Saturday, June 28, 2014

Windshield Incident 3 eBook Available

On the anniversary of Part 2, the 3rd installment of The Windshield Incident is now published and available for download. It's here on Smashwords, and will eventually show up on Apple, Kindle, Nook, and other partnered eBook retail sites. It's like buying me a quarter cup of coffee to keep me alert and typing.
Fun fact: The background colors correspond to Grant's mental and emotional state.
Guess what color Part 4 will be.

Thursday, June 26, 2014

Power Plays

This story is fucking weird, and in my head the aftermath is drawn out and dark. I'm not sorry.
 "Excuse me?" Chrisette's slender eyes widen in disbelief. "Did I just hear you forbid me from seeing him?"


Should I have just kept my mouth shut? "I'm just saying maybe don't hang out one-on-one."

"Are you kidding me?!"

In a way this is a variation on a theme. I think she's allowing herself to be drawn into a second relationship, she thinks I'm just jealous. I spread my hands. "What kind of a guy takes another—" I don't even finish before Chrisette groans in frustration "—man's fiancĂ©e on a date?"

"It wasn't a date!"

"Certainly not a business lunch."

Chrisette folds her arms. "I invited you along. You said you didn't want to go."

"I said I didn't want to see the movie," I correct. "I thought you would go with Sasha or somebody."

"So you're mad because I went with 'somebody,'" she scoffs.

"No, I'm mad because you can't seem to understand that you're essentially cheating on me—"

"Oh my god!"

"—without the sex! It was dinner and a movie and he paid. That's a fucking date! You're about to marry me, and you're dating him."

This was probably the wrong thing to say, because Chrisette jumps off the couch. Is she looking for something to throw at me? "I cannot believe you don't even trust me."

"It's not that I don't trust you," I backpedal. "I don't trust him. That asshole is just waiting for the big fight when you come crying to him, and he finally gets to fuck you while looking like the hero."

I didn't backpedal far enough. Chrisette puts a hand on her hip. "I don't fuck anyone I don't want to fuck," she says through her teeth, "and you should be fucking grateful that I chose you. Nobody's going to be 'seducing' me. Especially not Todd."

Taking a deep breath, I lower my voice. "Please, baby, work with me. I know how guys think. Especially single guys."

"Todd is just a friend," she says, each word getting louder. "He's only single because Emily was a crazy bitch and they broke up. We are not interested in each other." She gives me a speculative look. "Would you be this mad if he were ugly? Like if he didn't dress well, or was a complete Elephant Man."

"Yes! It's not about the whole…" I gesture at my own face, which I hadn't worried about until now. "It's that he is single right now, and that you don't think he's ugly, and you call him when you're mad at me…" Why didn't I shut up? Chrisette's eyes have practically narrowed to slits.

"So I," she says slowly, "can't recognize that one of my friends is handsome, but you can jack off to porn every time I'm gone for more than twelve hours?"

"Baby, that was once—"

Chrisette cuts me off. "Do not. Bullshit me."

It was once, and I had made the mistake of confessing when she jokingly asked. "Chrisette, come on. Just work with me here."

"Work with you? Work with you?!"

I'm on a slippery slope now, and as much as I know I should placate her and save it for later, I try one more time to make Chrisette understand. "This is exactly what he wants! You're telling me, 'Oh, there's nothing to worry about. Oh, we're just friends,' but that's exactly how you and I started!"

"I wasn't dating anybody when I met you!" she yells. Chrisette takes a deep breath, shuts her eyes for a second, and gives me the coldest look I've ever seen from her. "I am leaving," she says. Damn. It. "I might come back tonight, but I might not be back until tomorrow. But I will not be off fucking anybody else, and I will not be masturbating to the sight of fake-tittied botte blondes getting fucked by monster cocks."

"Chrisette—"

She cuts me off with a sharp hand gesture. "I can't deal with you right now. If you want to be a fucking jealous paranoid idiot, do it on your own time. I'll come back when you've cooled down."

I want to tell her that I'm cool, that I'm not paranoid, that I can definitely be dealt with…all of it sticks to the roof of my mouth as I watch her put her laptop in a bag with her toothbrush. If she goes to her mom's house I am toast. I'll be in the doghouse for a week, because her mom thinks Chrisette could do better.

It's only five minutes before I've sent her the first text. Baby, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gone off like that. No response. Has she gone to complain to her mother, or to that motherfucker as a "fuck you" to me? I send another. Please just call me.

The lock clicks about an hour later. I haven't moved from the couch, so I'm halfway to the door with an apology on my lips when Todd walks in.

"Oh, hey man," he says casually, striding past me down the hall. "Chrissy asked me to get her phone charger."

Shit. She went to her mom's. I follow Todd into the bedroom, my bedroom, and watch him unplug Chrisette's charger from beneath the desk. "Is she with you?" I ask, trying not to clench my teeth. Count to three. Slowly.

Todd dangles his keyring in front of me. "Nah, she called and asked 'cause I've been working on a house two blocks down. I just used my key."

My brains goes haywire for a second. His key? Did he steal a key and have it copied? That's illegal, right? Would Chrisette defend me or him if I pressed charges? Maybe some of my thoughts are visible on my face, because Todd spreads his hands in a whoa, there gesture.

"It's cool, man," he says. "Chrissy gave it to me."

What.

The.

Fuck.

Wednesday, February 26, 2014

Watching Him Back 4.5

The first part of chapter 4 is here and 4.4 is here.

Crispin and I don’t get to hang out much in the week before prom. There’s some brief fondling in the art classrooms after school, but all his girlfriends want him to shop with them and plan for fucking after parties, and I’m busy trying to figure out how I’m going to take a cock up my ass for the first time in my life.


Wednesday, February 19, 2014

The Windshield Incident Pt. 3 Sneak Peek

This is the closest thing to being finished, so here's a little more of the weird shit that keeps happening to Grant. It needs some work; this why I blog rough drafts.
I was stocking the cooler in the Vance Autobody waiting room when out of nowhere a hand reached in front of me. “Holy crap!” The can of soda in my hands dropped, clattering on the floor.

Ryder Vance popped the tab on the cola he had appropriated. “Just put that one in the back.”

Giving him an I-knew-that-already look, I grabbed the errant can. “What are you doing here so early?” I asked.

Ryder replied, “I’ve been full time since school ended,” strolling around the counter. "Restorations."

“Huh.” Still not great with small talk, I went back to my work. Two months remained until I could blow this joint and head down to Sedalia. Two years of community college, two or three more of real university, and I could pretend like I didn’t know this place even existed.

Ryder’s voice cut through my happy thoughts. “Do you ever fight back?”

Thursday, December 26, 2013

Rain

Something old I found where I least expected it. Quentin is really weird, and he really likes stormy weather.

Saturday, December 7, 2013

The Worst Days 3.2

I got distracted by my job, a dog, and a little Watching Him Back spinoff. To read the part 3.1 click here, or start from the beginning. Again, thanks to Luz for sending me a copy of this lost tome.
I woke the next morning to hear Mrs. Cupps pounding on my door. "Wake up, Tamlin, honey," she called. "The seamstress will be here in half an hour!"

"Ugh," I moaned to no one. The fancy duds were on their way. I did want breakfast, however, so I levered myself out of bed and trudged downstairs for some eggs and breakfast porridge. I was even sorer today now that the bruises had their chance to settle in, and on one wrist it looked as if someone had bitten me. Maybe someone had, and I had been too high on adrenaline to notice. I hoped I didn't have rabies.

Thursday, September 12, 2013

The Worst Days Ch. 3.1

Some more train wreck for you patient souls. To read the part 2.4 click here, or start from the beginning. Again, thanks to Luz for sending me a copy of this lost tome.

When I roused myself from my nap it was dusk and my stomach was growling. I hopped in the shower to loosen my sore muscles and sluice off the dried sweat. After pulling on a shirt and jeans I wandered downstairs to hear Fen talking with the woman I had heard the night before, the one who had suggested they treat me gently. I wondered if she knew what had happened in the park. Or what we had been doing afterward. I could smell something delicious cooking, so I wandered towards the kitchen.

It was a tad awkward when I shuffled into the room and found Fen and a matronly figure there, interrupting their conversation. Fen was leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, and when he saw me he got a languid, smug look on his face that made me want to hit him, especially when the hum in my head turned sybaritic. I wondered how he could communicate facial expression without moving his mouth. I was going to have to learn that trick. The Nitkani woman, who looked older than my mother but spry nonetheless, stared at me with her mouth open.

"Er, hello, ma'am," I offered in Nitkan, shoving my hands in my pockets. I felt five years old under her scrutiny.