I’ve seen the posts, visited many of them and finally, I am in a position where I actually have a WIP! Like many, it is taking over, ignoring my thoughtful planning and preparation and has become what it wanted to become. And I thought, why not share a little as I go?
This work is tentatively titled, The Enlightened Hand’s Chosen One. A mouthful if there ever was one 😀 It is meant to be a historical erotica (I guess I mean, aren’t labels the worst?!) I decided to start sharing from the beginning in the hopes that this might just get those editor juices flowing. I make no promises for grammar or that this scene will even make it to any final version. Now, before I lose my nerve:
Olivia lay back, nestled on a thick layer of hay. She lifted her hand and examined how the sun shone between her fingers. Lawrence would certainly get scolded for not fixing the hole in the barn’s roof, but his laziness was Olivia’s gain. With her gigantic hound, Bart snoring at her side and the sun shining on the both of them, she was absolutely content, warm and happy.“Olivia?” Her mother called for her from the entrance.As long as she stayed put and kept Bart from snoring too loudly Olivia would remain undetected. There was no way her mother would step foot in a place as unseemly.“Olivia Fosterson, I know you are in there, come out right now and get water for your bath.”Olivia slunk down even lower.“You are not a child, Olivia, stop acting like one. You are a grown woman who cannot spend her time smelling like dog and dirt.”“I do not smell like dog!” Olivia responded and then clamped a hand over her mouth. Dang her mother, she definitely knew how to get a rise out of her.Olivia could hear the smug undertone in her mother’s words. “We have guests for dinner and you will look your best. Do not make me find you again, or you will feel your father’s belt!”Olivia scoffed silently. If she ever felt her father’s belt it would be because she borrowed it to hold the pants she borrowed from Lawrence up. However, her mother seemed to believe her threat was sufficient enough as Olivia could hear her soft footsteps fading away.Bart whined and yipped like a puppy, startling himself awake. He blinked at her with big, brown, soulful eyes.“She gives me nightmares too,” Olivia said. Bart yawned.Someone chuckled, low and familiar. Lawrence crept out of the shadows. How long had he been there against the back wall? His clothes were well worn and meant for work. He’d rolled his sleeves up over his muscular forearms that were crossed over his chest. He smiled at her, his regular expression when looking in her direction. It wasn’t until a couple of years ago that her stomach flipped over at his smiles. Hired as her father’s apprentice, Lawrence was a staple in her life. When he wasn’t avoiding fixing roofs and learning the trade with her father, he was with her and she loved every moment they spent together.“Nothing gives Ollie nightmares,” Lawrence said to Bart.“Except your ruddy face,” Olivia said. She may have new feelings for the handsome man, but she had always teased him. That couldn’t change.His brown eyes were gentle. He reached down and with a soft hold he led Olivia up to her feet. That close she could see the golden flecks of color around the blacks of his eyes, like tiny sunbursts. “Are you sure it is in your nightmares when you see my face?”
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