Disclaimer: See Chapter One.
Author's Note: Thank you to all of my wonderful, extravagant reviewers. Yes, this is just for fun. So please keep those reviews coming.
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Muses Behaving Badly
Chapter Eleven: Time Out
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I had seen the inside of my closet too many times. Sitting on the floor of my closet, head resting on my knees, I listened to the angry muttering in my room. What I couldn't figure out is why Cerdic and the knights had felt compelled to throw me into my closet and then rip apart my bedroom.
Had it been the orgy story?
No. Even though Arthur had been embarrassed at first, he did eventually warm to the idea of being a stud pre-Gueneviere. Okay, so that wasn't it.
Was it Cyrnic playing muse?
No. They couldn't complain about the fact that I was writing about them, no matter how smutty the stories might be. Again, not it.
What could it be?
Could it be…
I groaned and covered my eyes 'cause even in the darkness of the closet I didn't want to see. I had an inkling of why my muses were giving me a "time out." It had to be the pony-tailed drummer from New Zealand who I'd let out of the house just before dawn with a long, slow kiss. I'd given into temptation. No, I'd not had sex with one of my muses. Instead I'd had mind-blowing, mean-nothing sex with one of my ex-boyfriends--this one from New Zealand. It was in fact he who'd introduced me to the King Arthur movie. In any case, he'd shown up at the house with a box of condoms and a bottle of merlot and the rest, as they say, was history.
My muses hadn't been anywhere around while Mal was here, I considered ruefully. Which meant that they had made themselves scarce by choice. Oh but now they weren't being scarce.
"A drummer?" snarled Tristan through the closet door.
I sighed.
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The boys were not happy. Perhaps it was because I was hosting a playdate for my sister Maria's friends. A passel of two year olds invading the house was enough to make the fiercest of the knights quail. It didn't help that, for some reason, the children could see the knights.
And interact with them.
The boys had suffered for all of fifteen minutes before popping back out of sight and back to my mind or wherever they resided when not interacting with humanity.
Revenge was sweet. I have just a little sex and they lock me in a closet. They have sex, commit acts of torture, and wanton destruction and I had no recourse.
"Oh, Bridget, this was really nice of you to still hold this with your sister in Massachusetts," gushed a mom just a little over my age. I think her name was Peggy.
"No worries, Peggy. I don't mind having the kids over and Maria's got way too many toys for just one kid to play with." I grinned at the harried mom, did a quick check to make sure that all hell had not broken loose, and headed to the kitchen to make snacks for the moms and kids. After all, Mom always did a snack tray for the visitors to Maria's playdates and I wasn't about to break tradition.
Pushing open the swinging door to the kitchen, I paused at the smirking Cyrnic perched on my counter. "Having fun?"
Cyrnic nodded, taking a swig of his beer. "Aye. You had sex."
I nodded, moving to the fridge where I had a tray of already cut veggies in bags. Pulling it out, I set the tray on the counter and proceeded to prepare the tray. "Yup, though the Scafia and the knights weren't thrilled."
Cyrnic shrugged. "They just don't like your taste in men. After all, Mal was it?"
I nodded.
"Had more tattoos than Tristan, had hair longer than my father and was unsuitable as husband material," explained the Saxon prince.
I sighed. "Um, Cyrnic, that wasn't marriage, just mind-blowing sex. Now stay in here. Since you weren't involved in the 'lock Bridget in a closet to teach her the error of her ways for having sex that didn't involve a muse' I won't steer the kids towards you."
"Many thanks," chuckled Cyrnic as I headed back out.
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The kids were gone, the house once again cleaned up and I was now soaking in the tub, listening to Fields of the Nephilim, Kamelot and Within Temptation. After all, all three were wonderful inspiration and I was officially on downtime. I'd finished the rewrite of the manuscript, emailed the corrected document to my editor, and was just waiting for the next manuscript. See, the more I did, the bigger my paycheck. And if I kept on this way, my next paycheck would be more than enough for me to go in with three girlfriends from school to get a house instead of a shoebox apartment.
I turned off the tap and settled back into the cinnamon and sandalwood-scented bubbles. Tonight I was making lasagna, the pasta, meat, ricotta and parmesan filling the entire house with the wonderful smell of Italian cooking. Then I was going to settle in front of the computer and bang out at least one chapter on one of my stories.
Thank goodness I had a bag of dice of many varieties. I was going to decide which fandom I played with based on the roll of the dice.
Wonder if I would have any better luck than Lancelot with dice?
"You might," growled Lancelot.
Oh, boy.
TBC...
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To My Wonderful Reviewers
vampout: So glad you're enjoying. Here's more and let's hope that you keep liking.
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