Friday, February 5, 2016

Skin and Scars Chapter 11

Hello again, loyal readers. I'm back with another update. I'm so happy you all are still here and are still enjoying this story. I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint. Enjoy!


And an updated Table of Contents.

Tuesday, February 2, 2016

Lies, All Lies

Hey guys! My name is Gemini (my astrological sign is Gemini. Whatever, big difference.) I'll spare you the long introductory speech I prepared (I'm new here, hope you like my stories, feel free to tell me if they're crap/totally awesome, etc.  etc.) but I'm just gonna say that I actually didn't know that devoteeism was a thing until about a month ago, and I'm so glad to find like minded people. Anyway, enjoy and feel free to fly by me any ideas you'd like to see in a future story.  


Lies, All Lies


Lisa fixes the guy in front of her with a withered look. “It was a shark accident.” She touches the back of her buzzed head and winces, adding to the effect. “Last year, off the coast of my beach house in La Punto, Peru. I was… jet skiing, and I fell back and then this shark chomped the back of my head. He barely missed my brain, but I had to wear a helmet for the next few months until my skull grew back.”
Lisa checks his face to see if she’s gone to far, if he’s throwing back his hands all like, whoa there girl, you’re pulling my leg. 
That isn’t happening. The guy’s nodding wisely, sympathetically, scrutinizing the black fuzz Lisa passes as hair for scars. 
She sighs a little on the inside. Okay, when she signed up for a waitressing job on a cruise ship, obviously she anticipated that there might be a little flirting going on. Maybe the cook would be cute and they’d make out in the pantry. Maybe she’d meet a kind stranger with old money, and it would be love at first sight as she served him his eggs Benedict. But this is pathetic. Yeah, the guy in front of her is hot shit, with tousled hair and razor sharp cheekbones and piercing blue eyes you could drown and die in, all that good stuff. But he’s as dull as a rock. 

Monday, February 1, 2016

Whitlash

New story. I've started this in a stream of consciousness, first-person perspective, present tense...so that may seem odd at first. Hope you still enjoy!

Whitlash


Day three of the power outtage. Day three bedding down in a quilted nest of sleeping bags and blankets in front of the fireplace. Day three of shrugging off expiration dates and convincing myself that al dente lentils wouldn't be so bad. In what feels like a bad sharknado spin-off, it has snowed for 8 of the last 10 days—which means I'm 30% convinced that an abominable snow shark has migrated from the Canadian coastal hinterlands and is swimming through frozen white waves inland. It's going to come breaching up out of the banks and squash my (less-idyllic-than-one-might-imagine) glorified cabin here in Whitlash, MT.

Whitlash is technically the address – but honestly, I can't get mail here. With a buzzing population of 39 (provided that old Donaldson hasn't kicked the bucket, and Tina hasn't popped out her twins yet), one could say I'm fairly ice-solated. Seriously, I haven't seen another soul in weeks, and these puns are getting worse by the day. SEND HELP AND OREOS.

Saturday, January 30, 2016

How to Be Cool


It’s getting late. Where the hell is Owen?

Every day he does this to me, and I’m getting really sick of it. Ever since I got the Camry when I turned 18, Owen acts like he’s entitled to a ride home every day. He isn’t. Especially not when he can’t manage to make it out the door even once without forgetting something and having to go back for it. Today it’s his Spanish book. How hard is it to put a book back in his freaking bag after using it? I’m trying to be a good friend here, but seriously, he sucks.

My phone buzzes and I hope it’s Owen texting me he found the book. Instead, the text says: Didn’t leave it in the gym. Why did he look in the gym? Why on earth did he think he would have brought a textbook to gym class?  

I text him back: 5 mins and I’m leaving without you.

Sunday, January 24, 2016

Margaret's Chance Ch. 6

All this flurry of new activity (and snow, here on the East Coast) has inspired me (read: given me time) to finally finish up writing/editing/posting the next chapter of Margaret's Chance. I'm sorry it's been so long...*slinks away in embarrassment* I hope you all won't hold it against me (and Margaret and Finn!) too harshly!

Anyway, without much further ado, here it is: chapter six. 
And, because it's been a LONG time since I've updated...here's the Table of Contents too. :D

Hope it's to y'all's liking! :)

Friday, January 22, 2016

Skin and Scars Chapter 10

Hello everyone. (Waves awkwardly.) So, yeah, it's uh...been a while. I apologize for my absence. To tell you the truth, it has been difficult to find/make the time to dedicate to writing/editing/posting. I went to Europe in November, then Thanksgiving happened, then holiday parties happened, then Christmas, and then New Year's, etc. etc. Real life duties called. How dare it. Regardless, I am very sorry for delaying this installment.

To the person who mentioned this story on the message board: THANK YOU. You lit the fire under my rear to get this chapter up, and for that I am thankful. (You know who you are. I hope. Ha.)

Anyway, here it is. Enjoy. Please keep the hate mail to a minimum. ; )


Tuesday, January 19, 2016

Five Years

Five years of marriage is celebrated between a wife and husband. The careful planning to ensure the night is magical shows their adoration and care. Will their night be perfect?

 Story by Trixie






It was going to be special tonight, she had decided. It was their anniversary. Five years of marriage. Six years since they had met. He had fallen in love with her the moment he laid eyes on her. She had fallen in love with him two months later. They had moved in four months after that and then, they were engaged, married. Her parents, divorced, had told her she was a fool. That it would never last. That she was wasting her life. His parents told him that she was a gold-digger, what gold he had yet to work out, that she would abuse him and leave. Their friends had discussed them in hushed whispers. Advised against the wedding and then, started betting on how long it would take before their marriage ended. They had been wrong of course, they had all been wrong and neither husband nor wife were able to hide their glee at the fact that they had outlasted all the bets that had been placed on their marriage.