Author Davee Jones

Ahoy Fellow Fathomers! It's time for Tuesday Tales. A group of writers gather together and give our interpretation of a specific word prompt each week. Once per month, we even write to an image.  You never know what you might encounter when you get inside our minds. This week our group writes to the word- island.    This will be an excerpt f ro m my new WIP for a new romance contemporary, No Games, Just Love. Enjoy!~ Lola’s first annual Texi-Tropical Mixer appeared successful. No matter how many times the luau theme showcased a party or event, the timeless fun and classic setting promised fun times. We rented a small portion of a lake swim beach for a sandy spot. Volleyball games played out in one corner, limbo took an area, and other assorted games and get-to-know-you exercises kept folks chatting and laughing. Some wore island inspired clothing, tiki masks, hula attire, you name it. We knew an informal gathering could infringe upo...

Ahoy Fellow Fathomers! It's time for Tuesday Tales. A group of writers gather together and give our interpretation of a specific word prompt each week. Once per month, we even write to an image.  You never know what you might encounter when you get inside our minds. This week our group writes to the word- town.    This will be an excerpt f ro m my new WIP for a new romance contemporary, No Games, Just Love. Enjoy!~ “You truly inherited my way of taking care of business.” Heavy weights once again left my shoulders. Truth telling was indeed cathartic. “So, when he found out, we had a severe falling out. Over time, he contacted me again and we eventually met for drinks. I was following him to his house when I wrecked. I believe it was a sign.” “A sign you weren’t supposed to be at his house?” “Yes, he lives out of town, moved partially to get away from me. I think the universe wants us to stay apart.” “What about true charac...

Ahoy Fellow Fathomers! It's time for Tuesday Tales. A group of writers gather together and give our interpretation of a specific word prompt each week. Once per month, we even write to an image.  You never know what you might encounter when you get inside our minds. This week our group writes to the word- ghost.    This will be an excerpt f ro m my new WIP for a new romance contemporary, No Games, Just Love. Enjoy!~ I suppose I never hated Lola, I hated her actions. Hate- such a violent word, final, definitive- offering no hope, probably more depressing than any other emotional concept. Hate meant your heart down to your toes had room for nothing else, and it consumed a person. If I had no hate, then, my heart never stopped loving Lola, my soul was only hibernating away from the agony. Healing removed the reasons I shouldn’t love Lola, and I didn’t know what to do about it. Impulsively, I ran in Forrest Gump splendor, skirting past d...