Not a whole lot to brain dump, this time around. Since the first of the year, I’ve been focusing on writing daily, and have been managing that. So definitely happy and a wee bit proud of myself on that front.
I had one kid, my oldest son, move out (for school) and miss him like crazy. And had another one, my younger daughter, come back home. Not that she was gone long, and we knew she wasn’t gone for good yet. It ties into the other thing on my mind. Her boyfriend of nearly 3 years was sworn in yesterday morning and is off to basic training for the Air Force. Very proud of this guy, who has become family to all of us, and I know the next couple weeks especially are going to be tough for my girl.
She also brought this girl with her.
Who definitely is NOT supposed to be on the bed. Luckily, it was washing bedding day, anyway, so I didn’t get to worked up about my allergies going crazy come bedtime. Also she’s too darned cute. Though, I still show her who’s boss, even if my daughter keeps referring to me as Grandma when she talks to the dog.
And that’s it from me…my mind is a simple place, right now. Writing and family. đ
Time for a song fic. This month we’re working with “God of the Ocean Tides” by Counting Crows. Here’s a link, if you want a listen.
Kept it short and sweet, again, this time. This isn’t connect to any particular story, but it’s set in the same world as Tempted to Death, where there are paranormal creatures and a network of hunters and researchers.
âSoâŠâ
Bastian was impressed. Heâd felt Owenâs gaze on him since
theyâd left townâitâd taken the other man a full half hour to speak. Yeah,
impressed heâd waited that long, but also annoyed because Bastian knew what was
coming.
âYou gonna call her?â
Fingers tightening around the wheel, Bastian shook his head.
âNope.â
âWhy not? You guys have history and seemed to be rekindling somethingâŠâ
Owen sighed. âYou really want to spend the rest of your life with just me for
companionship? âCause I like you and all, Bas, better than most, butâŠâ
âItâs what I signed up for.â
âThatâs bullshit, and you know it. There are plenty of people
in the network who have relationships and do their jobs.â
âGood for them,â Bastian snapped.
âAll Iâm saying is thereâs no reason you and Callie couldnâtââ
âI think Iâm a better judge of whether thereâre reasons standing
in my way,â he ground out, fingers aching, knuckles now white, on the wheel.
He didnât want to think of all those reasons, right now. Not
when he could still smell her, feel her, taste her. Heâd been an idiot. Weak and
stupidâŠand careless. Heâd allowed himself to forget what heâd dedicated his
life to, and that was unacceptable. Even for a short time, because it brought
too much pain. For both of them.
Because how was she supposed to understand what he couldnât
tell her? She couldnât know that he spent his days and nights hunting things most
people didnât believe in. That he had to be ruthless and focused in his work.
That heâd given up more than he ever thought possible to do it. That he could
never love her the way she wanted, the way she deserved.
Owen sighed. âSo, thatâs it, then? You move on, satisfied
with the small amount of time you had with her, but refuse to go after any
more?â
âYep, thatâs it,â Bastian repliedâa mix of half-truth, half-lie.
Because satisfied, he most definitely was not. And he wouldnât be, not really. He couldnât love her the way she wanted, but he also couldnât love her the way he wanted. Not if he was going to do the job he was called to do.
âSo, while I appreciate the support and concern,â he continued,
âdo me a favor? Call in and see where weâre going next and what weâre up
against.â
âYeahâŠâ Owen pulled out his cell but didnât make the call
immediately. âI didnât mean to make it more difficult, man. Sorry.â
Gaze firmly on the road ahead, Bastian nodded. Yeah, me, too.
It’s time for another Promptly Penned post – we all get the same prompt and see what we come up with. I can’t wait to see what the others have come up with, because this prompt made me laugh, even if I had a helluva time coming up with an actual story to go along with it.
For better or worse, this is what I came up with. Short and sweet, this time around.
As always, the prompt itself will be in bold.
Dread sat heavily in my stomach as I stared at Nick across the worn table. We’d met for lunch at our favorite diner – I’d been looking forward to it all day. This week had been hellish with both of us crazy busy with work. Other than muttered good nights while climbing into bed – if that – we hadn’t even had a chance to talk. Lunch today was supposed to change that.
But now… He had that distracted look – head tilted to the side, eyes slightly squinted, lines furrowing his brow, the corners of his mouth turned down – and he still hadn’t responded to my suggestion of a weekend away in the near future. The silence hanging between us was getting on my nerves.
I sighed and, propping my elbow on the table, rested my chin in my palm. After a moment, I nearly laughed. Oh, Nick was still ignoring me, but I’d figured out the distraction. The diner wasn’t very busy. Other than a few people sitting at the counter, the only other customers were a pair of guys two booths down from us. Two guys who were complaining loudly about the changes to Doctor Who.
Most wouldn’t assume it by just looking at Nick, who was well over six-foot, athletic and…well, hot as hell. But beneath the hunky exterior, my Nick was a sweetly nerdy guy and fanboy, who took disparaging his favorite TV show very seriously. Perhaps too seriously, at times.
“Excuse me. I have to go make a scene.” He slid across the booth’s seat and stood before taking the few steps to stand beside the next booth over.
This is a new feature we’ll be doing a couple times through the year – highlighting characters sharing firsts. We can post something from an already published work, a work in progress or something completely new. This time, we’re talking first meetings.
I decided to share the first time Grace met Noah and Ethan in Santuary.
This new world is full of risks, but which is greater…being alone or trusting others?
For Grace Summers, life after the super solar flare and deadly viral outbreak can be summed up in one word. Alone. Having lost everyone she loved, Grace travels on foot to her familyâs remote hunting cabin, where her father had stockpiled food and supplies for this type of situation.
Along the way, she meets Noah Hill and Ethan Erikson, a couple traveling the same direction. Grace struggles with her attraction to the pair until they make it clear they are just as interested in her.
With Noah and Ethan, Grace is no longer alone, but can she bring herself to trust them in this new world where everyone is just trying to survive no matter the cost?
The sound of Callieâs growling jolted Grace upright from
where sheâd slumped farther against the tree trunk. She gripped the rifle and
jumped to her feet, even before her eyes were fully open. Bringing the gun up
snugly against her shoulder, she scanned her surroundings to find what had
Callie sounding the alarm. She didnât have to look far.
Her heartbeat sped and her breathing stuttered when her gaze
landed on two men standing no more than twenty feet away.
âWhoa.â The taller of the two stepped forward, palms out in
a peaceful gesture. He stopped in his tracks when Callie let out another low,
menacing growl and moved in front of Grace. âWanna call off the hound?â
âWanna keep moving?â she returned.
âNot really,â the other man snapped.
âLet me rephrase.â She shifted slightly until the rifle was
leveled directly at him. âKeep moving.â
âWeâre not looking to cause any trouble,â the first man
assured. âIâm Noah; this is Ethan. Weâre just passing through, looking for a
place to catch a few winks before moving on.â He gestured around. âThereâs
plenty of room, and weâll share.â He pointed back at his partner, who sighed
and lifted a hand. Four good-sized fish dangled from a line held between his fingers.
âNot interested.â Grace widened her stance and waited. The
last thing she needed was two strange men hanging around. She wasnât going to
feel guilty about sending them on their way into the night. Honestly, if they
couldnât understand why a lone woman wouldnât want two strange men hanging
around, they were idiots.
âGod, enough.â Ethan stepped forward. âYou have no claim on
the place. Itâs late and dark; Iâm tired and fucking hungry. If you donât like
it, you can move on.â
âEthan,â the other man admonished. âThereâs no needââ
âHey,â Grace interrupted, exasperation edging out the panic.
âLast I checked, Iâm the one holding the gun, so Iâm sure as hell not going
anywhere.â
âLook, sweetheartââ
âIâm not your sweetheart!â she snapped. âDo you always make
everything so damned difficult? I was here first, and I donât make camp with
men I donât know.â For good reason. She shook her head slightly and tried to
push thoughts of her last, and only, encounter with another person on this
journey. Her stomach roiled, and her dinner threatened to make a reappearance.
Ethan let out an annoyed huff of breath, and Noah moved
closer to him. Grace watched as he ran his palm down Ethanâs arm then wrapped
his fingers around the other manâs hand. Ethan turned his head, and the men
exchanged a long look before responding.
âAnd thatâs completely understandable. Smart,â Noah said
âBut itâs late, dark; we arenât going to be able to get much farther in any
case. We just want to eat, sleep, and, in the morning, weâll be on our way. How
can we make that happen? What can we do to ease your mind?â
Graceâs gaze drifted back to their linked hands, where
Noahâs thumb slowly rubbed the back of Ethanâs hand. She tightened her grip on
the rifle and inhaled a shaky breath.
âYouâre lovers?â she blurted, jerking her head back to look
at their faces.
First flash fic of the year. Yay! We’ve all be given the same photo and have to come up with a story to fit. Can’t wait to see what everyone comes up with!
Sometimes, I hated my job.
Okay, to be fair, I always
hated my job. The necessity of it. Though,
I had to wonder, did being part of a secretly growing rebellion actually count a
job? Or was it a mission? A quest? Or just a series of trying tasks shoved upon
me in between having to fight for my life? And, in the end, did it fucking
matter?
âI donât understand.â
With a sigh, I shoved aside useless ponderings and focused
on the task at hand. Vetting a possible recruit. Oh, joy. Glancing over at the
man in the passenger seat, I stopped the car and put it in park.
Daniel Hartford, my latest assignmentâcute, clean-cut, smart,
a recent self-proclaimed Sympathizer of Magic-users. He also happened to be the son of one of the
most influential couples in the country. The Hartfords were old, old moneyâŠand very
vocal in their staunchly anti-magic stance.
The leadership wanted to know if he was on the level,
because if he was⊠Well, he could be a helluva asset with the access he had.
Which was why Daniel was now my problem.
Heâd already been checkedâIâd gone over the files last nightâby
several of the higher ups, and they liked what theyâd seen, so they requested
me.
The human lie detector.
I hated that they called me that. Never to my face of course.
Because they avoided face to face with me as much as possible. And who wouldnât?
Feeling othersâ emotions, knowing when someone was lyingâŠseemed like a pretty
awesome power to manifest, but in reality, it led to a very, very lonely life.
I was an asset the leadership never hesitated to be use, but
never someone they wanted to actually have around. Everyone had their secrets,
after all. Even the good guys.
âMs. Carter?â
Danielâs soft query pulled me out of my head again, and I inwardly
cursed my distraction. I had a job to do, and it was time to do it.
âI told you to call me Emma,â I reminded him. âI know this
doesnât make sense, but it will. Come on.â
I exited the car and waited for him to do the same before walking
toward the house in front of us. Remaining silent as I lead him across the lawn
and up the steps to the front door.
So far, I hadnât sensed any deception from Daniel. So, that
was good. Everything Iâd gotten from him, so far, assured me he wasnât an
actual threat, a possible plant from the other side.
Didnât mean that he was a strong ally, though. There was a
world of difference between sympathizing with Magic-users and actually being
willing to act and fight for them, sometimes in violent ways. Not to mention putting
your own life at risk.
Before Iâd give my approval, I had to be sure that there was
more to Daniel Hartford than simply rejecting his parentsâ beliefs and making an
impulsive stand against them, because trusting him was a huge, huge risk. And,
at this point, I had nothing to assure me of that the risk was worth taking. While
heâd never publicly aligned himself with his parentsâ stance on magic, neither
had he ever shown any support for Magic-users. Not until two weeks ago, when heâd
made contact with one of the more public Sympathizer groups and inquired about the
cause.
It seemed like an unlikely first leap to me.
Turning the knob and pushing the unlocked door open, I
gestured for him to enter. He frowned then moved past meâŠimmediately gasping as
he walked into chaos. Shock and confusion pulsed on the air between us as we
moved through the main level.
The old house was, to put it simply, a disaster. Ransacked
with no care for the destruction caused. The floor was littered with books,
papers, toysâŠ
âWhat happened here?â Daniel asked, stopping in the doorway
to the back room. Itâd once bene a library or an office. Now, like the rest of
the house it was in shambles. He turned back toward me. âLook, I donât know why
you brought me here, but Iâve already jumped through enough hoops when all I
want to do is help. If youâre not going to tell meââ
âThe family that lived here was on the watch lists. Suspected
of having magic,â I explained, though I knew he had to have heard of the blasted
lists, given who his parents were. âYour father reported themâhe worked with
the husband, insisted the entire family be brought in for questioning.â
I tilted my head and concentrated. The shock radiating off
him was genuine. He hadnât known about this family, this incident.
Inhaling deeply, he looked around. âSo, what happened? Did
they⊠Did they resist back when the police came to get them? They used magic to
fight back?â
âNo.â I stepped closer, keeping my gaze locked on his face
and my power centered on his every reaction. âThey werenât magic, Daniel. They
went quietly, didnât resist. They were questioned, again and again. Then, after
days, they were supposedly released, but they never made it home.â I hesitated
a moment, throat tight. âTheir bodies were found in shallow graves outside the city
several weeks later.â
âNo, noâŠâ He shook his head then gestured around them. âThis
was aâŠraidâŠan invasion. If they went quietly, whyâ They were killed? Youâre
saying that they were killed because my father reported them, because there was
just a suspicion that they had magic?â
As his emotions prickled hotly over my skin, I felt an
inkling of regret for what I was doing but quickly squashed it. This was as
much for him as the cause.
âDaniel, in the countless witch hunts in our history, very
few of those killed, who had their lives and family destroyed, were actually magic.
All it took was a suspicion, a rumorâŠâ I reached into pocket and pulled out the
small stack of photos, flicking them one by one, âHenryâŠPennyâŠGrantâŠand Lucy,â
onto the floor in front of him. âThey arenât the first innocents to die, and
they wonât be last.â
The color drained from his face as he stared down at the
images, his throat working convulsively. He crouched down, tracing a trembling
finger over the photo of four-year-old Lucy laughing at camera.
I backed away from him, overwhelmed by his sadness and anger,
but determined to finish this, so we could both move on. âI understand that you
donât share your parentsâ beliefs, Daniel. That much is obvious, but what youâre
trying to sign up for is much more than standing on opposite sides of an issue.â
His head snapped up, and he glared at me fiercely. âIâm not
an idiot.â
âNo, youâre not,â I agreed. âFrom everything Iâve heard and seen, youâre incredibly smart with a world of opportunities. What Iâm trying to sayârather poorly, I admitâis war is coming, Daniel. Itâs inevitable, but you donât have to be on the front lines. Most of us⊠We donât have a choice. Weâre fighting for basic rights, for our lives, but youâre lucky. You do have a choice. Being a Sympathizer doesnât mean you have to risk everything, risk your life. No one would blame you for avoiding that.â
He looked back down then picked up the pictures, stacking them in one palm as he stood. He stared at the little girl, again, for a long, tense moment, then he tucked the photos in his back pocket. Clearing his throat, he walked over to me. I lifted my chin to meet his gaze, my own eyes stinging at the sight of the tears in his.
I’m happy to see the end of 2018. It wasn’t the worst or anything, just a year full of…growing pains, I suppose. I spent much of the year learning things about my health and things I needed to do and all that jazz – which I will not go into detail about, because no one needs that. LOL
Writing definitely took a backseat to all of that. Not something I can or even would change, because it was important for me to go through, and there were lots of important things I needed to learn and change. And I’m sure that there will be more of that in the future but I feel as though I have a firmer grip on things and I can move forward now.
So, basically, I’m not going to bemoan all the things I didn’t do in 2018. I’m going to chalk it up to learning and getting my head on straight with things, and call it good.
Toward the end of 2018, I started writing regularly again (before the craziness of the holidays started), so that is what I want to focus on as we start the new year. I’m keeping my goals simple to start with, and I’m going to revisit them several times through the year. I’m just focusing on writing-related goals for this post.
Write regularly – as near to daily as possible, even if it’s only 100 words.
Re-release the contemporary novels and the paranormal novels I’ve gotten the rights back for.
I’m still pretty under the weather, but I said I was going to blog this week, so darn it, I’m gonna. đ I don’t know that I can come up with ten things, to be honest, but I’ll give it a wack.
I don’t NEED it, but man I want it. And love it. đ
Never enough washi…Yeah I have a problem.
Yes, yes, YES! đ
Another trip to the UK and Ireland. I mean, I’d argue that I need it but apparently I won’t die withough it…whatever.
And that’s it from Sick!Jess because my brain is seriously offline. But tell me what you want that you don’t necessarily need. Then, make sure to head over to Bron’s blog to see what she came up with for this Top 10.
It’s our final Promptly Penned of the year, and I have been waiting for this one for soooooo long. From the very beginning, this one sparked an idea for Bron and me. We have plans for some connected Bound booksâwritten separately but connected and happening concurrentlyâand this prompt… Well, it brought forth two guys that I fell in love with from word one. So, our posts are similar but from differering POVs, giving you a taste of two heroes you’ll be seeing from us in the future.
The prompt will be in bold within the story.
Sam cursed under his breathâagainâas he stumbled over his own freaking feetâagainâand wonderedâyes, AGAINâwhy he wasnât buried beneath the warm duvet, unconscious and blissfully thought-free.
But no. Instead of that wonderful escape from reality, he was up at the ass-crack of dawn, tripping like a drunk duck behind his older brother on a trail that clearly led to nowhere. And, because heâd woken late, he hadnât even had a single cup of coffee. Seriously, up before the damned sun, and Ollie was bitching about being late. Late to where, exactly, Sam wanted to know. It wasnât like the blasted hill beneath their feet gave a damn that they were treading upon it fifteen minutes later. At least then heâd be clear headed.
He tripped, yet again againâdidnât they have people clearing rocks off the trail? Fucking dangerous is what this was. ThisâŠthis was not what heâd signed up for. Though, Ollie⊠Sam sighed, and a small smile curved his lips. Ollie was probably soaking it all up, getting almost high on freaking nature. This was his idea of heaven, no doubt.
Not for Sam. No, give him cities, night-life, clubs, a coffee shop on every corner, a nice enthusiastic fuck toâ Nope, not thinking about that. No thinking of fucks, Samuel, enthusiastic or otherwise.
Of course, trying not to think of itâŠsure fire way to zero his thoughts on the very thing he wished would stay hidden behind the exhausted, hangover fog heâd been swimming in since falling out of bed.
Last night.
Which, he granted, had been rather enthusiastic. But it hadnât been his finest hour. He grimacedânot that heâd lasted remotely that long. God, the guy had been so freaking pretty, too. Right down to his thick, flushed coâ Sam grunted as he walked right into Ollie, nearly falling back on his ass.
“What’d you stop for?” he snapped.
Oliver turned, brows lifted. “I’m just enjoying how fucking gorgeous this is. I mean, look at this place.”
“I’ve been looking.â Sam gestured around themâŠat all the nothing. âNot a goddamn coffee shop anywhere.”
Oliver rolled his eyes and started walking again. “Being away from a city and all its conveniences isn’t going to kill you.”
Sam snorted and followed. “You don’t know that!”
“Rough night, I take it?”
Sam inhaled deeply through his nose, teeth grinding at the cheerful, amused tone. He liked his brother. Scratch that, he adored the hell out of him, but aside from their shared features, the two men had very little in common. Sam spent most of his life sincerely believing heâd been adopted. Some days, like today, he still clung to that theory as the only explanation for being in a family who thought outdoorsy shit was fun. Sam appreciated nature as much as the next person, he really did. He just didnât need to be in it.
“My night was just fine, thank you very much.â Keep telling yourself that, Sammy-boy. It’s the morning I’m having trouble with.” He panted, curses bursting from his lips, as he righted himself, yet again, toes throbbing from where heâd kicked a large rock. “And what the hell is wrong with you that this is your idea of a good time?!”
“This is a great time. And besides, I did the London pub crawl with you when we first got here.”
“Um, excuse me, but that pub crawl was steeped inâŠin culture and history and shit! We drank at pubs that had been there for centuries. Canât do that back home. We have trails and dirt andâŠand fucking rocks,â he kicked another out of his way half-heartedly, âat home, Ollie! And youâre missing the biggest draw of all, brotherâthere was beer at the pub crawl. There’s no beer here, Ollie. None. There is zero beer.â
He knows heâs ranting, but what choice did he have, really? It was the ultimate distraction from things heâd rather not think aboutâitâs what he did, always. Not that his torrent of words was in any way stopping the humiliating little movie in his head of the night before. Nothing like acting like a fumbling teenager, from start to, God help him, premature finish, to cut a man down to size.
He lifted his gaze and stared at his brotherâs back, happy to see the relaxed movements and the absence of tension in his shoulders. Of course Sam also used his ranting to distract others, too. And after everything that had happened before theyâd come here, Ollie was much more deserving of a distraction than Sam was. His brother had been gutted by his break up with Gina. Not that he should still be that cheating bitch. Sam hadnât been lying when heâd confronted herâif she hadnât come clean about her fucking around, he would have laid it out for Ollie. Heâd have hated every second of it, but no way in hell was he going to let his brother waste any more of his life on that woman.
Samâs drunken pursuit of cock that ended in embarrassment didnât rate high at all in the grand scheme of things. And hey, at least he still had dick-twitching memories of Mr. Pretty Boy. He was sure heâd pull those up front and center when jacking off in the future. Once the sting of said memories faded.
Ollie snorted and paused at the top of the hill to look back. “When we get back, I’ll buy you a pint at that pub down the street from Gram’s.”
Before he can respond, he stumbles again. And fineâŠjust fine. He gets itâthe universe hates him. He drops to his knees in the grass framing the narrow trail, flips over and starfishes on his back, staring at the lightening sky. “No need to bother, dear brother⊠This is my life now. I have climbed this hill, and now, I will die upon it.”
Oliver suddenly towered over him, unsuccessfully fighting a grin. He nudged Samâs hip with his foot. “Shut up. We’ve only been hiking for twenty minutes.”
With a groan, Sam started to sit up, only to collapse again, spreading out even farther, bumping in to Ollieâs legs.
“Could you be more dramatic?” Oliver asked, nudging him again.
Oh, he did not just⊠Clenching his fists, Sam arched back, opened his mouth, and wailed wordlessly at all the stupid, stupid nature around them…that he would endure any time he had to because it made his brother so stupidly happy.
It’s time for another Promptly Penned post. We’re all given the same prompt and see where it takes us. This week is a bit short and sweet and, dare I say, kinda fluffy (well, much fluffier than I could have done with this prompt LOL). Because that’s exactly what I needed, right now. đ The prompt itself is in bold in the post.
“For God’s sake!” I shoved at his shoulder then, turning away from him, put distance between us. “I’m trying to have a conversation with you!”
“And I’m trying to subtly avoid it!” he shot back, amusement coloring his voice, like he was holding back laughter.
“Ass,” I muttered. “This is important to me, you know, and we have to talk about it eventually.”
“Didn’t think there was anything to discuss, really.”
I jerked away when he touched my arm, and his answering chuckle made my blood boil.
“Nothing to discuss? I don’t know why I even bother anymoâ”
My words morphed into a startled yelp as he grabbed hold of me and hauled me back across the mattress. He wasted no time in getting me on my back and pinning me down. I narrowed my eyes at his stupid laughing face. Before I could say anything, his expression softened.
“Babe,” he sighed. “There’s nothing to discuss, because you’re not going anywhere. Of course I’m introducing you to my parents when they come for the holidays. I’m not hiding what we have. You’re not my dirty little secret, not ever.” He dropped a fast hard kiss on my mouth. “And you bother because you love me.”
I rolled my eyes at his exaggerated drawl but brought my arms around him, unable to hold back the low moan as he dragged his lips along my jaw.
“And I love you. Now,” he breathed the words against my arched neck, “let me show you how much. No more talk tonight, yeah?”
I made a small sound in the back of my throat. Not exactly a sound of agreement but close enough. Of course there was still loads to talk about. His parents were coming to visit. and they didn’t know about us yet. Didn’t know I was now officially living in their son’s house…where they would be staying for a full week.
I let out a shuddered breath as he kneed my legs apart and settled heavily between them, pressing me delciously into the bed. Tomorrow… Tomorrow was soon enough to talk about all that. And I could admit, even if just to myself, I didn’t exactly mind his method of avoidance.
