Saturday, November 15, 2008

A Little Taste Of Red - Beth Wylde

A Writers Vineyard Holiday Treat

He whispered softly into Tinsel's hair. "What if told you I could make you better without letting them take your leg?"

She gazed up at him, hiccupping from the intensity of her sobs. "How?"

His words were clipped and fast. "I need you to hear me out. No interruptions and no questions until I'm done, okay?"

"I'll try, but I don't feel so good."

He nodded. "Some of that is probably the drugs working their way out of your system. I'm sorry about that."

She sucked in a breath as he moved her out of his lap and sat down on the bed beside her. "I'm not. I couldn't stand the pain anymore, though everything after drinking that vile green concoction is a blur."

Lance stiffened, willing himself to relax, but it was too late. Tinsel noticed his reaction.

"Did something happen?"

He had no clue how to respond to her, so he lied. "You were just really out of it. No big deal." He paused a moment to fortify himself and pressed on before he lost his nerve. "There's a way to heal your leg. The cure works almost instantly, but there are side effects to it, rather serious ones, and I need you to understand what will happen if you agree to it."

Tinsel listened intensely. Her face was scrunched up in pain, but she was trying her best to hide it while Lance explained her options. "It's actually a virus that attacks the body's cells, changing them in a way that speeds healing. It also makes you stronger, more resilient to injury, and elevates all your other senses. You'd be more than human if you accept the cure."

He paused to allow Tinsel to speak, knowing their time was limited.

"Is it safe? You said it was a virus and you mentioned side effects, but everything so far has been positive. What aren't you telling me?"

Lance sighed, standing up and walking towards the closed door. "I don't know any easy way to tell you this. I'm not good with words." He started pacing back and forth at the foot of the bed. "You have to know by now I wouldn't hurt you." He stopped to grab the foot rail, gripping the wood so hard it creaked. "Please don't be afraid. I'm doing my best to stay away from you, but it isn't working."

Tinsel watched in awe as the man she'd come to think of as her savior began to hyperventilate. His chest rose and fell rapidly and his knuckles went white from his death grip on the railing. A fine sheet of sweat covered his chest and she watched in fascination as a drop of water rolled down his skin to disappear into the unfastened waistband of his jeans. She inadvertently licked her lips and Lance groaned. "God, you're killing me. I want..."

"What do you want?'

He swallowed hard. "You. I want you."

This has been an excerpt from A Little Taste Of Red
Author Beth Wylde writes in a variety of pairings and genres from contemporary to paranormal and from lesbian erotica to menage as well as straight m/f and everything else in between. She currently lives in the 'Wylde's' of Virginia and when she isn't writing she can normally still be found in front of a computer either updating, chatting or working on promo. She's been writing for as long as she can remember but only recently aspired to be published. Her first release was in April of 2006, so she's fairly new to the business, but her reviews have been top notch.
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