Lorelie Brown is a frequent commenter here at It’s Not Chick Porn and a good friend to our blog. In fact, you might remember her from her awesome entries into those writing contests I used to throw (and I will again, I promise, once I find the time… and the dough). When I asked her if she could oblige us with a novella and she gave me this one, I squee’d. So fun. So sexy. And now… a blurb.

Two years ago, Corrine McQuade was desperate to escape her father’s house. In a perfect world, she would have run to Adam Springton, handsome owner of the Gilded Angel saloon and the man she’d daydreamed about for years. Believing he saw her as only his sister’s best friend, Corrine struck out on her own, finding employment and creating the best life she could. Suddenly Adam is paying attention to her – the kind of attention that makes her skin tingle and heat and she’s tempted by a new chance at love.

But who ever heard of a happy ending for a whore?

Presenting the first chapter of Lorelie Brown’s Tarnished Angel…

Chapter One

Corrine McQuade set the ladies’ journal in front of her only friend and flipped it open. “This one,” she said, tapping a line drawing. “This is the next dress you need to have made.”

Phylissa Springton coiled one of her ringlets around a finger. “I’m not sure. Look at the front of that skirt. It’s scandalously tight. Plus a body couldn’t take a full step in it.”

“What does that matter? You’re a lady; you’ve no need to be striding about. What’s important is how your figure will look in it.” She looked enviously at Lissa’s slender silhouette. The new Cuirasse bodice would make Corrine’s curvy figure appear plump. Lissa’s golden curls even fell naturally into the piles of ringlets drawn in the journal. Lifting the booklet, Corrine glanced into the large mirror behind the huge mahogany bar. Her brown hair fell naturally straight to her waist but with a hot iron and enough time she was sure she could recreate the style. If only she could wear the dress. “You must have this made,” she insisted.

“Where will I wear it? To do Adam’s accounts?”

Lissa did the financial accounts for her brother Adam, who owned the saloon. Being a Wednesday afternoon the place was empty. It would be a different story in a few hours when the turpentine factory and the textile mill let out their workers. Every small table would fill with hardworking, smelly men and the wooden floors would ring with the stomp of work boots. Lissa was never here when the saloon was full, since Adam kept her protected from the rougher factions of their busy little town. Ever sice their father died in the war of Northern aggression twelve years ago, leaving them alone, Adam had kept Lissa sheltered. Depending on the day, Corrine felt it was both fortunate and unfortunate she had no one to protect her in the same manner. Every painful word her father had said to her he’d said in the name of protecting and guiding her. Though she didn’t know for sure, she imagined it would be comforting to be protected in action as well as name.

“This would be perfect to receive a gentleman caller in,” she said. “It’s attractive and yet a skirt that tight will prevent a man from taking liberties.”

A pink flush suffused Lissa’s cheeks. “You’re terrible.”

“Yes, I am.” Corrine folded open the journal and handed it over. “So you’ll have it made.”

Lissa considered the elegantly drawn figure. “I’m not sure.”

The leaded glass front door opened, spilling the blindingly bright sun of a North Carolina summer across the broad planks. Angus McCabe clomped in, a towering hulk of a man. If it weren’t for his narrow chin and thick sideburns, he’d be an attractive man. What Corrine knew of his proclivities didn’t help her opinion of him much either.

“Mr. McCabe, you know the Gilded Angel doesn’t open for another two hours.” Lissa set down the pamphlet and moved toward him.

“I ain’t here for a drink. I saw Corrine come in.” Easily, he looked at Corrine around Lissa’s golden head. “We got an appointment tonight?”

Corrine’s shoulder blades drew together. Discussing this in front of Lissa was distasteful. Still, business was business and the younger woman already knew what she did. “I understand you had a balance with Madame Adrianna that needed to be addressed,” Corrine said carefully. It wouldn’t do to needlessly offend McCabe. He paid a pretty penny to be indulged.

“I done paid it.” A fat stubby finger dug in his ear. For what, Corrine had no idea. “You’re mine tonight, whore.”

“Don’t you speak to her like that!” Lissa’s voice was tremulous.

“It’s what she is.” His fish lips pulled back in a lascivious grin. “Everyone’s wondering when you’re gonna follow in her footsteps. Your brother won’t be around to protect you forever.”

“But I am here now.”

Whirling, Corrine saw Adam poised on the bottom step of the stairs that led up to private gambling rooms. Even though he was as large a man as McCabe, Adam had managed to sneak up on them all, moving as silently as any predator. Gaslight gleamed on his blond hair and high cheekbones drew his face into stark planes. All that was missing was a fiery sword and he’d look like an avenging angel. Eyeing his suit jacket, buttoned only at the top to show off his black and red vest, Corrine reconsidered. It was unlikely angels dressed as finely as Adam.

“It’s a bad decision on your part to speak poorly of either of these ladies,” he said as he advanced on the small group.

“That one ain’t no lady.” McCabe gestured toward Corrine with a tip of his chin. His bushy eyebrows waggled like spring caterpillars. “I ‘spect you know first hand.”

A blur of motion ended with Adam twisting McCabe’s arm up his back like a chicken wing. A few steps propelled the oaf out the door and a shove tumbled him down the stairs. McCabe’s arms pin wheeled and grabbed onto the slender wheel of a buggy parked in the street. Lissa and Corrine trailed the scuffle onto the porch. “Don’t come back,” Adam growled. “Stay out of my place. Six months, or whenever you learn how to speak to a lady.” He set his feet apart and planted his hands on his waist. “And if you ever come near my sister again, I’ll rip your god-”

Corrine stepped forward and set a hand on Adam’s arm. He vibrated with anger but the light weight of her fingers calmed him. Her voice was low as she gently chastised him.

“You’re making a scene.” She tipped her head at Agnes and Ethel Wilkes. They were in the buggy McCabe had latched onto. Agnes watched with wide eyes but Ethel had a smirk on her skinny face. Adam wanted to groan. He’d acted like an ass. He flicked a gaze from Lissa to Corrine. Between the two of them, they managed to create enough talk of their own. It was bad enough he was a saloon owner and a gambler; he didn’t need to add any more trouble.

He took a deep breath, let his shoulders relax and started to turn away. Corrine always did know what to say to ease him.

“Adam! Adam Springton!”

Shading his eyes against the harsh orange glare of the sun, Adam scanned the street for the man who called out. Another buggy was parked next to the one room post office and Jonas Wynan stood next to it. “Jonas! Get up here.”

His friend bounded up the wooden stairs and caught Adam in a brief hug. They slapped each other on the back a few times. “You finally made it,” said Adam.

“It took me a little longer than I thought to wind up my affairs.” Jonas’s bowler hat had started out black but was now grey. He looked dusty and travel worn, as well he should. The trip from Atlanta was a long one. Adam turned him toward the women who calmly observed them. “This is my sister, Phylissa and her friend Corrine McQuade. Lissa, Corrine, this is Jonas Wynan. He helped me through the big, bad city.”

Corrine held out her hand and Jonas shook it briefly before turning to Lissa. Phylissa gracefully stretched out her hand and Jonas took it. He sketched a small bow. “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“Like wise, sir. Will you be in town long?”

“I should hope so,” said Adam jovially. “I just bought the man a house.”

“Pardon?” Lissa said, looking from Jonas to Adam.

Jonas smiled briefly at her. “Adam was kind enough to act as my representative down here.”

“I did pick the house for you though. It’s a few miles out of town, a big old thing.”

“Oh, Adam, you didn’t!” Lissa exclaimed. “Not the McCabe place?”

“Why not? It’s in good repair, a nice spread. And I already sent Mrs. Jenkins out with her daughter to clean it up.” Adam trailed off, his brows pulling together. Sweet angels in heaven, Jonas was still holding Lissa’s hand. And Lissa simply stood there, allowing him to do it. The headstrong girl had such a talent for getting herself in trouble. Adam stilled. Maybe, just maybe, this could be the answer to at least one of Adam’s problems. If Lissa got herself married off, he wouldn’t have to worry about her so much. And wouldn’t have to curtail his own activities. His glance slid to Corrine, who stood quietly to the side.

Jonas dropped Lissa’s hand like a phosphorus match about to burn down. A muscle ticked in his jaw.

“Besides,” Adam slowly resumed. “It was a great deal since they defaulted on the mortgage after their father died.” Knowing Lissa, she wouldn’t allow him to bully her into anything, even if he wanted to. He wouldn’t have much room to maneuver. At best he’d be able to bring them into proximity. He looked again at Lissa’s hand. Somehow he thought that might be enough.

“I shouldn’t like to take advantage of a family that’s down on their luck,” said Jonas.

Lissa shook her head. “There’s no taking advantage of the McCabes. They’re seven legs of walking trouble.”

“Seven?” Jonas echoed.

“Yes.” She looked at him with a mischievous twinkle. “There’s four of them but the youngest lost a leg when it was crushed by a bull.”

“But that’s terrible.”

“It’s hard to feel much sympathy. He was trying to steal the bull at the time.”

Adam glanced to Corrine, expecting her to pipe in with one of her witty observations. It was easy to forget how easily she withdrew when meeting new people. Understandable, considering her profession. She was always perfectly polite with strangers but her smiles were simply laid on top of her face, with no connection to her real emotions. “So!” Adam clapped his hands. “Jonas, let’s get you out to your new place. Lissa, keep an eye on things until I get back.”

She cocked one gracefully arched eyebrow. “I always do.”

Adam tipped his hat to his sister and Corrine, set a hand on Jonas’ shoulder, and led the other man down into the street. Halfway down the steps, Adam heard Lissa say, “I do believe I’ll need that dress”

Corrine’s warm chuckle followed. A rarity; her laugh was more beautiful for how seldom it was heard.

Stay tuned next week for Chapter Two…

___________________________________________

Lorelie Brown is a goddess walking among us. She works for the US Government and is married to a paratrooper who’s very stingy with his X chromosomes. As a result, they’re trying to turn three hellions into well behaved little boys. She can order a beer in five languages and is one of those annoying people who always win at Trivial Pursuit.

Occasionally she even remembers to move the laundry from the washer to the dryer.

This an original story given generously to us by Lorelie Brown. DO NOT post any part of this story on your site without attribution to Lorelie or a holla-back at her site. That’s not cool. Always give credit where credit is due, yo.

Note: Hey, other writer-types, do you want to contribute to The Serial? If so, email me and I’ll hook you up, yo.

Till, then… Love, peace, and snarkage, my babies. Peace!

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