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- air.    This will be an excerpt f ro m my new WIP for a new romance contemporary, What the Storm Didn't Take. Enjoy!~ Mom’s cookies, Conner’s unwavering loyalty, our friends’ devotion, Garrett’s memorial…that did it. I finally started to cry. Excusing myself quickly for the truck, I needed privacy. The present was a heavy place to be in, the memories- both good and bad were incredibly suffocating. It’s been a year, it doesn’t seem possible. You’ve been gone a year, and I’m carrying this grief around like a fifty pound sack of feed. It’s heavy, so heavy, but, I can’t put it down. I haven’t gotten where I need to be. Why does it f...

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- love.    This will be an excerpt f ro m my new WIP for a new romance contemporary, What the Storm Didn't Take. Enjoy!~ When I was younger, I couldn’t wait to fall in love. Love as I saw in the movies or on TV, you know a devilish, yet compassionate rogue who couldn’t get enough of me. His soft side always glistening in wait just below a steel surface exterior. To most folks he’d appear as a warrior, or maybe a scoundrel biker, gritty, his heart lined with sandpaper. I’d know the truth. That was my husband, the hopeless romantic who made me believe men were kind and compassionate, as well as rugged and protective. He broug...

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- metal.    This will be an excerpt f ro m my new WIP for a new romance contemporary, What the Storm Didn't Take. Enjoy!~ “Did you ever wish your heart was made of metal?” The feeling of cold steel in the center of my chest remained a gloomy reminder of the loneliness and emptiness. Hollow, like the center of an oil drum, my heartbeat even echoed sadness. Thump, thump …pause thump … there, it started again. Maybe my heart would stop. Maybe I should stop thinking that way. Fuck all these maybes. “You mean like the tin man in Oz?” Seriously, did she not remember the tin man had no heart? He was the lucky one. “No, the tin man ...