Tuesday 21 June 2011
Friday 10 June 2011
Shattered not broken book
"Why do we have to use the back door again?" Luc asked.
"Abused women do not appreciate men walking about their sanctuary, especially well built men like us." Mac suplied.
"Makes sense but I thought the place was guarded by our kind?"
Mac gave a scornful snort, "The mortals have never been able to see us when we do not want them to."
"Abused women do not appreciate men walking about their sanctuary, especially well built men like us." Mac suplied.
"Makes sense but I thought the place was guarded by our kind?"
Mac gave a scornful snort, "The mortals have never been able to see us when we do not want them to."
Love in the mirror: Shattered not broken book
Excitement surged through her blood, the toe curling, stomach crunching kind she had only ever read about. Feverish, delectable sensations coursing down her spine and across her skin with sizzling regularity while she sat as still as she possibly could. It was all she could do not to jump up and down shouting for all she was worth. That would give it all away though, ruin the night's plans. If her parents realised how excited she was she would never get to go and she would do anything to avoid that. So she sat still, demure and proper, eating a meal she hardly tasted. It had gone on forever, the usual bland conversations drier than ever and they were in heaven. Aunt Karen even contributed to it, agreeing to something her father had said and her mother had beemed. Caitlin knew her aunt hated the unstimulating talk as much as she did and was only being agreeable for one reason, the same reason she herself sat so still. Not to give daddy a reason to cancel their night out. Of course there was still Cassandra. Even though her twin would rather die than hang out with aunt Karen, her words, she loved nothing better than depriving Cait of the little pleasures she found in life, and they were few, seeing aunt Karen being one of them.
Saturday 4 June 2011
Fighting love: Shattered not broken book
Unsatisfied, as usual.
Would anything ever relieve this insatiable, inceassant, burning ache inside her? A constant emptiness that nothing could fill, certainly not the surrounding opulence, the beautiful wealthy males she dated or even the rough characters she bedded. She needed it rough, craved the feeling of crude hands griping her thighs as the usually well endowed male took her with little regard. She needed to feel pain/pleasure for her to cum, ached to be punished and treated as if she was just a piece of flesh. Her therapist said it was an unhealthy response to her controlled upbringing and life, she didn't know the half of it.
If society knew about her slumming ways they would not be so eager to court her aquitance. As their reigning princess she was the one to know and emmulate, raised to be exactly what she was. Never a hair out of place or a foot wrongly placed her public persona was pure perfection and a cloying prison. Andrew Townsend demanded it of his children and the punishment for disobedience was unbearable. Her father could be trusted to come up with the most demeaning ways to subject his will on his children whom he kept leashed. How she longed to completely break free of the man.
Today however would not be that day. She had a charity ball to plan and little time to do so.
Getting up she walked to her bathroom, stoping long enough to check her reflection, well toned, her skin pale, smooth and flawless, full and pert breasts with a smothly curved petit figure. She knew she was beautiful
Would anything ever relieve this insatiable, inceassant, burning ache inside her? A constant emptiness that nothing could fill, certainly not the surrounding opulence, the beautiful wealthy males she dated or even the rough characters she bedded. She needed it rough, craved the feeling of crude hands griping her thighs as the usually well endowed male took her with little regard. She needed to feel pain/pleasure for her to cum, ached to be punished and treated as if she was just a piece of flesh. Her therapist said it was an unhealthy response to her controlled upbringing and life, she didn't know the half of it.
If society knew about her slumming ways they would not be so eager to court her aquitance. As their reigning princess she was the one to know and emmulate, raised to be exactly what she was. Never a hair out of place or a foot wrongly placed her public persona was pure perfection and a cloying prison. Andrew Townsend demanded it of his children and the punishment for disobedience was unbearable. Her father could be trusted to come up with the most demeaning ways to subject his will on his children whom he kept leashed. How she longed to completely break free of the man.
Today however would not be that day. She had a charity ball to plan and little time to do so.
Getting up she walked to her bathroom, stoping long enough to check her reflection, well toned, her skin pale, smooth and flawless, full and pert breasts with a smothly curved petit figure. She knew she was beautiful
Friday 3 June 2011
Finding love: Shattered not broken
Prologue
Seated in a cramped booth in a rundown diner somewhere in the southwestern United states with little money and no place to stay Shanti wondered if life could get any worse. She had thought the land of opportunity would afford a better life but as yet nothing had been as planned. The advert she had answered had requested an unmarried, relatively well educated woman between the ages of 25 to 35 from the northern mountain region of India to teach preschoolers in a small Indian community. She was 26 with the best education a village girl could ever hope for, had been divorced for a year and had not thought to inform them of the latter. Nor had she though the fact that she was half Aryan and half Dravidian important. It had been.
In the three months she had been in communication with her prospective imployers they had been highly impressed with her command of English, her ability to speak five of their native languages and her knowledge of the basic subjects. Living in a relatively affluent, predominantly Indian surburb north of Seattle they wanted a trusted Indian to teach their children within the parameters of their culture. What they had not explained was that in specifying the northern mountains they had wanted a sheltered Aryan woman, the age group meant she would be unattractive enough not to be married despite her education. Shanti knew, without being vain, she was beautiful. She had her mother's hazel eyes, her rich, flawless amber skin was intermediate of the two and her hair was Dravidian curly. Tall and slender with womanly curves she was as exortic as an Indian woman was likely to be. The Mrs Singhs had not been pleased.
She had wondered while at home why her plane landed in New Mexico when Seattle was more than a thousand kilometres away and they had been dismissive, not today. Mrs Shahruk Singh had coldly told her, after they had suppossedly stopped for dinner, that middle of nowhere New Mexico was where they dumped opportunistic villagers who thought to lie their way to America. It truly was the middle of nowhere. Situated in the desert the small town of Solida was no more than a street on which the most basic stores stood with the diner at the edge. She did not see any industry about to explain its existence but judging from those in the diner a significant number of people lived here.
Nothing she had said had made a difference and the two had calausly left her there.
Dusk had settled, the lights already lit against the encroaching darkness. Outside the wispy clouds blazed crimson and orange as the barely past the horizon sun gave them its last kiss. The flatness of the desert gradually disappeared as she watched. It was all foreign to her, used as she was to the tree shrouded mountains of her homeland. She was out of place here, not only in this land but in the slowly filling diner. The patrons were mostly white with a couple of mexicans and one black woman and except for a couple of women, a teenage girl and the waitresses in short skirts they were all wearing tight jeans, tops, shirts and cowboy boots. In her flowered pink kurtar and deep pink chiridar she stuck out like a sore thumb and they all noticed. Their eyes on her compounded her helplessness, they would be going home to their loved and she had the barren cold to look forward to.
"Honey you ain't the first." a kind feminine voice drawled.
Looking up she saw the patroness standing besides her, a kindly matron with streaked brown hair and a glint of steel in her eyes.
"Excuse me?" Shanti asked.
The woman squeezed herself into the bench across from her then met her eyes with compassion. "The Mrs Singhs, they left another young lady up in Conner's Creek two hours ride from here 'bout four months back. Poor gal nearly cried her eyes out having nowhere to go and little money."
Shanti stared at her horrified at what was implied, surely the Mrs Singhs did not make a habit of this!
"Two months before 'twas a young man in Santa Esteva and those are just the ones we know about." A man in a booth across from them put in.
"But why would they do that?" she asked
"Honey people do strange things all the time." the patroness replied with a shake of her head. "I have a room above the diner, its not much but you can use it 'til you figure out what to do. Do you know anyone in the states?"
Shanti shook her head, no one from her village or any of her many relatives had ever come here. Not that they would have taken her in given her disgrace. The patroness, Emma, pated her hand with a smile.
"The Shepards are going up there north ain't they?" a grizzled old man asked
"Yes to Seattle actually, but Freddy Castais you cannot expect her to go to the Singhs!"
" 'Course not," the old man's wrinkled face creased even more with anoyance. "There's that there fancy place at the foot of the Cascades for women." he explained proudly head up and eyes bright.
"She ain't battered." a rough looking cowboy put in.
Freddy scrowled even more, "It
Seated in a cramped booth in a rundown diner somewhere in the southwestern United states with little money and no place to stay Shanti wondered if life could get any worse. She had thought the land of opportunity would afford a better life but as yet nothing had been as planned. The advert she had answered had requested an unmarried, relatively well educated woman between the ages of 25 to 35 from the northern mountain region of India to teach preschoolers in a small Indian community. She was 26 with the best education a village girl could ever hope for, had been divorced for a year and had not thought to inform them of the latter. Nor had she though the fact that she was half Aryan and half Dravidian important. It had been.
In the three months she had been in communication with her prospective imployers they had been highly impressed with her command of English, her ability to speak five of their native languages and her knowledge of the basic subjects. Living in a relatively affluent, predominantly Indian surburb north of Seattle they wanted a trusted Indian to teach their children within the parameters of their culture. What they had not explained was that in specifying the northern mountains they had wanted a sheltered Aryan woman, the age group meant she would be unattractive enough not to be married despite her education. Shanti knew, without being vain, she was beautiful. She had her mother's hazel eyes, her rich, flawless amber skin was intermediate of the two and her hair was Dravidian curly. Tall and slender with womanly curves she was as exortic as an Indian woman was likely to be. The Mrs Singhs had not been pleased.
She had wondered while at home why her plane landed in New Mexico when Seattle was more than a thousand kilometres away and they had been dismissive, not today. Mrs Shahruk Singh had coldly told her, after they had suppossedly stopped for dinner, that middle of nowhere New Mexico was where they dumped opportunistic villagers who thought to lie their way to America. It truly was the middle of nowhere. Situated in the desert the small town of Solida was no more than a street on which the most basic stores stood with the diner at the edge. She did not see any industry about to explain its existence but judging from those in the diner a significant number of people lived here.
Nothing she had said had made a difference and the two had calausly left her there.
Dusk had settled, the lights already lit against the encroaching darkness. Outside the wispy clouds blazed crimson and orange as the barely past the horizon sun gave them its last kiss. The flatness of the desert gradually disappeared as she watched. It was all foreign to her, used as she was to the tree shrouded mountains of her homeland. She was out of place here, not only in this land but in the slowly filling diner. The patrons were mostly white with a couple of mexicans and one black woman and except for a couple of women, a teenage girl and the waitresses in short skirts they were all wearing tight jeans, tops, shirts and cowboy boots. In her flowered pink kurtar and deep pink chiridar she stuck out like a sore thumb and they all noticed. Their eyes on her compounded her helplessness, they would be going home to their loved and she had the barren cold to look forward to.
"Honey you ain't the first." a kind feminine voice drawled.
Looking up she saw the patroness standing besides her, a kindly matron with streaked brown hair and a glint of steel in her eyes.
"Excuse me?" Shanti asked.
The woman squeezed herself into the bench across from her then met her eyes with compassion. "The Mrs Singhs, they left another young lady up in Conner's Creek two hours ride from here 'bout four months back. Poor gal nearly cried her eyes out having nowhere to go and little money."
Shanti stared at her horrified at what was implied, surely the Mrs Singhs did not make a habit of this!
"Two months before 'twas a young man in Santa Esteva and those are just the ones we know about." A man in a booth across from them put in.
"But why would they do that?" she asked
"Honey people do strange things all the time." the patroness replied with a shake of her head. "I have a room above the diner, its not much but you can use it 'til you figure out what to do. Do you know anyone in the states?"
Shanti shook her head, no one from her village or any of her many relatives had ever come here. Not that they would have taken her in given her disgrace. The patroness, Emma, pated her hand with a smile.
"The Shepards are going up there north ain't they?" a grizzled old man asked
"Yes to Seattle actually, but Freddy Castais you cannot expect her to go to the Singhs!"
" 'Course not," the old man's wrinkled face creased even more with anoyance. "There's that there fancy place at the foot of the Cascades for women." he explained proudly head up and eyes bright.
"She ain't battered." a rough looking cowboy put in.
Freddy scrowled even more, "It
Wednesday 1 June 2011
Trusting love
"If you ever need me, regardless of where you are or the time of day, call me." Trevyn had said and Trev always kept his promises to her. In the year she had known him he had never let her down.
Why had she not trusted him? Mostly why had she not listened to him?
"He is going to kill you if you stay." he had recently stated.
"No," she had replied with stubborn defiance "He loves me!"
"I would never lay a finger on you, not like that." his midnight eyes had been intent upon her, a look she had seen before with the same effect.
Her heart missed a beat before racing, a tingle raced down her spine, curled around her stomach and exploded in delicious fireworks.
That was why she had never listened, his interest in her.
Her core creamed at the velvet tone of his musical, molten voice, the heat in her stomach settling on that lusty part of her. That made her angry, she was not a slut who lusted after another man when she was in a committed relationship!
"Mom said never trust a man who wants to get into your pants by trashing your man."
"Hence the crude phrasing." he stated dryly, suppressed anger burning in his voice.
She gasped, hurt. She knew her mother was rough around the edges but that was uncalled for, the woman had worked herself half to death so that her daughter could have a future, she deserved better. Fear stopped her from hitting him or scratching his eyes out, he was so big and if he turned on her she would not survive.
"You always listen to her do you not? Even to the point of staying with a man who uses you as a punching bag." he grated, violence brimming in his eyes. She was immobilized as he stalked near, her eyes wide on him. Framing her face he touched his forehead to hers.
"You make me so furious, so angry, still I would not hurt you for the world." he gritted his teeth. "A white man is not the one beating you"
His body almost touched hers, so strong and well defined, heat that magnetized her body. He was so tall she had to crane to look into his eyes, their ardent depths mesmerized, aroused and scared her. He was so intense, his model perfect face frozen with unbearable need and love, love as clear as day, so fierce and irrevocable. How could he feel that way about her and why? He had everything he could want, rich, cultured and so sexy he was every woman's fantasy. And she was just a white man's black bastard unworthy of any acknowledgement.
She pulled away from his tender touch shaking her head as tears flowed down her cheek. "I love Ray and he loves me!" she stated in a pain filled voice. "If you cannot accept that then I want you out of my life."
His face hardened, eyes devoid of anything pinned her to her spot. "That might be for the best." he agreed, cold and remote.
Pain laced through her heart and she had to fight hard for him not to see how much it hurt, she had not thought he would cut himself from her life, obviously he did not love her as he claimed. Well he had never really said he loved her, she had just inferred that from his words and thought she saw it in his eyes, that was just her mistake not his. Her heart bled, evidently he meant more to her than she had thought but now it was too late.
That had been three weeks ago and now his words were coming true, Ray was going to kill her. He had said that before as he beat her but the look on his face had not been as it was now nor had he beat her in this way. Tied to the table leg she lay on her back on the wooden floor, the floor she had always kept army boot shiny, unable to move as her legs were broken. He was now concentrating on her face, sitting on her broken ribs and shouting profanities as he punched her.
Trev had most likely meant to call him on his phone but realizing Ray meant to kill her this time and unable to get to a phone she had started to scream his name. Ray had assumed he was a lover and had been even more enraged, kicking at her ribs with his hunting boots it was a wonder her broken ribs had not punctured her lungs.
She could no longer shout but she still moaned the name of the one man who had never let her down, who had loved her intensely for a few precious moments before she had ruined it all for the monster who was now killing her. She wanted to die with Trevyn's face on her mind, the love she had never dared to feel filling her heart.
Why had it been so hard to love him when she had had the chance? He would never have done this to her and she had let her mother's bad experience with her father taint her and yet fall for the same kind of man. Had she really loved Ray, or had she just taken up with a man most like her father whilst fooling herself on the pretense of race?
She prayed for another chance at life, a change to love the man who was as dangerous as he was gentle. Power radiated from every plane of his lithe frame, confidence she had envied. He was easy to be around, she could talk about anything with him and be whatever she wanted- he had encouraged her- and she had started to let go.
Trevyn." she cried weakly fighting to stay awake, to hold on hoping that by some miracle he would show up. It was irrational but she held on. Every breath was excruciating, aggravating her ribs, his weight upon her squeezing her lungs.
A crash sounded nearby vibrating through her skin more than it registered in her ears. She wondered if Ray had broken the table, though her hands were still tied to its leg and he had not stopped pounding at her.
A snarl of rage re vibrated through the room, too guttural to come from a human and so chilling. Had she not been so close to death she would have braved the pain and ran, Ray would not be killing her after all, whatever animal had invaded her home would do the job. Only she would be attacked when she was already dying, her unhappy fate prevailed.
A dark shadow bawled into Ray knocking him off her. The fear she had felt as Ray hit her was nothing compared to the terror she experienced as she listened to his screams. Horror and pain laced his voice and the animal snarls mingled with it to create a waking nightmare. She wanted to turn and see what was happening but agonizing pain precluded that.
Wolves. Their scent overpowered the coppery scent of her blood and terror. They were all around her, at least a half dozen. Two bracketed her to go where Ray lay gibbering and another sat besides her. Its eyes upon her were strangely intelligent, aware of her, she gave up the fight and blacked out.
***
A pleasant breeze wafted off the coast onto the terrace dinning area, pleasantly cool in the 98 degree weather.
Why had she not trusted him? Mostly why had she not listened to him?
"He is going to kill you if you stay." he had recently stated.
"No," she had replied with stubborn defiance "He loves me!"
"I would never lay a finger on you, not like that." his midnight eyes had been intent upon her, a look she had seen before with the same effect.
Her heart missed a beat before racing, a tingle raced down her spine, curled around her stomach and exploded in delicious fireworks.
That was why she had never listened, his interest in her.
Her core creamed at the velvet tone of his musical, molten voice, the heat in her stomach settling on that lusty part of her. That made her angry, she was not a slut who lusted after another man when she was in a committed relationship!
"Mom said never trust a man who wants to get into your pants by trashing your man."
"Hence the crude phrasing." he stated dryly, suppressed anger burning in his voice.
She gasped, hurt. She knew her mother was rough around the edges but that was uncalled for, the woman had worked herself half to death so that her daughter could have a future, she deserved better. Fear stopped her from hitting him or scratching his eyes out, he was so big and if he turned on her she would not survive.
"You always listen to her do you not? Even to the point of staying with a man who uses you as a punching bag." he grated, violence brimming in his eyes. She was immobilized as he stalked near, her eyes wide on him. Framing her face he touched his forehead to hers.
"You make me so furious, so angry, still I would not hurt you for the world." he gritted his teeth. "A white man is not the one beating you"
His body almost touched hers, so strong and well defined, heat that magnetized her body. He was so tall she had to crane to look into his eyes, their ardent depths mesmerized, aroused and scared her. He was so intense, his model perfect face frozen with unbearable need and love, love as clear as day, so fierce and irrevocable. How could he feel that way about her and why? He had everything he could want, rich, cultured and so sexy he was every woman's fantasy. And she was just a white man's black bastard unworthy of any acknowledgement.
She pulled away from his tender touch shaking her head as tears flowed down her cheek. "I love Ray and he loves me!" she stated in a pain filled voice. "If you cannot accept that then I want you out of my life."
His face hardened, eyes devoid of anything pinned her to her spot. "That might be for the best." he agreed, cold and remote.
Pain laced through her heart and she had to fight hard for him not to see how much it hurt, she had not thought he would cut himself from her life, obviously he did not love her as he claimed. Well he had never really said he loved her, she had just inferred that from his words and thought she saw it in his eyes, that was just her mistake not his. Her heart bled, evidently he meant more to her than she had thought but now it was too late.
That had been three weeks ago and now his words were coming true, Ray was going to kill her. He had said that before as he beat her but the look on his face had not been as it was now nor had he beat her in this way. Tied to the table leg she lay on her back on the wooden floor, the floor she had always kept army boot shiny, unable to move as her legs were broken. He was now concentrating on her face, sitting on her broken ribs and shouting profanities as he punched her.
Trev had most likely meant to call him on his phone but realizing Ray meant to kill her this time and unable to get to a phone she had started to scream his name. Ray had assumed he was a lover and had been even more enraged, kicking at her ribs with his hunting boots it was a wonder her broken ribs had not punctured her lungs.
She could no longer shout but she still moaned the name of the one man who had never let her down, who had loved her intensely for a few precious moments before she had ruined it all for the monster who was now killing her. She wanted to die with Trevyn's face on her mind, the love she had never dared to feel filling her heart.
Why had it been so hard to love him when she had had the chance? He would never have done this to her and she had let her mother's bad experience with her father taint her and yet fall for the same kind of man. Had she really loved Ray, or had she just taken up with a man most like her father whilst fooling herself on the pretense of race?
She prayed for another chance at life, a change to love the man who was as dangerous as he was gentle. Power radiated from every plane of his lithe frame, confidence she had envied. He was easy to be around, she could talk about anything with him and be whatever she wanted- he had encouraged her- and she had started to let go.
Trevyn." she cried weakly fighting to stay awake, to hold on hoping that by some miracle he would show up. It was irrational but she held on. Every breath was excruciating, aggravating her ribs, his weight upon her squeezing her lungs.
A crash sounded nearby vibrating through her skin more than it registered in her ears. She wondered if Ray had broken the table, though her hands were still tied to its leg and he had not stopped pounding at her.
A snarl of rage re vibrated through the room, too guttural to come from a human and so chilling. Had she not been so close to death she would have braved the pain and ran, Ray would not be killing her after all, whatever animal had invaded her home would do the job. Only she would be attacked when she was already dying, her unhappy fate prevailed.
A dark shadow bawled into Ray knocking him off her. The fear she had felt as Ray hit her was nothing compared to the terror she experienced as she listened to his screams. Horror and pain laced his voice and the animal snarls mingled with it to create a waking nightmare. She wanted to turn and see what was happening but agonizing pain precluded that.
Wolves. Their scent overpowered the coppery scent of her blood and terror. They were all around her, at least a half dozen. Two bracketed her to go where Ray lay gibbering and another sat besides her. Its eyes upon her were strangely intelligent, aware of her, she gave up the fight and blacked out.
***
A pleasant breeze wafted off the coast onto the terrace dinning area, pleasantly cool in the 98 degree weather.
Cont...
"Trevyn." she cried weakly fighting to stay awake, to hold on hoping that by some miracle he would show up. It was irrational but she held on. Every breath was excrutiating, aggravating her ribs, his weight upon her squezzing her lungs.
A crash sounded nearby vibrating through her skin more than it registered in her ears. She wondered if Ray had broken the table, though her hands were still tied to its leg and he had not stopped pounding at her.
A snarl of rage revibrated through the room, too guttural to come from a human and so chilling. Had she not been so close to death she would have braved the pain and ran, Ray would not be killing her after all, whatever animal had invaded her home would do the job. Only she would be attacked when she was already dying, her unhappy fate prevailed.
A dark shadow bawled into Ray knocking him off her. The fear she had felt as Ray hit her was nothing compared to the terror she experienced as she listened to his screams. Horror and pain laced his voice and the animal snarls mingled with it to create a waking nightmare. She wanted to turn and see what was happening but agonising pain precluded that.
Wolves. Their scent overpowered the coppery scent of her blood and terror. They were all around her, at least a half dozen. Two bracketed her to go where Ray lay gibbering and another sat besides her. Its eyes upon her were strangely intelligent, aware of her, she gave up the fight and blacked out.
***
A pleasant breeze waffed off the coast onto the terrace dinning area, pleasantly cool in the 98 degree weather.
A crash sounded nearby vibrating through her skin more than it registered in her ears. She wondered if Ray had broken the table, though her hands were still tied to its leg and he had not stopped pounding at her.
A snarl of rage revibrated through the room, too guttural to come from a human and so chilling. Had she not been so close to death she would have braved the pain and ran, Ray would not be killing her after all, whatever animal had invaded her home would do the job. Only she would be attacked when she was already dying, her unhappy fate prevailed.
A dark shadow bawled into Ray knocking him off her. The fear she had felt as Ray hit her was nothing compared to the terror she experienced as she listened to his screams. Horror and pain laced his voice and the animal snarls mingled with it to create a waking nightmare. She wanted to turn and see what was happening but agonising pain precluded that.
Wolves. Their scent overpowered the coppery scent of her blood and terror. They were all around her, at least a half dozen. Two bracketed her to go where Ray lay gibbering and another sat besides her. Its eyes upon her were strangely intelligent, aware of her, she gave up the fight and blacked out.
***
A pleasant breeze waffed off the coast onto the terrace dinning area, pleasantly cool in the 98 degree weather.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)