Cancao do Amor (eBook)

40 pages | eBook | 6x9"
Date of publication: 05/06/2016
  • ISBN: 978-1-943528-49-3
  • Model: 7556 words

Fireborn Publishing Main Page

Heat Rating: 1 Flame


The moment Phoebe hears Arsenio sing, she is drawn to him. However, Arsenio has a secret, and when the darker side of his nature comes to the fore, Phoebe must make a difficult choice.




Phoebe adjusted her grip on the five carrier bags as she fumbled the key into the lock. She kicked the door open, cringing when it slammed back against the wall. Then she shuffled inside and hoisted the bags onto the kitchen worktop. She was running late. A glance at the clock revealed she had only half an hour in which to unpack her groceries and get ready before Kate arrived to pick her up for their girls' night out.

She still wasn't sure why she'd agreed to the evening's entertainment; she only knew her resistance crumbled in light of Kate's entreaties. Even so, a strip show was not, and never would be, top on her list of things to do on a Saturday night. She wasn't a prude, but she was easily embarrassed. They'd not even left and already she flushed at the thought of men taking off their clothes in front of her. She'd not seen a naked man--aside from in some French films--since Paul left nine months ago.

She paused and grimaced at the memory. Paul. She had honestly thought he was the one. So much so, she'd been oblivious to the lying and the cheating until the very end. She was glad he had confessed before leaving; it had helped to soften the blow. However, since that time, she had put all thoughts of another relationship--and men in general--far from her mind. One of the reasons tonight was not going to be easy.

The groceries proved a welcome distraction and she busied herself storing them away in cupboards, freezer, and fridge. Once that was done, she moved into the bedroom and sought something suitable to wear. Kate's instructions said "sexy". That was fine for Kate, who could have been a model, but Phoebe was less certain. In the end, she settled on black boots, jeans, and a glittery top she'd bought for a Christmas party one year and never worn.

She was putting the finishing touches to her light smattering of makeup when the doorbell rang. She set down her brush and went to answer it.

"Are you ready?" Kate bustled in, looking stunning in a crimson dress that plunged both front and back. She glanced at Phoebe's outfit and sighed.

"I'm comfortable, Kate. Leave me be."

Kate held up her hands. "Okay, okay. I wasn't going to say anything. How you dress is up to you." She gave a broad smile. "How are you anyway? It's been an age."

"I know. That's the only reason I agreed to this."

"Come on, it'll be fun. You could do with fun. Have you dated at all since Paul left?"

Phoebe flinched. "I don't have time for that right now. I have work and--"

Kate grasped her hands and looked into her eyes. "Phoebe, honey, there's always time for love. The longer you wait, the harder it will be to trust again."

"Soon, Kate." She extricated herself from Kate's hold. "I really am busy right now, is all. Talking of which, shouldn't we be going?"

"Damn, you're right. We don't want to miss the opening act."

Missing one of the numbers didn't sound so bad to Phoebe, but she held her tongue, grabbed her handbag from the chair, and followed Kate out, bracing herself for the hours ahead.


The club was doing roaring trade. It seemed they had done well to purchase their tickets in advance, for the queue for on-the-spot sales stretched out the door. They passed those waiting, waved their passes at the bouncer, and headed inside. It was the sort of place Phoebe hated--music blared so loud she could scarce hear herself think, the press of bodies made her claustrophobic, and the smoky haze ensured she could not see more than a few meters in any direction. However, she had promised Kate, and her friend looked so excited Phoebe didn't have the heart to complain, forcing a smile when Kate yelled at the top of her voice that they should look for a good spot near the stage.

When the lights came on and the music changed, the air rang with screams. A troupe of dancers dressed as sailors made their way onstage and the show kicked off. The men dipped and gyrated, shedding garments as they went, much to the audience's unbridled delight. They winked, smiled, and appeared to be enjoying the attention, and Phoebe decided it wasn't as bad as she'd imagined. She'd expected it to feel sleazy, but all parties looked like they were having fun, so she relaxed and clapped along with the music as the song reached its final chorus.

"I like the one on the far left," Kate whisper-shrieked in her ear.

Phoebe followed the line of her gaze to a tall, muscled dancer with a mop of blond hair. He was certainly stunning, but not really her type. Not that any of the bodies on display were anything other than perfection. Heat rushed to her cheeks again and she lowered her gaze to the floor.

The audience exploded into applause as the number ended, and the dancers bowed and filed off the stage. The tempo changed, the lights dimmed, and Phoebe looked up to see a handsome man walk out under the spotlight. He was alone and dressed in jeans, T-shirt, and a perfectly tailored suit jacket. He held a microphone in his hand and a panama hat sat at a jaunty angle on his head. It should have been a strange look, but on him it seemed natural. Perfect. A staff member placed a stool centre stage and the man perched upon it, looking out over the audience as he raised the microphone to his lips. Then he closed his eyes and sang.

It was the most beautiful thing Phoebe had ever heard. His voice. God, his voice. Though low and soft, it rose above the background noise of the club, which seemed to fade away entirely. It was impossible to describe the sound, except to say it was angelic, otherworldly, and sublime. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end; her skin tingled; her pulse quickened. The raw emotion as he sang touched her deeper than anything she had experienced before. Though the words were not in English, she understood them in her heart and soul. It felt as if he were singing to her and her alone. Then suddenly he was.

She didn't know when it had happened; she simply came to realize his eyes were open and he was looking right at her. He held her gaze as he rose from the stool and glided to the front of the stage. She stared up at him and he stared back. He dropped to one knee and addressed the last lines of the song to her. His final note hung in the air for what felt like forever. Then there was silence.


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About Nicki J. Markus:
Fireborn Publishing Main Page

Nicki J. Markus was born in England but now lives in Adelaide, South Australia. She has loved both reading and writing from a young age and is also a keen linguist, having studied several foreign languages.

Nicki launched her writing career in 2011 and divides her efforts between MM (writing as Asta Idonea) and mainstream works (writing as Nicki J. Markus). Her stories span the genres, from paranormal to historical and from contemporary to fantasy. It just depends what story and which characters spring into her mind!

As a day job, Nicki works as a freelance editor and proofreader, and in her spare time she enjoys music, theatre, cinema, photography, and sketching. She also loves history, folklore and mythology, pen-palling, and travel; all of which have provided plenty of inspiration for her writing.


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