Jamie DeBree's Blog, page 44
March 19, 2012
Weekly News & Prompt, March 19, 2012
Week 10 Prompt: A man sits on the ground near a
crumbling gravestone in an old cemetery. Holding up the half-empty
bottle at his side, he toasts the grave, and then takes a long swig,
swirling the remaining liquid as if mesmerized by the action. Behind
him, a twig snaps...
As
you may have noticed, I didn't get this week's flash story done. Could I
have made time for it? Absolutely. I chose to do other things instead
(cleaning/reorganizing, mostly). The obsessive/compulsive part of my
nature has been in full-swing for the last week, which has made getting
anything done rather difficult (as it always does). I am nearly to the
spent point with it though, which is a relief. Hopefully I can move on
soon. It's actually exhausting spending so much brainpower on one
subject for so long.
So
we'll let last week's prompt stand for this week, and move along. If I
happen to really get on the ball, maybe I'll get two stories done this
week. You never know.
Let's see...news. Oh! No Hazard Pay, a
collection of four suspense flash fiction stories by my alter-ego, Alex
Westhaven is finally out for sale. If you read flash fiction, and don't
mind a murder & some strange happenings, go check it out at the BSB
store (links there to other places). Good stuff, if I do say so myself.
And
my next flash collection should be out by Friday, though I'm waffling
on the title (and thus the cover). Heart Wants is my current choice, but
it doesn't flow as well as I'd like. So we'll see. Hopefully when I go
back to give them one last polish something will jump out at me.
Only
four more weekends until taxes are due, which means I really need to
kick my bookkeeping skills into gear. Especially since 1099's are due by
April 2nd, and while I *hope* I don't have to issue any, I can think of
one person I might need to do that for. Here's hoping I'm under that
$600 threshold...but I won't find out until I finish getting my expenses
recorded. So that really has to be top priority for this coming
weekend.
I've
been really working hard at doubling the length of the serial
posts...which will cut the amount of time it takes me to finish a draft
in half. It takes a little "brain training", and that's what I'll
discuss on Wednesday's Writer's Notes post.
As
far as this week's writing goes...I'll be writing: a meeting with a
very bad guy in a barn, the fate of an FBI consultant suspected by a
killer of being a killer , the seduction of a woman who craves
boundaries, but doesn't want to admit it, and a rock star doing his best
to help an author escape a plane so he can claim his "hero" moment. Fun
stuff, all around!
Here's to another topsy-turvy week...
crumbling gravestone in an old cemetery. Holding up the half-empty
bottle at his side, he toasts the grave, and then takes a long swig,
swirling the remaining liquid as if mesmerized by the action. Behind
him, a twig snaps...
As
you may have noticed, I didn't get this week's flash story done. Could I
have made time for it? Absolutely. I chose to do other things instead
(cleaning/reorganizing, mostly). The obsessive/compulsive part of my
nature has been in full-swing for the last week, which has made getting
anything done rather difficult (as it always does). I am nearly to the
spent point with it though, which is a relief. Hopefully I can move on
soon. It's actually exhausting spending so much brainpower on one
subject for so long.
So
we'll let last week's prompt stand for this week, and move along. If I
happen to really get on the ball, maybe I'll get two stories done this
week. You never know.
Let's see...news. Oh! No Hazard Pay, a
collection of four suspense flash fiction stories by my alter-ego, Alex
Westhaven is finally out for sale. If you read flash fiction, and don't
mind a murder & some strange happenings, go check it out at the BSB
store (links there to other places). Good stuff, if I do say so myself.
And
my next flash collection should be out by Friday, though I'm waffling
on the title (and thus the cover). Heart Wants is my current choice, but
it doesn't flow as well as I'd like. So we'll see. Hopefully when I go
back to give them one last polish something will jump out at me.
Only
four more weekends until taxes are due, which means I really need to
kick my bookkeeping skills into gear. Especially since 1099's are due by
April 2nd, and while I *hope* I don't have to issue any, I can think of
one person I might need to do that for. Here's hoping I'm under that
$600 threshold...but I won't find out until I finish getting my expenses
recorded. So that really has to be top priority for this coming
weekend.
I've
been really working hard at doubling the length of the serial
posts...which will cut the amount of time it takes me to finish a draft
in half. It takes a little "brain training", and that's what I'll
discuss on Wednesday's Writer's Notes post.
As
far as this week's writing goes...I'll be writing: a meeting with a
very bad guy in a barn, the fate of an FBI consultant suspected by a
killer of being a killer , the seduction of a woman who craves
boundaries, but doesn't want to admit it, and a rock star doing his best
to help an author escape a plane so he can claim his "hero" moment. Fun
stuff, all around!
Here's to another topsy-turvy week...
Enjoy
this post? Support your author:
Romantic Suspense
| Erotica | 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.
March 16, 2012
Serial Novel: Falling in Public, Ch. 42
This serial novel is posted in draft form every Friday.
Ch.1|Ch. 2|Ch. 3|Ch. 4|Ch. 5|Ch. 6|Ch. 7|Ch. 8|Ch. 9|Ch. 10|Ch. 11|Ch. 12|Ch.13|Ch. 14|Ch. 15| Ch. 16| Ch. 17|Ch. 18| Ch. 19 | Ch. 20 | Ch. 21 | Ch. 22 | Ch. 23 | Ch. 24 | Ch. 25 | Ch. 26 | Ch. 27 | Ch. 28 | Ch. 29 | Ch. 30 | Ch. 31 | Ch. 32 | Ch. 33 | Ch. 34 | Ch. 35 | Ch. 36 | Ch. 37 | Ch. 38 | Ch. 39 | Ch. 40 | Ch. 42 |
Falling in Public
Chapter 42
Holly pulled back on the throttle, the lever shaking in her hand as the aircraft descended fast.
Too fast.
"We're doing this wrong," she yelled, watching the earth rise up underneath them. "Eddie, we're gonna crash!"
He wrestled with the yoke, struggling to keep the nose in the air and she wondered if he could hold it. He was strong, but the plane was huge. She was sure the controls would be ripped out of his hands at any second.
The aircraft swayed from side to side, fighting to shake off the gravitational pull. Then they touched down, and the shock was jarring, throwing Holly against her restraints toward the dash as she felt the tail end of the plane bouce once, twice, three times. Each time the nose went down, she was certain the plane would go end-over-end, and they'd be crushed in the process.
One of the wings dipped on the fhird bounce, and stuck, spinning the craft in a wide semi-circle before it finally came to a stop. The engine revved, and Holly reached out to pull the throttle back all the way, until the beast shuddered and died.
Holly looked at Eddie, now several feet lower than she was with the plane nearly on it's side. Relieved when he looked back at her, she shook her head.
"I never want to do that again. Actually, I don't think I ever want to fly again. That was rough."
Eddie inhaled, then let his breath out in a long sigh. "Can't say I disagree with you right at this moment. We did it though. And you have to admit, it was a hellofva ride."
"Yeah, well, let's not plan on a repeat, okay?" Holly squirmed in the safety harness, feeling the bruises that would certainly be showing up on her shoulders. "Now how do we get out of this thing?"
Eddie looked to his right, then swung his feet over and braced them against the wall. "Hang on a sec." Releasing his harness, he held onto his seat for support, then climbed up on the side of it, using one foot against the instrument panel to keep the seat from swiveling.
"Turn your chair so your back is to me. Then you can unfasten your belts without falling."
It took a few seconds to find hand-holds, but Holly managed to pull herself around like he'd instructed, so she was basically lying on her back. She unhooked the harness, careful to keep one foot tight against the window above her so she wouldn't spin out of her seat.
"Okay, now what?" She carefully turned her head toward the cockpit door in time to see Eddie with his back on one side of the wall and his feet on the other, trying to reach the door handle. He shimmied up a few more inches, and finally got it, pushing the door up to open it while trying to maintain his precarious position.
"Let me get into the hall," he said, grasping the doorframe with both hands. "I should be able to pull you up then." He took a deep breath, then pushed with his feet as he pulled his shoulders through the doorway. A few more twists and turns, and his feet disappeared. Holly pictured what the short hall would look like now that it was half on it's side. The steep angle was not going to be fun to negotiate.
"Okay." Eddie's head and hands appeared in the opening again. "If you can just turn around in your seat so you're kneeling on the back, you should be able to reach for my hands. Then I'll pull you up. Just be careful the seat doesn't swivel, or you'll fall."
"Sure," Holly said, looking for something to grab. "Piece of cake, right?" She slowly started to turn in the seat, her pulse tripping when it rocked under her movements. She was nearly on her side when her top leg caught the yoke. A jolt of pain ripped through her healing leg, and she closed her eyes, counting to five as she waited for the pain to subside.
"You can do it," Eddie said quietly when she finally looked up at him. "Take your time."
She nodded, took a deep breath, and then repositioned her legs to bring the bottom one under first, and then the top. Finally kneeling on the back of the seat, she took a minute to breathe.
"Maybe you should just leave me here, go get help. I'm not sure how I'll be able to climb out with this stupid leg. How are we even going to get to the ground once we find a door?"
Eddie grinned. "The wing of the plane is on the ground. That's why we're stuck scaling metal, remember? I figure if the emergency slide doesn't work, we'll slide down the wing." He shifted, propping his chest against the threshold and looking back toward his feet for a moment before holding out his hand.
"Come on, Holly. I'm not leaving you. Buck up and start climbing. Consider it research for your next book."
She laughed, a pathetic, whiny sound. "I write romance novels, you dolt. Not action/adventure flicks."
He shrugged. "What? You don't think this is romantic? This is my chance to be the hero, and rescue a damsel in distress. Don't blow it for me, dammit."
She rolled her eyes, but dutifully reached for his hand. "Fine. But you should know I could never write about this." She placed her other hand on the wall, and then steeled herself for the pain as she put her foot on what looked like the side of a coat hook under normal circumstances. Holding her breath, she stood up on the chair supported by her good leg and then reached up to grab the doorframe next to Eddie's shoulder.
"Why not?" Eddie waited until she jumped toward him and then pulled, rolling to his side as she landed half-way thorugh the door.
Holly finished pulling herself up and propped her toes on the edge of the door while she tried to catch her breath. Thankfully, her leg had gone numb once her hips hit the edge of the opening, so the pain was surprisingly managable. For now. She chuckled.
"Do you seriously think anyone would believe all this?"
Ch.1|Ch. 2|Ch. 3|Ch. 4|Ch. 5|Ch. 6|Ch. 7|Ch. 8|Ch. 9|Ch. 10|Ch. 11|Ch. 12|Ch.13|Ch. 14|Ch. 15| Ch. 16| Ch. 17|Ch. 18| Ch. 19 | Ch. 20 | Ch. 21 | Ch. 22 | Ch. 23 | Ch. 24 | Ch. 25 | Ch. 26 | Ch. 27 | Ch. 28 | Ch. 29 | Ch. 30 | Ch. 31 | Ch. 32 | Ch. 33 | Ch. 34 | Ch. 35 | Ch. 36 | Ch. 37 | Ch. 38 | Ch. 39 | Ch. 40 | Ch. 42 |
Falling in Public
Chapter 42
Holly pulled back on the throttle, the lever shaking in her hand as the aircraft descended fast.
Too fast.
"We're doing this wrong," she yelled, watching the earth rise up underneath them. "Eddie, we're gonna crash!"
He wrestled with the yoke, struggling to keep the nose in the air and she wondered if he could hold it. He was strong, but the plane was huge. She was sure the controls would be ripped out of his hands at any second.
The aircraft swayed from side to side, fighting to shake off the gravitational pull. Then they touched down, and the shock was jarring, throwing Holly against her restraints toward the dash as she felt the tail end of the plane bouce once, twice, three times. Each time the nose went down, she was certain the plane would go end-over-end, and they'd be crushed in the process.
One of the wings dipped on the fhird bounce, and stuck, spinning the craft in a wide semi-circle before it finally came to a stop. The engine revved, and Holly reached out to pull the throttle back all the way, until the beast shuddered and died.
Holly looked at Eddie, now several feet lower than she was with the plane nearly on it's side. Relieved when he looked back at her, she shook her head.
"I never want to do that again. Actually, I don't think I ever want to fly again. That was rough."
Eddie inhaled, then let his breath out in a long sigh. "Can't say I disagree with you right at this moment. We did it though. And you have to admit, it was a hellofva ride."
"Yeah, well, let's not plan on a repeat, okay?" Holly squirmed in the safety harness, feeling the bruises that would certainly be showing up on her shoulders. "Now how do we get out of this thing?"
Eddie looked to his right, then swung his feet over and braced them against the wall. "Hang on a sec." Releasing his harness, he held onto his seat for support, then climbed up on the side of it, using one foot against the instrument panel to keep the seat from swiveling.
"Turn your chair so your back is to me. Then you can unfasten your belts without falling."
It took a few seconds to find hand-holds, but Holly managed to pull herself around like he'd instructed, so she was basically lying on her back. She unhooked the harness, careful to keep one foot tight against the window above her so she wouldn't spin out of her seat.
"Okay, now what?" She carefully turned her head toward the cockpit door in time to see Eddie with his back on one side of the wall and his feet on the other, trying to reach the door handle. He shimmied up a few more inches, and finally got it, pushing the door up to open it while trying to maintain his precarious position.
"Let me get into the hall," he said, grasping the doorframe with both hands. "I should be able to pull you up then." He took a deep breath, then pushed with his feet as he pulled his shoulders through the doorway. A few more twists and turns, and his feet disappeared. Holly pictured what the short hall would look like now that it was half on it's side. The steep angle was not going to be fun to negotiate.
"Okay." Eddie's head and hands appeared in the opening again. "If you can just turn around in your seat so you're kneeling on the back, you should be able to reach for my hands. Then I'll pull you up. Just be careful the seat doesn't swivel, or you'll fall."
"Sure," Holly said, looking for something to grab. "Piece of cake, right?" She slowly started to turn in the seat, her pulse tripping when it rocked under her movements. She was nearly on her side when her top leg caught the yoke. A jolt of pain ripped through her healing leg, and she closed her eyes, counting to five as she waited for the pain to subside.
"You can do it," Eddie said quietly when she finally looked up at him. "Take your time."
She nodded, took a deep breath, and then repositioned her legs to bring the bottom one under first, and then the top. Finally kneeling on the back of the seat, she took a minute to breathe.
"Maybe you should just leave me here, go get help. I'm not sure how I'll be able to climb out with this stupid leg. How are we even going to get to the ground once we find a door?"
Eddie grinned. "The wing of the plane is on the ground. That's why we're stuck scaling metal, remember? I figure if the emergency slide doesn't work, we'll slide down the wing." He shifted, propping his chest against the threshold and looking back toward his feet for a moment before holding out his hand.
"Come on, Holly. I'm not leaving you. Buck up and start climbing. Consider it research for your next book."
She laughed, a pathetic, whiny sound. "I write romance novels, you dolt. Not action/adventure flicks."
He shrugged. "What? You don't think this is romantic? This is my chance to be the hero, and rescue a damsel in distress. Don't blow it for me, dammit."
She rolled her eyes, but dutifully reached for his hand. "Fine. But you should know I could never write about this." She placed her other hand on the wall, and then steeled herself for the pain as she put her foot on what looked like the side of a coat hook under normal circumstances. Holding her breath, she stood up on the chair supported by her good leg and then reached up to grab the doorframe next to Eddie's shoulder.
"Why not?" Eddie waited until she jumped toward him and then pulled, rolling to his side as she landed half-way thorugh the door.
Holly finished pulling herself up and propped her toes on the edge of the door while she tried to catch her breath. Thankfully, her leg had gone numb once her hips hit the edge of the opening, so the pain was surprisingly managable. For now. She chuckled.
"Do you seriously think anyone would believe all this?"
Enjoy
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Heat | The
Biker's Wench
| Flash Fiction
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March 14, 2012
Writer's Notes: Brain Chemistry & The Dark Valley of "Middlestory"
My body doesn't really react to things the way an "average" body
does. You know that
scary looking list of side effects that an insanely small percentage of
the population gets when taking some medication or herbal supplement?
I'm usually in that small percentage. Either it won't work at all, or it will be
far, far too strong for me, even at a low dose. With herbal/natural
supplements, I often have to take a quarter or less of what's
recommended for the average person for the same results. And artificial sweeteners of any kind are an automatic trip to the loony bin for me, by which I mean they make me both physically ill, and the most crabby, insanely angry person on the planet. Even just one accidental run-in and I'm impossible to be around for the next 12-24 hours. Worst feeling ever.
So
a few years ago, I read about coconut oil, and decided to make it part
of my diet. I overdid it, felt *miserable* for a week or so (google
Herxheimer reaction), and decided it wasn't something I could continue
with. Fast forward to a couple of weeks ago, when I decided to try to
slow my dog's cancer down with coconut oil (which does seem to be working, BTW), and decided that I should
try again for myself, with a very small amount. Everything was fine for a couple of
weeks, and then I decided to increase my own dosage by a quarter.
Enter
a sore thyroid, foggy brain, and extreme irritability. Like I said -
sensitive chemistry here. Worried that I'd ruin my thyroid function, I
cut the coconut oil right then. Of course when you stop something like
that, you have to wait for the effects to wear off. Monday I found
myself with a very foggy brain and a tingling scalp and neck that felt
like someone's creepy fingers were crawling around under the skin on my
head all day long.
Monday night, I had a scene to write.
And no story to tell.
Middles
suck anyway for me - I'm don't have a problem writing short, but it's a
challenge for me to keep the story going to 50k words (which is what I
like for novels - I have no idea how people write 100k plus tomes. I
couldn't do it. I don't think. Though maybe I should try...). And I am
smack-dab in the middle of The Minister's Maid, and at that
point where I feel like a total hack who can't write, can't tell a good
story, and should just put down my proverbial pen and go find something
else to do. This isn't really helped by the fact that one of my pen
names is selling better than me this month. Dang it.
In any case, my brain chemistry was screwed
up, I was in my least favorite spot of the book, and I did what any
self-respecting writer would do - I whined about it on Facebook. Then I
went and stewed for awhile, and reminded myself of one of my hard and
fast rules for writing:
Just Keep Going.
I
internalized that doing NaNoWriMo for years, and it's served me very
well ever since. So I sat my addled brain down and opened the WIP, and
started typing. I normally let my subconscious lead, but that
didn't seem like a great idea given the circumstances, so I wrote the
predictable direction I'd been trying to avoid. And the more I wrote,
the more my brain cleared, and the more the "rest of the story" started
to form in my head (see, the thing about letting your subconscious mind
do most of the writing is, it tends to take over whether you want it to
or not).
There's only one thing I really screwed up, and I blame that on the brain chemistry issues because
it's not something I'd normally forget. I forgot that my hero isn't
fully aware of the complete situation with my heroine yet, so there's an
entire scene that needs to be added in the middle of what I just wrote (read, "giant plot hole").
I hate that...I am a linear writer, so missing scenes bugs the crap out
of me. But all in all, it's not as bad as it could have been, and the
scene that's missing will be easy to write.
So
all's well that ends well...my brain is nearly back to normal (or what passes for normal, anyway), I am going to
try coconut oil again but I'll be sticking with insanely small amounts
on a not-so-regular basis, and the story has a direction once more.
I still hate writing through the Dark Valley of Middlestory, though. I doubt that's ever going to change. I probably won't stop whining about it either.
does. You know that
scary looking list of side effects that an insanely small percentage of
the population gets when taking some medication or herbal supplement?
I'm usually in that small percentage. Either it won't work at all, or it will be
far, far too strong for me, even at a low dose. With herbal/natural
supplements, I often have to take a quarter or less of what's
recommended for the average person for the same results. And artificial sweeteners of any kind are an automatic trip to the loony bin for me, by which I mean they make me both physically ill, and the most crabby, insanely angry person on the planet. Even just one accidental run-in and I'm impossible to be around for the next 12-24 hours. Worst feeling ever.
So
a few years ago, I read about coconut oil, and decided to make it part
of my diet. I overdid it, felt *miserable* for a week or so (google
Herxheimer reaction), and decided it wasn't something I could continue
with. Fast forward to a couple of weeks ago, when I decided to try to
slow my dog's cancer down with coconut oil (which does seem to be working, BTW), and decided that I should
try again for myself, with a very small amount. Everything was fine for a couple of
weeks, and then I decided to increase my own dosage by a quarter.
Enter
a sore thyroid, foggy brain, and extreme irritability. Like I said -
sensitive chemistry here. Worried that I'd ruin my thyroid function, I
cut the coconut oil right then. Of course when you stop something like
that, you have to wait for the effects to wear off. Monday I found
myself with a very foggy brain and a tingling scalp and neck that felt
like someone's creepy fingers were crawling around under the skin on my
head all day long.
Monday night, I had a scene to write.
And no story to tell.
Middles
suck anyway for me - I'm don't have a problem writing short, but it's a
challenge for me to keep the story going to 50k words (which is what I
like for novels - I have no idea how people write 100k plus tomes. I
couldn't do it. I don't think. Though maybe I should try...). And I am
smack-dab in the middle of The Minister's Maid, and at that
point where I feel like a total hack who can't write, can't tell a good
story, and should just put down my proverbial pen and go find something
else to do. This isn't really helped by the fact that one of my pen
names is selling better than me this month. Dang it.
In any case, my brain chemistry was screwed
up, I was in my least favorite spot of the book, and I did what any
self-respecting writer would do - I whined about it on Facebook. Then I
went and stewed for awhile, and reminded myself of one of my hard and
fast rules for writing:
Just Keep Going.
I
internalized that doing NaNoWriMo for years, and it's served me very
well ever since. So I sat my addled brain down and opened the WIP, and
started typing. I normally let my subconscious lead, but that
didn't seem like a great idea given the circumstances, so I wrote the
predictable direction I'd been trying to avoid. And the more I wrote,
the more my brain cleared, and the more the "rest of the story" started
to form in my head (see, the thing about letting your subconscious mind
do most of the writing is, it tends to take over whether you want it to
or not).
There's only one thing I really screwed up, and I blame that on the brain chemistry issues because
it's not something I'd normally forget. I forgot that my hero isn't
fully aware of the complete situation with my heroine yet, so there's an
entire scene that needs to be added in the middle of what I just wrote (read, "giant plot hole").
I hate that...I am a linear writer, so missing scenes bugs the crap out
of me. But all in all, it's not as bad as it could have been, and the
scene that's missing will be easy to write.
So
all's well that ends well...my brain is nearly back to normal (or what passes for normal, anyway), I am going to
try coconut oil again but I'll be sticking with insanely small amounts
on a not-so-regular basis, and the story has a direction once more.
I still hate writing through the Dark Valley of Middlestory, though. I doubt that's ever going to change. I probably won't stop whining about it either.
Enjoy
this post? Support your author:
Romantic Suspense
| Erotica | 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.
March 12, 2012
Weekly News & Prompt - March 12, 2012
Week 10 Prompt: A man sits on the ground near a crumbling gravestone in an old cemetery. Holding up the half-empty bottle at his side, he toasts the grave, and then takes a long swig, swirling the remaining liquid as if mesmerized by the action. Behind him, a twig snaps...
By the time you read this, I'll have
finished both the lovely bowl of Matcha I'm drinking, and the
episode of Scarecrow & Mrs. King we're watching. I'll
have read another chapter or two of Gideon's Sword by
Douglas Preston & Lincoln Child and after too-little sleep, I'll
have cursed both morning and daylight savings time when I had to get
up at what would normally be five instead of six. I'll have done my
morning yoga routine, read today's section of The Writer's Workout, and somehow managed to haul my butt to work,
where I am probably trying to wrangle some annoying bit of web site
code into submission. Something that almost never works on a Monday,
but I get paid to try anyway.
A day in the life, eh? Might as well
keep going, I guess...
At noon, I'll head home for lunch,
and read a little more of Monarch by Michelle Davidson Argyle
while I'm eating. I'll reluctantly turn off my Kindle to go back
for more code wrangling in the afternoon, and at five thirty, I'll
rejoice in the fact that the workday is over. I'll go home, feed
the dogs, make dinner, relax and surf online for half an hour or so,
and then write for an hour. After that, a workout in the basement,
followed by kitchen chores and the dog's final meal of the day
before I can settle in and watch the episode of Castle we
record during our workout times. I'll simultaneously do some
editing or cover art or formatting, which will continue until I force
myself to go to bed – midnight (with more of Gideon's Sword)
if I'm really good, one-thirty in the morning if I'm not.
Somewhere in all that evening stuff
I'll take a few minutes to think about how I should hang out on
Twitter and/or Facebook a bit more, just to keep myself visible in
the social sphere because it's good marketing. Whether I actually
do or not depends on how much interaction I was forced into at the
day job, and how crabby I am at the whole getting up an hour earlier
thing. I might even spend a few minutes feeling guilty about how I
need to update my publishing/writing web sites, or how I need to
finish getting the bookkeeping up to date.
Then I'll remind myself that one of
my resolutions this year was not to feel guilty about stuff I don't
get done, and I'll move on. Probably check out the Smurf auctions
on ebay while I'm at it.
Yep. That's what most of this
writer's weekdays look like, in a nutshell. Glamorous, yes?
There are quite a few things I'm
determined to do this week...I'm not quite sure how yet, but I have
a book to publish, another to get started editing, and those web site
updates I really do want to get done. I also want to make it so
anyone who signs up for either of my newsletters gets a free ebook
for signing up...so hopefully I'll get that put in place too. And
I've been slacking on the 1k words per day thing...so I'm holding
myself to that this week. And not just 1k words per day, but 1k
installments for my serials. Because if I don't start writing
faster, I won't make my publishing goals this year. And that's
just unacceptable.
In any case, I hope you're having a
decent enough Monday, whatever your mission. Carry on, and don't
forget to make time for reading...
Enjoy
this post? Support your author:
Romantic Suspense
| Erotica | Suspense/Thriller
| Flash Fiction | Non-Fiction
**Please
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March 11, 2012
Flash 52: Ruby Revenge
***This week's story contains material that may be considered offensive to some, and is not appropriate for anyone 18 yrs or under. If you are offended by graphic material, or under 18 yrs of age, do not read!***
This story will be available for one week. Enjoy!
Week 10 Prompt: A couple walk into a jewelry shop. The man goes straight to the case with the most rings, but the woman wanders away, apparently uninterested. A clerk offers to help the man, and he chooses a ring, calling the woman back to his side. She shakes her head...
Ruby Revenge
Sean stood behind the glass counter as the bell above the door rang. A tall man in a three-piece suit walked in, practically oozing money as he held the door for his companion. The diminuative blond didn't even look at him as she entered the store. When she removed the sunglasses hiding her face, it was all Sean could do not to show his surprise.
Alicia.
It had been a long time since that night, and he wasn't sure she'd even recognize him. When she'd left, she'd told him straight up that he wasn't her type, and he'd known exactly what she meant. From the looks of her current man though, it seemed like she'd moved on to someone who was. Though she didn't exactly look like a woman in love.
"Can I help you?" Sean addressed the man, who was browsing the ring selection nearby. Alicia had wandered across the room to a case that held necklaces and bracelets. Odd that she wouldn't be interested when her man looked at rings.
The man nodded, staring thoughtfully through the glass.
"I'd like to see those four in the back," he said, pointing to four of the largest diamonds they had on offer. They were all far too ostentatious for someone like Alicia, from what he remembered. The way her long, slender fingers had wrapped around his cock, massaging and pulling...no. A smaller, more colorful stone in a more unique setting would suit her far better. A ruby, perhaps. He had one in the next case that would suit perfectly, from what he remembered.
Even so, he nodded and unlocked the case, laying out a thick piece of black velvet before presenting the rings. Each had a matching wedding band, and he laid those out as well.
"Alicia, come here." The man's request was more an order, and she complied, though reluctantly, or so it appeared to Sean. Her thin blouse did nothing to hide her braless state, and the stiff points of her nipples poking at the white fabric reminded him of how they'd looked after he'd taken them in his mouth, between his teeth. She'd liked that.
Rubies. Definitely.
She didn't look at him, just stared at the rings. After a few long minutes, she shook her head.
"No. Those aren't me." She turned to go, still avoiding Sean's eyes. So she did recognize him, then. Nothing else explained the deliberate snub.
"May I?" he asked, looking back at the man who merely inclined his head. "I have something...unconventional that I think might be perfect."
He locked away the four rings, and then retrieved the ruby from it's display. Laying it on the velvet, he marveled at how the stone sparkled in the afternoon sunlight before the man picked it up.
"It's too small," he said, setting it back down as he dismissed it. "That won't do at all."
Alicia turned back at his words. "Let me see." She picked up the ring, examining it for a moment, then slipped it on her left ring finger. Turning her hand one way, then the other, she watched the light play through the red prism.
"I like this one," she said, laying her hand against the man's lapel. "It's warm and vibrant, but still very, very decadent."
Sean agreed, though he didn't dare say as much. He wished she would look at him, just once.
Her fiance looked down in distain. "It's not big enough. And you need a diamond. This won't impress my business partners."
She rolled her eyes. "The size and color of the ring isn't going to matter one bit, Cal, and you know it. It's my other...considerable charms that get you what you want. That's the deal, remember?"
He grinned. "I suppose you're right, darlin'." Glancing over at Sean, he asked, "How much?"
Sean felt Alicia's gaze, finally, but he forced himself to focus on her fiance. "Eighteen hundred, even." Then he met Alicia's eyes, saw the surprised recognition in them. He winked, glad thier night together wasn't as forgettable for her as she'd made him believe.
An odd look crossed her face, followed by a sly grin. She looked up at her man, both hands caressing his chest.
"Cal, baby, why don't you let me pay for this. Just like I paid for the car last week. You go ahead and wait in the car. I won't be long."
He frowned. "I'm not sure - it seems like too much of a discount for the shop."
She shook her head, running a finger down his throat. "Just think of it as practice for me."
Cal stepped back, hesitating for one more minute. Then he looked at Sean, and chuckled. "I hope you know what a great deal you're getting," he said before he walked out the door.
Sean watched as Alicia walked around the counter and dropped to her knees in front of him. She reached for his belt, but he grabbed her hand.
"What do you think you're doing?"
"Paying for my ring," she said, batting her eyelashes coyly. "It's been a long time, Sean - but I still remember how you taste. I want you on my tongue."
"And if I'd rather have the cash?"
She pouted. "You don't think I'm worth eighteen hundred?" One by one, she undid the buttons on her dress, revealing those small, perky breasts. "I've learned some things since that night. Things I think you'll like."
He shook his head, smiling. "As much as I enjoyed our night together, you basically told me I wasn't worth your time when you left. So no, to me, you aren't worth any amount of money." He squatted down, took her left hand and retrieved the ring. "I knew you'd like this. And it suits you. But you can't have it. Now leave."
She took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as she buttoned her dress and stood.
"You'll regret this," she said, hesitating for a moment, as if she expected him to stop her. When he didn't, she walked out without a backward glance.
"Never," Sean murmured.
One week later, there was a break in at the store. Everything was taken, millions of dollars in inventory. The only piece untouched was the ruby ring.
This story will be available for one week. Enjoy!
Week 10 Prompt: A couple walk into a jewelry shop. The man goes straight to the case with the most rings, but the woman wanders away, apparently uninterested. A clerk offers to help the man, and he chooses a ring, calling the woman back to his side. She shakes her head...
Ruby Revenge
Sean stood behind the glass counter as the bell above the door rang. A tall man in a three-piece suit walked in, practically oozing money as he held the door for his companion. The diminuative blond didn't even look at him as she entered the store. When she removed the sunglasses hiding her face, it was all Sean could do not to show his surprise.
Alicia.
It had been a long time since that night, and he wasn't sure she'd even recognize him. When she'd left, she'd told him straight up that he wasn't her type, and he'd known exactly what she meant. From the looks of her current man though, it seemed like she'd moved on to someone who was. Though she didn't exactly look like a woman in love.
"Can I help you?" Sean addressed the man, who was browsing the ring selection nearby. Alicia had wandered across the room to a case that held necklaces and bracelets. Odd that she wouldn't be interested when her man looked at rings.
The man nodded, staring thoughtfully through the glass.
"I'd like to see those four in the back," he said, pointing to four of the largest diamonds they had on offer. They were all far too ostentatious for someone like Alicia, from what he remembered. The way her long, slender fingers had wrapped around his cock, massaging and pulling...no. A smaller, more colorful stone in a more unique setting would suit her far better. A ruby, perhaps. He had one in the next case that would suit perfectly, from what he remembered.
Even so, he nodded and unlocked the case, laying out a thick piece of black velvet before presenting the rings. Each had a matching wedding band, and he laid those out as well.
"Alicia, come here." The man's request was more an order, and she complied, though reluctantly, or so it appeared to Sean. Her thin blouse did nothing to hide her braless state, and the stiff points of her nipples poking at the white fabric reminded him of how they'd looked after he'd taken them in his mouth, between his teeth. She'd liked that.
Rubies. Definitely.
She didn't look at him, just stared at the rings. After a few long minutes, she shook her head.
"No. Those aren't me." She turned to go, still avoiding Sean's eyes. So she did recognize him, then. Nothing else explained the deliberate snub.
"May I?" he asked, looking back at the man who merely inclined his head. "I have something...unconventional that I think might be perfect."
He locked away the four rings, and then retrieved the ruby from it's display. Laying it on the velvet, he marveled at how the stone sparkled in the afternoon sunlight before the man picked it up.
"It's too small," he said, setting it back down as he dismissed it. "That won't do at all."
Alicia turned back at his words. "Let me see." She picked up the ring, examining it for a moment, then slipped it on her left ring finger. Turning her hand one way, then the other, she watched the light play through the red prism.
"I like this one," she said, laying her hand against the man's lapel. "It's warm and vibrant, but still very, very decadent."
Sean agreed, though he didn't dare say as much. He wished she would look at him, just once.
Her fiance looked down in distain. "It's not big enough. And you need a diamond. This won't impress my business partners."
She rolled her eyes. "The size and color of the ring isn't going to matter one bit, Cal, and you know it. It's my other...considerable charms that get you what you want. That's the deal, remember?"
He grinned. "I suppose you're right, darlin'." Glancing over at Sean, he asked, "How much?"
Sean felt Alicia's gaze, finally, but he forced himself to focus on her fiance. "Eighteen hundred, even." Then he met Alicia's eyes, saw the surprised recognition in them. He winked, glad thier night together wasn't as forgettable for her as she'd made him believe.
An odd look crossed her face, followed by a sly grin. She looked up at her man, both hands caressing his chest.
"Cal, baby, why don't you let me pay for this. Just like I paid for the car last week. You go ahead and wait in the car. I won't be long."
He frowned. "I'm not sure - it seems like too much of a discount for the shop."
She shook her head, running a finger down his throat. "Just think of it as practice for me."
Cal stepped back, hesitating for one more minute. Then he looked at Sean, and chuckled. "I hope you know what a great deal you're getting," he said before he walked out the door.
Sean watched as Alicia walked around the counter and dropped to her knees in front of him. She reached for his belt, but he grabbed her hand.
"What do you think you're doing?"
"Paying for my ring," she said, batting her eyelashes coyly. "It's been a long time, Sean - but I still remember how you taste. I want you on my tongue."
"And if I'd rather have the cash?"
She pouted. "You don't think I'm worth eighteen hundred?" One by one, she undid the buttons on her dress, revealing those small, perky breasts. "I've learned some things since that night. Things I think you'll like."
He shook his head, smiling. "As much as I enjoyed our night together, you basically told me I wasn't worth your time when you left. So no, to me, you aren't worth any amount of money." He squatted down, took her left hand and retrieved the ring. "I knew you'd like this. And it suits you. But you can't have it. Now leave."
She took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as she buttoned her dress and stood.
"You'll regret this," she said, hesitating for a moment, as if she expected him to stop her. When he didn't, she walked out without a backward glance.
"Never," Sean murmured.
One week later, there was a break in at the store. Everything was taken, millions of dollars in inventory. The only piece untouched was the ruby ring.
Enjoy
this post? Support your author: Tempest
| Desert
Heat | The
Biker's Wench
| Flash Fiction
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March 9, 2012
Serial Novel: Falling in Public, Ch. 41
This serial novel is posted in draft form every Friday.
Ch.1|Ch. 2|Ch. 3|Ch. 4|Ch. 5|Ch. 6|Ch. 7|Ch. 8|Ch. 9|Ch. 10|Ch. 11|Ch. 12|Ch.13|Ch. 14|Ch. 15| Ch. 16| Ch. 17|Ch. 18| Ch. 19 | Ch. 20 | Ch. 21 | Ch. 22 | Ch. 23 | Ch. 24 | Ch. 25 | Ch. 26 | Ch. 27 | Ch. 28 | Ch. 29 | Ch. 30 | Ch. 31 | Ch. 32 | Ch. 33 | Ch. 34 | Ch. 35 | Ch. 36 | Ch. 37 | Ch. 38 | Ch. 39 | Ch. 40 |
Falling in Public
Chapter 41
Holly settled into the pilot's seat, careful not to bump any of the controls as she tried to arrange her legs under the yoke. Examining the instrument panel, she was glad to see most of the dials were labeled. Too bad she had no idea what most of them meant.
Eddie reached over her head and handed her a headset. She slipped it over her ears while he sat in the co-pilot's chair and put on his own headset.
"Can you hear me okay?" he said, his voice sounding strangely isolated in her head under the large headphones. She nodded.
"Loud and clear. Do you have any idea where we are?"
"The pilot said we were on approach to Sean's private airstrip, but that was several minutes ago. We're a hundred miles out from the nearest commercial airport, and he said we didn't have enough fuel to make it."
Holly searched the dashboard for a fuel indicator. The mark was about half-way up.
"Do you think he was lying?"
Eddie shrugged. "I have no idea. But I think we should get back on solid ground as soon as we can, just to be sure.
"Agreed." Holly looked out the windshield, but all she could see were clouds. "We have to get lower so we can see the terrain. I think if I push the yoke forward and throttle back, we should be able to slow down and get under these clouds."
Eddie shook his head. "I can't believe we're doing this." He reached a hand out to put a finger under the auto-pilot switch as she grasped the throttle in one hand, and the yoke in the other. "It could be a beast to control...why don't you throttle back, and I'll control the yoke. Just don't go back too far. We don't want to stall."
"What, these things don't have power steering?" Holly joked, earning a stern look for her efforts. "Okay, fine. On three. One...two...three."
Eddie turned off the auto pilot, and the plane dipped almost immediately as he worked to pull the yoke back in time. Holly pulled back on the throttle, her heart beating against her chest as she felt the engine shift around her. The aircraft rocked wildly as Eddie struggled to pull up, and he put his feet on the pedals working just the lower half until the plane was finally steady again, though still descending at a slight angle.
"Got it?" she asked, relieved when he nodded. "Okay. I'm going to throttle back a little more." She pulled the lever half an inch further, and watched the airspeed dial move a little lower.
"This isn't too bad," Eddie commented as they both watched the clouds disappear. Far below, wide fields spread out below, surrounded by low hills and taller mountains.
"Think we could land in one of those fields?" Holly asked.
Eddie shook his head. "We aren't low enough - we'd have to circle around a few times. But with any luck, there will be more over that ridge coming up on our right. I"m going to try turning - hang on." He slowly turned the yoke to the right, and Holly tried to remember to breath as the plane banked a little too sharply. The engine made an odd sound, and she reached over to throttle up a little, relieved when it stabilized. Eddie returned the yoke to center, struggling to deal with the forward and back directional movements before he got it leveled off. Holly could see beads of sweat on his forehead as she eased the throttle back again.
"Great job," she said, feeling like some bubbly cheerleader, but meaning every word. She looked out and pointed to a field in the distance, narrow, but long. "How about there?"
"We can try. I'll start nosing it down. I'll tell you when to throttle back." He pushed the yoke forward, and Holly could tell he was being as gentle as he could, but the plane still tilted sharply. She saw his feet go to the pedals, and after a few more wobbles the aircraft straightened at a gentle descent.
"Wow," Holly breathed, unclenching her fists. "I don't know what you did there, but nice flying."
"Maybe you should wait until we get on the ground to say that." Eddie took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. "Okay. Once we get over the tops of those trees, I'm going to lift the nose back up. When I do that, go ahead and throttle back hard. Just don't kill the engine, okay?"
She nodded, putting her hand on the lever. "Just like in the movies, right?"
"Cross your fingers."
She looked out the windsheild and watched the trees as they passed overhead, cringing when it looked like they were going to take out a power line. When they didn't, it hit her.
"Landing gear! We need wheels!" Scanning the front panel, she found the toggles and switched them on, relieved when the lights turned green. Eddie nodded.
"Hang on," he said, pulling the yoke back slowly. "Here we go."
Ch.1|Ch. 2|Ch. 3|Ch. 4|Ch. 5|Ch. 6|Ch. 7|Ch. 8|Ch. 9|Ch. 10|Ch. 11|Ch. 12|Ch.13|Ch. 14|Ch. 15| Ch. 16| Ch. 17|Ch. 18| Ch. 19 | Ch. 20 | Ch. 21 | Ch. 22 | Ch. 23 | Ch. 24 | Ch. 25 | Ch. 26 | Ch. 27 | Ch. 28 | Ch. 29 | Ch. 30 | Ch. 31 | Ch. 32 | Ch. 33 | Ch. 34 | Ch. 35 | Ch. 36 | Ch. 37 | Ch. 38 | Ch. 39 | Ch. 40 |
Falling in Public
Chapter 41
Holly settled into the pilot's seat, careful not to bump any of the controls as she tried to arrange her legs under the yoke. Examining the instrument panel, she was glad to see most of the dials were labeled. Too bad she had no idea what most of them meant.
Eddie reached over her head and handed her a headset. She slipped it over her ears while he sat in the co-pilot's chair and put on his own headset.
"Can you hear me okay?" he said, his voice sounding strangely isolated in her head under the large headphones. She nodded.
"Loud and clear. Do you have any idea where we are?"
"The pilot said we were on approach to Sean's private airstrip, but that was several minutes ago. We're a hundred miles out from the nearest commercial airport, and he said we didn't have enough fuel to make it."
Holly searched the dashboard for a fuel indicator. The mark was about half-way up.
"Do you think he was lying?"
Eddie shrugged. "I have no idea. But I think we should get back on solid ground as soon as we can, just to be sure.
"Agreed." Holly looked out the windshield, but all she could see were clouds. "We have to get lower so we can see the terrain. I think if I push the yoke forward and throttle back, we should be able to slow down and get under these clouds."
Eddie shook his head. "I can't believe we're doing this." He reached a hand out to put a finger under the auto-pilot switch as she grasped the throttle in one hand, and the yoke in the other. "It could be a beast to control...why don't you throttle back, and I'll control the yoke. Just don't go back too far. We don't want to stall."
"What, these things don't have power steering?" Holly joked, earning a stern look for her efforts. "Okay, fine. On three. One...two...three."
Eddie turned off the auto pilot, and the plane dipped almost immediately as he worked to pull the yoke back in time. Holly pulled back on the throttle, her heart beating against her chest as she felt the engine shift around her. The aircraft rocked wildly as Eddie struggled to pull up, and he put his feet on the pedals working just the lower half until the plane was finally steady again, though still descending at a slight angle.
"Got it?" she asked, relieved when he nodded. "Okay. I'm going to throttle back a little more." She pulled the lever half an inch further, and watched the airspeed dial move a little lower.
"This isn't too bad," Eddie commented as they both watched the clouds disappear. Far below, wide fields spread out below, surrounded by low hills and taller mountains.
"Think we could land in one of those fields?" Holly asked.
Eddie shook his head. "We aren't low enough - we'd have to circle around a few times. But with any luck, there will be more over that ridge coming up on our right. I"m going to try turning - hang on." He slowly turned the yoke to the right, and Holly tried to remember to breath as the plane banked a little too sharply. The engine made an odd sound, and she reached over to throttle up a little, relieved when it stabilized. Eddie returned the yoke to center, struggling to deal with the forward and back directional movements before he got it leveled off. Holly could see beads of sweat on his forehead as she eased the throttle back again.
"Great job," she said, feeling like some bubbly cheerleader, but meaning every word. She looked out and pointed to a field in the distance, narrow, but long. "How about there?"
"We can try. I'll start nosing it down. I'll tell you when to throttle back." He pushed the yoke forward, and Holly could tell he was being as gentle as he could, but the plane still tilted sharply. She saw his feet go to the pedals, and after a few more wobbles the aircraft straightened at a gentle descent.
"Wow," Holly breathed, unclenching her fists. "I don't know what you did there, but nice flying."
"Maybe you should wait until we get on the ground to say that." Eddie took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. "Okay. Once we get over the tops of those trees, I'm going to lift the nose back up. When I do that, go ahead and throttle back hard. Just don't kill the engine, okay?"
She nodded, putting her hand on the lever. "Just like in the movies, right?"
"Cross your fingers."
She looked out the windsheild and watched the trees as they passed overhead, cringing when it looked like they were going to take out a power line. When they didn't, it hit her.
"Landing gear! We need wheels!" Scanning the front panel, she found the toggles and switched them on, relieved when the lights turned green. Eddie nodded.
"Hang on," he said, pulling the yoke back slowly. "Here we go."
Enjoy
this post? Support your author: Tempest
| Desert
Heat | The
Biker's Wench
| Flash Fiction
**Please
note - comments take a few moments to appear. If this is your first time posting, your comment
will be moderated.
March 7, 2012
Writer's Notes: Research is Good. And Dangerous.
I
consider myself a fairly logical person most of the time. But I'm also
just a tad bit obsessive/compulsive. Or a lot. Let's put it this way –
if I decide I'm interested in something, I can't stop researching it
until I'm completely sated with the knowledge that I know as much as I
possibly can (or until I know enough that I'm finally just bored). It's a
good trait for a writer to have, but if I'm not careful, it's very easy
to annoy everyone around me while I'm finding out all this cool stuff
about...whatever. I have to remind myself that the person next to me
does not actually
want to know all about the history of smurfs or ships on stamps
or...say...the healing powers of coconut oil and aloe vera. Especially
considering the person next to me is often my husband. Poor guy.
When
we decided not to treat my dog's cancer, it was more a decision not to
put him through anything that would be painful, energy-sapping or
confusing for him. But I remembered reading about some studies with
coconut oil and cancer, and looked it up. Convinced that even if it
didn't actually help, it certainly wouldn't hurt (and if it did help,
any little bit would be good), I decided to use it on the tumor that was
trying to grow back on Gabe's eyelid, and also start adding it to the
dogs' food daily.
Needless
to say, I've been impressed with the results, and have started
incorporating coconut oil into our diet as well. It's slow going,
because there's a detox period, but It's worth it, I think. Naturally
that got me to thinking – what other natural things should I be looking
at trying, both for Gabriel and myself?
A
few hours later, I had collected a good amount of data on healthy,
anti-cancer, anti-infection natural remedies to try with Gabriel (I'm
under no illusion any of it will cure him completely, I'm just looking
to keep him as healthy as possible), but as is the nature of a lot of
herbs and plant compounds, they're good for a lot more than just one
thing. So my husband and I will be trying a few ourselves, just because
we're trying to get healthy, and if it's something that might help us at
the cellular level as we age, we want to be ahead of that particular
curve.
For
the past week, I've been reading everything I can get my hands on about
coconut oil, and more recently, aloe vera – and before I honed in on
those two things, everything remotely known to have anti-cancer
properties. Suffice it to say, I now know enough to make the average
person think some company is paying me to do an infomercial.
Just
like it's hard to refrain from sharing my new found knowledge with
everyone in close proximity, it's sometimes hard not to rush out and
build a story around whatever I happen to be researching/obsessed with
at the time. But the fact is, a lot of the stuff I research isn't
something that would interest anyone else, and I write fiction, which is
something people read to escape with, not necessarily to learn things
from.
What
I can do, however, is to include a tidbit of information as a quirk or
plot twist...so when I'm doing all of this reading, I'll often make note
of things that seem totally off the wall, in the hope that someday I'll
find the perfect spot for a quirky character who randomly knows the
cost of a rare smurf. Naturally, this information will annoy everyone
around him/her, and provide me with a nice bit of juicy conflict to work
off of.
Actually,
that wasn't a good example, because I could write a totally believable,
quirky story from that starting point, and people might actually enjoy
it. Except the folks at Peyo. So I'd probably have to change the rare
collectible to something else....
Dang
it. This always happens. I need to stop here, before I come up with a
way to use aloe vera and coconut oil in the center of some conspiracy
theory plot by a lab rat at a research company who happens to fall in
love with an aloe farmer who...
Crap.
consider myself a fairly logical person most of the time. But I'm also
just a tad bit obsessive/compulsive. Or a lot. Let's put it this way –
if I decide I'm interested in something, I can't stop researching it
until I'm completely sated with the knowledge that I know as much as I
possibly can (or until I know enough that I'm finally just bored). It's a
good trait for a writer to have, but if I'm not careful, it's very easy
to annoy everyone around me while I'm finding out all this cool stuff
about...whatever. I have to remind myself that the person next to me
does not actually
want to know all about the history of smurfs or ships on stamps
or...say...the healing powers of coconut oil and aloe vera. Especially
considering the person next to me is often my husband. Poor guy.
When
we decided not to treat my dog's cancer, it was more a decision not to
put him through anything that would be painful, energy-sapping or
confusing for him. But I remembered reading about some studies with
coconut oil and cancer, and looked it up. Convinced that even if it
didn't actually help, it certainly wouldn't hurt (and if it did help,
any little bit would be good), I decided to use it on the tumor that was
trying to grow back on Gabe's eyelid, and also start adding it to the
dogs' food daily.
Needless
to say, I've been impressed with the results, and have started
incorporating coconut oil into our diet as well. It's slow going,
because there's a detox period, but It's worth it, I think. Naturally
that got me to thinking – what other natural things should I be looking
at trying, both for Gabriel and myself?
A
few hours later, I had collected a good amount of data on healthy,
anti-cancer, anti-infection natural remedies to try with Gabriel (I'm
under no illusion any of it will cure him completely, I'm just looking
to keep him as healthy as possible), but as is the nature of a lot of
herbs and plant compounds, they're good for a lot more than just one
thing. So my husband and I will be trying a few ourselves, just because
we're trying to get healthy, and if it's something that might help us at
the cellular level as we age, we want to be ahead of that particular
curve.
For
the past week, I've been reading everything I can get my hands on about
coconut oil, and more recently, aloe vera – and before I honed in on
those two things, everything remotely known to have anti-cancer
properties. Suffice it to say, I now know enough to make the average
person think some company is paying me to do an infomercial.
Just
like it's hard to refrain from sharing my new found knowledge with
everyone in close proximity, it's sometimes hard not to rush out and
build a story around whatever I happen to be researching/obsessed with
at the time. But the fact is, a lot of the stuff I research isn't
something that would interest anyone else, and I write fiction, which is
something people read to escape with, not necessarily to learn things
from.
What
I can do, however, is to include a tidbit of information as a quirk or
plot twist...so when I'm doing all of this reading, I'll often make note
of things that seem totally off the wall, in the hope that someday I'll
find the perfect spot for a quirky character who randomly knows the
cost of a rare smurf. Naturally, this information will annoy everyone
around him/her, and provide me with a nice bit of juicy conflict to work
off of.
Actually,
that wasn't a good example, because I could write a totally believable,
quirky story from that starting point, and people might actually enjoy
it. Except the folks at Peyo. So I'd probably have to change the rare
collectible to something else....
Dang
it. This always happens. I need to stop here, before I come up with a
way to use aloe vera and coconut oil in the center of some conspiracy
theory plot by a lab rat at a research company who happens to fall in
love with an aloe farmer who...
Crap.
Enjoy
this post? Support your author:
Romantic Suspense
| Erotica | Suspense/Thriller
| Flash Fiction | Non-Fiction
**Please
note - If this is your first time posting, your comment
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March 5, 2012
Weekly News & Prompt, March 5, 2012
Week 10 Flash Prompt: A couple walk into a
jewelry shop. The man goes straight to the case with the most rings, but
the woman wanders away, apparently uninterested. A clerk offers to help
the man, and he chooses a ring, calling the woman back to his side. She
shakes her head...
Today's post brought to you by...my lunch hour. Mainly because I was just too lazy to write it last night while I was watching Once Upon a Time.
Spreadsheets will do that to you (take away any shred of motivation, I
mean). And yesterday I spent the entirety of my afternoon pulling data
out of spreadsheets to enter into Quickbooks. You're jealous, right? I
knew you would be...
Luckily, I have the perk
of being able to go home for lunch every day, which means my dogs get to
go out and I get a break from cubicle life. Breaks are important, for
both physical and mental health, hard as it is to get them sometimes.
Bookkeeping
wasn't the only thing I did last weekend - I also created a cover for
my latest four suspense stories under my suspense pen name. They need a
little editing, and formatting, but I should have those out by the end
of the week. And yesterday's flash story rounded out the fourth in
another collection, so I'll be working on that cover later this week.
Those need a bit more editing too, but I'll get to it. I'm not all that
fond of big revisions, but I don't mind editing small things like flash
stories. Probably because it takes a lot less time.
Last
week was...difficult, to say the least. Still, I managed to muddle
through, and this week is already off to a better start - but it does
look pretty busy. The day job is busy, and I have a lot of
writing/editing/business-y stuff to take care of in the evenings, plus
my workouts and incidental things like laundry and dinner. Crazy how it
all ads up, and unfortunately, it means I'm not able to be as social
online as I used to be (because there are only so many hours in the day,
and if I'm being social, I'm not doing what I need to get done - not
just writing-wise, but health-wise too). But I try to visit all of my
various social networks at least a few times during the evening, so
don't be afraid to holler at me.I do bite sometimes, but I've got all my
shots...
I've been creating banners for the new
timeline layout of Facebook pages - I don't like that layout for pages,
but there's no point in whining about it, so I'll be switching mine over
within the next couple of weeks. My main author page has already
switched, and so has the BSB page...but I still have the pen name pages
and my tea & nail pages to work on.
I
suppose that's all the news that's fit to type this week - I should have
a Writer's Notes post up on Weds, and of course the serial stories will
go on as usual Tues - Fri at their respective blogs. I'm going to try
really hard to update my Goodreads bookshelves this week too - books sit
in my "Current Reads" file on my kindle until I get them starred and/or
reviewed on GR, and that file is up to something like 25 books at the
moment. So I'm a little behind...
Back to work I go. Here's to a productive and sunny week!
jewelry shop. The man goes straight to the case with the most rings, but
the woman wanders away, apparently uninterested. A clerk offers to help
the man, and he chooses a ring, calling the woman back to his side. She
shakes her head...
Today's post brought to you by...my lunch hour. Mainly because I was just too lazy to write it last night while I was watching Once Upon a Time.
Spreadsheets will do that to you (take away any shred of motivation, I
mean). And yesterday I spent the entirety of my afternoon pulling data
out of spreadsheets to enter into Quickbooks. You're jealous, right? I
knew you would be...
Luckily, I have the perk
of being able to go home for lunch every day, which means my dogs get to
go out and I get a break from cubicle life. Breaks are important, for
both physical and mental health, hard as it is to get them sometimes.
Bookkeeping
wasn't the only thing I did last weekend - I also created a cover for
my latest four suspense stories under my suspense pen name. They need a
little editing, and formatting, but I should have those out by the end
of the week. And yesterday's flash story rounded out the fourth in
another collection, so I'll be working on that cover later this week.
Those need a bit more editing too, but I'll get to it. I'm not all that
fond of big revisions, but I don't mind editing small things like flash
stories. Probably because it takes a lot less time.
Last
week was...difficult, to say the least. Still, I managed to muddle
through, and this week is already off to a better start - but it does
look pretty busy. The day job is busy, and I have a lot of
writing/editing/business-y stuff to take care of in the evenings, plus
my workouts and incidental things like laundry and dinner. Crazy how it
all ads up, and unfortunately, it means I'm not able to be as social
online as I used to be (because there are only so many hours in the day,
and if I'm being social, I'm not doing what I need to get done - not
just writing-wise, but health-wise too). But I try to visit all of my
various social networks at least a few times during the evening, so
don't be afraid to holler at me.I do bite sometimes, but I've got all my
shots...
I've been creating banners for the new
timeline layout of Facebook pages - I don't like that layout for pages,
but there's no point in whining about it, so I'll be switching mine over
within the next couple of weeks. My main author page has already
switched, and so has the BSB page...but I still have the pen name pages
and my tea & nail pages to work on.
I
suppose that's all the news that's fit to type this week - I should have
a Writer's Notes post up on Weds, and of course the serial stories will
go on as usual Tues - Fri at their respective blogs. I'm going to try
really hard to update my Goodreads bookshelves this week too - books sit
in my "Current Reads" file on my kindle until I get them starred and/or
reviewed on GR, and that file is up to something like 25 books at the
moment. So I'm a little behind...
Back to work I go. Here's to a productive and sunny week!
Enjoy
this post? Support your author:
Romantic Suspense
| Erotica | Suspense/Thriller
| Flash Fiction | Non-Fiction
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March 4, 2012
Flash 52: Special Delivery
This story will be available for one week. Enjoy!
Week 9 Prompt: A woman is running down the street, dodging other people as she makes her way through a crowded sidewalk. She looks over her shoulder, then spies a mail slot in the door of a business with a "Closed" sign in the window. Breathing hard, she stops long enough to push something through the slot, and then sprints across the street...
Special Delivery
Christy jogged along the sidewalk, glancing briefly over her shoulder as she passed the candy store. He was still half a block away, but walking at a fast clip, so she'd have to hurry. Three shops down, she paused in front of the next door, just long enough to shove an envelope through the card slot. Not daring to look back again, she sprinted across the street, hoping he wouldn't recognize her in the old navy sweatsuit she'd pulled out of the back of her closet. It would have been so much easier if she'd gotten up on time.
Rounding the corner, she hid behind the corner of a stone building and peered out just enough to watch him unlock the door. He pushed it open and looked down, then bent over to pick up her envelope. As he stepped inside and closed the door, she sighed, wishing she could see his face.
Later, Chris, she thought to herself. Reluctantly she turned and made her way home to shower and change.
An hour later, she walked the same sidewalk she'd jogged down earlier, sleek heels clicking in time as she passed his door and unlocked the one right next to it. It was a beautiful spring day, and she blocked the door open on her way in, deciding a little fresh air would be nice. An open door was always more inviting too - for customers or...whoever.
Setting her handbag on it's shelf behind the counter, she logged into the computer on the counter and started going through inventory. The shop had done well in the six months she'd been open, and she hoped profits would keep going in the right direction. Location really was everything, it seemed. Christy's Accessories was perfectly located next to Not Quite Formal, Ethan's high-end clothing store.
A shadow in the doorway caught her attention, and she smiled as she looked up, her heart beating faster at the scent of his signature cologne.
"Good morning, Ethan. What brings you over so early?" The man was too yummy for his own good, she thought as he walked up to the counter and set a steaming cup of coffee in front of her. And when he grinned like he was doing now, she literally felt weak in the knees.
"I just thought I'd say hi to my favorite neighbor," he said with a wink. "I thought I'd see if you wanted to have lunch later too, if you're not busy. I have something to show you."
I'll just bet you do. Christy nodded, hoping her cheeks didn't look as warm as they felt.
"Sure, I'd love to. Where do you want to go?"
He nodded in the direction of his shop. "I was thinking we'd just eat in my office, if that's okay. I'll run across the street for take out around noon." His eyes sparkled brighter than usual, and she couldn't help but wonder if her card was the cause for his exceptional mood. Then again, she'd been leaving one for him every week for the past few months, so there was no reason this week should be different. They weren't anything, really, just a note to let him know someone was thinking about him. She'd never really planned to tell him it was her.
"That sounds great," she said, feeling her face flush as she realized he was still waiting for an answer. "I'll...uh...see you then."
Laughter from the sidewalk caught her attention, and she looked toward the door just as a couple of women walked in. Ethan helped himself to a sip of her coffee then set it back on the counter, almost as if he was daring her to share.
"See you later." he said, walking away without looking back.
Christy watched the clock tick down to two minutes past noon before she allowed herself to leave. Ethan was waiting at his door, and as she went inside, he locked it behind her and flipped the closed sign out. Leading her back to his office, he closed that door too, and then motioned for her to sit on the couch while he went to his desk for a moment.
"The food's there on the coffee table - help yourself. I just have a little video I thought we could watch..." He clicked a few buttons and then turned down the lights as an image appeared on the wall. It took a few seconds for Christy to realize that it was video from outside the shop door...
Oh no.
Ethan sat beside her, picking up a plate he'd already filled. "A couple months ago - shortly after your store opened, actually - I started getting a card every Monday morning from a secret admirer. They were funny, witty, and sometimes even just a little naughty - and I have to say, I've been a little frustrated not to know who leaves them. So I decided to set up a camera. I think maybe you know the rest." He reached out to take her hand just as she saw herself run up in that silly jogging suit. Her face felt like it was burning up, and his touch was making it hard to think.
"I...have no idea what to say." She risked a look into those gorgeous eyes, relieved to see amusement and definite interest reflected back.
He leaned forward, his other hand coming up to curl around her neck. "You've said plenty," he whispered, drawing her close. "It's my turn."
His lips were soft, his kiss tender, and she felt like her heart would burst. When he pulled back, she nearly cried for the loss. He must have sensed her distress, because he kissed her twice more before he spoke again.
"Have dinner with me tonight?"
She laughed. "I'd love to. But I have to warn you, I'm wittier on paper than I am in person."
He shook his head. "I know that's not true, but if it will make you more comfortable, feel free to bring me a card. Anytime."
Enjoy
this post? Support your author: Tempest
| Desert
Heat | The
Biker's Wench
| Flash Fiction
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will be moderated.
March 2, 2012
Serial Novel: Falling in Public, Ch. 40
This serial novel is posted in draft form every Friday.
Ch.1|Ch. 2|Ch. 3|Ch. 4|Ch. 5|Ch. 6|Ch. 7|Ch. 8|Ch. 9|Ch. 10|Ch. 11|Ch. 12|Ch.13|Ch. 14|Ch. 15| Ch. 16| Ch. 17|Ch. 18| Ch. 19 | Ch. 20 | Ch. 21 | Ch. 22 | Ch. 23 | Ch. 24 | Ch. 25 | Ch. 26 | Ch. 27 | Ch. 28 | Ch. 29 | Ch. 30 | Ch. 31 | Ch. 32 | Ch. 33 | Ch. 34 | Ch. 35 | Ch. 36 | Ch. 37 | Ch. 38 | Ch. 39
Falling in Public
Chapter 40
Holly felt the plane shift, dip, and finally level off. Fearing the worst, she debated internally whether to go forward and check on Eddie, or to stay in her seat. Across the aisle, her stalker laughed.
"I wouldn't count on your hero coming back anytime soon," he sneered. "All of the men in my employ are armed, and trained for situations like this."
Holly placed both hands on the top of the seat in front of her and pulled, grunting as she cautiously put weight on her wounded leg. To hell with sitting back here. She was going to help Eddie get this plane on the ground, or die trying.
"Is that why your men are all on the floor up there?" she asked as she limped past. "Seems like well-trained men would have been able to fend off a measly two people."
He started to argue, but she slipped through the dividing curtain, muting him to the point where it all just sounded like more bable. Moving slow, she stepped over the sprawled limbs and dropped weapons. Finally getting past the guy she assumed was the pilot by the wings on his impeccable blue jacket, she reached the cockpit door.
"Eddie? It's Holly. Open up."
After a brief pause and several clicks from the other side of the door, it swung in, revealing Eddie holding a gun pointed straight at her face. She watched his eyes dart to either side of her, checking. Then he lowered the gun and pulled her in, shutting and locking the door.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, turning around to look at her. "Why are you on your feet?" There wasn't much space, and Holly found herself neatly pressed up against his hard chest.
Among other things.
She smiled. "Maybe I just missed you." Raising a hand to the muscles before her, she traced a finger down the center of his torso, pleased when he twitched under her touch. He grabbed her hand and brought it to his mouth, gallantly kissing the back.
"We don't have time for this, Holly. We're about out of gas with nowhere to land - not to mention I knocked out the pilot. Unless you know how to fly a plane..."
She shook her head. "No, but I have read a lot about it - I wrote a book about a pilot last year. I might be able to sort of figure it out."
He laughed. "You're kidding, right? You learned how to fly by reading a book? Sorry, but I just don't think that's going to work here. I Maybe we should find the parachutes. There has to be at least one."
"Eddie Pierce, I am not jumping out of a plane - especially not with this stupid leg. Just let me look at the controls. I bet I can figure it out. We can figure it out - you said you have a little knowledge, right?"
He shrugged and stepped aside, giving her access to the pilot's chair. "What the hell. We're screwed anyway. Might as well go down fighting."
Ch.1|Ch. 2|Ch. 3|Ch. 4|Ch. 5|Ch. 6|Ch. 7|Ch. 8|Ch. 9|Ch. 10|Ch. 11|Ch. 12|Ch.13|Ch. 14|Ch. 15| Ch. 16| Ch. 17|Ch. 18| Ch. 19 | Ch. 20 | Ch. 21 | Ch. 22 | Ch. 23 | Ch. 24 | Ch. 25 | Ch. 26 | Ch. 27 | Ch. 28 | Ch. 29 | Ch. 30 | Ch. 31 | Ch. 32 | Ch. 33 | Ch. 34 | Ch. 35 | Ch. 36 | Ch. 37 | Ch. 38 | Ch. 39
Falling in Public
Chapter 40
Holly felt the plane shift, dip, and finally level off. Fearing the worst, she debated internally whether to go forward and check on Eddie, or to stay in her seat. Across the aisle, her stalker laughed.
"I wouldn't count on your hero coming back anytime soon," he sneered. "All of the men in my employ are armed, and trained for situations like this."
Holly placed both hands on the top of the seat in front of her and pulled, grunting as she cautiously put weight on her wounded leg. To hell with sitting back here. She was going to help Eddie get this plane on the ground, or die trying.
"Is that why your men are all on the floor up there?" she asked as she limped past. "Seems like well-trained men would have been able to fend off a measly two people."
He started to argue, but she slipped through the dividing curtain, muting him to the point where it all just sounded like more bable. Moving slow, she stepped over the sprawled limbs and dropped weapons. Finally getting past the guy she assumed was the pilot by the wings on his impeccable blue jacket, she reached the cockpit door.
"Eddie? It's Holly. Open up."
After a brief pause and several clicks from the other side of the door, it swung in, revealing Eddie holding a gun pointed straight at her face. She watched his eyes dart to either side of her, checking. Then he lowered the gun and pulled her in, shutting and locking the door.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, turning around to look at her. "Why are you on your feet?" There wasn't much space, and Holly found herself neatly pressed up against his hard chest.
Among other things.
She smiled. "Maybe I just missed you." Raising a hand to the muscles before her, she traced a finger down the center of his torso, pleased when he twitched under her touch. He grabbed her hand and brought it to his mouth, gallantly kissing the back.
"We don't have time for this, Holly. We're about out of gas with nowhere to land - not to mention I knocked out the pilot. Unless you know how to fly a plane..."
She shook her head. "No, but I have read a lot about it - I wrote a book about a pilot last year. I might be able to sort of figure it out."
He laughed. "You're kidding, right? You learned how to fly by reading a book? Sorry, but I just don't think that's going to work here. I Maybe we should find the parachutes. There has to be at least one."
"Eddie Pierce, I am not jumping out of a plane - especially not with this stupid leg. Just let me look at the controls. I bet I can figure it out. We can figure it out - you said you have a little knowledge, right?"
He shrugged and stepped aside, giving her access to the pilot's chair. "What the hell. We're screwed anyway. Might as well go down fighting."
Enjoy
this post? Support your author: Tempest
| Desert
Heat | The
Biker's Wench
| Flash Fiction
**Please
note - comments take a few moments to appear. If this is your first time posting, your comment
will be moderated.
