The world of the ancients was chaotic, had been for more than a thousand years. Fearing the advent elemental rising the wizard race instigated an elemental genocide, using the unbreadled fiery lusts of the fire elemental Carissa as an excuse they drew the other ancients in. A frenzy of death ensured, none of the races acquited themselves well til no trace of the children of nature could be seen, only then had saner minds prevailed.
Chaos was a dark wizard's tool and their auguries predicted a future where four elemental queens would hold sway over all ancients. Each with the ability to manipulate all the elements, they would be more powerful than anyone has ever been or will ever be.
Saturday 21 May 2011
Thursday 19 May 2011
Elemental queens: Aidanna
Restless.
The magnifient view from his manhattan penthouse did not soothe him, nor did it please him. The best money could buy felt as inadequate as if it were of shelled out filthy hovels.
Many men would kill to have what he had, a triplex situated on the tiered top of a premier buliding it was the height of luxury with the empire state building and other magnifient real estates gracing the skyline. Behind him the dark parquet floor that graced most of the place was covered by a splendid oriental carpet in earth tones. Dark antique furniture blended well with tasteful ultra modern seats to create a warm lived in look. To his right, between the living room and the dining room was an oak and stained glass bar that could be accessed from either room, the one place he patronised when he was here.
He hated the overpriced, well appointed showpiece. It was too big for a single man, a place for a family, but he had none. Had he any brains he would sell the place yet he never could. He craved it as much as he hated it, his sanctuary when he felt adrift as he did now. No one would disturb him here, they had since learned not to try and contact him in any way until he came out. Aside from the neccessary staff he never allowed anyone here and the staff knew not to disturbed the position of even the smallest thing. He needed everything as it was, to hold on to the dream that was gone just a little longer.
Gulping down the remainder of his whiskey, he relished the burn that traced from the back of his throat to the base of his stomach. It reminded him he was alive in a world that had lost its allure against the deadness he felt every waking hour.
The magnifient view from his manhattan penthouse did not soothe him, nor did it please him. The best money could buy felt as inadequate as if it were of shelled out filthy hovels.
Many men would kill to have what he had, a triplex situated on the tiered top of a premier buliding it was the height of luxury with the empire state building and other magnifient real estates gracing the skyline. Behind him the dark parquet floor that graced most of the place was covered by a splendid oriental carpet in earth tones. Dark antique furniture blended well with tasteful ultra modern seats to create a warm lived in look. To his right, between the living room and the dining room was an oak and stained glass bar that could be accessed from either room, the one place he patronised when he was here.
He hated the overpriced, well appointed showpiece. It was too big for a single man, a place for a family, but he had none. Had he any brains he would sell the place yet he never could. He craved it as much as he hated it, his sanctuary when he felt adrift as he did now. No one would disturb him here, they had since learned not to try and contact him in any way until he came out. Aside from the neccessary staff he never allowed anyone here and the staff knew not to disturbed the position of even the smallest thing. He needed everything as it was, to hold on to the dream that was gone just a little longer.
Gulping down the remainder of his whiskey, he relished the burn that traced from the back of his throat to the base of his stomach. It reminded him he was alive in a world that had lost its allure against the deadness he felt every waking hour.
Saturday 14 May 2011
Kale's queen
"We have to go!" Kev hissed.
He knew the other man was right, the danger they were in was all too real but he could not leave, not yet, not without her.
"Go on, I shall find my own way." he replied intent only on what he had to do. His freedom would mean nothing without her.
"Kale?" Kev questioned anxiety and concern in his voice.
He knew the other man was right, the danger they were in was all too real but he could not leave, not yet, not without her.
"Go on, I shall find my own way." he replied intent only on what he had to do. His freedom would mean nothing without her.
"Kale?" Kev questioned anxiety and concern in his voice.
Wednesday 11 May 2011
A Jaguar's mate (part two)
He swore, savage and succinct. The arm across her chest tightened her world spun and she lay in his arms her legs dangling ineffectively.
"Police freeze!" an authoritative voice ordered.
He turned slightly to look over his shoulder affording her one too.
Two burly officers stood behind them, their police issue 30 callibre pistols drawn, their demeanor uncompromising. As brawny as they were though, they could not compared to the man who had her. Still they were armed. Heart soaring she resumed her struggles, straining to speak against his hand.
"Put her down!" the same cop ordered.
They had guns, he had nothing, she was saved! Never again would she cut through the park, not even during the day and a car, she would deposit one first thing tomorrow regardless of the cost. No more stupid mistakes, life was too precious.
And her hope premature, instead of putting her down he ran. Bullets sounded behind them, she screamed in her throat then sheltered against him. His body jerked as one of them found its mark and the tears she had been holding in flowed.
How could they shoot at a hostage?
What if his body had not been big enough to shield her?
Shaking uncontrollably, tears raining down her cheeks she curled into him. Why was this happening to her? She was nothing special, if you discounted the fact that she aged quite well. At fourty-eight she looked like a twenty year old and had no explanation for it. Could that be the reason why he had kidnapped her? Was he going to kill her?
She did not want to die, she had yet to live!
"Everything will be fine Aage, I will not hurt you." he said as he met her eyes with eyes the gentlest aquamarine. He removed his hand from her mouth.
"Please," she sobbed, "let me g-g-go."
"I am sorry I cannot." he sounded sincere.
She cried in earnest, fearful gasps of anguish raking her body.
With extreme tenderness he lifted her to lie on his shoulder, his hand craddling her head as if to keep her safe, ironic when he was the one who threatened her.
Large, absolute trees sorrounded them, monstrocities that had endured man for centuries. If she was to die it was only fitting that it would be in a forest, the one place that held horror for her.
They were already far enough not to hear the sounds of people coming from work, the blaring music and occassional verbal fight. Sirens wailed though, likely searching for her and her kidnapper. The two policemen had seen them enter the forest, given chase but no way could they match the wild man's speed. He was moving too fast to be human and not breaking a sweat, her weight not hindering him in any way.
"Police freeze!" an authoritative voice ordered.
He turned slightly to look over his shoulder affording her one too.
Two burly officers stood behind them, their police issue 30 callibre pistols drawn, their demeanor uncompromising. As brawny as they were though, they could not compared to the man who had her. Still they were armed. Heart soaring she resumed her struggles, straining to speak against his hand.
"Put her down!" the same cop ordered.
They had guns, he had nothing, she was saved! Never again would she cut through the park, not even during the day and a car, she would deposit one first thing tomorrow regardless of the cost. No more stupid mistakes, life was too precious.
And her hope premature, instead of putting her down he ran. Bullets sounded behind them, she screamed in her throat then sheltered against him. His body jerked as one of them found its mark and the tears she had been holding in flowed.
How could they shoot at a hostage?
What if his body had not been big enough to shield her?
Shaking uncontrollably, tears raining down her cheeks she curled into him. Why was this happening to her? She was nothing special, if you discounted the fact that she aged quite well. At fourty-eight she looked like a twenty year old and had no explanation for it. Could that be the reason why he had kidnapped her? Was he going to kill her?
She did not want to die, she had yet to live!
"Everything will be fine Aage, I will not hurt you." he said as he met her eyes with eyes the gentlest aquamarine. He removed his hand from her mouth.
"Please," she sobbed, "let me g-g-go."
"I am sorry I cannot." he sounded sincere.
She cried in earnest, fearful gasps of anguish raking her body.
With extreme tenderness he lifted her to lie on his shoulder, his hand craddling her head as if to keep her safe, ironic when he was the one who threatened her.
Large, absolute trees sorrounded them, monstrocities that had endured man for centuries. If she was to die it was only fitting that it would be in a forest, the one place that held horror for her.
They were already far enough not to hear the sounds of people coming from work, the blaring music and occassional verbal fight. Sirens wailed though, likely searching for her and her kidnapper. The two policemen had seen them enter the forest, given chase but no way could they match the wild man's speed. He was moving too fast to be human and not breaking a sweat, her weight not hindering him in any way.
Monday 9 May 2011
A Jaguar's mate
Ch 1
With the stillness of a statue he stood. Imobile as if petrified his eyes, though scarcely blinking, the only sign he was not a wax model. Their intensity was frightening, inhuman, searing into anything foolish enough to gaze into them, thankfully it was too dark that few passed through. Upon seeing him they scurried away, chilled by a touch of something beyond what they knew, even the women who gave him an apreciative once over still hurried away.
He barely noticed, concentrating on the intoxicating scent that was the single thread to his sanity. A warm blanket upon the chaotic distruction his mind had long decayed into, the one tenuous grip shielding the many innocent from the agonising death he would bring.
She passed here frequently, her scent stronger than anywhere else -as fresh as that morning- he noted. He would wait for her to come by, too weak to chase her down but unable to concentrate on anything but her. Most likely she passed through to and from her work and would soon be by.
His blood churned, need throbing through him at the thought of burrying himself inside her, claiming her after decades of being denied her mere presence. Sweet heat soothing his anguished memories whilst he repeatedly drove into her.
A groan sounded low in his throat, more a growl, as his already hard body hardened even more. Years without any warmth or human touch enflamed his desire. With unsatisfactory images of her across a screen, a silhouette of her ambrosial body, charcoal grey eyes, luscious full lips incredibly long dark hair, creamed coffie skin he had had to suffice. Knowing his debilitating need for her his captors had gone as far as to bring a sweater of hers to his torture chamber. Soaked in her blood, the man who had brought it had casually anounced her death.
He had gone mad. Completely insane, raging and yanking against his chains uncaring as the iron cut into his flesh. For days he had raged, until he had remembered the scent of ice in the blood.
They had collected enough blood from her over time just to toment him! Pretending anguish, he had savoured her scent, wraped it around his being, letting it soothe his broken spirit. Until they had realised his ruse.
He would hurt her, regreatable but inevitable. A taste of her would bring him back to himself and that was paramount, he could not allow himself to hurt other innocents. Wildflowers under the summer sun, that was her scent, with a femininity all her own. She was near and alone. Anger rose in him at her idiocy, even without his kind the park was dangerous at night. She would never make that mistake again after he was done with her.
Fatigue cloaked her, aching her joints and back. She needed rest, a good day of doing nothing more strenuous than fixing her meals. Thank goodness tomorrow was her day off and she could do just that. She loved her new job, would not trade it for anything, but it could be very tiring. A pleasant kind of tiring though, muscles sweetly aching, her heart full with the knowledge she had done an excellent job. It had been a great idea to move, she would have to remember to thank Kev for talking her into it.
Speaking of Kev, he would not be happy with her walking the park at this time of night. No doubt he had already called half a dozen times and was now camped at her front door or coming to intercept her. It was comforting how protective he was, though he tended to be extreme at times.
Looking around at the dark tree lined part of the walkway she was on, Aage suddenly wished she had called him. He wouldn't have minded and she wouldn't have to face the danger she was certain she was in. Her instincts screamed for her to run even though she was sure it would be futile.
Unable to take another step she stopped. Carefully, as if not to court the danger, she started to backtrack, that was when he appeared from behind the tree.
She froze.
He was big! Tall. At least six five, towering over her five foot seven. Muscles rippled on every plane of his body, shoulders so broad no burden could bow them flowed into an expansive chest which tappered into slender hips and... Oh!
He was completely naked! An impressive, long, thick, erect shaft jutted out, so hard and...and impressive!
Wide, fearful eyes flew to his.
She gasped.
Eyes afire, all consuming, steely with no hint that compassion had ever touched their depths held hers. The eyes of a ruthless predator, one who had found his prey!
Before she had moved a muscle to obey the instinct burning in her he was upon her. Her intentions devined. A strong hand cut off the impulsive scream before she made a sound. Horrified she stared at the blood covered iron manacle on his wrist, a thick chain falling from it. She could feel the other bitting into her side where his immovable hand held her to him.
"Shhh Aage, I will not hurt you" he whispered, a low inhuman growl.
Did he expect her to believe him? And how did he know her name?
She kicked him.
With the stillness of a statue he stood. Imobile as if petrified his eyes, though scarcely blinking, the only sign he was not a wax model. Their intensity was frightening, inhuman, searing into anything foolish enough to gaze into them, thankfully it was too dark that few passed through. Upon seeing him they scurried away, chilled by a touch of something beyond what they knew, even the women who gave him an apreciative once over still hurried away.
He barely noticed, concentrating on the intoxicating scent that was the single thread to his sanity. A warm blanket upon the chaotic distruction his mind had long decayed into, the one tenuous grip shielding the many innocent from the agonising death he would bring.
She passed here frequently, her scent stronger than anywhere else -as fresh as that morning- he noted. He would wait for her to come by, too weak to chase her down but unable to concentrate on anything but her. Most likely she passed through to and from her work and would soon be by.
His blood churned, need throbing through him at the thought of burrying himself inside her, claiming her after decades of being denied her mere presence. Sweet heat soothing his anguished memories whilst he repeatedly drove into her.
A groan sounded low in his throat, more a growl, as his already hard body hardened even more. Years without any warmth or human touch enflamed his desire. With unsatisfactory images of her across a screen, a silhouette of her ambrosial body, charcoal grey eyes, luscious full lips incredibly long dark hair, creamed coffie skin he had had to suffice. Knowing his debilitating need for her his captors had gone as far as to bring a sweater of hers to his torture chamber. Soaked in her blood, the man who had brought it had casually anounced her death.
He had gone mad. Completely insane, raging and yanking against his chains uncaring as the iron cut into his flesh. For days he had raged, until he had remembered the scent of ice in the blood.
They had collected enough blood from her over time just to toment him! Pretending anguish, he had savoured her scent, wraped it around his being, letting it soothe his broken spirit. Until they had realised his ruse.
He would hurt her, regreatable but inevitable. A taste of her would bring him back to himself and that was paramount, he could not allow himself to hurt other innocents. Wildflowers under the summer sun, that was her scent, with a femininity all her own. She was near and alone. Anger rose in him at her idiocy, even without his kind the park was dangerous at night. She would never make that mistake again after he was done with her.
Fatigue cloaked her, aching her joints and back. She needed rest, a good day of doing nothing more strenuous than fixing her meals. Thank goodness tomorrow was her day off and she could do just that. She loved her new job, would not trade it for anything, but it could be very tiring. A pleasant kind of tiring though, muscles sweetly aching, her heart full with the knowledge she had done an excellent job. It had been a great idea to move, she would have to remember to thank Kev for talking her into it.
Speaking of Kev, he would not be happy with her walking the park at this time of night. No doubt he had already called half a dozen times and was now camped at her front door or coming to intercept her. It was comforting how protective he was, though he tended to be extreme at times.
Looking around at the dark tree lined part of the walkway she was on, Aage suddenly wished she had called him. He wouldn't have minded and she wouldn't have to face the danger she was certain she was in. Her instincts screamed for her to run even though she was sure it would be futile.
Unable to take another step she stopped. Carefully, as if not to court the danger, she started to backtrack, that was when he appeared from behind the tree.
She froze.
He was big! Tall. At least six five, towering over her five foot seven. Muscles rippled on every plane of his body, shoulders so broad no burden could bow them flowed into an expansive chest which tappered into slender hips and... Oh!
He was completely naked! An impressive, long, thick, erect shaft jutted out, so hard and...and impressive!
Wide, fearful eyes flew to his.
She gasped.
Eyes afire, all consuming, steely with no hint that compassion had ever touched their depths held hers. The eyes of a ruthless predator, one who had found his prey!
Before she had moved a muscle to obey the instinct burning in her he was upon her. Her intentions devined. A strong hand cut off the impulsive scream before she made a sound. Horrified she stared at the blood covered iron manacle on his wrist, a thick chain falling from it. She could feel the other bitting into her side where his immovable hand held her to him.
"Shhh Aage, I will not hurt you" he whispered, a low inhuman growl.
Did he expect her to believe him? And how did he know her name?
She kicked him.
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