Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Excerpt From "Dandelion Tears"

Click here for the post that this one is refering to.

"Entre," answered Melanie as she quickly stuck the t-shirts behind her back.

Jon stepped in and slowly walked to the couch and took a seat next to Melanie. Scratching his head with the towel, he asked, "Was that...Spanish I heard you speak just now?"

"Yes. I thought you were one of my servants. They were originally from South America and even some two hundred years later, they still don't speak a word of English. Can understand it well enough if need be, but they choose to converse exclusively in their native tongue. So I give them a little stability by talking to them in the same tongue as well."

"Pretty brutal if you ask me."

"How so?"

Jon decided not to answer her question, simply because he didn't want to get into another argument. Instead, he gave her knee a gentle squeeze and switched topics. "Mel, how many will be coming to the house tonight?"

Melanie gave his hand a squeeze, before removing it and getting up from the couch. Taking a seat on his lap, she gave his cheek a soft kiss and said, "I would have to say about four. No, wait, that isn't right. Hang on a second."

She snapped her fingers and one of the vixens instantly appeared at her side. The vixen leaned over and whispered something in her ear, before disappearing the same way she arrived. Standing up, Melanie took his hand and gave his fingers a light kiss and a soft suck. When she'd finished, she wiped the trail of blood from her lips and said, "There will be at least eight. Two originals and six repros?"

Flexing his hand for a moment, he asked, "Repros?"

"Reproductions." Melanie paused for a moment as she briefly glanced at the wall clock. "We haven't much time before they show up, so I need you to get dressed posthaste, because I also need to give you a crash course in defending yourself."

"What, I can defend myself just as good as anybody else."

"In the traditional sense, yes. In my world, you need help."

Jon sighed, and said, "Fine, so I need help."

"That you do. In the meantime, get dressed and make sure you match up what you're wearing with what I got on."

"How am I gonna match up with what you got on? I mean, Mel, what you got on isn't exactly from this planet. This galaxy maybe, but not from this planet."

"I know that. Just study what I'm wearing and find something that's equivalent. Got it?"

Jon stood up and ran his hands over the upper half of her body. He didn't make contact but simply got them close enough for Melanie to feel the energy and passion that he was exuding. Once he finished, he leaned in and did the same thing with his mouth along the outside of her face, before stopping at her right ear.

Giving it a light kiss, he whispered, "You're in that hunter's mode from when we were dating, my love. I can taste the intoxicating scent pouring out your body and I do believe that my soul is aching to be comforted by yours."

Melanie looked at Jon and saw in his eyes the love and passion from those early years reignited and burning with an intensity that she long though extinguished. Caressing his cheek, she didn't say a word, but simply took a half dozen steps forward, turned and gave him a look that told him in no uncertain terms that it was time to kick some major league ass.

>(c) 2010 by GBMJr. All rights reserved


  1. It will be interesting to see where this goes! Now I want to know more about what she's wearing. Namely, is she going commando? Just kidding!

  2. R: Actually, you aren't too far off the mark.

    What she's wearing is what I originally had her wearing in a short story that was pubbed on FGS in May.

    I have her wearing combat fatigues that stop at the knees; combat boots; tube top and long red hair in a braid.

    And yes, she did go commando earlier in the story.

    Now, considering that this has a large fantasy element in it, this is what she actually has on:

    combat fatigues that stop at the knees which are held up with an interlockng weave of black widows and scorpions; combat boots laced up with mini-copperheads and rabid wolve heads for toes; a cherry red tube top (instead of nipple bandages) and her hair done up in a razor whip braid made with real razors.


Originality. Is. Good. Be original. Be thoughtful. But most importantly, make me think.