Hump Day Kick Start – Sexy Silent Edition

Song of the day: Stay Vicious by The Gaslight Anthem

Hump Day Kick Start – for your muse, a writing picture prompt, or just a visual treat.

mario blanco dont speak

 

Shhh… I won’t kiss and tell. Maybe.

Today’s prompt wants you quiet. Why?  Who is he? Did you just witness him assassinate someone? Is he the grim reaper come to take you? Maybe he is a vampire slayer tempering your fears. A  beast that morphs into a sexy man and appears when summoned to fulfill wild fantasies at witching hours?

What do you think? Let me hear from you.

16 Responses to Hump Day Kick Start – Sexy Silent Edition

  1. OK! Now we’re talkin’! This guy so floats my boat. Dark. Sexy. And full of secrets.

    Like

  2. jbrayweber says:

    Floats my boat, too, Stacey. And he can float it anywhere he chooses.

    Like

  3. lorettawheeler says:

    He stepped toward me, finger placed on his mouth, signaling my silence. Behind him, I saw a woman, dead I assumed, since there was a stake through her heart. Around her, others lay supine on top of concrete graves.
    I shook my head in a silent denial, unable to accept what I was seeing. This was crazy. This only happened in movies, everyone knew that…what was this guy? A New Age psychopath leaving his calling card?

    Like

  4. jbrayweber says:

    Oohhhh…spooky. Just the way I like it, Loretta.

    Like

  5. Will Graham says:

    Hmmmm…. I got nothin’ today….. Hmmmmm…….

    Like

  6. jbrayweber says:

    That’s okay, Will. I got plenty. 😉

    Like

  7. Sarah Andre says:

    Oh Will! You’re a forensic computer expert. CLEARLY this man is trying to signal you to be quiet about SOMETHING.

    Like

  8. jeff7salter says:

    Hmm. Okay, here’s his story:

    When Seymour Glick approached lovely Vanessa, he seemed darkly mysterious, but she soon learned the immediate cause of his moody intensity.
    “Hey, girl, can you help me with this?”
    “What’s the problem, Seymour?” replied Vanessa.
    “Can’t get the grape jelly open.”
    “YOU? A big strong guy… can’t open a jelly jar?”
    Seymour growled. “I can’t get this dang glove off my hand. It’s chained to my wrist and I lost the key.”
    “So, Seymour,” she said playfully, “How badly do you want that grape jelly?”

    Like

  9. jbrayweber says:

    I detect a bit of playful torture, Jeff. I’m a fan of torture.

    Like

  10. jbrayweber says:

    Oh… and he doesn’t even remotely look like a Seymour. Ha!

    Like

  11. Ruth kenjura says:

    Okay, so here’s my try–

    She was there. Fear poured from her eyes, along with a plea. Save me. Save me. He could only try, if he failed, they would both die. Her face relaxed. Her mouth moved. Silence, he could only send the message with a gesture. Silence or the others will hear. Blood dripped from the gash at her neck, her hair ripped from the right side of her head lay in a thick, red puddle. He said a prayer as he moved toward her. Saving her was his only salvation.

    Like

  12. jbrayweber says:

    I…LOVE…this, Ruth. Perfect for my imagination and the Halloween theme.

    Like

  13. “Sshhh. Don’t tell. My sister hates it when I use her curling iron.”

    Like

  14. jbrayweber says:

    HAHAHA. Nice, Kristen.

    Like

  15. Sarah Andre says:

    Will try my best, but evidently MUSE stayed behind (silent and unforgiving) in Houston.
    *************

    Kimberly kissed the cool slate of her dead lover’s headstone and carefully laid a white rose at its base. She straightened in the full moonlight fighting back tears. Ray had died a year ago tonight; performing a death-defying magic trick broadcast around the nation. Such a freak accident. Such a horrific tragedy.

    Her family and friends had consoled her for months but then gently urged her to move on…only she couldn’t. Her life was empty without his charm and sensuality. She missed the little things like how he brought her coffee in bed each morning. How he could flick his wrist and a white rose would appear…anytime, anywhere. And she ached for the bigger things, like his…er…wand. And how he spent hours exploring her body while she begged him for release.

    She pressed her trembling lips together as she made her way down the silent cemetery path. Gravestones loomed on either side, a rigid army of granite and grief.

    Her thoughts were so turned inward that it startled her to suddenly realize the mist in the chilly air when she’d arrived had now turned to a thick fog. Hardly able to see she stretched her hands out in front of her, moving slowly, with gathering fear. How would she find her way out of the cemetery? Even the full moon had vanished.

    The only sounds in this surreal atmosphere were her harsh breath and the far away gurgle of a splashing fountain. Moving cautiously toward the tinkling water was the right choice…the fog lightened with each step. Before long, in the lingering wisps of mist she stood before a massive, black marble fountain–probably two stories high. As the full moonbeams poured back down on her she saw the stunningly intricate angels carved along each tier, their faces etched in glory and happiness and serenity. This was truly the most beautiful fountain she’d ever seen.

    On a whim she dug into her pocket and pulled out the penny she always kept there. The penny Ray had conjured from the foam in her café latte on their first date. It had never left her being since. But it belonged to this majestic fountain; Ray the man and the magician would have loved to know part of him remained here.

    Kimberley kissed the penny, squeezed it and flung it into the depths of the black marble fountain. “I wish that one day I will see you again, Ray,” she whispered.

    Instantly a lightness stole over her. She breathed deeply and turned to go. Looming in front of her, as real as any human, was Ray. Even wearing the lucky bracelet she’d given him the night of his final feat (which had turned out not to be lucky after all.)

    It couldn’t be. She blinked and opened her mouth. Maybe to scream, maybe to whisper his name. She’d never know because he put a finger to his lips, his eyes warning her that uttering a sound would break this magical spell. Keeping his finger in place he stepped back, the mist growing instantly heavier and beginning to shroud him. She couldn’t lose him again! Her wish had come true and she wouldn’t question her luck or this magic. She silently followed him into the thick, gloomy fog.

    ***************Happy Halloween, everyone!

    Like

  16. jbrayweber says:

    This. This is amazing, Sarah. You hit all the right spots—sexiness, mystery, spookiness—all while leaving the reader with ambiguity of what happened next. *love*

    Like

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