Orphan Black. If you're not watching this show, why aren't you? LOL I rave about Arrow and Bitten, but in all honesty, Orphan Black hits every single one of my hot spot kinks for television. The writers always throw something into the mix that catches me completely by surprise and seriously, with the amount of television I watch, that's hard to do. LOL
Truly, if you're looking for something awesome to sink your teeth into, find the first season and don't look back. The acting is top notch—any show that has a lead actress who can pull off no less than nine different roles, usually at least four to five simultaneously, is worth its weight in gold. And the supporting cast is stellar. Go. Find. Watch. You won't regret it.
Tonight's post is from On the Circuit, a short novella featuring dragons and bullfighting. Yes. Combined. LOL
Here's the tagline:
The popularity of breaking dragons on the rodeo trail lures Reggie Pitch to test her mettle as a bullfighter. She works her way up from green recruit and tries out for the big show with Dwight Merlyn as her trainer, which proves intimidating because not only is he attractive as hell, he's a third generation handler and his family breeds the rankest, meanest beasts on the circuit.
And the preview snippet…
Reggie finished putting the final touches on her greasepaint fighting face. Her design garnered raves from the female followers. She grinned and the long, exaggerated black and white smile looked appropriately menacing.
Too bad the dragons wouldn't give two shits.
She put the cap back on the jar of ebony paint and tossed her brush into the cleaning bin. The door burst open behind her and she angled around to see what moronic ass dated to barge in while she tried to get ready to face two tons of snarling beast.
Sam thumped across the floor, his booted feet clomping on the teakstone tiles. He grabbed up a bunch of her shirts—she really needed to do some laundry—and started stuffing them into a satchel.
He shot her a nasty look. "Come on. We're outta here." He shoved two pairs of leather pants into a new bag. "I'm off the ticket."
Reggie's eyebrows rose. "What the hell happened?" She could guess… Sam's riding skill didn't quite pass muster in the big leagues.
And the McCallisters didn't carry anyone. A rider pulled his weight and brought in paying fans, or they lost their spot. Sam also shirked his time in the stables. Mucking stalls didn't rate very high on his scale of fun things to do.
Shit. Reggie sank back down on the stool. She'd just earned her spot at the main event—with a little help from Dwight Merlyn when he said she'd never cut it.
She got back up and strode over to Sam. "I'm not leaving." She yanked a pair of boots out of his hands. "I just got moved up to the big show. No way am I walking away from that." She tossed her gear back on the floor.
Sam slapped his hands on his hips. "But you'll walk away from me?" His eyes narrowed. "Or did Dwight get a hold of you?" He sneered the words.
Reggie took a deep, calming breath. "Dwight put me through the paces, Sam, you know that." He'd watched most of her training sessions… like a damned hannock bird. "I proved my worth."
Sam moved in close, grabbing hold of her belt loops. "I'll bet you did." He hauled her forward, banded his arms around her, and slid his hands down to her ass. "How many times did you wrap your luscious legs around him, Reggie? Did you show him how well you ride the big dragon?" He squeezed her cheeks hard, grinding his groin into her hips.
She lifted her foot and stomped down hard on the top of his, sending him backwards.
He yowled with pain. "What the hell, Reggie?" He hopped around for a moment then shook his foot back and forth.
She jabbed a finger into his shoulder. "I don't ride dragons, Sam. I get between them and idiots like you when you get bucked off." She twisted around, needed some space between them… before she punched him in the mouth. "The fact you think I used my skill in bed to move up the ranks is insulting. I'm damned good at what I do." She paced the length of the small room. "But you've got one thing right. I'm definitely walking away from you." She jerked her head toward the open door. "Get out. Now." She whirled around, sickened by the sight of him.
Sam's strong fingers gripped her arm. "I don't think so, Reggie. I brought you here." His tone dropped to a menacing level. "I can take you away, too." He squeezed her bicep hard enough to make her wince.
Reggie drew her leg back and swung it forward, connecting with Sam's groin. He doubled over, letting her go.
She shoved him toward the exit. "Not fucking likely." Sam stumbled over her discarded boots, but she urged him along. "I'm staying. If you try to get in my way, I'll do more than kick your balls up to your throat." She gave him a smile, hoping to use her face paint to full effect. "I've been watching the wranglers, Sam. I've learned a thing or two about castration." She put her palm against his chest and pushed him across the threshold. "Don't even think about coming back here." The door slamming in his face gave her a victorious thrill.
For about five seconds. Then the butterbees started. Less than fifteen minutes to show time and her blood pressure soared through the roof. The beasts would sense her anger and she'd be useless in the arena.
Damn Sam Nordstrom. No, damn Reggie Pitch. She didn't have to take the bait and then get pissed off. Her booted feet paced the floor and she tried to shake off the rage and fury still rolling through her. A deep breath in, then exhale slowly. Again. And again. And again. Her shoulders relaxed and she inhaled, filling her lungs to capacity, holding the air in until it burned.
The jangle of spurs on teakstone had her sputtering, ready to let loose with a right hook to Sam's face. Her arm drew back and she spun around, her gaze colliding with Dwight's instead.
He propped a broad shoulder on the door jamb. "That was quite a show, Reg. I'm thinking we oughtta sell tickets next time."
Dwight might just have to make a move if Sam's really out of the picture. Stay tuned to find out.
That's it for this week.