So earlier this week I proofread and submitted my latest Naomi Clark novel and was all set to dive into Wild Blood MC 3, when Evernight dropped their latest anthology call. Oops!
Well, how can I resist? Lawless? Mafia, MC, bad boys? This so far up my street it might as well be my house. Of course I want to write something for it! "But Amber," I hear you say, "what about the whole thing of not starting new stories this year?"
I know, I know! That is totally still a thing! Luckily for me, I have loads of stories I've already started and put on hold for various reasons. I didn't include them on my "to-do" list for this year because they just weren't high up on my priorities compared to others, but one of them is perfect for this anthology call, so I've decided to have a crack at finishing that off before getting back to Wild Blood MC 3.
This is actually a story inspired by a dream I had, and it would be pretty cool to have it accepted into what's undoubtedly going to be a great collection. It's called Vandal (working title; I'm debating changing it), and I thought I'd give you a little look today! Enjoy ;)
Well, how can I resist? Lawless? Mafia, MC, bad boys? This so far up my street it might as well be my house. Of course I want to write something for it! "But Amber," I hear you say, "what about the whole thing of not starting new stories this year?"
I know, I know! That is totally still a thing! Luckily for me, I have loads of stories I've already started and put on hold for various reasons. I didn't include them on my "to-do" list for this year because they just weren't high up on my priorities compared to others, but one of them is perfect for this anthology call, so I've decided to have a crack at finishing that off before getting back to Wild Blood MC 3.
This is actually a story inspired by a dream I had, and it would be pretty cool to have it accepted into what's undoubtedly going to be a great collection. It's called Vandal (working title; I'm debating changing it), and I thought I'd give you a little look today! Enjoy ;)
The Black Cat ran a fine line between trashy and classy. The slick black and chrome décor was all class; the women dancing on stage were…well, Vandal wasn’t complaining. In their skin-baring outfits and skyscraper heels, they were all boldly sexy and all too happy to flirt with the guys. The music was shitty bubblegum pop and the drinks were subpar, but the atmosphere made up for that. The Black Cat was a place to come and get wasted, and once you’d knocked back a few beers or snorted a few lines, the music didn’t matter.
Vandal and the rest of his crew snagged a table near the stage, close enough to see every exposed inch of flesh as the dancers writhed and rocked around the poles. The air was thick with dry ice and the scent of sweat and cheap perfume, with just a hint of musty pot somewhere in the mix. That was really Vandal’s drug of choice, and he glanced around, trying to pinpoint the source of the smell.
A flash of red caught his eye and he turned in his chair to see one of the dancers on stage pulling another girl up to join them. Vandal watched admiringly as the long-legged redhead hopped on stage, laughing wildly. Her slim frame was encased in tight black jeans and a lime green tank top. Tattoos decorated her right arm from shoulder to wrist, and her hair was a shocking shade that could only come from a bottle. He'd always had a thing for redheads.
She danced with a carefree abandon that contrasted with the practiced sexuality of the other girls. A beer bottle in one hand, she swivelled her hips and tossed her hair, dancing for her own pleasure and ignoring the panting crowd before her. It was damn sexy, that casual confidence, and he found himself leaning forwards to watch closer.
Vandal and the rest of his crew snagged a table near the stage, close enough to see every exposed inch of flesh as the dancers writhed and rocked around the poles. The air was thick with dry ice and the scent of sweat and cheap perfume, with just a hint of musty pot somewhere in the mix. That was really Vandal’s drug of choice, and he glanced around, trying to pinpoint the source of the smell.
A flash of red caught his eye and he turned in his chair to see one of the dancers on stage pulling another girl up to join them. Vandal watched admiringly as the long-legged redhead hopped on stage, laughing wildly. Her slim frame was encased in tight black jeans and a lime green tank top. Tattoos decorated her right arm from shoulder to wrist, and her hair was a shocking shade that could only come from a bottle. He'd always had a thing for redheads.
She danced with a carefree abandon that contrasted with the practiced sexuality of the other girls. A beer bottle in one hand, she swivelled her hips and tossed her hair, dancing for her own pleasure and ignoring the panting crowd before her. It was damn sexy, that casual confidence, and he found himself leaning forwards to watch closer.
