Archive for Uncategorized
Happy Hunk Day!
Yep..it’s Wednesday again. Thank goodness. Another two days and then a long weekend. 🙂
Did some more writing. Worked on a short story that will be part of a two-story book Paige and I are doing for Liquid Silver. Has to do with food. Now I have to do some research on the Japanese tea ceremony. *shaking head* Sometimes I wonder why I come up with these ideas…lol. Also went back to re-read some of Here Be Dragons (coming out in the fall from Loose-id). I’m getting a scene in my mind that will actually take place in the third book of the series. The second one (which I haven’t done much thinking on) will be Mordred and St. George’s story. Should be fun.
Well…off to do my ‘real’ job. Have a great day, everyone.
“In Heaven all the interesting people are missing.”—Friedrich Nietzsche
The Ball- Part Five
The Ball (c) 2006 T.A. Chase
Part Five-
“What have you got to lose?”
His question burns in my mind. I sit at the table and listen to my father rant about me going to the ball tonight. For the first time, I want to scream at him to shut the hell up. I’m dressed and sitting at the table instead of hiding. For one moment in my life, I am doing just exactly as he wishes and yet he isn’t happy.
I’m going to the ball because it’s the only way I know to contact his Grace. My courage doesn’t extend to visiting his house. I’m not sure my courage will last long enough for me to tell him I have nothing to lose.
It’s been difficult to admit that fact to myself. It’s been heart wrenching and painful. Much like amputating a limb would be, I imagine. My family surrounds me, but I’m not a part of them. They are living their lives in the narrow confines of the society they love. I’m not living at all. I’m merely existing, pushed outside of their circle and watching them as if they were actors on stage, playing at being loving caring people.
Staring at my father, I feel a strange weight lift from my chest. All my life I feared losing his love and respect. Then I catch a glimpse of the marks on my back and I realize I never had them. He hates me and always has. Nothing I do will ever bring that back to me. Not once has a kind hand been held out to me. Not even my mother cares what happens to me. She turned her back on me the day I was born and has never looked at me since then.
A stinging slap captures my attention. Quickly I drop my gaze. My father sees any confidence in me as a direct challenge. Without thought, I run my finger over the angry marks on my wrist. My last desperate cry for some sort of acknowledgement. If not for my uncle, I would have bled to death and that is another reason why I feel some obligation to my uncle. Whether he knows of my affliction or not, he still welcomes me with some sort of warmth. My father would have mourned in public, but rejoiced in private at my death.
I tune him out as he begins his tirade. In my mind, I imagine Greyson’s face. I recreate the touch of his lips and the feel of his body against mine. How could such a man like the Duke suffer my touch?
Yet he revels in it and seems willing to do whatever he must to suffer my hands again. My soul hungers for his taste and heat. If I’m depraved and insane, I will wallow in my perversions with a glad heart as long as he is with me. His touch is kind and gentle. Though I have spent precious little time with him, he sees me for what I really am and he doesn’t turn from me. I long for him to embrace my lonely soul and show me that I’m not a freak. I want him to prove my father’s words wrong. I’m not the devil’s spawn. I won’t destroy everything I love. I can survive outside the cage they have forced me to live in.
Lord Greyson has given me the keys to my freedom with two kisses and a sad smile.
My Cover!
Here it is, everyone. The cover for my LSB book, No Going Home. It’s exactly what I wanted. I was excited to see it when April Martinez sent it to me. 🙂 She’s so very talented.
I also got my first edits. Haven’t looked at them yet. Plan on doing that tonight. I’ve been hiding out…doing as much writing as I can. Want to get more books done, so I can have more great covers like this one. 🙂
Have a great day, everyone.
The Ball- Part Four
THE BALL (c) 2006 T.A. ChasePart 4:
It has been two days since the disastrous kiss in my uncle’s library. Somehow I’ve managed to avoid going to any balls. My family doesn’t miss my presence. The early morning fog carpets the ground in front of me as I ride my gelding in Hyde Park. He’s well-mannered so my mind twists and turns my encounters with the Duke.
The memories of our kiss drive me crazy with lust. Late at night I ache to be held in his arms again. Then I’d feel the tortured skin on my back and realize my infection somehow has poisoned his Grace.
It’s the only explanation I have for his searching me out and touching me. I’ve bewitched him. My father’s words are true. I am the devil’s spawn. I’ve corrupted a god and perverted him. A heaving sob rises in my chest. Once more I wonder why I didn’t die when my father begged me to after the wounds from my whipping festered. Why hang on to a life without joy or love?
I’m buried deep in my thoughts and don’t hear him approach until his gloved hand appears before my eyes to touch my own hand.
“Angel.” His voice is warm.
My gaze shoots to his face and horror fills my heart at the wound on his lip. Without thought, my fingers caress the air over it. He doesn’t flinch.
“I’m sorry.” Tears slip down my cheek. Ducking my head, I grimace. It’s bad enough he’s guessed my secret longings. He must think I’m weak with all the tears I shed around him.
“Don’t be sorry. It’s a small price to pay to be able to taste you.” He grabs my hand and lays our entwined fingers on his thigh.
Glancing wildly around, I try to free myself. “Your Grace, we mustn’t be seen like this.” Fear tracks down my spine, branching off into each scar until every muscle tenses.
“We are the only ones out here. I like touching you.”
I feel my face heat as he takes off his glove. After he strips mine from my hand, we touch skin-to-skin for the first time. His skin is rough as if he has done work without protecting them. His flesh is warm and slowly I begin to thaw. I’m paralyzed as I watch him lift my fingers to his mouth. The angry voice living in my head yells at me to pull my hand away. It demands I tell a lie and say I don’t want his Grace to touch me.
My soul ignores my mind. The part of me I’ve hidden deep to avoid punishment wants to enjoy its time in the sun. His tongue swirls around my fingertips as if he’s enjoying his favorite dessert. Tremors wrack my body and my horse shifts beneath me, reacting to the tightening of my muscles. I feel lust flood my skin as I begin to understand the depth of my depravity. I want his mouth to take my prick instead of my fingers. I need his tongue to taste my seed instead of my sweat even though I’ve never been serviced like that before.
Greyson’s blue eyes darken and I know he’s reacting to the desire that must be burning in mine. I break my gaze from his face and glance lower. The large bulge between his thighs makes my shaft twitch and swell. I long to touch him.
“We shouldn’t,” I whisper, barely loud enough to hear over my pounding heart.
Releasing my fingers from his mouth, he asks, “Why not?”
“It’s wrong.” There’s certainty in my voice. My conviction had been beaten into me over the course of several years.
“Who says it is?”
His strong grip takes my hand and places it where I long for it to be the most. Without thought, I stroke him through his breeches. He groans.
“Society. The priests. They all whisper and call this perversion.”
I fear what society and the church can do to me, but the fear doesn’t stop me as I press my palm harder against him.
He rocks his hips and moves in counter-point to my strokes. His words come out in a harsh whisper.
“I married a woman I didn’t love and shared her bed until she gave me two sons. Then I turned from her, leaving her with a broken heart. I’ve done what society and the church says I should.” He stops and grabs my hand. Silence reigns until I meet his eyes.
“All doing my duty has brought me is pain and shame. I no longer care if I lose any of what they say is important. Honor to myself now means more. I can lose it all and not miss what my life was.”
Hoof beats float down the trail towards us. Greyson kisses my hand and then lets me go. Before he disappears into the morning mist, he gives me a sad smile and asks:
“What have you got to lose?”
Merry Monday
Okay…blogger won’t let me upload the picture I wanted to share with y’all today. So I’ll try again later on. 🙂I hope wherever you are, it’s sunny because it’s still gray and dreary here. Yuck! It’s starting to feel like winter all over again. (not coldwise..just not much sun).
Didn’t do much writing this weekend. C and I ran errands mostly. He’s taking off for a week and a half for business. So we had to get his stuff all ready to go. 🙁
I guess that just leaves me more time to write. Hopefully.
Check in later. I’ll try and post the pic then. 🙂
Have a great day, everyone.
“Pray that your loneliness may spur you into finding something to live for, great enough to die for.”—Dag Hammarskjold
Happy Mother’s Day
To everyone who is a mother…thanks for taking the risk and being willing to give a child life and a chance. A mother is truly one of the bravest people in the world. This is your day. Enjoy it with those you love.And for those of you who aren’t mothers… I hope you have a great day as well. 🙂
“Before you were conceived I wanted you
Before you were born I loved you
Before you were here an hour I would die for you
This is the miracle of life.”—Maureen Hawkins
Michael
For Jenna…Mr. Michael Buble. 🙂 He is rather yummy, don’t you think?
Writing is going all right. I just haven’t decided what story to actually focus on right now. Except for The Ball, I’ve been writing a scene or two for a bunch of different stories. I’m switching between contemporary, historical and fantasy. Eventually, I’ll pick one to work on exclusively. 🙂
It’s another dreary day here. Hope your day is sunnier. 🙂
“At the height of laughter, the universe is flung into a kaleidoscope of new possibilities.”—Jean Houston
It’s a rainy day…
and whenever it rains, I’m reminded of one of my favorite paintings. This is done by Steve Walker. Stop by his website to check out the rest of his stuff. Beautifully detailed and wonderfully evocative. 🙂 He has several paintings that will be inspiring stories by me.
I got more written on The Ball. I’m on Part Eight and things are changing for my hero and Greyson. Angel (my hero. It’s the name Greyson uses for him) is finding out he has a little more support than he thought. 🙂 So maybe there’s hope for this defeated young man.
Also, did more work on Rescued From Fear, my New Orleans story. One of these days, I’m acutally going to have to type the entire story in and see just how many words I have…lol. I have a bad habit of writing on whatever I can find when inspiration hits. That means I have tons of pieces of paper lying around with scenes written on them. So I have to go through and fit the pieces together and hope I get a coherent story from them.
I’ve also decided that once Angel and Greyson’s story is finished, I’ll let you pick what story I do next for my blog. When the time comes, you’ll get to meet four guys and learn a little about their stories. Then you’ll pick which two you want to learn more about. 🙂 Cool idea, huh?
I have to get back to slogging through this soggy day. Have a great and dry day, everyone.
“Perhaps the feelings that we experience when we are in love represent a normal state. Being in love shows a person who he should be.”–Anton Chekov
Happy Hunk Day!
Thank god it’s Wednesday. Only two more days until the weekend. Can you tell I’ve been having a great week so far?
This guy would look great draped over some black satin sheets, huh? 😉
I have nothing earth shattering or mentally stimulating to talk about today. I’ve been doing some writing on a story based in New Orleans. Love that city and I’m sure it’ll be back-not to its former glory-but far better and safer than it was.
Oh, I’ve been assigned an editor at Liquid Silver. So I have my first set of edits to look forward to. Yay! I’m hoping that my gay cowboy and his lover will be available for everyone to read by the end of June or maybe July. I’ll keep y’all posted on that.
Have a great day, everyone.
“The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and science.”—Albert Einstein
The Ball- Part 3
The Ball (c) 2006 T.A. Chase
Part Three:
He moves towards me and I back up. His clean hands must not touch me. The memories I have of his touch disappear behind my fear of fouling his purity. The cool window glass presses against my back and the ridges of my scars serve to remind me of our differences
“No,” I whisper, holding my trembling hands out in front of me. Warning him to stay away.
His Grace looks at me and I see an emotion shining in them I can’t name. His voice slides over me like velvet. “I’ve seen you standing in the shadows. Aloof and unapproachable. Your eyes reflect nothing but what they want to see. Yet looking deeper into them, I see fear and longing. A fallen angel yearning for some glimpse of heaven.”
I shiver. How had he managed to read my thoughts? Is it possible that he knows he is the only heaven I ever want to embrace? My voice sticks in my throat. I can’t protest or move as he takes my shaking hands in his.
“So cold,” he murmurs, rubbing our hands together while his blue stare burns into my eyes.
I long to shut my eyes and block out his knowing gaze. I don’t want him to see my shame. I try to push him away. “No. Go.” My voice held no strength.
“Go?” He laughs softly. “I find I need another taste of you, my angel.”
Air brushes my lips. I breathe deep of his male scent. I harden and heat rushes through me. “Shouldn’t.” I sound like a fool, reduced to single word sentences, but my brain is shutting down with lust and fear.
“I have spent my life doing everything I should. It is time I start doing what I shouldn’t, but in doing so, give myself the greatest joy.” His hands creep up my arms. One goes around and cups the back of my head. The other slips to encircle my waist and tugs me close. Somehow his hand worms its way under my jacket to rest against the linen of my shirt.
I tense. His palm lies on the ridge of one of the scars crossing my back. He doesn’t seem to notice the outward signs of my demon soul. Our chests brush with each breath we take. My heart begins to pound and I find my gaze captured by his.
“Trust me,” he begs as his mouth takes mine.
Trust isn’t a word in my vocabulary. All of my life, those I’ve trusted have hurt me and turned from me. There is nothing left in my soul to allow me to trust his Grace, but the monster I harbor inside my heart wants just another taste of this man.
As he pulls me tighter to him, I place my hands on his shoulders. Blood pounds. Lust burns. My pulse roars in my ears. His mouth is firm, but he treats me like crystal. Maybe he senses I’ll shatter at the slightest wrong move. His tongue bathes my bottom lip. He uses my gasp as permission to stroke our tongues together.
My head reels from the taste of him. Angry voices whisper in my mind. I shake, tension seeping into my muscles. He brings our hips together. The pressure of his palm on my scar reminds me of my insanity. The whistle of leather through the air and the crack of the whip against tender skin tears my mind apart. Wrenching away from him, I clench my teeth to keep from crying out.
“Damn.” He steps back.
A drop of blood wells from his lip. Before his finger can touch it, I run. My glimpse of heaven reminds me that my place is in hell.
