Friday, February 20, 2015

Flash Fiction Friday: Sneak peek

Come on in, have a seat and listen as Miss Torie James gives us a sneak peek at her newest work in her New Camelot Series...

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Mordred Lothian, the male protagonist in my 3rd New Camelot book is the biggest pain in my tush. He wasn't supposed to live past the first book but for some reason, the ladies like him. I don't. *sighs* Fine…I do. He's still a douche though…

Timeless Surrender, Book Three of New Camelot ( please, please, please keep in mind this is still being revised. *dies*)


“Stop being a baby. Let me help you.” Jennie chided, rounding the bathroom doorway and standing stock still as Dred pulled off his bloodied, tattered shirt before tossing it aside. It wasn’t the fact he had a sizable chunk of flesh missing from the seeping bite wound centered on his left hip. It wasn’t the fact that she’d fantasized a thousand times in the last few days about what he looked like under his clothes. She knew he’d be magnificent and she was right. Honed, deadly muscles that flexed and coiled as she drew nearer distracted her for a moment.

But only for a moment. Because the thing that brought actual tears to her eyes were all the old scars and puckered wounds decorating his back; thick and rigid, the skin drawn up in patchwork manner and covering his entire torso as well. She met his ocean blue eyes in the mirror’s reflection, her long fingers reaching out to lightly trace a curving scar along his tailbone, its length unknown as it dipped below the waistband of his jeans.

“Go away, Jenalyn. I don’t need your help. It’s not my first rodeo.” His voice, rugged and sensual made her ache in places she never had felt before. Everything about Mordred either fascinated or annoyed her and she couldn’t say it was necessarily a bad thing. He was arrogant, chauvinistic, demanding and bossy. He underestimated her, provoked her and habitually patronized her.

She liked it, twisted, fucked up ball of yarn that she was.

He hadn’t run off like the other men in her life, no matter how she tried to verbally eviscerate him. He called her on her shit, he stood his ground and took his alpha male stance without wavering.

Again, she touched his back, finding a long, thin jagged scar that went from his nape down to the middle of his back. Ignoring his dismissal, she met his gaze In the glass again.

“Where did you get these? Who did this to you?”

He tensed, she felt his muscles jump but didn’t stop tracing the wound.

“Does it matter, kid? It was another lifetime. Another man.” Shadows danced over his hard, handsome face before he turned to face her, wrapping his hands around her upper forearms as he tried to move her back, out of his way.

Dear Gods, she wanted to give his chest a repeated tongue bath. Despite the grievous wounds blanketing the marbled flesh, it was mouthwatering. The heat from his touch raced through her and she had to bite her own tongue to keep from moaning when the sight of one scar in particular caught her attention. Right over his heart, it looked like someone had tried to cut him open once. It was vicious and angry looking despite the passage of time.

Raising her fingers again she touched it, traced it gently, tenderly. “This one? What happened?”

He dipped his head low, warm breath washing over her ear as his grip on her tightened. “Jennie. Go. Away.” Despite the words, he made no move to release her, she heard his harsh breathing kick up a notch, saw his fangs punch down, peeking from under those lips she knew tasted like almonds.

“Tell me what happened and I’ll bail.” Fuck. She sounded all breathy.

His lips brushed her temple, dipping lower along her right cheek. “I got it because I don’t listen very well at times. I had a rather harsh teacher when I was younger. I admitted a weakness and so an attempt to purge it was called for. Warriors can’t have weaknesses. Let alone the son of Morgan Le Faye.”

Jennie eyes fluttered shut when his warm mouth brushed the outside of hers, hovering.

“W-what was the weakness?” She felt her lower belly constrict, moisture flooding her thighs at just this slight contact with him.

“I confessed my love for someone. So they tried to remove my heart.”

“That’s ah..fucked up.” Jennie trembled when she felt one of Dred’s hands drop and settle on her waist, the fire of his touch burning through the material of her top. “Didn’t work did it?”

“The procedure? No. The lesson? Yeah. It worked.” His mouth brushed hers. “I was only ten years old.”

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2 comments:

  1. That is an intense piece! And wow, what a lesson. Yikes!

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  2. Thank you Christine! This book has taken me on a rollercoaster of emotion but I wouldn't have it any other way! And Decadent...again...thank you for having me on today!

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