Friday, May 29, 2009
I have completed chapter one of Fall from Grace and it is now posted on Fictionpress. Please click here if you are interested in reading it. It is under a different pen name so you will not find it on my templeton21 homepage. I am very nervous about posting this and I am slowly going to be easing myself into this story so don't expect daily updates.
Thank you everyone from the bottom of my heart for all of the kind and encouraging words and emails you sent me. I still have to answer everyone's emails but I promise that I will get back to you as soon as I can since you took the time to write to me.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Beauty Queen of Only Eighteen
“Everything is so beautiful,” she murmured, staring up at the blue sky above her and the green leaves of the trees rustling gently in the wind. “I think sometimes, we all forget just how beautiful the world can be. We are all so busy trying to live our lives to the fullest that we honestly forget to live at all.”
He slowly pulled the needle from her arm and loosened the tie he had wrapped around her upper arm to help him locate a vein before running his fingertips lightly over the thin, delicate skin on the inside of her elbow.
“I can hear the clouds moving,” she said, her words slow, each one deliberate, and she lifted one of her hands upwards towards the sky.
He bent down and kissed her arm and her hand fell to the back of his head.
“I can hear my blood. I can hear yours,” she continued and he lifted his eyes, looking at her, his lips remaining resting on her arm. A smile as slow as honey spread across her lips. “I feel beautiful.”
“You are beautiful,” he told her and then began trailing his lips up from her elbow towards her shoulder, goose bumps fleshing across her skin. “So fucking beautiful.”
“I only feel that way with you,” she said, her eyes floating back towards the sky. “I want to live on a cloud… when I was a little girl, my dad would take me to the state fair and I would ride around on his shoulders and he would buy me pink clouds of cotton candy. I thought it was the best thing in the world.”
“I’ll buy you all the cotton candy you want,” he said, his fingers brushing aside the strap of the tank top she wore from off her shoulder, his lips continuing on its path. He sat up on his knees and tugged his tee-shirt off, rolling it into a ball and tossing it aside, before laying on top of her again, his lips returning to her throat. “Keep talking, Grace. The more you talk, the more I know you’re alright.”
“Was that heroin?” She asked and then nodded her head before he could respond, already knowing what was pumping through her veins. “Yes, it was. Why is it bad? I have never felt more… alive. I feel everything. And everything feels me. If something makes you feel this good, it can’t possibly be bad.”
“You can have more if you want,” he said.
His hand dropped down to her hip and began pushing up the material of her shirt, feeling the naked skin of her stomach. She didn’t stop him as he sat her up slightly to pull the top off and she fell backwards onto the plaid blanket spread out beneath her, laying before him in her blue jeans and red lace bra. Her dark brown hair spread out around her, a strand blowing across her forehead, and her large brown eyes were thickly outlined with black eyeliner, some of it smeared.
She smiled as he kneeled before her, above her, and he lifted a finger to her nose, trailing down the bridge and over her plump, pale pink lips.
“Do you like my freckles?” She asked, lifting her own hand to the bridge of her nose.
He smirked. “I do.”
His fingers easily snapped the button open and lowered the zipper of her jeans and without him having to tell her, she lifted her hips. He easily divulged her of them, tossing them aside much like he had done with his shirt.
“And I like your tattoos,” she said, sitting up, her fingers wrapping around his biceps, her tongue beginning to trace his well-defined abs.
His fingers tangled in her hair and she tilted her chin up, her eyes locking with his. She smiled and he placed a kiss to her forehead before guiding her onto her back, her arms winding around his shoulders as he laid on top of her.
“You didn’t take any of it,” she murmured.
She wasn’t able to keep her eyes open any further and both lids fell shut as she felt him begin to kiss her, massaging her lips with his.
“No, babe,” he whispered. “This time, it was all for you. I wanted you to have this.”
“But I want to share it with you. Please, Evan. Do some, too. Feel what I feel.”
He hesitated for a moment and then nodded his head. Giving her one more firm kiss, he sat up on his knees, reaching into the back pocket of his blue jeans and pulling out the second small bag of brown powder. He didn’t bother with the needle though or boiling it down. It would take too long so instead, he opened the bag and she watched as he snorted it up his nose.
He exhaled harshly, almost coughing, wiping at his nostrils, and she smiled at him.
“Can you hear that?” She asked as his fingers tangled in her hair again and he tilted her head back, his lips latching onto her throat.
She closed her eyes, her mouth falling open in a moan. “Everything.”
Saturday, May 23, 2009
I know I have a lot of stories unfinished at the moment but with everything that has happened, a story idea has popped into my mind and I wanted to run it by all of you to see what the general consensus in regards to it was.
Fall from Grace
This story would be a bit more on the dark side like A Pocketful of Poppies was. It would follow Grace and her slow descent into falling in with the wrong crowd. There would be drinking, partying, experimenting with drugs and having sex. Despite all of this, it will also be a love story - a strange, slightly fucked-up love story but one nonetheless.
I am working on the first chapter but I am taking my time with it, not wanting to rush anything. Does this sound interesting at all? Please leave me a comment and let me know! I would love to hear your thoughts and opinions (keep the cruelty to yourselves) Thank you and I hope everyone has a good weekend.
Monday, May 11, 2009
But right now, I am not enjoying it. People do not respect me or the efforts I put into things if they think that taking my stories without my permission is something that is not wrong. Right now, writing any story feels like a chore and something I dread because every time I open a review, I do not know if it is a complete insult or someone notifying me that another story of mine has been stolen again.
I think at the moment, the best thing for me to do is to take a summer hiatus and work on my short stories that I wish someday to have published. Thank you to my fans - and my true friends - for always supporting me. But this is something that I feel I must do. I will slowly be taking stories down from Fictionpress but I will let everyone know ahead of time before I start doing that.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Thursday, May 7, 2009
I present Jane and Preston from Ghetto Gospel in the second alphabet challenge vignette. I am also working on "F" is for Family for Molly, Hawkin and Lily from The Flower Girl as well as the next chapter of More than Anyone. In the meantime, enjoy Jane and Preston:
There Are Worse Things You Can Do To Yourself Other Than Love Me
In the first month living with her, Preston realizes that Jane loves a lot of different things.
When they open the windows of their motel room that first morning after they've left, she inhales the air deeply and says that she loves the way freshly mowed grass smells and the scent of the air right before a storm rolls in. She has body spray that she wears every day that smells of vanilla and in the shower, she uses a blueberry-scented body wash.
Preston grows used to all of these smells mingling in his nose and soon, he can't remember how he slept without having his face pressed to the side of her neck, inhaling those scents that are distinctively Jane.
When it's warm enough, she loves wearing skirts right after she shaves her legs, loving how smooth her skin feels when she rubs it together, (and Preston has to admit that he loves it too) and she loves to walk barefoot. Sometimes, they go to the park down the street and almost as soon as they step into the soft dewy grass, she slips her shoes off and walk the rest of the way with them swinging back and forth in one of her hands.
She sometimes convinces him to take his shoes off as well and they sit there, playing footsie and leg wrestling with one another which always leaves her squealing with laughter when he tackles her into the grass underneath him. She kisses him and tells him that she's never been this happy before and Preston thinks that, if possible, he loves her just a little bit more every time she tells him that because he will still wake up in a panic in the middle of the night, expecting to find her packing her things, ready to leave, or waking up and find that she's already gone.
For some reason she still hasn't told him, Jane really doesn't love food. She eats but only because she has to, and most of the time, she acts as if it's actually a chore to put the food in her mouth and chew and then swallow. He doesn't want to ask even though this is Jane and Preston knows he can ask her anything but he wonders if she has ever suffered from one of those eating disorders.
They get pizza and Chinese take-out a lot and eat in their motel room, sitting on the bed, facing one another, their feast scattered between them, and she does seem to prefer pepperoni over sausage and sweet and sour chicken doused in the red, sticky sauce. She doesn't come out and says that she loves these things but any time he orders dinner, Preston begins making sure to get these particular foods specifically for her.
She loves when he's on top during sex. She loves the way she feels completely covered with his body, almost being pinned down, pressed into the mattress. She loves rubbing her feet on the back of his calves and she loves when he shifts his thrusts and can press his pelvis against her clit. That almost always makes her cum immediately.
Jane loves Law & Order which cracks Preston up for some reason, but she prefers the episodes with Jerry Orbach in them before he passed away and she has mentioned once or twice that the character reminds her of her dad - another thing which cracks Preston up because although he has never officially met the man, Detective Lennie Brisco with his snarky one-liners and dry humor is a lot cooler than Tim Benedict, the very definition of asshole, could ever be.
Still though, he watches the show with her every day and when she gets extremely quiet, he knows that she's thinking of her dad and he'll put his arm around her, holding her close to him, letting her know silently that she's still got him.
Jane loves a lot of things, Preston realizes, and he has a hard time reminding himself that he is one of those things that she just happens to love. The way she looks at him or smiles at him, he sometimes wonders why she does that before he remembers that she does it because she loves him. The way she kisses him or will sneak up behind him to wrap her arms around him in a hug, it's all because she loves him.
He doesn't understand how she can find room within herself to love so many things at the same time.
He almost asks her a few times but he stops himself. He doesn't want to know. He wants to learn how to do it himself.
Monday, May 4, 2009
Sugar, We're Going Down Swinging
"What's your favorite color?"
The question cuts through the otherwise silence of the night and Tyson Reed feels himself being pulled away from the brink of sleep he was on the verge of.
Amy Dunn has moved into his condo less than two weeks earlier and he is still adjusting to her habits - like asking him questions just as he is about to fall asleep.
He knows why she does it and it isn't just because Amy redefines the word "chatty". She does it because she likes to have conversations. She likes to hear him talk to her. It is her way of reassuring herself that their relationship isn't completely one-sided because for a while, in the beginning, she felt exactly that.
So he answers and his voice is low and gruff from his exhaustion.
He can practically hear her frowning through the dark. "Grey isn't really a color."
"You're thinking of white," he says, rolling onto his stomach and throwing an arm across her hip. He finds that since she has moved in, he is always seeking her body out in his sleep. "Or black. One of those."
He yawns and Amy moves onto her back, his arm now across her middle.
"Grey," she repeats as if it’s some foreign word on her tongue. "Mine is yellow."
"Yellow is too bright."
She laughs at that but then it dies down until she grows quiet. He can hear her frowning again. He may not be a big talker but that has only taught him to truly listen to everything around him and Amy just happens to be a very loud thinker.
Even when she is silent - which is a rarity - Tyson is still able to hear her.
"We're very different," she comments but he can hear an edge to her voice and he knows that this is one of those times that he really needs to talk to her because if he doesn't, she is going to start panicking and a seed of doubt will plant in her mind and Tyson has found that those seeds are too stubborn to remove once they've taken root.
"I like that about us," he says, moving his head from his pillow onto hers, his nose pressing to her cheek and his forehead resting in her pile of reddish-blonde curls.
She smells like the rain that is softly pattering outside. Fresh. Clean. Like springtime.
"You do?" She asks, turning her head to look at him, their noses now touching.
He nods. "I need a girl like you. Bright and happy and unable to ever shut up." She smacks his arm lightly and the corner of his mouth quirks up in a smile. He slowly blinks his eyes open and finds that she is staring directly into his and even in the darkness of his bedroom - correction, their bedroom - he can see the sea blueness of her orbs. "I need someone who isn't me. I need you."
That makes her smile and she kisses him. He can feel the smile bloom wider against his mouth and he doesn't know how he does it but somehow, he has figured out how to say things that put her at ease even if he thinks what he is saying isn't that great or prophetic.
He may not say something all of the time but when he does, it seems to be exactly what Amy needs to hear.
It’s a skill he’s glad he has.
"Anything else?" He prods though he isn't sure why.
He really wants to get to sleep since he has to get up in just a few hours for his usual five-mile run and then go to the gym for training. But he doesn't want to go to sleep until he knows that she's okay.
"Favorite movie?" Amy asks, her fingers tracing up and down on his forearm.
She smiles. "Because of the boxing?"
"Because Robert DeNiro's the man."
She laughs this time and again, he feels his own lips being pulled upwards in a smile. Amy is one of two people who can actually make him smile - the other being his older brother.
"What's your favorite part on my body?" She asks but she is still laughing, joking with him, not expecting a response.
Tyson answers anyway. "Your skin."
"My skin? Really?" She asks, somewhat confused.
He nods. "It's the softest skin I've ever felt. I love it."
She's quiet after that. She gives him another kiss on the lips, a soft gentle one that silently tells him he can go to sleep now. He closes his eye, maneuvering his head until it is on her shoulder, his face pressed in the crook of her neck, and he feels her slip one arm around his shoulders while the other begins to slowly stoke her fingers through his hair.
He feels his entire body relax and he wonders how he ever got to sleep without Amy in bed with him.
And then, just as he is about to slip off to sleep for the second time that night, she speaks again.
"I need to go and buy some more moisturizer."
Saturday, May 2, 2009
I got this idea reading through some livejournals. This is how it works. First, you pick any letter in the alphabet and then you pick a pairing that you want to read about. For example – T is for Temptation, Brady/Ali (Something Pretty). It can be ANY topic for ANY letter using ANY couple I have created – both on Fictionpress and for those who read my stories on Fanfiction.
I think this could be a lot of fun and I want to give it a try. When people start making suggestions, I will post the letters that have been used so everyone knows which ones are still available. I will write more than one story for a couple if that couple gets requested more than once. Have fun with this!
The following letters have been taken and I will think of short one-shot stories to write using the suggested topics:
A - Adjusting for Ben/Olivia More than Anyone
B - Birthday for Brett/Ella The Prettiest Thing
C - Children for Andrew/Carrie A Fairy Tale
E - Enchanted for Harry/Anne More than Anyone
F - Family for Hawkin/Molly The Flower Girl
H - Housewarming for Reed/Cami Beyond the Grey Sky
J - Jealousy for Andrew/Carrie A Fairy Tale
L - Love for Preston/Jane Ghetto Gospel
N - Natural for Mark/Lexie Greys Anatomy
O - Obsession for Ben/Olivia More than Anyone
P - Passion for Tyson/Amy The Prize
Q - Quiet for Justin/Poppy A Pocketful of Poppies
R - Reeling for Brian/Rowan The Waverly Myth
S - Spinning for Brett/Ella The Prettiest Thing
T - Trouble for Matt/Lindsey Blood and Honey
U - Unbreakable for Ryan/Rachel Circle Park
V - Vacation for Trevor/Joy The Prettiest Thing
W - Wedding for Will/Lucy Everything Will Be Alright
X - X-Rated for Casey/Amelia Some Kind of Wonderful
Y - Youth for Patrick/Maddy The Lion and the Lamb
Z - Zoo for Tyson/Amy The Prize