Projects in Progress

*peeks out and bats eyelashes flirtatiously*

Sigh…I know I’ve promised more stuff and I have been working, scout’s honor! In fact, I’m going to put up snippets from two projects I’m working on and hope to have out by early-mid June 2014!

(Just FYI, all rights are reserved. You do NOT have permission to post this elsewhere or do your interpretation or rip me off. These stories are products of my twisted imagination–don’t make me come after you with a DMCA notice!)

The first is a prequel to The Breeding Series that features Maggie and ‘The Man’. 🙂 Some of you emailed me asking what led up to that series, how he became the dark, brooding man, so the next series will feature his ‘first’ breedee, Lia. If you’ve read The Breeding Series, you know that Lia is the HBIC and she rules her household with an iron fist. Once upon a time, she was just an average young woman until she was taken by Gregory. Here’s a peek at her story:

I stepped inside of Quick Grocery with one mission in mind: make Mom the best damn cake she’d ever eaten.
Today was her birthday and when I saw her this morning, I had to double take. People always ask if you feel a year older in a joking way, but seeing her hunched over the stove, skittering across the floor like Grandma, I knew the answer. She felt like it–and she looked like she was fifty-five instead of forty-five.
And there wasn’t a damn thing funny about that.
She did so much for me, working double shifts to keep a roof over our head, going without so I never had to. Cooking was far from my forte, but with Duncan Hines’ help, I could make her something to show her how much she meant to me.
I snagged a basket and steered toward the aisles, scanning the signs for the baking section. I grabbed a small container of oil and threw a bag of chocolate chips inside with the other items. When my eyes glazed over the kaleidoscope of options, I saw a figure out the corner of my eye.
I tried to be smooth but when I stole a glance at the guy in front of the flour, we locked eyes. His eyes–I’d never seen anything so blue. Bright. Piercing. Eyes I could drown in.
I turned away, heat turning my pale, splotchy skin fire engine red. I mean, I had no chance with a guy like that, even if I felt something when he looked at me. Guys like him, muscular, sun tanned, with just enough danger around the edges to make them interesting, had no interest in girls like me. Not to mention the fact that I was barely nineteen and he had to be in his mid twenties. He was worldly and I…I’d never even been outside of this podunk town.
That didn’t change the fact that I wasn’t oblivious. I knew what it felt like to be watched. And he was watching me.
Maybe it was because I was freakishly tall. I’d inherited my height from Mom. She’d been gorgeous when she was my age, even doing modeling with her long, lithe limbs and petite features. I had about fifty pounds packed on my frame and my dad’s strong features along with stringy brown hair and mud colored eyes. Guys like him went for girls with curves that didn’t quit. Walking pin ups. Not girls in oversized tees and jean cutoffs who still hadn’t lost their baby fat.
Feeling worse about myself by the minute, I just threw a box in my basket and turned to go.
“What’s the occasion?”
His voice was deep and smoky, as rough and tumble as his exterior–and it made my heart lurch to my throat.
I turned slowly, thinking I’d see him talking to someone else and planning to play it off by acting like I’d forgotten an ingredient.
But he was right beside me, his eyes warm, a smile on kissable lips.
I swallowed the knot lodged in my throat. “T-The cake mix? It’s my mom’s birthday.”
“Is that right?” He answered, arching a dark eyebrow. “Today’s my birthday too.”
I gave him a shaky grin, blushing from the top of my head to my toes. “Happy birthday.”
“Thanks.” His eyes rippled over me, before settling back on my face. There was something rippling in the blue water, something…dark. I bit my lip, thinking he was probably noticing I wasn’t so great up close and regretted talking to me at all.
I felt a rash of indignation unfurling in the pit of my stomach and I perked my chin defiantly. Sure, I was no Cindy Crawford, but I wasn’t chopped liver either. And the more I looked at him, the older he seemed. What kind of creep talked to random young girls at the grocery store?
“Well, I’ve gotta go.”
I didn’t realize I wanted him to come after me until I was checking out and walking to my car, arms stuffed with groceries. It felt nice to be smiled at, even if it didn’t mean what I wanted it to mean. And there was no denying how cute he was.
Just drop it, Lia, I scolded myself. He’d never go for you. I balanced the bags on one hand and fished for my keys in my purse.
“Let me help you with that.”
I spun toward the man’s voice, surprise almost making me drop the eggs. He steadied me, his touch sending electricity through my veins. He gave me another half smile, sliding the bag in the back seat. He stood beside me, running a hand through his hair.
“T-Thanks,” I said, not feeling steady at all–especially when his warm musk wafted around me. I slid the final bags in and I swore when I bent over he checked me out. It made me linger a little longer than necessary.
When I stood back up, I opened my mouth to thank him again, but a strong odor invaded my nostrils. Before I could place it, thick arms encircled me and he pulled me against his chest. Panic erupted in me and I tried to wriggle, to fight, but he was too strong. The muscular physique I’d admired now rendered me completely and utterly helpless.
I opened my mouth to scream, but something covered my mouth and then that strange odor was in my nose.
In my throat.
Burning my eyes.
I felt woozy but I felt something else. Oh my god, it’s his cock! It came to life, pressing against my buttocks.
My last terrifying thought was that this was arousing him. Kidnapping me was getting him off.
What was he going to do to me?

****

The next was something I started after bingeing on emo-tastic stuff like “Somebody I Used to Know” by Gotye and “I Will Possess Your Heart” by Death Cab For Cutie. Both are really twisted if you really listen to the lyrics–and this story will be extraordinarily so :D:

Excerpt from Scarlett Nighte’s WIP E:

The moon hung pregnant and swollen in the sky as Jacob Wood sat behind the wheel of his sedan. He squeezed the column between his fingers, imagining it was something else. Something swan like, porcelain and frail. His knuckles bleached as he saw her. His Sophia, standing up on her tiptoes and wrapping her arms around someone else’s neck. Her ebony hair glittering like stars as they kissed.
Lingered.
“Don’t do it,” he told himself hoarsely, his heart clenching as he imagined what she was saying. Seductive banter. Bullshit about how great a night she had. He was willing to let her indiscretion slide, if she didn’t say the words that would seal both their fates.
He peered into the darkness, choking on memories as she pushed inside–and the man followed. All color drained from his face as he slumped in his chair. If anyone saw him, tucked at the side of the cul-de-sac where she lived, they wouldn’t suspect what he had planned.
Jacob had all-American good looks with an angular, handsome face and blonde hair with blue eyes to match. He hit the weights several times a week and had a lean, muscular body to show for it. He drove a midnight colored Honda Accord, the picture of respectability garnered from his respectable nine to five job as an account executive. When his friends found out another one bit the dust, they didn’t even bat an eye. He had a carousel of women, after all. Plenty that would gladly replace Sophia.
But after a string of sluts and ditzy blonds that bored him after he fucked them dry he now knew that what he had with his ex was different. Sophia was intelligent. Headstrong. His. She’d even said so herself. That she’d never love anyone the way she loved him. That life wasn’t worth living without love.
“Well,” Jacob said softly, killing his engine. “I’ll put that to the test.”

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About ascarlettnighte

When I'm not scribbling the twisted things that pop in my head, my nose is probably in a book. Unless my rear is in the air. Or my hands are tied behind my back...
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