The Plot Is Hatched

Laura set paper plates in front of each carefully scrubbed little boy, almost daring them to turn their noses up at her offerings. Not being a mother or an aunty, she didn't have the kinds of food kids usually liked.

“What is it?” dark haired Loki asked, nudging the half sandwich with his finger. Blonde Thor picked up a peanut butter celery stick and sniffed at it suspiciously.

“Ants on a log and BLTs,” Laura replied, watching the boys poke at what might very well be their first brush with fresh veggies. She’d once met a little girl in foster care that had no idea what an apple was or how to eat one. These boys had the same air of casual neglect that child’d had.

Thor looked up at her, beaming. “The raisins are supposed to be ants?” He grabbed a stick and bit into it gleefully. Thor had been very annoyed when she wouldn't let him eat the spider he’d killed with his taser. Apparently her offering of “ants” in exchange of barbecued arachnids had been accepted. “Yum! I like your style, nice lady! This is lots better than real bugs!”

Loki eyed his brother dryly, then picked up the sandwich he’d been poking at. He took a cautious sniff, said, “Bacon?” He took a small bite. Laura found herself holding her breath. “Mm, bacon salad sandwich! I don't like it when mother makes salad sandwiches with tuna, but it's pretty good the way you make it!”

“That’s cuz mother don't use real salad,” Thor said around a mouthful of peanut butter. “She just uses mayo and yucky onions. Who knew real salad and fake bugs were better than fake salad and real bugs?!”

Most people, Laura reflected, not sure if she should be so amused by that statement. Fake bugs, indeed!

Chuckling to herself, she dug out her phone book. The joy of a small town was that she knew most of the older adults, so finding the correct “Mrs. Cunningham” wasn't a challenge.

“Good afternoon, Sue. This is Laura Sanchez.”

“Oh, hi, Laura!” Mrs. Cunningham replied warmly but confused sounding. “How is retirement suiting you?”

Laura cringed. Retirement didn't suit her at all and the other woman knew it. She’d been forced into it by age and budget cuts. And perhaps a bit for her reputation for being somewhat disagreeable when people didn't follow her recommendations when it came to child welfare. She’d clashed a time or two with the long time educator over the years.

“The reason I'm calling is because I have two little boys sitting at my kitchen table. They showed up on my front porch, asking to use the phone to call their dad because they were hungers. Apparently, their mother left them unattended while she went to work…”

A weary sigh cut her off. “Coby and Brett. I doubt they were actually left alone. Their mother, Charity, probably left them with her boyfriend. She’s one of those women who thinks her obligation to her kids ended when she gave birth.”

“Do they sneak away a lot, then?”

“They didn't when Charity’s boyfriend was also their father. Unfortunately, she kicked him out about six months ago and wouldn't let him take the boys with him.”

“Wouldn't let him have custody, huh?” Laura eyed the boys slyly. They were eating very industriously. A little too industriously. They had clearly been listening in. “I may not be a social worker anymore but I still know a few tricks. By the time I'm done with her, she’ll be begging him to take his kids in.”

Two sets of startled eyes focused on her. Thor looked like he wanted to smile but was afraid to. Loki looked… thoughtful.

“Do you really think you can get mother to let us live with Dad?”

“Oh, yes, sweetie. I most certainly can,” she said seriously.

“Count me in,” Mrs. Cunningham said over the phone. “Those boys deserve to have a loving home.”

Book Shout Out...

Yep, it's Friday again and here I sit, without a post.  I've been trying to coax my characters out all week with no such luck.  Apparently, they're all happily ensconced in their daily lives or lovers arms and don't want to play with me right now.

I appealed to Mz. Muse for help, but she's working overtime in my school life as, you guessed it, school is back up and going for the fall.  This semester I have a Mystery and Detective fiction class and a Magazine Workshop class for my Creative Writing degree and a couple of art classes, one being Drawing, for my Art degree. Needless to say she's working at full capacity right now.

I didn't want to leave you hanging, so I decided to do a quick shout out for a series I just happened upon and am LOVING!  Enter Nancy Haviland's - Wanted Men series.  Russian, Italian, Romanian mobsters and the women they fall for, you can't go wrong with these books.  They are well-written and sexy as hell!

That's all from me this week.  I'll keep trying to get those posts out there...hopefully, my characters will have something to say next week.  In the mean time, have a great week and lots of hot reads!
~~~

Serena

Hangin' in There

Yes, I'm still here. I promise I'll get back to the serial story. Just not this week or last week. In fact, I swear by Thor, god of thunder (or goddess, according to the current comics) I will post something next week, either another chapter or something else. I wanted to get the long-range story done before the year's over. However, the best-laid plans ... well, you know.

Anyway, I stopped in to plug Horsepower, which went on sale today. You can check it out at these fine venues: the Evernight publishing site, All-Romance ebooks, or Amazon. If all goes according to plan, my next release may be a contemporary--no paranormal elements at all--but still M/M. I hope I remember how to write M/F when I get to that part of the serial story. Maybe that's what the holdup is.

And now, for your enjoyment, here's a mystery photo. Who are these people? Would you want them moving next door to you? The answer is posted in the comments.

Life Before Loki and Thor Lived in Talbot's Peak

Laura was standing on the toilet lid when she heard the doorbell ring. Rolling her eyes at whatever Fate decided THIS was a good time to send visitors, she checked the location of her nemesis, then carefully stepped down. It didn't react, so she chanced a slow motion side shuffle toward the stairs. She lost her nerve halfway and ran/jumped/screeched the rest of the way before slamming the door shut. Shuddering, she headed to the front of the house to see who’d interrupted her showdown in the guest bath.

No one was visible through the peak hole. She backed away from the door, muttering about inconsiderate teenagers ringing doorbells before running away. Old ladies have better things to do than answer doors with no one there! She could have been doing something about that interloper in the bath tub!

“We didn't run away.”

She jumped. Where had that voice come from?

“Is it a mouse?” a second voice asked.

Unnerved, she edged away from the wall. Those muffled voices sounded like they were coming from there. “Is what a mouse?” she replied.

“The enter-loopy in your tub. Is it a mouse?”

“Um…”

“It’s not a mouse,” the first voice cut in. “Little girls scream at mice and she’s a grown-up like Mrs. Cunningham. It’s pro’ly a cockroach.”

“Is it a cockroach?”

Warned by the kid speech, Laura looked lower and found two pairs of blue eyes peering at her through the mail slot. She stood there, blinking at them, for a long startled second before marching back to the door. She flung it open to find two small, very dirty boys hunched down in front of the mail slot. The larger one had shaggy blonde hair and was smiling hopefully. “It is a mouse, ain't it.” The smaller boy with dark brown hair that looked like he cut it himself elbowed him.

The sight of two strange children alone on her front was enough to spire her out of shock. “Where are your parents?”

“Mother is at work,” the smaller boy said sullenly.

“Our Dad’s in Montana. He’s from there originally and after Mother kicked him out so she could hook up with a different guy, he had to go back to his real family.” About half way through, the smaller boy started elbowing the blonde speed talker, but it made no impact.

“So anyway, Dad said we could call him anytime we need anything. And we’re hungry. Can we use your phone to call our dad?”

“Why not call your mom, since she’s closer?” Laura asked carefully. Before retiring, she’d spent forty-three years as a social worker. She could tell that all was not right in the home these boys lived in just by looking at them.

“We don't have a mom,” the dark haired boy said. “We have a mother.”

“Anyone can be a mother but moms care about their kids,” the blonde agreed cheerfully, unaware that he was breaking her heart with his casual acceptance of his situation. The dark boy did notice, though.

“It's ok, lady,” he said, trying to sound as chipper as his brother and failing. “We got a great dad. He loves us.”

“If you let us use your phone to call our dad, we’ll get rid of that fruity loop,” the blonde said.

Confused, Laura shook her head. “Fruity loop?”

“That thing you were trying to take care of when we rangged the doorbell. Mrs. Cunningham said we are good at catching bugs and mice and things. We’ll kill it for you if you let us use your phone.”

“Mrs. Cunningham is who is supposed to be watching you?” she asked.

“She’s our teacher,” the dark haired boy said. “She kind of watches us when we’re at school. But there’s no school today.”

“Yep! Teacher serving day today!” the blond chimed in.

Finally, Laura understood something of what was going on. “You two are twins and are in Mrs. Cunningham’s first grade class at Terrace Elementary and you aren't in school because it's an in-service day!”

“Yep. I'm Thor and this is my brother, Loki. But Mrs. Cunningham always says we should use our realm names. I figure Mother didn't ask me if I want to be called Coby or if Loki wanted to be called Brett, so that means we can call ourselves whatever we want. So I'm Thor and he is Loki.”

“Well, ok, Loki and Thor--”

“Thor and Loki,” the boy corrected. This earned him another elbow in the ribs from his brother, which was again ignored.

“How about you guys come in side. It's a little too cool to be outside without a jacket, even if we are in California. I'll fix you some lunch then call Mrs. Cunningham.”

The boys both looked horrified, the first time they had the same expression since this bizarre conversation began. “We can't take food for nothing,” Loki intoned quietly.

“That would be pity,” Thor agreed. “We’ll go kill that thing in your tub in trade!” To her horror, he pulled a black taser out of his back pocket, then dashed past her, brandishing it like he was facing a horde of Mongol invaders.

The dark haired boy, Loki, sighed heavily. “We better follow him before he hurts himself.”

Before she could get to the bathroom door, there was a scream of terror, a loud zapping notice, a flash of light, all at once. With visions of dead children running through her head, she peered around the corner, just in time to hear the blonde crow in triumph, “Take that, you evil doer! Never mess with a thunder god! We gots the power to summon lightning!”

Beside her, the dark haired boy sighed again. “Yes, Thor, we see you killed the spider.”

APPEARING AT A LOCAL EVENT

http://wrwdc.com/2016-readers-and-bloggers-luncheon/

In the DC area over Columbus Day weekend and a booklover? Register for this local event.  I'm attending as a featured author.  Local romance writers of all genre are attending.  Cone on over and sign up!  We'd love to have you!


Smiles,
Solara 

Overheard around Talbot's Peak

Wolves over a steak and Olympics at Reetha’s Bar:

First wolf: “A hundred meters, I could do that under ten seconds.”

Second wolf: “I could do it under eight seconds.”

First wolf: “I can do it under five seconds.”

Reetha: “Boys, let's go outside and name that tune.”

Both wolves: “Wha?”

Reetha: “Take it outside and show us whose is bigger.”

First wolf: “Aah?”

Reetha: “Ready.Set.Go guys.”

And they were off….

The newsroom at the Gazette:

Ziva: “Dig, block…. Yes!  Beach Volleyball, greatest Olympic sport ever!”

Nick: “Talbot’s Peak should think about holding an Olympics.”

Mistress P: “Yeah, the sex Olympics.”

Ziva: “Hmmm, nice idea.”

Mistress P: “Yep, think of all BDSM events there could be.”

Nick: “Bronze, Silver and Gold in sex.  Think of all the world records that could be created and broken.”

Ralph: ~snort~ “Please,”

Mistress P: “Not to worry Ralph, we’ll hold them in the summer so you won’t sleep through them.”

Ralph: “Please, we all know the games would be dominated by the bunnies.”

The rest of the gang looked on, smirks on their faces…

Ralph: “Pun intended.”

~~

Have a great weekend!

Serena

Checking In

Hi! Just checking in. I've officially put Jarod Black's story back in my "to be worked on another time" file. I have been working on re-writing "Witch's Moon" instead. That story is now partially set in the fictional Napervile, which Mooney had made fun of in his sports column at the very beginning because they had "food" for a school mascot. It should be ready for release around Thanksgiving.

I actually had actually written a bit of flash fiction around a funny meme I saw online but Blogger is not letting me upload the picture, which is a nessasery part of the scene. I decided to save it for next week. Instead, here's a cool story about a blind dog that saved the life of a drowning girl. Enjoy!

~Rebecca

https://youtu.be/zi1fgOB4u6o

Had to Share

Just got my cover art for J. J.'s upcoming release from Evernight Publishing, Horsepower, and just had to brag. I flippin' love this cover. That scene at the bottom, with the horse and the cycle, is right out of the book.

I just sent in the last round of edits. I don't have a release date yet, but when I do you'll hear about it. In the meantime, here are some excerpts I posted:

It's Filler Time

Break Week - Scene from Horsepower

All-American

Eight Hands Needed...

“Okay, that’s it, I’m placing an ad!” Ziva grumbled, her hand rubbing the back of her neck as she approached Penny’s desk.

“All-righty then.”

“I mean it, Penny, it’s going on there today and I’m sending it out to all the big newspapers.  I will find one and bring him or her to town.”

Ziva looked at the “sure you will” face on her friend and growled.  Sure she’d gone off on this tangent before, only to be shot down by Nick each time, but “enough is enough,” she barked out her last thought.

“What was that,” Penny asked.

“I said, enough was enough and that I’m doing this,” Ziva’s groan negated the resolve of her statement when she found a particularly tender spot between her neck and shoulder.

“Good for you, Z.” Penny’s smile was sincere, but her body language suggested doubts.

“You don’t believe me?”

“I do, Z, it’s just that this same scenario has come up many times and each were shot down by one person or another.  Most of the time it was Nick.” Penny stopped typing and looked her way.  “However, if there is anything I can do to help, I’m your woman.”

“Actually, there is something you can do.  First, don’t let the big man know we’re doing this and second, do we want a masseuse or and masseur?”

“Why not both?” Penny purred.

“I like it.” Ziva grinned.  “Now, what species gives the best massage?”

“A bear has a nice grip…” Penny mused.

“Ooh, that’s true. Though a small monkey could grip and walk on your back…”

“No, I’ve got it…an octopus!”

Ziva laughed.  “You know I don’t think they have the same number of arms in their human skin.”

“Ah, but if they could imagine all the places they could reach at the same time.”

Ziva and Penny quietly pondered the possibilities until Ziva spoke.  “Yep, an octopus, top of the list for sure.”

“What about an octopus?” Nick asked, stepping out of his office.

Ziva and Penny laughed.  “Nothing,” they said at the same time.

Ziva hummed as she made her way back to her office, already planning the classified ad she was going to write. An ad no shifter could miss…

Masseuse and Measurer needed
Eight hands eagerly sought
Talbot’s Peak Business currently shifting hands
Email resume to Ziva at alphaZ@b&g,com  

~~~  

 

 Have a wonderful weekend!  And may it include a deliciously deep massage!

Serena

World's Worst

(Taking a break from the drama for a little bit of silliness ...)

Chantal was on hostess duty at Haven, and the joint was jumpin’. In fact, tables were at a premium tonight. Word of Rupert’s inventive desserts had gotten around. Just the thing to aid in post-scene cooldowns.

At the moment they only had one couple in the lobby, waiting for the next available table. Chantal hadn’t been paying much attention to them, until she heard …

“Oh, Lars. Lars.”

“Deanna! Deanna!”

“I’ll love you until the universe falls into the sun.”

“I’ll love you until God crumples up creation and tosses it into the cosmic waste basket.”

“Let me lash my tongue all over your rippling biceps.”

“I want to bury my nose in your muff.”

“Then nuzzle me, you magnificent beast!”

“Fondle my thighs, you wanton temptress!”

“Suckle my nipples, you towering titan!”

“Polish my lance, you voluptuous vixen!”

“Drink from my cup, lusty stallion!”

“Sip from my straw, perky penguin!”

“Jump me, you kinky kangaroo!”

“Roll with me, you amorous Amazonian alligator!”

“Hey, that’s two adjectives. No fair.”

By now an intrigued and slightly nervous Chantal had left the desk to investigate. She found the “passionate lovers” demurely seated on the couch in the lobby, fully clothed and giggling up a storm. “Are you two okay?” she asked carefully.

“Oh yeah,” the woman managed to get out. She pounded her man on the back; he’d started to hiccup. “Is our table ready?”

“Not yet.” Chantal dashed back to the desk and poured a glass of water. She offered this to the gasping man. He gulped it down gratefully, gave one final hiccup, and smiled. “You mind me asking … ?” Chantal said.

“No, it’s fine,” the woman said. “We were getting bored waiting for a table, so we decided to play ‘World’s Worst.’ You know, that game from Whose Line is it Anyway? So we went for the world’s worst seduction scene.”

“Dialogue only, of course,” the man added. “We know the rules. No getting it on in the lobby.” He grinned down at his partner and winked. “Y’know, I don’t think we even need the club tonight. Why don’t we just go back to my place? We can grab takeout on the way.”

“You still have the pool table?”

He twirled an imaginary moustache. “But of course.”

She took his hand. “Then lead on, my feisty ferret.”

He stood, and guided her to her feet. “As you command, my precocious panda.” Hand in hand, they scurried out the door.

“Table for two,” one of the waiters called from inside the club proper.

“Never mind,” Chantal said. The waiter shrugged and withdrew.

She trudged back to the desk. Great. Not only had they lost a couple of customers, now she was horny. She sat with her thighs pressed tightly together. It was going to be a long evening.