FLASH FICTION FRIDAY - HAPPY WEEKEND EVERYONE!

A 50 word flash fiction story with 5 words taken from Thursday's The History of Sex: Part 14.

She had gotten used to the scrutiny, both public and behind her back. She didn’t care. With the bevy of young lovers at her beck and call people could say what they wished, but she knew they wished for what she had - the Wilde life.

If you'd like to participate in FF Friday, please send your 50 word story with 5 words taken from a Thursday post. Email your story to madlakepages@gmail.com. Don't be shy. Just do it.

TITILLATING TUESDAY - A CLOUD OF HAWTHORNE

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Henley raced through brambles and thickets until he reached the barn at the far end of the property. Gaspar, his ten year old gelding, was in a stall munching on a pile of fresh alfalfa. He looked up when Henley entered and gave a soft whinny. Henley grabbed the saddle pad and threw it over Gaspar’s brushed back. He placed the heavy leather saddle on top, making sure it was set comfortably below the withers before swinging the girth under his belly and synching it down.

“There’s a good boy,” Henley said soothingly, as he mounted the fine horse. “Are you ready for some exercise? Heeya,” he yelled.” The horse took off at a gallop into the warm, early afternoon.

FLASH FICTION CONTRIBUTED

The following was submitted by an anonymous contributor. Love it. Must share.

The barn was big and cold but soon Ronald would be there for their tryst. Lisa shivered in anticipation of the orgasm she was sure to have. Ronald promised her a special night after all the bother with the barn location and the pseudonym debacle earlier.

You too can play. Just send your 50 word story using 5 words from the most recent Thursday post: The History of Sex, to madlakepages@gmail.com. It's crazy fun, and oh so easy. Thank you, Anonymous!

FLASH FICTION FRIDAY

A 50 word flash fiction story with 5 words taken from Thursday's The History of Sex: Part 13.

After her orgasm, Daphne tiptoed into the bathroom, quickly washed the necessary body parts, dressed, and left him sleeping. She was outrageously hungry, so walked to the coffee shop and ordered breakfast, where she flirted with a Major in the armed forces, who thought she was a virgin. Oh well.

If you'd like to participate in FF Friday, please send your 50 word story with 5 words taken from a Thursday post. Email your story to madlakepages@gmail.com. Don't be shy. Just do it.

TITILLATING TUESDAY - A CLOUD OF HAWTHORNE

CHAPTER TWELVE

Henley put the crockery teacup to his mother’s lips and tipped the fragrant herbal tea into her quivering mouth. She pushed it away.

“Stop behaving like a baby, Mother. You’re being absolutely ridiculous.”

Edith turned her cheek to him and put her nose in the air.

“I’m being ridiculous? Have you taken a good look at yourself, Henley?” 

Edith glared over at Rosetta who was busy kneading dough into a soft, silky ball. When the consistency was to her liking, she rolled it into an oblong pancake, rubbed soft, unpasturized butter onto the smooth surface, and sprinkled brown sugar, cinnamon, and currents over top. She turned up the edges at one end and rolled until it was a tubular shape. Slicing along the tube, she cut a dozen cinnamon filled circles, which she placed on a greased cookie sheet to bake in the wood cookstove.

“Think about what you’re doing, Henley,” Edith continued. “Getting involved with a servant girl who bakes bread, cleans and gathers herbs. Your grandfather would turn in his grave if he knew.” Henley just laughed.

“I doubt it, Mother. If memory serves me, Henley the first was a renegade, a libertine. Yes, he’d be turning in his grave alright, wanting out.”

TITILLATING TUESDAY - A CLOUD OF HAWTHORNE

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The following day was quiet at the Hornbrook estate, save the household staff cleaning up after the ball. There had been a large crowd in attendance, which the family was pleased about, but that meant a good day’s work clearing the room of china, fine crystal, and stemware, the mess left behind by some of the younger people who had stayed on till well past midnight, drinking champagne and smoking out on the lawn. 

Dorrington left shortly after Wesley, Proberta, and Henley had moved to the drawing room, and took his tired aunt home. Wesley had shown outward disappointment when hearing that news, much to the surprise of the rest of the group, but no one paid much attention. Wesley, on the other hand, could not keep thoughts of this fine young gentleman at bay, concocting various schemes of how they could get together again, and sooner the better. He had no idea how long Dorrington planned on staying with his aunt, but Wesley felt sure they would have the opportunity to converse, or go out for a ride, preferably alone. Perhaps Dorrington could be convinced to stay on a few weeks longer than planned. 

Henley rose early, put on his flannel shirt, corduroy trousers, and Macintosh, slipped on his green Hunter boots, and headed out of doors for a walk. The morning air was cool and damp, the grounds covered in heavy dew. He took a deep breath and picked up his pace. He enjoyed being out in the early part of the day. It was peaceful, but also held a certain level of excitement, for he never knew what forest animal he might startle as he made his way farther from the protected grounds of the estate, and deeper into the woods. Dawn and dusk were known as the times when all natural creatures roamed their land freely. Birds chirped loudly, foliage crunched underfoot as deer, elk, rabbits, and fox, came out of hiding, fearless on their home turf, before the full light of day. 

A CLOUD OF HAWTHORNE

CHAPTER TWO

Henley towel dried his hair, slapped on some cologne, and walked into the bedroom where Beckworth had laid out his evening wear. He had called his manservant off his duties so he might have some privacy to consider the events ahead of him. With Proberta and her parents due to arrive at seven, he had little, if any time to get out of his present situation. The proposal was expected. Although his father seemed less than interested in the whole affair, his mother was hell-bent on his marrying society’s most eligible debutant. Proberta’s parents, Sir Miles Gerber, and his charming wife, Alexandra, couldn't be happier. As for the young woman in question, Henley felt that, like him, she was just doing her duty. After observing her at cocktail parties and balls, Proberta seemed more inclined to be a reckless flirt than to want to settle for one man, particularly someone like Henley. She was witty, clever, and gorgeous, and knew it. Henley had a  reputation for being only moderately good looking, uninterested in hunting, fishing, or athletics, all of which were practically mandatory for those of the male persuasion, and to top things off, he was a bore at social events. Once married, Henley knew all this and more, would only increase her outside interests. However, arrangements were being made and nothing was to be done, or was there?

A CLOUD OF HAWTHORNE - TEASER

                                     ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Edith relaxed, looked around to see that no one nearby could see her, and casually wandered toward the shrouded figure. When she got close enough, she ducked behind the tree and came face to face with an exotic, albeit rustic looking woman. 

“Hello, Rosetta,” Edith said with keen interest. “Do you have my tinctures?” 

                                      ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

She hardly glanced into the drawing room as she passed, so did not see her husband fast asleep in the mahogany armchair, whiskey precariously tilted toward the floor in his drooping hand. It was just as well. She had no tolerance for her husband, Henley II’s, idleness.

                                     ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Teach him. Show him all there is to know about sex and women. Equip him with the tricks of the trade, as it were.” She paused to consider her next move. “I will pay you handsomely I assure you.”

Chapter One of A Cloud of Hawthorne will be posted next Tuesday, January 10th, followed by each new chapter every Tuesday until The End.

Stay tuned...

  

SALON ANTICS - CHAPTER 18

WRAP UP, LOCK UP

It was mid afternoon on a Tuesday and although on crutches, Liam Irish had been released from the hospital the day before and was now with the others waiting for Officer Billy and his partner, Fred, to arrive at the club. The police cruiser pulled into the back alley out of direct view of traffic, as directed by Della the day before. With the trashing, and then the shooting, they didn’t want to frighten off customers any more than they had already. Della met the two officers at the side door. 

“Hi. You must be Savannah’s brother, Billy,” Della said, looking directly at the handsome young man who was the spitting image of his sister. Then Della looked over at the other, older gentleman.

“This here’s my partner in crime, Fred,” offered Billy. “Fred, this is...”

“Della. It’s Della,” she said, almost choking out the words as she melted under Fred’s gaze. He wouldn’t take his eyes off of her until, finally, she turned away.

“Uh, c’mon over, fellas. I’ll introduce you to the others.”

TITILLATING TUESDAY

CHAPTER 16 - WHO CAME KNOCKING

Shock and disbelief swept over the lot of them as the extent of the damage began to sink in. It was two days after the horrible incident at The Lady. An old ghetto blaster had been set up to drown out the din of clean-up while Harry, the bartender, and a crew of bouncers set tables and chairs back in place and swept away shards of broken glass. The atmosphere was gloomy. No one had heard from or seen Dominic Diaz, which spoke volumes, but no one really wanted to see him. They all knew from their simmering anger and frustration that if he were to walk into the club right now he might not make it out alive.

As usual, Liam and Genevieve were sitting with Della at the back corner table when Miguel entered through the backstage door. What lights were still functioning cast a dim glow in the room. Although clean-up had begun, based on the dismal state of things, it was going to be a long, slow process despite the need to get things up and running swiftly. 

“Hey,” Miguel said as he approached the table. “Glad to see someone’s still hanging around. Anything I can do to help out?”

“Have a seat, Miguel,” Liam offered. He scooted over on the cushioned bench of the booth to make room. Miguel obliged. 

“Where’s the rest of them? Where’s Mitch and Fran?” 

“They went home,” Liam replied. “It has all been too much for them, especially Franny.” He looked at Della, then to G, who was slumped in the corner, head bent forward. “They just need a break. I told them we’d take care of things.”

“Oh for sure, man,” Miguel said, jumping in enthusiastically. “I’ll do what ever it takes. No problem.”

Normally Liam would have smiled at that, but he was too distracted trying to make sense of this blatant show of revenge by who was now their enemy. The game had changed. With unspoken thoughts, it was clear to them all that this meant war. Each one bore their own outrage, their own grief, each had a bone to pick with Dominic Diaz. And, if Dom was capable of this, what else might he do? The scope of their plan felt overwhelming now, and they all wondered if they were in over their heads. But they all knew they were in it together, and Dom must be stopped - somehow.

TITILLATING TUESDAY

CHAPTER 15 - ACCIDENTS  

        Miguel stood in the doorway, looking toward the small bed. She looked lovely and serene lying there, naked against the darkness. He still didn’t understand how he’d ended up there. He had gone out that night with entirely different motives in mind, and through a series of accidents had ended up there, with her. 

He continued to stare at those rosy cheeks, her smooth pale shoulders peeking out from under white satin sheets, her slender neck that irresistibly called out for him. If he had his way, he’d climb back in beside her, snuggle up to her warm body and make wild, passionate love all morning, all day. She was perfect - perfect for him. Had he paid more attention earlier to her needs, to who she really was, he may have determined her finer qualities much sooner, but he had been too distracted to notice. At least, he thought, he’d figured it out now, which is all that mattered.

  Miguel did not believe in accidents, nor did he believe the story she told him late last night was false. They all knew by now that Dominic Diaz was a good for nothing swindler and thief who had been ripping off The Foxy Lady for years, unbeknownst to its rightful owners Mitch and Fran Del Monte. What’s more, he had wreaked havoc there the previous night, busting the club up to the tune of thousands of dollars that neither Mitch nor anyone else had. Even though they all knew Dom was the culprit, without proof, they could hardly approach him outright. Miguel wasn’t sure why she had blurted out this new information to him, why she trusted him above all else. Not until now. 

TITILLATING TUESDAY

CHAPTER 14 - TURNING TRIX

When Liam arrived at the salon just before ten the next morning, Genevieve had already opened. The smell of freshly brewed coffee swept out from the back room to greet him. He smiled. He felt happier than he’d felt in a long time, even with all the drama going down at the club. He dropped his appointment book at the front desk and walked to the back of the salon. To his surprise, Fran was sitting in the last chair wrapped in foils and draped in a maroon robe. She looked up as he approached. 

      “Hey Irish, how’s it going?”  

Liam did not hide his surprise. 

      “Aren’t you a bit early, Franny? I thought we all agreed to meet at noon.” 

      Genevieve rounded the corner from the staff room, carrying a mixture of bleach for Fran’s hair. She looked so perky and radiant it took Liam’s breath away. He just stood there like a dummy until he was brought out of his stupor by the women’s laughter.

      “What’s with you, Irish? Fran said jovially. “Cat got your tongue?”

CHAPTER 12 - SHOWTIME

Mitch arrived at the club around eleven, a bit early for him, but by the way he hovered around the bar tossing back shots, Liam figured he must have had some serious business to tend to. Fifteen minutes later Dom arrived. He was dressed to the nines, a maroon silk shirt, unbuttoned to his midriff, where a gold chain hung in among his chest hair. He left his tailored leather jacket hanging open, to show off a gold plated belt buckle the size of Miami. The bottom of his tight black trousers barely fit over his grey and beige snakeskin cowboy boots, which may as well have had spurs on them with the noise they made.

“Gimme a JD, Harry, will ya?” 

“Comin’ right up, boss.”

Harry grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels from the bar shelf and poured a generous amount into a tumbler. He handed it to Dom.

“Bottoms-up.” Dominic raised his glass to Harry and pounded back the whiskey, followed by a vigorous shake of his head. “Gotta keep up with my pal here.” Dominic winked at Mitch, who proceeded to turn away.

“Aw, c’mon now, Mitch. We’re pals, right?” Dominic slapped his hand on Mitch’s back and pulled him in close until he was breathing down his neck. Leaning in, but looking out into the crowd, he whispered, “We’re such good pals that you’re gonna give me a heckava fucking deal for this joint, ain’t that right Mitchy baby?”

Chapter 11 – THE UNRAVELING

Frances Del Monte was sitting on the sofa in the waiting area, holding a mug of coffee, tears streaming down her cheeks, when Genevieve and Miguel unlocked the salon door and walked in. Liam was beside her with his arm wrapped comfortingly around her shoulders, trying to console, but to no avail.

            “Why didn’t he tell me, Irish? That’s what I don’t understand. He usually tells me everything.” Fran began sobbing again.

            “Genevieve, would you mind closing the blinds on the door so people think we’re closed.” He looked back at Fran. “There, there Franny. We’ll sort this out.”

            Genevieve did as she was told, while Miguel walked to the staff room to get a drink of water. Really, he just wanted to get out of the way. He disliked seeing people upset. It made him uncomfortable. Genevieve remained with Liam and Fran.

            Suddenly Fran brightened and straightened up.

            “Irish, I want to go home.” She glanced over at Genevieve. “You can come too, G.”

            Genevieve looked at Liam, who looked bewildered.

            “What purpose would that serve, Fran? It’ll just make Mitch feel ganged up on. We have to come up with a better plan if we’re going to work this out.”

            Fran looked dejected. Her shoulders drooped again and her eyes began to well up with tears. Then Genevieve piped in.

            “I have a solution.”

TITILLATING TUESDAY PAGE TURNERS

Chapter 10 - MIGUEL

             “Come on in, G. The water’s great.”

            Genevieve sat on the beach in her red halter-top bikini, watching Miguel body surf. The sand was soft and warm underneath the blanket he had laid out for her. She was hot, with the sun beating down on her, and the water did look inviting, but not enough for her to join him. Miguel caught another wave then walked up from the shoreline to greet her, shaking his wet head of hair over her dry, sun-stroked body.

            “Miguel! Must you shake water all over me?”

            Miguel plopped himself on the blanket, playfully rolled on top of her, and smothered her with his sopping body. At first she resisted, but even in her agitated mood she couldn’t help give in to his mischievousness behavior. She was a sucker for spontaneous fun.

            They made out, there on the blanket, in the sand, for a long, luxurious while. For some reason she found his salty kisses very sensual, maybe because his lips were so full and wet. He groped around her warm body cautiously, as they weren’t the only ones on the beach. Miguel was sensitive about privacy when it came to matters of the heart and body, unlike Genevieve, who was much more of a free spirit. He had considered himself to be a bit of a risk taker when it came to sex, but on meeting Genevieve, he realized she had him beat. He found her sense of reckless abandon highly seductive, which was one reason he simply could not stay away from her. Her beauty, charm and now her aloofness were all a turn-on as well. How ironic, he thought, that he should be chasing a woman who seemed disinterested. It gave him all the more reason to conquer her.

TITILLATING TUESDAY PAGE TURNERS

CHAPTER 9 - THE LADY

Miguel’s plan was to whisk Genevieve up the I-195 E to Surfside for the day. He knew a couple of secluded beaches where they could fool around. After their risqué encounter on the floor of Snippets the day they met, he figured she’d be up for some fun in the sun, but he soon realized his plan was not going to happen. Genevieve was now busy helping Liam out in the salon, even though it was her day off. Damn Irish, he thought. What does he have that I don’t?

            “I made plans for us, you know,” Miguel said to Genevieve, as she helped Kathy to her chair. “It’s your day off, for crissakes. Don’t you want to get the hell out of this blasted heat and head to the beach?”

He was almost pleading, but her interest in him seemed lost. He couldn’t figure out what had happened between their lustful tryst and now. Mind you, they hadn’t seen each other since that day, but that wasn’t his fault, nor was it to his liking. He had called her every day, but talking on the phone just didn’t have the same effect as spending time together. He liked Genevieve – a lot. Not only was she drop dead gorgeous, she was smart, sassy, and he had to admit, part of the intrigue was the fact that she was unavailable to him. If they spoke regularly and got to know each other, he thought she’d realize he felt more for her than a passing fling. He wanted to be her boyfriend, but getting close seemed next to impossible.

CHAPTER 8 - MITCH

Miguel was waiting at the door when Liam arrived to open the salon. It was ten o’clock.

            “Morning, Miguel. What are you doing here so bright and early? Not in need of another haircut already, are you?” Liam said sarcastically, as he turned the key and opened the door. Miguel didn’t seem to notice.

            “No, I have a date with Genevieve,” he said. Liam looked amused.

            “Really? Why are you meeting her here? It’s her day off. Why not pick her up at her place?”

            “I don’t know,” replied Miguel, who seemed to be realizing this for the first time. “She just said she had some unfinished business at the salon, and to meet her here, that’s all.”

            Miguel walked straight in and sat down in the waiting area. His tight white t-shirt showed off his naturally tanned skin, as well as his taut muscles. At thirty eight, Liam was fifteen years older than Miguel, and more than fifteen pounds heavier, and had long ago given up hope of ever sporting a body like that. He had always been taller and broader than most of his peers, which, over the years, gave way to a look which suited him, and that he felt comfortable with. He looked neither fat nor out of shape, just big, and he liked it that way. Although he wasn’t an athletic man, he did spend two hours a day, Monday through Friday, at the gym, and walked the seven blocks to work. That, he felt, was enough to maintain a healthy lifestyle.  

            He took off his lightweight cardigan and draped it over the back of his desk chair, revealing tattoo sleeves on both arms.

CHAPTER 7 - AFTER THOUGHTS

For the first time since Genevieve had started working at the salon, she was late. Liam tried calling her cell but she wasn’t picking up. Meanwhile, he managed to keep Amy Richardson somewhat entertained, which was no small feat.

            Amy was twenty five, had married into money, and was extremely entitled. She drove around town in a canary yellow mustang convertible, flaunted expensive bebe t-shirts that invariably showed her midriff, wore three inch wedge or spiked heels, and kept her wrists and fingers covered in finely cut diamonds. However, her high maintenance regime included weekly visits to Snippets, which basically paid the rent on Liam’s seven hundred square foot salon, so despite urges over the years, to tell her off, Liam bit his tongue, and put up with her many demands.

LIAM GETS LUCKY

            Della’s presence brought an eerie hush in the room. She had walked in from the side door when one of the bouncers clued her in to what was going down backstage. She knew she was needed.

            “So, Dom, what seems to be the problem?” Della was staring directly into his eyes, her hands firmly planted on her hips. Dominic looked annoyed.

            “Fucked if I know. I saw this schmuck sneaking into sweet little Savannah’s room, and, well, it just stinks, that’s all. I don’ like it. Nobody messes with my girls, that’s all I’m sayin’.”

            Della thought for a minute before responding.

            “Your girls? Really? Have you asked Savannah how she feels?”

            Dominic shifted restlessly from foot to foot. He didn’t like confrontations at the best of times. He knew he was a loose cannon, and could snap at any moment, but he held fast.

 “Listen, Della. That is your name, aint it?” He looked at her, nonplussed. Della nodded. “So, here’s the deal. Since I now own this joint, I’m the one looking out for things, got it?” He glanced around the room to show who was in charge. “These here my girls, this my stage, this my show. Aint nobody telling me how I do things, even you.” He glared at Della who stood her ground. There was a long silence. Women’s eyes peered out from behind doors cracked just enough to get the gist of what was going on. Those brave enough to have remained standing out in the open hall, kept as still as statues. Images of how this would all end up raced through Liam’s head. Would Dominic win, therefore gaining even more unnecessary power to fuel his gangster ways. Liam hated the idea. Tension hung in the air like a fuse ready to be lit.

CHAPTER 5 - DARK AND DIRTY SECRETS

By the end of the week, the small riot was already a distant memory. The club was cleaned up, a few new bouncers were on staff, and things were as they should be.

Liam returned to The Foxy Lady the following Tuesday, and the Tuesday after that. Della kept him from prying information out of her about Genevieve, by telling stories of some of the other girls. She disliked gossip of any kind, although it was difficult not to get sucked into a little bit now and then. Some of the stories she heard were enough to make even Della squirm, and she was one tough cookie. One thing she did tell Irish, however, was that Genevieve was different than the others. She kept to herself, wasn’t there to steal the limelight from any of the old timers, and minded her own business. The other dancers seemed to like her well enough, and she was no trouble for the club, although she often arrived just in time to go on, which by Della’s standards was pushing it.

But there was something lingering that Della could not put her finger on. Liam wasn’t surprised. Genevieve had proven to Liam that she was someone he could trust, and that went far with him. She was eccentric and edgy, that was for certain, but that wasn’t the issue. What bothered him was her reserve, like she was hiding something, and Liam felt whatever that something was, it was big. She definitely had some deep, dark secret and it bothered him that he didn’t know what it was.