Another Hump Day. Wednesday. And time for words. Over on Twitter, the theme for today’s #1lineWed is **Creative Insults.** I actually found a spot in the current WIP with that phrase. In a note to self. Gen, our intrepid heroine, is leaving town and she is thinking a lot of things about Wizard. My note says “Insert creative insults, string of curses.” I couldn’t think of any at the time and I was on a roll so I marked it and went on. I need to work on those. However, I’ve still not come up with anything appropriate so I’m just going for plain ol’ insults. Except it’s not really. This scene is the night after Gen arrives at the Nightrider compound. There’s a party. And Wiz left her in his room to follow when she was ready. And…here we go:
No, I didn’t get him but I’d seen the sincerity in his expression, felt the truth of his words as he spoke them. Okay. So I wasn’t some skanky biker babe. I was me. Geneva Pruitt. I could hold a wedding together, wear pink, and settle employee feuds with my eyes closed. I was worthy of a man as gorgeous as Wizard, though I still hadn’t learned his real name. He brushed me off every time I asked. Wizard was his road name, bestowed by the club and he insisted that’s the only name he needed.
If I stayed here, in his room, would he come looking for me? Or would he just party out there with the rest of them? I stood, checked my reflection in the mirror. Surprisingly, my hair had stayed in a tight braid and looked all right. I fussed a little with my makeup and added lipstick. Inhaling, I squared my shoulders. I could do this. Hadn’t I been thinking I was in a rut? Well, this was about as far down a rabbit hole as I could imagine. I marched out into Wizard’s room and resisted the urge to pack up my bags and skedaddle while no one was looking.
I made it all the way to the front doors. The glass almost vibrated from the noise. Flames now danced in a fire pit in the center of the space and people gyrated around them. I scanned the crowd, looking for Wizard but couldn’t find him. My hand rested on the door’s push bar but for the life of me, I couldn’t put enough pressure on the thing to open the door.
“You just gonna stand there all night?”
I jerked and whirled to face the woman who’d snuck up on me. She eyed me up and down, taking in my appearance. I returned the insult. She wore heavy motorcycle boots, faded jeans that fit her like a glove, a red long-sleeved T-shirt with a Harley emblem on the front and that ubiquitous leather vest I was becoming far too familiar with. Long dark hair framed her pretty face and her brown eyes crinkled at the corners.
“You must be Wizard’s civilian.”
Civilian? What did that even mean. Evidently, my confusion showed because the woman continued. “Civilian is just that. Regular people who aren’t in the life.”
“Ah. Then, yes. I am most definitely a civilian.”
“And a bit overwhelmed, yeah?” She grinned and winked. “C’mon. I’ll help you find Wiz.”
I’m not going to tell you which of the biker babes that was. You’ll have to read the book once I get it out. This is a peek into Gen’s head and sets up stuff for later. Anyway, who has some creative insults to share? If they’re really good, I might steal them for the book. 😉