All the Lovely Creatures anthology featuring tales of creativity, never before seen monsters and beings of supernatural lore and imagination, mystery, and steamy sensuality is now available as a FREE download from Smashwords and Goodreads!!
L.M. Smith’s own contribution, Dance of the Valkyrie, is a murder mystery featuring a unique spin on the Valkyrie’s of Norse mythology and combines intrigue, suspense, and passion in a quick and enjoyable read that you won’t want to miss.
GOTTA HAVE IT!
WHAT’S THE BUZZ?
“Some of the tales were YA-ish, others adult – dark and full of gritty sex and violence. Being a typical male and horror fan, I preferred the latter.” ~J. Parent
“L.M Smith’s Bonnie the Valkyrie in her story, “Dance of the Valkyrie,” is erotic and dangerous, many a guy’s wicked desire.” ~Jason P.
“And now … the moment you’ve all been waiting for!”
The man’s alligator skin cowboy boots thumped softly on the short, industrial style carpet as he made his way for the door. The room went dark and somewhere behind him a bright red spotlight clicked on, casting a sinful glow over everything that it touched. The unexpected volume of the cheering was what caught his attention and made him turn. How could a seedy little strip-joint in this part of Anchorage bring in so many patrons on a Thursday? When he saw her standing on the stage something unexpected happened; she certainly wasn’t the first stripper he’d ever seen, but she was, without a doubt, the most interesting.
She’d struck a pose at the front of the stage wearing a floor-length red, patent-leather skirt with slits up both sides that were as long as her amazon legs and thigh-high black go-go boots underneath. A matching long red vest completed the ensemble, held together by crisscrossed lacing that barely covered her chest and exposed her muscular abdomen. Her rail-straight black hair was short enough in the back to expose her shaved neck but then gradually sloped downward in the front with long tendrils on either side of her face that cascaded, resting gently between her breasts. But these were not the details that made her unusual; every inch of her well-oiled skin was covered from head-to-toe in gray-wash tattoos, making her look ethereal as it reflected the haunting glow of the spotlight. She had multiple facial and ear piercings but they were almost difficult to notice compared to the two large, amber-colored horns protruding from her forehead and arcing toward the ceiling in razor-sharp points.
Only a few seconds had passed between the announcer’s voice and the unexpected music that piped in from the overhead speakers. It wasn’t the thumping of drums and squeal of electric guitars that one usually finds in those establishments, but the deep gongs from a large bell followed by a chorus of male voices chanting a slow, dark dirge. A female voice joined in, soft and haunting as it floated over the room with slow, mysterious lyrics about death and soul collection; and the woman on the stage began to move.
“Would you like to sit down?” A bouncer asked from somewhere nearby.
The man realized that his mouth was hanging open slightly and he snapped it shut; unwilling to tear his eyes away from her even as he felt someone take his elbow and lead him to a grungy black armchair.
Instead of hip thrusting and gyrating she began to roll her body slowly and seductively, like a giant serpent as her hands wove intricate patterns in the air around her body. A stripper pole rose from the stage and disappeared into the ceiling but it was ignored by the dancer and forgotten by the crowd as her feet move in slight increments causing her body to shift and sway poetically before them.
As she moved the man felt his interest building up inside of him. He found his eyes carefully tracing each tiny stroke of her fingertips as she danced them tauntingly around the bow upon her breasts.
‘One soft tug.’ he mused. ‘That’s all it would take to release them.’