A new week, a new month, a new Wednesday and timefor new words. And they are new. I just wrote them yesterday so they haven’t been edited. Please to ignore any goofs. Today’s #1lineWed prompt is **CELEBRATION**. Of course, I’m singing the Kool and the Gang song while typing this. Welcome to my ear worm. I’m not sure how much of a setup I can give you on today’s snippet without some massive spoilers. Suffice it to say that a brother was killed and while Wizard had previously invited Gen to come up to KC–and she did, sort of but…spoiler–he also suggested she cut her stay short and go home, giving his mandatory attendance at the “memorial service” as his excuse for ditching her. Only Gen isn’t put off that easily. So…this happens.
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Gen
I couldn’t just drive around Topeka looking for the local Nightriders clubhouse. I saw a police car parked at a convenience store and I considered pulling in to ask. Who better to know where the local outlaw biker gang was located, right? Except that was pretty stupid on my part. The club was holding a memorial service for a fallen brother, the emphasis on a rather than it being his brother, as I’d first thought. Once I understood the difference, I paid attention when Wizard explained all the reasons I should go home and forget about him.
On a wild hair, I did an internet search on my phone for Topeka Nightriders. I was astonished when I got hits, including a map. Wow. Deciding to give the map a try, I followed the route. Two blocks away, I came up on cars parked along both sides of the street. I drove past the building, rubbernecking the whole way. Two stories. Red brick. Historic warehouse surrounded by a tall chain-link fence. There appeared to be a parking lot along one side, plus a paved area between the street and the front of the building which currently hosted a crowded row of motorcycles. As near as I could discern, the property backed up to the Kansas River.
About a block further on, I found a spot Rascal would fit and parked. I got out and smoothed down my dark navy dress. Still smarting from the comments made by those women at Outlaws, I left my pearls at the hotel. A thin, gold chain highlighted the modest neckline of the dress. I wore the sensible navy pumps I’d packed for the office and a soft wool blend wrap in navy, rust, and beige. I almost went out to buy a black dress since this was a memorial but resisted. The navy was respectful enough.
Two men stood guard at the gate. Their gazes focused on me as I approached. I recognized the patches and relief washed over me. I’d found the right place.
“Hi,” I said before they could challenge me. “My name is Geneva. I’m looking for Wizard. Is he here yet?”
They exchanged a long look and one of them glanced over at the row of motorcycles. Evidently, he knew who belonged to which cycle because he nodded. “Yeah. He’s around back.”
“He know you were comin’?” the second asked.
How to answer that so they’d let me enter. “He told me he’d be here tonight. There was some question whether my meetings would wrap up in time.”
The gate swung open and I passed through.
“Keep walking that way,” the first man said, pointing. I knew he was trying hard not to laugh but I didn’t care. I could do this. And Wizard had seemed upset about losing his brother. With far more confidence in my step that I actually felt, I headed toward the grassy area behind the building. I could smell the river, along with wood smoke and beer. I turned the corner and stopped dead.
This wasn’t a funeral or a staid memorial service like I’d expected. This was a wild celebration, a drunken party much like the one I’d briefly attended over at the big compound.
“Oh my gawd!” A shrill voice cackled. “Look at her! What the hell is she doing here?”
Great. I recognized the gaggle of girls from last night. Just who I wanted to see. Not.
“What the hell, Pink?” Wizard did not look happy to see me.
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Poor Gen is so out of her depths in Wizard’s world. As she says, “I’m in human resources. What do I know about outlaw bikers?” She’s getting a crash course, believe me! Anyway, that’s today’s snippet and I hope you enjoyed the peek. Writers, any celebratory words to share? Readers, what’s your favorite party song? *dancess off singing “Celebrate good times. C’mon. There’s a party goin’ on right here.”* Woohoo! It’s a celebration. 😉
My mission, and unlike Mr. Phelps and/or Mr. Hunt*, I can’t choose to not accept, is to finish the line edits and revisions on my next Harlequin Desire by Friday. My wonderful editor hinted that I could probably have until Monday. Imma gonna need it! The line edits are pretty easy–track changes/accept/decline. It’s the comments (aka questions/suggestions) that show up in the margins. Yeah…it’s a case of “What was I thinking?!?! Oh, wait…I wasn’t.” And that’s my challenge. Of course, the Universe just had to butt in with this:
Silver James 