GGS: Good Gaelic Souls A Biker Saga (G.G.S)

GGS: Good Gaelic Souls A Biker Saga (G.G.S) by Pamela Murdaugh Smith Read Free Book Online Page B

Book: GGS: Good Gaelic Souls A Biker Saga (G.G.S) by Pamela Murdaugh Smith Read Free Book Online
Authors: Pamela Murdaugh Smith
mirror, she briefly wished once again that she was taller, sexier and bigger in the chest. Sighing, she reconcilled herself with the knowledge that if she were, the world would never be able to live with her. She moved away from her reflection. She much preferred to think of herself the way that Strangler made her feel that she looked, rather than dwell on what the mirror had to say about it.
    Naked and dripping, she went to the table and made herself another drink. Opening the top drawers of the dresser, she found the neatly folded clothes that had been brought here for her stay. "For fucks sake," she whispered, "Looks like I'll need to wash my jeans today." She found two pair of shorts, her bathing suit, a halter top, a tank top and two pair of panties. Slipping on the bathing suit top and a clean pair of cut-off's, she walked over to the sliding glass door.
    Opening the curtains so that she could see the ocean, she looked to see what time it was. The little digital clock on the bed table between the beds, read 4:59 p.m. "Happy Hour" she thought, and grabbed her brush, headeding back to the bathroom. Maybe she would run into someone she knew and enjoy some idle chatter. She brushed out her hair, slipped on her sandles and walked down to the motel bar.
    As she sat down, she asked the bartender for a large plastic cup and instructed her on how to make a whiskeypop. Paying for her refreshment, she left a generous tip and turned to scan the the room. "Bloody hell," she thought, "Everybody's a fucking tourist." It wasn't hard to tell. They all wore bright hawiaan style shirts and bermuda shorts. Worse still, was the solid white  clothing or some fug-ugly floral nightmare. "Fuck me," she thought, as a middle-aged man came towards her. "I am so not in the mood for this." He approached her with a smile and the inevitable, "What brings you here, pretty lady" ice-breaker. "Death." Retorted Stax without smiling. She picked up her drink, leaving him standing there shell shocked, as she took her heavy heart and walked out the door.
    Stax headed for the beach, she needed to think. Walking past the pool, making her way down the wooden steps and onto the sand, she walked straight out into the water. As the ocean hugged her lower body, she held her drink up, out of reach of the waves that were lapping at her ass, and she began to sing. To her, it was as close to praying that she would ever get. It was her gift to nature, and since she had a good singing voice, she wasn't at all intimated by anyone hearing her ritual. Frankly, she didn't give a shit what people thought of her, she never had. She could feel the power of the ocean rocking her as she sang. When she felt something brush her leg, she didn't flinch, she sang, as she watched the sun lowering itself towards the horizon, she sang.
    She felt that the world itself must have a since of humour, and that the words of this song would never be lost on her ocean mother. In fact, there were many times through the years, that Stax had recieved a special gift after she sang to her. Once, right after she had finished her song, she looked down at her feet and the waves had floated a perfectly shaped Sand-Dollar to her feet, the water quickly receded, leaving it there just for her. Another time, she had finished her song and began a short walk along the shore, and approximately ten feet from where she had stood singing, lay a perfect piece of driftwood. She imagined it was from an island, carried up by a recent storm. It was beautiful, covered with black and bright orange muscles, and so water-logged that if Serenity hadn't been with her that day to help, she would never had been able to get it back to her room.  It was meant for her, she felt it in her soul. Several other times this 'gifting' had occured and she felt a spiritual bond between her and the ocean, that could not be broken by time or space. No matter how far or how long she was away from the shore, the ocean was with her, silently

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