Kissing Claws - Julia Mills Page 0,1

ten pumps of French vanilla. (Told you, I love me some sugar and caffeine's a real close second.)

For more years than I cared to count, I'd been such a good, responsible, upstanding Fairy – at least where drinking and carousing were concerned. Then came the surprise party of the millennium. The one last night. The one for my birthday. We partied like it was 1999 and then some, and I was paying the price…big time.

My arms felt like lead and my body a sack of potatoes after falling off an old truck with rusty shocks and two flat tires. Moving even the teeniest, tiniest muscle took the strength of ten one-eyed Ogres with a couple of Orcs sprinkled in for good measure.

And, waking up… Oh, sweet baby Cherubs with dirty nappies, waking up was a whole other ball of Boobrie droppings. Let's just say, somebody needed to be dead, dying, or at the very least be in the process of losing an arm and a leg for me to get upright.

My dreams were hotter than Hell on Welcome to the Pits Day, and I refused to be disturbed. These memories were etched on my brain with a permanent marker, and I was going to relive them every day for the rest of my very long life.

Don't judge. You would've been the same way. I just know it. Oh, you think I'm blowing sunshine up that pert little heiney of yours? Well, you' could not be more wrong. let me enlighten you with a spectacularly vivid retelling of what my memoirs will refer to as The Time of My Life. (I'm going with the titles to my favorite songs for each chapter of my autobiography. Catchy, but not too over the top.)

Me, Kiki, Tanya, and the girls were partying it up Magic Mike style with the Fairy Boys from Half Naked Island. (Yes, it’s a real place. Think Hedonism XXXXXIIIII with no rules, kicked-up sex magic, and a never-ending champagne fountain flowing from hundreds upon hundreds of crystal goblets into a Lazy River of Tiny Bubbles. Yeah. That. Told ya' it was too damn good to miss even on replay.)

Too bad we weren’t actually on Half Naked Island. Can't blame Kiki. She tried her hardest. Goddess knows she did, but that place is harder to get into than a Mermaid's clamshell in a month without an R.

Thank the magical Koi at the bottom of the Queen’s Pond, my girl’s always got a backup plan. She’s never not prepared. One call to our old school chum, Cecily – half Siren/half Succubus/all heart and owner of the coolest bar this side of the Veil - and the party was still a go.

The Best Little Strip Club in Fairydom is debauchery at its finest and a seriously close second to Half Naked Island. It had everything we needed and more. Even without the Fairy Boys, Cec's Club is rated nine flames on Satan’s Places to Party list.

Moving on before I get lost in the lust…

Doesn't matter if they're in the flesh or brilliantly fantastic memories, The Fairy Boys are fabulous. One night in their presence is worth a week under the covers getting that special kinda lovin' from B.O.B. (Unless you have a Mate. In that case, your man will foot the bill for your outfit and Girls' Night Out, 'cause Baby, he'll reap the rewards. Ya' know what I mean? Whew! Almost lost my train of thought again.)

The Fairy Boys are hot, hot, hot in all the right ways. (Almost as hot as… my man, Jack. Excuse me while I swoon. Six-foot-six-and-three-quarters inches tall with wavy dark hair, emerald eyes, and muscles that beg to be massaged, that Dragon lights my fire. Oh my, great Goddess Aphrodite, thank you for my Mate. Oh, shit, sorry. I'm havin' the hardest time stayin' on topic. I promise I'll get it together.)

Where was I? Oh, yeah, So, the Fairy Boys are every woman's wet dream. The Goddess of All made them from pure pleasure for all carnal fascination, and they live up to their reputation in every way possible. They are lust personified. And, their Fairy Dust… Wowowowow! (Had to pause to fan myself just thinkin' about it.) Let's just say it makes you tingle in places you forgot you had and the ones you love to remember.

But wait. It gets better. Soooooo very much, over-the-top, wildly better.

The music in the Club was pumping. Dollar bills were flying. G-strings were snapping. Flashy pink drinks bubbling over