WHAT WOULD YOU DO?

 

Okay, so Honey and I were having one of our infamous chats about the universe and something interesting came up. Actually, *Looks right at you* several interesting things came to my attention, but I am going to focus in on just one.

An EMP attack of global proportions.

I know, deep, right?

For those of you who aren’t familiar with the term, it’s an Electromagnetic pulse attack that would basically wipe out our infrastructure. No electronics, no sewer, no electric, no water…yeah, no nuthin’ we’d be living like the cavemen in no time. *sigh* I hate to ponder about these things, but sometimes you have to.

*Thinks for a second* Then? *Points at you*

This doesn’t mean you can’t make the solution be one that is fun and uplifting to think about.

Honey calls this “my making Lemon meringue pie out of a watermelon moment”, but whatever.

So here’s the conversation:

I say, “You know I was thinking about imminent global threats today and this one came to me.”

“Oh boy.” He sat down and lifted a brow at me. “Am I going to need a drink, or will this just have me buying more life insurance?”

Haha! The latter was always a good idea. “No seriously. I was thinking about an EMP attack and it made very, very sad.”

Now both his brows went up. “I’d be devastated. No electronics? I’m the one who watches TV.”

Yeah, yeah, that was true, but for this conversation, I didn’t want to focus in on the fallout details. Hollywood and every Debbie downer on the planet had those things covered. I wanted to envision an upside to the end game of this kind of attack – any kind of attack actually. So I said this to him and funny enough – he was interested.

“An upside to societal breakdown? I gotta hear this and don’t tell me Batman arrives to save the day or that aliens land and stop the war.” He shook his head. “And don’t frown. I know you too well so I know how your writer’s mind works.”

*Raises my hand to you and acknowledges, guilty! I’m always inventing possible plot scenarios that cover just about any outlandish or fanciful thing* NOT that I was going to admit this to him. 😉 “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Pay attention. Imagine if you will—”

“Here we go,” he interrupted. *Le sigh* He’s such a guy.

“As I was saying. You know that stuff about Free Will I’ve been talking about? Well, suppose that’s the cosmic key to the universe? That earth is a Free Will zone and every life on earth only needs to claim it. I mean we give our will up to the government, banks, doctors, attorneys, lawyers, judges, police, military and don’t get me started on the IRS—”

“No fear of that. I want dinner tonight and we know what happens to those plans when you start talking about their 20 million dollar Star Wars extravaganza.”

“Great! Thanks for reminding me about that. It ties in with what I would do if an EMP attacked happened or was going to happen.”

He sat forward and tilted his head. “Happened? Are you going to shoot that BS about multi-dimensional universes and time travel and pirates and outer worldly vultures who you think have preyed on mankind long enough?”

“Abso-freaking-lutely!”

“I should have poured myself a drink.”

I waved him off and then launched into my brilliant and yet simple plan for the world. “Imagine this.” I have to become animated here or he stares at me like he’s watching paint peel. “There’s those in power who know how the game works – they’ve reached the end of the deck, they’ve played the Trump card and they still don’t like where this is going so they decide to do the EMP attack on America because it’s the world economy really—”

“No, it’s not.”

You see what he does? He cuts into my roll.

I scowl at him. “It’s the biggest consumer economy. Is that better?”

“I’m listening.”

“Well, being that it’s a game, and all have to participate to make it work, the power brokers have decided to jump start things with this kind of attack because their default position is always to create fear. BUT and this is a big but, there are too many people who are onto them. Ten years ago they may have pulled it off easily, but not so well now. Why? Because the swell of THE PEOPLE who are onto them decide to hold them financially responsible for what they’ve done to not only our country – but the entire world. We put our foot down and say that’s enough you have to pay up. We put such an astronomical number on the fine that they will all be broke for the rest of eternity.”

“That sounds pretty predictable to me. Wouldn’t they ignore you?”

“Us you mean. It’s a big collective and no. You see when you claim your FREE WILL they have no power over you in your past lives or future lives. You are no longer an earning product for them so they are without a means to make and attract tradable things of value for the rest of time. But you didn’t let me finish. What if we as a collective say to all those that disrupt and corrupt our planet that they can keep what they so far have collected – providing they didn’t steal or misappropriate those things of value – only if they leave this planet for good without any war, EMP attacks or nuclear attacks. Then THE PEOPLE would be free to live the way they were meant to live on this planet.”

He was silent for a second or two and then he whispered, “I don’t know how you do it.”

There’s me basking in the compliment thinking that I’d just come up with a plausible way to save the planet from the negative energy that is dragging our society down when he added.

“How do you sleep at night with all that crap rolling around in your head?”

Crap?

Rolling?

Nothing rolls around in my head, there’s no room. Every square inch is taken up by random and not so random thoughts – I assure you. To him, I said, “It’s easy. I figure somewhere out there in this sky or the galaxy above, the Creator of Souls is listening to me. And, being that he’s the gifter of FREE WILL he will see the sense in this plan. The only fly in the proverbial “Save the Universe” oil?”

“What?”

“Is that stubborn people like you will look at me like you are now when I tell them.”

That’s when he smiled. A big, bright, smile that reached his eyes. “If I thought something like this was possible, you know I’d be all over it.”

“Sometimes you have to rely on faith alone.”

“I prefer reality.”

And I would have preferred to toss one of the envelopes on the table at him, but, *insert a deep breath here* I smiled back at him instead. Talking through my teeth I told him, “I choose to believe. This is why you and I make such a great pair. The more you deny the possibility of such a thing happening, the more I believe it will happen.”

His eyes widened and he smacked the table. “Unreal. You take the possibility of averting a dramatic fictional cosmic catastrophe and turn it into a husband smack down in the turn of one sentence.”

“Thank you. I’ll take that as a compliment because doing so requires finesse and talent, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah.” His smile eased and he sat back. “What would happen if I had taken what you said and embraced it as being possible from the get-go?”

I took a millisecond to think that over and then I didn’t even blink. “I’d suggest you head over to the doctor’s for a check-up. Clearly you’d be sick. I thought we’d already decided decades ago that I was here to save your soul? If you agreed at face value I would consider my job here done.”

“Meaning?”

“I’m glad you’re not the average Joe. I want more people like me to see that this world has some phenomenal secrets. There’s a special kind of magic and right now most of it is being corrupted by people who don’t have the heart or soul to wield it with grace and goodness.”

“Now.” He pointed at me as he nodded. “That I believe.”

You see? Honey does come around. It just takes a special way to deliver the message to him.

*Thinks about that for less than a millisecond when the epiphany comes to me*

Damn, he would have listened to me proclaiming to be the Virgin Mary if I delivered the message sans clothes. *Insert the action of a finger snap here* I wish I had thought of that tactic sooner. It would have saved me some grief. I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell him this without stressing him out too much. 😀

So…Anyone else have any great ideas on how to save the planet? The caveat has to be that we get rid of the bad guys who have screwed things up to a fair thee well AND whatever attack they were planning in the first place has to be adverted.

Heheheh. Here’s me with my author mind thinking, if we missed averting the catastrophe we could always bend time and put us back to the moment it happened and stop it from happening. I didn’t mention this to Honey because he has enough to worry about. Did I mention that I’ve got the poor guy fixing the electric/cable stuff in our house? Doesn’t sound so bad, but you have to remember our stuff is in the attic and it’s a cabillion degrees here. I sent him up there a few days ago and forgot to stick around the ladder to make sure he didn’t expire up there.

My bad!

Actually, I felt terrible when he came into the nice cool kitchen looking like he’d just gone for a swim. Poor guy.

As always, thanks for stopping by! And don’t forget to give me a great solution to our save the world challenge – Remember, the key is FREE WILL – Start there and then the person who comes up with the funniest or most creative method to banish the negative and criminal energy from the planet will get their name added three additional times to the big drawing we still haven’t done.

Geez…Caleb and Genevieve are a year older. Boy, do I need to get their story finished!!!!

Riley

A Night Spent With Honey That I Shall Memorialize!

 

I had to share. This had me LMAO!

Okay, so here’s the deal. We’ve had a boatload of company lately hence the slow blog posts being published – but we’re having fun with family so it’s all good. Anyways, Honey and I rented a pontoon boat and took the gang to a beautiful natural spring a few hours from where we live. We got to see/swim with all kinds of great wildlife (Lots of manatees) birds, fish, etc.

It was a wonderful day. Seriously. Great company and beautiful weather. So, when the day was over I was ready to fall into bed. Only? Honey was standing at the double doors to our room waiting for me.

*Looks right at you*

Honey doesn’t usually do this. We have a routine, you know? And this wasn’t part of it. So when I see him, here’s the conversation.

“Hey, is everything okay? What’s up?”

“I’m waiting.”

I shut the blinds on one of the sliders and ask, “For?”

“You. You gotta see this.”

So there I am heading into our room thinking the poochie, who has her own king-size doggie bed that I fluff for her every <- yes, you read that right! EVERY night, but the poochie princess wasn’t the issue as she was snuggled in waiting for mommy to tuck her into her top blanket.

Spoiled? Don’t ask. But I digress…

I stopped when I got into the room and saw that Honey hadn’t undressed. There I was thinking, Hmm…I bet I know where this is going. Inwardly I smiled and had that female attitude vibe happening when I coyly ask, “Okay, lover, what’s up?”

He flashes one of his patented smiles and says, “This.”

That’s when he takes off his shirt and I see the front of him. No word of a lie, people. He’s as red as a delicious apple from his broad shoulders to hips he’s one huge fireball. “Oh, boy.” I may have said that, but I was thinking, “Good, Lord, do we have some Noxzema in the house?”

I was just about to go find out when he announces in a deep and very husky voice, “Tonight, darlin’, you’ll be sleeping with Hellboy.”

Hahaha! True in every sense of the word. Actually, truer would have been Furnace-Boy – holy moly was he a bastion of boiling heat all night. *Le sigh* I found myself hugging the edge of the bed to keep away from the flames. Funny thing was, I kept teasing him during the day on the boat because he’d put the sunscreen on so thickly all over himself, he looked like Casper the ghost until the lotion was absorbed. How the heck did he wind up lobsta-red???

Crazy.

Upside? We now have enough money to visit all seven celestial planets at the end of the year on account of the swear jar being filled to overflowing. Between Honey and all my guests? Yup, I’ve been making out like a bandit on that score. 😉

So… *Looks around* How’s everyone doing? Good?

I’m looking forward to a week of carrying the pooch outside to go pee. I love having company, but my poor baby gets so depressed when our guests leave that she can’t drag herself out to handle nature’s call. Honey is convinced I’ve cultivated this behavior in our fur-baby, but I don’t think so. I mean, if I were inclined to cultivate anything in her it would be for her to learn how to do laundry.

*Lifts a brow at you*

Have I mentioned how much I hate doing laundry? And here I am today, knee deep in dirty sheets and towels. Yay!

Check back towards the end of the week when I’ll be doing our final addition to our giveaway before the big draw. I feel like PERMIT ME has taken a year to write – but hey, it will be worth it, I promise.

As always, thanks for stopping by.

*Smooches*

Riley

Holy Batman’s Under Amour! This IS A Drill!!!



Okay, I want a show of hands. How many people have heard of Operation Gotham Shield?

Yeah, me neither until a few days ago when someone on my twitter feed dropped a link. Love my Twitter friends! Anyway, for those of you who don’t know – this is a USA military drill exercise where they are going to pretend that a nuclear threat of 4 bombs have been discovered in 4 different locations across America. Two of these bombs will be terminated by our crack military people and two will -unfortunately (pretend) to explode. One over NYC and the other near the Canadian border.

Here’s the link: https://youtu.be/sz8gHF1kxYc

And here’s the conversation I had with Honey about it:

Imagine me pacing back and forth and frowning as I try to come up with a good “break the ice” intro into this one. *leans in to whisper* If you’re new to my blog and Honey stories, I should tell you the man doesn’t like to talk about covert operations, anything to do with ghosts, and nothing to do with our military doing training exercises after 911. Did I mention that they were doing a drill exercise – on the very day that the planes hit the towers? They were. Even more stunning is that the drill focused on hijacked planes hitting the twin towers. This is why Honey doesn’t like to think about that.

Me?

I think about everything. Yeah, I’m probably that person who would sit next to you during a scene from a scary movie and explain how they could have made the images scarier. Drives Honey nuts.

Yay! I live to make Honey bonkers! Poor Honey.

Let me set the scene. Honey and I sit down to have our afternoon chat and I decide on the old “ripping the band aid off” strategy about broaching the subject.

“I can tell you had a great day. You’re home early.” <- See what I did there? I killed all the birds with two observations. Now we could talk about what was on my mind instead miring through his work day. Brilliant, right? “My day was interesting. You know what I learned? The military are getting set to do Operation Gotham Shield.”

As expected he took a deep breath in and then let it out as if he was kind of deflated. “Do I want to know what that is? Remember I told you that I’m trying to destress? I stopped listening to the radio during the day and you know I watch my how-to videos and documentaries at night.”

And there’s me blinking not at all. “Yeah, yeah. I know. You want to know what Gotham Shield is. Trust me.”

After he agreed to listen, and I explain it to him, he shook his head and said, “This is right up there with Jade Helm.”

Hm. I probably should have asked if you’ve heard of that military project. Not that Honey and I discuss these things at lengths. We don’t. But we do shoot the breeze about the weird stuff going on in the world once in a while that has no basis in regular old common sense.

Here’s the link on Jade Helm. Reader’s Digest version? The military played war games for two months during 2015 in a few states. Some people weren’t happy about it either…but back to our conversation.

Thinking about the other military drill, in 2001 I said, “I’m praying that this Gotham Shield doesn’t have any reality thrown in. It better not.”

We’re both silent for a few seconds and then Honey nods. “Me too. Maybe we should insist all of Congress fly to New York at the beginning of the week and hold hands around the statue of Liberty while singing Kumbaya repeatedly.”

I would have laughed, but seriously, I was still mulling over the idea because maybe we should do that, 😉 when Honey says, “You never did answer me when we spoke about the Jade Helm project. Do you think it’s possible?”

Okay, I have to say here, that as it turns out some believe that Jade Helm is a super (Sky Net) computer in space that is learning how to program itself by watching humans. Actually, most people into the theory believe that she’s capable of figuring out how a person thinks and feel, and one day will be able to gauge how each person on the planet will react when put under stress or angst.

I think Tom Cruise did a movie about being arrested before he actually committed the crime type deal. (Asked Honey and he said it was called Minority Report) And being that this kind of future is so pessimistic for humans (I hate dystopia) I probably didn’t answer Honey the last time because it broke my heart to do so. Even still that didn’t mean I hadn’t given the topic a lot of thought since then and that’s why I had an answer for him now.

“I think it’s possible. Man is the most egotistical, arrogant and aggressive creature in the universe.”

“Here we go.” Honey did the big eye roll. “I’m guessing you’re going to be going full extraterrestrial on me.”

I sure was. “Yep. So, if, as I believe there are other beings out there in the cosmos, I have to think they are waaaay smarter than us.”

He lifted a brow. “Your point?”

“They’d meet Sky Net Jade and have a talk with her. Or better yet? She’d figure out all by her “genius lonesomeness”, what as*holes some on this planet are, and how the people have been led astray by said A-holes. If so I’d think she’d make the bad actors pay and let The People who desire peace and not war – live on this planet as they were intended to and not as slaves to commercialism and—”

“Whoa. I get it.” He sat forward and patted my knee.

Now I hiked a brow at him. “Do you?”

That’s when he gave me that smile and talked right through it. “Men are easily tricked, but duping a smart woman? Not good. Me thinks the bad actors will be frying their as*hole, a-holes off.”

I shook my head and that’s when he frowned, saying, “You don’t think Jade would make them suffer?”

“Of course she would. She’d be the perfect woman, once she finished programming herself, and do you know what a perfect woman would do to those who tricked The People?”

“I said. Fry them.”

“No, she’d reprogram the war mongers to be peaceniks. Think daisies in their hair and long flowing skirts.”

“For the women,” he said.

It was my turn to talk through my smile. “No. I was referring specifically to the men. Oh, and the liars of all genders would suffer for the rest of their miserable lives unable to tell a lie.”

“Saw that Jim Carrey flick. Man, that would be awful.”

Yeah, he said that with such conviction I was given to wonder what the heck he’s lying to me about…but then I’ll leave that discussion for another blog post. 😀

So, given that I’m taking my time with this next release. Caleb and Genevieve have a soul-touching relationship *sniffle, sniffle* I thought I’d add to our giveaway. This is what we have so far:

 

And this is what we’re going to add:

This smells great and since we’re talking about the Big Apple and James and Genevieve are planting an apple orchard in Vermont on the property that Caleb bought – I thought this would be great!

Here’s a chapter for you to get to know Genevieve and Caleb. And, just to be clear, when I say soul-touching, I mean that in a great way. They are two people who need each other and they really don’t know why until the very end of their story. Maybe that’s why it’s so hard for me to finally write that part. As you all know a happy ending is always guaranteed, so no worries – it’s just that they have shared so much with me, and reminded me of some very special things that Honey and I have shared over the years – I don’t want to let go.

The truth? These guys have captured a piece of my heart and I’m afraid I’m going to have to leave that part of me on the page with them when I finish their story. That kind of break-up is killer for me…but I’ll manage. This should be ready for release soon.

PERMIT ME

Chapter Nine

“I don’t blame you. Hate me all you want. I did what I had to do.”

Caleb stared at his brother as he continued to rub the knotted muscles that had begun to spasm on his upper thigh. “I don’t believe it.”

“It’s true. She didn’t want the reward money.”

“She’s French.” He had no idea why he said that.

“She speaks beautiful English. More precisely and better than you.”

Caleb glared. “She dresses better than me too. What does any of that have to do with you selling me out?”

Ethan tossed him a towel and a bar of soap. “I didn’t sell you out. You smell like shit. And what’s with the Joe Manganiello look? You need to shave.”

Caleb shifted forward and winced when another spasm ripped through his muscles. “What if I refuse?”

Ethan crossed his arms over his chest and he instantly recognized his older brother’s stance. It screamed, “I dare you.” What did that tell him? He needed to get out of this another way.

“Fuck.” Caleb swore, lifting his leg down from the chair he’d had it stretched out on. “Fine. She wants a green card, how many years do I have to stay married to her for her to qualify for it? Two? I’ll sign the license and be done with it.”

“What?”

Caleb put the towel and soap aside and then reached for the bottle of tequila, unscrewing the top. “The marriage license. I’ll sign on the dotted line and she’ll get her American dream. End of story.”

He took a swig of the liquor without taking his eyes off his brother. Ethan looked uncomfortable or was he surprised? Didn’t matter. “Isn’t that what you wanted to hear?”

“Yeah it is. I’m just a little stunned you’re not bitching more about it. It’s three years by the way.”

Caleb shrugged. What the hell did he care how many years? “Fine by me.”

“Hm. By the way you’ve treated all us guys when we’ve come to stay, I would have thought you’d be a little more combative. Michael said you threw the lunch he made for you yesterday in the toilet.”

Caleb had scraped the disgusting congealed macaroni in the can, but he wouldn’t have done it if he’d thought Michael was watching. Wait. What did the guys coming here and stepping on his last nerve pulling unnecessary nursing duties have to do with Frenchie obtaining a green card? Unless… “Oh no. She’s not staying here with me.”

Ethan uncrossed his arms and frowned. “Where else would your wife stay?”

“No. She’s a green card digger, not my wife.” He tried to stand up, but failed. Of all the times to have left his cane on the bed. Damn it. He downed a good bit of the tequila instead, and then used the bottle as a pointer toward his brother. “Besides, she’s a crackpot.”

“Funny.” Ethan walked over and took the bottle out of his hands, taking a large pull of the liquor before he said, “She told me she was your soulmate.”

He reached forward and grabbed the bottle back. “And you believed her? You’re as crazy as she is.”

He didn’t like the way his brother was eyeing him when he mused, “Maybe. I guess we’ll find out soon enough, won’t we?”

“No.”

There was no hesitation when Ethan shot back a firm, “Yes.”

“Does Alistair know about this?” He needed an ally here. Someone who would be reasonable. An unbiased third party who’d see the sense in putting her up in her own home a few states away from where he was living until she got that fucking card as a thank you.

“Alistair was the one who informed me that you had to cohabitate in order to pull off something like this. It was just that we planned to wait on this until you weren’t so…”

So much for unbiased. He narrowed his eyes. “So…what?”

“Surly. I know it’s the pain bothering you and you’re probably wise not to be downing Vicodin, that shit’s addictive, but seriously, pounding back tequila isn’t helping either. Have you thought about doing some sort of therapy?”

“For what exactly? The pain? That’s what you think my problem is?”

Ethan’s tone was quiet, almost gruff when he asked, “Are you still having the nightmares?”

Yes, he had pain. Absolutely, he had nightmares. These things, given what he’d been through, were to be expected, weren’t they? What he hadn’t counted on was the sense of loss that was more crippling to him than his bum leg. “She’s not staying here.”

“She will reside here. I made a deal. Your life was saved. And now it’s time to pay up.”

He didn’t say anything. He just stared at the tequila bottle knowing there was no way he was going to agree to this.

Never.

*****

Genevieve waited until Ethan finished speaking before she clasped her hands together and said, “I am very glad Caleb has recovered. Although Colin has kept me informed on his condition, hearing from you puts my mind completely at ease. But as you can see, my things are all packed. I’m leaving America in less than a week so while I appreciate the offer, what you’re proposing isn’t possible.”

“This.” He swept a hand toward the neatly stacked boxes against one wall in the room. “Will only speed things up when we call the movers and relocate you to Vermont.”

She shook her head. “I’m sorry. It’s not that easy.”

Genevieve wished it were. She’d lain awake many nights trying to get a handle on the situation, but it always circled back to the same conclusion. No matter how adamant she felt about Caleb being her soulmate and that she was supposed to be here. Not just in America, but somehow a big part of his life, she couldn’t consciously force him into being with her when he didn’t want to.

Ethan took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he sat down on the arm of the couch opposite her. “This is your chance at a green card.”

“Not my only one. Maybe you hadn’t heard, but Matt was ready to fulfill the original bargain we’d made once he got out of the hospital.”

Ethan leaned forward and some of that stoic Dom control he was a master at maintaining slipped. “I heard about that, and it does make me wonder why you didn’t take him up on it?”

He looked so much like Caleb in that moment her heart rate kicked up speed. But then his Dom-shield was back up, and she automatically told him the truth. “Before I met Caleb, I asked my friend, Matt,” she emphasized, so he’d know there was no romance between them, “to help me for the express purpose of buying me some time in order to meet my soulmate. But then I met your brother and that express purpose was no more.”

Ethan frowned and sat back. Clearly he was thinking all this through when he asked, “But initially in Cape May when you first met Caleb you were willing to put the need for a green card out there. He told me about that. Even later, when you came to Silver Lake, you and Colin seemed pretty set on blackmailing me into agreeing to that as the stipulation for the information you gave me. I’d like to know why.

She held his gaze without a falter. “Because he’s mine, and at the time the card was a good excuse to get to him.”

Although he tried his best, she caught his initial surprise before he could hide it. Once he had though, he shook his head. “I should have said why, now that I’m here, have you changed your mind about wanting a green card, but more specifically him?”

She lowered her gaze and whispered, “Personal reasons that I’d rather not share.” If she ever did it would be directly to Caleb. No one else.

The quiet that stretched out between them then was intense to the point of suffocating until she couldn’t take it anymore, and looked up. She was fully prepared to use the only logical argument that made sense enough that he’d stop pressing her on this. “What kind of soulmate would I be if I  forced Caleb to do something he doesn’t want to do? Your brother doesn’t want to marry me, Ethan. He made that very clear when we were in Cape May. He told me straight out that his bachelorhood wasn’t for sale. In effect he said that he had a big life planned and it didn’t include me. A woman he didn’t love, who only wanted to claim her American dream.”

Ethan’s chin dropped to his chest and then lifted again. “I’m sorry. Caleb’s a little rough around the romantic edges sometimes.”

That made her smile because being the protective big brother was causing him to walk a fine line here. “You may swear in front of me, sir. You can say he’s an asshole. Believe me, I won’t mind.”

Ethan laughed, but the sound quickly petered out when it appeared that something had just occurred to him. Now he was frowning again. “Genevieve, you do know that Caleb’s not a Dom.”

She nodded. “I know. He told me that too.”

“But you’re a sub?”

Why some people needed to spell everything out and put labels on things was beyond her. She was what she was. “Yes.”

He stood and looked as if he was going to say something, but then he shook his head and began to pace. Back and forth. Back and forth, before he stopped. “I can’t help wondering how you ever thought this would work between the two of you.”

She’d wondered that herself, but not for the reason he did. “I’ll admit I did have reservations.”

“So this was a waste of—”

“Not because Caleb and I have differing views of the lifestyle.” She looked away and then looked back. “We actually never discussed the topic at any great length. I heard about his views from Colin and it makes perfect sense to me since you’ve made such a commitment to this aspect of your life. It’s only natural he’d want to find his own path. And I may be veering off the subject of Caleb here, but I think you need to consider the reality of most submissive women. I’m positive it’s far different from what you think, sir.”

Ethan stopped pacing and clasped his hands behind his back. “How so?”

“A woman gives her heart unconditionally. But the heart of a submissive woman? It’s given wholly. If she doesn’t get what she needs from her man, whether he is her definition of a Dom or not, she would never belittle or place judgment on the kind of attention she does receive from him because he is hers. I think if you asked, most submissively inclined women will go to great lengths to get what they need without breaking that emotional covenant.”

He inclined his head. “Alright. I’ll ask you. What lengths were you prepared to go to when dealing with Caleb over this?”

Genevieve unclasped her hands and smoothed her palms across her linen skirt. This admission wasn’t an easy one. “I would do what every submissive does who aches to be mastered by the man she loves when that man can’t or won’t do it. I’d invent being taken in hand by him in my mind. I’d turn him into the Dom I needed him to be in my fantasies. Sometimes…” She paused here for a moment and then ended her little speech by saying as upbeat as possible, “Sometimes this way of things is better than the reality. Less complicated. N’est-ce pas?”

Ethan was studying her as if he was seeing her for the first time, and that kind of laser-focused attention made her a little uncomfortable. She sat up straighter. “But to get back to why I had my own reservations about this? Caleb is not really my type.”

Ethan’s gaze drilled through her. “And yet you insist, still if I’m correct, that he’s your soulmate.”

“Yes, yes.” Genevieve stood and now she was the one pacing. “It makes no sense.” She halted when she was right in front of him, and then looked up. “I’m afraid your brother is too nice for my liking. He smiles a lot and…and…he’s jokey.”

Ethan scowled and when his hands landed on his hips in a commanding way, well, this wasn’t the first time she wished Caleb would be more like that. “Jokey?”

She rolled her hands like she was looping twine. Slightly flustered because she hadn’t meant to share so much with him. “The funny man. He’s—” She let that last thought go with a wave of her hand, and stared at a spot on his shoulder. She didn’t want to meet his eyes. “It doesn’t matter. None of it does. I’m not going to force him—”

“I already did.”

Her gaze shot up and she frowned. “I don’t understand.”

His hands went from being balled on his hips in a semi-intimidating position, to lifting between them in supplication. She looked down at them and then back up. Gone was all his Dom-like demeanor, in its place was every bit of the frightened older brother of the man she was meant to love.

“Caleb is in pain.”

“Yes, I know.” She urgently searched his face. “Colin said his leg was healing though. It is, isn’t it?”

When he ran a hand through his hair and looked away, she held her breath until he said, “It’s not physical pain. It’s something more than that. Deeper.” He sighed and then seemed really angry saying his next words. “They took a piece of his soul and I—”

She held her breath again.

“If I have to I’ll—I’ve come here to force you to—”

She was steadily breathing once more. She had to in order to keep up with the adrenaline racing through her that was fueled by hope and a building sense that all the murkiness she’d been wading through over the situation with Caleb was about to disappear. She had no idea how all of it would work out in the end, but at least he was offering her a beginning. “Yes?”

“—to find the part of him they stole and give it back to him. I’m not asking you to marry him, Genevieve. I’m telling you that you must if you truly believe he’s your man. He needs someone in his corner right now and you’re our last hope.”

This was it. Her reason. The reason. She dove forward and gave Ethan a hug, wrapping her arms around his middle while she laughed, and yes, even cried a little with relief. “Thank you, sir.”

He put a hand on her back, and she knew she’d probably caught him off guard when he said, “Whoa. You’re thanking me? I expected you to yell at me when I said the thing about force.”

She finished squeezing him and then stepped back, shaking her head. How could she explain to him that she’d needed another way and he’d just given it to her? She beamed. “I never yell.”

One of his brows went up. “Never say never. And remember that you thanked me.”

“I will, but why do you want me to remember?”

Ethan led her out of the living room toward the front hall. “Did you ever hear the story about Androcles and The Lion?”

She looked between him and the glass panel at the front door. There were men standing out on the stoop. “Of course. Are those men with you?”

“Yes, the movers. Now about the story. Do you remember how miserable the lion was when he had the thorn in his paw…?”

By the time he finished retelling the whole tale she had a lump of worry in her throat. Brooding and surly? What had they done to her man?

“Oh, you are a soft one, aren’t you?” Ethan tipped up her chin and made a tsk, tsk sound as their gazes locked. “You can’t let him know it. He’ll bully you if you do.”

She needed to show him that she was stronger than he thought. “If I understood your version of the story correctly, sir. The lion becomes the slave in the end. Caleb’s the lion, so…?” Now she lifted a brow at him, and when he laughed she knew she’d succeeded.

“Hm. There might be hope for the two of you yet, French-fry.”

“French-fry? That’s not very nice.”

“Take it up with my brother.” Ethan opened the doors and told the guys to back the truck up into the loading zone as there would be a move today.

When he closed the door she asked, “Why would I take up the name calling with Caleb? You said it.”

“Yes, but he said it first. To a buddy of mine, David Hollan. I believe his exact words were, “She’s an adorable little Frenchfry that I’m having a hard time not eating.”

She felt her face flush with pleasure, not embarrassment. “Your brother does like food.”

“Yeah, I’m fairly sure he wasn’t fantasizing about potatoes when he said it. May I help you pack?”

All she could do is blink as he sauntered off toward the kitchen.

Could it be true?

Suddenly the term French-fry didn’t seem so bad after all.

Ethan swung around. “Are you coming? Colin’s expecting us for dinner in a few hours so we need to get cracking. I’ll tell you about the wedding plans and the move as we finish boxing up your stuff.”

Genevieve nodded. Showing him into her room. She was just about to tell him that she meant what she’d said earlier about being all packed when he looked around and made a low whistle.

“It’s all done.”

“Yes. Now you can tell me about the plans.”

And her future brother-in-law did.

(END)

As always. If you are a subscriber you are automatically entered in our build-a-givaway. If you leave a comment on any of the build-a-giveaway posts your name gets added to the finally draw hat additional times for each comment for more chances to win! Yay! I love more chances!!!

Thanks so much for stopping by. Next up? Honey and The Case of The Missing Five Hundred and Sixty Thousand Dollars…

*Looks right at you* Trust me. You don’t want to miss this next post (I should have it done this week). Why? Honey cracks me up. *shakes head*

Take care,

Riley

Permit Me! Coming Soon and A Giveaway!

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This is my next full length single title story. It’s Caleb and Genevieve’s journey. Love these guys! If you click on the photo you’ll be directed to the YouTube video – or you can click the link below that I’ve left for you. 😀

We have two winners!!!

One winner will receive this:

Resin-Middle-Finger-Wall-Hook-d2cce210-3913-4548-8f40-1874876360e9_600

Congrats to Laurie – Celticfairemom

And the other has won our build-a-giveaway with all kinds of stuff:

romeo1

Congrats to Drmchr!

Thanks for all you guys playing!

Now, we will have a “build-a-giveaway” for Permit Me, starting in January, but I want to do a Holiday one too. Still thinking about that. I will probably post the details by Friday. It’s getting close and I don’t want to miss it. Stay tuned!!!

As for Honey stories? I do have a whole pile of them since we spent quite the adventure time together driving up to Georgia. Haha! Eight hours in a car? Yeah, *looks right at you* I usually fly there and Honey drives with all the bags, but not this time.

*Taps index fingernail against my front tooth, thinking*

Ooh, I know. I could tell you about our Name That Tune contest that’s really easy now that the dash computer display in my car not only spells out the song. It also gives the artist name, the date, and the production company the song was recorded by. Would it be bad of me to tell you that I dimmed the dash screen lighting – so much so that Honey couldn’t see the small text while he was driving?

Oh, man, don’t look at me like that. It was fun until he started beating me! Yeah, you heard me. Turns out I was having trouble spying the “low back-lit” screen and Honey…? Have I mentioned he knows a lot about music? He knows who sings what songs and everything? No? Well, he does and it’s really REALLY annoying. Hence me trying to cheat. But anyways. We’re maybe four hours into our trip so I’m exactly half as happy as I’m going to be when we finish this eight hours of hell – when a Dire Straights song comes on. Honey starts singing it after he tells me the title and name. He’s pretty good, too. Again, annoying? Don’t ask. So I wait until it’s over, and then I say, “Those guys only did one good song.”

Truthfully? I had no way to know this I was just taking a stab – that missed it’s mark when Honey shook his head and for the third time *drags hands down sides of face* and annoyingly holds up two fingers, making a peace sign – like right in front of my nose.

*Stares right at you* Let’s just multiply the concept of being annoyed by 20 okay?

And he says, “Two.”

There’s me thinking two what? Fingers? Times of him being annoying? Couldn’t be two more hours – I knew we were stuck in the car for another four.

“Two what?” I asked.

“They did two good songs. Did I ever tell you about the time…”

I wanted to scream. We’ve been married for 30 years! I’ve known the guy since I was thirteen! He’s told me about all his “times”. And, if he didn’t, I was either there with him during “the times” or it was dangerous territory for him to bring up, you know what I’m saying? 😉

I was just about to share this when I realized he was telling me about the time I fell asleep in the backseat with the kids on our trip down to Florida. It was a beast of a journey, don’t mind telling you, but the moral or his not-so-subtle story? Maybe it was time I climbed in the backseat and had a nap. Why you may ask?

He said I was annoying him.

Me, *Blink-blink*

Gotta love men, right?

Actually, it’s women who take the cake, because not only did I NOT take the hinted-at nap he suggested, I decided to pay closer attention to Honey. I talked and talked and *sigh* talked some more. Heheheh! That’s one way of getting a first class seat on a flight without any complaining next we head north.

Don’t tell. 😀

Any of you guys have any good men in cars stories?

As always, thanks for stopping by!

Riley

Here’s Caleb and Genevieve’s book video link. (click here)

 

A NEVER DO THIS STORY! AND ADDING TO OUR GIVEAWAY!

 

domestic dispute

Yesterday morning started off harmless enough. I had coffee with Honey and we discussed what we both had planned for the day. But then somehow his plans of going to pick up the furniture I bought at the auction turned into me going with him and then…? Disaster!

*Holds up right hand and solemnly swears*

I so did not know that those cabinets, chests, and wardrobes I purchased were all oversized! But you can bet your sweet *ss the second the three men wheeled the first one onto the loading dock I knew. Not because I got a better look at the pieces in question, but because I got a load of the smoldering fury in Honey’s eyes.

*Looks right at you* It was bad, guys. Very, very, bad.

I could bore you with all the traveling home details surrounding the epic domestic dispute we had, but I’d rather not think about it ever again. Honey was like a broken record with his, “Are you crazy? Where is all this going to go?”

*Leans in to whisper* Just in case you’re wondering, I planned to put all the pieces in my closet. *Scowls as I straighten* Aw, don’t look at me like that. I have faith it will all fit in there. Man, you guys are as pessimistic as Honey. But then that’s not the point of this post today, so I’m going to leave this right here and get to what is.

*Scowls at you as I straighten*

Aw, don’t look at me like that. I have faith it will all fit in there. Man, you guys are as pessimistic as Honey. But then that’s not the point of this post today, so I’m going to leave this right here and get to what is.

DON’T CUT YOUR NOSE OFF TO SPITE YOUR FACE!

That is the theme of today’s post and exactly what I did yesterday. After arguing about the furniture and what I wanted to do with it, Honey said, “I haven’t even painted the room yet. Where do you expect me to put all this until I do?”

I did have some interesting ideas about where he could stick it but don’t ask. I’m sure I’ve mentioned before how I come up with these plans that he calls “crazy”, and then has to apologize to me in the end because they usually turn out be wonderful…well, this is going to be one of those times, but he really wasn’t seeing it. So what did I do? I challenged him. I said I’d paint the closet myself and the furniture that was going into it (because that was the plan for the furniture).

Normally, when we reached an impasse like this he’d sigh and say he’d take care of it, but he wasn’t going to be happy about it. Yesterday? Nothing. Nada. He may have remained silent all right – too bad I saw the “You paint anything? Ha! Oh sure you will.” look written in his still-smoldering eyes which lit a fire under my butt to paint that room and start on the furniture before he got home from work.

*Pulls up a chair and turns it so I have to straddle it backward before I give you the skinny about what kind of mayhem ensued*

If this was a Hollywood movie script I’d be able to say the painting went off without a hitch.

*Sigh*

It didn’t. I got paint on the floor, the walls that weren’t supposed to have this color on them, and paint all over me, and Honey’s favorite brush. Heck, the outside of the paint can had more paint on it than the can had in it by the time I was done.

*Shakes head*

The point here is that I had to finish painting the closet fast, so that I could concentrate on scrubbing the floor, the walls that weren’t supposed to be that color, the can, Honey’s brush, and then myself before he came home. I wanted everything to be perfect and come off appearing to have happened effortlessly.

*Looks right at you*

It was like cleaning up after a crime scene. I could not believe it. Seriously. Two hours to paint, and six to clean up? I’m pretty sure that is not how this is supposed to work.

But there I am when he got home yesterday. I was all clean and shiny with a newly painted closet. Everything was in perfect order. Really. I may have been exhausted and silently swearing to every God that would listen about how I would never – ever challenge Honey over painting, or furniture – again when I see him eyeing his favorite paint brush. The one I’d used and had set across the top of the super clean can of paint I’d meticulously scrubbed clean of all pig-pen evidence.

I was getting a bad feeling when I asked, “What? Why are you smiling?” I feared I’d missed something.

Nothing but his eyes moved when he looked at me. “You made a mess, didn’t you?”

*Side-eyes you* How the hell did he find out? I hope none of you told him. 😉

I narrowed a look at him. “Do you see a mess anywhere? I defy you to find one speck of paint – one drip or drop on the tile. Go look.”

“Don’t need to do that. My brush told me all I needed to know about what went on in this closet today.”

“Oh really?” I figured he was screwing with me so I waved him off. “Is the bristly one an oracle or something?”

“No, but it is the cleanest it’s ever been in the last two years.”

*Stares right at you* Okay, who keeps a brush for two years? And…? &*&%$!! I’d over done it. I overplayed the cleanup hand.

Fantastic.

Moral of the story? If you want to have a “So There!” moment with your significant other over painting a room in the house just so you can rub the paint in his face? Hire a professional to do it and pay them cash so there’s no paper trail, that’s all I’m saying. 😉

Meh, in the end, I had Honey in stitches when I told him about how my painting extravaganza went. When I got to the part where I explained how I could barely hoist the roller up because it was too heavy from all the paint I’d loaded on it, he was chuckling. But then when I got to the part where I’d put that weighty beast on an extension he burst out laughing. I do have to pause here to say, when Honey does this it looks easy so I thought why not, right?

Wrong.

The thing was, the roller end was terribly heavy that when it hit the top of the wall by the ceiling – the idea was for me to gently guide it down, but instead it kind of slid and then before I knew what happened there was a huge paint smear, NOT a roll – down the length of the wall. In fact, the roller hit the floor so hard paint splattered on the tile, me, and the ceiling. That’s what took me so long to clean up.

*Insert a Homer Simpson shudder of remembrance here*

The area where that happened looked like I’d used the paint can as a pinata and blugeoned it with a sharp knife. >.<

What am I doing today? Not painting, I can tell you that! 😀

*Clears throat*

Now, onto better things…

sheep counting

This is the next item to go into the giveaway. We’re less than a week away for my release and drawing! Yay!

Now I know a stuffed little lamb/sheep is an odd thing to add, but there’s a reason I was thinking about this adorable little guy. It’s the same reason I was thinking about the toe ring. It’s pertinent to the story, but before I get to that, here’s a reminder of the other items in the giveaway:

toe ring

Toe ringphoto 2 (61)

Mystery box (you find out what’s inside on drawing day)

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Silver and turquoise cuff bracelet

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And a mug with a 25.00 Amazon Gift Card inside

 

Below is a scene in the story that happens after Michaela and James’ story actually starts. The previous scenes I posted dealt with their history together – so this one is in the thick of things in their adult relationship together. Poor James…

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(Excerpt)

 

Michaela closed her bedroom door and fell back against it. Her heart pounded and her adrenaline was high. His desire had been a tangible thing, filling the room and surrounding her at certain points, but he still held back. Why?

She closed her eyes and softly banged her head against the door. If she didn’t get the romantic ball rolling with him soon, her every chance with him could disappear. She hated having to throw Logan in the ring every time to get a reaction from James, but damn, how else could she…?

Suddenly another idea came to her.

She opened her eyes and looked down at the package. Did she dare?

The sounds of James moving around in the room next door cemented her decision. Absolutely. She’d do it.

In fact, by the time she’d washed up, unpacked the box of toys, and had given them a thorough going over, she’d convinced herself that James had really left her with no choice in the matter.

 

 

James got into bed and was determined to push thoughts of his in-name-only wife out of his mind. He was ready to count imaginary sheep, pennies, bouncing balls, real balls—fuck—a picture of himself stationed quite happily between Michaela’s legs as he slammed into her over and over materialized—no.

“Think sheep. Count sheep. Sheep, sheep, sheep,” he whispered. Hoping to use this power of suggestion technique to his advantage. And it was working. He was slowly drifting off to sleep watching the…mechanical sheep? He tried to sink deeper into oblivion by overlooking the gears and metal parts that made the robotic animals leap effortlessly across the starlit landscape in his mind until…

He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. Why was he dreaming about mechanical—?

“Oooh…”

That soft moan woke him right up, and when he snapped into a sitting position he knew why he’d been dreaming about machines. Mickey had opened her package and if he didn’t miss his guess, that was a Hitachi humming away.

“Unfucking believable.” He fell back in a sprawl and blinked through the darkness. One upside? She wouldn’t last long. That monster had some serious power.

“Ummm…”

Her deep and elongated purr got him instantly hard, but he ignored the inconvenience and enjoyed the ensuing silence for a second or two before he shifted onto his side and punched his pillow a few times. Finally satisfied, he muttered under his breath, “Called it.” That whole pleasuring session had barely lasted a minute, thank Christ. For once he was praising a woman who liked to rush things.

Bzzzzzzzz…

He was in hell. He had to be. The second time took longer than the first, but her moans were shorter and more breathy.

Not good.

He rolled over onto his back when everything went silent again. Seriously ready to put the last hour behind him when…?

Bzzzzzzz…

He sat up and raked a hand through his hair. This was worse than hell and she needed a spanking for putting him through it. He tore off his covers and was just about to get up and march to the door when the sight of his hardened cock stopped him.

He couldn’t go chase her down sporting an erection with her name on it.

Brilliant.

He fell back onto the mattress for the second time tonight and—what was he doing? Why was he fighting this? How long had been since he’d jerked off without help from an accommodating sub? Too long, and that dry spell was going to break pronto.

He did a little brush-over meet and greet, after all, it had been a while, and then he took hold of his shaft with a firm grip.

Not too bad.

“Oh. Oh. Oh.”

Yeah, he’d take her lust-fueled whispers and use them to their best advantage as he tightly fisted himself and pumped.

The speed of the vibrator was kicked up a notch, he could tell. The increased speed elicited another “Hmmm…” out of her.

He pumped harder.

And then harder.

And when she huskily cried out this time he came so hard his cock pulsed in his palm as if it was trying to escape his grip, while white-hot shots of come jetted out of him.

He paid less attention to the end result than he did to examining the beginning, or middle as it were, and didn’t like what he saw there.

Him, having rough sex with himself.

If that didn’t beat all.

Bzzzzzzz…

“Oh, fuck no,” he whispered. He shifted his head on the pillow and stared at the door that separated their rooms. Her light was on and then…?

“Yes, yes, yes.”

He heard her soft little whispers and knew it was game-on for her again. That’s when he shrugged and readjusted. Why the hell not? At least he wouldn’t be stuck counting mechanical sheep for the rest of the night.

This time when he got himself off, all his thoughts were focused on an image of Michaela. Her, in those red stilettos, bending over for him while he slowly took down her pretty lingerie and spanked her ass for touching what was his. For abusing his property with the Hitachi.

Only he was allowed to do that.

The last image he had of her, just before he ferociously came a second time, was her on her knees, between his legs, begging him for forgiveness, and sucking him off while she worked hard to maintain eye contact with him because he didn’t make it easy for her.

“Damn…”

“James? Did you say something?”

He opened his eyes and shot a look to the door. Wholly relieved when he saw the door was still closed. She must have called to him.

“No. Good night, Mickey,” he called back.

“Mike.”

“Beauty.”

He thought he heard her mutter, “Jackass,” but he was too tired to argue the point. Maybe he’d bring it up tomorrow.

Maybe…

(End)

So you guys know the drill. If you’re a subscriber, you are already entered for a chance to win, but every time you post a comment to one of the giveaway posts your name gets added to the hat again. Good luck! I can’t wait for you to meet James and Michaela!

In other news stuff: If you’re a blogger and want to sign up for a tour you can click here. If you are on

If you’re a blogger and want to post this on release day, see details and sign up here

If you’re a blogger who would like to sign up for a review tour of Stare Him Down you can find details and sign up click here.

If you are a reader on Goodreads and want to add this one to your “to read” pile you can click here.

And, if you’d like to enter for a chance to win a first edition autographed print copy of this book, click here.

As always, thanks for stopping by!

Riley