Quickie
Here’s some nice jeans for y’all.
I’m really busy this morning…not sure when I’ll get a chance to post for real. I have two books that I read last night that I’d like to tell you about.
Have a great day, everyone.
Another Foggy Day
The picture doesn’t really have anything to do with my post today. I just liked it….with everyone’s urge to get away from their lives and the worlds they live in…I thought this was a good symbol for running away. š
The fog was thick this morning as I was driving to work. While I drove with my eyes on the road and the cars in front of me, I admit my mind wandered. It went down paths of stories I’ve already told in an earlier post called Fog. Quickly though it went towards the story I’m revealing piece by piece to you each Tuesday and I see my hero riding his horse in Hyde Park in the early morning fog. A second man joins him and I can tell my hero is agitated by the way his horse won’t stand still. Whether there are words exchanged at that moment, I didn’t know. I am merely an observer to an early morning meeting. His feelings and the conversation they might have had will be shown to me in time for the next installment for I think it’s time for my hero and His Grace to move beyond the Ball and into the world my hero hides from.
What do you think? Should their relationship expand from beyond the stiff unreality of the ballroom? Maybe to places where my hero feels more comfortable and less a monster?
“Perhaps everything terrible is in its deepest being something helpless that wants help from us.”–Ranier Maria Rilke
The Ball- Part 2
I’ll admit that Colin Firth isn’t really what I see in my mind when I think of either of my characters in this story. But he’s good-looking and dressed in regency clothes, so I thought I’d put him up. š Here’s the next installment of The Ball.
The Ball (c) 2006 T.A. Chase.
Here I am again. Another ball on another night. But where I had been dragged to the others, this one I am willing to make an appearance at. My uncle, the Earl, is bringing his oldest daughter out and as her cousin, I must show support. Besides my uncle is the only one of my family I feel remotely comfortable around. Maybe itās because he cares for nothing other than his horses.
I swing the young lady I am waltzing with around and a shot of heat runs down my spine. Lifting my gaze from the blank face of the girl, I feel lust burn through me as my eyes land on him. He enters the room as if he owns it. This time there are no shadows to hide me and he meets my stare with a nod. I stumble.
The lady protests and I mumble my abject apology. I am a complete failure at many things, but I pride myself on being a marvelous dancer. Here is my chance to find out my mysterious loverās name. When I ask my dance partner to tell me who he is, she looks at me like Iām an idiot. I get the feeling she is wondering what rock Iāve been hiding under. She tells me and shock strikes me dumb.
We finish our dance in silence and I return her to her mother. I manage to leave the ballroom without running into anyone or making a bigger fool of myself. No more gardens for me. I find there is no longer any comfort for me in the darkness of crumbling ruins. I lost my heart in a garden and havenāt been able to find it again.
The library offers the solace Iām seeking. I slip into the dark room and make my way to the window. Staring out, I study the couples wandering in my uncleās garden. They are bathed with silver moonlight. A pretty world I canāt be a part of.
How did he know I would accept his touch? What told him Iād willingly give my lips to him without protest? I rub my chest. My face is reflected in the window and I search for the brand that marks me. There must be something somewhere on my face that tells people of the horrors I hide inside. Some symbol letting those who would hate or mock me know I am a helpless scapegoat for their cruelty.
My breath fogs the window as I sigh. Yet there was no cruelty in his lips and no hatred in his touch. I can still feel his skin warming my chilled body. In my dreams, I relive the moment his mouth gave me my first kiss.
The snick of the door shutting causes me to whirl around. There he stands with his golden hair glinting in the darkness like the stars in the night sky. My voice gets stuck in my throat as he moves towards me. He shouldnāt want me. He shouldnāt sully his hands by touching me.
He is Lord Greyson, Duke of Northhamptonshire. Heās the confidant of kings, princes and prime ministers. Heās the prize every gold-digging mother and fortune hunting father look for. To me, he is a god and as such, is as out of reach as God is to a fallen angel.
He is perfection. I am a monster.
Yearning…
Quietly I stand in the window, staring out at the dying world. His soft breath bathes my calf and his hand encircles my ankle as if-even in his sleep-he feels my longing to be free.
Thoughts race through my mind. Does he know how my spirit wishes to fly again? Was my need to be love so strong that it subjugated any free will on my part?
A gentle tug on my ankle and I know he’s awake. With yearning deep in me, I take one last look at the world outside my window. Turning to him, I allow love to become my cage once more.
“You can’t seperate peace from freedom because no one can be at peace unless he has his freedom.”—Malcolm X
Treasure Trail
Makes you want to find out what kind of treasure he’s hiding under those jeans. š
How’s the writing going you must be asking yourself? (Okay well, I can dream that you’re wondering what I might be working on next.) Of actual writing, not much is getting done, but I’ve been organizing things in my mind for Lyva’s Chance and the rest of the books in that series. Also I’m getting glimpses of scenes for another story called Rescued From Fear that takes place in New Orleans.
Hope y’all have a great weekend.
“Those who can make you believe absurdities can make you committ atrocities.”–Voltaire
Gummi Bears.
Gummi Bears..I get addicted to these things. Grab a bag of sugar free gummis (beacuse sugar and I don’t mix well) and I’ll eat the entire thing in one setting. Bad T.A.
I stopped by the Pink Posse LSB chat earlier this afternoon. Might stop by later on if I have time.
Enjoy the firemen. Hall of Flame..I can see why.
Have a great night, everyone.
Short Post
Hey everyone, I’m going to busy most of the day..though I hope to get a real post up at some point. Think gummi bears…lol. Until then, I’d like to let everyone know that the Liquid Silver authors will be chatting all day at The Pink Posse. There will be a big list of ladies chatting. I might even drop by later on in the day. They’ll be talking about their heros with pictures and excerpts posted at SEx. Stop by and chat for a while.I’ll be back later on today..hopefully.
Have a great day.
Reincarnation
Have you ever thought you might have lived before? Has there ever been a time when you stood somew
here and thought to yourself that you’d been there before. Even though you know you’ve never been.Is it possible that your best friend is someone you’ve known in a previous life and that’s why you get along so well in this one.
What about the instanteous connection you feel with a person in a crowd place-bar, subway or airport? In the moment your eyes meet, it’s like you know every secret he holds in his heart. Could that man have been someone you knew better some other century?
In many cultures, the butterfly represents re-birth or reincarnation.
I’m not sure I want to have to keep coming back to earth, trying to learn a lesson that I haven’t been told about. Yet the romantic part of me believes it’s possible for us to come back-to right wrongs we’ve caused others or get a second chance at love. The cynical side says it all implanted in our DNA. Primative memories hidden deep in our psyche, released during times of stress or heightened awareness.
Which are you-a romantic or a cynic?
Have a great day.
“Seduce my mind and you can have my body. Find my soul and I’m yours forever.” –Anonymous
The Ball- Part One
Here is the first part of a story I started writing.
The Ball (c) 2006 T.A. Chase
Part One:
I stand in the shadows of the ballroom. Beautiful men and women whirl by me but I only see them as flashes of color on the edge of my vision. Like a moth drawn to a flame, my eyes focus on him. My cheeks flush and I feel myself stiffen. I step farther back into the dark, hiding from the society I was born a part of.
Flashing a smile, he brushes a kiss over the knuckles of a simpering lady. His golden hair glistens under the candlelight and my fingers itch to run through his curls. Shame burns through me. I understand that my longings arenāt normal. If anyone knew about them, Iād be scorned.
No one understands how my soul cries out for hard lips kissing me and strong arms holding me tight. Women leave me cold. I appreciate their beauty, but have no urge to lie with them. They are too soft. I fear hurting them in my passion.
He turns and for a moment our eyes meet. I know he canāt really see me because of the shadows I hide in, but all the same it feels like his brilliant blue gaze burns deep into my soul and uncovers all my secret longings.
Embarrassment and pain tear through me. The room closes in around me and I canāt breath. I need to get away. I need to run. Leaving my shelter, I stumble towards the doors leading to the garden. Maybe I could lose myself amongst the night, forget the way my body burns for him. Forget for a second what kind of freak I am.
Tears fill my eyes and blind me to the obstacles in my way. I bump into couples strolling along the edge of the dance floor. In an awkward stammer, I beg their pardon, reaching the doors at last. Sliding out into the darkness, I rush to the gazebo at the far end of the garden. It is falling apart, crumbling from neglect and indifference. It suits my mood.
I know what the people in the house are whispering about me. āFace of an angel and the brains of a goose.ā āPoor Lord Williamson. His heir is worthless.ā Thereāll be the ones whoāll try to be gracious. āHeās just shy. Give him a little more time. Heās only been up from the country for a month or so.ā
I groan. I am worthless. People scare me and I donāt want to infect them with the disease I deal with every second of my life. Burying my face in my hands, I flinch. The scars on my back cause me pain even though they arenāt fresh. I still remember the feel of the whip across my shoulders as my father screamed at me about my perversion.
Warm skin envelopes my hands and gently tugs them away from my face. I glance up. Before I can protest or say anything, his lips meet mine and I fall.
Look what I found…
Just lying around in the grass under a tree? šWow..the past two days were really horrendously busy at work. I was never so glad to see the weekend arrive. It’s been movie weekend around here. I went and saw Ice Age 2 and The Wild so far. Both were really good, but Eddie Izzard steals the show as Nigel the Koala in The Wild. Of course, I adore Eddie.
Hope everyone is having a wonderful weekend.
“Do not suppose opportunity will knock twice at your door.”—Sebastien R.N. Chamfort
