Jamie DeBree's Blog, page 24
May 27, 2013
On Green Stuff, Fiber, & Freezer Defrosting...
Looking for the next installment of Mr. Mysterious (the holiday serial)? Click here.
Part of why I love the English language so much is all the
idiosyncrasies & double meanings that drive people insane. Take the
title of this post, for instance. If you know me at all, you probably
guessed that today's post will cover gardening and crochet along with
actual freezer defrosting. If you didn't know me at all, you might think
I was referring to broccoli, beans, and...well, freezer defrosting
(that's a bit hard to misinterpret, though there are certainly ways).
Fun with language is good for the brain. So is driving other people
nuts...
If you guessed that I spent most of Sat/Sun working
in the garden, you'd be right (or you're friends with me on Facebook).
The project for this long weekend was simple in theory - weed as many of
the flowerbeds/gardens as possible, to get ahead of the enormous
bindweed and grass problems we've got here. We also are in the process
of planting the front flowerbeds, and redoing all of the backyard
gardens. So lots of green upheaval going on around here. Needless to
say, the flowerbeds are starting to look...well, better anyways. My
hamstrings are not happy with all the extra work.
In
any case, it's a long weekend for me, so I'm home today, and about a
third of the day will be spent doing...yes, more yard work. I'm a lucky
girl, eh?
I've also been cycling back into
houseplant keeping again, having bought four in the last two weeks. This
is a good sign, as it means I'm finally letting go of my death-grip
obsession with writing and getting back to "normal life". It also means
that I have new plants to repot and find good spots for...a project that
will start today and run into next week. Fun stuff - I'm enjoying
having tropical plants in the house again. When I'm hyper-focused on
anything, my cacti are the only plants that survive.
I
also finished a crochet gift this weekend, and I need to start another
one tonight to match. Two weeks to go, so I'd better get moving on it!
I'm going to use a new stitch I learned watching youtube videos - the
star stitch. Hopefully it will go well, and work up quickly. Want to see
the crochet projects I've been working on? Visit Hookin' It for the two I've done this year (more to come)...
Did
you ever leave something in your freezer so long that the ice built up
on the shelf around it and you couldn't get it out? If not, well...um,
really?
I think it might have been the first
or second year after we moved in here that my mom sent over a container
of pumpkin squares for one of our Halloween parties. In the hustle and
bustle of pre-party-prep, they were forgotten, and ended up in the
freezer. We've lived here 8...going on 9 years now.
That container is still in my deep freeze downstairs, frozen to the top shelf in a 2 inch thick sheet of freezer-frost ice.
Needless
to say, I've been meaning to defrost the freezer for several years now,
and just never quite got around to it. It takes a bit of planning to
defrost a freezer - because everything in there that needs to be kept
needs to be moved to the freezer under the fridge - which also needs to
be cleaned out, not that that leaves enough room.
So
that's a priority on my to-do list today. First thing, I'm going to
clean out and start the deep freeze defrosting. It should be done
sometime late in the afternoon, I'd think. Not only will I gain the use
of that upper shelf back, I'll also gain some room from foods that have
just been in there too long to be good anymore. Win-win, though it's a
lot of work.
What else am I up to on my
"vacation" day? Well, hubby has to work, so it's just me, and I might as
well make the most of it, right?
- Defrost freezer
- Finish weeding gardens
- Write a short (2k) story due tonight
- Write Tuesday's serial scene
- Basic housecleaning (normally done Sundays, but I was busy with yardwork)
- Start new crochet project
- Catch up on one comic book series
- Pay bills
As for the rest of the week, it should be pretty normal, I think:
- Write three more serial scenes
- Work on non-fic guide
- Send books to GR contest winners
- Update websites
- Work on crochet project
- Workout x2 (the weeding counts, dang it!)
- Get caught up on my comic book reading
So here's to long, productive holiday weekends, and short work-weeks where nothing much happens.
Enjoy
this post? Support your author:
Part of why I love the English language so much is all the
idiosyncrasies & double meanings that drive people insane. Take the
title of this post, for instance. If you know me at all, you probably
guessed that today's post will cover gardening and crochet along with
actual freezer defrosting. If you didn't know me at all, you might think
I was referring to broccoli, beans, and...well, freezer defrosting
(that's a bit hard to misinterpret, though there are certainly ways).
Fun with language is good for the brain. So is driving other people
nuts...
If you guessed that I spent most of Sat/Sun working
in the garden, you'd be right (or you're friends with me on Facebook).
The project for this long weekend was simple in theory - weed as many of
the flowerbeds/gardens as possible, to get ahead of the enormous
bindweed and grass problems we've got here. We also are in the process
of planting the front flowerbeds, and redoing all of the backyard
gardens. So lots of green upheaval going on around here. Needless to
say, the flowerbeds are starting to look...well, better anyways. My
hamstrings are not happy with all the extra work.
In
any case, it's a long weekend for me, so I'm home today, and about a
third of the day will be spent doing...yes, more yard work. I'm a lucky
girl, eh?
I've also been cycling back into
houseplant keeping again, having bought four in the last two weeks. This
is a good sign, as it means I'm finally letting go of my death-grip
obsession with writing and getting back to "normal life". It also means
that I have new plants to repot and find good spots for...a project that
will start today and run into next week. Fun stuff - I'm enjoying
having tropical plants in the house again. When I'm hyper-focused on
anything, my cacti are the only plants that survive.
I
also finished a crochet gift this weekend, and I need to start another
one tonight to match. Two weeks to go, so I'd better get moving on it!
I'm going to use a new stitch I learned watching youtube videos - the
star stitch. Hopefully it will go well, and work up quickly. Want to see
the crochet projects I've been working on? Visit Hookin' It for the two I've done this year (more to come)...
Did
you ever leave something in your freezer so long that the ice built up
on the shelf around it and you couldn't get it out? If not, well...um,
really?
I think it might have been the first
or second year after we moved in here that my mom sent over a container
of pumpkin squares for one of our Halloween parties. In the hustle and
bustle of pre-party-prep, they were forgotten, and ended up in the
freezer. We've lived here 8...going on 9 years now.
That container is still in my deep freeze downstairs, frozen to the top shelf in a 2 inch thick sheet of freezer-frost ice.
Needless
to say, I've been meaning to defrost the freezer for several years now,
and just never quite got around to it. It takes a bit of planning to
defrost a freezer - because everything in there that needs to be kept
needs to be moved to the freezer under the fridge - which also needs to
be cleaned out, not that that leaves enough room.
So
that's a priority on my to-do list today. First thing, I'm going to
clean out and start the deep freeze defrosting. It should be done
sometime late in the afternoon, I'd think. Not only will I gain the use
of that upper shelf back, I'll also gain some room from foods that have
just been in there too long to be good anymore. Win-win, though it's a
lot of work.
What else am I up to on my
"vacation" day? Well, hubby has to work, so it's just me, and I might as
well make the most of it, right?
- Defrost freezer
- Finish weeding gardens
- Write a short (2k) story due tonight
- Write Tuesday's serial scene
- Basic housecleaning (normally done Sundays, but I was busy with yardwork)
- Start new crochet project
- Catch up on one comic book series
- Pay bills
As for the rest of the week, it should be pretty normal, I think:
- Write three more serial scenes
- Work on non-fic guide
- Send books to GR contest winners
- Update websites
- Work on crochet project
- Workout x2 (the weeding counts, dang it!)
- Get caught up on my comic book reading
So here's to long, productive holiday weekends, and short work-weeks where nothing much happens.
Enjoy
this post? Support your author:
Romantic Suspense
| Erotic Romance | Contemporary Romance |
Suspense/Thriller
| Flash Fiction | Non-Fiction
**Please
note - If this is your first time posting, your comment
will be moderated.
May 26, 2013
Serial Holiday Shorts: Mr. Mysterious - Memorial Day
Mr.
Mysterious is one branch of a three-pronged holiday short series by
myself and two of my alter-egos. We follow three women through the year,
each with a different goal that may be achieved in ways they can't even
fathom just yet. This is Laura's story. You can read the first part here. All stories are posted in draft form. The combined, edited version will be released in December 2013.
***Warning - if you are under 18 yrs old, or easily offended by graphic material,
do not read further.***
Valentine's Day | St. Patrick's Day | Easter |
Her Own Superhero
“Come on, Laura. There are a ton of good looking guys here tonight, half of them in the beach volleyball pit with no shirts.” Melanie waved at one of the shirtless not-quite-athletes, and he missed a volley waving back. “Quit moping and pick one. It’s not like you knew David all that well anyways.”
Laura looked down, running a finger around the rim of her frozen strawberry daiquiri. It had been eight weeks since the night David was taken from her house. She hadn’t heard anything from him, and worried that the men would come back, she’d moved across town to a sub-letted condo with a new unlisted number. The gold coin was still hidden in that Easter egg, tucked away in storage with the rest of the things that wouldn’t fit in her new place.
“It could have all been an elaborate set-up,” Jodi said, big dark sunglasses obscuring her expression. “But even if it wasn’t, I think if he was truly interested he’d have contacted you by now. You need to let him go.”
“What if he’s dead?” Laura asked quietly without looking up. “How would I even know?”
“All the more reason to move on,” Melanie said, pulling her own shades down to peer over the tops at Laura. “Either way, it’s doubtful you’re ever going to see him again, and if he’s a ghost, I don’t think you want to. Grab yourself a hottie and go have some fun. Which is exactly what I’m going to do. I’ll talk to you both later, okay?”
Pushing her sunglasses back up with one finger, she got up and waved before slinking into the crowd one hip at a time.
“She’s rude, but she’s right,” Jodi said, reaching out to give Laura’s arm a squeeze. I know you got attached to this guy, but moving on is the smart thing.” She glanced over at the volleyball court where a fight had apparently broken out. “Although this may not be the best place to do that.”
She smiled, and Laura forced herself to return the gesture with a nod.
“I know. I do. I just...need a little more time. I’ll be okay. I promise.”
Jodi’s smile widened as she looked at something behind Laura. “Ty’s here - I have to go. Are you gonna go home?”
Laura turned and waved over her shoulder at Jodi’s date, and then shook her head.
“I think I’ll stay here for a bit and people watch. Someone said there will be fireworks later, and since it’s Memorial Day and all...”
Jodi stood up. “Maybe a good way to say goodbye to someone you thought was serving his country?”
Laura shrugged. “Something like that.”
Jodi put a hand on her shoulder. “If you need anything at all, call. I’ll check in later tonight.”
Laura sipped at her drink and watched the sun go down, thinking about all the conversations she’d had online with David before they’d met. The hours they’d spent talking about so many things. Her friends didn’t understand, but how could they? She couldn’t explain the powerful connection she felt with David, or the instinct that if he was dead, somehow she’d know.
Tiki torches were lit around the beach volleyball court, and the bar swelled to capacity as darkness fell. She watched the girls in barely-there clothes and the strapping college boys who’d give anything for a night with them, as quickly forgotten as it happened...
Suddenly feeling old and very much alone, Laura finished her drink and took a few bills out of her wallet, anchoring them under the glass as a tip. She reached for her purse and stood, only to freeze when she caught a whiff of an unmistakable scent.
She turned around and he was there, an apology and a question in his tired eyes. She didn’t even think, just stepped into his arms and hugged him tight.
His arms wrapped around her, holding her against his body as he kissed her neck, her cheek, her lips. The world faded away as she opened for him, reveling in his taste. She never wanted to let him go again.
When he released her, pulling away, she whimpered her protest, earning a deep, oh-so-masculine chuckle that slid over her skin like silk. He pulled her close again, this time his lips skimming her sensitive ear.
“We’re making a scene,” he whispered, his breath hot over her neck. “Let’s get out of here, shall we?”
He took her hand and led her through the crowd, out a back door and into a waiting car. Laura couldn’t stop herself from reaching over and caressing the strong line of his jaw as he drove away from the bar. She didn’t even care where he was taking her. All that mattered was that he was here, with her.
“So you’re not mad then?” he said, glancing over at her briefly before looking back at the road. She frowned, confused by the question.
“Why would I be mad? The last I heard, you were being kidnapped by horrible men who said they were going to torture you for information. I’m just glad you’re alive and in one piece. I’m sure you would have let me know sooner, if you could have.”
He reached over and squeezed her thigh with his left hand. “I came as soon as I could. I wanted to make sure you wouldn’t be in danger.”
Laura put her hand over his, their fingers entwining. “Can you tell me what happened? Or is it top secret or whatever?”
He smiled, keeping his eyes on the road. “I can tell you some of it, but not all. Do you still have that drive, or did you get rid of it? I noticed you moved...”
She nodded, looking down at their fingers. “The drive is in storage - I didn’t feel safe at the old house. Is there a chance they’ll still come after me?”
He shook his head, the smile gone. “I made sure they won’t. But I do need that drive. Would you mind taking me to it tomorrow?” He pulled up in front of a dark house, and turned off the engine, putting the keys in his pocket.
“Of course - whenever you want. Where are we?” She didn’t recognize the neighborhood, but she trusted David.
He looked past her at the house. “This is where I’m staying, temporarily, of course.” Returning his gaze to her, he reached out to caress the side of her neck. “I know this whole thing between us is kind of messed up and weird, and I’ll take you home if you want, but I was hoping we could spend some time together. Talk. See what happens...”
Laura felt her cheeks heat as she nodded. “I think that’s a great idea.”
She followed him up the walk, waiting while he opened the door and took a quick look inside. He motioned for her to come in and locked the door behind her before reaching for a switch on the wall.
Laura intercepted his hand and he froze. In the dim light of the moon shining through the windows, she could just barely make out the gentle curve of his lips as she placed his hand on her waist and stepped in close to his body.
“Do you really want to talk?” she asked, looking up at him through her lashes and smoothing her hands up over his shoulders. His arms tightened around her, pulling her up against his chest as well as other intriguing parts of his body.
“I really do,” he said, holding her in place when she looked down and would have pulled away. His low chuckle rumbled under her skin. “But we’ve got all night, and I’m very much in favor of...other activities as well.”
She looked up again and he didn’t waste a moment in capturing her lips with his. She eagerly took everything he was willing to give, wrapping her legs around his waist when he bent his knees and picked her up. Paying no attention to where he was taking her, she whimpered in protest when he laid her on a big, soft bed, and then pulled out of her grasp.
“David...” she reached for him, but he stepped back with a laugh, shrugging off his jacket and then reaching for the collar of his shirt.
“Patience, dear.” He pulled the shirt off over his head, and Laura shifted to her side with an elbow to prop her up as she watched him disrobe.
“Wow...” she breathed, practically salivating at the muscles that rippled even in the dark. She couldn’t wait to run her hands over them, taste them, rub over those hard, sculpted ridges.
Before she could catch her breath, his pants and underwear joined the rest of his clothes on the floor and he was striding back to her, that lovely long cock bobbing in front. Calling her name, for sure.
“See anything you like?” he teased, and for a second she considered slugging him good-naturedly in the arm. But before she could move, he was crawling up on the bed beside her, and all thought of...well...anything just sort of floated away.
His lips were gentle against her skin, his fingers deft as he removed her clothes. There was no awkwardness in the way their bodies moved together, and when he entered her it was as if her body recognized him.
The frantic relief of rediscovery all but forgotten, he thrust slow, her hips rising up to meet his as she stared into his eyes. The intensity made her want to look away, but somehow she couldn’t. Even with all they had shared, were sharing, he was holding something back, and she wanted to find it, to know all of his secrets.
He looked away then, bending down to nip at her neck as he quickened the pace of his thrusts. She hooked her legs around his waist and met every motion as the pressure within her built. Her eyes closed and her head fell back as he reached between them and pressed his thumb against her sensitive nub just as her inner muscles began to contract around him.
Her head spun, her mind foggy as pleasure raced through her body. He thrust deep, groaning as he gave in to his own release and she arched up off the bed as he collapsed between her legs.
It was several minutes before she could string together a coherent thought, and several more before she could actually speak.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t even think...” he started, but she rolled toward him, putting her head on his shoulder and two fingers against his lips.
“I’m on the pill,” she murmured, relieved to feel his arm tighten around her. She lightly stroked his chest, her fingers exploring the hard ridges and angles. God he was gorgeous. And his voice - she could listen to his voice all night and never get tired of those rich, soothing tones.
“So what was it that you wanted to talk about?”
He stroked her arm, staring at the ceiling. “Well, this, for one thing, but I think we’ve pretty much addressed that subject. And the others...are probably better discussed with clothes on. Or robes, at least.”
Laura sighed, snuggling closer. “We can put it off a little while longer then. You might have to pry me out of this bed...” She felt his muscles tense, and to her dismay he slid out from under her and got off the bed. She looked up, disappointed as he began to pull on his clothes. She should have kept her mouth shut.
“No, it’s time.” He bent down to press a soft kiss on her lips, and then moved away again. “Get dressed, I’ll make coffee, and I’ll tell you everything.”
She watched him walk out the door and then reluctantly dragged herself out from between the sheets. Collecting her clothes, she made use of the facilities and then joined him in the kitchen, both curious and apprehensive about what he might say. She took a seat on a stool next to the island, and he placed a hot cup of coffee in front of her.
“Black, right?”
She nodded, and he sat down across from her, his own mug in hand.
“Those men who broke into your house and took me - those were ex-military mercenaries hired to steal back the data on that flash drive. From what I uploaded to the FBI servers before they arrived, we feel it’s safe to assume that there are a faction of terrorists from several middle eastern countries here in the states planning some sort of attack this summer close to the Fourth of July. We’re hoping the rest of the intel is on that disk, so we can stop whatever they have planned before it happens.”
“Wow.” Laura shook her head. “That is...horrible and amazing all at once. I had no idea.”
He nodded. “Most people don’t - and that’s a good thing. The last thing we need are a bunch of panicked citizens going off half-cocked before we can find and catch the bad guys. But I wanted you to know what you’ve been protecting. And why I won’t be in touch for a while again.”
She frowned. “You’re going after them? Isn’t that dangerous?” After the words left her mouth, she felt stupid. Of course it was dangerous. The word sort of defined every part of his job. Duh.
He gave her a small grin, as if he knew what she was thinking. “It is. That’s what I do. Just think of me as your very own superhero.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Are you?” she asked, leaning closer across the counter top. He leaned forward too, holding her gaze, his smile gone.
“Am I what?”
She didn’t blink. “My very own?”
He set his cup down and slid off the stool, stalking around the island to stand beside her. Taking her face in his hands, he kissed her once, twice, three times before pulling her into his embrace.
“I am,” he whispered, pulling her shirt up and over her head. “Clothes time is over, don’t you think?”
She nodded, pushing what he’d just told her out of her mind and going to work on the button of his jeans.
Three hours later, she replaced the lock on the storage unit door and watched him drive away, wondering how long it would be until she saw him again.
###
Join us for the next installment of Laura's story right here on Independence Day - July 4, 2013.
Curious about what Melanie and Jodi were up to while Laura was meeting
Mysterious? Check in on Melanie at AlexWesthaven.com (horror), and Jodi at TrinityMarlow.com (erotic romance) - both installments will be posted later today. Thanks for reading! Enjoy
this post? Support your author:
Mysterious is one branch of a three-pronged holiday short series by
myself and two of my alter-egos. We follow three women through the year,
each with a different goal that may be achieved in ways they can't even
fathom just yet. This is Laura's story. You can read the first part here. All stories are posted in draft form. The combined, edited version will be released in December 2013.
***Warning - if you are under 18 yrs old, or easily offended by graphic material,
do not read further.***
Valentine's Day | St. Patrick's Day | Easter |
Her Own Superhero
“Come on, Laura. There are a ton of good looking guys here tonight, half of them in the beach volleyball pit with no shirts.” Melanie waved at one of the shirtless not-quite-athletes, and he missed a volley waving back. “Quit moping and pick one. It’s not like you knew David all that well anyways.”
Laura looked down, running a finger around the rim of her frozen strawberry daiquiri. It had been eight weeks since the night David was taken from her house. She hadn’t heard anything from him, and worried that the men would come back, she’d moved across town to a sub-letted condo with a new unlisted number. The gold coin was still hidden in that Easter egg, tucked away in storage with the rest of the things that wouldn’t fit in her new place.
“It could have all been an elaborate set-up,” Jodi said, big dark sunglasses obscuring her expression. “But even if it wasn’t, I think if he was truly interested he’d have contacted you by now. You need to let him go.”
“What if he’s dead?” Laura asked quietly without looking up. “How would I even know?”
“All the more reason to move on,” Melanie said, pulling her own shades down to peer over the tops at Laura. “Either way, it’s doubtful you’re ever going to see him again, and if he’s a ghost, I don’t think you want to. Grab yourself a hottie and go have some fun. Which is exactly what I’m going to do. I’ll talk to you both later, okay?”
Pushing her sunglasses back up with one finger, she got up and waved before slinking into the crowd one hip at a time.
“She’s rude, but she’s right,” Jodi said, reaching out to give Laura’s arm a squeeze. I know you got attached to this guy, but moving on is the smart thing.” She glanced over at the volleyball court where a fight had apparently broken out. “Although this may not be the best place to do that.”
She smiled, and Laura forced herself to return the gesture with a nod.
“I know. I do. I just...need a little more time. I’ll be okay. I promise.”
Jodi’s smile widened as she looked at something behind Laura. “Ty’s here - I have to go. Are you gonna go home?”
Laura turned and waved over her shoulder at Jodi’s date, and then shook her head.
“I think I’ll stay here for a bit and people watch. Someone said there will be fireworks later, and since it’s Memorial Day and all...”
Jodi stood up. “Maybe a good way to say goodbye to someone you thought was serving his country?”
Laura shrugged. “Something like that.”
Jodi put a hand on her shoulder. “If you need anything at all, call. I’ll check in later tonight.”
Laura sipped at her drink and watched the sun go down, thinking about all the conversations she’d had online with David before they’d met. The hours they’d spent talking about so many things. Her friends didn’t understand, but how could they? She couldn’t explain the powerful connection she felt with David, or the instinct that if he was dead, somehow she’d know.
Tiki torches were lit around the beach volleyball court, and the bar swelled to capacity as darkness fell. She watched the girls in barely-there clothes and the strapping college boys who’d give anything for a night with them, as quickly forgotten as it happened...
Suddenly feeling old and very much alone, Laura finished her drink and took a few bills out of her wallet, anchoring them under the glass as a tip. She reached for her purse and stood, only to freeze when she caught a whiff of an unmistakable scent.
She turned around and he was there, an apology and a question in his tired eyes. She didn’t even think, just stepped into his arms and hugged him tight.
His arms wrapped around her, holding her against his body as he kissed her neck, her cheek, her lips. The world faded away as she opened for him, reveling in his taste. She never wanted to let him go again.
When he released her, pulling away, she whimpered her protest, earning a deep, oh-so-masculine chuckle that slid over her skin like silk. He pulled her close again, this time his lips skimming her sensitive ear.
“We’re making a scene,” he whispered, his breath hot over her neck. “Let’s get out of here, shall we?”
He took her hand and led her through the crowd, out a back door and into a waiting car. Laura couldn’t stop herself from reaching over and caressing the strong line of his jaw as he drove away from the bar. She didn’t even care where he was taking her. All that mattered was that he was here, with her.
“So you’re not mad then?” he said, glancing over at her briefly before looking back at the road. She frowned, confused by the question.
“Why would I be mad? The last I heard, you were being kidnapped by horrible men who said they were going to torture you for information. I’m just glad you’re alive and in one piece. I’m sure you would have let me know sooner, if you could have.”
He reached over and squeezed her thigh with his left hand. “I came as soon as I could. I wanted to make sure you wouldn’t be in danger.”
Laura put her hand over his, their fingers entwining. “Can you tell me what happened? Or is it top secret or whatever?”
He smiled, keeping his eyes on the road. “I can tell you some of it, but not all. Do you still have that drive, or did you get rid of it? I noticed you moved...”
She nodded, looking down at their fingers. “The drive is in storage - I didn’t feel safe at the old house. Is there a chance they’ll still come after me?”
He shook his head, the smile gone. “I made sure they won’t. But I do need that drive. Would you mind taking me to it tomorrow?” He pulled up in front of a dark house, and turned off the engine, putting the keys in his pocket.
“Of course - whenever you want. Where are we?” She didn’t recognize the neighborhood, but she trusted David.
He looked past her at the house. “This is where I’m staying, temporarily, of course.” Returning his gaze to her, he reached out to caress the side of her neck. “I know this whole thing between us is kind of messed up and weird, and I’ll take you home if you want, but I was hoping we could spend some time together. Talk. See what happens...”
Laura felt her cheeks heat as she nodded. “I think that’s a great idea.”
She followed him up the walk, waiting while he opened the door and took a quick look inside. He motioned for her to come in and locked the door behind her before reaching for a switch on the wall.
Laura intercepted his hand and he froze. In the dim light of the moon shining through the windows, she could just barely make out the gentle curve of his lips as she placed his hand on her waist and stepped in close to his body.
“Do you really want to talk?” she asked, looking up at him through her lashes and smoothing her hands up over his shoulders. His arms tightened around her, pulling her up against his chest as well as other intriguing parts of his body.
“I really do,” he said, holding her in place when she looked down and would have pulled away. His low chuckle rumbled under her skin. “But we’ve got all night, and I’m very much in favor of...other activities as well.”
She looked up again and he didn’t waste a moment in capturing her lips with his. She eagerly took everything he was willing to give, wrapping her legs around his waist when he bent his knees and picked her up. Paying no attention to where he was taking her, she whimpered in protest when he laid her on a big, soft bed, and then pulled out of her grasp.
“David...” she reached for him, but he stepped back with a laugh, shrugging off his jacket and then reaching for the collar of his shirt.
“Patience, dear.” He pulled the shirt off over his head, and Laura shifted to her side with an elbow to prop her up as she watched him disrobe.
“Wow...” she breathed, practically salivating at the muscles that rippled even in the dark. She couldn’t wait to run her hands over them, taste them, rub over those hard, sculpted ridges.
Before she could catch her breath, his pants and underwear joined the rest of his clothes on the floor and he was striding back to her, that lovely long cock bobbing in front. Calling her name, for sure.
“See anything you like?” he teased, and for a second she considered slugging him good-naturedly in the arm. But before she could move, he was crawling up on the bed beside her, and all thought of...well...anything just sort of floated away.
His lips were gentle against her skin, his fingers deft as he removed her clothes. There was no awkwardness in the way their bodies moved together, and when he entered her it was as if her body recognized him.
The frantic relief of rediscovery all but forgotten, he thrust slow, her hips rising up to meet his as she stared into his eyes. The intensity made her want to look away, but somehow she couldn’t. Even with all they had shared, were sharing, he was holding something back, and she wanted to find it, to know all of his secrets.
He looked away then, bending down to nip at her neck as he quickened the pace of his thrusts. She hooked her legs around his waist and met every motion as the pressure within her built. Her eyes closed and her head fell back as he reached between them and pressed his thumb against her sensitive nub just as her inner muscles began to contract around him.
Her head spun, her mind foggy as pleasure raced through her body. He thrust deep, groaning as he gave in to his own release and she arched up off the bed as he collapsed between her legs.
It was several minutes before she could string together a coherent thought, and several more before she could actually speak.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t even think...” he started, but she rolled toward him, putting her head on his shoulder and two fingers against his lips.
“I’m on the pill,” she murmured, relieved to feel his arm tighten around her. She lightly stroked his chest, her fingers exploring the hard ridges and angles. God he was gorgeous. And his voice - she could listen to his voice all night and never get tired of those rich, soothing tones.
“So what was it that you wanted to talk about?”
He stroked her arm, staring at the ceiling. “Well, this, for one thing, but I think we’ve pretty much addressed that subject. And the others...are probably better discussed with clothes on. Or robes, at least.”
Laura sighed, snuggling closer. “We can put it off a little while longer then. You might have to pry me out of this bed...” She felt his muscles tense, and to her dismay he slid out from under her and got off the bed. She looked up, disappointed as he began to pull on his clothes. She should have kept her mouth shut.
“No, it’s time.” He bent down to press a soft kiss on her lips, and then moved away again. “Get dressed, I’ll make coffee, and I’ll tell you everything.”
She watched him walk out the door and then reluctantly dragged herself out from between the sheets. Collecting her clothes, she made use of the facilities and then joined him in the kitchen, both curious and apprehensive about what he might say. She took a seat on a stool next to the island, and he placed a hot cup of coffee in front of her.
“Black, right?”
She nodded, and he sat down across from her, his own mug in hand.
“Those men who broke into your house and took me - those were ex-military mercenaries hired to steal back the data on that flash drive. From what I uploaded to the FBI servers before they arrived, we feel it’s safe to assume that there are a faction of terrorists from several middle eastern countries here in the states planning some sort of attack this summer close to the Fourth of July. We’re hoping the rest of the intel is on that disk, so we can stop whatever they have planned before it happens.”
“Wow.” Laura shook her head. “That is...horrible and amazing all at once. I had no idea.”
He nodded. “Most people don’t - and that’s a good thing. The last thing we need are a bunch of panicked citizens going off half-cocked before we can find and catch the bad guys. But I wanted you to know what you’ve been protecting. And why I won’t be in touch for a while again.”
She frowned. “You’re going after them? Isn’t that dangerous?” After the words left her mouth, she felt stupid. Of course it was dangerous. The word sort of defined every part of his job. Duh.
He gave her a small grin, as if he knew what she was thinking. “It is. That’s what I do. Just think of me as your very own superhero.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Are you?” she asked, leaning closer across the counter top. He leaned forward too, holding her gaze, his smile gone.
“Am I what?”
She didn’t blink. “My very own?”
He set his cup down and slid off the stool, stalking around the island to stand beside her. Taking her face in his hands, he kissed her once, twice, three times before pulling her into his embrace.
“I am,” he whispered, pulling her shirt up and over her head. “Clothes time is over, don’t you think?”
She nodded, pushing what he’d just told her out of her mind and going to work on the button of his jeans.
Three hours later, she replaced the lock on the storage unit door and watched him drive away, wondering how long it would be until she saw him again.
###
Join us for the next installment of Laura's story right here on Independence Day - July 4, 2013.
Curious about what Melanie and Jodi were up to while Laura was meeting
Mysterious? Check in on Melanie at AlexWesthaven.com (horror), and Jodi at TrinityMarlow.com (erotic romance) - both installments will be posted later today. Thanks for reading! Enjoy
this post? Support your author:
Romantic Suspense
| Erotic Romance | Suspense/Thriller
| Flash Fiction | Non-Fiction
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note - If this is your first time posting, your comment
will be moderated. Once you have been approved, future comments will post automatically.
May 24, 2013
Serial Story: English Breakfast, Part 5
This story is presented weekly in draft format.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |
English Breakfast, Part 5
Patrick cancelled the call to Karen’s number, tossing his phone on the conference table.
“She’s not picking up. I told you, she won’t talk to me.” He braced his elbows on the table as Kane reached over and dialed her number on the conference phone. “You know she’s not going to pick up from any of our numbers. She’ll just think it’s me again.”
His boss disconnected the call and shrugged. “You’ll have to go over there then. As long as those guys know about her shop, she’s in danger, and I don’t want her getting hurt just because she helped us. Go get her, and bring her back here.”
Patrick chuckled, shaking his head. “You really think she’s going to open the door for me, much less come here? I know she’s been gone for a few months, but do you remember anything about her?”
Kane shrugged. “You know her best, and you’re the one who left her vulnerable. Find a way to get her here. Now. We don’t have any more time to waste on this.”
Patrick nodded and pushed back from the table, shoving his phone back into his pocket as he stood. Kane never did anything without a reason, and Patrick doubted keeping Karen safe was his only priority, but there was no point in pushing. He had a point about her being in danger, and that was the important thing.
Fifteen minutes later, he parked in front of Karen’s house and went to her door, moving quickly to the side and reaching for his gun when he saw the splintered wood and broken locks.
Moving slowly, he pushed the door open a fraction, sliding inside as he scanned the room. Her purse and keys were on the kitchen counter, her wallet sitting open beside them. The couch cushions were displaced and books and papers were strewn across the living room floor. Black boot marks on the hardwood were far too big for her feet, and pointed toward the hall.
Patrick followed the prints cautiously, curious that no one had bothered to clean them up. Whoever had been there must not be too worried about them being traced. He reached the bathroom and saw blood and a towel on the floor.
He searched the rest of the apartment, but as he suspected, she wasn’t there. Holstering his gun, he dialed the office. Kane himself answered.
“She’s gone,” Patrick said, looking around the living room for any possible clues. “I was too late. There’s dried blood, but not much.”
“Damn it.” Patrick heard a phone ringing in the background. “Hold on just a minute, okay?”
“Sure.” Patrick waited, studying the boot print again. It was huge, indicating someone very tall had been wearing it, but that’s all he could come up with before the line reconnected.
“Patrick?” If possible, his boss sounded more serious than he had a minute ago.
“I’m here.”
“You’d better get back here right away. The kidnappers just sent a video. It’s not pretty.”
Enjoy
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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |
English Breakfast, Part 5
Patrick cancelled the call to Karen’s number, tossing his phone on the conference table.
“She’s not picking up. I told you, she won’t talk to me.” He braced his elbows on the table as Kane reached over and dialed her number on the conference phone. “You know she’s not going to pick up from any of our numbers. She’ll just think it’s me again.”
His boss disconnected the call and shrugged. “You’ll have to go over there then. As long as those guys know about her shop, she’s in danger, and I don’t want her getting hurt just because she helped us. Go get her, and bring her back here.”
Patrick chuckled, shaking his head. “You really think she’s going to open the door for me, much less come here? I know she’s been gone for a few months, but do you remember anything about her?”
Kane shrugged. “You know her best, and you’re the one who left her vulnerable. Find a way to get her here. Now. We don’t have any more time to waste on this.”
Patrick nodded and pushed back from the table, shoving his phone back into his pocket as he stood. Kane never did anything without a reason, and Patrick doubted keeping Karen safe was his only priority, but there was no point in pushing. He had a point about her being in danger, and that was the important thing.
Fifteen minutes later, he parked in front of Karen’s house and went to her door, moving quickly to the side and reaching for his gun when he saw the splintered wood and broken locks.
Moving slowly, he pushed the door open a fraction, sliding inside as he scanned the room. Her purse and keys were on the kitchen counter, her wallet sitting open beside them. The couch cushions were displaced and books and papers were strewn across the living room floor. Black boot marks on the hardwood were far too big for her feet, and pointed toward the hall.
Patrick followed the prints cautiously, curious that no one had bothered to clean them up. Whoever had been there must not be too worried about them being traced. He reached the bathroom and saw blood and a towel on the floor.
He searched the rest of the apartment, but as he suspected, she wasn’t there. Holstering his gun, he dialed the office. Kane himself answered.
“She’s gone,” Patrick said, looking around the living room for any possible clues. “I was too late. There’s dried blood, but not much.”
“Damn it.” Patrick heard a phone ringing in the background. “Hold on just a minute, okay?”
“Sure.” Patrick waited, studying the boot print again. It was huge, indicating someone very tall had been wearing it, but that’s all he could come up with before the line reconnected.
“Patrick?” If possible, his boss sounded more serious than he had a minute ago.
“I’m here.”
“You’d better get back here right away. The kidnappers just sent a video. It’s not pretty.”
Enjoy
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Romantic Suspense
| Erotic Romance | Contemporary Romance |
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May 22, 2013
Talkin' Books: Really Bad Pirates, Wide Paperbacks & The Huntress
Books Finished:
None
Books In Progress:
Bloodline
The Huntress
Beautiful Sorrows
Comics Read:
None
Comics in Progress:
Age of Ultron #3
Egads. Where did the last week go? My reading has slowed to a
veritable trickle, and part of that was catching up with TV season
finales, while the other part has been an insane writing/editing
schedule the past two weeks. Not to mention a chatty husband at lunch,
which is when I normally spend time with my kindle...
In any case, I started Bloodline by James
Rollins last week, and whoa. Talk about your gruesome and unexpected
opening chapter. Somali Pirates are involved, and I won't spoil any of
the story for you, but suffice it to say you won't really want to eat
before you read the first chapter of this book. You'll thank me later.
Getting past that, the story is off to a super-quick start with a dog
handler who is poised to become a new reluctant hero - my favorite kind.
And I was surprised at an early partnership I wasn't expecting too, but
that may be because it's been awhile since I read a Sigma Force novel.
In any case, I keep wanting to get back to this book, and after this
crazy writing week, I should be able to.
Incidentally, we bought our copy of Bloodline at Costco,
and the paperback is a weird size - not trade size, but not mass market
either. It's about the same height as a normal mass market, but about
fifty percent wider, which makes it very difficult to hold - impossible
with one hand, and unwieldy for page turning with two. Annoying - I kind
of wish we'd picked up the normal sized paperback at Hastings
instead...
I also started The Huntress by Alexandra
Sokoloff, which, incidentally, is free at the moment on Amazon (kindle
version). It's off to kind of a slow start for me - she's a more
descriptive writer, and too much description just bores me. But I am
intrigued by the story so far, so we'll see how it goes as I get deeper
into it.
Still no comic book reading - I spent the entire weekend editing
and crocheting, even though I brought a couple new comics home on
Saturday. The good news is, my "sampling period" seems to be waning, and
I'm ending up with just a few to follow for the long term, which is
kind of a relief. I've found that I'm far less enthusiastic about most
DC comics - I tend to lean toward the Marvel side of things, with the
notable exception of Batman (who doesn't love Batman?). I think the
reason I like Batman is because at his core, he's just a human, using
technology and brains to do super-human things. That's probably why I
like a lot of Marvel comics as well - those superheroes tend to start
out as human, at least, whereas heros like Superman have never been
fully human.
In any case, after this week things are slated to slow down to a
more normal pace (and there's a holiday weekend coming up - yay!), so I
should have more time for reading. Which I'm very much looking forward
to.
Enjoy
this post? Support your author:
None
Books In Progress:
Bloodline
The Huntress
Beautiful Sorrows
Comics Read:
None
Comics in Progress:
Age of Ultron #3
Egads. Where did the last week go? My reading has slowed to a
veritable trickle, and part of that was catching up with TV season
finales, while the other part has been an insane writing/editing
schedule the past two weeks. Not to mention a chatty husband at lunch,
which is when I normally spend time with my kindle...
In any case, I started Bloodline by James
Rollins last week, and whoa. Talk about your gruesome and unexpected
opening chapter. Somali Pirates are involved, and I won't spoil any of
the story for you, but suffice it to say you won't really want to eat
before you read the first chapter of this book. You'll thank me later.
Getting past that, the story is off to a super-quick start with a dog
handler who is poised to become a new reluctant hero - my favorite kind.
And I was surprised at an early partnership I wasn't expecting too, but
that may be because it's been awhile since I read a Sigma Force novel.
In any case, I keep wanting to get back to this book, and after this
crazy writing week, I should be able to.
Incidentally, we bought our copy of Bloodline at Costco,
and the paperback is a weird size - not trade size, but not mass market
either. It's about the same height as a normal mass market, but about
fifty percent wider, which makes it very difficult to hold - impossible
with one hand, and unwieldy for page turning with two. Annoying - I kind
of wish we'd picked up the normal sized paperback at Hastings
instead...
I also started The Huntress by Alexandra
Sokoloff, which, incidentally, is free at the moment on Amazon (kindle
version). It's off to kind of a slow start for me - she's a more
descriptive writer, and too much description just bores me. But I am
intrigued by the story so far, so we'll see how it goes as I get deeper
into it.
Still no comic book reading - I spent the entire weekend editing
and crocheting, even though I brought a couple new comics home on
Saturday. The good news is, my "sampling period" seems to be waning, and
I'm ending up with just a few to follow for the long term, which is
kind of a relief. I've found that I'm far less enthusiastic about most
DC comics - I tend to lean toward the Marvel side of things, with the
notable exception of Batman (who doesn't love Batman?). I think the
reason I like Batman is because at his core, he's just a human, using
technology and brains to do super-human things. That's probably why I
like a lot of Marvel comics as well - those superheroes tend to start
out as human, at least, whereas heros like Superman have never been
fully human.
In any case, after this week things are slated to slow down to a
more normal pace (and there's a holiday weekend coming up - yay!), so I
should have more time for reading. Which I'm very much looking forward
to.
Enjoy
this post? Support your author:
Romantic Suspense
| Erotic Romance | Contemporary Romance |
Suspense/Thriller
| Flash Fiction | Non-Fiction
**Please
note - If this is your first time posting, your comment
will be moderated. Once you have been approved, future comments will post automatically.
May 20, 2013
On the Study of Languages, Rain, & Bathroom Cleaning...
Last week was an okay week - I was struggling with some Vitamin D
issues (did you know D actually acts as a hormone in your body?), and a
lot of work stuff, and I still managed to knock out all of my serial
scenes in time. So that was good. I also spent a lot of time beta
reading/editing for a friend, which is not something I do often, but
it's a very good thing for all writers to do at least occasionally, in
my opinion. It's really the only time you can let the analytical side of
your brain have free reign with a story and really dig into what works
and what doesn't - it doesn't work with your own stories, because there
are always things you just won't see when they're in your particular
voice. Editing someone else's work tends to make you very much aware of
things that you really need to improve on/watch in your own writing. I
noted several things in the other writer's draft that I either wasn't
doing and needed to, or was doing and need to stop. So it's good mental
exercise for any writer, really.
In this particular case, I got a double mental workout, as there
was a lot of Middle English used in speech, which has rules and
idiosyncrasies all it's own. I knew all that Shakespeare and King James
Bible reading I experienced as a child would come in handy someday. It
doesn't hurt that I happen to be very interested in the history of
languages (the history of anything, really - that's why I have a history
degree). The older the language, the better - dead languages were kind
of my "thing" in high school, and I'd have taken Latin and Greek in
college if they'd been offered at my university - I did study both in
high school.
It was a perfect weekend to stay indoors, considering the weather.
It started raining here on Thursday night, rained on and off all day
Friday, and then started Saturday and didn't stop through Sunday. That
is a *lot* of water all at once for us - the dogs weren't any more
thrilled with it than we were. I know we need the moisture, but part of
why I like Montana is that most of ours generally comes from snow,
rather than rain. I'd really prefer it goes back to that next year...
I was thinking about housecleaning this weekend (as you do when
you're stuck inside), and while I'm getting better, I'm still not a good
housekeeper at all. I keep our weekly laundry done, but I still have
stacks of blankets and other assorted things that need to be washed.
I've finally gotten in the habit of vacuuming weekly, but it only took
me eight years to get there. I haven't mopped the kitchen floor since we
moved in (I do vacuum it, but it really needs mopping) and I suck at
cleaning the bathroom. I clean the hair trap in the shower whenever the
tub stops draining, and everything else gets cleaned when we're
expecting company.
Basically, I clean like most bachelors. *sigh*
I don't know why it actually stuck in my brain this particular
weekend - the bathroom isn't any cleaner or dirtier than normal, but I
had an epiphany that most normal people probably clean the bathroom more
often than we do. Heck, they probably mop the floor more often too, but
no need to get all carried away, right? And I thought to myself, "Self,
now that we're vacuuming the floors pretty much every weekend, we
should clean the bathroom every weekend too."
I know. Weird, wild stuff.
So yeah. New bullet point on my weekly cleaning list for next
weekend - clean the bathroom. Don't you wish your life was as exciting
as mine?
What else is on the list this week? Well, let's see...
- Serial scenes for 4 stories
- Three installments for the holiday serial (because once again, I didn't manage to get them done ahead of time)
- More work on the non-fiction project
- Finish a crochet project I'm nearly done with, and start a new one.
- Workout three times this week (weather permitting, the dogs will get walks)
- Work my way through my TBR stack of comic books (well, part of it at least)
- Start designing Save the Date cards for our annual Halloween party
- Some reorganization/scheduling of weekly/daily to-do's/tasks.
Oh, and I keep forgetting! If you want to win a paperback copy of my latest book, head over to Goodreads and sign up. The contest is open until next Monday, and there are 5 copies up for grabs.
I think that's it for this week - think warm, sunshiny thoughts (but not too warm, because I'm picky like that)!
Enjoy
this post? Support your author:
issues (did you know D actually acts as a hormone in your body?), and a
lot of work stuff, and I still managed to knock out all of my serial
scenes in time. So that was good. I also spent a lot of time beta
reading/editing for a friend, which is not something I do often, but
it's a very good thing for all writers to do at least occasionally, in
my opinion. It's really the only time you can let the analytical side of
your brain have free reign with a story and really dig into what works
and what doesn't - it doesn't work with your own stories, because there
are always things you just won't see when they're in your particular
voice. Editing someone else's work tends to make you very much aware of
things that you really need to improve on/watch in your own writing. I
noted several things in the other writer's draft that I either wasn't
doing and needed to, or was doing and need to stop. So it's good mental
exercise for any writer, really.
In this particular case, I got a double mental workout, as there
was a lot of Middle English used in speech, which has rules and
idiosyncrasies all it's own. I knew all that Shakespeare and King James
Bible reading I experienced as a child would come in handy someday. It
doesn't hurt that I happen to be very interested in the history of
languages (the history of anything, really - that's why I have a history
degree). The older the language, the better - dead languages were kind
of my "thing" in high school, and I'd have taken Latin and Greek in
college if they'd been offered at my university - I did study both in
high school.
It was a perfect weekend to stay indoors, considering the weather.
It started raining here on Thursday night, rained on and off all day
Friday, and then started Saturday and didn't stop through Sunday. That
is a *lot* of water all at once for us - the dogs weren't any more
thrilled with it than we were. I know we need the moisture, but part of
why I like Montana is that most of ours generally comes from snow,
rather than rain. I'd really prefer it goes back to that next year...
I was thinking about housecleaning this weekend (as you do when
you're stuck inside), and while I'm getting better, I'm still not a good
housekeeper at all. I keep our weekly laundry done, but I still have
stacks of blankets and other assorted things that need to be washed.
I've finally gotten in the habit of vacuuming weekly, but it only took
me eight years to get there. I haven't mopped the kitchen floor since we
moved in (I do vacuum it, but it really needs mopping) and I suck at
cleaning the bathroom. I clean the hair trap in the shower whenever the
tub stops draining, and everything else gets cleaned when we're
expecting company.
Basically, I clean like most bachelors. *sigh*
I don't know why it actually stuck in my brain this particular
weekend - the bathroom isn't any cleaner or dirtier than normal, but I
had an epiphany that most normal people probably clean the bathroom more
often than we do. Heck, they probably mop the floor more often too, but
no need to get all carried away, right? And I thought to myself, "Self,
now that we're vacuuming the floors pretty much every weekend, we
should clean the bathroom every weekend too."
I know. Weird, wild stuff.
So yeah. New bullet point on my weekly cleaning list for next
weekend - clean the bathroom. Don't you wish your life was as exciting
as mine?
What else is on the list this week? Well, let's see...
- Serial scenes for 4 stories
- Three installments for the holiday serial (because once again, I didn't manage to get them done ahead of time)
- More work on the non-fiction project
- Finish a crochet project I'm nearly done with, and start a new one.
- Workout three times this week (weather permitting, the dogs will get walks)
- Work my way through my TBR stack of comic books (well, part of it at least)
- Start designing Save the Date cards for our annual Halloween party
- Some reorganization/scheduling of weekly/daily to-do's/tasks.
Oh, and I keep forgetting! If you want to win a paperback copy of my latest book, head over to Goodreads and sign up. The contest is open until next Monday, and there are 5 copies up for grabs.
I think that's it for this week - think warm, sunshiny thoughts (but not too warm, because I'm picky like that)!
Enjoy
this post? Support your author:
Romantic Suspense
| Erotic Romance | Contemporary Romance |
Suspense/Thriller
| Flash Fiction | Non-Fiction
**Please
note - If this is your first time posting, your comment
will be moderated. Once you have been approved, future comments will post automatically.
May 17, 2013
Serial Story: English Breakfast, Part 4
This story is presented weekly in draft format.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |
English Breakfast, Part 4
Her face was throbbing when Karen came too, and her head felt like it was the size of a watermelon. Instinctively she reached up to feel the damage, but her wrist popped back down with a painful thud to the hard surface it had been laying on.
Opening her eyes, she groaned and squinted against the harsh florescent light that seared into her brain like alcohol on an open wound. A thin metal shackle encircled her wrist, and she slowly lifted her head from the table to turn and see the other bound as well. The movement sent fresh pangs through her head and face and she squeezed her eyes shut and fists closed as she focused on breathing until the sharpness had passed.
A door opened, and she reluctantly peeked through her lashes at the man who entered the room. He let the door slam shut behind him and she jumped at another wave of agony drilling through her skull. The man who’d hit her must have been a damn tank, she thought as a metal chair screeching across the bare floor made her teeth grind together.
“I’m glad you’re finally awake,” the man said, sounding entirely too chipper for someone in his line of work. “This will be simple, though as you’ve already realized, not entirely painless. I ask questions, you answer them, we all go home. Nothing to it. So let’s get started. How did you end up with the flash drive you were looking at in your cafe?”
The man must have been a frickin’ chipmunk in a former life, Karen thought as her fuzzy brain scrambled to catch up. She’d been interrogated before, but usually by the stare-em-into-talking types. Maybe those guys should give this chatter-box technique a try. It seemed like an effective way to drive people insane.
She licked her lips and spoke slowly to enunciate past her half-swollen cheek.
“Someone gave it to me.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“Male or female? Tall or short? Skinny or fat? Pretty or ugly? I can play this game as long as you can, Ms. Winters. The problem is, I get bored easily. And when I get bored, I can’t always control my actions. I know your brain is a bit addled right now - Clark throws a mean jab, doesn’t he? Man’s built like a bulldozer. Personally, I don’t like to get my hands dirty. I’m a psych guy myself. I want to mess with your mind, but you probably guessed that. So I’ll give you one more chance to tell me who gave you that drive, and then things are gonna start getting serious. Who gave you the disk?”
Meeting his expectant stare with her one good eye, Karen swallowed, a faint metallic tang coating her tongue.
“Go. To. Hell.”
The man smiled, the expression an ugly caricature of surprised delight. He pushed back his chair slowly enough to draw out that horrid squeal that vibrated through her skull before he stood and flipped a switch on the wall behind him.
The mirror effect on the large window faded and a light came on in the room beyond. The lights in her room were dimmed, for which she was profoundly grateful until she really looked at the scene playing out in the other room.
A woman sat on the other side of the glass from Karen, behind an identical table. A very large man stood beside the table holding one of the woman’s arms stretched out the width of the surface. In his other hand he held a long blade, and as she watched, he lowered it to slide across the woman’s arm, leaving behind a thin, dark line.
Karen pulled at her chains, anger and adrenaline racing through her body.
“What the hell is he doing to her? And why isn’t she screaming? Is she dead?”
Her interrogator clicked his tongue at her, coming to sit down across from her again.
“You disappoint me, Ms. Winters. If she was dead, she wouldn’t bleed. And I think you’re smart enough to figure out that Clark and our other...um...guest are here to demonstrate what will happen should you choose not to cooperate. So...let’s start over, shall we? Who gave you the disk?”
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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |
English Breakfast, Part 4
Her face was throbbing when Karen came too, and her head felt like it was the size of a watermelon. Instinctively she reached up to feel the damage, but her wrist popped back down with a painful thud to the hard surface it had been laying on.
Opening her eyes, she groaned and squinted against the harsh florescent light that seared into her brain like alcohol on an open wound. A thin metal shackle encircled her wrist, and she slowly lifted her head from the table to turn and see the other bound as well. The movement sent fresh pangs through her head and face and she squeezed her eyes shut and fists closed as she focused on breathing until the sharpness had passed.
A door opened, and she reluctantly peeked through her lashes at the man who entered the room. He let the door slam shut behind him and she jumped at another wave of agony drilling through her skull. The man who’d hit her must have been a damn tank, she thought as a metal chair screeching across the bare floor made her teeth grind together.
“I’m glad you’re finally awake,” the man said, sounding entirely too chipper for someone in his line of work. “This will be simple, though as you’ve already realized, not entirely painless. I ask questions, you answer them, we all go home. Nothing to it. So let’s get started. How did you end up with the flash drive you were looking at in your cafe?”
The man must have been a frickin’ chipmunk in a former life, Karen thought as her fuzzy brain scrambled to catch up. She’d been interrogated before, but usually by the stare-em-into-talking types. Maybe those guys should give this chatter-box technique a try. It seemed like an effective way to drive people insane.
She licked her lips and spoke slowly to enunciate past her half-swollen cheek.
“Someone gave it to me.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“Male or female? Tall or short? Skinny or fat? Pretty or ugly? I can play this game as long as you can, Ms. Winters. The problem is, I get bored easily. And when I get bored, I can’t always control my actions. I know your brain is a bit addled right now - Clark throws a mean jab, doesn’t he? Man’s built like a bulldozer. Personally, I don’t like to get my hands dirty. I’m a psych guy myself. I want to mess with your mind, but you probably guessed that. So I’ll give you one more chance to tell me who gave you that drive, and then things are gonna start getting serious. Who gave you the disk?”
Meeting his expectant stare with her one good eye, Karen swallowed, a faint metallic tang coating her tongue.
“Go. To. Hell.”
The man smiled, the expression an ugly caricature of surprised delight. He pushed back his chair slowly enough to draw out that horrid squeal that vibrated through her skull before he stood and flipped a switch on the wall behind him.
The mirror effect on the large window faded and a light came on in the room beyond. The lights in her room were dimmed, for which she was profoundly grateful until she really looked at the scene playing out in the other room.
A woman sat on the other side of the glass from Karen, behind an identical table. A very large man stood beside the table holding one of the woman’s arms stretched out the width of the surface. In his other hand he held a long blade, and as she watched, he lowered it to slide across the woman’s arm, leaving behind a thin, dark line.
Karen pulled at her chains, anger and adrenaline racing through her body.
“What the hell is he doing to her? And why isn’t she screaming? Is she dead?”
Her interrogator clicked his tongue at her, coming to sit down across from her again.
“You disappoint me, Ms. Winters. If she was dead, she wouldn’t bleed. And I think you’re smart enough to figure out that Clark and our other...um...guest are here to demonstrate what will happen should you choose not to cooperate. So...let’s start over, shall we? Who gave you the disk?”
Enjoy
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Romantic Suspense
| Erotic Romance | Contemporary Romance |
Suspense/Thriller
| Flash Fiction | Non-Fiction
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May 15, 2013
Talkin' Books: A Reading Slump, & TV Season Finales
Books Finished:
None
Books In Progress:
Edward Adrift
MM draft
Wild for You
Beautiful Sorrows
Comics Read:
None
Comics in Progress:
Age of Ultron #3
There are no spoilers in the TV section, just so you know...
The past week pretty much sucked for reading. I know that sounds
horrible, but I think every reader experiences a similar cycle
occasionally, where nothing you pick up is hitting the spot, so to
speak. I *am* enjoying my read through of the MM draft though, so that's
a bright spot. But it's beta reading, so I'm making comments and
reading with an editorial eye as I go, rather than strictly for
pleasure. I started another Beautiful Sorrows
story too, and am enjoying that as well. Aside from those two, I'm ready
to just delete everything off my kindle and start over, because I can't
seem to stick with anything past a couple pages. Dang it.
Although hubby is finished with (and a little freaked out by) the latest Rollins paperback - Bloodline . So maybe I'll start that tonight. His stories rarely fail to grab me regardless of my mindset.
Luckily, there are other forms of fiction to enjoy when this happens. It's finale week on TV (what, like you didn't know?), so Once Upon a Time and Castle
were pretty amazing Sunday and Monday nights. And last night we went to
a Primus concert (awesome) while our DVR worked overtime recording the
finales of NCIS , NCIS-LA & Body of Proof (series finale). We'll have to catch up with those later in the week, along with Grimm (which we'll stream from Hulu). Tonight is the Criminal Minds season finale, and tomorrow night the 2 hour finale of Elementary . Looks like Friday night might be a good time to catch up on the Tuesday shows we missed...
Dude, I didn't even sit down with any comic books this week. That's just sad, really.
Ah well. Eventually something will snag my interest again, and I'll be back in action. *sigh* Enjoy
this post? Support your author:
None
Books In Progress:
Edward Adrift
MM draft
Wild for You
Beautiful Sorrows
Comics Read:
None
Comics in Progress:
Age of Ultron #3
There are no spoilers in the TV section, just so you know...
The past week pretty much sucked for reading. I know that sounds
horrible, but I think every reader experiences a similar cycle
occasionally, where nothing you pick up is hitting the spot, so to
speak. I *am* enjoying my read through of the MM draft though, so that's
a bright spot. But it's beta reading, so I'm making comments and
reading with an editorial eye as I go, rather than strictly for
pleasure. I started another Beautiful Sorrows
story too, and am enjoying that as well. Aside from those two, I'm ready
to just delete everything off my kindle and start over, because I can't
seem to stick with anything past a couple pages. Dang it.
Although hubby is finished with (and a little freaked out by) the latest Rollins paperback - Bloodline . So maybe I'll start that tonight. His stories rarely fail to grab me regardless of my mindset.
Luckily, there are other forms of fiction to enjoy when this happens. It's finale week on TV (what, like you didn't know?), so Once Upon a Time and Castle
were pretty amazing Sunday and Monday nights. And last night we went to
a Primus concert (awesome) while our DVR worked overtime recording the
finales of NCIS , NCIS-LA & Body of Proof (series finale). We'll have to catch up with those later in the week, along with Grimm (which we'll stream from Hulu). Tonight is the Criminal Minds season finale, and tomorrow night the 2 hour finale of Elementary . Looks like Friday night might be a good time to catch up on the Tuesday shows we missed...
Dude, I didn't even sit down with any comic books this week. That's just sad, really.
Ah well. Eventually something will snag my interest again, and I'll be back in action. *sigh* Enjoy
this post? Support your author:
Romantic Suspense
| Erotic Romance | Contemporary Romance |
Suspense/Thriller
| Flash Fiction | Non-Fiction
**Please
note - If this is your first time posting, your comment
will be moderated. Once you have been approved, future comments will post automatically.
May 13, 2013
New Tech, Little Women & Mean Girls...
Last week was...well, less productive than I wanted it to be, but not as unproductive as it could have been. So basically kind of average, I guess. Somehow I still ended up behind both on work and writing projects by the end of it, but not as far as I could have been. The bright spot was getting my longevity check on Friday - basically a bonus I get every year for the years I've been at my day job that goes up incrementally every year. I've been there 14 years now, so my check was a nice little sum this year - enough to put most of it away to buy my husband a table saw, and I used the remainder to replace my Acer 10 inch tablet with a sleek new Samsung Galaxy Note 8 (8 inch) tablet w/S Pen capabilities.
I love new tech, but I hate it too. It's a lot of work customizing a new gadget to work like you want it too, signing into apps that you haven't had to log into for a long time (and thus have no idea what the passwords are), and deciding what to move over vs. what's just clutter and really isn't needed any longer. Needless to say, I spent quite a few hours on Saturday getting most of that done, and I'm still working on the last minute tweaks (like finding all the sound notifications that need to be turned off and organizing my app screens for optimal use).
The calendar system on the new tablet is awesome though, and does a great job of picking up where Wunderlist leaves off. So between the two of them, I have an insanely effective organizational structure that I'm pretty excited about. And the handwriting recognition is amazing...note-taking is going to be much easier from now on.
Yesterday I stumbled across Little Women (the movie) on TV, and while I was watching it and reminiscing, I noticed something that I never have before (which is odd considering I've read and watched the story a zillion times before). When Jo is showing the professor her writing, he looks down on her for the type of fiction she writes - escapist fiction, basically. And he basically tells her she can do so much better if she's brave enough to try.
I've been really thinking a lot lately about why I write the things that I write, and what potential my stories have for affecting/influencing readers. So that particular little side-story in Little Women really hit home with me this weekend. Honestly, even though I write genre fiction, I feel like I tackle some issues and ideas that require some very heavy thinking and personal courage to write about, and sometimes I really waffle about whether putting those thoughts on paper will influence readers in a bad way. I'm not sure there's a right or wrong answer there, but it's certainly something I think a lot about. The similar theme in Little Women makes me wonder if Louisa May Alcott struggled with the same thing before finally giving in/digging in and writing the literary classics we know today.
As for my beating up my heroines, in the comments last week there was a tongue-in-cheek implication that perhaps there had been a lot of mean girls in my early life that I was getting back at by torturing my fictional leading ladies. It's an amusing (and somewhat satisfying) thought, but I'm afraid I can't use it as an excuse. I did know a few "mean girls" in school (who didn't?), but I was home schooled from 3rd grade through high school, and I worked nearly full-time from the time I turned 15 on up (started volunteering part time when I was 12 or so). Needless to say, I wasn't around kids my age in large enough time blocks in social situations to have more than a few friends at any given time. In college, I worked two and three jobs to pay for tuition, and I lived at home. So my social interaction was very limited there too - whenever I wasn't in class I was working, writing papers, or catching a few hours of sleep. The few truly "mean" girls I knew just were never worth any time or thought, honestly. Whenever I actually had time to socialize, I hung out with people I knew and liked, and avoided those I didn't.
So why do I run my heroines through the proverbial wringer? Simply put, I throw a lot at my characters because I want to see what they're made out of. I want to give them every chance to grow and realize just how strong they can be when they need to be, and I want to give readers that message too - that we are all stronger than we realize, and even when life throws the worst possible scenario at us, we can still pull through and pick up the pieces afterwards.
That, and lots of action/adventure/conflict makes a good story, in my opinion. A story where life was easy and everything was hunky-dory would be boring.
Speaking of the mundane...here's my to-do list for the week.
- Serial scenes for all four stories
- Two scenes for the sci-fi draft
- The next installment for Mr. Mysterious
- Finish reading through/marking up a draft for a friend
- Cover art
- Start walking the dogs (3 evenings this week)
- Finish a little crochet project I'm working on, and start another due in June
- Watch season finale's of several shows. It always makes me sad when summer TV break comes...
That's it for this week...here's to good weather and great writing karma all around, eh?
Enjoy
this post? Support your author:
I love new tech, but I hate it too. It's a lot of work customizing a new gadget to work like you want it too, signing into apps that you haven't had to log into for a long time (and thus have no idea what the passwords are), and deciding what to move over vs. what's just clutter and really isn't needed any longer. Needless to say, I spent quite a few hours on Saturday getting most of that done, and I'm still working on the last minute tweaks (like finding all the sound notifications that need to be turned off and organizing my app screens for optimal use).
The calendar system on the new tablet is awesome though, and does a great job of picking up where Wunderlist leaves off. So between the two of them, I have an insanely effective organizational structure that I'm pretty excited about. And the handwriting recognition is amazing...note-taking is going to be much easier from now on.
Yesterday I stumbled across Little Women (the movie) on TV, and while I was watching it and reminiscing, I noticed something that I never have before (which is odd considering I've read and watched the story a zillion times before). When Jo is showing the professor her writing, he looks down on her for the type of fiction she writes - escapist fiction, basically. And he basically tells her she can do so much better if she's brave enough to try.
I've been really thinking a lot lately about why I write the things that I write, and what potential my stories have for affecting/influencing readers. So that particular little side-story in Little Women really hit home with me this weekend. Honestly, even though I write genre fiction, I feel like I tackle some issues and ideas that require some very heavy thinking and personal courage to write about, and sometimes I really waffle about whether putting those thoughts on paper will influence readers in a bad way. I'm not sure there's a right or wrong answer there, but it's certainly something I think a lot about. The similar theme in Little Women makes me wonder if Louisa May Alcott struggled with the same thing before finally giving in/digging in and writing the literary classics we know today.
As for my beating up my heroines, in the comments last week there was a tongue-in-cheek implication that perhaps there had been a lot of mean girls in my early life that I was getting back at by torturing my fictional leading ladies. It's an amusing (and somewhat satisfying) thought, but I'm afraid I can't use it as an excuse. I did know a few "mean girls" in school (who didn't?), but I was home schooled from 3rd grade through high school, and I worked nearly full-time from the time I turned 15 on up (started volunteering part time when I was 12 or so). Needless to say, I wasn't around kids my age in large enough time blocks in social situations to have more than a few friends at any given time. In college, I worked two and three jobs to pay for tuition, and I lived at home. So my social interaction was very limited there too - whenever I wasn't in class I was working, writing papers, or catching a few hours of sleep. The few truly "mean" girls I knew just were never worth any time or thought, honestly. Whenever I actually had time to socialize, I hung out with people I knew and liked, and avoided those I didn't.
So why do I run my heroines through the proverbial wringer? Simply put, I throw a lot at my characters because I want to see what they're made out of. I want to give them every chance to grow and realize just how strong they can be when they need to be, and I want to give readers that message too - that we are all stronger than we realize, and even when life throws the worst possible scenario at us, we can still pull through and pick up the pieces afterwards.
That, and lots of action/adventure/conflict makes a good story, in my opinion. A story where life was easy and everything was hunky-dory would be boring.
Speaking of the mundane...here's my to-do list for the week.
- Serial scenes for all four stories
- Two scenes for the sci-fi draft
- The next installment for Mr. Mysterious
- Finish reading through/marking up a draft for a friend
- Cover art
- Start walking the dogs (3 evenings this week)
- Finish a little crochet project I'm working on, and start another due in June
- Watch season finale's of several shows. It always makes me sad when summer TV break comes...
That's it for this week...here's to good weather and great writing karma all around, eh?
Enjoy
this post? Support your author:
Romantic Suspense
| Erotic Romance | Contemporary Romance |
Suspense/Thriller
| Flash Fiction | Non-Fiction
**Please
note - If this is your first time posting, your comment
will be moderated. Once you have been approved, future comments will post automatically.
May 10, 2013
Serial Story: English Breakfast, Part 3
This story is presented weekly in draft format.
Part 1 | Part 2 |
English Breakfast, Part 3
The officer took a notebook and pen out of his pocket. “Can you tell me what happened, in your own words?”
Resisting the urge to reply with a smart remark about using someone else’s words, Karen took another sip of tea before answering.
“I was standing behind the bar at my laptop and someone threw a metal canister through the window. It bounced off the floor and I knew it was going to blow, so I hid behind the bar. After the explosion, there was a lot of gunfire. I crawled to the kitchen door and ran out the back to the alley.”
The officer nodded, quickly jotting notes down. His badge said Wilson, and she wondered what his first name was.
“Was there anyone else with you in the shop at the time?”
“No,” she said, blinking back tears. “It was my first day, actually. Not too many people even knew about it yet. I guess that’s good, considering.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” The officer scribbled some more, and then looked up with a frown. “How did you know the metal canister was a bomb? And that the sounds afterward came from gunfire?”
She took another sip of tea. “Until recently, I worked for Stetson Security. Familiarity with weapons was part of the job.” She didn’t offer more, knowing even the little she’d given him would trigger a whole new set of questions.
To his credit, he managed to keep his expression neutral, save for a slightly-raised eyebrow. Then again, Kane Stetson had worked hard to build a good repertoire with local law enforcement, which is far more than most security firms did. He wouldn’t appreciate the fact that she’d had to mention him now though, considering the gag order on the current case.
“Any idea why someone would want to burn down your new store?”
Just one really good one...
She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I really don’t know. I wasn’t open long enough to poison anyone.”
Officer Wilson didn’t return her small smile, but he did close his notebook and put it back in his pocket. Taking a business card out of another pocket, he wrote something on the back.
“If you think of anything else, give me a call. I’ll be in touch regarding the investigation. Do you need someone to take you home?”
Karen shook her head again. “I live a few blocks over. I can walk. But thanks. Am I free to go?”
He nodded. “As soon as the paramedics clear you. I’ll let you know when you can get into the store for any valuables you’d like to collect.”
“Thank you.” She watched him wander off in the direction of her smouldering shop. It felt odd, leaving her store open and vulnerable, but she knew there was nothing she could do, and they wouldn’t let her in until it was safe. The only thing she could do now was to go home and wait.”
* * * *
Half an hour later Karen finally let herself into her condo, thankful that one of the firefighters had been thoughtful enough to retrieve her purse and keys from the back office while they were checking for hot spots. It had taken some convincing and a thorough search before Officer Wilson agreed to let her take what he considered evidence from the scene, but considering the only items in there had been her cell phone, keys, and wallet, he settled for just keeping the cell. Unfortunately, it was her only phone, so she’d be incommunicado aside from email until she got it back.
Locking the door behind her, she dropped her purse and keys on the kitchen counter and went to the refrigerator. It was nearly six, and she knew she should eat, but food wasn’t what she was after. Retrieving a half-empty bottle of wine, she got a glass tumbler from the cupboard and poured a healthy dose of the red elixir in a shaky stream. Shoving the cork back into the bottle, she set it on the counter and took a large swig from the glass, wishing she kept tequila on hand. It felt more like a hard-liquor night, but leftovers would just have to do.
Putting the wine bottle back in the fridge, she took the tumbler with her up the stairs, down the hall and through the master bedroom to a generous en suite bathroom. One more swallow and she set the glass down, stripping off her clothing and turning on the shower. She stepped under the warm spray and pulled the glass door shut behind her.
Tilting her head back with her eyes closed, she let the water sluice through her hair, her fingers trembling as they stroked through the long strands. Steam surrounded her in a cocoon of heat, but still she shivered as she leaned one shoulder against the wall.
That’s when the tears came.
Emotion wracked her body and she sank to the tile floor, unable to stop the heavy sobs as they ripped from her heart. Everything she’d worked for, gone. The new life she’d been trying to built, burned to the ground in less than an hour, all because her past wouldn’t let her go.
She was ruined. Even if the insurance paid out, it wouldn’t be enough to get the shop back to what it had been. She didn’t really have any friends, her family was gone, and the bank sure wasn’t going to sympathize with her plight.
The water started to cool down, and she swiped her eyes before reaching around to move the faucet handle closer to hot. Pushing to her feet, she let the stream massage her face for a few seconds, washing away the hurt and leaving only a numb, empty hole in it’s place.
Quickly washing her hair, she turned off the water and stepped out to wrap herself in a large pink towel. Starting toward the bedroom, she stopped in the doorway and frowned. Scanning the room, she took stock, but she didn’t see anything out of place or missing. Not that she’d remember, anyway.
Still, something felt off. The house was too quiet. She pulled her clothes on as quickly as possible even as she tried to convince herself it was just paranoia sparked by the day’s events.
Then the bathroom door flew open, nearly hitting her. She jumped back out of the way and lost her balance, hitting the floor hard. Before she could process what was happening rough hands pulled her off the floor and a hard set of knuckles exploded into her left cheek.
Enjoy
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Part 1 | Part 2 |
English Breakfast, Part 3
The officer took a notebook and pen out of his pocket. “Can you tell me what happened, in your own words?”
Resisting the urge to reply with a smart remark about using someone else’s words, Karen took another sip of tea before answering.
“I was standing behind the bar at my laptop and someone threw a metal canister through the window. It bounced off the floor and I knew it was going to blow, so I hid behind the bar. After the explosion, there was a lot of gunfire. I crawled to the kitchen door and ran out the back to the alley.”
The officer nodded, quickly jotting notes down. His badge said Wilson, and she wondered what his first name was.
“Was there anyone else with you in the shop at the time?”
“No,” she said, blinking back tears. “It was my first day, actually. Not too many people even knew about it yet. I guess that’s good, considering.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” The officer scribbled some more, and then looked up with a frown. “How did you know the metal canister was a bomb? And that the sounds afterward came from gunfire?”
She took another sip of tea. “Until recently, I worked for Stetson Security. Familiarity with weapons was part of the job.” She didn’t offer more, knowing even the little she’d given him would trigger a whole new set of questions.
To his credit, he managed to keep his expression neutral, save for a slightly-raised eyebrow. Then again, Kane Stetson had worked hard to build a good repertoire with local law enforcement, which is far more than most security firms did. He wouldn’t appreciate the fact that she’d had to mention him now though, considering the gag order on the current case.
“Any idea why someone would want to burn down your new store?”
Just one really good one...
She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I really don’t know. I wasn’t open long enough to poison anyone.”
Officer Wilson didn’t return her small smile, but he did close his notebook and put it back in his pocket. Taking a business card out of another pocket, he wrote something on the back.
“If you think of anything else, give me a call. I’ll be in touch regarding the investigation. Do you need someone to take you home?”
Karen shook her head again. “I live a few blocks over. I can walk. But thanks. Am I free to go?”
He nodded. “As soon as the paramedics clear you. I’ll let you know when you can get into the store for any valuables you’d like to collect.”
“Thank you.” She watched him wander off in the direction of her smouldering shop. It felt odd, leaving her store open and vulnerable, but she knew there was nothing she could do, and they wouldn’t let her in until it was safe. The only thing she could do now was to go home and wait.”
* * * *
Half an hour later Karen finally let herself into her condo, thankful that one of the firefighters had been thoughtful enough to retrieve her purse and keys from the back office while they were checking for hot spots. It had taken some convincing and a thorough search before Officer Wilson agreed to let her take what he considered evidence from the scene, but considering the only items in there had been her cell phone, keys, and wallet, he settled for just keeping the cell. Unfortunately, it was her only phone, so she’d be incommunicado aside from email until she got it back.
Locking the door behind her, she dropped her purse and keys on the kitchen counter and went to the refrigerator. It was nearly six, and she knew she should eat, but food wasn’t what she was after. Retrieving a half-empty bottle of wine, she got a glass tumbler from the cupboard and poured a healthy dose of the red elixir in a shaky stream. Shoving the cork back into the bottle, she set it on the counter and took a large swig from the glass, wishing she kept tequila on hand. It felt more like a hard-liquor night, but leftovers would just have to do.
Putting the wine bottle back in the fridge, she took the tumbler with her up the stairs, down the hall and through the master bedroom to a generous en suite bathroom. One more swallow and she set the glass down, stripping off her clothing and turning on the shower. She stepped under the warm spray and pulled the glass door shut behind her.
Tilting her head back with her eyes closed, she let the water sluice through her hair, her fingers trembling as they stroked through the long strands. Steam surrounded her in a cocoon of heat, but still she shivered as she leaned one shoulder against the wall.
That’s when the tears came.
Emotion wracked her body and she sank to the tile floor, unable to stop the heavy sobs as they ripped from her heart. Everything she’d worked for, gone. The new life she’d been trying to built, burned to the ground in less than an hour, all because her past wouldn’t let her go.
She was ruined. Even if the insurance paid out, it wouldn’t be enough to get the shop back to what it had been. She didn’t really have any friends, her family was gone, and the bank sure wasn’t going to sympathize with her plight.
The water started to cool down, and she swiped her eyes before reaching around to move the faucet handle closer to hot. Pushing to her feet, she let the stream massage her face for a few seconds, washing away the hurt and leaving only a numb, empty hole in it’s place.
Quickly washing her hair, she turned off the water and stepped out to wrap herself in a large pink towel. Starting toward the bedroom, she stopped in the doorway and frowned. Scanning the room, she took stock, but she didn’t see anything out of place or missing. Not that she’d remember, anyway.
Still, something felt off. The house was too quiet. She pulled her clothes on as quickly as possible even as she tried to convince herself it was just paranoia sparked by the day’s events.
Then the bathroom door flew open, nearly hitting her. She jumped back out of the way and lost her balance, hitting the floor hard. Before she could process what was happening rough hands pulled her off the floor and a hard set of knuckles exploded into her left cheek.
Enjoy
this post? Support your author:
Romantic Suspense
| Erotic Romance | Contemporary Romance |
Suspense/Thriller
| Flash Fiction | Non-Fiction
**Please
note - If this is your first time posting, your comment
will be moderated. Once you have been approved, future comments will post automatically.
May 8, 2013
Talkin' Books: Disappointments, Possibilities & Suitable Shorts
Books Finished:
The Governess Affair
Books In Progress:
Edward Adrift
MM draft
Wild for You
Beautiful Sorrows
Comics Read:
Justice League #18
Justice League #19
Comics in Progress:
Age of Ultron #3
I've been having some trouble getting into the books I've started recently. I started one that I'm not even going to name, because the first 25 pages or so (out of around 600 total) mostly had me just wishing all the characters would die. Even the would-be protagonist (note, my husband made it through the whole thing, and he said it doesn't get any better). I'm not one of those people who finishes books just to finish - if they don't grab me, I put them down and odds aren't good that I'll pick them back up. There are too many *good* books out there waiting for me to read them...
Speaking of good books - if you're a historical romance fan, I think The Governess Affair by Courtney Milan is still free for Kindle. I picked it up last week and read it in a couple days this weekend. She's easily one of my favorite authors...I buy her books whenever I want a great historical about a strong woman doing what women weren't supposed to do back then. Great stuff!
I started Edward Adrift by Craig Lancaster...and I'm sad to say that while I realize Edward's been through a lot, the character just isn't ringing true for me anymore for some reason. I won't get into specifics, but I'm finding parts of this sequel rather unbelievable, which isn't helping. And all the swearing just seems more like he's stumbled into some kind of controlled turrets (?) syndrome. I may keep reading, I may not...we'll see. I wanted to like this book, but it's kind of just annoying me at this point.
Wild for You by Sophia Knightly is a romantic suspense, and held my attention for a little while, but it's kind of losing me too. Normally as long as the grammar/structure of a story is more or less "average", I ignore little nits/misses here and there. And there's nothing wrong with the grammar/punctuation of this story - not so I'd notice, anyways. But head-hopping - switching character points of view without a clear scene change or some sort of space between paragraphs just to signal a clear switch - that confuses me, and stops the flow of the story for me. I just ran into one such instance early on, and I'm not sure if it's just a slight formatting mistake or if that's her personal "style". I'll probably keep reading eventually...for awhile, anyways.
I was so "adrift" in my current reads last night that I knew I needed something guaranteed to be good, so I opened up Beautiful Sorrows by Mercedes Yardley. I finished the story I'd left off on, a lovely and sort of sad little story about a boy with holes in his hands, and then continued on to the next story wherein a man is out on a ledge contemplating suicide, and the person inside working wishes he would either jump, or not, but ultimately quit being so distracting. It suited my mood perfectly just then.
After finally getting my hands on a copy of Justice League #18 this past weekend, I read that, and then my copy of #19. I was...underwhelmed by #18, and #19 wasn't the grandiose issue I'd been expecting either. Dang it. I don't know that I'll be following this series regularly...we'll see, but it's not like I don't already have plenty to read...
I've started catching up on Age of Ultron as well, though once again, I bought the latest copy without the copy before that. I really need to keep better track of what I have and what I'm buying while I'm in the store. A smaller tablet will make that less cumbersome, methinks.
I'll finish that draft today or tomorrow - I should have finished it last week, but sort of got distracted. Thing is, you can't go wrong with a Carol Ward book, draft form or final. I love that.
And that's my week in books. A lovely novella, a very suitable short story, and several disappointments. Here's to better reading this next week, eh?
Enjoy
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The Governess Affair
Books In Progress:
Edward Adrift
MM draft
Wild for You
Beautiful Sorrows
Comics Read:
Justice League #18
Justice League #19
Comics in Progress:
Age of Ultron #3
I've been having some trouble getting into the books I've started recently. I started one that I'm not even going to name, because the first 25 pages or so (out of around 600 total) mostly had me just wishing all the characters would die. Even the would-be protagonist (note, my husband made it through the whole thing, and he said it doesn't get any better). I'm not one of those people who finishes books just to finish - if they don't grab me, I put them down and odds aren't good that I'll pick them back up. There are too many *good* books out there waiting for me to read them...
Speaking of good books - if you're a historical romance fan, I think The Governess Affair by Courtney Milan is still free for Kindle. I picked it up last week and read it in a couple days this weekend. She's easily one of my favorite authors...I buy her books whenever I want a great historical about a strong woman doing what women weren't supposed to do back then. Great stuff!
I started Edward Adrift by Craig Lancaster...and I'm sad to say that while I realize Edward's been through a lot, the character just isn't ringing true for me anymore for some reason. I won't get into specifics, but I'm finding parts of this sequel rather unbelievable, which isn't helping. And all the swearing just seems more like he's stumbled into some kind of controlled turrets (?) syndrome. I may keep reading, I may not...we'll see. I wanted to like this book, but it's kind of just annoying me at this point.
Wild for You by Sophia Knightly is a romantic suspense, and held my attention for a little while, but it's kind of losing me too. Normally as long as the grammar/structure of a story is more or less "average", I ignore little nits/misses here and there. And there's nothing wrong with the grammar/punctuation of this story - not so I'd notice, anyways. But head-hopping - switching character points of view without a clear scene change or some sort of space between paragraphs just to signal a clear switch - that confuses me, and stops the flow of the story for me. I just ran into one such instance early on, and I'm not sure if it's just a slight formatting mistake or if that's her personal "style". I'll probably keep reading eventually...for awhile, anyways.
I was so "adrift" in my current reads last night that I knew I needed something guaranteed to be good, so I opened up Beautiful Sorrows by Mercedes Yardley. I finished the story I'd left off on, a lovely and sort of sad little story about a boy with holes in his hands, and then continued on to the next story wherein a man is out on a ledge contemplating suicide, and the person inside working wishes he would either jump, or not, but ultimately quit being so distracting. It suited my mood perfectly just then.
After finally getting my hands on a copy of Justice League #18 this past weekend, I read that, and then my copy of #19. I was...underwhelmed by #18, and #19 wasn't the grandiose issue I'd been expecting either. Dang it. I don't know that I'll be following this series regularly...we'll see, but it's not like I don't already have plenty to read...
I've started catching up on Age of Ultron as well, though once again, I bought the latest copy without the copy before that. I really need to keep better track of what I have and what I'm buying while I'm in the store. A smaller tablet will make that less cumbersome, methinks.
I'll finish that draft today or tomorrow - I should have finished it last week, but sort of got distracted. Thing is, you can't go wrong with a Carol Ward book, draft form or final. I love that.
And that's my week in books. A lovely novella, a very suitable short story, and several disappointments. Here's to better reading this next week, eh?
Enjoy
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Romantic Suspense
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