Lucy Lacemaker Novels & Stories

“In one of my previous lives, I worked at a fabric factory. On the same night that Lucifer murdered me, a fire started in the factory and killed five women. One of them was Lana.” She lifts another sheet. This one is an old journal entry that chronicles several deaths that occurred during the middle ages. “In this one, I was a servant girl at a castle. After I recalled the name of the castle, I researched and found out that the night after Lucifer murdered me, one of the other servant girls was beaten and raped by a group of marauders. During that life, I shared a room with two chambermaids. One of them was Lana, and the other one was Bree. Lana was the one that was killed.”

Sure, it was made with see-through lace, but all the other women interviewing for this job had started out in G-strings and tiny bras that barely covered their nipples. The outfit was so pink that it made him wince. And it looked like it was made of several different pieces of material sown together. “She’s so far out of her fucking depth. What a joke,” Lucy said snidely as she sat across from him in the booth. Fuck. Why had he kept Lucy on? Because other than being a total cow, she hadn’t given him a reason to fire her. And if he got rid of her, he’d need to find someone to replace her. Which meant taking on more responsibilities until he did.

Rex said making me smirk as I also don't like the idea but in my case I have to deal with it. I heard tha crack of a door upstairs as footsteps on the stairs draw closer making me turn my head towards the stairs only to see Lucy,my goddamn mate in crop top with jeans shorts. Fuck these can't be happening."Maybe she is a friend of my soon to be sister and is just visiting."I thought praying to the moon goddess that it should be the case but guess she wants to punish me. "Come here Lucy, meet Jacob and his son caspien."Jane said."Hi"was all Lucy said before settling herself in the chair beside mine.Sadness flashed in the eyes of Jane but she quickly masked it with a smile as she introduce Lucy

I had ten. Lucy had gotten into the habit of wearing the little smock. It was one of my old aprons, a cotton child-sized one I had bought years ago for a school project and tucked away in the supply closet. She had found it two weeks ago and decided it was perfect for studio work, as she now called the evenings we spent painting side by side at the kitchen table. She had her own space at the end of the room with her watercolors, sketchbook, and whatever she was working on. It was a project that changed every time and currently consisted of an ambitious series depicting various species of sea animals in what she described as their natural emotional states.