11 July 2010

Sunday Snippets: Passages from SJ Willing's Free Fiction

Sorry I'm late with my monthly post. I was kidnapped by a man on a Harley yesterday and whisked off for a day in the sun. :)

If you haven't read SJ Willing's wealth of fantastic, funny, deliciously sexy FREE fiction, you're missing out! Check it out on his Coffee Time Romance forum.


“Really girls,” Wolf chastised them. “You shouldn’t be walking around naked while a man is watching you.”

“A man…?” Fox squeaked.

“…watching us?” Lynx chirped.

Both women dashed to the balcony and dangled over it, searching for their elusive voyeur.

“He’s in here, silly.”

Still excited the two girls turned around and began searching behind the curtains and in the cupboards.

“He’s standing right in front of you.” Wolf added, exasperated.

Fox and Lynx paused to look at Wolf.

“Oh!” Lynx said at last. “I think she means Lion.”

“Lion?” Fox stuttered. “He’s not a man, he’s married.”

“To Otter,” Lynx agreed.

“Damn,” Fox flumped down at the breakfast bar, disappointed.

“Damn, too” Lynx joined her.

Lion swallowed, glanced down at his perfectly athletic body, muscles to die for, and felt about as useful as a butt plug at a gay bar.

“Well, just keep your clothes on around here, okay. The poor fellow is already having fits by the looks of it.”

Lion felt himself blush as Wolf pointedly looked at the front of his pants.

“Don’t worry about that,” Fox stage whispered, “It’s only padding.”

~From Lethal Lion


She stilled as the sound of the temporary elevator started up. The wind began to rise too, thankfully. The cold desert nights were just way too hot for her recently, she was fairly stifling in this heat. She let the air move over her, becoming one with the flow, as Diamondback had taught her she could taste the storm within it.

“The wings of the wind,” he’d once told her. “The breath of Allah.”

Scorpion shivered, in spite of her flush. Diamondback had passed on over nine years ago yet, now and then, she could still feel him at her back.

Al Khayr arrived alone and Scorpion wondered that he couldn’t hear the pounding beat of her heart. The elevator came to a noisy stop and he stepped out, towards the middle of the construction where the floors were more completed and safer.

Even with her eyes closed she would have recognized him. His scent, heat, his very presence seemed to fill the world around him as she became acutely aware of everything he did. From his soft, steady breathing to the slow confident steps as he walked closer towards her.

In the middle of the floor he stopped, lifting his face to the wind as if tasting it with his thoughts.

“You’re here!”

Scorpion blinked, startled. He knew she was here? Her heart skipped and she shivered, recognizing the pleasure in his voice; understanding his excitement at finding her here with him. He turned on the spot looking for her, knowing she was present but unable to see.

“I have searched many years for you, Raging Scorpion. At last we get to meet.”

From Scorpion's Sting


Wolf was beginning to sweat. Well, could you blame her, being this close to ten of the hottest men in the world, all of them, she was almost certain, sporting hard-on’s that would make a decent stallion jealous.

On top of which, a few in-flight brandies had made the in-flight conversation skew to the, uh, rather risqué.

Well, risqué, maybe not. But hearing how Alfonso, step by step, seduced his latest conquest with no censorship at all, would make any red-blooded woman hot.

And she had a feeling they knew it too. After all they’d been flying now for nearly ten hours.

It was with a kind of relief when the pilot came out and made his way towards her. Obviously with some kind of report to give.

“Madam Wolf,” he spoke softly in a French accent that, if she’d been wearing panties, would have talked them off her in a moment flat. “Is bad news, yes. The vessel taking your team to the Antarctic has it a few problems, is likely to be delayed a few weeks.”

“Damn,” Wolf whispered back. “Weeks? How am I going to delay these guys for weeks?” She sighed then shook her head. “Okay, how long can you keep the jet flying before you need to land for fuel?”

He looked at her, surprised. “Did they not tell you, Madam. This is the special nuclear powered jet. She can fly for five years without stopping for fuel.”

“Really? Oh my gosh, how wonderful.” Wolf started to think fast. How could she use this to her advantage? “It has an autopilot, yes.”

“The most efficient in the world, Madam.”

“We might need to engage that then, and pretend that you’ve had some kind of accident and can’t land the plane.”

“It is already engaged, Madam, and it—“

The airplane suddenly flipped over and back again, bouncing around in a rather large airpocket. When it straightened out Wolf found herself upside down in one of the seats, in her usual, unfortunate position.

“Is it? Could it possibly be…?” One of the HUNKs asked.

“No, surely not. She looks so different.”

“I’ll bet you fifty thousand lira it is.”

“But, she looks so familiar and so, different.”

“Ah, let me try something.”

Wolf blushed bright red as gentle fingers toyed with her pubic hair and removed the sunglasses.

“Ah, magnifico, it is her.”

-- From A Lively Lark with CTR's Angels


“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Furball began, looking as if he was peering around her room trying to find the dozens of naked men falling over themselves to service her every whim. Not that the thought wasn’t tempting, but she wasn’t really that sort of girl.

“No, you’re not interrupting anything at all,” she reassured him. Except for a gadzillion dollar daydream about Italy.

“Good, good.” Furball replied. “Because I need a second agent urgently for a most dangerous mission. I wouldn’t ask you normally but I can’t send Shimmering Dragon in alone for this one, and you’re the only agent I have free at the moment. All the rest are involved in a highly covert mission at the YouTube offices.”

Shimmering Dragon? Furball’s personal assistant? The One Beneath the Supreme One on Top? It had to be a very weighty mission indeed if he was sending her to investigate. This could be a very important stepping point in her PIACT career. Suddenly the interruption was beginning to seem much less inconvenient than it had.

“Of course I’ll be able to help, sir. May I know the details of the mission?”

“Too risky to tell you anything but the basics online,” Furball shook his head. “Dragon will be there within the hour and she will brief you. Suffice to say we believe it involves the Secret Party Looking to Annihilate Terra, SPLAT that is, and you’ll be hopping on over to Florence to investigate. Can you be ready in an hour?”

Jaguar held her breath as giddy waves of euphoria washed through her. Florence, Italy. Yes! Yes! YES!

So what if it also involved the most evil, despicable, deadly and corrupt organization PIACT had ever encountered. Jaguar knew she’d get time to visit the Archbishop’s Palace, the Cloister of the Barefoot, wander around the Oricellari Gardens and marvel at the Cathedral of Santa Maria del Fiore. And then, once the mission was over, begin her tour from there ending up, finally, on the golden beaches of Capri.

“Jaguar? Jaguar? Are you okay?”

Realizing she’d been drifting in a daydream haze, and hoping she hadn’t been doing it for too long, she schooled her face into a perfectly neutral expression.

“No problem, sir.” She told him. “I’ll be packed and ready in an hour.” In less, if she had to.

“Very good,” Furball nodded. “Good luck to you both, then. And remember, the fate of the world depends on you.”

She waited until the chat window had shut down and she was certain the web cam was no longer pumping her image across the net before she leaped up, dancing towards her closet.

“I’m going to Florence, I’m going to meet an Italian. We’re going to be best of best buddies!” She sang a silly little song as she threw bikini’s, bikini wax, toothbrushes, sun tan lotion, camera’s, video camera’s, makeup, shoes, her electronic English to Italian translator, more makeup, some very skimpy panties and bras, her passport into a couple of suitcases.

Looking at the three matched sets of luggage the middle one was still empty, though she couldn’t figure out why. She thought about it as she sang again, lauding the delicious Italian who was going to fall in love with her forever in the beautifully romantic city.

Ah, clothes! Yes, she’d need some clothes! What a silly girl she was, but, oh, what a wonderful surprise!

By the time Dragon arrived she’d managed to drag all five cases of luggage—well, she really couldn’t fit all the clothes into just one—down six flights of stairs to the front hallway. And was waiting, as gracefully as one can when feeling in an excited tizzy, dressed in her Donna Karan sequined dress, her Jimmy Choo branded mirror slingbacks and her Rioni mini-on-the-go purse.

This was going to be the adventure of a lifetime, and she intended to live it.

“So, you want to take all this?”

Jaguar didn’t like the tone of Dragon’s voice as she looked at the small collection of luggage. Didn’t the woman realize just how much essential stuff she’d had to leave behind?

“These really are the essentials,” Jaguar insisted. “I simply can’t go on vaca—mission without them.”

--From Gentle Jaguar Enjoys the View


Then, of course, there's the fabulous through-story SJ wrote for DunVegas.

Thank you to every who has donated so far toward SJ's much needed medication. The donation link will remain on the Dunvegas page and here on the BtV blog for as long as SJ needs it.


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