Hawenneyu is the Great Ruler. His power is limitless, except when it comes to love. That is the one power that he cannot control.
Noya has loved Hawenneyu from afar for as long as she can remember. The daughter of Kaakwha, the old man of the sky, she is destined to live in her father’s shadow. A place where she can gaze at Hawenneyu at her leisure without fear of being seen—or so she thinks.
Hawenneyu not only sees Noya, he yearns for the warmth of her love. Can the Great Ruler and the daughter of the old man of the sky find love, or will Hawenneyu be forced to banish Noya to the Earth?
This week’s words are: proper,brand, husband, pigeon, offend. Here we go!
Let’s see what happened to Molly #whereismolly
Willie stared at the piece of paper. She hadn’t left a proper note, but then again, nothing about Molly had been proper. She lived her own life, didn’t mind if she offended and answered to no one.
He read the note again.
If you’re looking for me, don’t bother, husband. I’ve gone to Florida. You won’t find me and I’m not lost.
She might not be lost and might had intended to go off on an adventure, but the frantic phone call he’d received and the panic in her voice told him something had happened. He spotted a pack of cigarettes with a pigeon icon on the front. Back in the day, she smoked, but not in the last ten years. Besides, this wasn’t her brand.
Damn it. The battery in his phone would last much longer if he kept staring at the note.
The last words from her phone call echoed in his ears.
I need your help. He…you know…please…Willie…
That kind of panic couldn’t be faked. She’d been scared witless. He decided then and there, he’d find her. No matter what.
This weeks’ words are: long, tin, party, witch, earthquake. Here we go!
Willie hated the dark. Always had. Bad things happened in the dark. Maybe it stemmed from his childhood trauma with the earthquake. The house shifted and moved in the middle of the night. When he woke, he realized he teetered on his bed, which would’ve ended up in the basement–had he moved the wrong way. Ever since, he hated long, dark nights and the uncertainty of being in the dark.
At least there weren’t any earthquakes expected tonight. But damn. This search party of one wasn’t his best idea. He should’ve asked for help, but Molly needed him–earthquake, dark night, or not.
It wasn’t exactly warm, either. Colder than a witch’s elbow, his grandmother would say. But his grandmother hadn’t met Molly.
Where was she?
He spotted something shiny, then kicked at the object. The tin. Holy hell. He’d found her.
“Molly?” He opened the tin and held his breath. If she wanted to see him, then she’d show. If not, he’d be screwed.
A figure appeared in the distance. He exhaled and dropped the dying flashlight.
Kaz, one of the custodians, knocked on the door, jarring Mac from the tender moment. Kaz fluttered a piece of paper. “I’ve got your order, Sid. Here’s the packing slip.” He shoved the page into Sid’s hands. “Got a new haircut?”
“I did.” Sid accepted the paper. “Which order is this?”
Mac sat on the first student desk. Kaz was a great person and so helpful, but the man had awful timing.
“The new textbook order. Got them all this morning. Big ole freight order. Too me three hours on the pier to go through it and separate them. Had to do it solo, too.” Kaz shook his head. “Teddy’s out sick and they sent Nick to the elementary building for the day. Let me shorthanded, but I wanted you all to get the books in time.”
“I see.” Sid sighed. “Are the books on the dolly?”
“You’ve got ten boxes, so it’ll take two trips,” Kaz said. “I hear you’ve got until Monday to get them numbered according to the system and logged into the spreadsheets.”
“I’ll help him.” Mac hadn’t ordered or been given the orders to buy new text books. “Won’t take long.”
“Then here you go.” Kaz brought in the first dolly of books, left the boxes on the floor, then returned with the second stack. “Good luck.”
“Thanks.” Sid waved.
Mac said nothing. He wanted Kaz to go. Every time he tried to say something to Sid and make some progress, something got in the way. The meeting, the planning, people walking in. It seemed sometimes like the cosmos didn’t want Mac to make time with Sid.
“Well…” Sid’s shoulders sagged and he stared at Mac. “You’re really going to help me?”
“Of course. If one of us writes the numbers and the other records, we should get them done in a timely manner. If we pace ourselves, we should get this knocked out in an hour and a half.” Mac took the clipboard from on top of the second stack of boxes. “Ready?”
“Sure.” Sid grabbed a pencil. “I’ll start in something we can erase–in the event I make a mistake.”
“You won’t.” Sid might not be mechanically inclined, but he was meticulous in his record keeping. Mac had seen that firsthand. “Ready?”
“You’re going to inflate my ego by saying such things.” Sid blushed. “I’m ready.”
“Okay…” Mac looked over the sheets. “We start with A-100 in box A. Where’s box A? The bottom?”
“Um…” Sid rounded the desk and bumped into Mac. “Sorry.” He tapped the packing labels on each box. “It’s on top.”
“Don’t be sorry.” Mac paused. He had to say this now. “I meant what I said. I’d like to go on a date with you.”
“You would?” Sid dropped the pencil. “Mac?”
“I would. How about you get your bank run finished? I’ll organize this so when you come back, all we have to do is write numbers. Then we can go for coffee and have a date?”
Sid picked up the pencil and grinned. “I’d like that.”
“Then get going,” Mac said. “The faster you get back, the faster we get this done, but don’t rush. I’ll still be here.”
I love doing these prompts and the challenge of trying to come up with something to go along with them. This week, the words are oven, cave, brave, painter and list. Here goes nothing! I hope it works and you enjoy it. 🙂
Sally checked the timer, then peeked out the back window. She couldn’t believe her friend, Hannah, left her with so many chores. Hannah claimed her trip out would only take a few moments. It’d be just a little bit and she’d be right back. That was forty-five minutes ago. Plus, Hannah had the audacity to leave a list of things to do while she was out. The nerve!
Sally toyed with her watch and fretted over the time. In five minutes, she’d have to take the pound cake from the oven. She wasn’t much of a baker and knew even less about cakes. How in the heck was she supposed to know if the cake was done? Someone mentioned something about a toothpick, but so what? Should she stab the cake to death? Seemed foolish and a waste of time to poke holes in the cake.
The buzzer sounded five minutes later and without Hannah having returned. Sally located the hot pan holders from the drawer and switched off the timer. “Be brave,” she mumbled. “This can’t be too hard.” She opened the over door and withdrew the cake. The top looked golden brown and the thing smelled correct. She placed the pan on the top of the stove, then closed the oven door.
“Now what do I do with it?” She rested her hand on her hip. This was Hannah’s arena–baking and cooking.
“Hi.” Zach, Hannah’s older brother, strolled into the kitchen. “Where’s my sister?”
“Out.” She held tight to the hot pan holders, thankful he couldn’t see her trembling. Every time she laid eyes on Zach, her nerve endings tingled and she swore the temperature in the room spiked. She’d thought she’d been brave when she tackled the cake, but taking to Zach was ten times harder. “What are you doing here? I thought you were with Claire today.”
“We split.” He shrugged, then opened one of the cupboards. “She left a list? My sister?” He withdrew a bag of toothpicks, then took one slender piece of wood from the bag. “Didn’t tell you how to check this, did she?”
“Nope.” She inched aside as he stabbed the cake. “What are you doing?”
“You put the toothpick in like this and if it comes out clean, then the cake is done.” He withdrew the toothpick. “See?”
“Nice. You’ve taught me something.” She bumped shoulders with him, not realizing she’d done it until the act was over.
“Well, I’m not just a painter or pretty face.” Zach grinned. “What’s on the list?” He tossed the toothpick into the trash bin. “What’d she leave for you to do?”
“Oh.” She hadn’t looked too closely at the piece of paper. “Um..” She held up the list. “According to this, I’m supposed to keep Zach company until I return or he asks you for a date.” The tips of her ears burned and she slowly shifted her gaze to his. “I said that out loud, didn’t I?”
“Yep and…” He moved the page into his view. “She did say that.”
“I’m sorry.” She inched away from him. “That was pushy.”
“That’s my sister.” He took the page from her. “Don’t worry about it. You do realize she intended this. She told me I was painting the den and had to come over right now.” He smiled and switched off the oven. “She should be back in ten minutes or so. Care to grab coffee with me?”
What did she have to lose? Hannah wanted her to get with Zach and he’d asked her out. “Sure.”
Rules are meant to be broken, especially when your back is against the wall.
Nico Thunder rules the field. As the quarterback of the Bearcats, he knows what he wants and takes it. There’s one exception. Kaja Wright makes him hot in all the right places, but she’s off limits. The rule states no interoffice dating. He can’t get her out of his mind.
He’s been in sticky situations before. Can he get out of this third-and long-situation, or will he be forced to punt before he finds his heart’s delight?
This 6,500 word erotic short story features scenes of interracial heterosexual sex.
This book has been re-edited from the first edition and re-issued in this edition.
She’d never admit the truth out loud, but she’d been drawn to him since the moment he’d been traded to the team. From his inky black hair and his deep brown eyes, down his chiseled torso to his sculpted legs and feet, she wanted to caress him. What would it feel like to lie beside him in bed and discuss football plays? She bit back the urge to chuckle. Yes, she was that girl. She ate, breathed, and slept football. But sleeping with the players wasn’t part of the game.
Still, Nico was hot and could be worth the trouble.
“Then what is your problem?” She shrugged away from him and folded her arms. “Something set you off.”
“That asshole touching you and being a dick. That’s what set me off. He thinks he owns every female he comes in contact with and can treat them like shit. I’m sorry. I have a problem with that.” Nico’s whisper became strained.
“Then…thank you.” She rubbed her bare arms. She’d had to protect herself for so long that she forgot what if felt like to have someone step in. She wished she had on something more than a cocktail dress.
“I’ve also been trying all year to get you to talk to me. I’ve stayed out of trouble. Other than the rule about dating staff, what do you have against me?”
Aaron stared at himself in the mirror. He wasn’t sure if the costume would be good enough. He wanted to look perfect for the event and details mattered. How best could he articulate his affection for Steve unless he wore this ridiculous costume? Didn’t everyone wear a bright red heart suit when going to propose to his boyfriend of five years–his favorite person in the entire world?
He stepped out of the bedroom and strode across the living room to the back porch. When he crossed the threshold to the back patio, he stumbled. Darn his nerves.
“What are you doing?” Steve tipped his head. “Aaron? What are you wearing?”
“I wanted to ask you something.” Aaron fortified his nerves. “It’s…I need to tell you something.”
“What?” Steve sank onto the half-wall ringing the patio. “You’re confusing me. It’s not Valentine’s Day. What’s going on?”
“I…” Damn it. “Will you marry me?”
He dropped to one knee and offered the ring. “Will you marry me?”
“You’re serious?” Steve’s eyes lit up. “You are.”
His hands shook. “What do you think?” God. This was the hardest thing he’d ever done. “Steve?”
Steve’s eyes misted over and he grinned, then held out his left hand. “I will happily marry you.”
Aaron slid the ring on his boyfriend’s finger. At least he hadn’t stumbled over asking the question. He stood and embraced Steve. The proposal hadn’t gone the way he’d expected, but he hadn’t been turned down.
M/F, BDSM, Spanking, Toys, Pegging, Anal Sex, D/s, Fem Dom
She’ll be his salvation if he’s willing to switch.
Being stressed out sucks, especially when you’re in charge of a team. Just ask Eric Trask. The pit crew of the Fifty-Four truck team depends on him. The stress of keeping things running smoothly is wearing Eric down. What’s a guy to do to get a little relief?
Janine Walters knows exactly what Eric’s up against. She’s the public relations face of the team. Pressure is all a part of the job. Her outlet for stress just happens to be wielding a crop.
Can Eric embrace her methods for stress relief or will her suggestion tear their fragile relationship apart?
“Put the bags in the trunk.” She stood tall and slid the scarf from around her throat. “I need you to do something for me.”
“I liked the scarf where it was. Might want to use it on you later.” He slammed the trunk lid. “I can see the wheels turning in your head. What are you thinking?”
“Wrists.” Curt, brusque and to the point. “Now.”
Eric stared at her for a moment, his mouth opening and closing with no sound coming out. His gaze darted around, but he offered his hands.
“Good boy.” Her hunch had paid off. His inner submissive wanted to play, and had won out against his alpha needs. She wrapped the silk around his wrists. “You please me.”
“Janine, what are you doing? I wanted to do this to you, not me.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I please you? Does that mean you think I’m sexy?”
She threaded her arms around his neck, rubbing her groin over his bound hands. “I,” she said between kisses, “am in control of what we do.” She feasted on his lips, licking his bottom lip and swiping her tongue over his teeth. The tastes of mint and cola exploded on her tongue. She ground against him, pleasuring herself against his thick fingers. “And I want to do you right here, right now, sexy man.”
Eric moaned and she backed away. Confusion burned in his eyes and colour filled his cheeks. Instead of giving him the lead, she reached forward and unzipped him. Red dusted his face and the tops of his ears.
“You’re not worried someone will see us?” he asked in a hushed tone.
“I’m not.” She pushed his jeans aside enough to stroke his cock through his boxer briefs. “They can’t see behind the car and, if you keep quiet, we won’t draw attention.” She worked his dick through the opening in his underwear and smeared her thumb through the pre-cum glistening on the tip of his cock. “Right now, you’re in my hands and my control. You will do what I ask of you.”
He stared at her, but didn’t tell her to stop.
“No coming until I tell you.” She nodded to the back seat. “Lie down.”
Eric glanced behind her, then got out of the way as she opened the door. He fixed his gaze on her and sat down on the edge of the upholstered seat.
Janine gave him a gentle push and eyeballed her work. “Very nice.” She inched the hem of her skirt high enough to give him a tantalising view of her panty-covered pussy. His mouth opened a fraction of an inch and his eyes glazed as she hooked her thumbs into the flimsy waistband of the undergarment.
King Mason doesn’t want to spend another year alone. He loves his job at the men’s shelter, but there has to be more from life than work. He’s seen the pretty blond man around the community and can’t wait to make a move at the Christmas street party.
Randall Stevens has big plans for Christmas 1980, and all of them involve meeting King Mason. He’s fallen hard for the man, and his wish is to take things to the next level. Christmas Eve just might be the night — except some wishes are meant to go sideways. Can Start Me Up help provide the solution he and King need?