Cherrie Lynn

Archive for December, 2011

Sunday, December 11th, 2011
Okay, Guys!

This is probably the last Ghost/Macy scene you’ll have for a while, as it’s getting hard to find anything at this point that doesn’t give away stuff I’d rather keep under wraps. To set this up a little, this is a scene near the beginning. Our hero and heroine have just been caught by their friends in the backseat of his car outside a bar. They aren’t quite in a compromising position, but almost. ;-) Enjoy.

“Oh my God! Were you getting it on?” Candace shrieked loud enough for the entire parking lot to hear as soon as Seth pushed the door open.

“Well, not anymore, thank you. Jesus, what kind of friend are you?”

Macy threw back her head and giggled. It must look really bad, with her straddling him like this, but at least they’d stopped when they did. Except…dammit! She’d never put her panties back on. That God his hoodie was big enough to hide anything that might still be on display.

“Is it safe?” Brian asked from an area near the back of the car.

“Yes, they’re clothed, at least.”

He appeared next to his girlfriend. “Hey, man, we’re ready to jet. But Candace’s car has a dead battery. Do you have cables?”

“Do I have cables. You know what’s pathetic? That you don’t have cables. Have I not taught you anything?”

Macy didn’t miss Candace’s little grin as she extricated herself from the car so Seth could get out. Immediately, she staggered on her weak knees, which she knew had very little to do with the beer she’d imbibed and everything to do with what he’d just done to her. Seth reached out to steady her, his knowing gaze holding hers for a moment longer than necessary. Cold air tickled the bare heat between her legs and she shuddered.

“You straight?” he asked. She nodded, suddenly feeling shy under the scrutiny of their friends. As she was about to glance away, she noticed the white writing on his black T-shirt, visible now that he wasn’t wearing his hoodie. It read Why can’t you all die and leave me alone?

Macy frowned. Jesus. Couldn’t take him anywhere. But then public appearances probably wouldn’t be part of this deal, anyway.

Any relationship between them would be founded on nothing but sex. Raw, hotter-than-hell sex. It was all they had, really—this blazing chemistry that turned all her once coherent thoughts into grainy mush.

Was there anything really wrong with that, though? All her life she’d prepared herself for The One, and subsequently examined each potential relationship only for its capacity to become something enduring. It didn’t have to be that way. Seth was a guy she wouldn’t want to be with long-term, and it was probably a good thing because he didn’t strike her as the relationship type anyway. But damn, he made her hormones growl.

Even now, her gaze clung to him. Maybe that had always been the case, but it was ten times worse at the moment. She was fidgety, empty, unsatisfied. Still aching, still trembling deep inside. She should’ve asked him what time he would get off, and if she could get him off soon after.

He and Brian set about their task of jumping off Candace’s car, and Macy found herself laughing with the other girls at their banter, especially when Ghost made the crack about Brian and Candace being so into each other even their vehicles were copulating. They had her car up and running in no time. Then the lovebirds spent a good five minutes saying their overly affectionate farewells, even though they were only parting for the few minutes it would take to drive back to their apartment in separate rides.

Damn. All her friends were going to go home and get laid. Macy was in for yet another long, lonely night if she didn’t do something. Seth had already grown exasperated with his friends’ exuberance and headed back to his car. She took a deep, fortifying breath and followed him.

He glanced back at her as he popped open the driver’s side door. Without hesitating, she walked up to him and put her arms around his neck. “Thank you.”

“For what?” he asked, sounding genuinely puzzled. Seriously?

“For making me feel a whole lot better.”

His mouth found her ear, sending a chill skittering down her spine when he flicked the lobe with his tongue. When he spoke, the warmth of his breath only intensified the sensation. “How ’bout I call you later tonight?”

Giddiness erupting inside her, she nodded into his shoulder, then stepped back and realized she was still wearing his hoodie. “Oh, here.” As her hand came up to take it off, he caught it with his own.

“Looks better on you. Stay warm.” So what if it had a big white skull with flaming eyes on the back and her fingers didn’t reach the end of the sleeves? It smelled like him, and that was so good she might just sleep in the damn thing from now on. With one final dazzling grin, he dropped into the driver’s seat. She’d begun to shuffle over to her friends when his voice called her back.

“Hey, Mace.”

Desperately trying to hide her own smile, she glanced back.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”


Sunday, December 4th, 2011
Parlor Chatter

Some of the most fun scenes to write in Ghost and Macy’s book are the highly mature, eloquent and intelligent conversations the guys have while they’re at work at Dermamania. I thought I would share a few clips of these with you on this warm, rainy December morning (at least where I am). :)

On the hottest chick in metal…

Inside, the usual heavy metal was playing at thankfully tolerable levels and the banter was flying fast and furious. Candace was nowhere in sight.

“…all directly out of your friggin’ minds,” Brian was saying without looking up from the tattoo he was working on.

“Dude, that woman ranks off the top of the fuckability scale,” the client under his needle said. Macy wasn’t sure if arguing with your tattooist in the middle of the process was the smartest thing one could do.

“Agreed,” one of the other artists—she thought they called him Tay—announced from across the room, where he was perched on a stool in front of the computer screen. “I’m staring at the evidence right now. I’d hit it like a big rig with no brakes.”

“She’s hot, okay, but she’s got nothing on Maria Brink or Cristina Scabbia—” Brian took that moment to lift his head and address Tay, but his gaze landed right on Macy still standing near the door. “Oh, hey, Mace.”

She grinned. “Would you be having this discussion in front of your girlfriend?”

One corner of his mouth tugged upward and a dimple dug deep into his cheek. “She’s privy to the never-ending Hottest Chick in Metal debate, don’t worry. She knows she outshines them all.”

Awww,” the guys said in unison, breaking into laughter. Tay muttered something that sounded awfully like “pussy whipped.”

“Says the choad who has none,” Brian fired back.
On death metal:

(Brian) “Death growls bore me. Who wants to hear the Cookie Monster? Sing your fucking lyrics. Put some emotion behind it.”

(Ghost) “Aw, I’m sorry. Do you need a hug, emo boy? You know, you might want to cross your legs…your vagina is showing.”

“Suck my dick.”

“I know you’d like that, but Candace would have to return it first.”

On an unnamed crap movie:

(Ghost) “That movie fucking sucks, dude.”

(Brian) “Your face fucking sucks.”

“Seriously. I’ve never seen worse acting in a movie that didn’t show tits during the opening credits.”

They might not all make it to the final cut, of course; I’m just having a good time. The guys are a lot of fun, and they allow my inner teenaged boy to come out and play. Hee hee! :)

Have a great week, everyone!