Time just keeps floating away! And the more it floats on down the lazy river that is my life currently, the more I hope to get started on something soon. As you may have guessed, the #1lineWed prompt is **FLOAT**. This snippet is from an occastional WIP about two deputy sheriffs down in Cajun country–both of whom are Wolves. Beau and Luc tickle me pink so I should probably concentrate on getting their stories told. Thing is, their lives are so entertwined, I haven’t figured out how to split their book into two. Ah well. Enjoy this little peek into their world.
The two men stood back, attitude and posture both defensive. The little spitfire marched up and down the sidewalk, her long skirt swirling from the wind and her agitation. Sunflower Magnolia Bloomsbury had her mad on and they didn’t know whether to laugh or run. A gust of wind caught the bright-hued skirt, lifting the flower-imprinted fabric to float around her thighs.
Luc stiffened. His friend and partner, Beau, tilted his head to get a better look. At least until Luc jabbed him in the ribs with a sharp elbow.
“Can’t help myself, bro. Who knew that little thing had such long legs hidin’ under those weird skirts of hers.”
“Nobody’s getting up her skirts but me, asshole.”
Beau grinned so wide his dimples peeked out. “I figured. Now, what are we gonna do about this?” He gestured toward the still-fuming woman, who caught them watching. She marched up and halted in front of Luc. Even rocking up on her toes, as she was currently doing, put the five-foot nuthin’ woman’s eyes at about his chest.
“Are you going to tell me?”
He shook his head.
“Well, fine then. Keep your little secrets. I don’t care.” Sunny crossed her arms under her breasts, drawing the eyes of both men to her suddenly upgraded cleavage.
“Not exactly little,” Luc mumbled.
“No, they certainly aren’t,” Beau muttered back, which earned him a punch in the ribs this time.
“Stop starin’. And that’s not what she’s talkin’ about.” Nope. She certainly wasn’t. She was talking about something totally different. And there was nothin’ little about any of it. When they shifted into their wolves, there was nothing small about them. And the fact they—and their kind—existed at all was a huge, honkin’ secret.
Sunny lives next door to Luc. He’s rather dour. (I love that word!) As you can probably tell, she’s not. Beau, on the other hand, wear’s Cajun print Hawaiian-style shirts, ie. alligators and Tabasco bottles intead of surfers and flowers. I think I’ll reopen that project and see if I get inspired today. In the meantime, writers, any “float” words to share? And readers, what’s floating your boat today?