Let's get out of here!

I have to apologise to my very good friend Leah. I promised it wouldn't take so long to post the next part to Alistair and Frankie's story and it's been months. But it's here now! Catch up with the start here, continued here and the last installment was here. And the story continues...

Photo by Holmes Palaciosview original here on Flikr 

Leonard twirled Frankie out to the side as the song was coming to an end and pulled her in just in time to dip her backwards on the last note. Frankie’s breathing became deeper as he looked into her eyes. She would have done anything to get away from those eyes; they may be similar to Alistair’s but they made her feel totally different, like he was an insect crawling into her soul. At this little display of Leonard’s there was a round of applause rippling through the room. When he finally righted her she became aware of the number of eyes in their direction and that none of the staff were clapping. Will especially looked like he might grind his teeth down to nothing.

Taking his offered arm Frankie let him escort her back to Alistair, who hadn’t moved an inch since she left his side. If looks could kill Leonard would be six foot under by now, but the way Alistair gripped his folded arms let her know that it wouldn’t be that simple.

“ We are going to have so much more fun my dear. But for now I think you two lovebirds have some things to discuss.” Leonard sniggered as he turned and bowed to the audience of waiting men.

“Time to go.” Alistair said through gritted teeth grabbing hold of Frankie’s hand and pulling her toward the arch. Frankie had no objections at all, except that they didn’t seem to be stopping for her jacket. She liked that jacket too.

But the world didn’t tilt as the shimmer kicked in and walking forward only spat them back out into the club. Twice more Alistair dragged Frankie through, gaining speed with each attempt.

“You know that’s not how it works Alistair.” Trixie’s voice came from the corner. “If he has decided you’re not leaving then the arch will no longer work for you. I’m sorry.”

“Alistair, who is he?” Frankie asked, “Alistair.” She said grabbing his face and forcing him to look at her. His eyes were frantic, unlike anything she had ever seen in him before. “Ok, take a breath for a minute. We obviously aren’t going anywhere fast so let’s just sit down...”

“No! We have to go, now. Trixie, please?” Alistair pleaded, “This has to stop. Let us out.”

“You know I don’t have that kind of power. And before you ask Miss Taylor, no there isn’t an alternative exit. One way in. One way out.” Trixie replied and then disappeared, her position no longer needed at the front of house with the doorway sealed.

“Come on” Frankie said pulling Alistair with her as he looked back at where Trixie had been moments  before. She took them straight to the bar and slid onto two bar stools as far from everyone else as possible.

An uneasy silence hung between them sat there at the gloomy end of the bar, punctuated by the clunk of the ice rolling around in Alistair’s glass as he swirled his whiskey. Frankie was the first to break the impasse. “Ok, are you going to tell me what I’ve gotten into here?”

Alistair rubbed his hands through his perfect hair and pulled them down his face, letting out a long sigh. “I’m sorry, Frankie. If only we had met before.”

“Before what?”

“Before I ever started coming here,” he gestured to the club suddenly looking exhausted.

“Exactly how long have you been coming to the club Alistair?” Frankie asked warily.

Alistair let out a long breath. “Around three centuries.”

Frankie threw back her shot of tequila that had been sitting on the bar since they sat down. She savoured the burn as it slid down her throat and the sticky bitter smell of the alcohol while she composed herself. Three centuries! “Well no offense but I wasn’t around back then, I don’t think meeting would really have been an option.”

Alistair looked up from his down-ward gaze to meet Frankie’s eyes. As he did Frankie burst out laughing, straight delivery of comedic lines wasn’t something she was ever good at. I didn’t take long for her laughter to infect him too.

“ So,” Frankie began, gasping through the remnants of the hysteria, “exactly what is it you bring girls here for?”

“You have to understand Frankie that this started a long time ago when I was very young and very stupid.” He started, “I was from a rich family; thought I was entitled to the world and more . Why do we always want more? Anyway, I’d been coming to this club. Back then I lived in London and that’s where I was introduced. Drunk one night, sat at the bridge table, I stupidly said in front of the wrong person ‘all I want from life is to have a young woman on my arm.’ The next thing I know I am speaking with Leonard and signing my life away.” Alistair stared over toward the gambling tables lost in the memory for a moment.

“The deal was I would always have exactly what I wished for; never again would I grow old and I would always find young beautiful women attracted to me.”

“I’m sensing a ‘but’ here.” Frankie encouraged when he seemed unwilling to go on.

Alistair sighed, “Yes the but; there’s a catch that I didn’t care about back then. Every five years Leonard gets a young lady for the club.” His head in his hands, “God Frankie I used to justify it that they would get to live forever. Seriously I was condemning them to this hell-hole and they get to stay here forever, what a peachy life huh? I just couldn’t see a way out.”

“Really? Not one single way?” Frankie asked raising her left eyebrow for effect.

 “Yes I tried that and a few other ways too.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

Alistair sat up and finally downed his whiskey; he’d give Will this one the guy knew his patron’s poisons. “I’ve been at this for three centuries Frankie. Once I finally grew up and realised what the Hell I’d gotten myself into, do you not think I tried every which way to break this or cheat it. It doesn’t work. He finds me every time, drags me back or revives me and then takes what is owed any way he can.”

“And I’m your five year payment?” Frankie said bluntly.

“Shit Frankie, I don’t want this. I love you. I wish you had never met me.” Alistair shouted throwing his empty glass at the wall.

Frankie smiled; watching him come apart was just a little bit satisfying. “Alistair,” Frankie said calmly composing herself, “tell me how it works.”

“What? How what works?”

“How Leonard gets me. How the club takes me. Tell me exactly how it happens.”

In hushed tones at the end of the bar Alistair told Frankie how the process starts when she puts the ring on but isn’t complete until vows are exchanged in a ceremony. He explained how the vows are the key, seemingly innocuous wedding vows but vows are a contract and a contract with Hell at that.

“So if I do this I’m what another waitress? I grow horns and a tail and wander round in my underwear?” Frankie spat the words at Alistair, the disgust now showing plainly on her face.

“If you are lucky.” Alistair replied, not bothering to hide the disgust from his voice.

The bar stool tumbled over when Frankie stood grabbing her purse to leave. Alistair grabbed her wrist.

“Please don’t. We’ll figure this out...I lo”

“Don’t.”  She cut him off before he could finish the word. “I will not be another Trixie in your world, watching you bring women into this club.”

Will appeared at the end of the bar, “Do you need anything down here? Is he bothering you Frankie?”

“No, I was just leaving.” Frankie yanked her arm free and for good measure slapped Alistair across the face with a satisfying crack.

Walking away from him and no longer having to pretend to like him felt good but this was far from over, she hadn’t gotten out of the place yet. And she still hadn’t found Mum. She was nearly to the end of the bar, though where exactly she thought she was going was a mystery. Leonard stepped into her path forcing her to stop just before colliding with him. Slowly having to adjust the angle of her head to look him in the eye, the smell of his colongne almost overpowering.

“Well my dear that chat didn’t seem to go at all as Alistair would have hoped, or I for that matter.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint.” Frankie replied belligerently.

“Come sit with me Frankie.” Leonard offered his arm, once again to take her away from Alistair and once again she could feel him seething behind her.

He guided Frankie across the club to his own private booth, set just away from the rest of the booths it offered the best view of the stage as well as the rest of the club. It was also more spacious with added velour throw cushions and a seat that you could sink into. There was no waiting for drinks a waitress was right behind them with glasses and a bottle of blood red wine.

“Tell me Frankie, what do you make of the entertainment here? What brings the young people into a club like this?” Leonard asked handing Frankie a rather large glass of Argentinean Malbec.

Frankie took a slow sip trying to work out how to answer this question, “To be honest I’m probably not the best person to ask. I think I live in the past sometimes.”

“Ahhhh, but life is ahead of you my dear. A very beautiful life”

Hope you are still enjoying this, the few of you that are still reading ;-) What has everyone been upto lately?

Meet the Boss

So a little while ago for daily writing prompts I started a story called The Hell Fire Club and the follow up here. Anyway I haven't written in a while so I thought I would get back into the swing of things and this is the story that has been toying with me. Here is the next installment. Let me know what you think.

*****

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"Miss Taylor. Alistair." Trixie the hostess nodded as she took Frankie's leather jacket from her. Alistair had been right, entering the club the first time had been the worst. She barely broke her stride now. She did, however, still need a few seconds to take in the club as the foyer opened out into all its opulence. Frankie really wasn't used to all this splendor; two up two downs with her mum growing up and dingy flats through uni were her thing. Getting used to Alistair's way of doing things was taking a little time.

Taking Alistair's offered arm she leaned in and whispered into his ear, "Is there a particular reason Trixie is so familiar with you? I mean with everyone else it seems to be Miss or Sir but you're on first name terms." She finished raising her eyebrow for effect.

"I've told you before I have been coming for a long time."

"Yeah, so have most of the old dudes in here. Come on, there is a lot you don't tell me Alistair and I can handle it, mostly. But at some point you are going to have to start giving something up! Why not start with something small?"

"Hmmm." Alistair had a pensive look on his face as they slid into their usual booth and was staring across the room at the guy Frankie assumed was the owner, he was always there surveying his empire.

"I mean if you two had a thing it's fine. You seem to be over it now. I assume the split was amicable? You are both being positively adult about it. "

"Something like that." Alistair replied, still distracted.

"Hey Mr." Frankie said waving her hand in front of his face. "Conversation over here. Plus we are supposed to be celebrating something, but someone wouldn't tell me what. I dressed up and everything." Frankie pouted and that finally brought Alistair back to the here and now.

"I'm sorry, I....I'm sorry." Alistair sighed with a last quick glance at the guy. "I did promise someone a celebration didn't I?" He said with a wicked twinkle in his eye.

He slid his hand in his jacket pocket and pulled out a small red velvet box. A ring box.

Frankie looked at Alistair, his impeccable hair dark hair brushed back with not a strand out of place as usual and his dark wicked eyes baring down into her soul through her eyes. In the last few months he had taken the half broken woman that she had become, plodding through life like it didn't matter, wasting it on stupid wishes that she could disappear into a world that didn't exist. And he had made her whole again. No more than whole, more than she could ever imagine. Frankie knew that her mouth was probably hanging open by now but she just kept looking from the box to Alistair and back again.

"Are you going to open it?" Alistair asked quietly and for the first time Frankie heard doubt and unease within him.

"I..." Frankie started, touching the box with just the tip of her fingers. Looking up at Alistair, "it's....we've only been together six months...I."

"Open it." He whispered.

Frankie gingerly lifted the small box from the table. The velvet was thick and expensive under her fingers. Taking a deep breath she pulled on the stiff spring and opened the box. She could barely string a sentence together before, now looking at the vintage gold ring sat in the shiny black silk there was no chance of coherent speech. Frankie looked up at Alistair patiently waiting for her reply and back to the beautiful ring; the emerald cut blood red stone, the diamonds set down the asymmetrical band and the filigreed claws holding the captivating stone in place. It was so beautiful, so old, too much.

"It's too much." Frankie whispered finally, her eyes shining bright with the potential for tears.

"It's the only ring I would choose. Don't over think this Frankie, are you happy?"

"More than any other time in my life." Frankie replied, distractedly fingering the ring. "I just don't know if I'm ready for this. It's a big commitment, I'm giving you me and you'll be giving me you...forever. Are we ready?"

Closing his hands around Frankie's and snapping the box to in the centre, taking a breath. "Just think about it, please. Think about what we have. I don't know about you but I don't want it to ever end."

All Frankie managed was a nod as she watched Alistair slip the little red box into her bag. With a sigh she knelt on the booth seat and turned toward the bar. Will, the bartender spotted her and she just mouthed 'Rough Day' then turned to sit down.

"What was that?" Alistair asked. But before Frankie could answer Will arrived at the table. Now he was out from behind the bar it was much more obvious how well toned he was by how well fitting his stripped waistcoat was and Frankie only noticed now the spatterdashes  that he wore over his boots. There were things all over this place that made you feel like you were stuck in some kind of time-warp.

"Two glasses?"

"I think so Will, thanks. And maybe the bottle?" Frankie replied. Alistair meanwhile was sat stunned.

"I took that as a given Frank! I brought the Don, you look like you need it tonight." Will winked, his reptilian eye flicking sideways, and after pouring two shots of Don Eduardo Silver Tequila set the bottle on the table.

"You know all my favourites." Frankie smiled.

"Ah, there she is. Few more of those and you'll be back giggling."

"Not sure that's the answer tonight Will, but thanks."

"Well give me a shout if you run out of lime." He said turning to leave without even acknowledging Alistair's existence. Usually the world revolved around the men in here and she was an added extra, but Will had been a friend these past few months. There to run to when things got a little too weird or when she needed a little time out from the lecherous old men that sometimes needed to speak with Alistair when she was there.

"So Frank, we're on the hard stuff tonight huh?" Alistair asked. Was that jealousy that flashed across his face? Nah, she was reading too much into that.

"Don't get me wrong champagne is lovely. But sometimes tequila is what a situation requires." Frankie smiled, "let's try and enjoy the rest of the night? I know it's not the celebration you were hoping for."

"Frankie, you never cease to amaze me. That is a cause to celebrate in its self." With that he nodded in the direction of the stage and it was only then that Frankie realised there hadn't been any performers on yet, which was unusual, just the band playing various background pieces. The lights dimmed and the heavy bass kicked in. Before even the first spark hit the stage she knew the fire poi dancers were back. They hadn't seen them since their first visit to the Hellfire Club but Frankie asked almost every time if they were on the bill.

"How?" 

"Anything for you."Alistair smiled handing her her glass and clinking them in an unspoken toast to them.

*

The fire held no captivation for Alistair that night. He just watched the glow of the flames dance on her skin, he watched the amazement in her eyes and he felt the beat pulse through their intertwined fingers. Slowly he came to the realisation this time he meant every word he said. That singular thought scared the hell out of him. In three centuries none of them had realised, none of them had guessed what the contract held and it made her all the more attractive. He wasn't going to be able to give her up and as that dawned on him he caught sight of Leonard watching him watch Frankie. How much had he seen? Was she safe? He hadn't gotten out of the first mess he got himself into and now he was walking head-long into another.

Alistair was no longer watching Frankie; his eyes were firmly on Leonard at the blackjack table. Their stares meeting across the club as the poi dancing rolled seamlessly onto Frankie’s favourite singer. The sultry tones of Madame Kitzsch melted out from the stage while the smell of sulphur still hung in the air from the fire, smoke clinging to the floor.

“Dance with me.” Alistair blurted out.

“But no one else is dancing.” Frankie replied.

“I don’t care. I need you close to me. Come on.” He said again standing and taking her hand, pulling her to her feet.

They moved on to the dance floor and Alistair pulled Frankie against him. She really did look exquisite tonight; wearing a floor length deep amethyst satin number, she shone like a gem amongst all the blood red of the club. Tonight he really felt her as they moved to the slow rhythm of the music, how their bodies fit together, how they moved in sync. They cut a path through the smoke clinging to the dance floor like birds through the clouds.

“What’s wrong Alistair? This isn’t just a delayed answer.” Frankie spoke into Alistair’s neck.

“Frankie, pretty soon I am going to have to tell you some things, but now is not that time. Right now someone is coming, whatever happens be careful. You know enough to be careful around him.”

Frankie pulled back to look at him and saw fear, quickly masked under the businessman mask she had seen many times before.

“Remember this above all. I love you, I really do” He whispered. And pulled her close to prolong what remained of the dance as he watched Leonard approach from the gambling tables.

“Well you two make a rather cute pair don’t you.” The voice made Frankie jump closer to Alistair, making the corner of his mouth twitch ever so slightly.

“Good evening Leonard.” Alistair bowed his head slightly, “Frankie this is Leonard he runs the Hellfire Club.”

“So this is the infamous Frankie?” Leonard turned to Frankie, “My dear I have been remiss in not seeking you out sooner. Or Alistair here has been downright rude keeping you all to himself.” Alistair caught the annoyance in his tone and wished that leaving the club would solve their problems. He hoped at this point it was still an option.

“Leonard, it’s a pleasure.” Frankie, confident as anything stepped up and held out her hand for the King of Hell to take.

A triumphant grin spread across Leonard’s face as he took Frankie’s hand to lay a kiss across the knuckles. All the time keeping eye contact with Alistair.

“Would you mind old chap if I cut in for this dance?” Leonard sleazed, keeping hold of Frankie’s hand.

Alistair tightened his grip around her waist, “its ok Alistair. I believe Leonard owes me a dance given the interruption.” He let his arm loosen and she slipped away from him straight onto the arm of the most dangerous person here. Yet she seemed in control of the situation, was that beautiful pixie haired woman going stop amazing him…ever?

*   *   *

Leonard was completely different to Alistair. Where Alistair was gentle Leonard was forceful and Frankie was pulled against him in a possessive vice like grip. Frankie could feel that he was well built compare to Alistair’s toned and athletic physique. They had the same dark eyes though, but somehow Alistair saw her and had a cheeky wickedness to him. Leonard’s eyes just seem to be wicked and searching for what they can have and own, they made Frankie’s skin crawl. But she had met men like Leonard before. He was no different than the scum that took her when she was sixteen, she was stronger now. Not physically…but there is more than one way to skin a cat.

The song had a staccato feel to it; Leonardo was using that and moving them around the floor. Frankie caught a glimpse of Will watching them looking almost like he was going to throw up and most of the club was watching them too, it was like the club and its occupants had collectively held its breath.

“So, is this your song then?” Frankie asked, making conversation as they moved.

“What makes you say that?” he asked

“The nod to Kitzsch as we moved away from Alistair.”

“Very perceptive. It’s one of many. I guess you could say it fits with my personality.” Leonard smiled.

“So we can safely say your halo need a polish like mine then?” Frankie smiled; maybe she could work with this,

“Oh no sweetness, it hangs off my horns.” His laugh echoed over the music.

Prodigal

So this was a prompt from a couple of days ago and I promise I did the writing...just in a very traditional pencil and paper kind of way. I am just now getting time to post here. Jump over to my lovely friends who were far more on the ball than me and see what they are up to.... Leah's is here and Sabrina posted here

view original here (look to the bottom left window!)

She stood at the window. She stood at the window every day since he left.

The threads that tied them were still strong. He still loved her and so he would return to her. Then they could rest.

Her body had withered long ago, her bones turned to dust. The houses around theirs had crumbled and gone, the residents forced out by her initial rage. She'd moved the landscape up around their house, it reflected her mood now...her need to be alone and wait.

She kept their house the same, untouched by the ravages of time. The same so that he would recognise it when he returned. Not that it mattered, all he need do was feel along the thread. He knew it was there, he'd plucked at it more than once tugging at the hope where her heart once beat.

So she stood at the window and she waited for him to return. She would wait forever and they would never rest.

Just a little song to go with this post ;-)

Out of the mirror

Today's ten minute daily. Check out what Leah has been up to today, so much more deep and meaningful that what I got from the image below!

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"Margaret. Margaret." Henry whispered patting his wife on the arm. "I think we are in the wrong place."

"And what makes you say that Henry." She replied smoothing down her blouse, still transfixed by the girl sat in the grass in front of them. Margaret found it fascinating how the girl had managed to tuck all of her body and arms behind the mirror that appeared to be showing the scene behind her. Just her head and legs were visible.

"Really darling I don't think this is the usual style for the Serpentine Gallery, do you?"

"Oh? How would you know darling? When was the last time you stepped away from the Tate and your beloved Turner?"

"I...."

"Just be quiet please and stop complaining. Be open to something other than your buttoned shirt and knotted tied, loosen up a little."

"Now you are starting to sound like Henrietta."

"Maybe you should listen to your daughter from time to time, it might do you some good."

"Was it her that suggested we come here?" Henry spat incredulously at his wife. He knew what he liked, why did he need this new fangled drivel forcing down his throat?

Before Margaret could respond their argument, that had been getting progressively louder, was interrupted by a white rabbit leaping out of the mirror the girl was holding. It hopped across the grass and right between the couple. Margaret looked up at her husband.

"Shall we get a taxi back dear?"

One eye open

"Seriously Shake what were you thinking? You can't just go gooey eyed or what ever that was at the Cap'n, not even if he were that last pirate on board."

"I know John but you've seen how he looks at me I can't ignore him forever."

"You can damn well try, hide in the crow's nest forever if you have to. It's a better than Elise getting her hands on ya scrawny neck!"

That evening Shake was just climbing down the rigging, she'd swapped shifts with Jim-Lad in the crow's nest  and pulled a double (although no-one quite knew why they still called him Jim-Lad given he was the oldest pirate on board at 60) when she turned straight into Tobias. Captain Tobias Black Heart, the sexiest captain on the seven seas. With his shirt half unbuttoned and his belt slung on his hip, cutlass and musket tucked in it always at the ready and his long hair pulled back with that leather tie. And those eyes, blue as the oceans they sailed.

"You've been avoiding me." He said pinning her against the mast.

"Um me, no. Just...um...up the nest...um sir." Shake kept trying to keep calm, avoid eye contact. Anything to avoid her wrath. Then she heard it the rhythmic thunk....thunk....thunk....thunk of Elise's heeled boots on the decking. Tobias had heard it too, his Captain's mask appeared, not the playful face he wore when trying to catch her but the one he wore around Elise. He straightened his posture to one of authority and backed away.

"My sweet Elise, don't you look positively ravishing tonight"

Elise stood there, hands on her smooth hips; wearing tight leggings that disappeared into her knee high boots and white over sized shirt stylishly spilling out of the tailored waistcoat, complete with pocket watch. Her hair a mass of sumptuous curls framed the perfect heart shaped face, red lips and signature eye patch. No one knew if the legends were true, if she only had one eye or if she simply wore the patch to constantly keep one eye acclimatised to the dark so that going into the bowels of the ship could be done so quicker and with ease. One thing was known...she slept with one eye open

Here stood the Captains gorgeous mistress, who arguably had more sway than on this ship than the Captain, she was the mad jealous type and Shake had just been caught with in spitting distance of her lover.

Shake was in trouble, maybe learning to sleep with one eye open wasn't such a bad idea.


Today's daily prompt hot from Leah and the writer's group:

Writing Prompt for September 8: Write about a girl named Shake.

I was also a little inspired by this song. Make of it what you will ;-)

I hope everyone else if having some fun writing, if not daily prompting.

Once more with a sense of feeling.

I love breaking rules. If I'm not bending the number of people to nominate on a blog challenge I'm writing for an extra few minutes of the daily prompts issued  by my writerly buddy Leah. Today I thought I'd just take the prompt and change it.

Out of the bag today we got:

Write a scene from the point of view of a rescue dog.

But no matter what I do this little brain of mine is coming up with this and nothing else, sorry Leah....At least the juices are flowing.


Sniff...Sweet, milky, cocoa...Chocolate!

Sniff...Metallic, urgh and that antiseptic smell like that horrid place where they give you shots...jewelry probably.

Sniff...Fresh, slightly floral...freshly washed clothes.

If I have to do this for much longer I'm going to have no sense of smell left. 

Sniff...oil. "Woof" That's right, this suitcase. Pretty sure I picked the right one again, for what the 500th time, Thor thought as he bounced in front of his handler indicating he had identified the case with the plastic c-4 inside.

"Good boy Thor." Grace praised, "Right again. One more field assessment and we'll be ready to join the Avengers." 

Thor laid down on the floor at the sound of the ridiculous name for the dog squad at airport security and put his paws over his eyes.

Grace giggled ruffling his ears, "I know, I know. And I'm not called Thor. Would it make it better if I changed my name to Loki?"

Thor jumped up and leaped at Grace, who being crouched down fell backwards with the force of his leap. He loved her smell, it was so subtle not over powering like some of the smells they tested them on here. Urgh the perfume was the worst. Her smell was small but colourful, it was soap and grass and treats and maple syrup all rolled into one. Except in the mornings when there was a little hint of mint too.

By the end of tomorrow they would be all that stood between the humans and the strange ones blowing them up in the sky....one more practice

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*   *   *

I have actually managed to get away a couple of times this summer with my beautiful family and the break gave me time to think. In particular about my writing. The thing people say to me a lot is that my writing is very visual. This is all well and good but I realised, with my toes curled into the cool and slightly damp grass that there are four other senses and why, especially when advised to as writers, am I not utilising them to my full potential. 

The way I figure is I need to start focusing on my other senses and make this come across in my writing. So while Leah is posting prompts I will try to focus on each of the senses in turn to work that muscle and see what happens. Today I tried smell but as it is my weakest sense in terms of writing I may try this one a second time. By all means join me on this challenge and see where your strengths and weaknesses are too.

The morning after the night before.

Today's writing prompt, from Leah via Caitlyn see here  on Pinterest. I'll try to stick to the ten minutes seeing as I have a date tonight!

*   *   *

Frankie was hot, sweat was trickling down her back as Alistair lead her from the dance floor. They had drunk some, watched the burlesque dancers that followed the singer. Frankie had been mesmerised by the poi flame throwers who entertained them after that. It was like they needed no fuel at all, like the flames came to their hands and mouths as if by mere thought, playing in to fantastical shapes to the rhythm of a deep bass. That bass line continued into the morning as they all danced and thrashed on the dance floor, giving themselves over to the beat.

Now he was taking her away from it, he was making her leave. She wasn't ready.

"You look cute when you pout you know" Alistair mocked.

"Hmph" Frankie replied as the hostess placed her shrug on her shoulders, she squirmed uncomfortably. It was too hot for that.

"Come on, you've had enough for one visit." Alistair said taking her hand and dragging her to the ornate arch that she hadn't noticed earlier. Rubies and garnets set into the crystal carved setting, Frankie had an inkling it was for more than just show.

The shimmering started as soon as they passed under the arch, world tilting movement and lingering alcohol in her system were not a good mix. Please don't let me throw up, please don't let me throw up, she thought.

Frankie knew the moment they were on the right side of the club's portal as soon as the cold morning air hit her. She sobered up in a split second and realised it was dawn, the first rays were starting to break through and dissipate the morning mist through the forest branches...

THE FOREST BRANCHES?!

"Alistair, where are we?" Silence, "Alistair?" She turned but he had his phone to his ear. Frankie caught a snippet of his conversation.

"...I don't know Jones it's never spit me out here but then I stayed longer than usual last night. Just triangulate our position and collect us as soon as you can...Yes contact me as soon as you know an ETA." He clicked his phone off and returned it to his pocket, turning to smile at Frankie.

For Deb....excuse the chatting half way through, worth it though!

The Hellfire Club

"Eeeecckkkk" the raven screeched across the dusk from the dead tree he was perched on. The landscape was desolate and Frankie was beginning to wonder if Alistair had her chasing some kind of urban myth. Thankfully there was a nicely worn path along the cliff face, she wouldn't want to be walking on the scree that spread out down the slope in these heels.

Alistair stopped, cupping her face in his hands. "Are you sure about this? You will never be the same again, there is no going back from this."

"You make it sound like I'm signing a contract with the devil." Frankie laughed.

"Try not to." Alistair smiled.

With that he took out a curved knife about six inches long from the small of his back. It had strange markings etched into the steel that Frankie had never seen before. Then in one quick slice he drew the knife over his palm. Returning the knife to its holder he took Frankie's hand before she had a chance to run and placed the bleeding hand on the rock face.

Everything around Frankie shimmered and she felt like the earth had given way underneath her feet. Just as she thought the contents of their early evening dinner would re-visit her she felt Alistair's cool hand on her arm and the world had stopped spinning.

"The first time is always the hardest, you'll get used to it" he whispered in her ear.

Frankie looked up and they were in a club like she had never seen before. Alistair was slipping her shrug off her shoulders but she barely noticed. The ambiance was dark and opulent,  it took her a moment to adjust from the light levels outside. The decor was a black...no wait deep reds, all different shades of red in fact some so deep they looked black and chandeliers hung every everywhere. Except, was that real flame in the wall sconces? Frankie took a moment to take it all in, trying to remind herself to pull her chin up and not gape!

"Welcome to The Hellfire Club, Fais ce que tu voudras." The hostess said to Frankie. "And welcome back Alistair, your usual table?" 

"Please Trixie."

It was only then that Frankie's brain caught up and as they started to walk away arm in arm she whispered, "What did she say?"

"Do what thou will. It's the club's motto, a place where anything goes" and his frivolous and wicked grin spread across his face, the one that won her over ever time.

As they walked deeper into the club the sultry voice of a 1920's singer drifted around, various gambling tables came into view off to the right and the bar to the left, stage dead center with numerous tables dotted around and some private booths. Alistair lead her to a booth letting Frankie slide in and get the view she wanted of the stage.

In just a moment a waitress was at the table with a bottle of champagne. Dressed in a black corset with red trim, ruffled panties, stockings and fishnet gloves. She had fantastic red ringlets, Frankie admired them for a more than a fleeting moment, no matter what she did with her fine hair curls would not hold. Then realisation dawned, the lighting was dim but Frankie was sure she had red skin. And were they scales, and horns, small ones but horns? A quick glance to Alistair and he wasn't reacting, maybe this was a costume for venue staff. Frankie popped her head above the booth seat and took a good look around, yep other waitresses were the same. Some green, some purple but similar, and the odd tail. But wait, a customer, there...a blue customer. Frankie studied the waitress a little more who luckily was talking to Alistair. This didn't look fake, no patchy face paint.

"First time honey?"

"Excuse me?" Frankie replied.

"First time at Hellfire?" The waitress asked again.

Frankie couldn't speak, her accent was even off. European but not, so she just nodded her reply.

"Touch the tail if you like, it's all real." She said flicking a pointed red tail round to reach out to Frankie's hand.

"Abbey, let her have a drink at least."  Alistair mockingly chastised the waitress.

"OK." she giggled, "offer's there if she lasts." She said with a wink. Frankie watched her tail flick as she chasséed to the next table.

Frankie downed her glass of champagne and a second. Nope that was not going to cut it. Calmly she got up and walked away from the booth, she could hear Alistair shout her name once but kept on walking. They had talked about the club of myth and legend where the wealthy go the 'let their hair down' where the devil walked among them, if you believed such things. When he said he could take her she never for one minute thought it existed and not like this. 

Reaching the bar she perched on a red velvet stool and didn't even wait for the bar tender to ask.

"Tequila, straight. Slice on the side"

"Rough day?" he asked dead pan. Stood there in his bowler hat, stripped waistcoat with reptilian eyes like it was the most normal thing in the world.

She knocked back the shot, slammed the glass upside down on the bar and after sucking the lemon a second said, "Again!"

Five shots later Frankie thanked the bar tender and walked back to the booth. She slid in next to Alistair.

"OK, so what's first?" she giggled wickedly.

*   *   *

So this was my response to a friend of mine trying to kick my writing behind into gear! Thanks Leah! Who's response to the writing prompt below can be found here. And my awesome blogging bestie has also taken up the challenge too and written something here. They are both super talented writers so you should definitely go check them out, if only to see how we all cam up with completely different things for the same prompt.

Ok, confession time mine was helped a little by this song which inspired me a little today off Imelda May's new album. I imagine her voice in the club and some of her other songs drifting around there from previous albums. So that combined with Leah's prompt has me writing again. Whether it's good or not I don't care words on the page was name of the game and I have achieved that, oh and I broke the 10 minute rule too....sorry not sorry!

So what is everyone up to? Have you missed me? Because I've missed you! Fill me in and I'll do you a deal, next post will bring you back up to date.

The Middle Princess

“Once upon a time in a far away land.....”

Who am I kidding? I’m sorry this story can’t begin in such a misleading way. This is no fairy tale; there is no way to dress this tale up or skim over the brutality of this story. I am afraid we must just jump in with both feet.

Kennis was a beautiful baby; a Princess by birth and the middle of twelve daughters to a harsh King. Yep, ‘The’ twelve Princesses; you know the story, dance all night and worn out shoes. I digress, when the Princesses came of age it became apparent that Kennis was unique. Her Father worried that he would not be able to marry her off and so jumped at the first marriage proposal thrown in her direction. The proposal came from a not so desirable Knight, with a reputation for treating his women (and there were many) badly. But the King was harsh, the Knights prowess on the battlefield was legendary and his daughter was dutiful.

Fast forward five years...

“Wench.”

“Wench.”

“Where the hell are you? Get out here; it’s about time you gave me with a son.”

She could hear him crashing through the rooms of her prison, getting closer.

Kennis suffered this every night when Kellen was not away defending the kingdom, she suffered his brutal force with grace. Never once allowing him to see the true affect he was having on her; destroying her soul, taking it piece by piece. 

When Kellen had had his fill of her and the ale had finally lulled him into a deep slumber Kennis slipped out of the bed chamber and into the cool moonlight. There she screamed into the night, she let her tears carry away her pain. She called out the name that had dominated her dreams for as long as she could remember; the name of her Prince that would come and save her someday, the Prince who wore out her shoes.

Exhausted, her face wet from tears, Kennis collapsed into the still warm grass. The thought of ending this torture once and for all was dancing around her mind; when a sudden draft beat across her bare skin. Then again; a cool respite from the summer heat. Kennis looked up wanting to cool her face. At first she couldn’t make out the figure before her though her tears, it was huge and were those wings?

“Devyn?”

There's a New Lover in Town

WANTED: AMBASSADOR FOR LOVE

Applicants must believe in love in all its guises and be its advocate to people from all walks of life. The ideal candidate will have a great eye for body language and experience of archery, although desirable it is not essential as all necessary training will be provided. Flexibility and commitment are essential in this role. Excellent retirement package available.

To apply wish on your nearest star.

view original here

Alan had been doing this job too long, it was time for some new blood. His aim was wonky, and he had got to the point where he didn’t care if the arrow missed. The powers hadn’t been happy for a while, he hadn’t been hitting his targets in terms of happily married couples and to top it all off the divorce rates were going through the roof. The inference was that society was spiraling out of control and it was all because his bad eye was throwing his aim off. Or was it?

The sun was setting over the ocean; the pinks and salmons of the sky were dancing on the waves. Couples were walking hand in hand yet no arrows were being shot, no love was being fostered as the moonlight crept closer. Why? Because of one distraction; there on the deck of her beach house, where she sat every night, mug in one hand book in the other, until the moonlight wasn’t sufficient to light the words.

He could sit and watch her for hours; the way the dying light would shine off her red hair and make her skin seem almost luminescent in its paleness. Sometimes he would catch a smile tickle at the corners of her full lips or a stray tear escape from the corner of her green eyes. Though green didn’t quite cover the complexity of the jewels that glistened and shone, like diamonds set in a beautiful piece of jewellery; the hazel flecks adding complexity and wonder that could captivate even the most closed of hearts.

The advert went out today and there had already been a couple of interested parties. Interviews were tomorrow and training would be complete by weekend, then his life would begin, with her.

“So where do I apply then?” came a voice from behind.

“I’m sure the ad said on a star” grumbled Alan.

“Yeah, from a modern age gramps don’t really trust the stars to get my message there on time.”

“Really? So what makes you think you are the best for this job with such a disregard for the ancient traditions?”

“I never said I don’t dig the old stuff. I just won’t leave things to chance.”

“Well I’ll take that into consideration blondie. But for now toddle off and leave me be. I’ll be in touch if I think you can handle the role.”

“Oh I can handle the role.”

At this Alan broke away from his vigil, “GO AWAY. Can I make myself any clearer? I am busy and I will contact you tomorrow!”

So that was my take on Cupid. If you took up the challenge from last week feel free to post your link in the comments. I'd love to see your take on a myth of your choice.

Is she worth it?

I thought I would share a little about how I sit down to write. Not because I think there is anything useful I can share but so I can be nosy and ask about your process!

Sometimes ideas come to me, usually in the middle of the night, they wake me from my slumber and I have to get up and write it down. These flashes of inspiration  are few and far between, rarities my muse dispenses when she so wishes.

In reality something tends to catch my eye or ear and my mind ponders it for a while. It can be a picture, a quote or even a song and it will capture something in my imagination.

Recently I saw this image and knew it would be one of those images to get the cogs in my mind moving. So a grovel later and the photographer Liam Dagan sent me the image to use. I am grateful that I can borrow the images of super talented people like Liam from time to time just so that I can show you where my mind starts!

Any way here is Liam's image and the snippet that it put in my mind.

To Hell and Back

"Let me get this straight, I'm dead and this is hell?"

"Ahha"

"And i could climb out up that?"

"Yup"

"Anyone ever make it?"

"One"

"Who?"

"One of the original fallen. He fell for a human girl on the living plane, forbidden eve for a fallen so he was condemned to eternity in here. Always looking out with that smallest glimmer of hope to torture him."

"He climbed out to be with her?"

"Yeah, it even worked out for a little bit. Right up until Death caught up with her and they were both consigned to Hell for eternity. Apparently if you ask them they don't care where they are, as long as they are together. Personally I could do without the eternal damnation, but who am I to argue."

"Why don't you climb then?"

"I've nothing worth risking everything for."

"But we are already dead! What could be worse than being dead and stuck in Hell for eternity!"

"Nothing."

"That's my point."

"No, seriously, nothing!! Fall on there, and its not an easy climb, and you'd kill yourself all over again. Only this time you have no body to die, just your soul. You would simply cease to exist at all. Granted some do it just to get away from the torture of being down here, but not many things are worth that!"

"There are a few"

"So, who's yours?"


So what gets your creative juices flowing? Do you get the same impulse to tell a pictures story that I do?