Bronwyn Green

The Corner of Quirky & Kinky

It’s time for another Promptly Penned post. As always, the prompt will be in bold in the text. I don’t usually like to do this, but this is an excerpt from a WIP.

I wrinkled my nose at the sharp scent of the dry-erase marker as I carefully wrote the recipe on both sides of the portable white board.


I whirled toward the sound of my best friend’s voice, ruining my careful lettering. Glaring at her, I capped the marker and set it on the board’s metal rail.

“Soooooo…what?” I asked.

“So, what’s going on with you and the hot substitute?”

I rolled my eyes. “Who says anything’s going on?”

Luisa hopped up onto a prep table, crossed her legs and waited. Staring at me. Waiting. “How long have I known you?”

“Since third grade,” I muttered, crossing my arms over my chest.

Luisa smiled that self-satisfied smile she knew annoyed me. “Okay, so lemme ask again, what’s up with you and the hot substitute? Also, cute dress. I don’t think I’ve seen that before.”

Sighing, I pulled a chair out from the table and flopped into it. “I’ll explain about him, but you’re gonna need to buckle up.”

Lu kicked off her shoes and tucked her feet up under her, bangles jingling around her wrist. “Bring it.”

“You know how Austin is the biggest manchild in the history of manchildren?”

She nodded with a grimace.

I took a deep breath. “I got up this morning, got ready to come here, loaded up all six dozen eggs, the cheeses, veggies, then tripped over Beer Can Mountain that Austin so thoughtfully left in the hallway, splattered stale beer all over myself, went into my room to change, the only things that are clean were this dress and the bridesmaid dress from your wedding—”

“That would have been a bold choice for cooking class.”

I snorted. “Anyway, I went to grab my computer because I’ve got invoicing to do, and it’s gone. I looked everywhere. Turns out, one of Manchild’s asshole friends stole it and pawned it.”

Lu’s eyes narrowed, and her nostrils flared.

“Yeah, so there was a whole thing with the cops. And by the time I’d filed a report and bitched out Austin, the eggs were warm, and on my way to take them out to the trash I saw Austin’s car sitting there and,” I put my hands over my face, “I lost my damn mind and threw every single egg at his car. I just unloaded. There was egg everywhere. It even slid inside the open window.”

Luisa’s laugh exploded from her on a sharp burst of sound. “That’s my boo.”

I peeked through my fingers at her. “Except…it wasn’t Austin’s car.”

Lu’s eyes widened, and she slapped her hand over her mouth. I could tell she wanted to laugh.  

“And then? I was feeling snappish when I brought those worksheets to that guy like you asked me to and lectured him about not asking for last minute printing.” I felt my face flush all over again. Heat rose from my chest all the way up my neck and face to the top of my scalp. “And then, he turned around. It was his car I egged, Lu. The sub’s. And the egg slime got all over his seats and his worksheets.”

She did chuckle then. She didn’t even pretend to try not to. “And then you dropped the papers when you realized, I assume?”

I nodded.

Her chuckling evolved into giggling. I scowled at her when the giggling turned into helpless laughter and tears leaked over her cheeks. “Why are you glaring at me?” she choked out. “This the funniest thing I’ve heard in ages.”

“Currently, I’m hoping you’ll spontaneously combust.

That just made her laugh harder.

“This is a nightmare.” I groaned.

“Yep.” She snorted. “Bailey and the terrible, no good, very bad day.”

“Exactly. I think I’ll move to Australia,” I added, quoting our favorite kids’ book.

Luisa snorted, hopped off the table and dropped a kiss on the top of my head. “Some days are like that. Even in Australia, she quoted back to me.”

It was good to have people who really got you. Even when they laughed at your pain and humiliation.

That’s it for me, today. Be sure to check out the other bloggers’ stories by clinking on their names.

Jess * Kayleigh * Siobhan * Kris

“Ugh. Fuck my life,” I muttered, as I rounded the counter to start my shift.

Not only did I have to work with Cassidy, Queen of the Bitches, but the guy I’d turned down last night at a campus party was sitting at a table across from the barista’s station.

Cassidy arched a perfectly shaped black brow at me. “Language, cupcake. Who pissed in your cornflakes this morning?”

I ignored her. I didn’t have the energy to worry about her attitude when I was more concerned about whether Trey showing up here was intentional or just an unfortunate coincidence.

“Table ten’s order is up,” Cassidy said, setting a large coffee and breakfast sandwich on the counter.

Table ten was Trey’s. I stifled a sigh when I saw it wasn’t a to-go order. My unease must have been apparent, because she grabbed my wrist.

“What’s wrong?”

I shook my head. “Nothing.”

But she didn’t release me, and instead just stared me down.

“Fine. The guy at table ten is a dick.”

“He’s a dude bro. And?”

I sighed. “And he got super handsy at a party last night. Wouldn’t take no for an answer until I told him I have a boyfriend. Even then, it took another guy to get him to leave me alone.”

Her expression darkened, and she gently squeezed my wrist. She reached beneath the counter and pulled out one of the trays we hardly ever used. Setting the food on it, she said, “I got this.”

She rounded the counter with a huge smile on her face. As she she got closer to him, her smile widened. “Here’s your breakfast.”

Veering slightly to the right, she caught her foot on another patron’s computer cord, and pitched forward, tray and all. The sandwich landed with a splat on the table, then slipped to the floor, and the coffee left the huge mug, arcing up and over to drench both Trey and his phone. The mug bounced off the table and smashed on the floor.

He yelped, leaping to his feet, and Cassidy gasped. “I am so sorry!”

She quickly untangled herself from the cord and pulled a bunch of napkins from a dispenser and began half-heartedly blotting at him.

“I’ll get you a new order right away!”

“Forget it,” he snarled, and stalked out the door.

Bending, she picked up the broken pieces of mug and tossed them in the trash. Then, she rounded the counter and pulled a washrag from a tub of soapy water and dropped it into my hand. “Clean up in aisle four, cupcake.”

That’s it for me, today. But be sure to check out the other bloggers’ stories by clicking on their names.

Jess * Siobhan * Kris

Let’s talk about goals! I’m honestly feeling pretty damn good about things! I mean, life is still chaotic and stressful, but I feel like, in general, I’m handling my shit a lot better than I have been. So, now let’s bring on those goals and see how I did.

For the month of March, I said I was going to:

  • Continue to make daily progress on the WIP. (Yepper)
  • Finish all scheduled blog posts. (Yep)
  • Finish all scheduled audio preps. (Yep)
  • Finish all scheduled edits. (Yep)
  • Finish the remaining Christmas presents. (Hahahahahaha no.)
  • Practice good self-care. (Surprisingly, I have been)
  • Finish my newsletter story for Eden Books. (Nope, but I’m making good progress)
  • Survive my Tell Me a Story experience in Lucy Score’s group on FB. (I did. And it was SO MUCH FUN! Aaaaaand, I ended up with a new story that I’ll be working on, after I’m done with the current one.)

For the month of April, I want to:

  • Continue to make daily progress on the WIP.
  • Finish all scheduled blog posts.
  • Finish all scheduled audio preps.
  • Finish all scheduled edits.
  • Finish the remaining Christmas presents.
  • Practice good self-care.
  • Finish my newsletter story for Eden Books.
  • Work on some more promo graphics.
  • Work on a marketing plan for the next release.
  • Finish my taxes. (lolololSOB

That’s it for me, this month. Be sure to check out Jess‘ awesome progress on her post!

It’s time for another top ten post. This time, it’s best purchases ever. This is kind of a tough one for me. I’m not really big on shopping and buying stuff. Unless it’s project-related. But, let’s see what I can come up with. As always, these are in no particular order.

10.) My computer. I love this thing so much. And I refuse to go back to a Windows machine.

9.) These hair vitamins. You may remember the very important thank you letter I wrote to Adderall. Well, here’s the thing about Adderall. While it’s AMAZING at keeping my brain functioning better than it has in years, it also started making my hair fall out. In clumps. It was awful. But then I tried this stuff. My hair stylist can’t believe the difference and my hair looks better now than it did pre-kids and in my 20s. These vitamins are worth every last penny.

8.) This chair I picked up at an estate sale. I fell in love with it, even though my friend Kelsby thinks it’s haunted. She legit converses with it whenever she comes over. But I love it. It’s gorgeous and comfy and completely me. Even though the cats have destroyed the upholstery and I need to get it redone, I have NO REGERTS!

7.) My little sister just told me about this stuff, so I tried it. It makes your pores straight-up vanish.

6.) These awesome double-insulated water bottles I got at JoAnn Fabrics (50% off, baby!). I love them, and I drink way more water now. Because it stays so nice and cold.

5.) The Black Friday Deposit Photo deal. I love having credits that never expire and are there whenever I need some art for blogs or promo pics.

4.) Seeing Hamilton with my kids, my niece and nephew, my sister, and one of my brothers will always be one of the best things I’ve ever spent money on!

3.) This handy dandy organizer set gets used every single day, and it’s super cute!

2.) This tattoo? By far one of my best purchases.

1.) This cute AF nose ring that I adore.

Okay, that’s it for me. 10 super random best purchases ever. I think Gwen is the only other one blogging, today, so be sure to check her post, too!

Edited to add: Jess is here, too!

I’ve been hard at work on my next Bound book. It’s called Art and Soul, and it’ll be out this summer, sometime. I’ve gotta be honest. I’m just loving these two so much.

Two of the characters–one major and one minor–in this book are ceramicists. So, it’s all pottery, all the time. And now everyone in my life has to hear about how much I miss working with clay. Because I do. SO MUCH.

PS: Please enjoy the arms on this dude…

Meet Ellis Crawford. He’s an English ceramicist who’s an artist in residence at a university in the States.

And this is the other main character, Jasper Nolan. He’s a nurse, college student, and guardian of his teenage sister.

Here’s a short except from Art and Soul.

When he looked back at Ellis, he noticed the man had what looked like a t-shirt in his hand. “If you want, you can borrow this. It’s mostly clean.”

Jasper must have looked confused.

“I had it on for a couple hours before I changed into my work clothes—so, it’s mostly clean. Unless you fancy running around half naked.”

A startled laugh escaped him. “No, not really. I’d appreciate it…if you’re sure you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.”

Jasper took the shirt the other man offered and self-consciously pulled it over his head. The cotton was worn and incredibly soft, and it smelled like…comfort. There was the omnipresent earthy, metallic tang of clay, and beneath that, there was something else, something that made him think of sun-warmed grass and dark shadowed forests. He had no idea if that was some kind of cologne or soap or if it was just Ellis.

He pushed his arms through the sleeves. Whatever it was, he needed to shove it the fuck away. The last thing he needed was to develop an attraction to his sister’s teacher. That was the last thing she needed, too.

And here’s another.

Ellis laughed, but it strangled in his throat as he stared the other man’s exposed throat nearly overcome by the sudden urge to drag his lips along the strong column and taste the tempting hollow of his throat. Instead, he moved back to the table he’d been sat at earlier and began to rewedge the clay that was sitting on the bat.

What he really wanted to do was sculpt the long gorgeous line of Jasper’s neck. But that seemed like an altogether terrible idea for more reasons than he cared to think about. He absently began tugging and pulling at the clay while trying not to stare.

When he focused on what was taking shape beneath his fingers, he realized that it vaguely looked like two hands holding something between them. At least…it could be that. A trickle of excitement snaked along his spine. The sudden spark of creative energy sped his movements, and he grabbed a wooden rib from the box of tools on the table and rapidly refined the shape of the pot between what would become hands. Switching to a fettling knife, he sawed around the interior of the pot, hollowing it out slightly before smoothing the surface with a wet sponge.

Ellis turned his attention back to Jasper—well, to his hands, anyway. They weren’t overly large, but they were long-fingered, well-formed, strong. If he was being honest, they were hands he’d love to see around his cock—preferably guiding it into Jasper’s mouth. Ellis took a breath and shut his eyes. He needed to fucking focus on what he was doing. What he was here to do. Create material for a new collection. Not fantasize about a guy who, for all he knew, wasn’t even legal.

That’s it for me this week. Be sure to check out the other Behind the Scenes posts by clicking on the bloggers’ names.

Kris * Gwen * Jess

This week’s story was inspired by Avicii’s Wake Me Up”. You can check out the video here and the lyrics here.

Jasper stared at the man who was currently validating and encouraging his sister more than he realized she’d needed. Guilt prodded him. He’d been working so many hours lately, and when he wasn’t at work, he was in class or face-first in a textbook.

Christ. Maybe he really wasn’t cut out for this parenting thing. Or maybe he was just a melodramatic fuck because she needed something he couldn’t give her. Well, he could encourage and praise her—and he did—often. But he knew it wasn’t the same coming from someone without an artistic bone in his body. 

He tried to tamp down his jealousy as he watched her glow under Ellis’ praise.

“I think I’d like to deepen the grooves but I’d also like the edges to be less sharp—more rounded.”

Ellis nodded, his dark blue eyes never leaving Junie’s face. “Okay, my suggestion is—wait—do you even want suggestions? Or would you rather find your own way with this.”

He grinned, and it was honestly one of the most beautiful things Jasper had ever seen.

“I’m still new to this whole teaching gig,” he added with a shrug.

Junie nodded. “Well, I’d at least like to know what you’d do.”

Ellis turned his attention back to the pot and gently touched the inside and the outside. “It feels a little wetter than I’d like in terms of doing the finishing work. I think I’d wrap it in a couple layers of plastic and let it sit until class tomorrow. Then, take the ribbon tool to smooth out the grooves and a damp sponge to round the edges.”

She nodded again. “So, basically, let it get to the leather-hard stage before trying anything else.”

“That’s what I’d do.”

She beamed at him. “That’s good enough for me.”

Jasper watched, fascinated, as she took a piece of wire stretched between two wooden handles and sliced through the clay stuck to the metal plate, releasing her bowl from the wheel.

She turned to him with the wire tool dangling from her fingertips. “Do you want to try it on yours? Or would you rather I do it?”

“Are you implying I’m not capable?” 

She placed her free hand on her chest, spreading clay dust all over her pale blue t-shirt. “I am shocked—just shocked—that you’d even think that of me.”

Ellis snorted at the same time he did, and for a moment, he was caught in the other man’s gaze. But he managed to break free and grabbed the tool from June and tried to hold it like he’d seen her do a hundred times before, with the oblong pieces of wood against the insides of his fingers and the wire between his middle and ring fingers. Holding it taut, he dragged the wire against the metal plate, trying to keep the tension and speed even as he met the resistance of the bottom of his so called pot. Once he freed the clay from the wheel, he turned to June and stuck out his tongue.

She giggled. “You did it!”

“Oh ye of little faith…”

From the corner of his eye, he caught a wistful expression cross the other man’s face. It wasn’t the first time he’d noticed it tonight. He wanted to know more, but it wasn’t like they were friends. Sure, he’d slept in Ellis’ shirt last night, desperately wanting the comfort of his grass and forest scent, but he barely knew the man.

Despite wanting to, it wasn’t going to happen. Maybe in another life—one where he wasn’t both sole parent and provider for June. One where he was free to explore the attraction that had gripped him—where he could put his needs first or they could at least be on equal ground with hers.

It wasn’t that he regretted his choice. He didn’t. But saying yes to this life meant saying no to others. Ones where he might be free to ask Ellis out for a drink and maybe find out what it was that made him smell like someplace Jasper wanted to lose himself.

That’s it for me this week. Be sure to check out the other bloggers’ stories by clicking on their names.

Siobhan * G

As usual, the prompt will appear in bold.

“Okay, so because you have these tall skinny windows letting in all this luscious light, I’m thinking a palette of milky whites, soft grays, and vaporous blues would be perfection in here.”

I blinked at Michael, the interior designer that Polly, my business partner, insisted that we had to hire to decorate our new office. “What the hell are vaporous blues?”

His wife and business partner, Mim, handed me a glossy multifold pamphlet printed with paint color swatches and dragged the end of her fancy fountain pen down one of the columns. “These are vaporous blues.”

I squinted at the line of color marching down the page–there were at least eleven different color names, but it was almost impossible to differentiate between them.

Polly stabbed her finger in the middle of the page. “I like that one.”

“Misted Mountain Dew Drop?” I asked.

Michael nodded. “That’s a lovely example of a vaporous blue.”

I squinted at the color again. “It looks more like a grayish-green to me.”

“Right.” He nodded enthusiastically. “Vaporous blue.” He glanced up at me expectantly. “So you’d like to go with Misted Mountain Dew Drop?”


“Wonderful. Why don’t we pick out a complementary white?”

Yes. Why don’t we? Or I could just find a rusty railroad stake to drive through my temple instead. There’s a pop of color for you. Though I was pretty sure blood-red and brain matter gray weren’t Hygge-approved colors.

Polly studied the page of white paint swatches Mim headed her. For fuck’s sake. There had to be forty-seven different shades of white on that.

Michael leaned forward in his chair and peered at the sheet along with Polly. “I really like Snowbound, First Star of Winter, Windfresh White, Linen Sheets, and White Pepper. What do you think, Leia?”

I stared at him blankly for a moment, and then Polly elbowed me. Hard. “They’re all fine,” I murmured. I just wanted this to be over. “Whatever you want, Pol.”

“What I want is for you to take an interest in this.”

“Fine. White Pepper. And surely there’s a Moldy Mushroom Gray to go along with it, right Michael?”

He tilted his head to the side then looked at Mim. “I’m thinking Drizzle.”

“Or Grave Dust,” she countered.

“I like the sound of that.” I looked at Polly. “White Pepper and Grave Dust it is. There. I took an interest.”

Her cheeks flushed red with her anger. I thought about pointing out that she wasn’t embodying the Hygge way, but I thought better of it.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

I stifled a sigh. I trust you to pick something nice.”

“How can’t you say that?”

“Um…because I trust you, and I literally don’t give a fuck as long as I don’t have to paint it.”

She snarled in frustration, crumpling the paint brochure, but Michael leaned over and plucked it from her hands. “You give so many fucks they’re visible from space!”

“I do. But not about paint!”

That’s it for me, today. Be sure to check out what the other bloggers’ did with the prompt by clicking on their names.

Jess * Siobhan * Kris * Gwen

This month in the First Time feature, we’ve got first argument. So, I picked Will and Ivy, from In Bounds aka The Sportsball Book.

The screaming sound of an air horn woke Ivy from a dead sleep, and she pushed up on her elbow, searching for the asshole making the noise. Squinting, in the bright morning light, she saw Will in the chair near her bed, eyes closed and head tilted awkwardly to the side in sleep, oblivious to his phone pulsing angrily on the little table between them. She grabbed the device and tried to figure out how to silence the stupid thing. She slid her finger across the screen, and the sound ceased, leaving an almost ringing silence in her ears.

As she shifted the phone in her hand to return it to the bedside table, her thumb bumped the text icon, and a message from someone named Peyton popped up. It was a photo of what looked like a riding crop on a white bedspread and the message, Wanna play? in the text bubble beneath. Her mouth dropped open, and an involuntary gasp escaped—equal parts rage and arousal. She glanced up to find Will watching her with sleepy-looking green eyes.

She threw off the suddenly too-warm covers and sat up. “Are you fucking serious with this?” she demanded.

“You’ll have to be a bit more specific, love. I’m not sure I’m quite awake, yet.”

She turned his phone to face him. “How fucking dare you proposition me when you have a girlfriend? And how fucking dare you try to screw around on her behind her back?!” She pushed to her feet and tossed his phone at him. “I didn’t think you were that much of an asshole. Clearly, I’m a terrible judge of character. And to think…”

“And to think what?” he demanded, looking far more awake than he had moments earlier.

She shook her head and stalked to the bathroom and slammed the door. “Never mind.” 

After she brushed her teeth and splashed cold water on her face, Ivy stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her face looked hideous—blotchy blue and purple, but no real swelling, thank goodness. It seemed all the ice packs had helped. But as she studied her image, she was more concerned about the tears burning her eyes.

She couldn’t believe Will would be shitty enough to cheat on his girlfriend. Though, why that thought was so hard to swallow, she had no idea. Daniel certainly hadn’t had any trouble fucking around on her, and they’d been married. She sighed. If she were being honest with herself, she’d wanted to believe the man who’d taken such tender care of her and who’d seemed attracted to her was genuine. Instead, he was just another asshole. She knew there were good guys out there, but Will obviously wasn’t one of them. And the sooner she came to terms with that, the better off she’d be.

Unfortunately, now, all she could do was imagine his hand wrapped around the handle of the crop as he brought it down on a bare ass. And since she had no clue what Peyton looked like, it was all too easy to imagine herself in that position. For fuck’s sake, she needed to get a grip.

Yanking open the bathroom door, she stopped dead, fingers clenched on the knob. Will blocked her way, his palms braced against the doorframe.

She forced herself to lift her head and meet his gaze. “I get that you’re down to fuck anything that moves, but I’m not interested.”


They glared at each other, until she couldn’t stand the silence anymore. “Move.”

“Just as soon as you hear what I have to say.”

“If you’re going to tell me that she’s one of those sportsball cleat chasers, save it.”

“I assume you mean football and WAG wannabes.”

Her fist tightened on the door handle. “Whatever.”

“And Peyton? A WAG wannabe?” He snorted. “Hardly.” His smile faded, and he held Ivy motionless with his hooded gaze. “Also, she’s not my girlfriend.”

Ivy didn’t say anything.

“She’s my friend,” he continued. “Has been since uni. And yes, when neither of us are seeing other people, we sometimes have sex.” He tilted his head to the side, slightly, his gaze boring into hers. “We both have…similar interests.”

There was that mental image of him using a crop on her own willing ass again. Her gaze drifted to his hands, and she couldn’t help but wonder if he ever covered Peyton’s mouth when she came. A tiny shiver worked through her, and once again, she forced herself to meet his eyes.

“So, no,” he bit out. “When I’m with someone, I don’t sleep around, and I wouldn’t—not even for you.”

Not even for her? What the hell was that supposed to mean?

“I realize that your knob of an ex didn’t offer you that same courtesy, so I’ll cut you some slack for jumping to that conclusion about me.”

Her cheeks flushed with heat.

“I don’t blame you for being angry with him—just do me a favor and don’t take it out on me, okay?”

She took a deep breath, blinking back the stupid tears that burned her eyes. She didn’t think she had any tears left for Daniel. She wasn’t even sure they were for him. At this point, she might just be feeling sorry for herself. “You’re right—I made some pretty big assumptions. I’m sorry.”

Will’s expression softened. “I get it. I do. When your trust is broken that badly, it’s easy to think everyone sucks.”

Unable to hold his gaze any longer, she glanced away. “And I’m sorry I looked at something that was private. It wasn’t intentional, but it’s still unacceptable.”

From the corner of her eye, she saw his shoulder lift. “It happens. Just so we’re both clear here, I’m about to be very direct.” He paused, waiting until she looked at him. “I’m just as attracted to you as I was twelve years ago.” He shook his head, a rueful grin lifting his lips. “No. More. Much more. So, if the feeling is mutual, and you’re looking to fuck your ex out of your system, I’m available.”

Eden Books * Amazon * B&N * iBooks * Kobo * Audible

Be sure to check out the other bloggers’ first arguments by clicking on their names.

Jess * Kris * Kayleigh * Siobhan * Gwen

This is a continuation of a story that started here.

The farther Persephone walked, the darker the sky became. No longer the fierce blue of an autumn afternoon, storm clouds swirled above and the mist rose from the ground as the air rapidly cooled while rain pelted her, stinging her skin beneath her cloak.. It seemed her mother was having another one of her tantrums, and no act of independence would go unpunished.

So be it.

The field gave way to a few straggling trees, and the trees gave way to a sheltering forest. Icy wind whipped through the branches, clutching at her cloak and chilling her to the bone. The further into the woods she walked, the faster the leaves curled and dried, rubbing harshly together as the wind blew mercilessly.

She had no idea where she was going–she’d never been this far from her mother’s garden before. She simply let her feet carry her down the wide dirt path, knowing that there was something waiting for her. Something or someone calling to her. She felt it in the thrum of her blood pounding through her veins and pulsing against her skin. She felt it in the restlessness of her limbs and the buried ache deep in her core. She felt it in the tautness of her nipples and the brush of her thighs as she walked. What had started out as discomfort, quickly became agony.

The needle-like rain, pelting through her clothing only intensified that ache. And when rain gave way to sleet, she was surprised that steam hadn’t risen from her body the way it had from the forest floor. But she kept moving, knowing that sooner or later, she’d find what she was looking for, what her body had been promising her.

As she rounded a bend in the trail, she saw him, standing in the middle of the path, waiting for her. Until now, she’d assumed he was nothing more than a myth–a product of her stifled upbringing and her overactive imagination. But he was real.

Her steps faltered slightly as she considered the implication. As every heated dream, every carnal impulse, slipped back into her thoughts, unbidden. She kept moving though, stopping only when she stood before him–almost close enough to touch.

“Does your mother know you’re here?”

Persephone shrugged. “Does it really matter to you if she does?”

A slight grin curved his firm lips as he watched her creep nearer. “Not particularly.”

That’s it for me, today. Click on the other bloggers’ names to read their stories.

Jess * Siobhan * Kris