Tuesday Tales – Loose – Kat’s Story

by | Nov 17, 2013 | Books, Changing Tracks, Dark Territory, Derailed, Tuesday Tales, Writing

KatThe prompt this week is Loose.

This week I’m sticking with Kat’s story…just a little while after last weeks.  For those that have read my Dominion Falls series, you’ll recognize a couple of characters here.  Cole is my hero in those stories, and in Derailed we learn he and Kat shared a past…but not just yet, Katherine is just 15 in this scene…although as he points out – 15 isn’t so young in 1861…

A sharp whistle pulled Katherine out of her own thoughts, and she tugged the reins on instinct. The moment she realized the culprit behind the whistle was Cole Mitchell, she wished she hadn’t stopped. The man always left her flustered and beside herself. When she’d first started to notice boys, both Cole and her sisters fiancé, David, had captured her imaginings.

Nowadays David was long gone, but in recent months Cole had begun to speak directly to her on regular occasions. It infuriated her mother, and gave Katherine a disturbing, secret little thrill. Rumors of how well-pleased Cole’s women of ill-repute were kept flew fast and easy in a camp like this.

Ashamed that such thoughts should dare to cross her mind, Katherine tried to again reclaim her wits as Cole stopped just near her right foot. “May I assist you in some way, Mr. Mitchell?”

“Fine looking horse ya got there.” Cole’s lip curved into a knowing smirk. “You enjoying your bribe?”

Heat rushed to her cheeks and she narrowed her eyes. “I beg your pardon?”

“Blizzard. She’s a bribe with a hell of a price tag. You did know that, didn’t ya?”

“Blizzard?”

“The horse. That was her name when I was training her. Why, what did ya name her?” He chuckled. “Let me guess. Somethin’ real pretty like Snowy or Princess.”

Her short, angry huffs of breath formed into steam in the cold air and she lifted her chin to hide the way she had to blink back her tears. Rather than tell him what she’d named the horse she spoke through her clenched jaw. “You trained her?”

“Of course. Who else is gonna train a horse in this camp? Especially a wild one like this beast was.” He rubbed the horses flank and nodded. “I knew she was going to you, though, so I kept a little wild in her. I think ya got some wild in you that ain’t been unleashed yet.”

“I think you’re speaking far too inappropriately.”

“Fifteen is the right age. Can’t tell ya how many women find themselves then. Got three girls now that are near-sixteen. Besides, your parents are marrying you off at fifteen. Guess it ain’t so inappropriate after all.”

“I am not a whore, nor will I be.” She drew up straight, trying to process what he’d said. “And my parents aren’t marrying me off so young.”

“It ain’t so young. And yeah, they are.” He shrugged. “What do ya think the horse is for?”

Katherine pondered the quiet conversation she’d witnessed back at the house. The timing of Powder’s arrival didn’t make her a gift for birthday or Christmas. The talk of going to Denver permanently, and the courting she’d been forced to take part in when they did visit.

“So your Pa didn’t tell you yet.” Cole clicked his tongue and shook his head. “Such a shame too. Gonna waste your whole life on a marriage of convenience.”

“What do you know of marriage anyhow?” Katherine tried to put venom into her tone, but instead it trembled dangerously close to tears. “My parents marriage is good.”

“I know more’n you’d think, and your parents eloped. Heard from your Pa himself, they liked each other. You got a guy you like, Kathy?”

“My name is Katherine.”

“I like Kathy. Suits ya better.”

On Katherine’s left a door slammed open. Her sister, Martha, stormed into the street. Her light brown hair had begun to gray already after the stresses of the past two years. It flew out of her bun in unruly strands as she rushed toward Katherine and Cole. “Cole Mitchell, you get on away from her! Katherine Marie Daugherty, what do you think you’re doing speaking to the likes of him?”

“This is all your fault, Martha.” Katherine spat the words before she could think too hard on what she was saying. “And I have always spoken to Mr. Mitchell, it’s polite.”

“Katherine! How is it my fault you’re speaking with a man that keeps loose women. You know he only wants to make you one. I’ve heard him saying it.” Martha narrowed her eyes at the man who only grinned in response.

“I’d bet anything he’s said such things because you can hear them and you are impossible.” Katherine swung out of her saddle and dropped right down onto the frozen street to meet her older sister’s angry stance with one of her own. “All of this is your fault. The horse, the arranged marriage. All because you couldn’t keep your legs together around a damned red man.”

“Katherine!” Martha’s jaw dropped, and Cole’s laughter rang through the street, drawing more attention their way. “You’d best watch your—”

“I will not! You are the cause for my whole life changing.” Tears burned at the back of Katherine’s eyes as the full weight of what Cole had suggested hit her. To be married off to a virtual stranger, to lose even more of the life she loved here in Dominion Falls. “Because of you, everything is changing. Don’t you dare tell me to be silent because it’s all your fault. You left a good man to be a whore to a red man—”

Katherine’s cheek stung seconds before she registered Martha had slapped her. She clasped her hand over the sore cheek and stared at Martha.

“Hey now.” Cole stepped out from under Powder’s neck and positioned himself in front of Katherine. “Don’t go beatin’ your sister for bein’ honest.”

“I’ll have you know,” Martha began. “That she is a child. She shouldn’t be saying such things when she knows nothing about them.”

“She’s no child. Your parents are gonna have her wed before the end of the year if they can, just so she don’t mix with riff raff. And she’s got a point. Wouldna happened if you hadn’t taken up with an Injun.”

“Lewis is emancipated.” Martha all but hissed, her hand twitching like she was going to slap him too. “Practically white.”

“Only with his paint on, Martha. Ain’t no way he’s ever gonna be one of us.”

Katherine backed up, but bumped into Powder. Married by the end of the year? That was barely over two months away. It couldn’t be. She spun and gripped the pommel to lift herself back into the saddle. Before she got far, she was lifted the rest of the way and Cole slapped Powder’s flank over Martha’s protests.

Without time for even a nod of gratitude in Cole’s direction, Katherine leaned over and let Powder race her out of town toward the small settlement of homes starting to sprout up north of town. She didn’t dare go too far for fear of Indians, but she would run until she found somewhere to hole up and think.

She couldn’t get married. Not now. Not in Denver.

She’d barely begun to live.

*~*
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Tuesday Tales – Picture Prompt

by | Nov 10, 2013 | Books, Changing Tracks, Dark Territory, Derailed, Tuesday Tales, Writing

TT-horseThe prompt this week is a choice of pictures and I chose The one right over there<<<.

I’m leaving behind my Valentine’s story, Deep Fried Sweethearts. The story is complete and I’ll be cleaning it up in coming weeks to be sent to my editor.

This week I’m starting with an as yet untitled prequel for one of the characters in my Dominion Falls series.  Katherine Daugherty was a firecracker of a character that entered the scene in book 2 and became my heroines best friend, but her history intrigued a few readers and myself, and so I’m preparing a short prologue told in a 3-or-4 part series of minuets starting with this scene when she is 15.

There was a knock on her door, and Katherine’s father stepped into the room. His thinning red hair shimmered in the sunlight, and the grin he wore was contagious. “Are you ready, Katherine?”

“Of course I am.” Katherine leapt from her bed with an enthusiasm that would have disappointed her mother thoroughly. She knew her father wouldn’t mind, he had been the one teasing her mercilessly for weeks over her surprise. She smoothed out the full width of her skirts and spun. “Am I dressed appropriately?”

“Hmm.” He took her hand and spun her as if they were about to begin a waltz. “You might be a little fancy, but that is the norm for us, is it not?”

“It is anymore.” Katherine agreed. Since her sisters embarrassing turn a pregnancy out of wedlock to an Indian, and their subsequent secret marriage while she was engaged to the delightful Mr. Schaffer; Katherine’s mother had become far more obsessed with asserting their position in Dominion Falls.

The result had been a new wardrobe and frequent trips to Denver which left Katherine utterly bored with society and the proper young gentlemen her mother had been encouraging her to get acquainted with. At fifteen Katherine might be the age to consider proper marriage, but the thought had never appealed to her. Perhaps it was growing up her whole life among miners, but she thought there might be more fun life than being a proper wife.

“I certainly didn’t mean to upset you.” Her father chucked his finger under her chin. “This is supposed to be a surprise, not a funeral.”

“Sorry. So long as my surprise isn’t us moving to Denver, I’m certain I’ll love it.”

For a moment her father’s smile seemed to falter, but the moment was so brief she dismissed it as her overactive imagination. He held out his arm to her. “You will have to close your eyes, but I’ll let you get all the way down the stairs first.”

“The surprise requires me to close my eyes?” She couldn’t stop her excited little hop to grab his arm. “That means it’s definitely a big one. What have you gotten for me, father?”

“Something that has set your mother’s mind that I spoil you too much.”

Katherine giggled at his wink and stepped down the steps with him as if light as a feather. At least her excitement kept her from what her mother described as unladylike stomping down the stairs, heaven forbid she raced as she once had when she was small. “She never complained when I was a child.”

“Life was different then, you know that. This mining camp and our business has grown to such that we can’t be who we were then.”

“I don’t see why not. People liked us then. Now they look at me different.”

At the bottom of the stairs, he paused. A small frown tugged his smile away. “How so? The men aren’t…”

When her father’s voice trailed off, Katherine raised her eyebrows. “The men aren’t what, Father? I just mean they look at me like they do mother. My old friends, the men that used to be real nice all treat me like I think I’m better than them.”

“Oh.” His shoulders sagged and he exhaled a breath so big she wondered if he’d been holding it. “I see. Well, that’s of no consequence at the moment. You just keep being you and they’ll see you haven’t changed, Katherine.”

“Easier said than done. Now what about my surprise?” She hopped up on her toes and bounced. “Can I see it now? Can I?”

“Close your eyes.” Her father’s warm chuckle filled the hallway even as she obliged him and his visage disappeared behind her eyelids. His warm grasp on her arm guided her down the hallway.

“How far are you going to take me? You’re torturing me this way.” Katherine tried to put just enough whine into her voice and puff out her lip just enough to get a clue. All she got in response was more laughter.

“You aren’t being tortured. You’re just impatient. We’re almost there. Hold on. We should stop here for a moment.” When her father stopped her, there was a small bustling of petticoats nearby before a cloak was draped over her shoulders.

“My cloak? My surprise is outside?” The typically cold winter of Dominion Falls had hit as early as it ever did. Snow blanketed most of the town, and all of their yard and the surrounding woods in a beautiful coat of white.

“Very astute of you. Here we go.” The door opened with a blast of cool air and her father guided her outside.

The cold tickled her nose and she willingly leaned against him when he wrapped his arm around her shoulder.  A whinny caught her ears on a blast of wind and without permission she opened her eyes.  Not that it mattered she’d beat him to the punch, she’d been left speechless by what she found.

Off at the far end of the yard a brilliant white horse and clean as the snow shook its head out.  Her father whistled in her ear and the horse whinnied in response before it started to run toward them.

“I’d tell you that you can open your eyes now, but I see you have. What do you think, Katherine? You were complaining about the brown being too old for you.”

“I—I just—oh, she’s beautiful father! Is she really mine?” Katherine burst from her father’s hold to run toward the fence that bordered the paddock. The horse slowed down near by and ambled toward her and the carrot she dug out of the bag her father held out to her. “I thought you said we didn’t need another horse.”

“I did, but I saw this one for sale in Pueblo. She was wild as the day is long, but I thought what would be better for you? I’ve had her fully broken and trained for you, with just a little bit of wild left.”

She grinned when the horse took the carrot from her hand. With a small sigh she rubbed her hand along the velvet nose. “I’ll call her Powder.”

“A fitting name.”

“Thank you.” Katherine spun and clasped her father in the tightest hug she possibly could. “She’s the most beautiful horse ever.”

“You’re welcome.” He squeezed her shoulder when they parted. “Why don’t you take a few minutes to get to know her? You and I can go for a ride after dinner.”

“Okay.” She smiled bright even as she caught sight of her mother on the porch.  When her father moved to join her mother, she turned back to Powder. She fed Powder another carrot and spoke low. “There are no presents without reason, Powder. I just don’t know what you mean.”

She glanced at the porch and the quiet debate going on between her parents. Her mother’s triumphant nod of her head before she headed back inside didn’t ease Katherine’s concern.  Even worse was the painful attempt at a bright smile her father made before he waved and followed her mother.

“I guess hoping you are just because the brown is getting old is too much to ask, isn’t it, Powder?”

The horse nudged her almost off the fence as it tried to get into the bag of carrots.

“You aren’t helpful. Not at all.” Kat chuckled and dug out another horse to feed to the horse. “But you are beautiful. And mine.”

*~*
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Tuesday Tales – Abrupt – Deep Fried Sweethearts

by | Nov 3, 2013 | Books, Holiday, Tuesday Tales, Writing

MikeyThe prompt this week is Sweet.

I’m finally back to Deep Fried Sweethearts, my wonderful little Valentine’s story.

This may be my last foray into Deep Fried Sweethearts…unless you absolutely throttle me for where I leave you.  Michaela has done a terrible wrong by Tag at a time when he needed her most…but her life experience has shattered her trust in her choice in men. After messing up so bad she goes to his place to make an apology and explain, she doesn’t believe he will forgive her, or that she deserves it… 

Michaela chewed on what was left of her thumbnail, staring down the street on her right. She’d been at the stop sign for almost ten minutes. Thankfully the snowfall last night meant the roads were still quiet.

After almost a week of nearly turning down the street, she was still trying to build up the courage to do it.  “Just turn the wheel and go.”

A week ago she’d turned her back on Owen, she’d not given him the benefit of the doubt like he’d asked. Everybody in her life had read her the riot act for it, even Eve, although she’d done so more gently than the rest.

Still, she didn’t know which part of her was the biggest fool.  The one that had turned her back on Owen, even though life experience taught her that her judgment in men couldn’t be trusted; or the part of her that wanted to believe in him more than anything.

“Just turn the wheel,” She whispered. “There’s a good chance he won’t even open the door anyway, so just turn the wheel and go.”

A car horn jolted her out of her inner struggle and she shrieked in surprise. With an apologetic and embarrassed wave out her back window, she turned down Owen’s street. The other car went the other direction, so she was able to drive slowly down the street.  Still she arrived at his duplex all too soon and parked her car across the street.

At this point she didn’t know where to begin, or even what she was feeling or thinking any longer. Ever since his abrupt, and very justified, resignation she’d been at a total loss. When he’d come into The Midway to turn in his keys she’d found herself unable to even speak.

She should’ve said she was sorry. Thrown herself at his feet and begged forgiveness.

But the familiar doubt, the safe wall of seclusion she’d built so long ago, those had crept back in and prevented it.  What if the drugs had been his?

How could she believe that about him?

She’d never thought it was possible with Gary either.

Maybe Owen would hear her out if she started with sorry. First step would be finding her voice, and not locking up like she had when he’d come in to quit.

Before she could quadruple guess herself yet again, she grabbed her keys and got out of the car. She trucked across the street and up the steps despite her nagging doubts and the nosy Mrs. Quinn’s curtains moving aside. With more force than she thought her trembling hands capable of, she pushed the doorbell.

Silence echoed back and she tapped her heels rapidly on the porch. “Please, Owen. Please, answer the door. Please, please, please.”

She chewed on her lip and glared toward Mrs. Quinn’s not-so-subtle peeping face. With a deep frown, she hit the doorbell again.

The door cracked open finally, but it wasn’t Owen on the other side. Myrtle herself fixed a scolding scowl on Michaela. It was enough to stop Michaela’s tapping heels, and lodge the thick lump of fear firmly in her gullet.

“Please.” Michaela cleared her throat when the word squeaked at an embarrassing pitch. She twisted her fingers together and bit her lip. “Can I see him?”

“Look, Missy.” Despite her lack of coat, Myrtle stepped onto the porch and pulled the door shut securely behind her. She urged Michaela toward the railing across from the door. “I know your reasons for what you did, and you got your demons.”

“He needs to know them, and I need to apologize.” Michaela twitched her nose against the tingling rise of renewed tears she’d thought were long dry. “I know.”

“Nobody knows your story but you. I know there’s been a heap of talk around these parts, but talk is just that.” Myrtle frowned. “But if you hurt my boy again…”

“I doubt he’ll even take me back. I just want to tell him…”

“Oh, sugar. You and he, you’re in for a mess of trouble if you keep up with all this denial.” Myrtle sighed, and patted Michaela’s hand. “He’s good and hurt, and he’s got every right to be. But I told him to try to talk to you. Was trying to get him to go today. I can’t guarantee he’ll talk to you, but you can try.”

“Thank you.” Michaela followed Myrtle to the door, and stepped into the warm house right behind the older woman. In the kitchen, Tag rose to his feet and scowled between Myrtle and Michaela.

“Tag, don’t give me that look. I got to get my old body into work and I don’t have any more time for your stubborn head. Now give me a kiss and then at least listen for five minutes.” Myrtle shrugged on her enormous coat and leaned her cheek to Tag.

Tag kept a dark eye on Michaeala, but leaned sideways and placed a half-assed kiss on his aunt’s cheek. As the woman ambled toward the back door and disappeared outside, he remained immobile and silent.

Once again Micheala could swear she felt every single word in her head tumble over each other until they curled into a snarled ball and shot right down into a lead ball in her gut. Doubt over the right course of action started to creep back up.

“Well? You’re down to four minutes.”

His voice startled her right out of her own misery and she met his hard gaze with wide eyes. Her mouth opened and closed impotently for what had to be another minute before she managed to find her voice. “I’m sorry.”

“Thanks. Doesn’t take my night in jail away, or erase my name out of the paper under arrests—”

“I hurt you. I embarrassed you. I can’t ever make it right and I don’t expect you to ever forgive me. I should have said something when you came to the shop, but I didn’t know what to say, or how I felt, I was so confused.”

“That makes two of us.” He turned his back on her and leaned on the counter. His shoulders twitched and he picked at the loose edge of the marbled laminate. “I only ever asked you for one thing—to give me the benefit of the doubt. You couldn’t do that, could you?”

“I told you I couldn’t. I told you I could only try. With my track record, I wasn’t sure what to think. You can’t begin to understand.”

“You wouldn’t even let me try. All that time I thought you were starting to open up, you weren’t. I was lying to myself.”

“No, you weren’t. It’s not your fault.”

“I’m a fool for thinking I could crack that shell.”

“No. You cracked it, but a crack takes time to widen. Time we didn’t have.” She closed her eyes and dropped her head. “Will you let me explain why—why I walked away, why I still struggle to believe you are a good guy even though I know—I know that I should?”

“So you still don’t believe I’m innocent? Then why are you here?”

“Because in my experience good guys just don’t exist!”

*~*
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Tuesday Tales – Sweet – Deep Fried Sweethearts

by | Oct 27, 2013 | Books, Holiday, Tuesday Tales, Writing

tagThe prompt this week is Sweet.

I’m finally back to Deep Fried Sweethearts, my wonderful little Valentine’s story.

Tag (age 21) was hired by Michaela (age 31) as her assistant manager. They both had little crushes on the other, and questioned their sanity working together…but it went really well. After a couple weeks a friendship formed, although Tag almost messed it up with a “crossed the line” flirty comment about being “hot for teacher.” He made his apologies, but didn’t get to say everything he wanted.  After the Hockey Game from some time ago, Tag takes his chance… 

The game had done everything Tag hoped it would, and more. Somehow, for one night, Kayla had relaxed, had fun, and even stooped to teasing him on multiple occasions. He couldn’t remember a thing about the game, his mind filled with images of her.

The sweet curve of her ass when she’d jumped up to cheer on a score, or even better, a fight, had left him unable to stand on a few occasions for all the ideas it gave him. The way her smile lit up her whole face warmed his heart. For once he’d seen the way she was before her world changed. Whatever had changed it was more than just Gary.

Although if all the stories he’d heard about Gary were true, he couldn’t blame her for being broken. Still, something in those gorgeous blue eyes echoed of a deeper pain.

A sharp whistle and the wave of her glove in his face shook him out of his reverie. “Owen, you in there?”

“Yeah, sorry. You were in there forever.”

“I know. It’s obscene. I was about to skip out of line and head into the men’s room. I forgot that’s the one reason I hate going to games. It’s worse now that I’m old enough to drink, and just older in general.”

“You’re not old.”

She snorted and zipped her coat, falling into step beside him on the walk back to his truck. “I’m ten years older than you. Trust me, I’m old.”

“That’s just a number. It doesn’t mean anything. I don’t know anyone that acts their age. Some behave like they’re far younger, some like they’re far older. Uncle Peter was fifteen years younger than Auntie-M. He still died when I was only six.” He shrugged. “Age doesn’t mean anything. It’s how we act that does.”

“I didn’t know you felt so strongly about that.” Her voice was barely a whisper, he’d almost not heard it over the cheers and whistles of the fans returning to their cars.

“Well, I do.” He glanced at her. “You never let me make my confession.”

“Confessions are overrated.”

“Too bad. I want you to hear it.”

“That’s the problem. Confession might be good for your soul. That doesn’t mean it is for mine, or that I want to hear it.” Her shoulders hunched until she couldn’t see her features past the collar of her coat. “The last confession I heard ended my marriage, and pretty much my life at the time. I don’t care for confessions.”

“Hey.” He caught her by the elbow and stopped her increasing pace. Once she’d finally turned to face him, he smiled. “This is nothing like that.”

“Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure.”

“If you’re telling me you’re quitting because I’m such a—”

“What? No.” Tag pulled her closer and caught her other elbow so she had to face him. “I am not about to quit on you. I like my job, and I like you. Probably more than I should.”

“I…What?” Whether she meant to or not, her hands wrapped around his forearms and held tight like she feared falling over.

“It’s terrible, you’re my boss. Kayla, I had a crush on you for years before you ever hired me. Getting to know you, the real you when you let me in. I don’t think it’s a crush any longer.”

“This isn’t nice.” She whispered. Tears glimmered at the edge of her eyes. When she blinked, several shimmered on her long lashes. “Don’t tease me like that.”

“I’m not teasing.” He released one of her elbows to brush aside a tear with his thumb. “That ‘hot for teacher’ line was crass and stupid. It also wasn’t entirely true. Yeah, I’m hot for teacher, but I’m more impressed with who you are.”

“You don’t—you can’t—I…” She took several deep breaths and her eyes fluttered closed. After a moment she let out a choked laugh. “I can’t even form a sentence.”

“You just did.” The breath he’d been holding released when she laughed in reply. “I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have—”

“Eve and I used to call you jail bait.” In a good sign, she still hadn’t released her grip on his arm, and she hadn’t moved away. “I knew it was dangerous hiring you. I just didn’t realize that it was dangerous because of more than your looks. I think you’re a good guy. I honestly didn’t believe those existed.”

“I’m glad you see me that way. Is there a ‘but’ to that statement?”

“Let me count the ways.” She took a deep breath, and started talking fast. “I’m ten years older, I’m seriously messed up, I don’t trust anyone, not even my friends. I’m also not very good at relationships. Never was. Just because I was married means nothing, in fact it might have made me worse. And last, but not least, I am your boss and I can’t get sued for sexual harassment, I have no money.”

“Breathe, Kayla.” He released her other elbow and wrapped his arms fully around her. “First off, I told you age doesn’t matter. Second, I know you don’t trust easy, and I know you’re messed up. Third, no relationship is the same. Lastly, I am not going to sue you. If anything I was harassing you a little bit.”

“So you were flirting with me? All this time?”

“You bet your sweet little ass I was.”

“This could be a really huge mistake, Owen. I don’t know that I can handle any more of those in my life.” Her lips drew together in a small ‘O’ and she blew out a long breath.

“It could be, but how about this? It’s not a relationship. We’ll just take it a day at a time and see where it goes. If it doesn’t work, it doesn’t.”

“I’m really messed up, so much more than you know. You’ve got so much ahead of you, you shouldn’t be thinking about trying anything with someone so jaded.”

“Maybe I like that you’re jaded.”

Her forehead puckered. “Then you’re messed up.”

“So we’ll be messed up together.” He was rewarded with the sweet sound of her laugh. With one finger hooked under her chin, he tilted her head up. “We’ll try. All I ask is if you have a problem, tell me—and give me the benefit of the doubt.”

“I’ll promise to try.”

“I’ll take it for now.” He bent toward her, close enough to hear her sharp intake of breath when he got close to her lips. A smile took over in the instant before he pulled her into a slow, soft kiss.

Her lips were soft and inviting, drawing him after only a moments hesitation. The sweet taste of cotton candy lingered, and he brushed his tongue across the seam of her lips. Her small gasp granted him the chance he wanted and he swept his tongue through her warm mouth.

The cold chill of the evening was replaced with growing warmth as her arms wrapped around him and she relaxed against his body. Her every response to his kiss was tentative, and he tried to keep himself in check, even as each simple brush of her tongue against his drove him crazy with need.

He retreated slowly from the sweet taste of cotton candy and strawberries that was her kiss and pressed his forehead to hers. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.”

“The feeling’s mutual.”

“What else have you wanted to do?” Once again he was rewarded with the deep hues of a blush. “God, you’re gorgeous when you blush.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes you are. Why do you think I try to make it happen so much?”

She bit her lips and shook her head.

“At least now I know I’m not the only one with fantasies.”

 

*~*
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Tuesday Tales – Railing – Leap

by | Oct 20, 2013 | Books, Tuesday Tales, Writing

leap

The prompt this week is Railing.

I pulled out an old favorite. My shorty-short paranormal romance, Leap.

As a refresher, Jayde is a “Player”. A rare and unique psychic that sees the future of each individual person as strings like a violin’s, that she can “play” and change if she wants or needs to.

Magnar is a “Keeper” a sort of magical lawmaker for all creatures, they are protectors and enforcers.  They are usually immune to most magics and unreadable by psychics, empaths, etc…but in the course of the story Jayde and Magnar discovered that they have a unique bond that supercedes the general rule that Keepers and creatures cannot mix.

This short scene is from my epilogue of sorts, and leaves the door open for the possible (probable?) series that might be born out of this.

 

Jayde leaned on the railing, her eyes closed and magic at a minimum. With her powers turned down she could focus on the normal, everyday hum of activity around her. Tourists gasped at the sightof the falls, local grumbled about tourists, the powerful thunder of the water pouring over the edge into the pool below.

They’d spent too much time at Niagara. Afterglow and the realization of their destiny as mates despite their disparate roles in the creature world had kept her and Magnar snug in his private cave beneath the powerful force that was the Canadian falls.

Footsteps passed to the right and left, but her ears picked up one set carrying on a steady beat. The hum of her body was beyond magic as he drew near. She smiled as he pressed his body against hers. “Did you get everything?”

“Your violin is safe, nestled near my guitar at our next destination.” His voice strummed her nerves as his breath brushed her ear. “Just as you are safe near me.”

She curved back against him, to make sure her ass brushed him seductively. “I’m safe until you’re distracted.”

“Even then,” he whispered. “I protect you more fiercely.”

“Where to next?”

“New Orleans.” He wrapped his arm around her waist. “We’ll stay in populated areas until we’re sure of the plan, but even there we’ll have trouble.”

“I’m ready for battle. Always have been. The question is, are you ready to fight what you didn’t know was the enemy?”

“I don’t like that you think it’s a Keeper.” His arm tensed around her waist, the seductive note in his voice hardened into anger. “I hate rules, but even I would never betray the rule that we are here for creatures’ protection. Not their destruction.”

“It only makes sense. They’re masked to me. With the exception of you, all Keepers are but mere shadows to my senses.” She sighed when a shift of the wind brought the cool mist of the falls toward them.

“Can you tell what’s ahead?”

“I know our lives will be in danger.”

His warm chuckle carried through her body. “I could have told you that.”

“We will have moments of joy.”

“I like that.”

“But beyond that. The future is too uncertain. Everything changes, including our future.” She laced her fingers through his.

“As long as you have my back in battle.”

“And you have mine.”

“I’ll take the unknown.”

 

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Tuesday Tales – Picture Prompt Inspires an Ice Age

by | Oct 13, 2013 | Books, Tuesday Tales, Writing

FallSceneTTThe prompt this week is this lovely fall scene picture. Beautiful, isn’t it? Inspiring, romantic, even…yeah…I went a different way.

Unfortunately, as with the last picture prompt, Deep Fried Sweethearts can’t be the story…since that’s a Valentine’s story and there’s no lovely fall scenes there. So, instead I’m bringing a new story.

I’m calling it a sci-fi, but it’s a loose description for now since I’m not fully sure where I’m going with it. This was inspired by some show I saw on NatGeo when my kid was in the hospital and it’s been rolling around in my head since. So, I give you the start of a new story that has yet to be named. The place filler name for now is Ice Age.

 

The beginning of the end came on a beautiful autumn day. I remember clearly. My mother predicted everything that happened before and after. Even if she hadn’t taught me everything before her death during the asteroidal panic, she left me with all of the information on her data discs.

Before the year 2050 all glaciers had melted, leaving the world alarmed as political heads ranted about the predicted greenhouse effect and the loss of species they would later forget about. The loss of the glaciers wasn’t fast and scientists had sworn they could fix it, but they never did, and neither did all of the green-living speeches of the millennial humans.

For the more level-headed scientists, the changes did more than drown Florida, New York City and most coastlines, leaving them to become massive marine playgrounds. It brought about another ecological shift; and right under the panicked politicians noses the new Ice Age began.

Like the melting of the glaciers, the re-appearance happened slow.

In 2119 my grandfather happily began to track the forming of the glaciers, because they meant hope for the rebirth of the earth. While most of the world worried about what a renewed ice age would do to the landscape and billions of humans, scientists once again reassured they could handle it.

After all, glaciers move slow.

Of course they do, until you add in an asteroid tumbling toward earth. An asteroid that the powers that be not-so-wisely decided to blow to smithereens in my eighth year of life.

That was the day my mother took me for one last autumn ride through the rolling hills of Indiana. She told me to take in every aspect, the bright yellows and reds, the smell of crisp autumn air.

“Everything changes tonight,” she predicted.

She was right.

 

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