Tuesday, September 9, 2014


So Thursday/Friday this happened:

After a rousing game of 'how-many-paramedics can fit in my living room' the man was taken to the hospital last night via ambulance. There were various issues. He was admitted and resting fairly comfortably, given his type of cancer, when he sent me home to the kids at midnight. True to form I was a total stone statue during the flurry of chaos and fearsome activity. Also true to form, once admitted and we were sitting in a nice quiet soothing room together I lost my shit. True to *his* form he turned me and said. "What's wrong? Why are you crying?" 0_o Anyway, headed back out to him soon, all good thoughts and wishes much appreciated. 
I apologize for the continued delay on AMST. I think it's time for me to admit that might drift to a stop for a bit now. Now that I've said it, of course, my mind will probably make a liar of me very soon. Which is fine by me.
I seem to be working just fine on shorts right now. Which is good in a way, because it's allowing me to work on my next single author collection that contains all new stories for readers. My brain, my emotions, my soul, if you will, can follow short plot lines and looks at shorter work as a joy and a break. Longer works not so much. I've always been a steady writer. Long work, short work, in between. But my fear is my plotlines might suffer if I just push forward on the longer stuff. I can't track copious amounts of info at the moment. The second ten o'clock hits now I am unconscious. Sitting up, lying down, standing on my head...My body shuts me down fast and hard because my days are up-down-up-down and go-go-go. 
That being said, I'm not tanking AMST. I'm just pressing the pause button. I've done the same on The Accidental book 2 and the horror novel I was writing as myself. All of my focus is on getting The Mighty Quinn out in reprint soon and working on shorts and just...managing.
I know my readers and I know exactly what you're all going to say, but I'm apologizing because I'm sorry to let it go for now. But the story I've started, I think, deserves to be played out as well as I am able. And I don't feel very able at the moment.
Much love,

Tuesday, September 2, 2014

A Many Splintered Thing / Day 39: “And you have no designs on Jasmine?”

Good afternoon, AMST readers, I'm back :) I'm running with this writing frenzy for as long as it lasts. Since Saturday I've written something like 14,000 words. Thousand. Ba Boom!



The doorbell rang when he was halfway down the hall.

“Uh oh!” Dahlia called from behind him. “Think it’s the queen herself?”

He shrugged, but then felt bad. It was one thing if Jasmine fired him, it would mean entirely different things for Dahlia. The thought that he could take her home with him to Maryland skittered through his mind and surprised the hell out of him.

He had a flash of fear but then pushed it away. No sense being a pussy about emotions. They were bound to happen sometime.

“I’ll get it,” he said.

She’d come up close behind him, put a hand on his shoulder. He liked the warmth pressed to him that exuded her energy.

“Are you sure? I can deal with Jas.”

He chuckled. “So can I. Trust me.”

When he whipped the door open, ready to tell her they were getting a late start, the words died on his lips. He was met with the pinched, perpetually unhappy face of Geoffrey P. Winslow. Also known as Jasmine’s daddy. Caleb often wondered how a many that rich could always look that unhappy. It had occurred to him, though, that the unhappiness sprang from being in close contact with Caleb.

“Geoffrey,” he said, giving the man a nod.

“It’s Mr. Winslow,” Geoffrey said.

“Only if I respect you enough to call you that,” Caleb said. “Which I don’t.”

He felt more than saw Dahlia watching him from the kitchen.

Geoffrey turned his steel gray gaze to her and inclined his head. “Good morning, Dahlia.”

She nodded in return. “Mr. Winslow.”

Winslow looked back at Caleb. “See, that’s an appropriate staff response.”

Caleb ignored him. “What can I do for you?”

“You can begin by telling me why you’re here, Caleb. I thought we were well and truly done with you.” He walked past Caleb and leaned against the wall just inside the door. Clearly displaying his dominance, Caleb thought. I’ll walk in without being invited. My daughter so it’s basically my property.

So be it. Caleb couldn’t argue with that. But he didn’t have to kowtow to the man. He walked further into the house and sat on the sofa, crossing his left ankle over his right knee. He tried to look as relaxed an unconcerned as humanly possible. On the inside all he wanted to choke Geoffrey Winslow until his gray eyes bugged out.

Easy man. Keep your cool.

Dahlia still watched warily from the doorway. She’d crossed her arms across her breasts and when she caught his gaze he offered her a smile. “You’ll be late,” he said to her, giving her a window of escape. “You should go.”

“Please don’t let us hold you up from your duties,” Geoffrey said.

Translation: You’re excused.

She stared at Caleb, clearly gauging his mood, and then raised a single eyebrow as if to say: behave yourself.

He nodded in response.

“I’ll just let Alice out before I go. Can you let her back in?” she asked.

“Will do. Thanks.”

She went, clearly not wanting to, but taking his lead.

Another nail in her poor coffin confirming she’s the perfect woman for you, dumb ass.

When she was gone, Geoffrey turned his avian gaze Caleb’s way. He’d always reminded Caleb of a bird of prey. Jasmine would have guessed a hawk. She was a daddy’s girl. Caleb thought more in line with a buzzard.

“Well?” Geoffrey asked.

“Well, I’m sure she told you the whole story.”

“She did. Some internet nonsense it seems. I’d like to hear your end.”

“My end is, I was introduced to Dahlia online by Jasmine. I came out here to meet her in person and your daughter was kind enough to employ me in the process.”

“And Harrison is okay with this?”

Caleb shrugged again. “Ask Harrison.”

“I did.”


“And you know Harrison. He’s basically a very nice, albeit naïve, young man. He’s fine with it.”

“There you go,” Caleb said, giving daddy his best shit-eating grin.

“And you have no designs on Jasmine?”

“None. And that’s the truth,” he said. Happy to feel in his heart that it really was.

“Good. But I’m sure you can understand my issue lies with my daughter. I believe whether you have any interest or not, she has designs on you.”

Caleb sighed. “Geoffrey, I can’t control what Jasmine thinks or feels. Hell, neither can you despite the old college try you give it. She’s going to think and feel and want whatever the hell she likes. You can control certain things with purse strings, Geoff, but not that.”

Geoffrey winced at the “Geoff” and Caleb was glad to see it. Evil, sure, but the man was an ass. He thought a thick billfold and an iron will could take over the world. Sadly, he was right more often than not. Which was why Caleb refused to bow to the king.

“I want you to leave.”

“Then have Harrison fire me.”

“He won’t. I suggested it.”

Score one for Harrison.

“Bummer for you. But I’m not leaving. I have a good thing here with Dahlia and I intend to play it out to the end.”

Again he realized he’d uttered the absolute truth.

His heart did a weird, warm twisting thing in his chest when he mentioned Dahlia. It was an emotion he couldn’t quite get a handle on and it unnerved him. But there was no time to be unnerved now. Not in front of Geoffrey the great.

“I’d be willing to offer you an incentive to leave,” Geoffrey said, finally. He was at a loss, Caleb could tell. He couldn’t fire Caleb because Caleb wasn’t his employee and his ever-faithful lapdog Harrison wasn’t buying into it.


Geoffrey’s eyes narrowed. No was not a word he understood. Usually, he didn’t have to.

“I could make it worth your while.”

Caleb shook his head and stood. He brushed imaginary lint off his pants and said, “No thanks, Geoffrey. I’m good. I’m happy. I’m gainfully employed. I do swear to you, man to man, that I have no…designs, to use your words, on Jasmine. I promise. I’m a hundred and ten percent wrapped up in that lovely woman you scared off. She’s why I’m here. And she’s why I’m staying.”

He stuck his hands in the pockets of his jeans when he said it because Caleb realized, as he gave his spiel about Dahlia, that his hands had begun to shake. Not from being in the presence of Geoffrey, but from how much he meant the words he spoke.

Are you falling for her?

He only had time to briefly recognize the thought because Geoffrey was talking and what he was saying wasn’t pleasant in the least.

“You can promise whatever you like, but I promise you, Caleb, that I’ll get my way eventually. I’ll find a way to get rid of you and you’d wish you’d taken the money and run.”

Caleb gritted his teeth. Every nerve ending in his body screamed to deliver a hearty right hook to daddy’s face. Instead he simply stood there, waiting but not backing down. Finally, when Geoffrey didn’t speak again he said, “Well, I guess I’ll be going to work then. They don’t pay me the big bucks to stand around here and chat. In fact, despite the money they have, they don’t pay me the big bucks at all. Gee, I wonder where that influence came from.”

He walked past Jasmine’s father and into the kitchen. Then he let Alice in and locked the door. When he turned to leave via the front door it was standing wide open and Geoffrey Winslow was gone.

Hopefully for good.

photo credit: Kuzeytac via photopin cc

Sunday, August 31, 2014

A Many Splintered Thing / Day 38: “She had you stock all this stuff?”

I've been on quite the writing binge the last few days. Over 3,500 Saturday, about the same today. I must say it feels good. Really good. Probably not as good as what's happening to Dahlia right now but...pretty damn good ;)



Caleb studied the arch of her brow and the half smile on her full lips. Lying there, utterly nude, it made him want her all over again. As surprising as it was, his cock made an effort to stir to life already.

“Okaaaaay,” he said, playing along. He rolled to his side to open the drawer.

Dahlia murmured, “I’d say you have some explaining to do but I’m a smart girl and I wouldn’t want to hear the gory details anyway. But knowing Jas, I must say, I’m a little shocked. Who knew? Well, besides you…” She laughed.

He wondered what the hell she was talking about but when he opened the drawer he understood. Not just condoms. And there was a large box of them. Nope. The drawer also had fur lined handcuffs, a paddle with the legend SLUT emblazoned across its leather face, a small leather whip, a leather belt coiled like the world’s chicest snake, a butt plug, a vibrator and lube. Lots and lots and lots of lube.

He chuckled.

“Oh, that’s not it, studly. Check in the hope chest at the foot of the bed.”

He moved past her and she gave his flank a fleeting stroke with her fingernails. There went his cock again. Determined it would be buried inside her just once more before they started their day for real.
Inside the chest were a length of rope—the old fashioned chafing kind, no fancy brightly colored nylon for Jas—and a crop. When he pushed the rope aside he also saw a neatly folded stack of scarves, a blindfold, and a ball-gag.

He sat back and ran a hand through his hair. Dahlia watched him, smirking.

“She had you stock all this stuff?”

“Those were my instructions,” she said, scooping her panties up off the floor by hanging over the bed and stretching her long, lush body out. He felt heat stir in his cock. Damn. He had to stop looking at her.

“And that isn’t…weird?”

She let out a joyous giggle. “Hell, yes, it’s weird! But one does not question the mistress of the house. This was all in a big bag with a very specific note attached. I didn’t keep it but I wish I had. I was instructed to put it all in the big bedroom at the end of the hallway. The one that was saved for our most treasured guests.”

She worked her panties up her body and Caleb felt a moment of what could only be described as grief. To see her covering up that amazing body was heartbreaking. He reached out and tugged them down. They warred for her panties for a moment until she was laughing outright, her eyes shining with amusement.

“So I guess you two were pretty kinky.” It wasn’t a question.

He shrugged. “We could be. It all depended. Trust me, Dahlia, there’s stuff in there we never used before. My guess is she was game to try.”

Her face grew serious. “Upon seeing this arsenal of sex and eroticism, should I be jealous?”

He grabbed her ankle and tugged her toward him. He took his time dragging her across the bed so she had a good long time to study the look he knew was in his eyes. Intent. Lust. Want.

Dahlia swallowed hard and he felt the leap of victory in his chest. She saw it. Just as he’d wanted her to.

“I can honestly say,” he said, running his hand up the inside of her leg. When he hit the flesh of her inner thigh, just above her knee, his dick went to half-mast in an instant. It was the softest thing he’d ever felt, that skin. “That the only thing I want to use on Jasmine is that ball gag.”

Her eyes flashed with jealousy, and yes, he felt a victory in that too. He liked her being jealous because it meant he was more than just a fuck to her. And that was an amazing accomplishment.

“And that’s because I’m always game to shut her up,” he added. He leaned in, cupped the back of her head, and kissed her. When her tongue brushed gently and eagerly against his he remembered the feel of her tongue on his cock and his erection went from semi to full-on. He hummed into her mouth and she licked his tongue once more.

When she broke the kiss she eyed his hard-on and said, “Someone’s happy to see me.”

“We both are,” he said. “Always.”

There was a minor break in his voice and they both took notice. She stroked him and Caleb let his eyes drift shut.

“Tell me something else,” she said, working him with her hand. Her thumb swept over the tip of his cock and electricity bloomed beneath his skin.


“What do you think when you see those things? Those things I stocked in this room on her orders. Things for you to use on her.”

He pushed her back then, covering her body with his. Caleb pushed his legs between hers to spread her thighs wide and felt the blissful kiss of the heat between her legs against his cock.

“I think thank God for Jasmine,” he said.

She went slightly rigid beneath him and he nudged her pussy again. Ready to plunge into her once she fully understood. But first he kissed her long, elegant neck before finding her nipple with his mouth and tugging that tight bud so that she hissed with a mix of pleasure and pain.

“Thank God for her for setting us up so well.” He tugged the other nipple with his teeth before soothing it with his tongue. “Because when I get more time with you, I’m going to show you how I use some of those things.”

She relaxed, sighed against him. Her breath was hot on his neck.

Caleb moved his hips from side to side to part her thighs more and then positioned himself at her wet opening. He looked her in the eye. “And then we’ll figure out the things I’ve never used on a woman before.”

She nodded, biting her lip and that moment of impossibly perfect innocence shattered him. He drove into her, thrusting quick and hard, scooting them as they were, tangled together, across the bed a little. The phone began to ring but he ignored it even as she looked toward the door and said, “Oh!”

He fucked her fast and hard and her body responded perfectly. When he kissed her she sucked his tongue and he hoped to God she was going to come soon because he had very little time left before he lost control.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, engulfing him further in her wet-wet heat and arched up. The kiss carried on, deepened and she cried out softly against his mouth as her pussy spasmed and she came.

Caleb shut his eyes, feeling her lips and teeth and tongue on his shoulder. He let himself go. The orgasm felled him and he felt stunned from it. Drunken.

The phone started to ring again after a brief respite and her eyes flew open. “We have to go!” she said, pushing at him so she could sit up.


“Because the only person who uses the landline is Jasmine. And if we don’t answer, she might head up here.” She laughed wildly. “And things could get ugly.”

“Er,” Caleb said, finding his jeans. “Things could get uglier.”

photo credit: Lotus Carroll via photopin cc

Saturday, August 30, 2014

As you can see...

I've spent more time giving a few more of my books some love. Hey, whatever gets you through the day, right?

ॐ ❤️



Friday, August 29, 2014

A Many Splintered Thing / Day 37: “That you have possibly the most spectacular ass in history.”

Did you know we are creeping up on 50K? Almost at 100 pages? I did not either. But I do like where we are at the moment...

Her body grew heavy from head to toe and then she was lost in those moments—three or four heart beats of time where everything faded away. Then she came back to his lips on her inner thigh. Kissing up, kissing down. Big hands splayed over her belly as if pinning her to the bed.

She tried to sit up and he tsked at her. “No, no, I’m coming to you,” he said and Dahlia dropped back to the bed. She watched him as he unbuckled his belt and got his jeans off. He whipped off his tee and her lust expanded.

His cock was hard against the barrier of cotton until he pulled the boxer briefs off. Then it was just hard and ready and seeing it made her stomach do that swooping falling thing again.

Caleb’s gaze found hers and she said nothing but he heard every word. He followed her line of vision and her focus before climbing on the bed on his knees and moving so he could run his cock along her lips. Dahlia pressed her mouth to him, sought him with her tongue, finally moved her head incrementally and sucked the tip of him into her mouth. When she stilled he slowly and carefully thrust so that he filled her mouth and then her throat.

That brief bird-beating-its-wings instant of panic happened but she breathed through it and shut her eyes. Remembered it was him. Remembered what he represented to her already. Smelled the signature scent of Caleb. It was something like cotton and man and sunshine and honor…

She smiled.

“Why you smiling, Dahlia?” His fingers sifted through her hair and he thrust again, cutting off any words that might try to be born there but only for an instant.

Then he withdrew and she spoke even as she reached out to take him in hand. “Just thinking of the smell of you.”

“Smell of me?” He ran the tip of his cock along her thigh, nudged her so he could run it along the swell of her ass, stroking himself along her and making her smile. It was silly and sexy at the same time.


“I smell?”

“You do.”

Caleb rolled her to her belly and she wondered how late they were for work. Realized she didn’t care. Not a lick. Not right now.


“But you smell good,” she murmured.

“Like what?”

“Like you.”

“Now that that’s cleared up,” he said, voice deep, “raise your hips a little.” She obeyed and he pushed a pillow beneath her. Her breasts were smashed flat to the bed and she had a quick shiver of a thrill pass through her as she realized he was going to take her that way. On her belly, ass pushed in the air.

Caleb dropped a kiss on her shoulder and then between her shoulder blades. He stroked her bottom with his big, warm hands and she found herself pushing her hips up even more, ass high, pressing into his hand with eagerness.

He ran the head of his cock down from her lower back, along her ass crack to her back hole. She had a brief rush of expectation when he pressed gently but then he tsked at her again and said “Soon”.

Caleb slid lower and pushed until he was half-way in her. He paused and Dahlia felt her entire body as it seemed to exhale with anticipation. Her clit thumped along with the thunder in her heart. Then he drove into her forcefully, holding her hips in his big hands. She felt tethered to earth but floating free in the wilds of darkest space.

It was the most arresting feeling she could recall.

“Can I just tell you,” he said, voice low, hands gripping tight. “That you have possibly the most spectacular ass in history.”

Another time, another man, she might have laughed at that. But not now. Not him. She sighed and pushed back to show him how badly she wanted him in her. He took the hint and thrust deep to fill her.

He fucked her that way until a tear or two slipped free of her eyes. Then he ran his fingertips along the ladder of her spine and said, “Put your hands up, Dahlia.”

She put her hands up, one on either side of her face as it pressed down into the pillow. She pushed her palms against the resistance of the mattress and kept them that way as if under arrest.

Caleb angled his body and wrapped his hands around her wrists, pinning her there. She was powerless to move, she was helpless to change her position as he continued to drive in and out of her, his cock nudging every tender, swollen place inside her. Her clitoris seemed to hum with energy, begging to be touched but denied the pleasure of contact.

Every thrust stimulated her G-spot from a different angle than she was accustomed to. The pleasure building in her was thick and syrupy. Heavy. It seemed to coax all the energy from her muscles and settle leadenly in her bones.

“Your back’s not too shabby either,” he grunted.

She found herself blushing as he spoke.

“I love a gorgeous back, and you, Dahlia, have an amazing back. A work of art. You only see backs like this one in paintings.” His big body was spread out over hers and he dropped a kiss right between the very tops of her shoulder blades.

She shivered.

Then his mouth settled on her shoulder, his hot breath rushing across her nape as he fucked her. His teeth skated along her skin and then took hold, clamping down on a bit of flesh as if he were marking her.

“Oh—“It flew off her lips before she was aware of it even as a passing thought.

He grunted and drove deeper. His fingers around her wrists grew tighter and she knew he was going to come. She thought she wouldn’t. No way. But she was still boneless from two orgasms and that was just fine by her.

At the last moment he released her right hand and said, “Come with me.” To get her in motion he took her hand and moved it lower along the bed to indicate he wanted her to touch herself. She obeyed, pushing her hand between her body and the pillow, finding the needy knot of her clitoris and rubbing even as she thrust back and up to take him. He still pinned her fairly flat, his left hand covering her left wrist. But she could move and as he pushed his face into her hair and whispered, “What the hell am I going to do with you, woman?” she came.

Caleb thrust once, twice and then a third time before going rigid against her and coming with a long, rough sigh.

They were there, frozen in time for a few beats and then he rolled to his side and pulled her along with him. He brushed her hair back and kissed her. She returned the kiss with a generosity she couldn’t remember giving another lover.

“Now tell me,” he said, smiling. “Before we both go get fired for being six years late for work…why this room? Why not yours or mine? Why this one?”

She’d forgotten in the heat of their coupling and now she grinned. It was a Cheshire cat grin. “Open that nightstand drawer,” Dahlia said.

photo credit: kirikiri via photopin cc