“It was my first time,” Violet confessed defensively over as she and Ashley took their seats in the corner booth of their favorite diner. There was something in her tone that screamed “cover-up” even as the words rolled off of her tongue.
“I have never slept with a guy the night I met him before last week,” Violet whispered. Her cheeks turned a mixture of green and pink, and she stuttered as if she were searching for the words.
Ashley listened intently biting her bottom lip to force the words back down her throat. She loved Violet but hated that someone so smart could make such stupid decisions all the time when it came to men. It was nearly impossible to count the number of occasions Violet cried on Ashley’s shoulder because yet another true love had broken her heart. It was the one thing that Ashley could rely on, and even worse, it was the one thing Violet had perfected. So, she listened and comforted her friend’s embarrassment in the only way I knew.
“Another round of martinis, please,” Ashley bellowed to the waitress.
For a second Violet stared at Ashley suspecting that her friend was on to her. Maybe it was the polite way Ashley muttered her usual “it’ll be ok.” Or maybe it was because Violet knew that the lie was too transparent for anyone to believe. She started to retract her previous statement, but when she heard Ashley order another round of drinks, she figured it wasn’t necessary and stopped. Continue reading “Alarmed”
I’m working to finish this novel, but I’m struggling. I had hoped that by setting a self-publishing date and a “must be done” by date, I would kick the self-editing habit, but I seem to be stuck with it forever.
I started with an excellent idea. I mapped it out, wrote notes, and organized all the information that I needed to begin writing. And then I did. I started writing my novel out by hand, and all went well. I was writing for an hour or two at a time, and I thought I was in a groove.
But then I stopped to type it up. A friend offered to give it a read and rather than giving her my hand-written pages, I wanted to provide her with a typed manuscript for ease. I also wanted to ensure that I had an easy way for her to write notes without marking up the pages and making them even more confusing. She gave me great feedback too, and her feedback allowed me to flesh out the story even more. Continue reading “The Self-Editing Curse”
Victor wasn’t sure what to think when he opened his eyes and saw The Guardian staring back at him. For a second, he thought his brothers were playing some cruel joke. They loved to make him uncomfortable and being watched while he slept was a sure-fire way to do so. In fact, he was sure that they were playing a joke on him because no one was foolish enough to sneak up on a sleeping Alpha when his pack was nearby.
“Victornio Watts. Wake up right now. You’ve got to get going. They’ll be here soon.” Sage was whispering but the urgency in her voice was unsettling. He felt it in his stomach but could not shake off the sleep.
“Victornio. I saw it. You will die. You all will die. You must leave.” She yanked at his shoulders forcing him to sit upright and open his eyes. Confusion crept across his face and he grimaced as the brightness of the moon pierced his eyes.
“You saw it,” he stammered. “You saw what?” Continue reading “Excerpt from Work in Progress: Shifting Moon”
This is not intended to be an erotic piece. At times my writing is a little more morbid than others. I wrote this during a free-write many years ago and keep coming back to this and tweaking it. There is something about this one that won’t let me walk away from it.
I used to cry. I would find a nice comfortable spot in a secluded space somewhere in the chaos. I would cry a good deep-from-the-inside-cry, letting go of all of the hurt and the pain and the horror of growing up in a family that was as welcoming as a Nazi rally to a Jewish fag. In the bathroom, in the morning while getting ready for school, I would look in the mirror and hate myself because I was different. And I would cry. Continue reading “Untitled 1994”
You’ve mumbled truths in your sleep for weeks, spilling your secrets under the veil of darkness, ignorant of their impact. Your words have sailed through the air and pierced the heat of our bodies long after we’ve collapsed from lovemaking. They have burrowed their certainties into my depth. Still, I continue to live this lie because I love the way your body melds with mine. Because I can taste you long after I’ve had your cum in my mouth and because my body quivers long after you’ve made me explode in yours. Continue reading “Revelations”