In this snippet, we're in Oriana's POV (all in first person) and one of the Concrete Angels (Dollhouse) has brought her to talk to their IT specialist. His office is called the Black Room, and it triggers a rough memory. She wakes up on the floor.
“Numbers! Hey, come on. Look at me. Numbers. Oriana.”
Numbers. Oriana. Those were names I once possessed. No, Oriana was my name. Numbers was new, a handle given to me by a cocky biker with seafoam-green eyes and broad shoulders.
“Come on, Oriana. Come back to me. You’re safe.”
The gravelly voice sounded full of reassurance and concern. No one had ever spoken to me with the same quality of voice. No one had ever cared enough since I’d left home. Most hadn’t thought I’d make it through the FBI’s training, including my instructors. I was too tall, too willowy, to blonde. But this voice was different. Stronger, encouraging without being patronizing, masculine without being assholian.
“Open those eyes for me, now. Come on, swe—Numbers.”
I opened my eyes to stare up at Scott crouched over me. The ceiling rose above him and I realized it had very elegant baroque cornices. Movement had me taking in the other faces around us: Dollhouse, Karma, Neo, Michael, and another man who reminded me of the crazy goalkeeper in a British prison soccer movie I’d once seen. None of these people had been in Denver when I worked at the FBI, which meant I was no longer in the broom closet with…with him.
“Let me up.” I struggled to get to my feet, shame burning through me. Nothing like showing my weakness to the only people who’d take advantage of it.
All I wanted to do was crawl into a hole and never come out again. I thought my therapy had worked, that I could function as a normal human being now. But I was dead wrong. I shook my head to hold back my tears. Can’t cry in front of them. I gritted my teeth and swallowed hard as I straightened my shoulders.
Sometimes it's just better to make sure the ground rules are clear. ;) There are several great authors on the Weekend Writer Warriors list, the Snippet Sunday Facebook group, and the Rainbow Snippets Facebook group. A few of my favorites are, P.T. Wyant, Karen Michelle Nutt, Veronica Scott, Jessica Subject, Kathy Griffith Karysa Faire, and Iris Blobel.
Here's the blurb for MY FOREVER COCK BIKER ENCOUNTER:
Leather, Lies, and Larceny…Forensic Accounting was never so sexy!
I don’t trust many people. Most especially, the bikers from the Concrete Angels Motorcycle Club. When I’m abducted by my “best friend” to come work for them as a forensic accountant, I pretty much have zero choice. They’re not the typical biker club. And some of their members make my hair stand on end. Hey, I got them to sign a contract, and it comes with dental. All I have to do is find out who’s embezzling from them and I can go home. It would go a lot faster if I didn’t have a sexy cocky biker hanging around. I have far too many personal demons, and then I start seeing angels. Literally. The question is which folks are more scary, those wearing the Concrete Angels’ cuts or the FBI jackets?
Oriana Hunter is the most beautiful and dangerous woman I’ve ever seen walk through the gates of the Concrete Angels’ compound. She’s badass, through and through. I don’t believe in mates-for-life, but Oriana makes me want to give it a try. But she doesn’t trust anyone, me especially, and I can recognize the signs of someone dealing with PTSD from my time in the Army. Turns out, she’s a former FBI agent and has major trust issues. Not that I blame her. With Loki at the helm and his habit of making people squirm, I wouldn’t trust us either. I know she’ll figure out our money leak, and quickly. Which means I’m popping the clutch and going in full throttle to prove I’m not what she thinks. And that she’s safer with me.
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