Hello, everybody!
I can't believe how much time has gone by since I last posted on this blog. It's been a very busy couple of months what with wedding preparations (we finally booked the restaurant for the reception) and edits (I completed a new short story--teaser coming soon).
In my last post, I shared a short song with you called Seas of Black and Blue. This song will appear in a short story I'm struggling to finish wrapping up called Seven Sins!
Since I haven't had time to post much recently I'd like to share a scene from Seven Sins with you. It is a prequel to the novel Serving Time.
Temporary blurb: It's graduation day at Spaceflight Academy, and Tristan Cross is now a fully-licensed interplanetary pilot. This calls for the mother of all celebrations, and the new pilots swarm to The Arena, the largest club in all Barcelona. With a whole night of drinking, clubbing, and--hopefully--getting lucky ahead of them, Tristan and his brother Eneld look forward to the fun. However, when Tristan accidentally swallows a Seven Sins pill, their night takes a sharp turn for the weird.
Disclaimer: the material presented here is still under construction (edits).
Another disclaimer: bad language and adult topics.
I hope you enjoy!
SEVEN SINS
Tristan weaved
his way through the crowd. He bumped into someone, muttered an apology, and
kept going. Stupid Ennie with his stupid
remarks. Always leave it to Eneld to make his mood go sour. His stomach
gurgled and he lost track of where he was going. Shit. Maybe mixing beer and cheap vodka also had something to do
with things going sour… I told them not
to give me garrafón… He stopped
dead in his tracks, just concentrating on keeping balance while the music and
the people pushed him from side to side.
Ohhh…crap.
“Stan! You’re
not looking so good.” Xavi grabbed him and jostled him.
Tristan almost
puked. He shoved Xavi. “You trying to make me sick or what?”
“Told you not to
mix.”
Tristan groaned
and leaned against Xavi. “I can’t waste my night like this…”
“Then come with
me,” Xavi said, leading him into the bathroom. He took out a baggie full of
multicolored pills and sifted through them.
“You told me you
stopped pushing that shit.” Tristan glanced around. The other guys in the
bathroom were minding their own business, coming and leaving as quickly as
possible.
“Calm down. I
got one of those over-the-counter gag-reducers in here. You should see Greg now.
One of these babies and he’s back at the bar giving his liver a good kick.”
Tristan relaxed
a little and leaned against the sink. His stomach rolled over itself. “And you
keep your meds all jumbled up in the same bag?”
“Be quiet and
take this.” Xavi handed him a white diamond-shaped pill. Tristan pinched it
between two fingers and examined it. One side had a number seven stamped onto
it.
“Keep it under
your tongue. It’s a bit bitter but it dissolves in no time. Hey.” Xavi
chuckled. “I got an idea. If you want a laugh, I have something we can slip En—”
“No.” Tristan
glared at him. “Lay off him.”
Xavi raised his
hands. “Okay, okay.”
He put the pill
under his tongue and waited.
“It’ll
neutralize the garrafón soon. Can you
feel it working?”
Tha-thump. The bathroom
walls shook.
Tristan’s breath
hitched. He clutched his chest. Oh, shit.
Tha-thump. Tha-thump. His heart pounded against his
ribs. A tingling sensation spread from his groin to the pit of his stomach.
“Xavi…?” Tristan
panted for breath. Heavy, wet, soggy… So soggy… Sweat tickled his forehead. He
wiped it away. “Is it supposed to feel like this?”
“Like what?” Xavi
checked the baggie again and went white. “Oh, fuck.”
Tristan grimaced. “Fuck what?”
“Nothing. Uh…” He
rummaged through all the pills, his face contorting into terror. He pulled out
a few and counted them. “How are you feeling?”
“Like shit.” The
colors around him faded to tones of gray. The edges of his vision fuzzed out.
Every now and them, a dash of color burst in front of him like fireworks. He stumbled
back against the wall. The pounding of his heart made his breath come in short
gasps.
“You need to spit
that out.” Xavi grabbed Tristan’s chin and stuck his fingers in his mouth.
Tristan gagged
and shoved him. “It already dissolved!”
“Shit.”
“What the fuck’s
going on?” Tristan turned his hands over. They trembled. His knees went weak.
Heat rose in him. So hot… He needed to…
Xavi hesitated,
clutching the bag in both hands. “I think… I gave you the wrong one.”
“The wrong one?”
Tristan grabbed Xavi by the front of his shirt, lifting him to his toes. “You
idiot!” he growled in Xavi’s face.
“We can fix
this! Lemme go!” Xavi squirmed.
“I’m going to…” Tristan’s
chest heaved. “I’m… I’m…” His heartbeat went from pounding to drilling. He
pulled Xavi against his chest and breathed in his cologne, his warmth, his
growing panic. “I’m…so fucking horny.”
