The Adventures of Katie Button Pt 4 J-M

J - M

Continuing with the A-Z of Katie Button, we're here at J through to M where you can have a sneak peek into Katie's life. If you want to read more, hop over to  Amazon US Amazon UK where you can buy Katie Button for 99p/99c for a limited time.

J

James and Jack, the two love interests in Katie’s life.

James and Jack are brothers who also successfully run a branding company together alongside their father, John.

Jack is the oldest and a bit of playboy. He has a naughty twinkle in his blue eyes which attracts Katie’s attention. Whisking her away on luxury mini breaks, Katie is hooked and ready for flirty fun.

James on the other hand is dull compared to James but he does bail her out a few times when Katie has a few mishaps. He is also the subject of Katie’s romantic and sexy dreams which leaves Katie blushing in his presence.

Another J is for Johanna. She is super bitch and really doesn’t warm to Katie, or anyone for that matter. Stomping over everyone to get where she wants to be, is Johanna’s strength as well as belittling Katie and Alana as part of her everyday role.

K

Kisses and Katie

There’s plenty of kissing going on in Katie’s life and dreams.

Katie

Here’s a few words readers have used to describe Katie: quirky, passionate, kooky, funny, a regular girl who could be awkward at time but who the reader could relate to. witty, compassionate and loyal. She loves chocolate, pastries and brownies. She is always writing lists, some of which, if in the wrong hands could get her into a lot of trouble. She adores shoes and boots to distraction. Oh, and she loves mojitos and cheese strings. But she’s not perfect. On the wrong side of her line manager, Johannah, Katie finds herself justifying her every move losing her confidence. She’s a bit of a daydreamer and chatterbox, thinking about Hollywood movies rather than the business in the boardroom. And she hides Heat behind her work papers; looking conscientious but far from it.

London!!!

L

Love Lust

London  

The Adventures of Katie Button is a chicklit/romance so love features heavily as well as lust. In her dreams, Katie experiences the power of love where when she wakes up, she still experiences the feeling. Lust is reserved for Jack. He’s not the man you;d take home to your mother and Katie knows this but can’t help the attraction of his playful, sexy nature.

London is the main setting of Katie Button. I love London and have lived and worked in London so it seemed natural to have this marvellous city as the backdrop to Katie’s life. However, Katie’s dreams take her further afield . . .

M

Mojitos

Mentioned earlier, Katie loves them so much, it seemed perfect for M. It’s her favourite drink; elegant, sophisticated and rather yummy! A few messy situations occur after a mojito or several . . . 

Music

There's a playlist to accompany Katie Button. Katie Button Playlist . Enjoy. x

Rum based cocktails, mojito on the left. Yummy

Monday Mixer! It's back! Yay!!!

I knew my day was coming. I planned it just as I wanted it. But there’s always some family drama erupting around my eldest. What’s he gone and done now? I can’t quite make it out but my Beryl is wagging that finger again. Such a sagacious woman, taking no nonsense from any of them.

A tear trickles down my sallowed cheek as a susurrus of her name escapes my dry lips, hoping it’ll reach her like a gentle kiss on her heavily rouged cheek. She’s sitting proud, ignoring the ennui surrounding her from her own flesh and blood. I wish I could clip my boys right round the ear for their lack of respect; not to me, but their mother.

The stentorian voice of the vicar, belying his doddering frame, makes me jump as it rings in my head; ironic how his words of love are splitting my skull. Sod this for a game of soldiers. As soon as Beryl bids her last, I’m off. Just as long as there’s none of that ululating. My sister’s one for that but she’s keeping it together.

I smile, surveying my life below. Not too bad, Sydney, not too bad at all.

200

Written for Monday Mixer, hosted my Jeff Hollar over at The Latinum Vault

So pleased this flash fiction is back! I loved this. Makes you think and is highly creative. xxx

Mid Week Blues Buster Changing Winds (judged 2nd place)

This story won me second place. Yay. xx

The whispers were true. Rosalind was back. As John watched from his high, stone walls, Rosalind rode in, escorted by his guards who made sure she was brought immediately to him. She stood before John, silently staring at him. It was happening again; he was losing himself in her green eyes, vibrant like an early spring morning promising excitement of the hunt.

  “Aren’t you going to offer me anything?” she asked. “It’s been a long journey.”

  “Rosalind, I banished you from the kingdom. Knowing upon your return you would be sentenced to death, why on earth are you here?”

   “I do not question where the winds take me, nor do I fear the consequences,” she replied, taking the goblet of wine offered to her.

    “It’s that kind of talk, witch talk that got you trouble in the first place.”

    “You haven’t changed much,” Rosalind said, walking towards the window. “Neither has the condition of your townspeople.”

    “There is a war to be funded.”

    “A war in a place these people know nothing about.”

    “You haven’t come back to discuss my taxes?” he asked, standing close behind her, his fingers entwined in her long raven hair. “I’ve missed you.” Rosalind felt his hot breath on her neck as he scooped her hair away, revealing milky white flesh. “I can over turn your death sentence Rosalind,” he murmured.

     She turned to face him, cupping his face in her hands and softly kissing him. “I will not change,” she whispered. “I am who I am, a free spirit who cannot be tamed. Even by a king.”

     The grip on her wrist tightened, his eyes dark and cold. “Then the people you care so much about will continue to suffer as I suffer, unless you renounce your ways.” His grip loosened.  “I love you Rosalind. And offer you everything.” His lips pressed on hers, demanding a response but none came. “You have sealed your fate,” he spat, his hand forming a vice around her neck. Rosalind, remaining calm, tried to pull his hand away, her nails digging in his flesh, breaking the skin.

   “And you have sealed you’s she panted as he released his hand, blood trickling down his arm from her nail mark.

    Rosalind didn’t know why the winds lead her back to John. And as she lay on the cold stone floor, her ankles in shackles, she didn’t question why. Even when she heard the stacking of wood outside, she didn’t question. She accepted everything, even meeting an apothecary along her journey who insisted her nails were painted with a clear liquid, to protect her from harm.  

      That now, was clear to Rosalind. Everything was done for a reason. Now to find the reason for her death as she was lead to the pyre. A muted crowd watched as she was tied to the steak and more wood was piled up around her.

    The flames licked and danced around her, spreading and growing, crackling and spitting. Soon, a wall of fire ate away at her as smoke drifted up and carried on the wind.

     The wound on John’s arm sent him into a fever. From his bed he smelt burning, could see the smoke swirl up high. He cried out as the pain in his arm spread throughout his body, until too weak to even moan. As life ebbed away, a breeze rolled over him, whispers surrounded him. The voice of Rosalind echoed in the air, her sweet voice, gentle laugh. “I am free,” she sang, “free to roam wherever the wind takes me, where you can’t harm me.”

   “Rosalind,” said the hoarse voice of John. “What have you done?”

    “You were right about sealing my fate John. My fate was to be free from you forever and to free the people from you.”   Stillness and silence enveloped John as the breeze, the wind and Rosalind left him to die alone.   

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Written for Mid Week Blues Buster over at http://thetsuruokafiles.wordpress.com/ .      

Freedom Five Sentence Fiction

It's been a while since I wrote a five sentence fiction story and it was hard!! This week's word is freedom.

Liam sat in the windowless box room, his hands clasped tight, wondering how on earth he came to be in this situation, having always believed in justice, and now relying on twelve strangers to do the right thing.

It was soon time to hear his fate, and Liam was lead out, back up into the courtroom where all eyes fell on him, including hers, the one who had brought him here in the first place, the one who told the vicious lies without flinching or remorse, the one he rejected when she flung herself at him.

The judge uttered his words and Liam’s face paled, his knees buckled under him as he wretched with fear and disbelief, tears rolling down sallow cheeks as freedom was no longer his right. His wife’s agonising howl echoed around the courtroom, making Liam’s heart ache, wanting to hold her, reassure her everything would be alright, he would be strong, he would survive, they would survive the injustice thrown upon them.

But time was no longer his friend and wouldn’t be for the next five years as he was lead from the court with his wife’s cries ringing in his ears.

Written for Lillie Mcferrin's Five Sentence Fiction where you can also read the other stories. xxx

Rebirth Anthology for #J.A.MesPress A Change of Seasons

Here's my story for consideration in the Rebirth anthology run by J. A. Mes Press where all money from sale of book will be going to a Stroke charity in the UK.

Title: A Change of Seasons

Author: Lizzie Koch

Book: Yes

Word count: 1033

A Change of Seasons

Eighteen months ago, Kathy’s world crashed, catching her fiancé with her oldest friend had left her life devoid of meaning except for self loathing and loneliness.

Until Aaron.

Aaron sat in the only empty chair. Kathy continued to stare out the cafe window as he chatted politely, her guarded nature preventing nothing more than a few pleasantries. Then he left, a feather drifting down behind him.

The second time they met was in the street market, buying lemongrass, laughing at their mutual interest but went their separate ways as a white feather fell. The third time wasn’t an accident. Kathy passed the cafe a week later, thinking of Aaron. She wasn’t sure where the thought came from but she found herself sitting in the same spot by the window, watching the door. Aaron walked in, giving her a smile. Kathy smiled back as butterflies danced in her tummy.

   “This is becoming a habit,” he joked. “Aaron.” He held out his hand.

   “Kathy,” she replied, taking his hand; strong, smooth, a little cold but the spring weather was unpredictable.

   “How did the Thai curry go?”

    “I never made it,” Kathy admitted. “It seemed too much fuss for one . . . I don’t know why I told you that.”

    “I’m a good listener,” Aaron replied, staring into her empty eyes, resting his hand on hers. The first intimate touch in months. Kathy liked it. “Actually, I have some lemongrass here. How about I cook you the best Thai curry this side of Bangkok?” Kathy looked into his eyes, overcome with trust. They left the cafe together as a feather drifted down behind them.

The Thai curry was amazing, just like him. Until he walked her home. Disappointment filled Kathy as Aaron didn’t kiss her goodnight, desperately wanting more than a reassuring hand. A feather nestled, unnoticed, on the steps as she walked in.

Kathy spent the next few weeks with Aaron as her mind and body awoke to possibilities of sharing her life again. But Aaron hadn’t touched or kissed her. So, with new found courage, she asked him outright if he liked her.

He responded with lips, caressing her neck, travelling down the V of her dress, his hands teasing open the buttons as her dress slid to the floor. He lingered on her curves, scooping her up in his strong arms, carrying her to his bed, leaving a trail of feathers behind him.

Spring turned to summer. Kathy was a new person. She joined a zumba class, booked a weekend away with friends and enjoyed nights out with them. In fact, she was seeing less and less of Aaron. But Aaron didn’t mind. He only encouraged her as Kathy blossomed, living her life, rather than being a spectator.

Tumbling orange leaves told Aaron autumn was already upon him. He sat in a restaurant, seeing Kathy outside, amid a group, noticing one man unable to lift his gaze from Kathy. It might have been autumn but Kathy was in full bloom.

    “Friends?” Aaron asked as Kathy joined him.

    “People from work,”

    “The tall, dark haired guy?”

    “Ben? He’s new.”

    “He likes you . . . you’re so different now Kathy. Back when we met, no one noticed you . . . you disappeared amongst the crowd . . . but now.”

     “Stop it!”

      “You’re going to have a happy life Kathy. You’re out there on your own. You don’t need me anymore,” he admitted, gently taking her hand.

      “What?” Kathy’s smile dropped.

      “When was the last time we saw each other?” he asked, softly stroking her hand.

      “You said you didn’t mind.”

       “I don’t. I want you to be happy. When I met you, what did you have? Eighteen months of a life going nowhere.”

      “And I suppose you saved me,” Kathy said bitterly.

       “Yes . . . I did . . . now you don’t need me . . . which is good . . . I don’t have long.”

       “What!” Kathy stared at Aaron and for the first time noticed how tired and old he looked. “Who are you?”

      “Do you really want to know?”

Leaving the restaurant, they walked through the park, hand in hand, the crunching of leaves under their feet and a trail of feathers behind.

       “I was sent to save you . . . I’m your guardian angel.” Kathy didn’t laugh or argue. Aaron picked up a white feather. “One of mine,” he said with a smile.

       Kathy noticed the trail, glistening in the moonlight. “I know . . . I think I’ve always known.”

       “And you know I must leave . . . I’m dying. My feathers are like the leaves of autumn. I must go home before my last feather falls.”

       “But . . .”

        “You don’t need me anymore. There’s no room for me which is how its supposed to be.”

        “But I don’t want you to die!”

        “I won’t . . . if I go home.”

         Kathy fell into his arms, holding him tight. “I love you,” she sobbed.

         Aaron kissed the top of his head, her floral scent stronger than any flower in bloom. “It’s time.” He stepped back. A light shrouded him. Kathy saw his face, smiling at her, as his wings spread magnificently behind him. The light vanished and Aaron was gone.

Kathy picked up every feather on her walk back, passing a cocktail bar.

    “Is that your girl?” Zara asked, sitting with Aaron, looking down through the clouds.

    “Yes,” he sighed.

    “Oh look! My boy is running out, calling her,” Zara said. They watched as Ben caught Kathy up.

    “I thought you had a date?” Ben asked.

     “He had to go,” Kathy replied, looking down at the feathers in her arms.

    “Where did those come from?”

    “A parting gift,” she said thoughtfully, watching Ben open up his briefcase.

    “Me too,” he said, showing a handful of feathers. “She got me the job with you, said it would change my life, I’d meet someone, forget all the crap and self destruction.” His eyes locked on to hers.

     “Kiss her already,” Zara moaned. “Why does he hesitate?”

      “There’s no need to rush. Two lost, lonely souls  have found each other. I say out mission was a success. Leave them to it,” Aaron replied.

If Aaron and Zara hung around, they would have seen Ben hold Kathy tight before his lips met hers as soft as the feathers they held between them.

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Blues Buster Dogs of Lust wk50 Lust

After last weeks' second place, I thought I'd give Jeff Tsuruoka's Mid Week Blues Buster over at The Tsuruoka Files another try. This week, a song by The The called Dogs of Lust. To listen, click the link. x here.

Lust

It had been eight weeks since Jay had his heart crushed. He thought he was over the worst but as the days grew longer and the mercury rose, Jay was reminded of sultry days on the beach. When he closed his eyes, he could see her glowing, bronzed skin shimmering in the sun, smelling of coconut and looking good enough to eat.

     Even when Jay was awake, he saw Emma everywhere, in the coffee she drank to the waft of her perfume as he walked down the street.

   The one place he didn’t expect to see her was at the back street bar as he sank his third bottle of beer, trying to celebrate his birthday with friends.

      His pulse raced.

      His mouth became instantly dry.

      The ice cold bottle of beer warmed quickly in his sweaty hand.

      “Is that Emma?” Gary asked.

       Jay couldn’t speak, unable to lift his gaze from Emma as she sauntered onto the stage. Her long blonde hair tucked up into a dark, bobbed wig; it suited her, bringing out the dark pools of her eyes. Her lips were plump, glossy and waiting to be kissed. He remembered vividly kissing those lips, as they smiled back at the audience. He could see her tasteful rose tattoo just at the base of her back. He remembered how he caressed that tattoo with his lips as she moaned under him. Now she was showing off that tattoo to complete strangers as she wrapped her legs around the pole, throwing her head back.       

     She licked her lips with the tip of her tongue. Jay groaned, remembering being on the end of that tongue.

    Even when her eyes fell on Jay, she kept smiling, not thrown for a second. In fact Jay was sure she tried even harder as she faced the crowd and slid down the pole, thrusting her legs wide open, before crawling towards the audience, and Jay, on all fours.   

        Jay felt a tightening in his jeans. He knew she was agile and supple but he’d never seen her do the splits. She was oozing sex, the sexiest thing he had ever seen  . . . and tonight he wanted her.

       Always wanted her.

       She knew it.

       Jay was hot. The sweat dripped down his back. His jeans skintight, stuck to his thighs. He ignored his friends as they tried to talk with him, trying to ignore Emma. They walked away, feeling uncomfortable watching their mate’s ex girlfriend writhe in front of them wearing next to nothing. But Jay sat, intoxicated, knowing how she used to respond to his touch, as he gently stroked her soft contours.

     He groaned, running a hand through his hair, not knowing what to do with himself.

   The music stopped and the crowd cheered. She bowed, which raised more cheers due to her skimpy bra, before running back stage. Moments later, her blonde hair flowing down her back, Emma appeared, fully clothed. She walked towards Jay. He wanted to reach out to her, glide his fingers down her tanned arm, wanted her completely.

      He couldn’t stand.

      He tried adjusting himself. She smiled. It was the acknowledgement Jay needed. Just a drink . . . a lingering kiss. . .

     She carried on walking to the guy behind the bar where he kissed those lips.

     Jay left his beer, needing fresh air. The night was still. Enveloped in lust, Jay walked home alone wondering how he would ever forget Emma.  

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Mid Week Blues Buster Images of heaven

A backdrop of thick, grey cloud cast a dark shadow  over the run-down building and Oliver shivered, checking the address scrawled in his notebook. It was right. He gingerly pushed open the peeling wooden door, afraid it would fall off its hinges but wasn’t prepared for the splendour within. His eyes trailed up the grand, wooden staircase, following the smooth curves until they fell onto the ruby red gown. He couldn’t help but linger on the creamy flesh of slim leg through the split . . . a long split . . . past the knee . . .  up to her thigh.

      “You found it then?” Her sultry voice swathed Oliver in silk. He gazed up to her sun-kissed face, unable to speak. “Come,” she offered extending a delicate hand.

    Oliver climbed the thick carpeted stairs, unable to avert his gaze from her sapphire eyes. He found himself in a bedroom, where sunlight flooded through floor to ceiling windows, casting a natural glow on her beautiful skin, making artificial lighting redundant.  She draped herself across the billowing, snowy white covers of the bed. Fumbling with equipment, Oliver’s hands trembled.

     “Everything OK?” she asked in a breathy voice.

    “Yeah, good, just getting ready. You said these photos are for someone special?”

     “ Yes. Aren’t all photos special?” she purred.

     “Of course. Shall we begin?” Oliver immersed himself in his art which was easy when the muse was so beautiful. He didn’t imagine her penetrating stare, her flirtatious manner, teasing him, drawing him in. He was helpless, like a moth seeking the light. She was the light he fell into with heart, body and soul.

   It took time for sleep to slip away. He tried to adjust to his surroundings but it was dark. Footsteps lingered close. He smiled. A beam of light shone through the door before it burst open. Oliver shielded his eyes from the intrusion.

   “OK, Romeo, get your things and clear off,” the gruff voice said. Oliver found himself naked, lying on a shabby mattress in a squat.

  “But I was with a woman. Where is she? Where am I?”

   “Yeah, I know the type of woman you were with, do anything for a fix, steals your wallet. You’re in a condemned building, trespassing I might add.”  

    “But the staircase, the windows,” blustered Oliver, pulling on his trousers, “the bed.”

     “Must have been some trip,” the guard replied, watching Oliver pick up his camera and bag.” You’re lucky she never stole that.”

     “Trip? I wasn’t on anything! I was invited here for a photo shoot.” Full of exasperation, Oliver glanced round, seeing discarded needles, rusty teaspoons, a rat scurrying into a dark corner. He shuddered, feeling the cold as the hairs on the back of his neck bristled.

      “Yeah, I’m sure she was a supermodel,” he offered, dripping with sarcasm.

       “She was more than that, a classic beauty! She lived here.” The stairs creaked with every step, no carpet and Oliver was careful to avoid holes. Once outside, Oliver looked back at the building, just as it was when he arrived. His head ached, his mouth felt full of sawdust. The guard walked away. Oliver ran over the events. He wasn’t drugged. He’d taken nothing, only her, repeatedly. He could smell her perfume, see the contours of her body, the gentle curls of platinum hair tumbling across her eyes, so easy to love, to photograph.     

       “No! wait!” Oliver shouted, running through puddles. “I have proof.” The guard stopped as Oliver reached for his camera. “Look! I’m not lying!”

       “I’m sure whatever went on in there was mind blowing but you’re this close to me calling the police.”

       “No, look.” Oliver stared through the viewfinder, scrolling through the photos as the guard looked on impatiently. Every frame showed the same thing, an empty room with a stained, threadbare mattress. “I don’t understand. She was there. She was real!”

    “Go home!”  

    Hollowness engulfed Oliver. He knew it happened, could still feel her touch on his skin, the heat of her body. He trudged away, hearing her wispy voice behind him. He spun round, but was alone, her breathless laugh echoing in his mind, never to leave him.

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Written for  Jeff Tsuruoka's Mid Week Blues Buster over at The Tsuruoka Files.

Here's the 80's tune by Peter Godwin.