~~A few pages into my paranormal novel, we come across the main character running into a drunk customer at the bar she runs.~~
My attention was then directed to the hand that had grabbed my butt.
Leaning down to the man, I noticed that he was non-blessed, paranormally speaking. I smiled.
“What else can I get you, doll?” He’d already gotten a hand full of my posterior so a drink was the only other thing he could have as I twitched away from his hand.
“I’ll have a whiskey sour, with only one ice cube.”
I noticed that he had four empty glasses stacked up in front of him and was looking a sick shade of green, so I pulled rank.
“How about I send you a carafe of coffee and then we see if you want that whiskey in an hour?”
His breath reeked. He stood up slowly. If he’d moved any faster then I would’ve been holding the man up.
“I said I want the whiskey, not your lip. Go take your ass over there and get it for me.”
I sighed. I looked him in his basset hound eyes and said as sweetly as pie, “Sugar, you’re in the wrong place for this. I‘ll be more than happy to get you a skoash of whiskey but first you need to sit your sweet little self down for a spell, okay?”
My accent always got stronger when my emotions got involved. I felt his stir with my other gifts, this was going to be a might more sticky of a wick.
“Look, whatever you are, just shut those gabbers and tottle that fine ass back here with my whiskey.”
Yeah, it struck a cord. I looked into his eyes and used what my boss had allowed me to use, my power. The alcohol laden breath waved in my face as his eyes dilated. I was glad when he held his breath with shock as I got nose to nose with him.
“You will calm down. You will sit down for an hour and enjoy the coffee, and then you’ll call a cab to take you home. You will be happy and not be a jerk, okay?”
Whiskey emanated as he repeated my compelling request, “I will not be a jerk,” he whispered.
I broke my eye contact and patted him on the shoulder as he slid back into his seat.
“I’ll be right back with that coffee, sugar,” I left him to shake it off.
I headed toward the kitchen for that coffee and got side tracked on the way.
“I was wondering if I needed to intervene, but I guess you didn’t need me after all,” Silas said.
I looked up from his swelling chest, into his concerned eyes, and wasn’t sure how to read him. He seemed hurt but I decided it was more of an issue with how I’d handled it.
“Well, I do admire a knight coming to save the damsel, but this damsel has a few stages of distress before she requires a ride to safety,” I decided to make a joke instead of being defensive.
“Hmm, I heard the riding of a damsel can be worth a few flesh wounds.”
“Yes, I’m sure they can be, when the damsel is in desperate need of said action.”
“I will gladly throw my services into the bargain if they are indeed ever needed by that damsel,” he bowed and I walked past him. Smiling.
)))Corset Hugs(((
Ginny Lynn
Wench Writer
Unpublished and needs more work, but you get the gist.
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