Journey Series

Journey Series

Monday, August 29, 2016

Flash Fiction Phrase – Walk Away

Hope all had an amazing week. Mine was busy with free writing. I love weeks where I just sit down and let my imagination soar into another realm of reality. This week’s post sort of comes from that idea, because when I get into the flow of free writing I sort of walk away from everything around me.
Enjoy and remember:
Let your imagination soar when you read.
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Donavan pushed my arms above my head, gripping them both in his massive hand. He nipped my lower lip and whispered, “Leave them there and don’t move.”
Wasn’t quite sure how he expected me to obey him when his thick, bulging cock brush against my equally raving rod. It’d been three long months since he walked away from me to go and tour the world with his band. We’d spoken each morning and night, even skyped a couple of times, but there was nothing like feeling his firm body pressed against mine as he slid up and down my body.
“Um . . .” Donavan licked a path from my right nipple to the left. “Taste like heaven.”
Felt like heaven. There were loads I wanted to say to him, but all that came out were deep throat, scratchy moans of pure unadulterated pleasure.
“My man’s missed my touch.”
More than his touch. His kisses. Him leaving toothpaste on the sink. Leaving his dirty clothes laying in the bathroom floor. His muddy shoes staining my white hallway carpet. Plan out missed every little thing about him, right from his nerve wracking habits to his wonderful, lustful ones he delivered when we were alone on the farm.
“That’s it, baby. Show me how happy you are for me to be home.”
My hand slipped around our cocks as his slid up mine. One firm grip and Donavan was singing his own sweet music. God, I’d missed hearing his pleasure fill our little love room.
“Never . . .” I slammed my lips over Donavan’s and forced my tongue down his throat, tasting every corner before I pulled back from the kiss. “Walk away from me again.” I knew my request was useless, but . . . Worth a shot. I wasn’t sure how many more times I could survive having to run the farm by myself while my man was off running from country to country singing for a crowd of rowdy females who had no qualms about flashing him their breast. As if he cared to see them. Donavan had never in his life been interested in a woman. Donavan told him the first time they’d met that he’d came out of his mom’s womb hunting for a nice man to fuck into the mattress.
“Ready to finish our welcome home Donavan Dance?”

Boy was I. “Take me all the way to the moon and back. Make me shout and scream for my man.”

Wednesday, August 24, 2016

Human-Skinned Wolf Recipe


The other day I received an email from a follower of the Human-Skinned Wolves series, asking for the formula/recipe/concoction that Adam Williams, the creator of the Human-Skinned Wolves, used to heal his seven sons.
I didn't like the idea of just writing it down, so I made a short video. Hope you all enjoy it.

Have a wonderful day.
Let your imagination soar when you read.

Monday, August 15, 2016

Flash Fiction Scene – Stop The Anger

Hope all had an amazing week. This week’s scene is short and sweet. Sorry, pressed for time today and I hope you enjoy it.
Remember: Let your imagination soar when you read.
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Can’t be happening. What has my world turned into? Total chaos? Devastation? Pain? Horrible dreams? Is it pure over reacting? Maybe. No. It is only fair for people, medical people especially, to talk to their patients before referrals are made. It is not fair for them to allow their patient to receive a call, unexpected and out of the blue, from a complete stranger about a program unknown to them. It is wrong. Unprofessional. Lord, have mercy, my life has turned upside down all because of one simple little phone call. How hard would it have been for the lady to pick up a phone and alert me that I would be receiving a call.
“What is wrong?” Kelly leaned against the door-jam.
“Nothing.” I snapped.
“Yeah, your nose just grew ten feet.”
“Did not.” I looked down to make sure.
“Then why are you sitting there rocking, like you always do when you are over stressing. I’ve not seen you do that since your final exam in Statics.”
Kelly was right. I had found my calm mojo over the last five years and this one incident was sending me into another realm of . . . What? Insanity? Yep. That’s what it was.
“Going to clue me in?”

Nope. Didn’t need Kelly telling me all the things I done told myself over the last two days. Simply, need to stop the anger and move forward. Do what I can and live my life.

Monday, August 8, 2016

Flash Fiction Phrase – Move It

Hope all had an amazing week. Mine has been super busy, but I’m still working hard on creating more stories for you guys. This week’s flash fiction post is geared more towards a serious and intense scene. Enjoy and remember, Let your imagination soar when you read.
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Move it? Was this asshole serious? How did he expect anyone of us to move when his ten men in arms trained an assault rifles on each of the tellers? Robbers were stupid.
“Are you guys deaf?”
“No.” I spoke up, not caring what happened to me. I had no family to worry over, unlike George whose wife was expecting a set of triplets. Or Susie, who had a little four-year-old son to raise on her own. There were seven other of her co-workers all with similar stories. Not me, though. I was single. Had no children. Had no boyfriend or friends to consider. Both parents were resting safely in heaven. I was a bonafied loner, who only left the house to come to work and pick up groceries. Nope no one cared if some idiot thief shot me down in cold blood. Plus, it was my job. Sometimes being over everyone could really suck. “Listen,” I remained still and kept my voice calm, while withholding my authoritative tone I pulled on all my employees. “I can give you whatever you want, but I need you to let the others go.”
“Who are you?”
“My name is Miss Tanner. I’m the Branch Manager.”
“Good.” The guy came up to me and jabbed his gun towards the door leading back to the safe deposit boxes. “Let me in there and the rest can go about their daily lives outside the establishment.”
“Let them leave then I’ll take you in.”

He motioned to the guys behind him, who stepped to the side, letting my coworkers pass them. Tonya’s shoes squeaked, like always when she walked across the rich brown wood floor. When they faded out, I tugged the keys free and headed toward the safe deposit boxes.

Monday, August 1, 2016

Flash Fiction Word - SPARK

Hope all had a great week. Mine’s been busy editing Book 4 of the Human-Skinned Wolves Series. I’m also doing some free writing in between as well. Hard at work, but doing these flash fiction scenes give me a small break. Plus, ignites my creativity.
Have a great week and remember:
Let your imagination soar when you read.
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* * *
Was that? Yep. A spark. Oh my God. How? Why? Couldn’t be. What was he supposed to do? Did the short, red haired, muscle the size of He-man notice? Hope not. No time for another male. Can’t keep up with the spitfire eight-year-old brother that was his to raise. Mother of all, why had his mother abandoned her youngest son? Why had she waited twelve years to have a second child for her to ruin?
“You okay?”
Shit. Not good.
“Let’s get you sat down.” The red haired man took hold of his arm, tugging him over to the metal bench under a Weeping Willow. He loved the way their branches surrounded him in a cocoon of warmth. Many of nights he spent burying his nose in a book under the one in the backyard while his mother and step-father shouted at one another until they passed out or puked all the beer they drunk during the day.
“Take a sip. Please.” Rough knuckles brushed his cheek. “Please.”
His mouth parted as plastic pressed against his lips. Cool water slid over his tongue and trickled down his throat.
“That’s it.” Deep sexy voice sent chills over his spine. “What’s your name?”
Taking a second sip gave him time to decide if it was wise to answer the question or not. If he did . . . The red haired man might think he was fair game. What kept him from doing so in the first place? Clearly, he’d saw the bright yellow spark flowing between them. The one true sign his kind was cursed with when they ran across their soul mate.
“Mine’s Timothy Green.”
Course, hardworking skin, fingers brushed a drop of water from his lips. Could he deny the man? No. Raptors, a dying out race of pre-histroical creatures, were dying out. Didn’t matter what sex you were. Each Raptor was born with the inate desire to reproduce once they ran across the one who owned their other half. Either could, and most of the time did, bare children. At least one. His mother, one of the rare female of his race, bore two. One on purpose. Him. He was to ease the urge in her. She never wanted children. Didn’t deserve them. She couldn’t take care of herself. Robert had been an accident. There was no way he could . . . No. Children wasn’t in his future. He had to think about his brother. Robert deserved a better life than he had. He could give him that much.
“You are shocked.” A hand ran across his head, knocking his hair off his forehead. “Understandable. Not everyday you run across your destined one.” The guy sat back, kicking his leg out. “We’ll take things as slow as you want.”
Great, did that mean he would leave him be for the rest of his life? He hoped so.
“Would help me if I knew your name.”
Was telling him such a bad thing? Timothy deserved to know who was going to leave him broken hearted, didn’t he? “Caleb.”
“Nice to meet you.”

Caleb’s phone beeped, reminding him he had to get to Robert’ school. “Got to go.” He stood and darted down the sideways, leaving behind him a gaping Timothy.