
Wednesday and time for a word salad. I was right when I guessed the Thursday Threads prompt for last week. It was, indeed, *”Challenge accepted.”* Sadly, I did not win, place or show in the TT challenge, even though I accepted it. 😉 I also sort of broke my rules because I continued the original scene and added to it. I don’t feel bad because this is a future WIP so it makes sense to carry on, right? Yeah, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it. I’m just glad there are non-related words to the current WIP because…yeah…I don’t need no more stinkin’ edits/revisions! 😝 Anyway, let’s get to the words as there’s no real set up other than two “strangers” in a restaurant in Brighton Beach…
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Dima had watched the woman be seated. He’d seen her around, plying her trade along the boardwalk near the beach. He’d let her squirm for a time before sauntering over and sitting at her table. Were her words a threat or a warning? He did have plans for later, plans no one but Mikhail knew about. His next words shocked her.
“Challenge accepted.”
Eyes wide, she opened her mouth to speak. Didn’t. She had to wet her lips and swallow before any words came out.
“You can’t.”
He wrinkled his nose at the faint traces of ammonia wafting from her. She was afraid. Again, he had questions. Was it of him or for him? “I can do what I want.”
“No,” she insisted.
“Why not?”
She wet her lips again and ran her tongue over her top teeth. “Because I don’t want you to die.”
“I do not plan on dying tonight.”
“But you will.” She remained stubbornly insistent. “The signs are all there.”
“You said someone paid you to read the cards.”
Shaking her head, she took a nervous breath. “No. I said someone came to ask about you. I didn’t—don’t know you so I read the cards.”
“While this person was there?”
“No. After.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know her.”
A chill settled in his spine. “She is of no consequence.” And she wasn’t. Mikhail would ask Dima to settle that account in the future. Not tonight. His wolf stirred, interested. Tonight there was other prey, including her.
****
There it is. Writers, will you accept the challenge? Readers (and writers), would you want your Tarot cards read by a girl named Gypsy? In the meantime, quick update on the Irish Wolves. I’m currently on Chapter 31, so well over halfway, and standing at about 83K+ words. Upward and onward!




















