Kerry Freeman's Blog, page 5

Writing While Chronically Ill

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This, my friends, is what $8K looks like.

Twenty years ago, I was diagnosed with Crohn’s disease, an severe, incurable disease of the digestive system. I’ve taken numerous medications and lost count of the number of times I’ve been hospitalized. I’ve had six surgeries, which have resulted in losing a good bit of my bowel. My latest surgery was in February 2011. I missed two months of work and lost another foot of small bowel. It will probably not be my last surgery.

I made a choice early on that I wasn’t going to let Crohn’s win. The bastard fights dirty, let me tell you, but it has not gotten the upper hand. My last bad bout, which began in the spring of 2010 and ended right before I returned to work after my surgery in 2011, almost did me in, but I’m still hanging in there, still giving Crohn’s the double middle finger every chance I get.

To survive without losing my mind, I’ve had to get up every morning and put Crohn’s out of my mind. Sure, it’s there, and it’s hard not to remember it when I look at the road map of scars my abdomen has become. But I can’t worry about it every day. I can’t obsess over every little ache and pain without going batshit crazy. I’ve got to go through life as if I’ll never get sick again and deal with it when it happens.

Usually this works pretty well. My day job is as a web developer on a large team. While I’ve got projects I’m responsible for, things are handled when I’m on medical leave. I know my coworkers will make sure our customers are taken care of.

My first story was sold just before my surgery last year. The publisher rushed the edits to me so I could make sure everything was done before I went into the hospital. After my recovery, I sold my first book, which I’d written for NaNo the year before. By the time we worked on edits, I was feeling great.

Remember that bag of medication up there? I have Remicade infusions every seven weeks. It is the only medication that works for me, and it’s crucial that I have my infusions on time. However, the medication suppresses my immune system. Sometimes when I get a sniffle, it turns into a raging sinus infection overnight. Sometimes a raging sinus infection spreads to my chest and gives me raging bronchitis. It doesn’t help that it also means that the mono I got in July 2010 has resulted in a chronic Epstein-Barr infection.

My new book was contracted based on a proposal, and I didn’t have it finished when the proposal was accepted. No problem, though. I had plenty of time before the full manuscript was due to my editor.

Yeah, no problem. No problem until I got a sniffle that turned into a week at home on all kinds of antibiotics and decongestants. I wrote every day, but my word counts were hampered by the fact that I’d pretty much pass out after a couple of hundred words.

The attitude that had served me well through my illness and my day job bit me in the ass when it came to my writing. Pretending I’d never get sick meant I didn’t bank tons of words when I felt well for days when I didn’t. And the days I didn’t feel well really fucked up my schedule. My beta reader (hi Trinity *waves*) and my editor (hi Jules *waves*) were both very understanding, but I hated it.

My lesson learned: write as much as I can while on the good days so I don’t have to beat myself up on the bad ones.

Another lesson: Don’t let the nurse stick your wrist if you want to get any work done [image error]

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It’s amazing how fast you can type
with one hand when you have to.

Wordy Wednesday: A Matter of Trust by AC Katt (NSFW)

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Today I’m pleased to bring an excerpt from AC Katt’s upcoming book A Matter of Trust, which will be released on August 24th by MLR Press. Hope you enjoy it!

Blurb

Donald K. Drummond was the Master of all he surveyed; a legend in commercial real estate in New Jersey and by night a Master Dom at the gay BDSM club, Indiscrete. What he couldn’t find was a boy to call his own. That all changed when a nerd with taped glasses and worn Dockers barged into his office spilling his bottle of 1985 Bourdeau over his priceless Persian carpet. Brian Murphy came with a host of troubles, the least of which was his grasping Aunt, his invalid mother and his rather tenious position in Donald’s mail room. Can a Dom with issues of his own come to train and trust a needy boy from his own mailroom. It’s all A Matter of Trust.

Excerpt

Donald watched in his mind’s eye as his massive hands massaged the boy’s body with sweet scented almond oil, making love to his nipples and bare chest. His boy did not necessarily have a virgin ass, but it would be tight around his throbbing shaft. As Donald’s mind sunk into the whirlpool of his fantasy, his alternate persona, Master Bear of Indiscreet took hold.

Bear’s mouth would torment the balls bound with a cock ring and suck vigorously on his sub’s cock building pressure, so it leaked copious amounts of pre-cum, despite the tight fit of the leather harness surrounding the balls and base. Maybe, if the boy begged, he would add a weight or two to hang from the bindings. His boy had two nipples pierced. They had gone together to get it done.

Donald pictured a platinum chain connecting the piercings and smiled for the first time this morning. His cock rose rapidly as the familiar fantasy played. Throwing his head back, he pulled a long, hard stroke, dropping further into his daydream. He closed his eyes and pictured the scene. He grabbed at the bulbous head of his cock and stroked it to the script.

Bear honed his own skills in preparation for his boy by teaching Doms again. A picture-perfect Dominant in tight black silk and leathers highlighting what Antonio had called his kong-sized cock, Master Bear, the toughest Top in the state, hid a tender heart. He ratcheted up the heat as he pulled harder, while squeezing and rolling his balls in his other hand.

His fantasy played on in his mind standing in front of the sink. He and the boy attended a function at Indiscreet. He stood, speaking to Reed. Jim Boy, Reed’s sub, stood behind Reed in a Standing Attention mode.

His boy knelt, legs parted revealing his long, thin, perfectly formed cock, encased in a cock ring that Donald had secured a few hours before. His head remained bowed, but his eyes were alert beneath his long lashes to watch so he could anticipate Donald’s smallest desire. The boy kept his hands locked behind his neck, with his ass poised on the back of his heels, his spine straight and showing no strain after holding his position for over two hours.

Donald tapped his trousers with the index finger of his left hand, once. The boy rose with effortless grace from Kneeling Attention to his knees and, keeping his eyes lowered to the floor, crawled to a position which placed his face at the center of Donald’s belt. He opened his Master’s belt and undid the closure to his tailored pants.

The fantasy in his head was echoed by his now erect member. Abundant streaks of clear pre-cum leaked from Donald’s thick cock head. He took his manicured thumb and pressed it into the slit, rubbing the liquid around the head. His shaft felt as hard and heavy as polished concrete over steel, Donald let the fantasy to play out to its inevitable conclusion.

Donald closed his eyes and imagined the boy as he reached into Donald’s dark silk boxers with hesitancy, waiting for his Papa’s permission. Although his boy loved to suck his Master, he knew sucking his Master’s cock came as a privilege given or withheld at Master’s discretion. He caressed the sub’s wavy, platinum hair, pressing down on his head in encouragement. Those long slender fingers cupped and kneaded Donald’s balls as the boy’s hot tongue engulfed his cock and worked its way down to his sacs with cat-like licks.

His boy learned in detail what his Master craved. He followed the licks by flicking his tongue up, down, and across the prominent veins on the underside of his shaft. He would then adjust his mouth around and under the head of his Master’s huge cock, until Donald shivered with need. Donald pulled his boy’s head closer. This amazing boy gave him total control over every aspect of their lives. All he asked for in return was his Papa Bear’s attention and care for his health and happiness.

Bear thought he received immeasurably more. He tapped his boy’s neck and the perfect oval of a mouth with wet pink lips swallowed the whole nine inches of Bears fat cock until it hit the back of his throat. He relaxed his throat muscles and suppressed his gag reflex, and then he began to massage his Master’s cock with the muscles in his throat. To do this, he had to trust in his Master to pull back and let him breathe. The fantasy felt so real to him he could feel the boy sucking his cock.

Bear took pride in the fact the boy placed his hands in a locked position behind his back. He knew the Master he loved would never harm him. Therefore, the boy would neither gag nor attempt to pull back, giving Donald the power and trust to do as he would. Donald would go deep, fucking his boy’s mouth with hard, swift strokes. He would come in streams and his boy would swallow it all and keep Donald in his mouth, licking around the head and shaft until Donald became soft, drained dry and depleted.

When Donald ran a rifling touch through his hair, his boy straightened Donald’s clothes and resumed position, navy eyes shining up at his Master in adoration, love, and absolute trust.

Donald worked at his cock, and several strong pulls later, released. He came in long streaks all over the sink and countertop, leaving him shaken and holding onto the rim.

He knew his faults. Neither his face nor physique would win any competitions. He tried to even the playing field by the understated elegance of his surroundings and conservative panache of his wardrobe. Even if Bear would be more comfortable in jeans and leathers, he dressed like the Prince of Wales to convince himself of his own worth and prove to those who knew him back then, that now Donald Drummond was a man with whom to be reckoned. He finished cleaning the sink and vanity with a disposable wipe and whispered his request aloud.

“Give me a boy of my own. I need to be special to someone: A Papa Bear…” He had wasted enough time today on this foolishness, he really had to get…

A loud thump interrupted his thoughts, followed by the sound of a slight click. Seconds passed, then a muffled voice hissed, “Oh Shit…Fuck.”

AC on the web

AC on Twitter

Music Monday (on Tuesday): It’s not about the money

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Yesterday I was recovering from getting my manuscript to my editor, so I saved my happy dancing for today. I have two playlists I turn to when I want to celebrate: Happy Songs and Songs I Like to Sing. There’s several songs on both lists, but this morning I felt like happy dancing to Jessie J. This song, about doing something for the love of it rather than financial rewards, is a good reminder of what’s important when you create. And you can dance to it [image error]

Call Me Maybe Countdown #1: Miracles of Modern Science

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We’ve finally reached #1 on the Call Me Maybe countdown. We’ve seen lip syncs, parodies, spliced snippets of Star Wars, and a performance by Carly herself.

What we haven’t seen is an honest-to-goodness cover.

Well, that ends now. This cover by Miracles of Modern Science is awesome for many reasons, but the biggest is their ability to not take themselves too seriously.

Hope you enjoyed hearing the same song over and over and over again [image error] If you’ve got an interesting version, please share!

Music Monday: Call Me Maybe Countdown #2: Jimmy Fallon, Carly Rae Jepsen, and The Roots

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This might be cheating, just a tiny bit, since Carly Rae Jepsen is in the video. But it’s Jimmy Fallon and The Roots. On classroom instruments. And man Carly can play a mean triangle.

Call Me Maybe Countdown #3: Cookie Monster

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How can you not love Cookie Monster? He’s blue. He’s fluffy. He loves cookies, for god’s sake! And now, you can add pop singer to his list of attributes.

Call Me Maybe Countdown #4: 2012 US Olympic Swimming Team

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You gotta love the US Swimming team. They are just one big ball of adorkable. This video just proves it.

Bonus Honorable Mention: Now, he may be a little nutty, but Ryan Lochte is my favorite member of the team. Apparently I’m not the only one.

Call Me Maybe Countdown #5: Girls in the Apple Store

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See, here’s the thing. I’m old. Like ancient old. So I didn’t know the in thing to do was go to an Apple store and film yourself lipsyncing a pop song on one of the demo computers. I love this video because the girls are awesome and look like they’re having a blast.

Call Me Maybe Countdown #6: U.S. Marines

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No countdown would be complete without a video from the men and women of the U.S. Marines. These Marines are stationed in Afghanistan, and it’s good to see them bust a move or two.

To find out more about the making of the video, check out photographer Eric Raum’s blog.

Call Me Maybe Countdown #7: Call Me Batman

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When you think sugary summer pop, the first person you think of is Batman, am I right? Gotta love Batman’s husky singing voice, too.

Bonus Honorable Mention: While it didn’t make my top ten (mostly because it kinda makes my head hurt), this video shows that you can do anything given enough chapters of Star Wars.