Last snippet for 2015 on WIP It Up Wednesday #wipitup

Thought I'd end off the year with a quick look at the other POV from Book With No Name.



Erik leaned on the balcony railing and stared down at the crowd of patrons partying in her club. They were laughing and buying over-priced and over-watered booze, just the way it was supposed to be. The strobe lights bounced off the miles of glitter and tinsel, adding blinding sparkles to the atmosphere. Overhead, four massive disco balls turned and spat out flashes of light, randomly illuminating either patrons or the leopard print wallpapered walls. And best of all, Bangkok was a half a world away from home, which couldn't be more perfect.
She'd made it through her second year. She hadn't expected to jump straight into a manager position, but the opening was there and she grabbed it. The learning curve had been steep, but she felt like she had her feet on the floor and her head squarely on her shoulders. Life wasn't perfect, but it was good. She took a deep breath and enjoyed a sense of calmness.
"Hey, Boss Lady."
She shifted to look at Sebastian, her stage manager. His chest muscles bulged under his white t-shirt, the rips in his jeans hinted at strong thighs and the ever present headset rested on his scruffy brown hair. He sat on one hip and flipped a hand to point behind him. "It's just cray cray back there. Shangri–Lay's havin' a hissy fit."
Stifling the urge to pound her forehead on the brass railing, Erik asked, "What's the little diva's issue this time?"
"Well, she's screamin' somethin' 'bout Ra-chell took her pink scarf and the new eye shadow that matches it. Ra-chell says she didn't. She bought 'em this afternoon when she was out shoppin'. You know Ra-chell'nd shoppin'. She gets a paycheck and it's gone. But no way Shangri–Lay 's gonna believe her. She's threatenin' to rip out her hair extensions."Erik placed her palms on the cool railing and pushed upright. "Lead on." She followed the harassed stage manager through the club, the pounding bass drowning out anything more he might have said to her. In the evening gown laden, makeup strewn topsy-turviness of the dressing room chaos ruled. Two partially dressed people rolled on the floor, entangled in each other's arms and legs, with fingers gripping hair and voices screeching. The other performers stood alongside, cheering and encouraging their favorite.Erik grabbed a nearby glass, tossed the contents in the sink and filled it with cold water. Pushing her way through the crowd, she flung the contents on the fighters. "Ah! My makeup.""You bitch!""Excuse me?" Erik lifted an eyebrow."Oh, crap. Get off me. You brute. You bitchy brute." 



What's happening in the rest of the month on Erotic Notions
31 – Blog closed – New Years Eve