Saturday Story 2024 – Week 42 (Lady of Illusions)
We have a new complete story on my Patreon. Synopsis below:
Deborah Wilcox attends an underground auction where the last Whisperer is being sold, a translucent stone with the power to create vivid illusions.
This is the fifth tale in The Whisperer’s Saga, following Granny’s Gift, Granny’s Curse, Obfuscation, and Tempus Nihil Est. There will be a sixth tale to conclude Deborah’s story. I’m hoping to have it posted here before the end of the year.
To read this story before anyone else, head over to my Patreon page and become Spell… B-O-U-N-D, too. The minimum pledge for this type of early access is $5 per month.
A small excerpt is available below:
https://www.patreon.com/posts/114329309
Deborah Wilcox descended a steep flight of stairs bathed in deep red fluorescent lights. To an outsider, it almost looked like she was about to enter a portal to Hell, but it was nothing as dramatic as that. Hell wasn’t a real place, only a concept designed to scare people and keep them under control. She knew a lot about control and her knowledge continued to grow day after day.
She wasn’t alone. Two security guards with square jaws and square shoulders accompanied her at all times, their expressionless faces focused only on protecting their lady. The Whisperer’s influence had gotten to them, turning their job into a visceral obligation from which there was no escape. They had no memories of ever doing anything except being there for her, and that’s how she wanted them. Good thralls needed no distractions.
Deborah was dressed to impress, decked in leather and lace from head to toe. The black sheen coupled with the delicate transparencies made her figure even more appealing than usual. The mid-length skirt was a bit too tight but she could bear the discomfort for a while. The stairs didn’t agree with her seven-inch stilettos, though. She placed one foot in front of the other and navigated the tricky situation with unperturbed calm until she reached a flat surface again and looked at the metal gate in front of her.
Her trips had brought her to London this time around, to an old subway station – or Underground, as they liked to call it – reconverted into a haven of shady enterprises. The auction that was about to take place promised his participants wonders of the natural and supernatural realm, rare commodities that would look good in any private collection. A vision had told her that the last of the mystical stones could be found there and once the entire set was in her possession, no one would dare to go against her wishes again.
(…)
Should you decide to join this cause, your support will help make sure this site thrives and that more and more content is produced for you on a daily basis. Thanks.
