Riley Murphy's Blog, page 31
June 23, 2013
Betrayed!!!!
When a devious pact is uncovered a domestic dispute ensues…unless you’re prepared to get creative. Here’s the rundown.
Yesterday I went out for lunch and Honey was supposed to be on a job site, doing whatever the hell he does all day,
when I get a phone call. I had just finished with lunch and intended to go shopping so the call? Kind of intrusive. Of course it’s him and I can tell by his voice there’s something wrong.
Now, most men dealing with a potential meltdown situation would ease into the bad news by making sure their woman wasn’t driving or you know, doing delicate surgery or something, but not Honey. Nope. He just throws it out there. Here’s the conversation.
“The dog is gone.”
“What do you mean gone?”
“She didn’t greet me at the door when I got home. I asked Madge (that’s my mother for those of you who don’t know) if she let her out and now she’s crying.”
“My mother’s crying? Did she let the pooch out? Did—”
“Yeah, I checked the gates. They’re closed. I’m just heading back to the job. I’ll drop off the equipment the guys need and then I’ll come home.”
“Okay.” My mind is racing a mile-a-minute. If the gates were locked and The Divine One wasn’t in the yard? (I must pause here to explain that as an author I have a very fertile imagination. So you gotta know I’m building an abduction plot that would rival John Paul Getti’s. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
It was more like fifteen, but when I pulled into the drive Honey is just getting out of his truck.
“Hi. Any word? Did she turn up?”
Honey shakes his head. “I even took a few minutes to tour the neighborhood. Nothing.”
We are both quiet as we walk up to the door. Normally there’s a little nose pressed against the glass looking out at us. This more than anything gives me that sick feeling of loss. What was I going to do if we don’t find her. What if she’s hurt? What if—?
We’d just gotten into the house and Honey does what he usually does. He walks right through to the kitchen to put down his keys and the second they make a clatter on the counter a little head pops up out of the couch. WTF!!!!
This is a triple “SH*T” moment here people, because Honey doesn’t know about the unspoken pact I made with The Divine One. Said agreement basically stipulates that she gets to do whatever she wants when Honey’s not home, but once he comes through that door she must behave like a dog and NOT get up on the furniture, beds or bar stools.
Right then I knew I was screwed because the little shitball apparently didn’t know, or worse, didn’t care that daddy was home as she eased her head back down and continued taking her afternoon “siesta”.
Here she is nonplussed at seeing me… (click here to see)
Here she is returning to slumber…(Click here to see)
And here she is in jail after daddy yelled at her.(Click here to see)
He yelled at me too. Actually it was more a stern talking to before I suggested he ground me and send me to my room where he could join me. >:) Heheheh. See? Creative. I made him forget all about The Divine One’s antics.
Riley
P.S. I updated my “In The Works” page so if you want to see what’s cooking there check it out.
Yesterday I went out for lunch and Honey was supposed to be on a job site, doing whatever the hell he does all day,
when I get a phone call. I had just finished with lunch and intended to go shopping so the call? Kind of intrusive. Of course it’s him and I can tell by his voice there’s something wrong.Now, most men dealing with a potential meltdown situation would ease into the bad news by making sure their woman wasn’t driving or you know, doing delicate surgery or something, but not Honey. Nope. He just throws it out there. Here’s the conversation.
“The dog is gone.”
“What do you mean gone?”
“She didn’t greet me at the door when I got home. I asked Madge (that’s my mother for those of you who don’t know) if she let her out and now she’s crying.”
“My mother’s crying? Did she let the pooch out? Did—”
“Yeah, I checked the gates. They’re closed. I’m just heading back to the job. I’ll drop off the equipment the guys need and then I’ll come home.”
“Okay.” My mind is racing a mile-a-minute. If the gates were locked and The Divine One wasn’t in the yard? (I must pause here to explain that as an author I have a very fertile imagination. So you gotta know I’m building an abduction plot that would rival John Paul Getti’s. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
It was more like fifteen, but when I pulled into the drive Honey is just getting out of his truck.
“Hi. Any word? Did she turn up?”
Honey shakes his head. “I even took a few minutes to tour the neighborhood. Nothing.”
We are both quiet as we walk up to the door. Normally there’s a little nose pressed against the glass looking out at us. This more than anything gives me that sick feeling of loss. What was I going to do if we don’t find her. What if she’s hurt? What if—?
We’d just gotten into the house and Honey does what he usually does. He walks right through to the kitchen to put down his keys and the second they make a clatter on the counter a little head pops up out of the couch. WTF!!!!
This is a triple “SH*T” moment here people, because Honey doesn’t know about the unspoken pact I made with The Divine One. Said agreement basically stipulates that she gets to do whatever she wants when Honey’s not home, but once he comes through that door she must behave like a dog and NOT get up on the furniture, beds or bar stools.
Right then I knew I was screwed because the little shitball apparently didn’t know, or worse, didn’t care that daddy was home as she eased her head back down and continued taking her afternoon “siesta”.
Here she is nonplussed at seeing me… (click here to see)
Here she is returning to slumber…(Click here to see)
And here she is in jail after daddy yelled at her.(Click here to see)
He yelled at me too. Actually it was more a stern talking to before I suggested he ground me and send me to my room where he could join me. >:) Heheheh. See? Creative. I made him forget all about The Divine One’s antics.
Riley
P.S. I updated my “In The Works” page so if you want to see what’s cooking there check it out.
June 11, 2013
MEET GRADY AND PAIGE…
Grady & Paige
This is an excerpt of the novella I’m just polishing up that will be included in an erotic and steamy anthology with Bestselling author, Christine Bell, writing under the pen name Chloe Cole.
Prologue
He was silent and I knew what that meant.
Trouble.
Well, of course I was in trouble. This was one of the few times in my marriage I’d purposely gone out of my way to provoke him. A hard thing to do with a man like Grady. He took staying calm and being in control to a new level when I pushed past certain boundaries. It was one of the things I loved best about him. And probably the very reason I married him, as we both knew I needed his brutal reserve. It was true. I craved it so much sometimes I’d lie right next to him in bed and silently will him to roll over and make me suffer in some erotic way. God, I loved when he did that.
“Why did you meet with her when I specifically asked you not to?”
I wanted to look up. To see the gleam in his sherry-colored eyes. When he was like this, I knew what to expect. His unwavering gaze would be sparkling with sharp purpose, and the blades within that resolve would slice right through me until the surrounding air got thin, and I’d be fighting to catch my breath. Even now, standing before him with my eyes downcast, I was affected. Maybe more so as I knew what my next words would trigger.
“I did it because I wanted to.” I’d already decided to put it all out there. After all, I was the one who’d picked this fight. “I knew even if I begged you to let me go with them, you wouldn’t, so I lied.”
Oddly, the quiet that fell between us made noise. It buzzed in my ears like high frequency wiring. Annoying. Telling. And charged with such dark promise that my heart raced under my breast.
“I see.”
Those two small words, although spoken in a low tone of voice, felt as if he’d shouted them at me. I couldn’t help the flinch. They were followed soon after by a wave of intoxicating adrenaline that washed over me. The crisp syllables were a verbal lick that got me hot from inside out. I was ready. No, dying for the kind of attention that only he could give.
At that point, I knew better than to speak. Unless I was asked a direct question, I’d stare at the floor. Grady didn’t like it when I manipulated him. When I did, I got punished. And now, just the thought that I was being held accountable and that he cared enough to go to such measures had my pulse beating at triple time.
“Did she touch you?”
“No,” I whispered, even though the truth was much more complicated than that. Kerry-ann may not have put a finger on me. Our skin may not have touched flesh to flesh today, but she’d branded me just the same. She’d marked me as something she wanted because I showed up. And she was right to do so. Maybe not in the way she thought, but definitely for what I had planned… eventually, for him.
“Take off the blouse.”
There was no please. No Mr. Nice Guy. Just the Grady I’d fallen madly in love with. Telling me— no ordering me— to do something, and I did it without complaint.
“Now the bra.”
I guessed that he was sitting on our bench at the bottom of the bed. As I unhooked the clasp at my back, I thought about all the nasty things we’d done on that bench. All the things he liked to do to me on it and I started to shake.
“Very good. Toss it on the blouse. Now, take off your skirt and what you’re wearing underneath it, but before you do, I want you to answer one question. Head up, and eyes on me.”
Damn. This was going to be hard. Bad. I tilted my head and looked at him. That was my first mistake. Jesus, God, he was a wet dream come to life. Gritty and masculine. He was always put together like he’d just stepped out of a very welcoming bed. Out from between the sheets that I always kept warm for him. Always. But angry like he was now? It did something to me. Made me ache harder for him. Want him just that much more.
“I want to know, was this a mistake?”
Everything in me screamed, lie. Say yes. But I couldn’t. That’s not who Grady and I were as a couple. It was all about honesty. That’s what he’d taught me and why this particular breech was so bad. One deep breath in, and then I let it out slowly and said, “No.”
“Take the rest of your clothes off, but leave the shoes and go to the corner.”
I didn’t hesitate to do as he instructed. Although it had been awhile, the corner and I were great friends. It didn’t surprise me at all that he wanted me to leave the shoes on. Four inch spikes were his favorite. If I loved slutty shoes, he loved to see them on me more.
“Graceful.” That reminder was like a slap on the ass. I’d been so busy thinking about my shoes I wasn’t paying attention. A dangerous thing to do around him when he was like this.
Nodding, I slowed my pace and made the adjustments. I knew what he wanted. He adored his rituals and I loved that he did.
I assumed the position, with hands braced up over my head. Palms flat, back arched and ass out. Leaning in until my nose touched the wall crease, I waited. Grady always repositioned me. No matter how hard I tried to get it right the first time he always found some fault and I—
The heat of his hand on my hip stole all my thoughts. The pressure he exerted by pushing me to the left got me wet. My nipples tightened and when he spoke the breath caught in my throat.
“Spread your legs a little wider. That’s right. Up you get.” He used his other hand and cupped it between my thighs as he lifted me. “Jesus you’re soaked. I wonder why?” he whispered in my ear as he pinched the sensitive bundle of nerves beneath his fingertips. “Do you like to be punished? Does my naughty girl like this?” He jiggled his hold and I thought I was going to pass out. It was such blissful torture.
“I want you to answer me, Paige.”
He crushed the delicate flesh between strong fingers and I couldn’t hold back a groan. “Yes.”
“I’m glad.” He curled down until we were cheek to cheek. “It’s a pleasure I can easily take away.”
True to his words he let go of me and I wanted to cry.
“You’re going to stay just like this. Ass up and nose to the corner for fifteen minutes. Do you understand?”
“But it’s uncomfortable. I—”
“It’s now twenty minutes. Go ahead and whine some more. You know how I love to see you like this.”
I remained silent because he did love this part of the punishment. When I was forced to my position and had to fight off the muscle fatigue no matter what.
“Twenty minutes of silent reflection. You’re going to think about what you did today, correct?”
“Y-yes.”
“And when you’re done thinking and your twenty minutes are up, I’m going to give you something to remind you not to be so foolish again. What do you have to say?”
I didn’t hesitate to answer. My time didn’t start until he said so and already my calves were burning from the strain. “Th-thank-you, sir.”
“I think the cane is in order. What do you think?”
“Yes, sir. The cane.”
“Also…”
I closed my eyes and tried not to tremble, but when his palm came to rest on my right ass cheek and he tapped his index and forefinger as if he were contemplating, anxiety built. Over the buzzing in my ears I heard that voice in my head whispering, You’ve done it now. You went too far. And I knew that I had when he curled down and brushed my hair aside.
“It’s 5:04. I’m noting the time as you’ve lost the privilege of your one night for the next six months. At 5:04 a half a year from now, you may have it back, but until then?” He splayed his huge warm hand, which oddly left me feeling cold, over my ass and patted once before he gave me a sharp smack that woke me right up. With eyes wide open I stared into the crease of the wall, wishing I hadn’t been so bold after all. Six months without my night?
“Fucking hell.”
“Did you say something?”
I wasn’t going to answer that. Grady was furious. The fact that he didn’t press me to reply proved it. With firm resolve, I gritted my teeth, tamped down the thrill that wound through me and paced myself. Wasn’t this what I’d been after? His undivided attention? Yes, but not at the expense of my precious turn.
This time when I mouthed the words, fucking hell, not once but three times I made damn sure he wouldn’t see it.
“Are you reflecting?”
“Yes sir.”
And I was….
June 8, 2013
MY NEXT HERO AND HEROINE…
THIS IS GRADY. HE’S TALL, DARK AND DEMANDING
THIS IS PAIGE. SHE’S SMALL, DARING AND FEISTY
So you gotta know, when the two of them clash over something she did, things (for her) are going to go south fast.
Excerpt
“Head up and eyes on me.”
Damn. This was going to be hard. Bad. I tilted my head and looked at him. That was my first mistake. Jesus, God, he was a wet dream come to life. Gritty and masculine. He was always put together like he’d just stepped out of a very welcoming bed. Out from between our sheets that I always kept warm for him. Always. But angry like he was now? It did something to me. Made me ache harder for him. Want him just that much more.
“I want to know. Was this a mistake?”
Everything in me screamed, lie. Say yes. But I couldn’t. That’s not who Grady and I were as a couple. It was all about honesty. That’s what he’d taught me, and the very reason this particular breech was so bad. One deep breath in and then I let it out slowly, and said, “No.”
“Take the rest of your clothes off, but leave the shoes and go to the corner.”
(end of excerpt)
This is a little snippet from the story I’ve written that will be included a mini erotic anthology. I’m going to post the rest of the excerpt with other info, like title and approximate release date, mid-week. But until then, let me just say, these two are…how can I put this? In the kink department? They compliment each other very, very, well. Heheheh.
Riley
June 4, 2013
HMM…
There I was walking the pooch yesterday afternoon and minding my own business when I was hijacked. Sometimes, not all the time, just sometimes, I like to put my ear buds in and blast music while I work through a tricky scene, and yesterday? It was one of those times.
Unfortunately, a neighbor decided she needed to have a burning question answered. So there I was, yanking out my buds, corralling the pooch and trying to be polite when all I could think of was where my mind had just been. (Think snowed-in manor house with a raging fire, one huge and gorgeous hero and a petrified heroine looking for a weapon, and you’d have the visual) Anyway, to say that I was having a hard time grasping what she’d just asked me would have been understating the matter completely. Here’s the conversation…
Neighbor. “Don’t you guys every fight?”
I look down at the dog, who is pretty much cool with hanging out with me no matter where we are, and frown. Of course I don’t fight with the pooch as a rule. So I look up and shake my head. “With the dog? Not really.”
“With your husband.”
Hm. Kind of a personal question, I was thinking, but then I also thought she wouldn’t have chased me down and asked it if she wasn’t desperate. As an aside, this neighbor and I are just casual acquaintances, so I was a little caught off-guard. I was also enlightened to the fact that she’d never read this blog because if she had, she’d know that Honey and I argue all the time.
“Oh, Yeah. Absolutely.”
“But you’re always out walking together and I never see you yelling.”
Hm, again. Good to know we’re being spied on. But now I’m intrigued. Call me nuts, but at this point I’m thinking this might make a good blog post. >:) “I try to do all my yelling behind closed doors.” A total fabrication. Trust me, on this. If I felt like yelling at Honey in the middle of an airport (I SO did that once) I would.
“But you walk every day with him. I see you smiling and laughing.”
Okay people, the pooch is getting restless. The sweat is trickling down my neck in ninety degree heat and to my mind? This conversation is not as blog-worthy as I had hoped. Time to get to the point and get the hell out of there. “Is there something I can do for you?”
*I shall pause here to impart some words of wisdom. Never. Did I say never? I meant NEVER ask that question when you’re being hijacked by a woman who thinks you don’t fight with your husband.*
“I want to know how you get him to go for walks with you. ****** (Name redacted for privacy and possible lawsuit complications) won’t walk with me. He’s even given up on date night and I don’t know what to do.”
The dog is panting in the heat. I’m melting and all I can think is, who stuck the sign on my back that reads “Marriage counselor open for business”? “I’m sorry to hear that. Have you thought about talking to someone (I didn’t add other than me, but I wanted to really bad) about this?”
“Yes I did. That’s why I’m asking.”
She smiled and I felt bad. I also mentally snapped my fingers because I should have said, “other than me”, another bit of wisdom you may take from me people. You’re welcome.
So here’s the deal. I spent the next twenty listening to her complaints and concerns. All generic, if you ask me, as we ALL have stresses, issues and imperfections in our relationships. This is when I discovered the obvious difference between me and her. I accept imperfections in my relationship. In fact I expect them. That’s the challenge. It’s not trying to attain perfection (because, you gotta know that’s never going to happen) it’s about learning how to roll with your partner’s flaws that really requires elbow grease in a marriage or relationship.
So when I suggested she may want to examine her partner’s weaknesses instead of resenting his strengths, she was a little taken aback. “I don’t resent him.”
My answer to that? “You just spent twenty minutes complaining to me about how he’s capable of doing certain things, but he just won’t. If I were you, I’d be looking at this from the flipside. Why isn’t he doing the things he’s capable of?”
I’m not sure she understood what I was trying to convey, but there is logic here. I’ve always maintained that we learn more from studying our weakness, than from concentrating on our strengths. So, if you believe that, then in a way, this makes our weakness stronger, doesn’t it? But to get back to her dilemma. To my way of thinking she’s spending far too much time focusing in on his “letting her down” by not utilizing his known strengths to the best of his advantage just to please her, instead of exploring why he’s “letting himself down” by caving into his weaknesses and not being the man he’s capable of being. She’ll never have a man at his full potential if she doesn’t help him understand that he has to please himself before he can please anyone else. Her included.
Yeah, I know. At the end of that conversation she was probably going… *insert the mighty globe here*
And what was I thinking? *beams* My work there was done because she’ll never hijack me again. She did get me thinking. Not about what I should have been, but an interesting topic nonetheless.
Riley
Unfortunately, a neighbor decided she needed to have a burning question answered. So there I was, yanking out my buds, corralling the pooch and trying to be polite when all I could think of was where my mind had just been. (Think snowed-in manor house with a raging fire, one huge and gorgeous hero and a petrified heroine looking for a weapon, and you’d have the visual) Anyway, to say that I was having a hard time grasping what she’d just asked me would have been understating the matter completely. Here’s the conversation…
Neighbor. “Don’t you guys every fight?”
I look down at the dog, who is pretty much cool with hanging out with me no matter where we are, and frown. Of course I don’t fight with the pooch as a rule. So I look up and shake my head. “With the dog? Not really.”
“With your husband.”
Hm. Kind of a personal question, I was thinking, but then I also thought she wouldn’t have chased me down and asked it if she wasn’t desperate. As an aside, this neighbor and I are just casual acquaintances, so I was a little caught off-guard. I was also enlightened to the fact that she’d never read this blog because if she had, she’d know that Honey and I argue all the time.
“Oh, Yeah. Absolutely.”
“But you’re always out walking together and I never see you yelling.”
Hm, again. Good to know we’re being spied on. But now I’m intrigued. Call me nuts, but at this point I’m thinking this might make a good blog post. >:) “I try to do all my yelling behind closed doors.” A total fabrication. Trust me, on this. If I felt like yelling at Honey in the middle of an airport (I SO did that once) I would.
“But you walk every day with him. I see you smiling and laughing.”
Okay people, the pooch is getting restless. The sweat is trickling down my neck in ninety degree heat and to my mind? This conversation is not as blog-worthy as I had hoped. Time to get to the point and get the hell out of there. “Is there something I can do for you?”
*I shall pause here to impart some words of wisdom. Never. Did I say never? I meant NEVER ask that question when you’re being hijacked by a woman who thinks you don’t fight with your husband.*
“I want to know how you get him to go for walks with you. ****** (Name redacted for privacy and possible lawsuit complications) won’t walk with me. He’s even given up on date night and I don’t know what to do.”
The dog is panting in the heat. I’m melting and all I can think is, who stuck the sign on my back that reads “Marriage counselor open for business”? “I’m sorry to hear that. Have you thought about talking to someone (I didn’t add other than me, but I wanted to really bad) about this?”
“Yes I did. That’s why I’m asking.”
She smiled and I felt bad. I also mentally snapped my fingers because I should have said, “other than me”, another bit of wisdom you may take from me people. You’re welcome.
So here’s the deal. I spent the next twenty listening to her complaints and concerns. All generic, if you ask me, as we ALL have stresses, issues and imperfections in our relationships. This is when I discovered the obvious difference between me and her. I accept imperfections in my relationship. In fact I expect them. That’s the challenge. It’s not trying to attain perfection (because, you gotta know that’s never going to happen) it’s about learning how to roll with your partner’s flaws that really requires elbow grease in a marriage or relationship.
So when I suggested she may want to examine her partner’s weaknesses instead of resenting his strengths, she was a little taken aback. “I don’t resent him.”
My answer to that? “You just spent twenty minutes complaining to me about how he’s capable of doing certain things, but he just won’t. If I were you, I’d be looking at this from the flipside. Why isn’t he doing the things he’s capable of?”
I’m not sure she understood what I was trying to convey, but there is logic here. I’ve always maintained that we learn more from studying our weakness, than from concentrating on our strengths. So, if you believe that, then in a way, this makes our weakness stronger, doesn’t it? But to get back to her dilemma. To my way of thinking she’s spending far too much time focusing in on his “letting her down” by not utilizing his known strengths to the best of his advantage just to please her, instead of exploring why he’s “letting himself down” by caving into his weaknesses and not being the man he’s capable of being. She’ll never have a man at his full potential if she doesn’t help him understand that he has to please himself before he can please anyone else. Her included.
Yeah, I know. At the end of that conversation she was probably going… *insert the mighty globe here*
And what was I thinking? *beams* My work there was done because she’ll never hijack me again.
She did get me thinking. Not about what I should have been, but an interesting topic nonetheless.Riley
YOU TALKING TO ME? YOU TALKING TO ME, PUNK? HUH? HUH?
There I was walking the pooch yesterday afternoon and minding my own business when I was hijacked. Sometimes, not all the time, just sometimes, I like to put my ear buds in and blast music while I work through a tricky scene, and yesterday? It was one of those times.
Unfortunately, a neighbor decided she needed to have a burning question answered. So there I was, yanking out my buds, corralling the pooch and trying to be polite when all I could think of was where my mind had just been. (Think snowed-in manor house with a raging fire, one huge and gorgeous hero and a petrified heroine looking for a weapon, and you’d have the visual) Anyway, to say that I was having a hard time grasping what she’d just asked me would have been understating the matter completely. Here’s the conversation…
Neighbor. “Don’t you guys every fight?”
I look down at the dog, who is pretty much cool with hanging out with me no matter where we are, and frown. Of course I don’t fight with the pooch as a rule. So I look up and shake my head. “With the dog? Not really.”
“With your husband.”
Hm. Kind of a personal question, I was thinking, but then I also thought she wouldn’t have chased me down and asked it if she wasn’t desperate. As an aside, this neighbor and I are just casual acquaintances, so I was a little caught off-guard. I was also enlightened to the fact that she’d never read this blog because if she had, she’d know that Honey and I argue all the time.
“Oh, Yeah. Absolutely.”
“But you’re always out walking together and I never see you yelling.”
Hm, again. Good to know we’re being spied on. But now I’m intrigued. Call me nuts, but at this point I’m thinking this might make a good blog post. >:) “I try to do all my yelling behind closed doors.” A total fabrication. Trust me, on this. If I felt like yelling at Honey in the middle of an airport (I SO did that once) I would.
“But you walk every day with him. I see you smiling and laughing.”
Okay people, the pooch is getting restless. The sweat is trickling down my neck in ninety degree heat and to my mind? This conversation is not as blog-worthy as I had hoped. Time to get to the point and get the hell out of there. “Is there something I can do for you?”
*I shall pause here to impart some words of wisdom. Never. Did I say never? I meant NEVER ask that question when you’re being hijacked by a woman who thinks you don’t fight with your husband.*
“I want to know how you get him to go for walks with you. ****** (Name redacted for privacy and possible lawsuit complications) won’t walk with me. He’s even given up on date night and I don’t know what to do.”
The dog is panting in the heat. I’m melting and all I can think is, who stuck the sign on my back that reads “Marriage counselor open for business”? “I’m sorry to hear that. Have you thought about talking to someone (I didn’t add other than me, but I wanted to really bad) about this?”
“Yes I did. That’s why I’m asking.”
She smiled and I felt bad. I also mentally snapped my fingers because I should have said, “other than me”, another bit of wisdom you may take from me people. You’re welcome.
So here’s the deal. I spent the next twenty listening to her complaints and concerns. All generic, if you ask me, as we ALL have stresses, issues and imperfections in our relationships. This is when I discovered the obvious difference between me and her. I accept imperfections in my relationship. In fact I expect them. That’s the challenge. It’s not trying to attain perfection (because, you gotta know that’s never going to happen) it’s about learning how to roll with your partner’s flaws that really requires elbow grease in a marriage or relationship.
So when I suggested she may want to examine her partner’s weaknesses instead of resenting his strengths, she was a little taken aback. “I don’t resent him.”
My answer to that? “You just spent twenty minutes complaining to me about how he’s capable of doing certain things, but he just won’t. If I were you, I’d be looking at this from the flipside. Why isn’t he doing the things he’s capable of?”
I’m not sure she understood what I was trying to convey, but there is logic here. I’ve always maintained that we learn more from studying our weakness, than from concentrating on our strengths. So, if you believe that, then in a way, this makes our weakness stronger, doesn’t it? But to get back to her dilemma. To my way of thinking she’s spending far too much time focusing in on his “letting her down” by not utilizing his known strengths to the best of his advantage just to please her, instead of exploring why he’s “letting himself down” by caving into his weaknesses and not being the man he’s capable of being. She’ll never have a man at his full potential if she doesn’t help him understand that he has to please himself before he can please anyone else. Her included.
Yeah, I know. At the end of that conversation she was probably going… *insert the mighty globe here*
And what was I thinking? *beams* My work there was done because she’ll never hijack me again. She did get me thinking. Not about what I should have been, but an interesting topic nonetheless.
Riley
Unfortunately, a neighbor decided she needed to have a burning question answered. So there I was, yanking out my buds, corralling the pooch and trying to be polite when all I could think of was where my mind had just been. (Think snowed-in manor house with a raging fire, one huge and gorgeous hero and a petrified heroine looking for a weapon, and you’d have the visual) Anyway, to say that I was having a hard time grasping what she’d just asked me would have been understating the matter completely. Here’s the conversation…
Neighbor. “Don’t you guys every fight?”
I look down at the dog, who is pretty much cool with hanging out with me no matter where we are, and frown. Of course I don’t fight with the pooch as a rule. So I look up and shake my head. “With the dog? Not really.”
“With your husband.”
Hm. Kind of a personal question, I was thinking, but then I also thought she wouldn’t have chased me down and asked it if she wasn’t desperate. As an aside, this neighbor and I are just casual acquaintances, so I was a little caught off-guard. I was also enlightened to the fact that she’d never read this blog because if she had, she’d know that Honey and I argue all the time.
“Oh, Yeah. Absolutely.”
“But you’re always out walking together and I never see you yelling.”
Hm, again. Good to know we’re being spied on. But now I’m intrigued. Call me nuts, but at this point I’m thinking this might make a good blog post. >:) “I try to do all my yelling behind closed doors.” A total fabrication. Trust me, on this. If I felt like yelling at Honey in the middle of an airport (I SO did that once) I would.
“But you walk every day with him. I see you smiling and laughing.”
Okay people, the pooch is getting restless. The sweat is trickling down my neck in ninety degree heat and to my mind? This conversation is not as blog-worthy as I had hoped. Time to get to the point and get the hell out of there. “Is there something I can do for you?”
*I shall pause here to impart some words of wisdom. Never. Did I say never? I meant NEVER ask that question when you’re being hijacked by a woman who thinks you don’t fight with your husband.*
“I want to know how you get him to go for walks with you. ****** (Name redacted for privacy and possible lawsuit complications) won’t walk with me. He’s even given up on date night and I don’t know what to do.”
The dog is panting in the heat. I’m melting and all I can think is, who stuck the sign on my back that reads “Marriage counselor open for business”? “I’m sorry to hear that. Have you thought about talking to someone (I didn’t add other than me, but I wanted to really bad) about this?”
“Yes I did. That’s why I’m asking.”
She smiled and I felt bad. I also mentally snapped my fingers because I should have said, “other than me”, another bit of wisdom you may take from me people. You’re welcome.
So here’s the deal. I spent the next twenty listening to her complaints and concerns. All generic, if you ask me, as we ALL have stresses, issues and imperfections in our relationships. This is when I discovered the obvious difference between me and her. I accept imperfections in my relationship. In fact I expect them. That’s the challenge. It’s not trying to attain perfection (because, you gotta know that’s never going to happen) it’s about learning how to roll with your partner’s flaws that really requires elbow grease in a marriage or relationship.
So when I suggested she may want to examine her partner’s weaknesses instead of resenting his strengths, she was a little taken aback. “I don’t resent him.”
My answer to that? “You just spent twenty minutes complaining to me about how he’s capable of doing certain things, but he just won’t. If I were you, I’d be looking at this from the flipside. Why isn’t he doing the things he’s capable of?”
I’m not sure she understood what I was trying to convey, but there is logic here. I’ve always maintained that we learn more from studying our weakness, than from concentrating on our strengths. So, if you believe that, then in a way, this makes our weakness stronger, doesn’t it? But to get back to her dilemma. To my way of thinking she’s spending far too much time focusing in on his “letting her down” by not utilizing his known strengths to the best of his advantage just to please her, instead of exploring why he’s “letting himself down” by caving into his weaknesses and not being the man he’s capable of being. She’ll never have a man at his full potential if she doesn’t help him understand that he has to please himself before he can please anyone else. Her included.
Yeah, I know. At the end of that conversation she was probably going… *insert the mighty globe here*
And what was I thinking? *beams* My work there was done because she’ll never hijack me again.
She did get me thinking. Not about what I should have been, but an interesting topic nonetheless.Riley
May 31, 2013
DIVA DOG NIGHTS!!!
Here is the culprit who caused my little domestic dispute in the wee morning hours…
Seriously? How can you get mad at that face. Of course, this is the way I see her.
And…
This is the way Honey sees her. (Probably a more accurate depiction)
But that’s beside the point. To set this up, Honey and I had been in bed for a few hours when our little canine creeper snuck into our room. Mind you, she has her own little bed with the best blankets and lamb’s wool—yeah, well never mind about the hundreds of dollars I’ve spent on making a “Princess and the Pea” bed for her. Just trust me on this. In a pinch I’d be tempted to sleep in it.
So anyways, she does what she usually does and creeps into our room to sleep on the “emergency” bed (think of this like the pull-out you keep for company) as before I retire for the night I slip this out from under my side of the bed for my girl. (Keep that one under your hats folks, because Honey doesn’t know about it) he just thinks she’s so desperate she’s sleeping on the floor.
So there we are last night, both wide away at 4am because out little “princess” has a cold and is snoring like an overweight trucker who tied one on. Of course I’m ignoring our duvet shaking in the ear-split sound waves she’s producing, when Honey’s had enough and orders her to go to her bed. *sniffle* The sad and pathetic sight of her drooping her way out of our room really upset me. I mean, what’s the loss of one night’s sleep so our furry butter-cup can be happy?
Honey wasn’t amused and neither was I. You can bet I was steaming when he started drumming the mattress (for those of you who don’t know about this little habit of his click here). I shoot up on elbow and growl, “Do you mind? Quit doing that. I’m trying to get some sleep.”
I flop back down on my pillow and stare at the ceiling, still in a huff for him kicking my baby’s ass out of our room, when he curls his arm around my waist. I wasn’t going to be sweet-talked. I turned away, but he still hauled me to him so my back was against his front.
“You’re going to call me out for this when the dog’s snoring sounds like a 747 is landing in our room?”
He curled down and kissed my temple, and then cheek, but I remained strong. “Yes.”
“Don’t be mad at me,” he breathed. Then he started to nuzzle my neck while he squeezed me in tight and I was just forgetting about everything until he whispered, “I’m not mad at you for luring her in here every night with the dog bed you hide under ours.”
Dammit. My eyes pop open and I’m left staring at his big hand. Watching his fingers annoyingly tap on the mattress. His message was clear. If I wanted to keep the sneaky hide -a-away for my girl, he got to keep his annoying habit.
Perfect.
Oh, and I guess, by now, you’ve figured out there’s no need to keep that one under your beret anymore, because laissez le chat sur le sac… FYI, I’m trying to master French for no other reason than it drives him crazy. And not in the, Gomez Addam’s to Morticia way either. More like, my Tweety bird to his Sylvester. Why every time I call him a beautiful tree, he thinks I’m swearing at him. *dreamy sigh* Yes, it’s all about inflection. Say it like you mean it.
I’m so bad. Poor guy.
Riley
Seriously? How can you get mad at that face. Of course, this is the way I see her.
And…
This is the way Honey sees her. (Probably a more accurate depiction)
But that’s beside the point. To set this up, Honey and I had been in bed for a few hours when our little canine creeper snuck into our room. Mind you, she has her own little bed with the best blankets and lamb’s wool—yeah, well never mind about the hundreds of dollars I’ve spent on making a “Princess and the Pea” bed for her. Just trust me on this. In a pinch I’d be tempted to sleep in it.
So anyways, she does what she usually does and creeps into our room to sleep on the “emergency” bed (think of this like the pull-out you keep for company) as before I retire for the night I slip this out from under my side of the bed for my girl. (Keep that one under your hats folks, because Honey doesn’t know about it) he just thinks she’s so desperate she’s sleeping on the floor.
So there we are last night, both wide away at 4am because out little “princess” has a cold and is snoring like an overweight trucker who tied one on. Of course I’m ignoring our duvet shaking in the ear-split sound waves she’s producing, when Honey’s had enough and orders her to go to her bed. *sniffle* The sad and pathetic sight of her drooping her way out of our room really upset me. I mean, what’s the loss of one night’s sleep so our furry butter-cup can be happy?
Honey wasn’t amused and neither was I. You can bet I was steaming when he started drumming the mattress (for those of you who don’t know about this little habit of his click here). I shoot up on elbow and growl, “Do you mind? Quit doing that. I’m trying to get some sleep.”
I flop back down on my pillow and stare at the ceiling, still in a huff for him kicking my baby’s ass out of our room, when he curls his arm around my waist. I wasn’t going to be sweet-talked. I turned away, but he still hauled me to him so my back was against his front.
“You’re going to call me out for this when the dog’s snoring sounds like a 747 is landing in our room?”
He curled down and kissed my temple, and then cheek, but I remained strong. “Yes.”
“Don’t be mad at me,” he breathed. Then he started to nuzzle my neck while he squeezed me in tight and I was just forgetting about everything until he whispered, “I’m not mad at you for luring her in here every night with the dog bed you hide under ours.”
Dammit. My eyes pop open and I’m left staring at his big hand. Watching his fingers annoyingly tap on the mattress. His message was clear. If I wanted to keep the sneaky hide -a-away for my girl, he got to keep his annoying habit.
Perfect.
Oh, and I guess, by now, you’ve figured out there’s no need to keep that one under your beret anymore, because laissez le chat sur le sac… FYI, I’m trying to master French for no other reason than it drives him crazy. And not in the, Gomez Addam’s to Morticia way either. More like, my Tweety bird to his Sylvester. Why every time I call him a beautiful tree, he thinks I’m swearing at him. *dreamy sigh* Yes, it’s all about inflection. Say it like you mean it.
I’m so bad. Poor guy.
Riley
May 28, 2013
WANNA SEE HOW I FULFILLED SOMEONE’S LIFELONG FANTASY?
You might call this a snow globe moment, but it’s not. I promise.
Hop on over to Creative loafing to read all about. Here’s a sample of a few of the phrases bandied about: Proverbial slave boy, multi-talented cross-dresser, serial-masturbator/lama herdsman with a philosopher’s heart. Seriously, where else will you find such an eclectic grouping of wordsmithery going down?
Oh, and have you checked out STARE ME DOWN’S latest reviews? Click on the cover if you want to have a peek. I’m thrilled!!!!!
May 22, 2013
TO CELEBRATE STARE ME DOWN MAKING AMAZON’S TOP 100 BESTSELLING BOOKS…
Head over to Cassandra Carr’s blog and leave a comment. You’ll be entered for a chance to win a copy, or your choice of one from my back list. Actually, you could pick one to wait for. One of my next releases too. I’m easy as I’m over-the-moon with all this. I love reader emails too. So PLEASE keep ‘em coming.
If you want to check out the latest reviews on Stare Me Down, just click here or, if you want to check out the reviews on some of my other books, just click here. And, as always, thanks SO much for stopping by. I do appreciate the support. Oh, and if you do check out the latest reviews for Stare Me Down? I’m guessing the vegetarian comment from one reviewer was probably inspired by the grocery scavenger hunt Aries sends Jaxx on. It was classic. LOL! Poor Jaxx…wait, what am I saying? She gets to…well, never mind about what she gets to do with the items. I’m sure you can figure it out, but if you can’t, that’s another reason to go and comment, right? Maybe you’ll win a copy and you can read all about it. Riley
