What does Tabatha do when not putting the fear of god into hapless hairdressing assistants?
Tabatha Coffey giving some constructive feedback on Debbie, a salon owner who doesn’t understand why eleven of her staff have walked out within a six month period.
“We have the witch on our side.” Moon sat in bed next to Vix and elbowed her friend. Ayla’s packing was taking an inordinate amount of time. Indeed, according to the witch, she would not be done packing for a full three days. Vix had recieved the news gratefully. It meant that she might have three days without danger or conflict. Three days respite from the war which raged hither and thither throughout Lesbia.
She nodded in acknowledgement of Moon’s words. They did have the witch. Ayla was not what or who she had expected. A twisted angry crone, Ayla was not. The woman was beautiful, sensual, mature… and a dozen more adjectives all of which served to tantalize and excite.
Running to escape the slaps, Sakura hurtled into their quarters, her hands covering her backside. “I get to go out,” she crowed. “And you can’t stop me!” She jumped up on the bed, beaming broadly. “I get to go ouuuutt, and you can’t stooop me,” she sung, dancing back and forth, clothy kitty heads bouncing in time with her excited motion. Continue reading