Trailer Park Trash & Vampires Excerpt: Meet Lynne Shelby

Let's cut right to the chase.  I'm a fan of girl power, and there are some strong female characters in my book.  However, it's not like you can title your novel Trailer Park Trash & Vampires without inviting a tramp or two to the party.  With that said, I would like to introduce you to Lynne Shelby. 

     The following scene takes place at Sloggins Recreational Center, a local hotspot where the misfits from Ryker's Trailer Park and the rich kids from The Glen (a posh retirement community located nearby) gather for a dip in the swimming pool.  It's a hot summer day and the place is packed, but Lynne Shelby is about to hit the scene and she's eager to add some drama to the proceedings.   

Trailer Park Trash & Vampires Excerpt: Meet Lynne Shelby

 (from Chapter 1: Brilliant Summer Day)

After she claimed a lawn chair with a towel, Lynne Shelby slipped out of her shorts.  Her nails were painted black so they would match her miniscule bikini.  She peeled off her shirt and a kid wearing red swimming trunks actually gasped.  The exercise was really paying off.  She was willing to bet that no one here could even come close to guessing her age.

“Can you believe that?”  An old hag wearing a straw hat big enough to pass for a modest sombrero griped loudly.

“Senile old bitty,” Lynne Shelby hissed, making sure that her voice was every bit as loud.  She was hoping that her would-be adversary would say something back.  Lynne remained tense for the better part of a minute, her eyes blazing with primal heat.  Nothing would be better than a confrontation.  She absolutely thrived on being the center of attention. 

Alas, there was no fight in the older woman.  Aware that she was being baited, she wisely decided to say no more.

Lynne studied her surroundings, anxious to discover someone looking at her.  She was wearing one of her slightest swimsuits, a scant bikini with a Brazilian-cut bottom that left most of her round ass exposed to the world.  Lynne Shelby was quite proud of what the good lord had given her.  She had the kind of body that men wanted and she knew it. 

She applied plenty of lotion so that her tan skin glistened in the burning sun.  Yearning to feel eyes raking her over, she began to stretch provocatively.    A smile spread across her lips as she caught some of the kids from The Glen openly ogling her.  She pretended to make adjustments to her top while in reality she was merely pressing her breasts together to make her cleavage appear more significant. 

“Oh my,” the woman who had spoke out earlier groaned.  “Would ya just look at that?  This ain’t a strip club, is it?”  As she shook her head in disgust there came a strong gust of wind and she had to grab her big hat to keep it from being blown off.

Her short brown hair whipping about in the sudden breeze, Lynne moistened her lips with her tongue and gave the boys a knowing wink.  She knew what they would be thinking about later when they were lying in bed.  The thought of what they would do to themselves with her body in mind brought a fierce gush of warmth between her thighs.

She was 39, and in less than two months she would be 40, but she could still turn any man’s head, whether he was 15 or 55.

She was fine.  It wasn’t easy to keep a flat stomach and a firm ass.  Lynne ran two miles on a daily basis and worked out for forty-five minutes or longer at least four days a week.  It was hard work, but she wanted men to want her.

Men were all that mattered, men like Lennie Prescott, . . . she’d love to bring him home for the night.  He was getting big, but she knew he could give her a ride.  For some reason she couldn’t comprehend, as of yet, she had been unable to snare him.  She had certainly tried.  Her trailer was on Lot 7, just behind his camper.

Okay, maybe the fact that he lived in a camper was a bit of a turn-off, but aside from that, Lennie Prescott was all man.  She had been hanging out in enough bars in Bisby and Miller a few years ago to catch glimpses of him playing basketball on the television, and that alone afforded him more celebrity than anyone else in Little Drop.

She had flaunted her wares enough when he was around, but he hadn’t copped to it thus far.  She was spending a lot more time lying out in the sun than was necessary, and whenever he was outside she was always finding some reason to bend over.  He didn’t seem to be interested in anything other than drinking.

Maybe he was just too drunk to respond properly. 

Maybe he was just going to take a little more work to get started.  All men started differently but finished the same.

After thinking it over for a moment, Lynne decided that she was just going to have to be a little more forward with Mr. Prescott.  The feisty cougar grinned as she basked in the blazing heat, rubbing her delicate feet together and scanning the poolside, always conscious of the hungry stares she attracted.

“Excuse me,” she said to a teenage boy with pale skin that was already starting to burn.  “Would you mind putting a little more lotion on my back?”

“Really?”  He asked eagerly, blushing furiously.

“Really,” Lynne said. 

She allowed him to rub more lotion on her legs as well, smiling broadly as the woman in the straw hat wondered if someone should call the police.  When the teenage boy’s erection nudged her left foot as he worked on her calves, she briefly caressed the small bulge in his baggy swimming trucks with her heel.  When he finished, he sat beside her for at least five minutes before he dared to stand and depart, and she smiled the whole time, chatting amicably about nothing in particular.

It was good to be wanted.  For Lynne Shelby, little else mattered.