Sunday Snippet: Kings of Chaos

December 9, 2018

Ugh. The saying when it rains it pours definitely applied to me this week. All three of our vehicles ended up needing something crucial and important RFN. Luckily, one of our local car dealers is a friend and he let us borrow a car. Yes, I said borrow. Saving the expense of renting a car helped a lot! Then… I ended up with a nasty cold. The kind where I literally couldn't be more than an arm's length away from a box of tissues because my nose wouldn't stop running, my eyes wouldn't stop watering, and I coughed and / or sneezed every few minutes. Thankfully, I’m at the stage where my voice is gone and my throat is a little scratchy, but otherwise, I'm tissue-free. Whew!

I'm so behind on my regular television shows. Arrow is probably my favorite and I'm at least two episodes behind. I'm hoping to catch up this weekend.

I did get to watch Penny Dreadful and I'm one episode away from the end of the first season. I kind of like the jagged direction this show takes sometimes.

Wynonna Earp continues to be a favorite. The "Undo It" episode ended up being way better than I expected. This show is so good.

Watched another episode of The Dresden Files and I think I'm close to being at the end of the one season we got. So much promise for this show.

Started a new season of Underbelly: Razor. 1920s Australia is a great setting.

And that's pretty much it for television this week. Between dealing with all the car drama and the cold symptoms, my brain took a vacation. LOL

Tonight's post is from Kings of Chaos, a novella that started with a writing community prompt of setting a story around a motorcycle club with a charity ride gone wrong. I loved the idea and put a bit of a supernatural spin on my tale.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Ainslee and Witt are stranded during a charity ride for their local children's organization. Foul play is involved and they have to determine which rival club member has the most to gain or if someone closer to home is the culprit. Either way the warlocks versus wizards mindset is supposed to be null and void when a truce is underway.

And a preview snippet…

Ainslee Rix gathered up her change of clothes and stuffed them into her messenger bag. "Almost ready." She exited the room she considered to be her home away from home and entered the main clubhouse for the Kings of Chaos.

Belonging to the motorcycle club saved her life and she couldn't wait to get on the road for the charity ride.

Dropping her bag by the bar, she pulled out a stool. "Mona, did you make those poultices we talked about?" Glancing out at the gathered members, more than a few were walking wounded.

Stupid Dirty Bastards. A rival club, the Bastards never failed to find a reason to throw down with the Kings. The group of wizards didn't need a solid beef, only a perceived motivation to wreak havoc with the warlocks that made up the Kings roster.

Mona Dansbury, a dowager old lady, nodded. "Yeah. From the looks of half the crew, you'll need them." She reached under the bar and brought out a large pouch. "Tiny and Tucker bore the brunt of the beat down last night. They're staying behind today." Handing the cache of healing remedies over, she poured a beer for Tucker when he approached.

Man, he looked like he'd been hit by a truck.

Tucker eased up onto a stool. "Ladies." He winced, putting a hand to his side.

Ainslee laid a palm over his ribs and whispered an incantation. Healing energy poured outward, easing the deep-seated ache.

Tucker nodded. "Thanks, Ainslee. I'm good. Save that energy for the ride." The implied meaning she'd need it.

Ainslee frowned. "We expecting trouble?" Okay, when weren't they?

But charity rides always involved a truce. No beefs, lame-ass shenanigans, or dickholery allowed.

Strong arms wrapped around her. "No more than usual, but we're popping Hot Dog's cherry as a fully established member so there's that." Fingers tilted her chin up for a quick hard kiss.

Witt Ferguson also known as her better half and the club's vice president nodded toward the new, fresh off the prospect list Harvey Derringer.

Hot Dog whipped around, showing off the new patch on his cut. "Prospect" had been replaced with the chapter location. Harvey wiggled his ass then slapped his left butt cheek.

He waggled his eyebrows. "One hundred percent KoC now, bitches."

Ainslee rolled her eyes. "Sure you are." She slid off the barstool and grabbed the poultices. "Decide what you're gonna do to earn around here, Hot Dog?" Every member pulled their weight to add to the Kings's coffers.

Harvey smirked. "Aw, c'mon, Ainslee. Can't you guess?" He mimicked having sex by pumping his hips back and forth and grunting.

Ainslee bit back a laugh. "Geez, Hot Dog, you'll never be in the black if that's what you plan to do." Gigolo material? Not likely.

He huffed out a breath. "Ha. My dick's a lethal weapon, Ains. Didn't you know?" His hands bracketed his crotch.

Ainslee snorted. "Right, if there's anything lethal about your wang, it's called an STD." Tucker nearly fell off his stool after spraying the front of the bar with his beer.

Hot Dog made a show of stabbing himself in the heart with an imaginary blade. "Your razor tongue cuts deep but you and I know how much you want what I'm packing." He cupped his cock through his pants.

Witt growled and stepped forward, crossing his arms over his chest.

Uh-oh. New member crossed a line. Better diffuse the situation before it got out of hand.

Ainslee leaned in, speaking in a low voice. "He's got new guy smell on him, Witt. Cut him a break." She turned her attention to Harvey and shook her head. "Hot Dog, you get one freebie. Consider it used." The next time he pushed the boundary of respect Witt would put a pox on Harvey's genitals and strip him of member status.

Contrite, Hot Dog bowed his head. "I'm sorry. There's no excuse." He glanced up and met Witt's gaze. "I'm pledging twenty percent of my first year's earnings to the club as restitution."

Well, damn. A little over the top, but warranted under the circumstances.

Witt gave a terse nod. "We'll accept that on top of the ten you're already in for." His eyebrow quirked, daring Harvey to argue.

Holy shit. Thirty percent of everything Hot Dog brought in would go to the club. A harsh punishment.

Hot Dog lifted his chin, acknowledging the stake. Before his big mouth got him in deeper, he turned and headed for the pool tables.

Ainslee shot Witt a sideways glance. "That's cutting him a break?"

Witt lifted a shoulder. "His dick's still attached. That's cutting him a break." He met her gaze. "I finally get why you think he's a pain in the ass. His mouth is gonna lead him down some dark paths if he's not careful." Grasping her hips, he tugged her closer. "You're mine, Ainslee. He needed the reminder."

Her lips curved. "As if there's any doubt." No comparison between the two men.

At least not for her. Both had sex appeal with hard, fit bodies and bulging muscles. But Witt belonged to her from the moment she laid eyes on him. And he'd staked a claim on her heart and body from their first wild night together five years ago. She'd never looked anywhere else and didn't plan to start… ever.

The old man entered the bar and planted his hands on his hips. "What the hell is everyone still doing inside? It's time to mount up."

The room cleared in less than two minutes. When Wyatt Ferguson spoke, everyone listened. One of the perks of being president.

Witt put a hand on her ass when they exited the clubhouse. "Let's ride, Ains."

Hell, yeah.

I love where this story ended up going. Ainslee and Witt are a solid couple and the conflicts they face add extra layers.

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye