It’s another weekend, time to share a bit of LGBT related story alongside several lovely authors at Rainbow Snippets on Facebook. Please check them out for more six sentence tidbits. Here, I am relating an early, early scene from my hoarded “BloodMoon” series.
Watching the extra swish to her hips I slapped my laminated menu down hard enough to make the Formica sing. Nickolas acted oblivious to my discomfiture. Shrugging back shining locks he leaned into the table, a relaxed grin on his face. I supposed fawning and jealous females were commonplace as oxygen to a burgeoning rockstar.
Once we were alone I focused on how to continue. How could I make small talk with someone like Nickolas Gravan, his perfection so far beyond angelic as to be godlike?
Though trust me, it waxes and wanes in dramatic fashion, do you think there is too much hero worship going on here?