Tuesday, May 19, 2015

Tuesday Tales....You're a Good Egg...and BACON

Ahoy Fellow Fathomers! This week our group writes to a delicious picture. Picture Prompts receive 300 words...so, here we go from Steal My Heart, book 4 WIP from The Fantasy League series.


“I’ve had so many smoothies and granola this month, I’m going back to my roots.”
“It’s okay to cheat every once in a while.” Lesley giggled, taking a bite of French toast. “Goodness knows I do it.”
Staring at a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast, the scent wafted to my nostrils, reminding me of growing up. “My mom used to cook this all the time. We had fresh eggs almost every day.”
Putting her fork down, she made eye contact with me. “Do you miss living in the country?”
“I miss the anonymity and the protection that comes from living in a small town. Although everyone does know each other’s business way more than they should, they also take care of each other.” I hoped she didn’t catch on I was still worried about that stupid stalker email. I was a grown man for Pete’s sake.
“I miss the safety of growing up, having my family around. My brothers wouldn’t let anyone mess with me.” She smiled, then took a long drink of milk. “Now, my muscles are so massive, I can take care of myself.”
“You’re an impressive physical specimen of a female, for sure.” Although I intended that remark to be innocent, I couldn’t deny an undertone of longing in my words. Lesley was beautiful, full of energy and talent. I was on the edge of a helpless situation.
“You’re a rather handsome man yourself, Eugene Carlton.”
I soaked up Lesley’s adoration like a dried out ocean sponge, soothing waters filling me with confidence and happiness. “I appreciate you my friend.”
“What would you say if I asked you out on an honest to goodness date?”
She absolutely knew exactly what I’d say.

How could I miss our dark complexioned admirer hanging on every word we shared?




Please visit us at our main site for more interpretations of this delicious picture!Tuesday Tales Main Page

Tuesday, May 12, 2015

Tuesday Tales, Only Twenty....

Ahoy Fellow Fathomers! This week our group writes to the word prompt, "twenty".   From Steal My Heart, book 4 WIP from The Fantasy League series.

 
"If you come one more step, I'll rip you into twenty pieces."
"Aww, the pretty little girl is tough and sexy. It's my lucky day. Where's your man? Surely, he didn't leave you out here all alone. Or, maybe he's somebody you picked up here at the park?"
"Look asshole, he isn't some stranger, he's my boyfriend." My brain clicked along, thinking of what I'd passed on my way here. Who was out there standing by, what my next move would be? I wrapped my purse strap tighter within my fist.
"I think you and I should get to know each other better. He stepped forward, narrowing the distance between us. Maybe you'll give me some of what you gave him. I like getting all up into someone else's stain."
"God, you're disgusting!" Jumping to one side, I tried to dodge the lunging sociopath coming for me. He grabbed my leg mid-stride. I landed on the ground, close to the bottom of the dumpster. Why the hell didn't people clean up after themselves- trash littered everywhere. My brain tried to take me out of the present, choosing any other thought than this sicko attacking me. I kicked hard with both feet, as if slogging through mud, not aiming for anything but hoping I connected with something vitally painful.
"Don't fight it sweetheart, you're gonna make me feel so good."
"Get off me you piece of shit, leave me alone!"
"That's no way to talk to a fan now is it? He shoved an elbow into my ribcage applying pressure.
The pain of his bony arm in my guts paled to his breath whooshing into my face. I'd thought I'd puke from the raunchy odor. "Get off me, I won't say it again!"
"Good, I don't want to hear it again. Prying my legs open with one knee, he used his other hand to restrain my wrist above my head. How convenient you wear this little skirt and nothing else."
"You wretched son of a..."   Words gurgled from the fear in my throat.



Please visit us at our main site for more interpretations of "twenty".

Tuesday, April 28, 2015

The Keymaster and the Gatekeeper...Tuesday Tales

Ahoy Fellow Fathomers! This week our group writes to the word prompt, "key". Would Marty ever change his mind?  From Steal My Heart, book 4 WIP from The Fantasy League series.

Pulling her keys from the purse, she walked toward the exit door. I joined her stride for stride. Until she was safely tucked in her car, I couldn’t leave her. I pushed open the heavy door, revealing a beautiful evening, complete with stars, a quarter moon, and the scent of lime essence she used in her hair. Too many memories returned full blast.
“Lola…”
“Yes, Marty?”
“Can we, maybe possibly talk a little? I want to clear a few things between us.”
She opened her mouth, then closed it again, jingling her keys rapidly. I watched the wrinkles on her forehead deepen, which only happened during intense moments of deduction. I wanted to read her mind, probably the most popular super power available in supernatural circles. I wasn’t quite ready to sell my soul for the gift, however. “I don’t want to argue. I’m tired, so very tired.”
Reflexively, my hand reached for hers, loosely covering, protecting, offering an invisible olive branch. “I’m done fighting.”
Skin to skin once again created a robust torpedo, rocketing through my insides. Honestly, I wasn’t looking for anything but a truce. If I had to live with a lifetime of lust for Lola, so be it, I’d manage.  Running away hadn’t solved anything, maybe clearing the misunderstandings between us would. Strangely, her fingers softened their grip, almost welcoming my digit shelter. Our fingers together sprang forth a Sunday school rhyme, signaling the loss of my reasonable thought processes.
Here is the church, here is the steeple, open it up, and here’s all the people. For me it changed to- Here is your safety, here we are friends, open us up, and here no one pretends.
“Truce, I’m offering a truce. Life’s too long to stay enemies.”
“Enemies? You thought of me as an enemy?” Lola’s shoulders drooped, the left one a bit more than the right. Remembering her from the diner, I wanted her more confident. She wouldn’t move on to better things, a better mood, better decisions unless she stood up for herself.
“It’s the first word I thought of, not necessarily what I thought of you.”
Changing tracks quickly, her shoulders squared, she made eye contact. “I’d like to talk, very much so.”
“Nice, how about you follow me? We can go to this nice quiet jazz spot, have some beignets with cafĂ© au lait.” I don't hide the key to my heart, it dangled precariously, waiting to be stolen. I didn’t want to remain in Lola’s trap, I wanted free of her…maybe. If I had no choice, would I finally give in?
A hesitant upturn of the lips, those beautiful soft lips, precluded a slow nod of her head in agreement. “Your place sounds so much better than any popular coffee chain.”
“I know how to pick ‘em.”
Sliding into my car, panic replaced warmth. What the fuck was I doing? If I wasn’t careful, the entire floodgates of my love for her would drown my sense of reason, pushing me into a twisted place of suffocating discomfort. For so many damn months, I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, every moment a tortured reminder. Was I putting myself back in the path of her destruction?
Turning the key, calm replaced chaos. I only wanted to cut away all the hate, the misunderstanding, the anger. I knew full well what I was doing. I would be in control. Two-Face Harvey Dent had nothing on me at that moment. Two such different sides of me jockeying for position.  Facing Lola was like going into a fist fight, I had to plan my strategy carefully so I didn’t lose my footing.
Kapow!




 Please visit us at our main site for more interpretations of "key".

Friday, April 24, 2015

Fusion Friday! back to 1985

welcome to Fusion Friday...approaching 45 and feeling reminiscent of music past...so, each Friday I'll post a retro tune to share my love of days of music past...Listen Via You Tube

First song is a silly one...remember David Lee Roth? Of course we do!!!  Van Halen was the best, then, the split that caused heartbreak...sigh. David Lee Roth official


Just A Gigolo Lyrics

"Just A Gigolo" was written by Caesar, Irving/brammer, Julius/casucci, Leonello.
I'm just a gigolo and everywhere I go
People know the part, I'm playin'
Paid for every dance, sellin' each romance
Ooh, what they're sayin'
There will come a day, and youth will pass away
What'll they say about me?
When the end comes I know they'll say just a gigolo
And life goes on without me
I'm just a gigolo and everywhere I go
People know the part, I'm playin'
Paid for every dance, sellin' each romance
Ooh, what they're sayin'
There will come a day and youth will pass away
What'll they say about me?
When the end comes I know they'll say just a gigolo
Life goes on without me, 'cause
I ain't got nobody, nobody cares for me
Nobody, nobody cares for me
I'm so sad and lonely
Sad and lonely, sad and lonely
Won't some sweet mama
Come and take a chance with me
'Cause I ain't so bad, you know baby it
So lonesome all of the time
Even on the beat, only only on the beat
Bozdee bozdee bop didy bop
I ain't got nobody
Nobody cares for me
Nobody nobody
Lonesome baby, lonesome all of the time
Even on the beat, Johnny, Johnny on the beat
Get low so, daddy, mama
Sonny said, he's got nobody no, ooh no
Say now
Nobody, nobody
Nobody, nobody
Nobody, nobody
Nobody, nobody
Nobody, nobody
Nobody cares for me
Songwriters
CAESAR, IRVING/BRAMMER, JULIUS/CASUCCI, LEONELLO
Published by
Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group


Read more: David Lee Roth - Just A Gigolo Lyrics | MetroLyrics

Wednesday, April 22, 2015

Lacy Underwear isn't ALWAYS a Good Idea --SAID WHAT???

Hello everyone! Today in The Locker, I want to talk a little bit about what touches our skin. Specifically, what touches my skin. My autoimmune diseases have affected my nerves, which in turn can aggravate my skin. Once again, I dove into research.
From Healthline.Com
"Rheumatoid patients can develop skin disorders. According to the University of Iowa Hospitals & Clinics (UIHC), this happens because rheumatoid conditions like RA are autoimmune diseases.
UIHCnotes that the same kind of immune system problems that cause joint inflammation, swelling, and pain can also affect your skin. When this happens, RA patients may develop lesions or rashes on the skin, reflecting immunological dysfunctions."

I've noticed the usual sunspots, age spots, freckles, etc that have slowly increased over time. With my fair complexion, I should've heeded the warnings about sunscreen. So, now, I'm gonna preach the benefits of sunscreen and shade. You don't want skin cancer or ugly skin spots from seeking the sun glow. Word.


This picture IS my leg, after contact with just warm water
The rash is something different though. I remember getting hives when I was a kid, the pediatrician told my mother I had a histamine imbalance, which led to pressure hives. So, any prolonged contact with my skin could cause a hive reaction. How fun. I wish he'd had more knowledge of autoimmune diseases, maybe he could have uncovered the truth about what was really going on in my blood stream.

But, anyway, yeah, been there done that sometimes looks like an army of mosquitos took aim to my skin- leading to my statement about lacy underwear. The prolonged contact from the cute lacy material sometimes causes hives on my ass. Not the spot you really want hives. Aside from wanting to dig a hole through to my yoo-hoo from itching, the pressure hives don't go away easily. And, creams like hydrocortisone, steroids, etc? Forget it. Those really don't work.
Sometimes shoes cause hives on my feet. this is a picture of a good day
Here's the other frustrating part...I don't know what will set the hives off! I can choose to wear lace one day and have zero problems. But, choose the day when I really want to be sexy for the show, and guess what? It ain't sexy having hives on your butt cheeks. Turn down the lighting please.

I also love watching sports my kids play. Take me out to the ballgame any day. But, dammit, if those are the metal benches with the grooves running over them- absolutely not. Give me a blanket please, my tushie is sensitive.

I've went on and on about my ass, but, these hives can occur other places too. For example, the tops of my feet. If a pair of shoes are too tight across the top, the hives form where the straps or material connects with my skin. I could also go on and on about tight waist bands, tight elastic leg bands, bra straps, and another horrible spot---the back of my neck. I can't wear a swimsuit that ties around my neck. sigh.

The scary part of the research, and one reason the internet is a bane to health care professionals, is the wealth of doomsday prognosis prevalent. For example, just today, I'm reading rashes associated with RA indicate a more serious involvement, possibly the other organs. Well crap...another question for my doctor.


Not me,but an example of what my hives look like sometimes
I feel like the Princess and the Pea sometimes, and don't want to chronically complain about everything. However, I'm wearing lacy underwear today, so, anytime could be a trigger. Pray I can make it through the day without requiring fingernails. Thank you.


Friday, April 17, 2015

Fantasy League - First Book FREE Promotion! Limited time...

I'm 1/3 into finishing book 4, want to know how it ends? You also need the read the beginning. It's my favorite series yet, priced at only .99 installment. also available on itunes, Barnes & Noble, and Amazon...i'm everywhere.

Smashwords
Books 2 and 3 are there for only .99 each, you can also download segments for free!






I challenge you to write a 1000-5000 word depiction of your favorite dating experience. This could be real or imagined, no one will ever know unless you tell us. Please paste in comments below or email to me finlessbook@gmail.com   The winners will receive prizes and their depiction published in my series!

Buy Now .99
You will now get a closer look at Personal Fouls:

“How am I supposed to walk away when you won’t even let me try, let us try? No sane person on earth gives up before the game’s even played.”
“A game is right, Marty. Everything I do is a contest, nothing meaningful. As much as I honestly put in, nothing good ever happens. I’m a destroyer, intent on hurting myself.”
“Bullshit! What a pathetic excuse to stay a player. Would you recognize extraordinary if faced with it? Because I recognize it every single time I see you.”
“Do you really want this?” Lola squared off like a gunfighter in the Old West.
“Absolutely. You’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. When I see you, I live in the moment. I don’t care about the future, what could or couldn’t happen. I’m more present with you, more engaged, than I’ve ever been before. I couldn’t control my body if I wanted to. Like some dark corridor, I want to know where you lead.” I rushed her, wrapping one arm around her waist and the other gently gripping her neck. I tilted her head, positioning just where I wanted to kiss first. “I want the full Lola experience.”
“You’ll be sorry you want me so badly. You’ll hate me in the end.” Her chest heaved, her breath came in deep bursts. Lola’s neck and chest flushed with red splotches.
I had to take her, bite her neck like the hungry man I was. “Give me the chance to make up my own damn mind.” I leaned down, nibbling her collar bone.
Lola moaned, I didn’t give a fuck what her mouth said, her body told the truth. “Marty…holy shit.” She grabbed my belt loops, crushing me into her hips.
Game on.
Putting off the important first kiss, I wanted the peak of our energy one hundred percent, the moment our lips touched had to be perfect. I dragged the tip of my tongue, following the carotid artery up her neck. The arched vein pulsed, engorged, just like my cock. The oxygen rushed to our brains, fully awakening our deepest desires. The runner’s high wrapped around us both, shooting us into the most exciting atmosphere I’d ever known. “You’re amazing, the most delectable thing I’ve ever touched with my tongue.”