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Subjects: Lesbian Adventure Club, #17

Subjects: Lesbian Adventure Club, #17

Subjects: Lesbian Adventure Club, #17

136 pages
7 hours
Aug 22, 2019


Kate and Claudia are sick and tired of LAC weekends sending them through an emotional wringer. As this month's hostesses, they have vowed to avoid their typical wussy ways and do nothing less than mess with the crew. Can they pull it off, or is the deck stacked against them?

Lesbian Adventure Club, Book 17

Approximate word count: 33,000

Aug 22, 2019

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Subjects - Rosalyn Wraight


Chapter 1

Ba-doom. Ba-doom. Ba-doom. Ba-doom. Ba-doom. Fwip.

Ba-doom. Ba-doom. Ba-doom. Ba-doom. Ba-doom. Fwip.

Ba-doom. Ba-doom. Ba-doom. Ba-doom. Ba-doom. Fwip.

Rather calmly, I paced. Okay, calmly didn’t exactly go well with paced, but still.

I glanced to the floor, wondering if I had worn a path between the dining room window and the long pane of glass next to the front door. I hadn’t.

My eyes then sped to the clock on the kitchen wall: 5:47. Perhaps I hadn’t had enough time to wear a path, and perhaps I wouldn’t. Time was quickly running out.

See, my favorite project manager had a big project deadline of five o’clock yesterday, and in a very rare occurrence, she and her team had missed it. Seriously, the anal-retentive one and her bullwhip had missed a deadline. She worked late, arriving home at nearly nine-thirty. Then, she headed back to the office at three-thirty this morning, with the solemn belief and half-promise that she’d be home by six, the exact time she and I were supposed to leave for the place where we’d be hosting the Lesbian Adventure Club weekend.

Ba-doom. Ba-doom. Ba-doom. Ba-doom. Ba-doom. Fwip.

Ba-doom. Ba-doom. Ba-doom. Ba-doom. Ba-doom. Fwip.

Ba-doom. Ba-doom. Ba-doom. Ba-doom. Ba-doom. Fwip.

On second thought, maybe I would have time to wear a path. A lot of varnish and rug fibers could be ground down in thirteen minutes. Especially with nothing left to do. The house was ready to be abandoned until tomorrow. I had a thermos of coffee and one of hot water sitting next to the door. The car was packed, including the shitload of groceries I bought last night. Hell, I had even peed three hundred times. No, there was nothing left to do but pace.

Ba-doom. Ba-doom. Ba-doom. Ba-doom. Ba-doom. Fwip.

Ba-doom. Ba-doom. Ba-doom. Ba-doom. Ba-doom. Fwip.

Ba-doom. Ba-doom. Ba-doom. Ba-doom. Ba-doom. Fwip.

Truth be told, and probably to know one’s surprise, I did not want to head out that door and down the road without her. Suddenly, eight people I loved with all my heart seemed like intimidating strangers. To be solely in charge for even a short time scared the frickin’ bejeebers out of me. And worse yet, Claudia and I decided that we’d had it with the emotional crap we endured last time with the damn storytelling, and so, our usual wussy nice ways as hostesses weren’t even considered. We had vowed to mess with and not be messed with this time. With her by my side, messing with them would have been difficult enough. Alone...

Ba-doom. Ba-doom. Ba-doom. Ba-doom. Ba-doom. Fwip.

Ba-doom. Ba-doom. Ba-doom. Ba-doom. Ba-doom. Fwip.

Ba-doom. Ba-doom. Ba-doom. Ba—

My cell phone released a familiar sound, and I cursed. My gut said she was not calling to impart good news—or calling from the driveway.

Hi, Kate, she greeted, and her tone told me my gut was on the money. We’re still not done. I think you’ll have to get started without me. I’ll get there when I can.

Shit! Do you want me to call everybody and cancel? They’ll understand. That probably sounded more self-serving than it actually was. I honestly wasn’t looking simply to get myself off the hook. This weekend was hers, too, and I would never have gone to anyone else’s weekend without her. Why the hell would I to our own? Plus, I trusted everyone else would bemoan her absence as well.

She replied, I still have every reason to believe we’ll be done this morning and that I’ll be there by the time they arrive. Let’s just go with that. Sound like a plan? Without giving me a chance to respond, she said, Just hit Road Swill on the way out of town and enjoy the drive.

I couldn’t help asking, And what if you’re not done in time?

I will be! The team knows I have important plans for the weekend, she assured. They’re busting their butts so we can get out of here.

Regardless of my doubts—on this, the second passing of a deadline, I assumed her hopeful tone, Okay, then I’ll get everything set up before you all get there.

She apologized for sticking me with the work, and I told her it was no big deal. It wasn’t. Her absence bothered me, certainly not the work.

Then, she said, Maybe you should call Laura. I’d bet she’d be happy to drive up with you and give you a hand. Plus, that place might be creepy all alone.

I’m fine, I assured. Any of them ahead of the preordained time of ten o’clock would not make me feel any more confident. I’ll take care of it. You just worry about getting out of work. 

We exchanged the partnerly be-carefuls and I-love-yous, and then, she concluded, Go, honey, and use the GPS, and remember this is our chance at payback. Give ‘em hell, Kate! Mess with them!

That made me laugh, and the next ba-dooms took me and the thermoses out the door and to my car.

As I started the engine, I switched on the little GPS unit. While I despised being told what to do while I was driving, I found myself glad to have it, although I’d probably never admit it to her. We had gotten lost last time even with the damn thing so I admittedly needed all the guidance I could get.

Following the project manager’s instructions, I aimed the car for Road Swill, and by the time I got there, I was ready to reach into the GPS and de-voicebox the moron chick in there telling me to frickin’ turn around because I had veered off course. Apparently, she was not a coffee lover, and that gave me one more reason to dislike her.

Many swearword-filled blocks later, she calmed the hell down, and I was on my way.

Where? you ask. Okay, that seems a reasonable question. I was on my way into the frickin’ boondocks.

See, someone Claudia works with owns a hunting cabin about an hour from Granton. Before we had known about the tiny cabins at Drixel’s that Ginny and Kris used last time, we had already made this deal. We traded a weekend’s use of the cabin for cleaning and wood splitting. Having already done the cleaning and part of the lumberjacking, we were not about to back out just because it seemed too similar to the last LAC weekend. Besides, this was different. It wasn’t quite as much like roughing it, but it certainly came nowhere near the comforts of Crappie Cabin. It was a hunting cabin: used for sleeping, having coffee before the sun came up, and having beer after the sun went down. You didn’t require more. Unless, of course, you were the members of the Lesbian Adventure Club who would not be spending the day sneaking through the forest like Elmer Fudd. We had needs, and I was on my way to make sure at least some of them would be met.

I had just left the city limits when my cell phone rang. As soon as I spied Laura’s name on the little screen, I assumed Claudia had called her to plead my case.

Hey, Sutter, where are you?

Driving, I cautiously replied, figuring the cop would yell at me for not having two hands on the wheel.

I’m aware of that, she said. "But where are you? Where exactly?"

I just passed the mall, I answered, and, hey, I was wondering why the Granton Police Department can’t do something about the traffic out there. It’s an accident waiting to happen.

We like it that way, Sutter.

"Like it? How the hell can you like it that way?"

If everyone’s stuck in traffic by the mall, no one is out robbing banks. She made some sound to insinuate that I should have known that, and then, she asked, Why don’t you come and get me? I’ll ride over there with you.

Did Claudia put you up to this?

No, she replied with a laugh. Holly did, actually. She just called your better half and found out about her deal with work. Holly volunteered my services.

Thanks for the offer—both of you, I said, but I can handle it. I’m more worried that Claudia’s not going to get out of work before dark.

Want me to stay home instead of going with Ginny and Kris? I’ll wait for Claudia and ride up with her.

I found that offer very tempting, but it seemed too iffy to be that selfish. "Would you or Holly just give Claudia a call before you leave and see what the deal is? If she hasn’t left by then. Or maybe drive back to Granton with me to get her if she’s stuck there until after dark?"

Yes on both counts, she said. In the meantime, drive like there’s a cop behind you, and call me when you get there. Claudia will be pissed if something happens to you, and we’ll both help you make sure nothing happens to her.

I thanked her and felt more relaxed. I sipped my Road Swill, drove better than usual, and marveled at the brilliant colors mid-October had brought to the trees.

Eventually, the GPS chick got me to the point where I remembered her becoming spatially challenged last time. I shut her the hell off and hoped my hands on the wheel had a body memory of the winding I had done to get us to the cabin.

Remarkably, I pulled it off without again ending up in the strange little town that consisted solely of a convenience store and an antique shop. The reporter I was wanted to know where the hell all the antiques came from when the population seemed to be two.

After threading my car through the overgrown driveway, I neared the cabin. This same reporter would have had a hell of a time describing the place. To me, it

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