It's Fiction Friday! Woot! You know what that means. . . Story Improv time! But first another quick mention about the COTT bookclub. A Tailor Made Bride is turning out to be one of my favorite reads of the year! There's still time to join in, even if you feel you are behind (I am). Get the book anyway! You won't be sorry! Then head over to the Book Club page and add your thoughts to any of the questions that strike a chord with you. No pressure to address everything, just what you want to express about the book as you move through it.
>>Today is the last day to enter to win the $10 Amazon gift card in honor of my one-year blogiversary! Leave a comment to be entered. What better day to come out of hiding (hehe) than on Story Improv day? <<
Let the game commence:
Darren watched Lydia's delicate mouth curve upward when his hands encircled her tiny waist. They swayed on the dance floor, not caring that neither of them had any rhythm. The rhythm of their hearts beating together was all they needed.
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Lydia closed her eyes. Finally, she was safe. When she opened them, her heart bucked into her throat. What was he doing here? Not now.
He knew her and all of her secrets. She tucked her chin into Darren's chest wishing she could telepathically explain their danger. The moment Ross recognized her, all of their work on this would be wasted.
At that moment Darren decided to try to twirl Lydia with his right hand, but his foot got in her way!
"Oh no!" Darren grabbed for Lydia but it was too late! She went sprawling across the floor, landing square on her former boyfriend's alligator cowboy boots!
Lydia has several options, cave in to fear, run away awash in embarrassment or do what she did. She hauled off and slapped Ross with all the force of a prize fighter. "You have no idea how long I've waited to do that." She made an about face, holding her head up and walked back to Darren.
The angry staccato of boots trailed her. Refusing to look back, she squared her shoulders, even as the cold sweat of fear tingled her upper lip. One step from the safety of Darren's embrace, a pinching grip seized her arm.
As nails dug into her arm, Lydia realized it wasn't Ross. Their contact had finally arrived.
"Sorry, I was late," the short brunette said as her leg angled up and around, landing across Ross's neck, taking down all six-foot two-inches of him. "Over here," she continued while straightening her earring.
Lydia jetted across the room, eyes pegged on her contact. It only took 1.5 seconds for terror to nail her feet to the wood floor as Ross gathered himself up out of the pile on the ground, threw his head back and let out an ear-popping howl. Lydia turned her wide eyes to the window--a full moon.
So it was true.
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