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. This week we share the prompt "flower".  You never know what you might encounter when you get inside our minds.  This will be an excerpt f ro m my brand new yet-to-be-named WIP. Enjoy!~   “I remember your favorite flower.” Connor’s words floated through the air as he bent forward, plucking a tall proud Indian Paint Brush from the ground. When I was a child, I imagined Native Americans actually using these flowers to paint. Those lush red petals spreading some naturally made paint across buffalo hides and peace pipes. As a knowledged adult, I’m sure they couldn’t have used those flowers as a brush, although it’s magic to believe they did. Connor used to pick these for me every late spring. Even at an early age, he was learning h...

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. This week, we write to an image.    This will be an excerpt f ro m my new WIP for a new romance contemporary. Enjoy!~   “Absolutely, my parents have been saving money for years to help me do this. It’s what I’ve wanted since I was a kid. Now, it’s finally happening.” “Won’t your girlfriend miss you?” Where did that come from? Was my mouth so desperate for communication it went rogue? I blame it on the Id, lurking in the corners of my personality, waiting for the opportunity to join the conversation. Tweaking my nose with his finger ever so gently, he actually answered my bold question. “I don’t have a girlfriend, problem solved.”                  ...

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- phone .    This will be an excerpt f ro m Twister Fate, my new WIP for a new romance contemporary. Enjoy!~ “You’re going to be better than fine, you’re going to be amazing.” Conner whispered from above, so soft I’m sure the nurse behind him didn’t hear him. How did he know I was in a panic? “I hope so.” I could only whisper back in faith, because I had no confidence in myself. A slight hesitation at the automatic sliding doors, he momentarily stopped pushing. I swear I heard him inhale sharply, deeply. I imagined his hands gripping the handles, tighter than I held my son, for fear I’d break him. We were both holding on…to what I...

This month is flying by while I do my best to get a glimpse of each day.  It's already time for another installment of TT. This week our group writes to the word prompt, "mug". "I can't get enough of your ugly mug.” I found Finn’s mismatched coffee cup collection irresistibly cute. Clasped between my hands, the heat of morning coffee had nothing on the warmth of my heart. “I don’t think I’ve ever made coffee for a girl before.” “Aww…one of those things you really shouldn’t say out loud though. Not to the girl you just made coffee for.” I had to bust his balls a little, I didn’t know how to play the part of lovey dovey morning after. “We’re both walking in unfamiliar territory. I like being on an equal playing field with you.” Waking up to Finn’s tousled hair in my face beat just about any perfect sunrise I’d ever seen. My awareness of femininity tripled in his naked morning after presence. Feeling beautiful didn’t always come easily wearing my man...

Happy Hot Tuesday and WE ARE BACK for Tuesday Tales? Today, I return to my current WIP, re-titled Split the Uprights for my Fantasy Leagues series. This week we write to the word prompt "ribbon".   It's exciting because I'm so close to the end of writing this first book. Which means, it will retire from soon from Tuesday Tales. I may get one or two more out of it. :) I'll just have to wait and see.   Danika was there that day when my uncle took me back to that house one last time. I was supposed to stay in his truck. I don’t even know why I was with him. The look in her eyes, it wasn’t pity, it was empathy. But, my immature mind couldn’t tell the difference. I thought she was afraid of me and I didn’t want to hear her insults. I heard them enough at school. But, how could his beautiful creature want to hurt anyone? I still wouldn’t take the chance. When she opened her mouth to speak, I ran back to my uncle’s truck. He told me to stay inside anyway and...