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July 28, 2015

Home Ship Log, Day Two…

August 25, 2015

riley's truth

I’m going to subtitle this post: A Perfect Recipe for A Batch of Religious Solicitation Off!

Before I get to that I have to tell you this.

Honey does a lot of stuff around here, but then so do I. Heck, we do a lot of stuff together too and then there’s the stuff we do alone for our respective business as well. So it’s no wonder I’m going crazy here. I’m doing his stuff for the house, my stuff for the house, his administration stuff for his business and my business stuff AND I’m doing all the stuff we usually do together all by myself. Phew! There’s never a dull moment, I can tell you that. *shrug* I could also tell you my mother needs a personal assistant and our pooch needs a slave. Why you may ask?

Well, in regards to my mom, she can’t remember all that well. Consequently, she’s a great starter of things, but never finishes any one of them. Especially laundry. I hate laundry. As for Diva dog? Yeah, she may look like an angel, but she’s a devil who never forgets. I moved her kibble to the big pantry because I was tired of tripping over her while she stood in the kitchen with her forehead pressed against the smaller pantry door. Big mistake. A few months ago Honey loosened the door latch on that big door so my mom could easily open it. Great right? Not so much. Diva dog remembered how to open it, and for the past two days she’d been in there helping herself to kibbles and treats. *Insert an image of me hauling all the stuff back to the first cabinet in the kitchen, here* Nothing like creating extra work when you’re already swamped. *le sigh*

Okay, *que the sound of a ding-dong here*. It’s the people selling religion at that door.

Phenomenal!

This would be yesterday afternoon, and not that I have anything against religion, it’s just that if I want to have a theological discussion at any point in my life I don’t relish having one with strangers on the front steps of my home. Why? Well, for one it’s a billion degrees outside and I like my AC. Two? I’m not a big fan of someone who starts a conversation with the assumption that the belief their selling is the only one that’s valid. And three? This is a big one. I’m busy working. I mean, would they go into Bill Gates’ business headquarters and knock on his office door during work hours to speak to him like this? How about Diane Sawyer’s dressing room door, just before she goes on the air? I would place a rather large wager on the fact that they wouldn’t walk into any church on a Sunday during a sermon and interrupt in order to start a conversation like this.

*Looks right at you* Gee, the thought made me curious, you know. So I asked one of them a question when she was done giving me her spiel. (Keep in mind that I was already stressed and therefore aggravated.)

“Have you been to the offices in the surrounding area?”

The determined young woman shook her head. “No.”

“Why?”

She didn’t hesitate to answer, “Those are places of work.”

Exactly the opening I was waiting for. After I patiently explained how I work at home and found these kinds of disruptions distracting. I then went on to quietly vent about all the stuff I had yet to do. I brought up the laundry, the garbage, the pool, and the pooch. I spoke about my mom. About the constant barge of telemarketers who call all day long. I mentioned the copious emails waiting for me when I did get the chance to return to my desk. I complained to them about how I haven’t been able to write and I ended with how I wouldn’t bore them with the actual business I did do at home, because I’d taken up enough of their time.

There was an awkward silence and then? They turned to leave. Oh, some of them were a little confused, but hey all of them were relieved. So, in terms of my work with them? Yeah, it was done. Mission accomplished. 😀

I enjoyed that victory for no more than a minute before I deflated. Because by the time I went back into the house and thought about my mini-rant, it occurred to me. I’d forgotten to shut off the pool the day before, and I didn’t take the garbage in the kitchen out to the trash before the garbage truck came to pick it up.

Damn it.

I better check on those things before I finish my mom’s laundry.

This is hell people. Sheer and utter hell.

Did I mention that one of the fire alarms in the house went off last night at 10:30pm? No? Yeah, it did. It loudly blared four or five times and then stopped. And there I was an hour later, lying in bed imagining that it was a small fire in the attic and any minute the conflagration was going to spread and the whole place would be consumed in flames. Never happened, of course. Question is, why did the alarm go off at all? Things like this never happen when Honey’s home.

(I was going to end this post right here but then…)

Unbelievable! Diva dog just now started crazy barking at one of the back sliders. I got up to see what was freaking her out and lo-and-behold, my mom’s out by the pool with the pool net trying to scoop a critter out of the water. I should probably tell you here that the woman can’t swim. Never could. So yeah, her being unsteady on her feet, half blind, and wielding an eight-foot aluminum pole with a net on the end at the deepest part of the water to save what turned out to be a swirling leaf? Not good.

After I shuttle her to safety and give her the equivalent of the old “are you effing out of your mind talk”

*insert the mighty snow globe*

wtf

Get this. She looks at me as if I’m nuts, and says, “Boy, you’re grumpy. What’s the matter? Can’t you sleep? You probably miss your hubby too much.”

*Turns to look at you* It’s true. She’s trying to kill me.

“No,” I said patiently. “You know you’re not supposed to go near the pool.”

To which she mumbled under her breath, “I suppose you’re going to tell on me.”

*Thinks for a moment* Yeah, I don’t even know what that means. Tell who? Honey? This didn’t stop me from saying, “Of course, and don’t do it again.”

Oh boy. Now Madge is not talking to me because she thinks I’m going to tell on her. To whom? I have no idea.

There you have it, folks…and it’s only 10am here.

Yay!

Thanks for listening!

Riley


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Behold! Is it a bird? A Plane? Or a…?

August 23, 2015

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Yeah, what the heck is that thing? *Here’s me propping my chin in my palm and staring at it after Honey plunked it down on the table last night* This is the conversation.

“I bought seven of these.”

Me, blink, blink. “Great.” That’s what I said, but what I was thinking was, Whatever floats your boat. Boat is a key word as the item in question kind of looks nautical, no? Anyway, Honey did that chuckle thing and then hiked a brow at me.

“You don’t know what it is, do you?”

Can I just say here that I hate it when he tries to Lord it over me? I had some ideas about the stupid item, but I don’t like to be wrong so I kept all of them to myself, and said, “I know exactly what it is. All I want to know is why do we need seven?”

Heh. Heh. See what I did there? I’m a stealthy fisherman trolling for clues. I’m also a damn good writer to keep within the maritime theme. Just saying. 😉

“They’re for you. For emergencies.”

Okay, how many emergencies is he expecting me to have while he’s away? At this point I’m thinking that maybe I’ve missed something when he’s home. Is there one catastrophe after another happening under our roof that I know nothing about on a daily basis, or what? And hey, if there are, is this mini bug zapper-looking thing going to save me from them while he’s gone?

I kept my cool though. “Is there a reason you’re expecting seven?”

“Expecting? No, I bought seven so there’d be one in all the major rooms in the house.”

Alrighty. The nautical theme went out the window and I’m thinking Starship Trooper alien bugs. Yeah, I have no idea why I latched onto that visual either, other than the thing looked like a bug zapper, but before I got the chance to flat-out ask him about it, he turned it around and I saw the knob.

When he moved it the lantern came on. “They’re battery operated. So if you lose power you’ll have light.”

I was so glad I didn’t tell him about my alien bug zapper theory. “Great idea.”

Or so I thought…

Fast forward to bedtime last night. There was no way I could miss one of those lanterns on his bedside table. It stuck out like a sore thumb, so as I walked by, I said, “What’s that doing in here? You know I never turn on the lights at night.”

I must pause here to tell you two things. You know how Honey accused me of sleeping like a vampire? Well, he has also accused me of being a spooky night walker. All because if/when I have to get up in the middle of the night to check on things like children, pets, parents, or guests. The latter of which that may have had too much cheer upon arrival and fell asleep in front of the large screen to snore so loudly I couldn’t think straight – love you Bob! – I do all of this in the dark. I also check weather conditions (when we have a hurricane situation) or pool splashes when I hear them in the wee hours of the night – in pitch blackness as well.

The second thing I’ll admit is that I’m very quiet about these things. I don’t get up slamming around, like Honey does. I’m silent. Really silent. My dad always used the saying, “Walk quietly, but carry a big stick.” So yeah, that’s me. The point to me sharing this? There have been nights when Honey didn’t know I was up and when I returned to our room and tried to climb on him over him 😉 he’s been known to wake up with a start, and not be VERY happy about it. *shrug* I never said I was perfect so…

Back to the battery powered lantern on his bedside table.

Honey turned off our regular lights and said, “I thought since we had them and this is my last night before I head out tomorrow (the way we’ve been talking about this mini-trip was as if he was going away to war. How pathetic is that?) we could try…”

Suddenly the bed is lit in this white/gray light. *looks right at you thinking*, “Hell no!”

There was not one bit, not even a smidgen of hesitation on my part when I said, “Turn it off.”

“Why? I think it’s great mood lighting.”

Here again, I’m left thinking, “Yeah, if you’re in the mood to look like you’re starring in your very own mug shot.

I must pause once more because I have to ask all of you, *looks out over the sea of faces* “Would you raise your hand if you happen to think white light with a stark gray overtone that turns your skin to a turkey white pallor is attractive?” *insert me scanning…scanning…and scanning.* “Yep, just as a thought. Not one arm raised.”

Men! Shakes head.

“Turn. It. Off.”

If you can imagine Honey half smiling at me, imagine me scowling back. There is no way he was going to win this battle. No freaking way. But he tried. I’ll give him that.

“Oh, come on babe. It’s sexy.”

“No.”

He tried to pull me into his arms. “Give it a chance.”

A what? Oh hell no to the tenth power! But I could tell Honey was going to dig his heels in over this. So what’s a girl to do? Well, I’ve found the best way to cull Honey to my way of thinking in matters such as this, is to stick a pin in his overblown ego and hit him where it hurts. “Oh, all right. But I’ll have to keep my eyes closed. I can’t look at you in this light. It makes you look sickly.”

Bah! It didn’t, but he did…turn the white light off I mean. It was like a lightning flash. One minute there and the next gone. Poof!

Yay!

Haha! But hey, don’t feel too bad for Honey. I’m not completely heartless. He wanted light, so I gave it to him. The old fashioned way. Candlelight. Everyone wears that well. And geez, just as I was lighting those flames, I got to thinking. What the heck did I need the lanterns for? I love it when the lights go out. It gives me the chance to live by candlelight and use my hurricane lamps – which I love.

The morale of this story? Don’t fix it if it ain’t broke. And, um, guys? If you’re listening? Stick with the candlesticks. You’ll thank me for this and so will your women.

But back to Honey. I have one more little tidbit to share with you. This morning over coffee we had one of those conversations. I’m still LMAO over it.

He says, “Oh, and you can turn the pool off tonight at 7pm.”

There’s me thinking, I have to do more stuff? The list was so long I’ve forgotten most of it. Don’t tell. “You mean I’ll have to turn it on again?”

I was thinking a day ahead. If I turn it off tonight it has be turned back on again at some point, right?

“Yes.” He leaned forward and was trying not to smile. “You’ll have to use your index finger and move the switch from left to right.” The annoying guy made the motion and then laughed a little. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

I was ready to hurt something, but it wasn’t me. I can tell you that. “Every single day? Don’t we have a timer on the pump?”

“Yes, but with the daily thunderstorms and frequently losing power, I work the pool manually until September. So you have to do this.”

And there’s me already making plans to do it every other day.

He must have read that scheme on my face. “And don’t think you can skip a day. With this heat and all the rain, missing a day of filtering will likely turn the water green.”

Damn it.

“You’re good with the garbage? It goes out Monday and Thursdays. Recycling only on Mondays.”

“Got it.”

“I’ve let the bills in order of the days they have to be mailed.”

“All right.”

“And…”

I was ready to climb the walls here, people. There was more stuff? Did he do everything around here normally? It sure felt like it.

“I want you to miss me.”

Aw… yeah, that was a nice, and unexpected addition to the list. So sweet. To which I replied, “Oh I will. I’ll be thinking about you as I take the garbage out, as I mail the bills in the order that they have to be mailed, and I’ll definitely be missing you when I,” I held up my finger like he’d done when he’d annoyingly showed me how to flick the switch to the pool. Only I slowly moved mine back and forth a couple of times, suggestively popping my eyebrows at him as I said, “do myself by candlelight every night you’re gone.”

Bam!

Those credit card commercials have nothing on me. The look on Honey’s face? Beyond priceless. He’s only been gone an hour and he’s already called me twice. 😀 I SO love it when a plan comes together. Heheheh.

I shall keep you posted about me braving the confines of my own home without Honey. It should be interesting…

Thanks for stopping by!

Riley


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We Have A Winner!!! And A Honey Story!

August 20, 2015

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Yay! I emailed the lucky lady last night and I’m just waiting for her to get back to me before I let you know who won. :)

*Update* She got back to me. Congratulations Gail! She said she was doing the happy dance all the way out her door this morning.

Love it!

Okay, I still have a goodreads drawing going here if you haven’t entered. It’s for a signed print copy of PUSHED and I will be starting a new “build a giveaway” soon when it gets closer to PERSUADED being released. I’m also working on talking my narrators into visiting my site and doing a giveaway with some audio codes for not just my books, but the huge backlist of authors this couple has done narrations for. Do any of you guys listen to audio books?

Now onto Honey. As most of you know, we’re in the middle of a remodel and Honey did the unthinkable. He touched MY stuff. He actually packed it up and put it into storage. *gasp* I had no idea how much of a control freak I was until I was losing sleep over not getting my giveaways in the mail immediately after they ended. That’s my thing, but it’s kind of hard to do when the stuff you’re giving away isn’t available to pack up. Eek!

No worries now. I can assure you Honey will NOT be doing anything like that again. Between me nagging him every day and him having to spend two hours on two different Sundays going through the storage unit he’d packed so beautifully, this will never happen again. Promise.

Other than all this, we’ve had an interesting couple of weeks. The flooring we ordered and then had to return because they sent the wrong color the first time, arrived for the second time not right. Here’s the conversation.

Honey puts four tiles down in the corner of the living room, and I hike a brow at him. “Who is that for?”

He scowls. Did I mention when Honey does this his eyes get all dark and glassy? “You’re joking, right? This is the tile you ordered.”

I didn’t even blink. “No it’s not.”

“But it’s the bone color you wanted. See?”

Like he had to pick up one and stick it under my nose. This nose knows that the frigging tile he was trying to sell me on was wrong. “It’s not the right tile. This one has the irregular edges I didn’t want. It has to go back.”

And *looks right at you* when I say it I really mean the whole ton of a shipment the tile company loaded on skids in his truck.

“I’m not taking this back. Now you’re just being picky.”

*Head snaps around so I can glare up at him* “Picky? It’s the wrong style. I could have lived with the wrong shade the first time better than this.” *cough, cough* Not that I would have but…

“So now you tell me.”

Okay, I get it. He was just as frustrated as me with these screw ups, but unlike him, I was prepared to do something about it. Yes. It was time we looked at this a different way. “If they can’t get this right, I think we should go with the wood I chose in the first place. You know the one. It cost three times as much and will take you twice as long to install.”

He blinked and then took a deep breath. Two actually, before he gave me a “touché” grin. “We’ll have the right tile here by Wednesday.”

As he walked off it occurred to me. The sneaky bugger knew it was the wrong tile all along and had already anticipated my reaction. What did this mean? I was going to have to watch him like a hawk. Did I ever tell you about the time I picked out paint for our living room and he had a crew come in to paint the whole place while I was working? Would have been a nice surprise if he’d picked up the right color. Get this. He lost the sample swatch I’d given him that morning that had the paint brand and tint mix formula on it, so he decided to wing it.

Yeah right.

I picked a light taupe color and what I walked into was poo brown. The upside of that disaster? I talked Honey into believing he was color blind and couldn’t ever be trusted with these kinds of decisions again…but then, after this tile color issue, maybe the guy is color challenged and I haven’t been lying to him all these years.

Oh, well. Let’s forget about paint, shall we? Here’s hoping that one day I’ll have my floors done. *le sigh*

On a better note I did receive some very good writing news recently. I’ll be sharing that with you soon. But for now, check this out. Last Friday, after working out all the good news details, I decided to celebrate. So when Honey got home I asked him to make me a dirty martini. I love them. That’s why I reserve them for being a celebratory drink. *gives you the side-eye* Otherwise I could turn into a lush suffering from massive salt retention. I love the olives, but they don’t love me. You know what I’m saying? But I digress. Where was I?

Honey and I had just sat down to enjoy the cocktail hour when my son sent a text me. (Normally I don’t text when I’m sitting with anyone unless it’s the kids, so…) Here’s the digital conversation.

Hi Mom. How’s your day going? Are you working?

Hey, babydoll (yeah he’s 6’3” and all grown up but he’s still my boy) things are great! I’m sitting here celebrating with a martini.

At this point I expected him to shoot back something along the lines of, “What’s the good news?” Or “What are you celebrating?” At the very least I expected, “????” This would explain why I had to stare at my phone screen for a few seconds before I fully comprehended his words. This is what he sent back:

Called it. Dad IS an alien.

I about died laughing when I realized autocorrect had changed martini to Martian. Honey wasn’t amused until I assured him he could be one of those Predator alien guys not the little green ones with the really big eyes. He was okay with that. *shakes head* Men!

Speaking of shaking heads. Imagine me leaving the cool confines of my office last Saturday afternoon and braving the 90+ degree weather, going out to our backyard. Why, you may ask? Well, after having the power company working right outside my office window all week, making all kind of noise trying to correct a buried cable, I was in no mood to listen to more grinding, sawing, and banging. All of which Honey was doing. I get out there and Honey looks like he’d been swimming in a swamp. He was soaked and filthy. Did I care? Nope.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m fixing the hole in the fence.” When he stood a mountain of debris fell off him and I actually stepped back the second he used his shirt to wipe the copious sweat off his brow. “I thought it was going to be a simple job, but it’s too close to the footing. I had to…”

All I heard was whomp, whomp, whomp, blah, blah, until he finished with, “It will be solid and tight when I’m done.”

*Insert me scratching my head here* In terms of jobs needing to be done around our property? The small hole you couldn’t see behind the bushes was right up there, in my mind, with the time he painted the laundry room instead of installing the bigger sink I’d asked for. Or, even the time I asked him to re-grout the kids bathroom and he changed the toilet instead.

“My question to you is this. Why did you feel the need to take down half the fence and fix an insignificant hole I never even complained about when we have hedgezilla that needs to be trimmed, or those flagstones that need to be leveled. You know, if you’re bound and determined to suffer heat stroke this afternoon one of the projects that truly needed doing would suffice, no?”

“Bunnies.”

I don’t know about you, but hearing caused me to hear crickets. “What about them?”

“Madge (for those of you who don’t know this is my mom and she lives with us) saw the hole and she’s worried that the coyotes are going to get inside the yard and kill her bunnies.”

Alrighty! Couple of things wrong with this. First, yes the coyotes run through the golf courses at night by our house that’s true, but they don’t come into the residential neighborhoods. Second, even if they did, the hole in the fence was too small for them to get through. And third? These aren’t pet rabbits. They aren’t Madge’s bunnies. What they are though, are the little varmints that eat our lawn, flowers, and vegetables. So snow globe moment here as to why he was barricading them into the very place (that would be our yard) that we wanted them out of.

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I explained everything to Honey, and all he did was shrug. “Madge was worried about them and the break in the fence was stressing her out. I’ll get the other stuff done as soon as I finish with this.”

Aw…

And there’s me. Feeling like a big bag of flaming poo for being so snippy about the noise and stuff. He was putting my mom’s mind at ease. What a great son-in-law. So what did I do? I cut out of work early for the day and helped Honey in the yard. We both looked like we’d been bathing in a swamp a couple of hours later, but it was worth it. When my mom came over for dinner the next night she had a list of wildlife she’d seen in the yard during the course of the day. As she recited it, both Honey and I kept our lips zipped but we were exchanging meaningful glances – I can tell you that.

This is Madge. “I saw, cardinals, blue jays, and mocking birds. The bunnies, they live right under my bedroom window. I also saw a snake, an egret, and the hawk. Oh, and of course all the squirrels.”

Ummm…you notice anything about that list? If you rearranged it slightly you’d have the circle of life…or, ah, death thing going on. But since Honey couldn’t fix that, we both stayed quiet on the subject.

I love my mom!

I love Honey too.

What I don’t love is the rabbits! I don’t even want to think about them multiplying.

Truthfully, I can’t because for the next while I’m going to be too busy working on PERSUADED. :) I’ll be posting teasers for that book soon. Maybe this weekend.

Oh, and next week should be interesting. Honey is going away and already he’s pulling out the macho-can’t-live-without-me guy checklist stuff. Items he’s purchased? Batteries, extra water, and matches? Seriously? I’m living in a well-equipped home and he’s buying me camping supplies. *looks right at you* I have four more days to go before he leaves. I can hardly wait. What do you want to bet he brings home some fishing gear or bow and arrow. I think the only thing he hasn’t covered yet is the culmination of the zombie apocalypse or a pandemic happening to me when he’s away. Although, now that I think about it. He did stock up on face masks. I thought they were for when he sands the drywall, but maybe they’re a “just in case of the plague” supply. I’ll be sure to let you guys know what else he buys. He’s cracking me up.

Have a great rest of the week! And as always, thanks for stopping by!

Riley


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MASTER X AND THE LESSON

August 16, 2015

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Hi guys! Here’s the next scene and there’s info at the bottom of the post about the CONTEST giveaway! Thanks so much for being patient. I love my subscribers! I love doing giveaways too! But Gah! This remodel/rebuild/I’m ready to move thing, is driving me nuts. I have so much going on that…well, it’s a big fat bummer, so I’m really glad you guys have my back. 😀 I hope you like this scene – let me know in comments. Also, I seem to have missed two other books in the giveaway. I’ll have everything put together when I pack it up for the lucky winner – I promise.

If you’d like to revisit the story or if you haven’t read all the scenes, you can click here and you’ll be directed to a post that has all the links to the scenes that lead up to this one.

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Here are the prizes to be won. There’s a 25.00 Amazon gift card emailed to the winner as well.

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Here’s the apple candle that I didn’t make it in the above picture. Does anyone remember Ted Basel and his apple analogy? I loved that bit.

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There’s also a clothes peg flash drive. Inspired again, by Ted in Required Surrender. That Dom was a busy guy.

I think that’s it’s it for all the loot. So, without further ado here’s Naomi and Xander

THE NEXT SCENE

Hey, did we have a name for this story? Any ideas? Anyone? Post them in comments.

Begin

Xander let that comment sink in. What would she do when she realized he knew who she was? Would she run or stand her ground?
“I’m sorry.”
A woman who took responsibility. He liked it, but he did want clarity. “About what exactly?”
“Sir?”
“Z, remember? Now tell me why you’re sorry.”
“I was disrespectful.”
He held her gaze. “When?”
“When you first came to my office and at the PTA meeting…”
Her words trailed off as he shook his head. “That’s not where we started, is it?”
She frowned, and then answered quietly, “But it was.”
“No. This.” He indicated with a wave, back and forth between them. “Started the moment you walked into this lounge and didn’t tell me who you were.”
“You called me Violet.”
“So you wouldn’t peg yourself to be a liar. Should I have let you make up a name?”
She shook her head.
“I’m going to ask you again. Why are you sorry?”
“I’m sorry, sir—”
“Z,” he corrected.
“Z, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you who I was when I discovered who you were.”
He let her go and stepped back. “Was that so hard?”
She looked away, smoothed a hand down her shorts, and gave a little shiver. “Brutal.” When she looked back she seemed uncertain. “Should I go?”
“Sir,” he insisted.
“Excuse me?”
Purposely he took his time walking a circle around her. With his hands clasped behind his back he made it clear he was debating. It wasn’t until he came around in front of her and stopped, that he said, “We needed to finish our relationship as Ms. Dodd and Z. From this point on, when you address me in private like this, you do so respectfully, understood?”
Yes, sir.”
“Good. Now that we have that settled, I’d like to know if there’s any reason you and I shouldn’t negotiate a scene together?”
“I’m not sure.”
Honest too. He liked her even better. “What are your concerns?”
He expected her to say it had something to do with them having met through her job. So when she didn’t use that as the perfect out, he decided she might be a woman he could fall for in a big way. Especially when she softly admitted, “I’d want more than one scene with you. I’m worried I’d become attached to you very quickly.” She searched his face. “If I were being truthful, I’d tell you that I’m scared because I already have.”
Hearing that a shot of adrenaline flowed through him as she’d put into words all that he’d been thinking. “It seems we share the same concern.”
He made note of the slight blush that stained her cheeks and was going to comment on it, but then she dropped her gaze and the words he wanted to speak were lost. Graceful beauty was what he was looking at here and he wanted it. He wanted to own it, live with it, and command it.
He cleared his throat. “Do you feel safe here?”
She nodded.
“I like verbal communication, pet. Talk to me.”
“Yes, I feel safe here.”
He wanted to see her eyes. “Look at me. That’s better.” He reached out and brushed a bit of purple bang aside, saying, “I propose we have a trial run. Right now.” He dropped his hand and then lowered his tone, “I won’t physically touch you.” He didn’t add because I’m afraid if I do, I wouldn’t stop. “We’ll play a little game called teacher’s pet. Does that sound agreeable to you?”
She swallowed hard and then caught herself when she was going to nod. She made the correction and spoke instead, “Yes, sir.”
His heart beat heavily against his rib cage. She seemed eager and willing. The thought that he could have made this interlude much different for the both of them, crossed his mind with a vengeance. But he didn’t want to sprint with her. He’d rather wait for the marathon. “Do you have any questions you’d like to ask me?”
“No, sir.”
That mistake made him smile. “Tsk, tsk. I gave you a great opportunity to prepare yourself and you tossed it aside.” He turned and walked to the ladder back chair near the exit.
“Sir?”
After he sat and made himself comfortable he answered her, “One question you should have asked was what kind of teacher am I? As a math teacher I might be inclined to give you equations to figure out and when you got one wrong you’d have to do something to make up for it. But then, we aren’t physically going to touch during this scene, so we’ll save that dynamic for another time.” He bent forward, bracing his elbows on his knees as he studied her, letting the silence between them grow until she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Was she getting restless?
He hoped so.
“I could be a history teacher and make you act out famous people from ages past. Lady Godiva comes to mind.” He straightened and said, “Or I could be a science teacher, determined to show his student how pheromones are released in the body.”
“I-I understand.”
“If you did, you’d know another question you should have asked was what kind of student you are? You could be a girl who’s shy and unassuming. That would make the math teacher in me choose the hardest equations for you to solve. I’d want you to fail so you’d have to perform difficult and highly intimate things for me in order to make up for the answers you got wrong. Maybe you’re a curious student who is eager to learn. Who’s like a cat, so inquisitive and eager to purr. That would cause the history teacher in me to pull out all the stops. I’d highlight times and places from the past, starting with the caveman era when a man took what he wanted from his woman, to the Victorian age, when there were so many different devices to intimately experiment on a woman with hysteria caused by sexual repression. As a historian I’d probably want to document all my findings for posterity.”
He leaned back and stretched out his legs with a sigh. “Here again though, this course would be so much better if there was physical touching involved.” He crossed his arms over his chest and said, “So we’ll reserve playing it that way for another time as well. It occurs to me that this not touching does present a certain amount of drawbacks, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Fortunately, the best teachers are the ones who can encourage and inspire their students despite forced limitations.” He uncrossed his arms and sat forward, holding her gaze. “With those in mind, I choose to be a sexual education teacher who will require active student participation in class studies today.” God he loved how her eyes brightened and her blush deepened with pleasure. He’d made the right choice putting distance between them. Even now his hands itched to get a hold of her. “Unfortunately though, the student I’ve chosen to partake in active studies today is frigid. She has no knowledge of how the intimate aspects of her body function. She, that would be you, has never touched her sex let alone gotten herself off. If you understand the scene explain it to me. Otherwise ask me questions.”
“You are a sex-ed teacher and I’m a naïve student who needs to be taught the basics about how her body works.”
He lifted his chin. “Sexually.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Before we begin class I want you to repeat this phrase ten times. ‘My name is Violet Smith and anything my teacher asks me to do, I must do, or I’ll be punished’.”
“My name is—”
“Take off your top, Violet.” He waited until she had it off and dropped the halter to the floor before he whispered, “Now begin. Speak loud and clearly. Straighten your shoulders. Are you cold, Violet? No, don’t look down.”
“No, sir. I’m not.”
“Very good. Begin.”
“My name is…”
Xander listened to her repeat the phrase while he examined her spiked nipples. The coral colored peaks continued to pucker to tight little points, as she spoke. When she’d uttered the phrase for the fifth time by his count, he interrupted her again. “Take off the shorts, Violet, and whatever you’re wearing underneath them.”
She did as she was told. Efficiently, if not a little hesitantly, and he wondered if that was part of her getting into the scene or whether she was truly nervous. There was only one way to find out. He stood and moved the chair so that it was set right in front of him.
She was nervous all right. Her voice, when she spoke the phrase for the last two times, faltered.
“Very good, Violet.” He brought the chair with him as he went to her. “I’m going to put this down right here.” He showed her and then stepped back. Distance was his friend right now. “All I want you to do is sit.”
She looked at the chair and then up at him. “Do you have a preference on how I sit, sir?”
“I do.” He mockingly frowned. “But I would think a naïve young woman who’s naked and nervous in front of her teacher would rather choose how she sat in the chair. That way, when she’s ordered to readjust it’s because she was told do, not because she positioned herself contrary to her frigid nature to begin with.”
Her eyes widened and then she practically jumped forward before she seated herself in the chair with legs crossed. One look at her and the idea of keeping a few feet of distance between them went out the proverbial window. Oh, he’d make sure his hands were clasped behind his back so he didn’t touch her, but his words? He had the greatest desire to stroke her with them. To keep his tone low, husky, and spoken directly in her ear, so that each syllable touched her in places his hands could not.
Yeah. By the end of their lesson he wanted her to forget what kind of student she was. He walked around behind her and bent, breathing in her ear. When she closed her eyes he whispered, “My shrinking little, Violet. Uncross your legs and put your palms flat on your thighs. Good girl. Now spread your thighs for me. Open wide enough that backs of your knees come to rest on the outside edge of the seat.”
She was slow to move, but when she did it was something to see. Like a flower opening to the morning sun.
Beautiful.
Empowering.
“Don’t tremble, Violet. A woman being taught new and pleasurable things should shiver with want. Wasn’t it Ghandi who said, live as if you were going to die tomorrow and learn as if you were going to live forever? That’s how I want you to think of this lesson. Respond to me as if this was your last chance to have the experience, but enjoy it, so if you ever get the opportunity to repeat it, you’d know well and truly how to surrender to it. Are you ready to please me?”
“Yes.”
He smiled against her temple and then pressed his lips to her skin. This time when she moved it wasn’t to tremble, but a sexy little shiver. “Very good. Now, let’s see how close you can come to earning a new grade in my class. It’s the elusive O…”

Heh. Okay, so I lied when I said this was the last scene. I couldn’t help it. The story/scene kind of goes where it wants to and Xander had a mind of his own. That said, I will finish with this little short story, soon. In the meantime. I say we do our drawing. This will be the last time for additional comments to get your name in for more chances to win. I’m going to do the drawing on Wed. August 19th. I will email the winner Wednesday night and post about them on Thursday the 20th. Good luck!
As always, thanks for stopping by!
Riley


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WE HAVE A WINNER AND LOOK AT WHAT HONEY FOUND! YAY!

August 12, 2015

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Thanks to all you guys who left comments about your favorite quotes! Sandy’s name was pulled out of the hat so she won a signed print copy of PUSHED and a 25.00 Amazon Gift certificate. Congrats! :)

Okay…Now onto what Honey Found. Heheheh.

photo 3 (11)

Here’s most of the stuff from our original big giveaway. I think I’m missing the apple candle (which I found after I took the picture) and the clothes peg flash drive (which I found as well) Now, what I added to this (or rather, what Honey did, are the bangles). I was going to give you guys a choice between the silver and turquoise cuff he bought and these bangles – but then I remembered about the Guess bracelet and with it being silver I figured the gold bangles would be better to add for variety. (We’ll do the silver cuff bracelet for Persuaded’s release)

So, this is how it goes.

I asked him, “Hey, why did you buy this color jewelry?” (both the cuff and bangles have turquoise color in them)

He says, “It’s your favorite color.”

Me. *blink blink* “You do know these aren’t for me, right? That I’m giving them away?”

“Yeah.”

“So you could have bought any color you wanted.”

“I like turquoise on a woman. The best gift I ever bought you was a turquoise and silver bracelet.”

“Oh.” This was good to know. I was a little surprised that he remembered that little gift. “Okay.”

So there you have it folks. Honey got a purchase right when we were kids. I think I was seventeen at the time. The purchase was special to me, not so much because it was the right color, but it was an item he’d bought me for no particular reason. There was no special occasion, birthday or anniversary. He’d just seen it and thought of me. When he gave it to me he told me just that. He said that he thought about me a lot when we weren’t together. So yeah, I still have that tarnished item, by the way. *sniffle, sniffle* Good times to remember. But back to how this pertains to my giveaways.

I’ve told Honey that in the future, if he screws with my swag stuff and has to make up for it by adding an item to a giveaway, he can’t buy jewelry. His comment about that?

“Alrighty, stuffed animal it is.”

If you can imagine me scowling as he walked off, please do so. Did I mention the second gift Honey got right when we were young was a stuffed frog that was as tall as me? I always loved frogs and when we went to a big fair our first summer together he won it for me. Unfortunately, my mother gave that gift away to one of her friends kids while I was working one day, so I don’t have that anymore. She thought I was nuts when I freaked out over it. I loved that frog. I always put it on my bed after the bed was neatly made and it stayed on my bed when I slept. How could she have given it away? *sniffle, sniffle*

Point is? Do not be at all surprised if Honey has to buy something for a giveaway in the future and it turns out to be a stuffed animal frog. That’s all I’m saying.

I think it’s kind of romantic and speaking of romantic. I have the giveaway stuff in my hot little hands – and our remodel isn’t even done. How is that possible, you may ask? Well…Honey went to the storage unit and searched for my stuff. Actually he went there twice. A week ago Sunday, he told me he had a surprise for me. It was very nice. He’d gone and pulled out the container that had my books in it. He’d also bought the bracelets to make up for packing my stuff away. Unfortunately, the swag stuff was in a different container so he had to go back and search for that last weekend. Thankfully, it’s all here now. *I think*

photo 2 (15)Here’s a better picture of the bangles. They are very sparkly. I should have the last Master X and Naomi scene done this weekend and then we’ll do the giveaway. How does that sound?

Thanks for stopping by and can’t wait to get this one shipped out!

Riley


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