It snowed here (where I live) and it was nice to not have to drive in it. I get so anxious driving in snow. Instead I cozied up in my Ooodie and worked on Tristan 3. I'm listening to a nice webinar this morning with Gregg Braden and Lynne McTaggart about thoughts and words and the impact of them. It's groovy. Did you know we think up to 80K thoughts in 24 hours? That's wild! Oh and one more thing, the nuns in Tibet are documented as living up to 130 years. I am amazed. They must be wizards.
Writing is a touch slower these days because my muse is still wrapped up in Dragon Tamer. I'm finding it hard to pause these characters. I still have more to write about them.
I'm a strange author. I write entirely on a feeling. A vibe. I don't "pants" and I don't "outline" as are the common terms. I feel and write. I'm an Intuitive Writer. Everything is there when I can feel it. At least most of it and then I just tweak the details as they come.
I've noticed that my style leads to most of my sentences having to depend on the ones before and after for them to make sense, which is why it's hard for me to pick quotes for promos. Ergo, having this blog is handy so I can show you excerpts. Excerpts work better for my writing style.
This next scene is one of my favourites. I laugh because I've spent so much time writing and musing this mystical new world ... just to take Charlie out of his cool Dragon Tamer's garb and put him in jeans and a leather jacket! It's totally hot though!
Setting the Scene:
This takes places nearing the end of their "High School Years" and so lots has happened between that last chapter I posted and this. You don't have to have read those scenes to enjoy this though. Savage Ash is the band Jude's best friend, Preston, started. He wants to bring Heavy Metal to the old school magical realm. Brianna is another of Jude's best friends.
Wells Rycroft has joined us by this point. I'll be introducing him soon! Just waiting on the art for him which is in the works.
Westleys say things like "me darling" and "me love". Those are not typos ;) Enjoy!
"Charlie in Jeans Scene"
Copyrighted Material 2021
In May, Savage Ash gets their first gig outside Ravyndell but it’s in an ungifted folk establishment just outside Bonny Blackridge. “It’s a coffee shop,” Preston explained, “but they have live music Friday nights. Todd found us the gig.”
Todd, the third eldest of the Westley brothers, is friends with the owner.
Jude was worried he wouldn’t get permission to go. His father’s been reluctant to allow him off the school grounds other than to go to the Westley’s or Prince manor with him. “I think we are as safe as we’re going to be,” his father said. “I need to … what’s the word you kids use? Chill. I need to chill a little.”
Jude rolled his eyes. “You also know that Mr. Westley will be there. You’re welcome to come too. Maybe you’ll find someone who catches your eye. It’ll be a coffee shop romance.”
Mads narrows his eyes. “I don’t need a teenage boy to orchestrate my love life and you don’t need your overbearing father looming in the darkness when you’re trying to have a good time with your friends.”
A swallow catches in Jude’s throat. “Maybe other teenagers feel that way, but I don’t Papa. I like having you around.”
Mads softens but doesn’t lose his severe demeanor. “That is kind, but I’ll sit this one out. Besides, I’m privy to some knowledge you are not. There will be enough pairs of watchful eyes.”
Jude doesn’t ask who, assuming it’s Preston’s eldest brother.
Father brushes the hair off Jude’s brow. “I don’t expect trouble but if there is, promise me you’ll use what I’ve taught you.”
Jude’s still hesitant to use magic but he’s gotten better at wielding and controlling his gift with his father’s help. Jude nods.
“All right then. No curfew Friday night. I’ll be waiting up at the manor for you.”
Jude’s shocked. No curfew? “Thank you, sir. You don’t have to wait up for me though.”
Mads laughs. “You act as though you think I’ll be able to sleep.”
Friday night, a caravan of teens makes their way to Wendell’s Coffee Shop just outside Bonny Blackridge, courtesy of the Westley’s van, Mr. Westley at the wheel. There’s room enough for Jude, Wells, Preston, Brianna, Roxanne, and Dash, plus their equipment. The rest of the band and some other friends who want to hear them play will meet them there.
It’s a large coffee shop with everything wood—the floors, the walls, tables, chairs, even the counters over by the till. There’s a stage at the far wall with more tables and chairs before it, and even a bit of room for dancing.
“Whoa, this is brilliant,” Jude says to Preston.
He’s beaming. He’s chopped his hair to his shoulders for the event and it’s brought back some of the bouncy wave that graces his red locks when it’s not heavily weighed down by the length. He wore his favorite pair of ripped blue jeans, a green t-shirt, and his maroon jacket over top. His left wrist is adorned with a brown leather cuff and an assortment of bracelets. Around his neck is a leather throng with the flat silver piece his father gave him strung in the center.
Brianna storms over.
“I’m not your groupie, Preston Westley. Carry your own bag,” she says, slamming said bag across his wide chest. Her curls swing with as much ferocity as she’s giving off. Her pretty pink skirt sways to a halt against her dark thighs.
Westleys have a way about them though, which Jude’s never noticed before until Charlie. They’re too bloody charming for their own good and use it to worm their way out of trouble.
“Babe,” he says, clasping her small wrist in his large hand before she can storm off. “C’mon. I didn’t mean to leave you with that. Of course, you’re not my groupie. I’m your groupie, me darling dear.”
He dazzles her with his knee-weakening Westley smile and Brianna’s gone. She tries to keep from smiling by biting her lip so it can’t get away from her but her bright eyes give her away. “All right. I guess I can forgive you, being excited as you are. I’ll get us some drinks.”
Preston kisses her and she prances off. “As if I’d ever think she was a groupie. That one would cut my nuts off.”
Jude laughs, but it’s true and it furthers the Westley stereotype that they like to pair with mates who shove a healthy dose of fear at them.
He acts as crew, helping the band set up, grabbing a table with Brianna and Wells while the band does their sound check. Many of the coffee shop’s patrons are ungifted. Someone ungifted can’t tell on sight alone but someone who is gifted can sense who is and who isn’t by the energy they carry.
When the lights turn down and Savage Ash strums their first note, Wells shocks Brianna—which is half the enjoyment for Wells—by tugging Brianna to her feet. “C’mon gorgeous, I know you want to ogle your man close enough to see the sweat bead off his Westley forehead.”
Brianna gives Jude an apologetic look—because she does—and he waves her on. Besides, Jude could join them if he wanted to, but he’d rather watch his friends enjoy themselves.
The second song begins, one Jude knows well from hearing Preston practice the acoustic version in the common room—Baby, You Gather My Heart Energy—and more people file onto the dance floor.
Jude considers getting up to join them but his skin prickles, all his arm hair stands at attention to the massive energy that’s entered the coffee shop to his left. His heart races and he’s lifted as if a large gust of wind has swept him upward—he knows that energy, knows it in his bones, but how?
He turns his head and he’s not prepared for what he sees. The full force of Charlie is there, but instead of his usual dragon tamer garb, he’s in faded blue jeans, a white t-shirt, and a black leather jacket with buckles—so many buckles. His long red Westley hair is tied into a low bun, bright against his fair complexion and a necklace with a flat silver piece, like Preston’s, hangs to his wide chest.
No one wears jeans like Charlie. They’re loose but they still wrap around his well-developed muscles enough to see the outline of his quadriceps and they hug his arse, highlighting its perfect peach shape.
He’s for me, Jude’s heart says.
Many eyes turn Charlie’s way, but Charlie’s cornflower blues focus on one person—Jude. Jude can’t breathe. Charlie’s dragon tamer boots are gone, exchanged for ones that look like they were meant for riding a motorbike: shorter, a low buckle and they conceal neatly under the hem of his jeans. They have a heavy thud to them when he walks that Jude can’t hear for the loud music, but he feels them pound against the wood floors in time with each step that brings him closer to Jude.
Charlie’s … here. “H-Hi,” Jude says when Charlie sits beside him, dwarfing the chair with his ogre’s body. “I assume you’re the extra eyes my father talked about?”
“Who else is qualified to keep you in line, Parker?” Charlie’s deep voice rumbles over the music, punctuated with a wink.
“I thought you couldn’t come till summer?” It’s a bit of an accusation. Someone should have tipped him off.
“I couldn’t but Preston was excited enough to write me an invitation and … he may have mentioned someone else might like to see me.”
Jude’s glad for the darkness, certain he’s blushing head to toe. “A bit, yeah.”
Charlie snatches Jude’s hand, pressing it between his rough palms. “Also, it’s possible another birdie wrote to me, emphasizing that while you may not be in danger exactly, having a dragon tamer nearby for this event wouldn’t hurt.”
“My father. Merlin. He should have just come rather than dragging you from Rosyth.”
“Once I heard my maiden might be in distress, I was able to work out some time off.”
“Charlie!” Jude whacks him with his free hand, his hawk-like brow set to blast.
Charlie laughs. “There’s my murderous Prince. I’m well aware you don’t need my protection. Will you humor a guy anyway? I came a long way.”
Jude won’t pretend he doesn’t love both his father and Charlie conspiring to keep him safe. He won’t miss an opportunity to flirt either. “Depends, what do I get out of the deal?”
“A dance partner.” Charlie removes his leather jacket and drags Jude onto the floor where Wells is spinning Brianna around. Neither of them looks surprised in the least to see Charlie.
For several songs, they dance with no breaks. It’s not formal dancing, it’s wild, party dancing. Charlie swings Jude so that his feet barely touch the ground and by the time a slow song plays, Jude’s ready for it, sinking back into Charlie when he’s flipped around to face the stage. Brianna, Wells and some of their other gifted friends have a small palm of fire they hold up in tribute to the stage while the ungifted teens use their lighters, swaying with the ballad.
Charlie’s lips press against Jude’s ear. “If you want to join them, I’m right here.”
He’s in a room full of teenagers and they’re talking about him, namesake of Merlin, lighting fire in his palm. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Charlie.” But Jude wants to. He wants to be a normal wizard and join his peers doing something that should be simple.
“Have you forgotten who I am? Is it the jeans? I knew I should have worn my other jacket.”
Charlie’s humor relaxes him and he’s right, if Charlie can handle dragons, he can handle Jude. “Okay, I’ll try.”
“That’s the spirit, Parker.”
Jude twists his hand in a half rotary motion, pressing each finger against the air, gathering energy—the smallest amount possible—and with the flick of his palm upward, a flame flares to life. It’s not orange-white like the others’.
It’s shimmering purple.
Before Jude can freak out, Charlie swoops in taking half of the purple flame from him, holding it in his palm. Jude unwinds into Charlie’s large frame as their purple fires burn together.
The night is a huge success. Jude and Charlie help with tear down, loading instruments and teenagers into the Westley’s van. “I’ll take care of this one, Dad,” Charlie says, referring to Jude.
When they’re gone, Jude’s eyes flick to Charlie’s motorbike.
“Mmmm, I think not. As much as I’d love to feel you behind me as we blaze through the skies, I don’t fancy meeting my end so soon. We’ll glimmer this time and save the motorbike for when I feel like risking my life at the end of your father’s hand.”
Yeah. Mads might not be on board with the motorbike just yet. Baby steps. They glimmer to the gate of Prince manor which is where the wards end and it admits Jude, the heir, and Charlie because he’s with Jude. Charlie’s still got Jude’s hand gripped in his. They walk across the grounds and climb the steps to the porch. “Father won’t mind if you come in for tea. He’ll be up.”
“Tempted as I am, it’s a long way back to Rosyth.”
Jude deflates. He’s not ready for Charlie to go so soon, but yeah, it is a long way back even on a flying motorbike. “Right. So, um, summer?”
Charlie can read his body language. “Fuck do I hate disappointing you.” He pushes Jude’s dark hair back from his face. “Someone mentioned something about an end of the year football match…? Send me the details and I’ll make it happen, Parker.”
I wonder which someone is the informant? Jude fills with the same wild exhilaration as when Charlie walked through the coffee shop door.
“That’s better, love.” Charlie tilts Jude’s head so their lips can meet. It’s a chaste kiss—Charlie’s probably exercising caution with Mads inside—but it’s Charlie’s soft lips and his scent of earth mixed with the leather of his jacket. Without warning, he smacks Jude’s arse. “Behave until then, Parker.”
“Hey!” But Jude’s floating, a wave of that feeling surges. How can he get just a bit more?
Charlie must read that too. “I don’t think so. Go inside, brat.”
Jude makes like he’s going inside, but he turns around to watch Charlie walk toward the gate so he can glimmer away. He might not see him in jeans for a while—if ever again—and he’s not missing the view of his denim-clad arse walk away for all the alchemy ash in the world.