Tuesday, 8 February 2011

The Colour of Laurita Miller - February Femme Fatale

February Femmes Fatales - February 8th

I believe I first crossed fair and floral paths with today's February Femme Fatale Laurita Miller over at The Not, Michael Solender's marvellous blog. We've also had words on The Six Sentences Network and The New Flesh.

Her writing is beautiful yet wistful, dark and mischievous - what more could we want?

But Laurita isn't just a fine mistress of the pen, she is also a very brave woman who I truly admire. On March 12th Laurita is having her head shaved to raise funds for Young Adult Cancer Canada. She has already significantly supassed her $2,000 goal and donations continue to come in. What a big-hearted way to raise awareness. All the best of luck, Laurita.

Read more about Laurita's Shave for the Brave...

And now, you really are in for a surprise if you go into the woods tonight. Forget lions and tigers and bears, oh my - Red is made of far darker things.

Red by Laurita Miller

He wouldn’t have long to wait. He knew her schedule well. Every evening at eight-fifteen she walked into the woods with her picnic basket. Every evening at nine she walked out, licking her lips and her fingers. This evening, he would be the one to enjoy her goodies.

He waited patiently until he could see her cloak, a smear of red through the shadows and the trees. The scent was delicious and it pulled him from his hiding place.

She turned only her eyes toward him as she passed, offered a shy smile, and clutched her basket closer. Her hair fell in tangles, dark slashes against the vivid red cloak.

He breathed deeply, absorbing the delectable subtleties of her scent. His mouth watered. He stepped forward and gently placed his hand upon her arm.

“Well, well. You must be Little Red Riding Hood.” His gaze traveled from her face to the large basket on her arm. So many luscious temptations in one night.

She laughed, a low, throaty sound, unexpected and unwelcome. Distressed, the crows above flapped away. Their calls echoed through the pines, and then there was silence.

“No.” She snarled and turned to him. Sharp fangs gleamed as she licked her lips.

“I’m the big bad wolf.” 

Laurita Miller enjoys writing in the dark and walking through revolving doors. Her work has been featured at Gloom Cupboard, Six Sentences, Flashes in the Dark, The New Flesh, Yellow Mama and has appeared in several anthologies. She blogs here: http://ringkeeper.blogspot.com/

Lily Childs is a writer of horror, esoteric, mystery and chilling fiction.

If you see her dancing outside in a thunder storm - don't try to bring her in. She's safe.