Finally! Productivity!

So far, no call back from Barnes & Noble, which doesn't make me feel extremely hopeful. They said they'd be calling the store I worked at previously for a reference, and if that went through, they'd call for a second interview. They said they wanted to get through second interviews this week so that they could hire someone to start next week. My old cafe manager, Kent, was probably a bitch about my reference...

Oh well. If I get a call, I do. If I don't, maybe I'll try harder to find a receptionist job of some kind. That doesn't sound like too bad a gig.

I'm not feeling too confident about my ability to fit into that environment, anyway. Especially if it's not even about books anymore. Those joy-killing bastards...

Anyways... what was I going to say?

Oh yes! I remember!

As I was walking to Starbucks today, I had a renewed appreciation of all the lovely greenery and shrubbery and flora and whatnot there is to see out here in California. Flowers everywhere! I wanted to share my joy, so I took a picture of some beauteous orange roses just outside the Starbucks.

Here they are:

I was going to say something else too, wasn't I?

Hmmm... What was it? What was it?

Oh yes! I remember.

I WROTE MORE! :D

It'll probably need editing later on, but it's getting there! ENJOY!

“Who, then?” If Ryenne had turned to look at Rhys at that moment, she would have seen the gleam in his eyes mirroring those of the sea maid herself. But she did not look. She was still carefully avoiding the gaze of the creature lounging before her.

The sea maid grinned again, raking her bony fingers through the ropes of pearl about her neck. “That information is not without its price.”

Rhys gave a strange little bow, waving his hand to indicate a smallish chest two of the crewmen had stealthily retrieved from his cabin. “I have Dhallian silver, jewelry crafted by the finest artisans in Palesea -”

“Such trinkets are of no use to me,” Another impatient flick of her fin. “I already possess them aplenty.”

“Name your price, then.”

“The payment I require is costly, Captain Maralan. And you cannot pay it.” Ryenne could feel those obsidian eyes again. This time she could not resist their pull. She lifted her chin to stare into them, those inky chasms, blacker than the night around them. The sea maid returned her gaze, steadily. Hungrily. “Only she can.”

Ryenne's voice felt rusty in her throat. “What payment is that, lady?”

The sea maid was silent for a moment, and her silence was louder than all the sounds of wind and waves. Rhys had clamped his hand around Ryenne's wrist again. It seemed he knew as well as she what the sea maid would ask for. Neither of them were disappointed.

“I desire your legs, Ryenne Caelar.”

Ryenne opened her mouth to respond, but Rhys got there first. She was more than a little surprised at his outraged tone. “Out of the question! You can't possibly be serious?”

The sea maid was unfazed by his anger. With a coy tilt to her head, she eased her way down the rocks and into the narrow stretch of water that separated her from the Rose. “Why so vehement, Captain? What use are her legs to you?” Ryenne could not help but blush. Now it was the eyes of the crew she felt burning into her back.

Rhys ignored the insinuation, did not let go of her wrist.“I'll not bargain the lives of my crew for mere information.”

His crew? Ryenne could hardly believe her ears. For weeks, she had been treated more like a pestilence than a person, and now she was being acknowledged as a member of his crew? She would have laughed, had she not felt so much like crying.

There had to be a way out of this, a way around. They had spent so many months searching. This Queen's Stone, whatever it was, was important. They couldn't turn back now.

The creature laughed, a sound like tearing silk.“I did not ask for her life. Only her legs.”

“They are one and the same.” 

With her free hand, Ryenne began to rummage through her pockets. There had to be something; there was always something. A pirate always had a trick up her sleeve...

“It is the only price I will accept.”

Unfortunately, all Ryenne could find up her sleeves – or in her pockets, or stuffed in her purse – were three copper denari, a soiled handkerchief, and a battered deck of...

...playing cards?

Ryenne had never been much of a gambler, but now was as good a time as any to start, wasn't it?

Rhys sounded defeated, but stubborn. “Then I am afraid -”

Ryenne had never been more unwilling to interrupt him. Nonetheless, she did.

“Have you ever played Piquet, Lady Seamaid?”