Psst, over here. Yeah, it’s me. The muse. Don’t tell my author, but I’ve got the itch to give you a sneak peek into her Tales of WOE world. The author is out of the office today playing chaperone to the kid’s class for an action packed day and a field trip to the museums downtown. But don’t tell her I showed y’all this, because she’ll cut me off from the ipod and the Tom Jones playlist I bullied her into creating for me. Hey, don’t snicker. Sir Tom has it going on. ;o)
So grab your gear and let’s tip toe past the guards protecting her precious world and… Welcome to Vegas!
(WTF? Vegas? Really? Okay, I’m cool with it. Viva Las Vegas! Where’s Tom? Oh wait, the tour guide has shown up. Cool, he’s sorta cute–in a I wanna pat him on the head and mess with his hair sort of way. At about 5’2″ with swirling silver-blue eyes that are rimmed with violet and a mop of sandy brown curls that are… peppered with silver. Wearing a tweed suit? In Vegas? During the warm months? Wow, he’s either crazy or more man than even I could ever handle. Okay, I’ll shut up now. Zzzip.)
“Good evening, my lords and ladies, and welcome to the humble abode of our greatest champion, Saint—“
(Ohmiword, where is that deep voice with a hint of Latin lover extraordinaire coming from? *see EK’s jaw drop when a fine looking specimen of a male steps around the corner wearing a towel and a scowl.*Tall, lean, and built to please with shoulder length, wavy, black hair that screams run your fingers through me. Oh dear, I need a bib. He’s got shoulders that beg to be bitten. And abs that make me wanna do laundry in the best possible way. *heartfelt sigh* I love my job.)
If looks could kill, then our tour guide, Auggie, would be bacon. Crispy bacon at that.
“What are these people doing in my chambers?”
“My lord, these are the visitors that I mentioned last night when you–“
Our delectable hero marches up to Auggie and–after scanning the group of visitors–pins Auggie with a fierce look. “Get them out of here. Especially that one.” He points to EK. “She is nymph.”
Auggie gasps and looks at EK. “My lord, I… didn’t… yes. Right away. They will leave. Now.” Auggie makes a shooing motion and the tour group is herded towards the door. He grabs a reluctant EK by the arm and drags her with him. “We exchanged over a thousand emails and you never mentioned you were a nymph.”
EK smirks. “What can I say? It slipped my mind.”
Auggie harrumphs, then addresses the rest of the group. “Please accept my sincerest apologies, but we shall have to cut your tour short. All parking is validated. Your travel fees will be refunded.” He reaches the door, which is open and letting in the hot arid air from the strip. He shoves EK out the door. “Thank you for coming.” Then slams the door shut in EK’s face.
EK chuckles. “That was fun.” She points at a sign on the door and the chuckle morphs into a cackle.
Absolutely, under no circumstances, under penalty of death and severe retribution, with copious amounts of pain, suffering, and eternal torment…
“Ohmiword, this is classic. This is so–“
“So what?” That deep, masculine voice that has haunted my waking moments every since I first snuck into my author’s dreams to get a glimpse of the wicked machinations in her twisted mind that feature the scrumptious image of her current hero, Saint…*gulp*
He’s right behind me, isn’t he? Oh. Shit.
And not in the good way, either.
I suggest we run.
I’ll go this way and you go that way.
And whatever you do… do NOT let Saint know that you know that his true mate is of the one race he despises above all others. And especially don’t let it slip that she’s a princess of the nymphs and the beloved baby sister of the Nymph King.
Meet me later. At the Nymph King’s Palace. They’re having a party.
Okay, on the count of three split and run.