Thursday, January 3, 2019

Published

Hello! I have a new story that was published at Horror Tree called "Breaking Point" on 12-30-18.

Two of my stories that were previously published on Horror Tree have also been published as part of the anthology 'Trembling With Fear: Year One' which is available for purchase on Amazon in paperback and e-book. If anyone is interested.

Wednesday, May 30, 2018

Tuesday, November 7, 2017

Conversations and Cloaks

This is a something I wrote for Salina a few years ago. Don't know why I didn't post it here, but that's easily remedied now. The characters and this particular universe belong, as always, to Salina and me.


“I got this for you Yuki,” a young man in his late teens says, rough voice gooey with affection; a crystal snowflake on a silver chain dangling from his fingers.
“Oh Kazuya,” she gasps, face pink as scarlet eyes widen, “it’s beautiful!”
“Disgusting,” an irritated voice snarls.
Several stories above the bashful boy and his blushing sweetheart, on an often inhabited private roof, a dark figure scowls down at the pair. Dressed all in black save the white scarf wrapped round his neck, the man watches, tense, as crimson irises narrow.
What does she see in that moron?” he hisses, teeth grinding loudly as the fumbling Kazuya tries to clasp the necklace around Yuki’s neck.
“She thinks he’s sweet,” a soft voice responds.
Flinching, he whirls around to glower at the woman standing a few feet behind him. A small smile curves her lips in greeting, secretly pleased at surprising him, as she walks across the roof. Ruby eyes track her, expression unchanging, even as his heart skips a beat. He watches light from the setting sun catch her hair, fixated, as it shifts purple and black, dancing like dark flames. Her smile widens, cherry lips curving higher, as he turns away, annoyed she caught him staring.
“I know you’re her brother,” she says sitting close but not too close, feet dangling over the edge, “and you want to protect her, but you don’t need to watch when she’s with him.”
“Hn.”
“Isn’t it better that she’s dating someone who loves so much he’d die to protect her, than someone who wouldn’t?”
They watch the couple below them embrace; one face annoyed, the other fond.
“If she found someone worthy to date,” he begins, pausing to look at his companion with a meaningful expression full of skepticism, “if such a man existed, the idea that he could die protecting her would be impossible, because no one would be able to defeat him.”
Eyebrows lift in surprise as she takes in his serious expression. ‘It’s a good thing he isn’t the deciding factor in Yuki’s love life,’ she thinks, ‘poor Kazuya wouldn’t stand a chance.’
“No one would defeat him except you,” she corrects, amused, unable to hide a grin as dark crimson irises lighten in pleasure.
“Of course, that’s a given,” he agrees proudly, a small smile teasing his lips.
Breath catching, she nods, unable to speak past the sudden lump in her throat. Heart contracting, she resists the urge to grin wider, turning to watch the street a moment after he does. A smile. He gave her a real smile. Not a smirk, or the wicked twist of his mouth when he’s feeling pleasurably vindictive, not that those looks didn’t have their own appeal, but a genuine happy smile. Hoping he doesn’t hear the loud beating of her heart she sneaks a glance at him from the corner of her eye. It’s still there, a little faded, but the barest hint of a smile lingers. An ache fills her chest, delighted and distraught that she’s managed to cause such a rare sight, knowing it won’t last long.
A burst of wind sends her thoughts scattering with a violent shiver. The day had been warm and her cloak lay forgotten on her bed. Now a storm comes creeping in with the night and she misses its protection. She doesn't relish the thought of staying and freezing, but feels reluctant to leave; they're kind of having a moment. Another icy blast set her teeth chattering, just a little, deciding for her. Best to take this little victory and go before she gets sick. Sudden warmth engulfs her and she blinks, surprised, to find his cloak and scarf wrapped around her. A blush creeps up her neck, but the feel of his residual heat sinking into her skin is too much to resist.
“Are you sure you don't need it?” she asks, more concerned he'll regret the decision than need the heat.
He snorts, giving her a look bordering on insulting. She shrugs, saying, “Just checking,” before ducking her face behind the scarf until it reaches the bottom of her eyes. She breathes him in; fire, wind, and ice cream. The last bit almost makes her laugh. It feels like a stolen moment taken directly from her fantasies. Cuddled under his cloak as they talk and tease; him genuinely smiling. Well, maybe not exactly as she imagined, since there's still six inches between them, but certainly close enough.
Unnoticed, he watches her from the corner of his eye. A strange mixture of satisfaction and pride mingles in him. He knows she's only doing it for the heat, but he isn't going to complain. However unintentional she's wrapped in his clothes, wearing his scent, practically surrounded by him. He finds it immensely pleasing, though he’d never admit to it. Later, when the moon is high and they go inside, He will sleep on silk sheets, cloak around him, surrounded by her.

Wednesday, October 18, 2017

#metoo

With all of the stories that have been coming out lately, I've been thinking about the experiences I've had in the past. I'm fortunate to have never been assaulted, but I've been harassed many times. Honestly, I've debated about posting something or not. Knowing that my experiences have been mild compared to many women, I've questioned my right to talk about it. Ultimately, I've decided to write about this one because of how it made me question myself.

Last April my friend and I were at an anime convention and we decided to enjoy the dancing they offer at night. There's music, lights, and you can meet a lot of cool people who are very nice. It's usually a lot of fun. On that particular night, I noticed a group of guys (who had been checking us out as we walked by) follow us into the dance. No big deal, it's open for everybody. I noticed them follow us to the other side of the large room, and saw that they'd stopped nearby and were watching us dance. A little creepy, but still harmless. After a while, one of them asked me to dance and I said, “No.” I just wanted to hang out with my friend. He left.

A little later, he came back, inserting himself between us, trying to get me to dance. I said, “No,” shook my head for emphasis in case he couldn't hear me over the music, and stepped away from him. To be honest, I was kind of annoyed. I shouldn't have had to tell him a second time. He went away, and we kept dancing.

Sure enough, he came back again. This time, he came up to us, said something I couldn't hear, and put his hands on our shoulders trying to lead us somewhere. I snarled, “Do. Not. TOUCH. Us.” He backed off, apologizing, trying to assure us he wasn't that kind of guy. I said, “Fine, just don't touch us.” He didn't bother us again.

The thing is, it wasn't fine. After he left, I immediately felt the need to explain myself to my friend for reacting that way. When I told people about what happened, I felt like I had to explain myself in order to justify why I snapped at him. I felt guilty for making him feel like he needed to apologize. I questioned if my reaction was out of line. I still question it at times. I HATE that. If he had been aggressive or smarmy, like other men have been in the past, I never would have doubted myself. He was apologetic. He wasn't overbearing, He was just trying to lead us towards his friends, huddled in the corner of a dark room, where it would have been hard for anyone to hear us if something happened. The simple fact is, he did need to apologize. He should have felt bad; he crossed a line. He shouldn't have touched us. He never should have felt like he had the right to put his hands on my friend and me. I shouldn't have felt guilty for telling some stranger not to touch me. I shouldn't have felt a need to justify not wanting a stranger to touch me. He should have respected my decision the first time I said no. If he had, I never would have questioned myself.

The reason that I decided to share this experience, which is harmless compared to others, is the fact that it's not harmless. No experience where a person is made to feel harassed or unsafe by someone else is harmless. Just because I've had worse experiences, doesn't make this one okay. Just because he wasn't aggressive, doesn't mean he wasn't a predator. Most importantly, what I want to emphasize to people, is that no one should ever feel guilty or like they have to justify themselves for not wanting to be harassed.

Thursday, October 12, 2017

Published!

I had two stories published in Horror Tree's Trembling With Fear.

The first story, The Very Best, can be found here: https://horrortree.com/trembling-with-fear-03052017/

The second story, Picture Perfect, can be found here: https://horrortree.com/trembling-with-fear-08202017/

Saturday, July 9, 2016

Haiku

A bit of haiku fun that came about during a car trip with family.

Waterfalls of tears
Slowly dripping down my face
Such sweet ecstasy

Wednesday, February 24, 2016

Tell Me A Fable

This is something silly  I wrote about seven years ago as a funny little thing for my friend Laura.


Once upon a time there was a beautiful maiden known as Le Fop. Day in and day out she was forced to make beautiful music for hard, distrubingly amusing, task masters. She dreamed of being rescued one day by a handsome man who had hot maple fudge syrup, and was an S. G.

One day she came upon an evil but kind person called Le Fantome, who was cursed to listen to the inane chattering of a fruit cake. Le Fantome made a deal with Le Fop; if she would break the curse the favor would be returned, freeing her from her servitude.

With a mighty swish of her hair Le Fop sent the fruit cake tumbling back. With a loud thwock the fruit cake crashed into the ground, knocking herself out. Freed from the curse, Le Fantome told Le fop in three days the debt would be repaid.

As the third day drew to an end, a handsome man named J.D. appeared. Le Fantome had told him about Le Fop. Striken by her plight, he rushed to rescue her. They married and lived happily to the end of their days.