So, Iffy is all over the place these days–except the one place she’s supposed to be. I keep telling myself words are words even if they don’t actually fit into anything current or on the near horizon. Still, words are words. If I keep repeating that, maybe I’ll believe it. Anyway, last week’s #ThursdayThreads prompt was: “A spark is all it takes.” I suppose I should feel happy that Iffy didn’t try to burn something down with that for inspiration. Nope, instead, she went right to the Nightriders. I can’t give you much of a set up other than it’s a bar and the POV character is a fish out of water. Have fun! (I did while writing it, so it’s all good, yeah?)
Reba stared at her best friend, who reached over and and tapped her chin with one long-nailed finger. She shuddered, the blood-red polish making those nails look far more lethal than they should.
“Close your mouth, hon. You don’t want to be swallowing any flies.”
“Are you serious right now?” Reba winced when her voice rose to a squeaky, slightly hysterical level.
“You can’t do this.” She paused, then added, “Whatever this is.””
Glory smirked. “I can and I will.”
Taking the time to survey the bar, Reba sighed. “They’re bikers, Glory.”
“And that makes whatever you’re planning a really bad idea.”
“Just because it’s a bad idea doesn’t mean it won’t be a good time.” Glory winked and grinned, also surveying the place.
“Bikers,” Reba repeated. “Big, scary bikers who are all wearing one percent patches.”
Glory lifted one shoulder in a negligent shrug as she picked out her mark and dazzled him with her best flirtatious smile. “So?” Then her brows scrunched together. “What does that even mean?”
“What does what mean?”
“One percent patches. That’s important?”
“D’uh. It means they’re criminals, Glory. These guys are all outlaw bikers. If you start something, they’ll finish it.”
“How do you even know this stuff?”
She was not about to admit to learning about MCs from romance novels. “I read, Glory.” She held up her index finger to stop her friend’s retort. “And more than books. I read and watch the news. And documentaries.”
Rolling her eyes, Glory gave her a sly look. “I’m just going to light a little fire and you know what my daddy says.” She winked coquettishly. “I’m a spark plug and a spark is all it takes.”
Waving her arms, Reba intoned, “Danger, Will Robinson. Danger.” It was a pretty good impression, even if she did sayso herself.
Glory flashed her an annoyed look. “Do you have to wear your geekiness on your sleeve, Reeb? Jeez. Sometimes I forget why we’re even friends.”
Her friend’s comment stung but it wasn’t the first time Glory had belittled her. Yes, they were polar opposites but she’d been pulling the other woman’s butt out of the fire since kindergarten.
Reba tried one last time. “Please don’t do whatever you’re planning.”
Huffing out a disdainful snort, Glory stepped down from her barstool. “Here, hold my beer.”
And, yeah, Reba could admit those were famous last words.
There you have it. Unknown characters, in an unknown bar full of Nightriders. What can possibly go wrong? 🤣 In more hopeful news, I finished a chapter in CROSSFIRE yesterday and made notes for the next chapter for today. Yay! Writers, I hope the prompt will spark some creative words for you. Readers, what sparks your imagination?
The garden and mountains
If I can sit in the garden and stare at the mountains, I’m good. 😉