Glitter Girl Part Two

Dear Readers,

Wow! A year has come and gone and the Violet Femmes are stronger than ever. We’re quickly approaching our 10,000 views mark, so THANK YOU for your checking in with us weekly.

Some other statistics about the Violet Femmes:

Jaye’s blog When Disaster Strikes in November drew quite a bit of attention. Living through Super Storm Sandy (and still feeling the after affects), it’s no wonder our readers connected with Jaye’s heartfelt essay.

Readers enjoyed February’s Castle of Dreams, our first round robin story, so much so we decided to write another this month!

The Violet Femmes go global: Aside from our loyal followers in the United States, we’ve had viewers from Canada, England, Australia, France, Denmark, the Philippines, to name a few countries. Bien Venue!

Once again, thank you readers for tuning in and reading our blog. We invite you to end the year with us, and please come back and visit us in 2013.

***

This month, the Violet Femmes are writing our second round robin. This time, our story is a holiday themed romantic suspense, kicked off by Jenna Blue.

So the story flows for readers, I’ve provided a link to Jenna’s beginning”

Glitter Girl: Part 1

I hope you enjoy it!

Happy reading,

Violet Femme Michele

 

 

GLITTER GIRL:  PART TWO

Tessa tugged her faux fur lined coat tighter as the heat within her used canary-yellow Mini Cooper sputtered to life. The car wasn’t exactly Vermont worthy—she’d waited out the recent snow for the plows to thoroughly salt the hilly roadways—but the car fit her new persona perfectly. Hiding in plain sight; no one would suspect a quiet, conservative mouse to turn into this side-show spectacle of a woman. Heck, she barely recognized herself.

A biting chill filled the late afternoon air, the kind that made her want to curl up in front of a fire with a good book instead of heading into town for groceries . . . and new boots, if she could find a pair that fit. Besides, after what had transpired less than an hour ago, reading was the farthest thing from her mind.

Who could concentrate knowing that trouble, in the tall, muscular form of her neighbor, had her mind illuminated with all sorts of naughty thoughts? Lordy, Garth’s kisses made the toes within her pleather boots curl up in delight. She imagined running her bare foot along the warm skin of his leg, feeling the mountains and planes of his sexy body beneath her sole.

Tessa cranked up the heat and ignored the flush warming her cheeks. Such an intimate thought to be having about a man she’d only met a few weeks ago.  A man she knew so little about.

Surprising too, how one minute they’d been laughing and the next, he’d jerked away with a pained look, as if she’d landed a solid kick to his shin instead of mewing into his mouth moments earlier like a cat in heat. Perplexed, she’d heard his mumbled good-bye and watched as he headed home through the short expanse oak trees separating the properties.

It was probably for the best, his ending something that could never be.

The engine revved as she pressed down on the accelerator. She’d parked the car with its small hood facing the roadway—just in case the unthinkable happened and she needed to get away fast. Navigating out of the long, winding driveway shouldn’t pose a problem, though given her recent track record . . . Garth had dug her out of the ditch midway up the driveway twice already. With today’s Christmas lights debacle, he must think she’d lost a mental bulb or two.

She glanced toward her lone neighbor’s old Victorian. A light in a front room was on.  His designated writing room, she imagined, the sunniest room in the house, perfect for winter-time writing. Was Garth even thinking about her? Or had he moved on to more important matters, like finishing the novel he’d said he was working on?

With a shake of her head, she trained her eyes on the driveway. It would serve her right if her antics ended up in Garth’s book. Yet, little did the unsuspecting hunk know that the drama playing out in his new neighbor’s life could fill chapters.

A shiver ran up her spine, the kind that made the tiny hairs on her arms stand at attention. Raoul was no laughing matter. Though she’d never met the man, he was reputed as being cold, cruel, and calculating, seeking retribution for even the slightest betrayals.

The car fishtailed as if sensing her fear, and she fought to control its movements out of the driveway. Just as Tessa was fighting to survive—and biding her time until Raoul’s world crumbled down around him.

Soon, she hoped.

Because, as far as disloyalty went, the information on the small, thin thumb drive secured within the heel of her boot was the Mount Everest of all betrayals.

Opportunity knocked, and Garth would be a fool not to answer. He took a long sip of coffee before placing the Vermont mug on his desk, the whole while watching the yellow Mini Cooper’s taillights disappear around the curve in the driveway. Looked like she was getting outta Dodge. Just as he’d done an hour earlier, after the reaffirmation of exactly who he’d been tongue twisting with was.

He’d adjusted the last row of lights, giving her some lame excuse about getting back to work, before getting the hell outta there. He’d grown use to denying himself pleasure of any sort of intimacy—hell, given his career, there was little room for anything or anyone. So what was it about Teresa that had him contemplating more?

He shrugged off the idea. A bad one, given the situation.

Repeating his earlier footsteps, he quietly wove his way through the short expanse of oak trees. They would have provided enough dimness to conceal him, except the kaleidoscope of blinking lights reflecting off the snow lit the yard up like a disco floor. Sticking to the shadows was a necessary precaution. Though, he’d have more than enough warning of Teresa’s return. Hell, he’d likely have to dig the Mini Cooper out of the ditch midway up the driveway again.  Yet caution was his middle name. And with Teresa, he’d best take extra measures not to be caught with his pants down.

His lips curled upward at the thought.

Pulling the freshly minted key out of his pocket, he slid it into the lock on the back door and smoothly turned it. The door opened as anticipated. He stepped inside, closed the door, and paused, deeply breathing in the aroma of freshly baked sweet apple pie. His stomach rumbled as his eyes spied the clear, covered plate on the kitchen counter. A perfectly shaped pie—homemade too, judging by the pie plate it was in.

Garth moved around the kitchen, taking in the woven plaid dish towels and matching pot holders. Unexpected, like the pie. Teresa’s kitchen should be overrun with neon pinks and greens, over-the-top like Teresa herself. His brows furrowed in consideration.

Further proof that

A loud crash followed by a series of popping sounds interrupted his thoughts. Instinctively, Garth shifted against the wall near the door leading into the living room. His whole body stiffened, listening for the slightest creak in the wooden floorboards. Confirmation that the uninvited company he’d been expecting had arrived. Late, too.

He nudged the door open and scanned the room. Shattered Christmas ornaments littered the floor like colored iridescent rocks in a stream bed. From his vantage point, he spotted the toppled tree lying by the front window. Pieces of a nativity set sat precariously on the edge of a nearby table.

The house lay eerily quiet, like the moment after a catastrophic storm released everyone and everything from its mighty grip.

Garth tensed. His arm reached beneath his coat and around his back, his hand searching for the cool metal handle of the Glock nestled against his skin. Still, he listened.

“No no Tessa. Tessa no no,” a high-pitched voice trilled. “Bad girl.”

What the . . . ? Garth stepped into the room and drew to an abrupt halt.

“Uht-oh,” a small green bird perched on a lampshade by the toppled tree greeted him.

Garth lowered his weapon.

“Trouble,” the bird wearily parroted on, watchful of Garth’s movements as he cleared the room. No one was around, except him and the bird. Two days ago, when he’d searched the house, that lame excuse of a parrot hadn’t been here.

Tessa was full of surprises, it seemed.

He bounded up the stairs and did a quick search of the spare bedroom and the hall closet. Nothing. The natural light filtering in from the windows had dimmed, telling him it was time to go. He shook his head at the destruction the parrot had wrecked on her living room. The bird sat silently on the lampshade, eyeballing him warily.

“Trouble,” Garth muttered, firmly closing the back door and filling in the footprints he’d left in the snow as he made his way home. No denying that Tessa was a pretty package, one that made him feel things better left buried within. Perhaps another time, another place, another situation, he’d consider unwrapping her and exploring what lay disguised beneath the Christmas wrapping paper. But not today. Tessa was trouble, alright.

A shame he might have to kill her.

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10 Comments

  1. What the what?!! Not what I expected at the end. Nicely done!

    Reply
  2. Hi Joanna, glad you liked it! You thought he was a cop, or FBI agent, right? Nothing like twisting the plot a bit. 🙂 Michele

    Reply
  3. Jenna Blue

     /  December 9, 2012

    Oooooh, Michele! You took the suspense angle on this and ran away with it! A total surprise, especially the last line, and well done! Also loved all the Christmas flavor! : )
    Jenna

    Reply
  4. Hi Jenna, how fun is this story? You created some great characters, with enough loose ends to get creative with. Hope I’ve done the same for Jaye, although I’m dying to know what she’s going to do with the bird (if anything). 🙂 Michele

    Reply
  5. Great entry, Michele! You’ve given me some work to do. I have no idea where I’m going to take this at this point. 😉 It was a lot easier when I got to write the beginning of the story, lol.

    Ay yi yi! 🙂

    Jaye

    Reply
  6. Hi Jaye, I am really looking forward to seeing where you and the other Femmes take the story! So much fun! Michele

    Reply
  7. Nice continuation, Michele. I love it when the hero may have to kill the heroine-as long as he doesn’t!

    Reply
  8. Hi Maria, Kinda of like those darker hero types! Thanks for commenting. Michele

    Reply
  9. Nicole Doran

     /  December 17, 2012

    Okay, I’ve been remiss with you Femmes…and not visited much…but holy toledo…I love this story!! The hunk, the bird, the christmas lights, her hair?!?! Way to go girls. Now to comment on Jaye’s entry.
    Have a merry XMAS…Nicole 🙂

    Reply
  10. R.A. DeFranco

     /  December 17, 2012

    Michele great entry! Love how you amped up the intrigue. I especially love how you managed to use the heel of the pleather boot. There was a part of me that was hoping the boots would make an appearance in the second entry. Very creative! The last line is stellar.

    RoseAnn

    Reply

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