Sand Castles

Thursday Thirteen - Restrictions

2011-09-29T10:27:00.000-04:00

I recently received a general list of does and don'ts for elevated cholesterol. So, it seemed a good idea to share and hopefully get some commiseration. Here are thirteen things I'm told to avoid:

1. Processed meats such as bacon, bologna, and hot dogs

2. Whole milk

3. Cheeses over three grams of fat/ounce (Swiss, American, and cheddar are specifically listed, sigh...)

4. Butter

5. Coconut

6. Egg noodles

7. Cream cheese

8. Doughnuts and pastries

9. Croissants

10. Potato chips

11. Solid shortening/lard

12. Ice cream

13. Chocolate

While many of these aren't too much of a hardship, I'll have to get more specifics. After all, I have to find something convenient for workday mornings and don't want to end up on cholesterol medication if I can help it.

Thursday Thirteen - Female Crooners

2011-09-15T04:29:00.000-04:00

Last week on my Darla M Sands blog I listed music groups fronted by females. In that case, I owned entire albums. To be fair, I thought I'd list those talents who are represented in my collection by anthologies and soundtracks. I know I've missed more than a few but here goes...

1. Martha Reeves - "Dancing in the Street" from The Big Chill soundtrack

2. Nancy Sinatra - "These Boots Were Made for Walking" from the Full Metal Jacket soundtrack

3. Lady GaGa - in a duet with Marilyn Manson on "LoveGame"

4. Paramore - "Decode" from the Twilight soundtrack

5. Eurythmics - "Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)" off my eighties collection

6. Medicine - "Time Baby III" from The Crow soundtrack

7. Fiona Apple - "Sally's Song" from The Nightmare Before Christmas collection

8. Teena Marie - "Lead Me On" from the Top Gun soundtrack

9. LaVern Baker - "Soul On Fire" from the Angel Heart soundtrack

10. Nena - "99 Luftballons" from Sounds of the Eighties

11. Bananarama - "Cruel Summer" off Class Reunion '83

12. Aretha Franklin - "Think" from the Blues Brothers soundtrack

13. The Dixie Cups - "Chapel of Love" from the Full Metal Jacket soundtrack

Thursday Thirteen - Shinedown

2011-09-01T11:03:00.000-04:00

Today I thought I'd share thirteen tracks from one of my favorite rock groups. These are from the album "Leave a Whisper":

Fly From the Inside

Left Out

Lost in the Crowd

No More Love

Better Version

Burning Bright

In Memory

All I Ever Wanted

Stranger Inside

Lacerated

Crying Out

45

Simple Man

Thursday Thirteen - Vacation Requirements

2011-08-18T10:37:00.000-04:00

My partner and I cannot decide upon a vacation destination. So, the idea arose to create a list of trip preferences. Here goes:

1. A need of my never used passport

2. Wildlife viewing, perhaps interaction

3. A health club

4. Gambling, preferably a craps table for my partner

5. Boating

6. Ooh, and fishing

7. A private beach, perhaps

8. Isolation from street crime

9. Fine dining

10. An all-inclusive resort is starting to sound good

11. Adult beverages included

12. Plenty of quiet and relaxation

13. Adults only

I think a tropical resort might just be the way to go. What's your ideal vacation?

Thursday Thirteen - Jelly Belly Flavors

2011-08-04T02:13:00.003-04:00

Out of all the flavors available in these incredible beans, I'm going to list thirteen favorites.

Orange Sherbet

Watermelon

Coconut

Cinnamon

Cappuccino

Strawberry Jam

Tutti-Fruitti

Caramel Corn

Raspberry

Toasted Marshmallow

Strawberry Cheesecake

Bubblegum

Buttered Popcorn

The final is my favorite. What might yours be? And can somebody tell me how they isolate these realistic flavors? I have a forty-nine flavor variety package at home and none of the tastes contaminate the others. That's almost as amazing as the realism!

How do they keep the flavors from mingling in the bag?

Thursday Thirteen - A Bountiful Year

2011-07-21T01:38:00.032-04:00

Spring blooms on my Buckeye tree

Amorphophallus Konjac's stinky "corpse" flowers

A Centranthus perennial in my front cottage garden

Some weeds can be easy to tolerate

Hellebores thrive in my shade garden

Another shade lover whose name escapes me

My "Crimson Queen" Japanese maple needed a trim by the time the lilac bloomed

My miniature backyard pagoda

"Hen-and-chicks" succulents thriving in a gap in my retaining wall

Another view of my Centranthus next to once-colored Columbine

Lilly-of-the-Valley is a persistent perennial around since before we moved in

A dandelion at the local park

Hollyhocks about to bloom were prettier before they blossomed and the heat zapped their zeal

Thursday Thirteen - The Things People Say

2011-07-07T00:11:00.002-04:00

A friend introduced me to a blog with some really funny exchanges between customers/callers and an employee at a London bookstore. Here is the website if you’d like to read more:

Jen Cambell Blogspot - Weird Things Customers Say in Bookshops

1.
Customer: Hi, I'd like to return this book, please.
Me: Do you have the receipt?
Customer: Here.
Me: Erm, you bought this book at Waterstone's.
Customer: Yes.
Me:.... we're not Waterstone's.
Customer: But, you're a bookshop.
Me: Yes, but we're not Waterstone's.
Customer: You're all part of the same chain.
Me: No, sorry, we're an independent bookshop.
Customer: ....
Me: Put it this way, you wouldn't buy clothes in H&M and take them back to Zara, would you?
Customer: Well, no, because they're different shops.
Me: Exactly.
Customer:... I'd like to speak to your manager.

-----

2.
Person: Hi, I'm looking for a Mr. Patrick.
Me: No one of that name works here, sorry.
Person: But does he live here?
Me:... no one lives here; we're a bookshop.
Person: Are you sure?

-----

3.
Customer: Hi, if I buy a book, read it, and bring it back, could I exchange it for another book?
Me: No... because then we wouldn't make any money.
Customer: Oh.

-----

4.
Me: Ok, so with postage that brings your total to £13.05. One second and I'll get the card machine."
Customer: No. No, absolutely not. I demand that you charge me £12.99. I will not pay for anything that starts with thirteen. You're trying to give me bad luck. Now, change it or I will go to a bookshop who doesn't want me to fall down a hole and die. Ok?

------

5.
Pizza Delivery Man [entering the shop with a large pile of pizzas and seeing me, the only person in the bookshop]: Hi, did you order fifteen pizzas?

-----

6.
Me: Hello, Ripping Yarns Bookshop
Man: Hello, is that Ripping Yarns?
Me: Yes, it is.
Man: Are you there?
Me: How do you mean?
Man: I mean, are you at the shop now?
Me: Erm... yes, you just rang the number for the bookshop and I answered.

-----

7.
Customer: Hello, I'd like a copy of 'The Water Babies,' with nice illustrations. But I don't want to pay a lot of money for it, so could you show me what editions you do have so I can look at them, and then I can go and find one online?

-----

8.
Customer: Do you sell ipod chargers?

-----

9.
Man: Hi, I've just self-published my art book. My friends tell me that I'm the new Van Gogh. How many copies of my book would you like to order?

-----

10.
Woman: Hi, my daughter is going to come by on her way home from school to buy a book. But she seems to buy books with sex in them and she's only twelve, so can I ask you to keep an eye out for her and make sure she doesn't buy anything inappropriate for her age? I can give you a list of authors she's allowed to buy.
Me: With all due respect, would it not be easier for you to come in with your daughter?
Woman: Certainly not. She's a grown girl, she can do it herself.

----

11.
Customer: Do you have any books on the dark arts?
Me: ...No.
Customer: Do you have any idea where I could find some?
Me: Why don't you try Knockturn Alley?
Customer: Where's that?
Me: Oh, the centre of London.
Customer: Thanks, I'll keep my eyes peeled for it.

-----

12.
Customer: I'm just going to nip to Tesco to do the weekly shop. I'm just going to leave my sons here, is that ok? They're three and five. They're no bother.

-----

13.
Customer: I read a book in the eighties. I don't remember the author, or the title. But it was green, and it made me laugh. Do you know which one I mean?

----

Thursday Thirteen - Wishful Thinking for the Perfect Day

2011-06-23T01:29:00.002-04:00

Since I'm still working a day job outside the home, here is what I hope for on an average day in the future:

1. Wake early without an alarm

Thursday Thirteen - The Haiku of Matsuo Bashō

2011-06-09T01:08:00.000-04:00

Thanks to my friend Pack Rat, I was recently reintroduced to the works of Bashō. Here are thirteen translations from "The Sound of Water":

This bright harvest moon
keeps me walking all night long
around the little pond

-

But for a woodpecker
tapping at a post, no sound
at all in the house

-

A lovely spring night
suddenly vanished while we
viewed cherry blossoms

-

Singing, planting rice,
village songs more lovely
than famous city poems

-

Come out to view
the truth of flowers blooming
in poverty

-

Autumn approaches
and the heart begins to dream
of four-tatami rooms

-

On Budha's birthday
a spotted fawn is born -
just like that

-

Winter showers,
even the monkey searches
for a raincoat

-

The morning glories
bloom, securing the gate
in the old fence

-

That great blue oak
indifferent to all blossoms
appears more noble

-

With plum blossoms scent,
this sudden sun emerges
along a mountain trail

-

Clouds of cherry blossoms!
Is that temple bell in Ueno
or Asakusa?

-

Ungraciously, under
a great soldier's empty helmet,
a cricket sings

Thursday Thirteen - Kit Kat Flavors

2011-05-26T01:42:00.026-04:00

I have continually run into mention of Kit Kat candies from various Japanese related blogs and web pages. As a result, I decided to look up what flavors are available. Here are thirteen of them, of which there are close to a hundred!

1. Beet - can't imagine this one

2. Wine - red or white?

3. Pumpkin - I just don't know about this one

4. Sour Orange - with chocolate this could be good

5. Ramune - a soda drink flavor

6. Sakura Macha - cherry blossom green tea

7. Pepper - I presume it's the spice, which just sounds disgusting

8. Miso - not surprising but it doesn't sound good to me

9. Aloe Vera - is this a candy or a skin treatment?

10. Daigakuimo - sweet potato; really?

11. Cucumber - now they're just trying for strange

12. European Cheese - as opposed to American processed slices, I presume, but nasty sounding either way

13. Creamy Apple - huh?

Thursday Thirteen - Amazing Japan

2011-04-28T01:23:00.058-04:00

I’d like to share a collection of unique ideas from Japan I’ve been gathering. I hope you enjoy.

1. Namazu-e – the ancient myth that giant catfish cause earthquakes; a lot of the art was politically charged regarding those that benefit from having to rebuild

2. Chickens Suit – the brainchild of an Australian brought to fruition in Japan. Note this stylish bird’s wearing an homage to Australia’s flag; there is a similar one in the style of Japan’s flag

3. Pluto-kun – a character designed to advocate the safety of plutonium in the early 1990’s for Japan's Power Reactor and Nuclear Fuel Development Corporation

4. Cute posters – not entirely a unique cultural element but I love this poster promoting power saving during this difficult time in the country

5. Hello Kitty – you can buy everything from toasters to vibrators with this Sanrio character (personally, I have a pen, some notebooks, a bat plush for Halloween, and a marshmallow lollipop – what can I say?)

6. Anime – has anyone not run into this? I’m neither a reader nor a watcher but I do love the artwork for “InuYasha, a Feudal Fairy Tale”. Gotta love a scruffy dog boy

7. Hentai – meaning “sexually perverted” in Japanese vernacular, the term covers a full range of fetishism in both real life and pornography; the program “Madventures” showed the host in a full body suit being ridden by a girl dressed in a manga costume

8. Language – with no spaces between words, the Japanese use five character sets and words borrowed from many other countries: hiragana (phonetic), katakana (phonetic for foreign words), kanji (Chinese characters), rōmaji (Roman letters), and Arabic numerals; here’s a random, mostly inclusive sample:
コンビニエンスストアの LAWSON 店舗にて、払い戻しをし

9. Samurai – the teachings and discipline still have resonance today

10. Visual Kei – a sub genre of J-rock that is stunning to both eyes and ears; here’s an image of X Japan from the eighties

11. Mascots – the Japanese use them for everything; this odd one was created back in 2008 for the 1,300th Anniversary of the Nara Prefecture capital

12. Kimono – still in use today for mostly formal occasions (I want the one pictured)

13. Hanami – this traditional custom of flower appreciation takes on a whole new meaning when the cherry trees are in blossom

Thursday Thirteen – The Smallest Tree in the World

2011-04-14T04:19:00.012-04:00

1. Salix herbacea is also called Dwarf Willow, Least Willow, or Snowbed Willow.

2. It is a tiny creeper which grows to only 1-6 centimeters in height.

3. Technically, it is merely one of the smallest woody plants on Earth!

4. The roughly circular leaves are 1-2 centimeters long and wide and appear shiny green.

5. The scientific family of the plant is called Salicaceae, which covers a broad group of flowering plants.

6. As the family grouping suggests, the Dwarf Willow does flower.

7. These flowers are called catkins, which do not have petals.

8. Like all willows, the plants are considered either female or male.

9. Catkins on the male plant appear yellow while they are red on the female version.

10. They live at over 1,500 meters in the southern range of their sub-Arctic habitat.

11. The tiny fellows can also be found at sea level in the Arctic.

12. Widely distributed on both sides of the North Atlantic, the miniscule plants thrive in tundra and rocky moorland.

13. This tree would make an instant and easy Bonsai!

Thursday Thirteen - Favorite Restaurants

2011-03-31T03:55:00.001-04:00

Stress at work has translated to an unhealthy habit of regular eating out. As a result, I thought I’d list my favorite eateries.

1. Kai Sushi Café – fresh and varied menu; wonderful staff

2. Cazadores – good fish tacos

3. Applebee’s – I like their weight conscious menu

4. Red Lobster – yummy trout

5. Max and Erma’s – tasty burgers

6. BW3 – they employ my favorite bartender

7. Buffalo Jack’s – elk steaks

8. Pappadeaux Seafood Kitchen – huge, juicy raw oysters

9. Olive Garden – I crave their seafood brodetto

10. Bravo! – more tasty seafood

11. Rooster’s – Buffalo chicken pizza

12. Thai 9 – awesome curry

13. Jay’s Seafood – quality cuisine in a neat historical building

Thursday Thirteen - Thirteen Ghosts

2011-03-17T01:06:00.001-04:00

Here are the thirteen tortured spirits from the 2001 movie, a remake of the original "Thirteen Ghosts". I've never seen the original but can't get enough of Tony Shalhoub in this version.

1. The First Born Son - The First Born Son is the ghost of Billy Michaels, a boy who loved Cowboy films. One day a neighbor found a real steel arrow in his parents' closet. He challenged Billy to a duel, with Billy using a toy gun. However, his plaything was no match for the arrow, and he died when the neighbor shot it through the back of his head. In death, Billy is in his cowboy suit and holding a tomahawk, with the arrow still protruding from his head. His ghost whispers "I want to play" or "play with me."

2. The Torso - The Torso is the ghost of a gambler called Jimmy "The Gambler" Gambino. One day he made a deal with a rich business man, and when he bet heavily on a boxing match and lost, he tried to renege his bet and slip out of town, and so sealed his fate. The mob and the winning boxer, to whom he owed money, caught up with Gambino and cut him into several pieces, wrapping them in cellophane and dumping the corpse into the ocean. His ghost is just his torso, trying to walk around on its hands, while his head lies nearby screaming within the cellophane.

3. The Bound Woman - The Bound Woman was a cheerleader named Susan LeGrow, who was born privileged and had a penchant for seducing men and tossing them away. When her boyfriend found her cheating, he strangled her and killed the other boy. He buried her body at the 50-yard line of the local football field. Her ghost is in her prom dress, hanging suspended by the belt used to strangle her, and her arms tied behind her back. Before he was hanged, her boyfriend was quoted as saying "The bitch broke my heart, so I broke her neck".

4. The Withered Lover - The Withered Lover is Jean Kriticos, Arthur's wife. She was burned severely saving her family from a devastating house fire, and died of her wounds in the hospital. Her ghost initially appears in a hospital gown, hooked up to an IV pole and showing severe burns on her face. Unlike the other ghosts, she is not a vengeful spirit, electing to help her family rather than show malevolence.

5. The Torn Prince - The Torn Prince is the ghost of Royce Clayton, a gifted baseball star in high school, albeit with attitude issues and a superiority complex. In 1957 he was challenged by a greaser named Johnny to a drag race, but was killed as his car spun out of control and flipped over; the cause of the accident, a cut brake line. He was buried in a plot of earth that overlooked the baseball diamond. His ghost carries a baseball bat, and parts of his body are torn to shreds from when he was dragged under the car.

6. The Angry Princess - The Angry Princess is Dana Newman, who did not believe in her own natural beauty. Abusive boyfriends fueled her low self-esteem, which led to much unneeded plastic surgery for imagined defects. She got a job working as a plastic surgeon's assistant, getting paid in treatments instead of cash. When she tried to perform surgery on herself while she was alone in the hospital one night, she blinded herself in one eye and mutilated herself beyond any saving. She committed suicide in the bathtub by slashing her body repeatedly with a butcher knife. Her ghost is naked, still carrying the knife she killed herself with, and the inside walls of her cube are splattered with her blood.

7. The Pilgrimess - The Pilgrimess is the ghost of Isabella Smith, an Englishwoman who traveled across the Atlantic and settled in New England during colonial times. She was an outsider to the town she moved into, and this isolated her from the other townsfolk. She was the poor scapegoat of the townsfolk when livestock began to die mysteriously. To try to get rid of her, the townsfolk locked her in a barn and set it on fire with her inside. To all of the town's surprise, she emerged from the wreckage without a single burn on her body or clothes. When this happened she was sentenced to the stocks with no food or water until she died of dehydration and malnutrition. As a ghost, she is still locked into her stocks.

8. and 9. The Great Child and The Dire Mother - The Dire Mother is the ghost of Margaret Shelburne, who was an attraction in a carnival due to her being only three feet tall. She was raped by the "Tall Man," another carnival freak. Her son, Harold (the Great Child), was born as a result of that rape; he eventually weighed over 300 pounds (136 kg). Harold, spoiled, was raised as his mother's protector and kept a child-like mindset, to the point that he wore diapers his entire life. One day some of the carnival employees decided to play a little practical joke on Harold, and kidnapped his mother. In a psychopathic rampage, he set out to look for her, destroying all in his path, but when he caught up with the culprits, he found that his mother had accidentally suffocated to death in the bag that she was kept in. Harold killed the kidnappers with an axe, keeping their remains and displaying them for paying customers. When the owner of the carnival found out what Harold had done, he ordered a mob of people to tear Harold apart. Their ghosts are always together, and Harold still wields the ax and wears a bib stained with food that his mother has spoon-fed to him. An alternate version of the story is told in the DVD commentary: It was said that their deaths were caused by the Great Child rolling over on the Dire Mother while asleep, thus suffocating her, then as a result him starving to death after suffering from depression and guilt, plus the fact that he had no one to feed him.

10. The Hammer - The Hammer is the ghost of a blacksmith, George Markley, who lived in a small town in the 1890s. He was wrongfully accused of stealing, and when threatened with exile, refused to leave town. A gang led by his accuser hanged his wife and children and burned their bodies; in revenge, George used his sledgehammer to beat the culprits to death. He was then subjected to a cruel form of frontier justice by the townsfolk, being chained to a tree and executed by having railroad spikes driven into his body with his own sledgehammer. As a final touch, they cut off his hand and attached the sledgehammer - handle and all - to the hand that was cut off. His ghost is seen with the railroad spikes protruding from his body and a sledgehammer for a left hand.

11. The Jackal - The Jackal is the ghost of Ryan Kuhn, who was born in 1887 to a prostitute. Ryan had an insatiable lust for women, rape, and murdering prostitutes. Wanting to be cured, he committed himself to Borehamwood Asylum, but after attacking a nurse, he was put in a straitjacket and thrown in a padded room. After years of this imprisonment, he went completely insane, scratching at the walls so violently that his fingernails were torn completely off. The doctors kept him permanently bound in his straitjacket, tying it tighter when he acted out, causing his limbs to contort horribly. Still fighting to free himself, Ryan gnawed through the jacket until the doctors finally locked his head in a metal cage and sealed him away in the dark basement cell. There, he grew to hate any kind of human contact, screaming madly and cowering whenever approached by a human being. When a fire broke out in the asylum, everyone but Ryan escaped. He chose to stay behind and face the fire. As a ghost, his arms are free from his jacket, and the bars of his cage are ripped outwards.

12. The Juggernaut - The Juggernaut is the ghost of a serial killer named Horace "Breaker" Mahoney. Standing seven feet tall, he was of such grotesque height and appearance that everyone ostracized him as a child. His mother abandoned him at birth, so his father raised him, putting him to work in the junkyard crushing old cars. After his father died, Horace was left on his own, and soon went mad. He would pick up female hitchhikers on the road and drive them back to his junkyard, then tear them apart with his bare hands and feed them to his dogs. One day he picked up an undercover female police officer, who called for backup, bringing a SWAT team to surround the junkyard. Since close combat was impossible, the police instead struck the yard, and arrested the giant. However, Horace broke free from the cuffs, and three officers lost their lives. Quickly, five SWAT officers took out their guns and brought Horace down in a hail of bullets. When he finally went down, they shot an extra round of ammunition into him, "just to be safe." His ghost still shows bullet holes all over his clothing, and the round that finished him, in the center of his forehead.

13. The Broken Heart - The thirteenth ghost lost a great love, but I don't want to tell you more in case you haven't seem the movie.

Thursday Thirteen – Studs and Bitches

2011-03-03T04:06:00.000-05:00

Don’t get too excited, this is about dogs. Here are thirteen of the innumerable breeds.

1. Miniature Schnauzer – my parents have had two great ones

2. Rough Collie – who doesn’t like Lassie?

3. Doberman Pincher – my grandparents had a wonderful one named Pierre

4. Dalmation – though hyperactive from what I’ve heard, I will always think of the Disney movie in connection with this breed

5. Afghan Hound – these elegant creatures always remind me of a friend; that family’s beautiful female was a goof at heart

6. Border Collie – the multicolored eyes and merle (speckled) coats are gorgeous

7. Akita Inu – this Japanese dog is one of the oldest dog breeds in the world; it was actually used to hunt large game in previous generations

8. Borzoi – the Russian wolfhound has amazing speed and lean good looks

9. Puli – my partner tells fondly of a neighbor’s dreadlocked specimen

10. Shi Tzu – the hilarious mockumentary “Best in Show” cemented this breed in my mind as a real darling

11. Chow Chow – while I know of an abused specimen that never did like children, I think they are great

12. Rottweiler – I’ve wanted one of these gentle beasts since first seeing them in a horror movie; a friend breeds some real sweeties

13. Mutt – while not a breed but a mix, like my mixed breed cats (moggies), they are the hardiest of the lot and I grew up with two wonderful female mutts

Key to My Heart - Chapter Two

2011-02-19T18:01:00.005-05:00

For Chapter One, please click to read on my Darla M Sands blog:

Key to My Heart - Chapter One

Chapter Two:

Thursday Thirteen - Little Blessings

2011-02-17T04:46:00.000-05:00

Thirteen spur of the moment things I’m grateful for while compiling this list:

A Valentine's Day Ficlet

2011-02-14T09:48:00.000-05:00

My Boyfriend's Back

A Short, Sweet Romance

by Chrissy Olinger

Paranormal/Fantasy Romance only .99

15,826 words

Available on Kindle
from Amazon.com -- BUY IT NOW

"Fear not! I bring you tidings of... DAMMIT!"

With those few words, Jack Lynch's world was turned upside-down. Once the nerd everyone loved
to torment, he has returned to his home town for his twentieth reunion. Now a multimillionaire, Jack has everything but the one thing that matters: his
true love. Twenty years ago he let her slip away. Now he's back, and determined to win her heart.

But screeching tires on an icy road change everything. If being temporarily dead weren't bad
enough, Norman— an angel in training— returns Jack's spirit to the wrong body— the class bully, John Lydon.

With the rockin' hot bod of his former nemesis, the help of a nerdy angel, and his own wits,
Jack has to get Rori to see him, love him, and bring about a miracle... without revealing this true identity. The clock is ticking, and he only has three days.

Jack's got the brains; his new body has the brawn; and Norman's got his back. What could possibly
go wrong?

*This book contains some mild language, no strong sexual content, and an excessive amount of silliness.

Interested? I am...

2011-02-13T17:53:00.000-05:00

"Kama" by Paul G Bens, Jr.

2011-02-11T09:44:00.002-05:00

Check out this hot, free m/m read from Paul G Bens, Jr.

Kama

~~~

Thursday Thirteen - Year of the Rabbit

2011-02-02T22:28:00.000-05:00

We're well into the New Year but I'd like to share these vintage Asian postcards celebrating past years of the rabbit. It amazes me how many ways artists through the decades have portrayed the creatures.

Thursday Thirteen - Yogurt

2011-01-20T01:52:00.012-05:00

A. Catherine Noon and I were discussing our mutual appreciation of yogurt. As a result, I’ve listed thirteen uses for plain, fat free yogurt.

Movie Review of “The Sensei”

2011-01-08T13:39:00.001-05:00

When buying the 2008 movie “The Sensei”, I expected a GLBT version of “The Karate Kid”. That’s not a bad thing, either. I knew that a gay youth learned martial arts to defend himself and that his teacher was a woman with a somewhat troubled family past. Learning that the storyline took place in the eighties only deepened my anticipation.
Read more »

Thursday Thirteen - Cinnamon Schnapps Drinks

2011-01-05T23:24:00.000-05:00

When the holiday season ends it's not unusual to find yourself with oddball liqueurs. As a result, I've compiled this list of cinnamon schnapps drinks. Even though some of the other ingredients are considerably more exotic, it still seemed like this would result in some fun mixing.

1. Astro Pop

1/4 oz. Blue Curacao
1/4 oz. Cinnamon Schnapps
1/4 oz. Goldschlager
1/4 oz. Jagermeister
1/4 oz. Midori
1/4 oz. Rumple Minze

Layer in the order given and it should look like an Astro Pop popsicle.

2. Dragon Piss

4 oz. Mountain Dew
1 oz. Cinnamon Schnapps
3/4 oz. Butterscotch Schnapps

Mix and give to the loser at cards.

3. Jack Ass

1 1/2 oz. Cinnamon Schnapps
1/2 oz. Yukon Jack

Pour into a shot glass and slam it back.

4. Atomic Fireball

1/2 oz. Bacardi 151 Proof Rum
1/2 oz. Cinnamon Schnapps
dash(es) Tabasco Sauce

Pour and enjoy!

5. Sepultura

1 Beer
1/2 oz. Absinthe
1/2 oz. Cinnamon Schnapps (Preferably Golden Stryke)

Mix the two spirits in a shot glass, drink one quarter of the beer, then drop the full shot glass in the beer glass and shot it all! Remember Sepultura means Grave in Portuguese!

6. Original Sin

12 oz. DNA Alcoholic Spring Water
1/2 oz. Cinnamon Schnapps

Pour DNA and Cinnamon Schnapps over ice in a cocktail glass. Stir and serve.

7. Red Panties

1/2 oz. Cherry Pucker
1/2 oz. Cinnamon Schnapps

Layer in a shot glass and shoot

8. Carrot Cake

1 oz. Butterscotch Schnapps
1 splash(es) Cinnamon Schnapps
1/2 oz. Irish Cream

Pour the butterscotch into a glass, then mix in Irish Cream. Dribble a splash of cinnamon schnapps on top and serve! Delicious with or without ice.

9. Candy Cane

4 oz. 7-Up (Or Sprite)
2 oz. Cinnamon Schnapps
1 oz. Cherry Juice (See instructions)

Mix with ice and strain into a cocktail glass. Garnish with a cherry. Note from the person who submitted the recipe: By cherry juice, we mean the cherry flavoured water mixture from those little bottles of cherries that the grocery stores sell.

10. Did You Get the Number of That Truck (punch)

8 cups Squirt
4 cups Apple Schnapps
4 cups Whiskey
2 cups Cinnamon Schnapps

Mix in a punch bowl and serve in a highball glass.

11. Green Machine

1/4 oz. Absinthe
1/4 oz. Cinnamon Schnapps (Preferably Golden Stryke)
1/4 oz. Pisang Ambon
1/4 oz. Vodka

Mix and shoot.

12. Blow Job

1/2 oz. Cherry Liqueur
1/2 oz. Jameson Irish Whiskey
1/4 oz. Cinnamon Schnapps
1/4 oz. Irish Cream
Whipped Cream

Mix ingredients and pour into a shot glass. Top with whipped cream.

13. Hot Pussy

2 drop(s) Tabasco Sauce
1 oz. La Grande Passion Liqueur
1/2 oz. Cinnamon Schnapps

Shake with ice and strain into a highball glass.

Flash Fiction Friday - A Sexy, Slashy Romp Featuring Michael and Simon

2010-12-31T00:34:00.001-05:00

Snowy Daze

“Is it still snowing?”

“See for yourself, Michael.”

He did as Simon suggested, further pulling aside the curtain. His glee was evident as he watched the fat flakes accumulate upon what was already a snowy landscape.

“I never thought I’d see snow again, Simon, especially after leaving earth.”

“That’s why they pay me the big bucks. I figure things out.”

“They don’t pay what you used to earn. How did you manage to afford this trip?”

“Don’t worry your pretty head. It wasn’t that expensive.”

“Flying across the Tantra Star System couldn’t have been cheap.”

“You’re worth it. And the accommodations themselves are reasonable because this isn’t your typical tourist spot.”

“I noticed the few other guests all seem to be businessmen on a working trip.”

“It’s a failing commercial district.”

“I guess you’re not terribly excited to be here, then.”

“Are you kidding? Seeing you enjoy cold weather for the first time since I’ve known you is all I could have wanted.”

“Thank you for not laughing at me for making angels in the snow bank.”

“If you hadn’t done it I would have shown you how.”

“Really? My dignified Mr. X?”

“Hey! I was a kid once, you know.”

“It’s still really something to imagine you on your back in a snow drift.”

“Why don’t you come away from that window and lie down on your back in this bed?”

“Ooh, that sounds like a fine idea.”

“Do it before you scare some caribou or something,” Simon suggested, laughing.

“Do they have something like that here? I’d love to see them.”

“Tomorrow. We’ll go sightseeing on a snow machine tomorrow.”

Letting the curtain drop, Michael said, “For now, you want to lock horns?”

“I don’t think the equivalent of whatever animal live here have horns, but I get your ‘drift’,” Simon joked.

“Ha, ha. Very funny.”

“And I like where you’re going with the implication of locking horns. It’s true that whatever you’re willing to let me do to you is what I feared would frighten the wildlife.”

While Simon spoke, Michael crawled onto the bed and stretched out. His lips curled in a seductive smile, despite the fact they’d been naked since checking into the hotel. He really didn’t know how much more he had left in him to give his lover. Obviously not concerned with this fact, Simon straddled Michael’s waist and began smoothing his large palms over Michael’s flat abdomen.

“Your skin is so soft, Michael. I love the feel of you.” Simon leaned down and breathed his next words into his lover’s half open mouth, Michael anxious for the kiss he expected. “I love you.”

Turning his head and lifting his left hand, Michael admired the diamond band he’d received when they first left earth. They weren’t legally married on any planet, but Simon made his intention clear for whenever they might decide to take that step. Michael was his.

Simon sneezed to the side of the pillow under Michael’s head. “Your hair tickled my nose!”

“Then I guess you should kiss me,” Michael advised, turning back from the sparkling jewelry to face the dark haired man overtop him.

“Tell me you love me, first.”

“I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“Once would have sufficed.”

“Why? Once isn’t enough for sex. You’re already getting hard again, Simon.”

“You have that affect on me.”

Instead of saying more, Michael implored for a kiss by capturing Simon’s lips with his own. He pumped his hips into the larger man’s groin as their tongues slid over one another, teeth clicking lightly.

However unprepared he was for another orgasm, Michael found himself surrendering gladly to Simon’s need. He blinked dazedly up when asked a question.

“Huh?”

“Will you turn over so I can take you from behind?”

“Yes, Simon,” Michael slurred, drunk on the lusty kisses.

He soon found himself cradled gently in the other man’s hands. They supported his belly and his ribcage as Simon pushed inside him.

“Is that good for you?”

“I love it… so much,” Michael managed as Simon nibbled his ear.

“Let me know if it gets to be too much. You’ve put up with a lot this afternoon.”

“Put up with?” Michael turned at the waist, sliding in Simon’s hands, a lazy smile on his face. “I love when you make love to me over and over.”

“I promise,” Simon grunted, suddenly overcome with pleasure, “… to take you sightseeing tomorrow.”

“Mmmm,” Michael agreed, pushing back against his lover’s thrusts. “After we sleep in.”

Thursday Thirteen - Serial Killers

2010-12-30T05:34:00.000-05:00

Against the typical spirit of the season, I'd like to list some of the world's most notorious murderers. It's startling how easily you realize that your quiet neighbor could be harboring bodies in his or her basement.

1. Peter Kudzinowski worked as a miner and railroad worker before confessing to the murder of three children. He faced execution in New Jersey in 1929.

2. Pedro Alonso López reigned terror across South America in the 1970's. Despite being convicted of raping and killing 300 girls, he was considered rehabilitated and his current whereabouts are unknown.

3. Executed in 1989, Ted Bundy initially denied his guilt before confessing to over a hundred acts of murder. He also engaged in rape and necrophilia.

4. David Berkowitz is better known as the Son of Sam. Captured in 1977, he targeted couples in their cars and claimed that he was commanded to kill by a demon who possessed his neighbor's dog.

5. Jeffrey Dahmer engaged in some of the most terrifying torture ending in necrophilia and cannibalism. In 1994 he died in prison at the hands of another inmate. To my surprise, talented actor Jeremy Renner portrayed him in a movie.

6. Elizabeth Báthory was accused of torturing and killing hundreds of girls and young women. She spent four years imprisoned in a castle until her death in 1614.

7. Herman Webster Mudgett, America's first serial killer by the modern definition, is better known under the alias of Dr. Henry Howard Holmes. Nine of twenty-seven confessed murders are confirmed. On May 7, 1896, Holmes was hanged for his crimes.

8. John Wayne Gacy raped and murdered thirty-three teenage boys and young men. When not on his despicable spree, he dressed as Pogo the Clown for charity events.

9. Alfred J. Gaynor, besides killing four other women in the mid 1990's, confessed to leaving a toddler to die of dehydration next to the deceased mother after a drug fueled murder. His nephew, Paul Lashawn Fickling, originally faced conviction for the crime and speculation over guilt continues to this day.

10. Stacey Castor kept her killing in the family, poisoning two husbands. She gained the unsurprising nickname of "Black Widow" but also attempted to murder and frame her own daughter. Her successful methods used anti-freeze in imitation of murderer Lynn Turner. She started a sentence of 52 years to life starting in 2007.

11. Herbert Mullin believed his indiscriminate killings performed a blood sacrifice to save California from earthquake. His deeds against one girl were confused with those of Edmund Kemper, who stalked women in the early 1970's time frame they shared.

12. Albert Fish committed his heinous acts against children and bore such frightening nicknames as the Gray Man, the Werewolf of Wysteria, the Brooklyn Vampire, and The Boogeyman. An anonymous letter to a young victim's family in 1933, four years after the crime, led police to him.

13. Ed Gein didn't have a high body count but his deeds and the seeming connection to the relationship with his mother influenced Hollywood films like "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre", "The Silence of the Lambs", and "Psycho". His quiet demeanor and neighborly ways still strike terror in my heart.

Contrary to my horrific list, I wish for peace upon you and yours. Happy New Year!

Flash Fiction Friday

2010-12-24T09:02:00.000-05:00

Home for the Holidays

Sometimes, you just have to let home come to you.

Flash Fiction

2010-12-18T15:53:00.000-05:00

Wake Up Call

“Michael, roll over. You’re lying on my arm.”

“Mmmm hmmm.”

“A little more. Ah! Thank you. I need to get the feeling back if I’m going to take advantage of you.”

That woke Michael Blanc up. He looked at his older lover. Simon simply smiled, a predatory glint in the dark.

Rhetorically, Michael asked, “Did you say what I think you said?” Then immediately, without waiting for an answer, “What about work in the morning?”

“I don’t need a ton of sleep to get up for work on time tomorrow.”

Michael turned in the arms that now encircled him. Simon shifted on top of Michael and began nuzzling his neck. Their bed felt so warm and cozy that Michael relaxed as opposed to reacting overmuch.

“Would you rather I let you sleep?”

“No. Please don’t stop.”

“Okay. Good.”

A hot palm stroked his side and Simon’s wet lips found his nipple. Michael wound his fingers in the spiky black hair, careful not to pull. The suction at his breast had nerves instantly zapped from that tightening bit of flesh to his balls.

Another man might have stopped what he was doing to say something obvious like, “You like that.” Not Simon. Michael’s beloved Mr. X simply reached beneath their bodies with his free hand. A stroke upon Michael’s perineum brought out little gasps of pleasure. Following his silent lover’s closed lipped approach, Michael didn’t bother to ask him not to stop again. Time for speech had ended.

Michael smiled up at Simon. A finger suddenly delved into his cleft, finding his entrance, and he jerked like a happy puppet on strings. Simon chuckled darkly. He still hadn’t stopped suckling at Michael’s chest except to move to the neglected left side.

Marveling at his former employer, Michael thanked the powers-that-be for the opportunity to live in this loving home. With each thrust of Simon’s fingers, a second entering Michael now, bright eyes rolled back in the strawberry blond head. Michael reached up reflexively and began to tug on the curls trailing down his neck. Simon noticed, skillfully bringing up the hand stilled upon Michael’s ribcage and winding strands from the opposite side of Michael’s head around his own fingers.

Simon threw back his head. Still bearing lubricant from the night before, not to mention other evidence of their amorous activities, Michael was ready for what would come next.

“I want to be inside you now. You’re so tight and slick, Michael.”

For a moment, Michael feared he might come upon those words alone. Well, that and the stimulus upon his tingling scalp. He held on, however, not wishing to disappoint.

A hand upon his thigh encouraged him to lift his legs and open to Simon’s solid erection. The next few moments were intense as his body stretched for the other man’s insistent prod. They began moving as one with only the whoosh of the air ventilation system for accompaniment.

Each stroke brought the men closer to the brink. Michael could tell in Simon by the way that handsome brow furrowed. He reached down and began tugging on his own erection. His nipples remained rock hard despite the lack of stimulation. He preferred to look in Simon’s face, anyway.

“That’s it, come for me.”

The first spasm of Michael’s sphincter brought a cry from each man. Tightening upon that fullness always overwhelmed Michael’s senses more than the thick spurt of ejaculate upon his belly.

Simon tugged more tightly upon Michael’s hair simply by the way he changed his grip to hang onto Michael’s shoulder with that hand, the other on the receptive male’s hip.

“Oh, yes!”

Michael thought he might swallow his tongue for the pleasures of the sensations deep inside him. When his lover’s strong body quieted, Michael stretched within rumpled sheets, still basically trapped by Simon. Simon relaxed now, too.

“Can you go back to sleep without cleaning up?”

“After that wake up call? Yes, Simon. I’ll sleep fine as long as you’ll let me.”

~~~~~

If you like what you've read here, please check out a free entire read of "Memoirs of a Corporate Stress Reliever". It features these characters in an erotic science fiction romp. Simply click on Free Gay Ebooks to download. Thanks for reading!

~~~~~

My Virtual Sit-Down with Ally Blue

2010-12-13T11:25:00.000-05:00

Come read my interview with this talented author!

The Nightlight Blog

~~~

Versatile Blogger Award

2010-12-12T23:56:00.000-05:00

I got the chance to honor a dear friend and she turned the favor right around. If there's a blogger I admire, it's A Catherine Noon. She mentors as a matter of course and has really helped bring me out of my shell.

Please help me in honoring her by checking out her website: A Catherine Noon. Besides finding good stories, you can locate her other blogs featuring her beautiful knitting projects and many other goodies. In fact, here are those links, out of which I share some time slots on two (the rest are all Catherine's!):

Knoontime Knitting

Taurus and Taurus

Writer's Retreat

Nightlight

Noonsense

Skep, the Journal

Eclectica

Evanston Writers Workshop

As for the award, here are the rules:
1. Share 7 things about yourself
2. Pass The Award to 15 bloggers recently discovered (or however many you can manage).
3. Notify the blogger recipients.
4. Link The blogger who gave the award.

As for number two, I've started well with a great list but don't expect A Catherine Noon to do this for every single one of her blogs. I've listed a number on my Darla M Sands blog if you want to go there: Darla M Sands

Regarding number one, let's see...

1. I have three aquariums of fresh water fish, one of them a hospital tank which I hope soon to close down in favor of integrating the poor, lonely convalescent.
2. There are more people I socialize with online whom I've never met than folks I see regularly in real life free time. Sad, yeah?
3. Sometimes, I want to live in a cave but only if it has high speed internet.
4. My main writing muse is someone who's been deceased for over a decade - drummer Kami from Japanese visual kei band Malice Mizer.
5. The only reason I go to the day job is so my partner doesn't worry about finances.
6. Someday, I'd like to quit said job and write full time.
7. Right now, I'm staring at a photograph of the beautiful man known as Kami. It's a guilty pleasure loading a digital frame with pictures of Kamimura.

For more reading pleasure, check these out:

Inez Kelley

Paige Tyler

Kathleen Gabriel

Smutketeers

Left Brain Write

Moonlight Musings

Mary Akers

How Yah Doon

Into the Wardrobe

Thursday Thirteen ~ Twisted Quotes

2010-12-09T04:54:00.000-05:00

1. He flew out of here like a bat out of heaven.

2. I’m so hungry I could eat a Clydesdale.

3. You can pick your friends but you can’t pick your friend’s nose.

Read more »

Thursday Thirteen ~ The Sexiest Car in the World

2010-11-25T06:46:00.000-05:00

1. I think this one is from the early seventies.
It's a favorite color and one of my favorite body styles.

2. A classic.
This reminds me of one a former boyfriend's uncle owned

3. Or was Skip's car more like this? It's been too long, I guess.

4. Love that logo. I wore out a cool shirt sporting it.

5. This looks like the '84 model that transported me on prom night.

6. Yellow is another good color.

7. Race day!

8. Look at that shine. The owner sure loves this baby.

9. I'm not nuts about these back windows but it's definitely a 'Vette.

10. I love this pace car.

11. The weather is certainly perfect for a convertible.

12. This is just cute. What can I say?

13. 1969 Stingray ~ this looks just like one my father restored.

Thursday Thirteen ~ Japanese Rockers on my Listening Rotation

2010-11-11T04:36:00.000-05:00

Cali Gari – named after the silent film “The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari”, these guys have really fun hooks to their music

Chachamaru – technical guitarist for Gackt Job, this beautiful man also put out a solo project of his own called “Air”

Dir en Grey – I can’t get enough of them; their sound is varied and intense.

Gackt – I’ve gone on about him before ~blush~ All About Gackt

Kiyoharu – this former lead singer of Kuroyume came out with a good release called “Poetry”

Kuroyume – Live at Shinjuku Loft is a great energetic show

Malice Mizer – this visual kei band is no longer together but I love their look and sound, especially during the Gackt era

Mucc – these hard rockers actually toured the US in 2008; I wish I’d known them then

Nightmare – good music, good looking, these guys spell the band name in katakana as ナイトメア

Penicillin – some of you might have heard of these guys; they have a stunning eleven albums

Versailles – they have a rich, goth appeal

Vienna – this was an early project of Chachamaru and shares some music with his later solo offering

X Japan – I received a free DVD by way of introduction and still haven’t gotten over how cool their amazing hairstyles were

My Interview with A. B. Gayle

2010-11-08T09:00:00.000-05:00

Come on over to the Nightlight blog for an interesting read:

Nightlight

~~~~~

Thursday Thirteen ~ Japanese Mecha Art by Naochika Morishita

2010-10-28T04:01:00.000-04:00

I'll mostly let these speak for themselves. My favorites are the last two winged robots. I'm grateful to Pink Tentacle for another great collection of images. Be sure to click for an enlargement.

1. Jaburo

2. Mobile Suit-2

3. Dom - I like the lighting and the name.

4. Jaburo-2

5. Daijyushin - robots and dinosaurs? Cool!

6. GM Custom

7. Gundam vs. Elmeth

8. GM Cold District Type

9. Cockpit - great POV if you ask me...

10. RX-93 Nu Gundam

11. Scopedog and Berserga

12. MagiDragon

13. Wing Gundam Zero Custom

Thursday Thirteen - Ways I Uphold Product Loyalty

2010-10-14T03:49:00.000-04:00

1. I’m lazy and hate wasting time searching for a decent product, so I’m likely to remember the name of anything decent.
Read more »

Thursday Thirteen - Animal Lovin'

2010-09-29T22:43:00.000-04:00

I have seen quite a few animal mating rituals, if not the actual act of procreation itself. In retrospect, it’s sort of funny.
Read more »

Banned Book Week

2010-09-28T15:41:00.000-04:00

This week, the American Library Association is promoting the right to read anything we want. No fan of censorship, I like the idea. Various libraries have displays of banned or threatened books. I imagine it's a big thing in some schools.

Have you heard of this peaceful protest? I'd like to know what you think of the idea. Any suggestions on such a book I should read?

Opening a Door or Tripping Over a Threshold

2010-09-21T11:36:00.000-04:00

It's not racy, but I have a commentary on my group's blog today. I'll hope you'll pop over for a read. Let me know what you think.

Writer's Retreat Blog

~~~~~~~

Thursday Thirteen - Trademarked Japanese Characters

2010-09-16T04:40:00.000-04:00

I found these images courtesy of the fun website Pink Tentacle. Though I don't know what companies commissioned them or why, they're just fun. You can find the whole collection of 99 trademarked characters here:

Pink Tentacle

And without further ado, number 1. A ghost with a flying saucer for a hat?

2. There's nothing like a smart, talented guy:

3. Not the helpless Humpty Dumpty, this egg is dressed for success.

4. A dentist with a cherry for a head? I got nothin'.

5. This reminds me of a joke:

What do you do with an elephant with three balls?

You walk him and pitch to the rhino.

6. A message about monkeys using underarm deodorant, apparently.

7. Awww...

8. Anda gain...

9. Toilet paper man to the rescue! I think we could all use one of these whenever the bathroom runs out of the stuff in the middle of taking care of business.

10. Who exactly started the pink = girl and blue = boy? The fact that's all I can say should tell you something.

11. Definitely a message reinforced by cuteness...

12. Potato and carrots make me think of stew. Then again, the potato man reminds me of my chubby cat. I'm so conflicted!

13. Water never looked so adorable, even if it does have a weird leaf attachment.

A Life In The Day Of Wednesday

2010-09-12T12:43:00.000-04:00

Today I finished reading what I thought would be a light-hearted, saucy take on a BDSM trio. It's called "Fun with Dick and Shane: The Life and Times of a Submissive Houseboy". The tale turned out to be a journalistic story with some profound messages.

More than once, I paused to hear music the author mentioned or to investigate a particularly unfamiliar British idiom. In short, I found myself quite engrossed.

In the chapter of the same name as my post, there is a thought provoking treatise on life and death. Essentially, Gillibran Brown says we're all humans going through variations on a theme. His Wednesday was one of mourning at a funeral. Others might be celebrating a new relationship or some success at work.

Here is his brilliant summation:

In short, as individuals, we are all just a life in the day of Wednesday, or whatever day of the week it happens to be.

Thursday Thirteen - Illustrations by Gōjin Ishihara

2010-09-02T10:01:00.000-04:00

The following images are from a book illustrated in 1972. I thank the folks at Pink Tentacle, where you can find more images here:

Macabre Kids Book Art by Gōjin Ishihara

1.

Yamasei, the mountain sprite, just looks like a disagreeable fellow if you ask me

The kappa are river imps
Their behavior goes beyond what I ever would expect from the name

Yūrei are simply ghosts
This depiction is both beautiful and scary

Jorōgumo “whore spider" I own a wonderful rendition by a gifted American artist
Matthew Meyer is currently living in Japan

Kubire-oni is a strangler demon new to me

Kyūbi no kitsune is the nine-tailed fox
I'm not certain of the significance of the woman's face
Nine (kyū) tails is the limit, showing great age and wisdom

Rashōmon no oni is an ogre at the Rashōmon gate
The detachable arm is just creepy

Rokurokubi, the long-necked woman
I've run into her ilk in other renditions of eerie folklore

Onmoraki is a bird demon adapted from Chinese folklore

10.

Nekomata is a cat monster
The neko (cat) being a housept of mine,
I'm rather alarmed that this one went for the jugular

11.

Waira, the mountain-dwelling chimera, gives me another reason to stick to flatlands in Japan

12.

Baku is the dream-eating chimera
This notion scares me more than anything else

13.

Tenjō-sagari dwells in the ceiling, which is pretty obvious here
I feel sorry for the sleeping young man and at the same time,
it's such an eerily sensual scene I can't look away

Save! Save! Save! The GLBT Bookshelf Rummage Sale is Here!

2010-09-01T14:56:00.000-04:00

It's September, and that means Mel Keegan's GLBT Bookshelf is hosting its second rummage sale. I'm honored to have two titles alongside the talented Mr. Keegan, the original "Miya" from March's discount sale table and now the characters are back in "Unmasking Miya". There's a little something for everyone among the offerings, so I hope you'll join me in checking out the bargains!

The GLBT Rummage Sale *

* for mature audiences only

Quote of the Day

2010-08-28T11:14:00.000-04:00

Lately, I've been reading gay fiction in addition to m/m romances. The differences are intriguing. I'm devouring "Best of Gay Asian Erotica". Let me share a beautiful paragraph from Andy Quan's "Positive":

I celebrate masculinity. I saw a photo of your younger self and the face was round, like a boy's: the shapes of sun and moon and celestial bodies. Soft forms. Now the drugs have made your face gaunt, your cheekbones have risen like mornings, and your cheeks have strong lines carved into them. I say this to you: you look like a man. Your profile is an exaggerated model, a cartoon superhero, sleek and virile. And strong like seaside cliffs that weather wind and salt night and day and all of the middle hours. A few of my body parts fit perfectly into those crevices.

Thursday Thirteen ~ Celebrating Men

2010-08-19T04:48:00.000-04:00

Looking at gorgeous men, especially while they're interacting intimately, could easily become an addiction for me. Just Us Boys, which Dilo Keith introduced me to, has enough eye candy to fuel my fantasies for years (Thanks, dear)! Here are thirteen of my favorite poses, after which you'll get progressively naughty examples, hence the m/m and NC-17 tags, so please be warned:
Read more »

The Strongest Shape

2010-08-14T08:36:00.000-04:00

I've been reading the m/m/m romance "The Strongest Shape" by Tessa Cárdenas. She tells the story of two strong and silent types who love one another but rely on the third in their tri-fold love to be their peacemaker and communicator. I have to share perhaps the best line yet.

Read more »

AIR by Chachamaru

2010-08-11T11:52:00.000-04:00

I'm always looking for interesting music. A lot of that lately has been of the Japanese rock pursuasion. I just received this in the mail. The artist, soloist Chachamaru, is a large contributor to the music and stage show of another favorite (Gackt Camui).
Read more »

Interview with Josh Lanyon!

2010-08-09T10:41:00.001-04:00

Come enjoy my quirky email interview with gifted writer Josh Lanyon. I'd love comments to make him feel welcome!

Nightlight

Thursday Thirteen ~ Turning Japanese

2010-08-05T05:45:00.000-04:00

Thirteen benefits to studying the Japanese language:
Read more »

Going With the Flow

2010-08-03T10:48:00.000-04:00

Life has been very interesting lately, and I mean that in all the best ways. The timing, as I journey with other dear travelers along Julia Cameron’s Artist’s Way, can’t be a coincidence. Every day seems to bring a new sense of hope for a bright future. Granted, we never know when our time will be up, so I look forward to making the most of this newfound wellbeing.
Read more »

Greetings

2010-08-02T15:26:00.000-04:00

It's not racy, just downright beautiful. All the same, I thought I'd share this lovely gift from a friend on Sand Castles. Below is the card that surprised me in the mail today. Do you think she knows I have beloeved pet cats and an affinity for all things Asian inspired? Thank you, dear friend!

Flash Fiction Friday - Inspired by a Picture Prompt with my Artist's Retreat Group

2010-07-30T03:37:00.000-04:00

A Very Good Day

“Can I put this thing down yet?”

“Not yet. Let me get a few more shots. Keep still!”
Read more »

Down the Toilet

2010-07-29T11:27:00.000-04:00

I have been thinking about getting an aquarium or perhaps a terrarium for some sort of little critter. Friends tell me the thought has persisted to the point I should act. Idly, I looked on eBay and found something really funny. Considering the toilet humor so prevalent in my home, it's something I'd buy from New Wave Fish if the price weren't a bit out of my league.

If you want more random fun, check out my Thursday Thirteen list on Darla M. Sands:

Items Improved by Plastic

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nightlight

2010-07-25T15:08:00.001-04:00

Some fellow talents have invited me on a new endeavor featuring steamy adult material. Nightlight already offers two great story premiers! Come check them out!

Coffee and the Collar, Chapter 1 by Nicole Gordon

Trust and Desire, Chapter 1 by Sunshine

We'll leave the nightlight on for you!

Thursday Thirteen ~ Songs that start with D

2010-07-22T03:21:00.000-04:00

Listening to music the other day, I found myself happily cruising through albums starting with the letter "D". Here are thirteen titles I own, listed in the alphabetical order in which they appear on my iPod and beginning with the first of that day's playlist:Read more »

Umi no hi

2010-07-16T10:05:00.000-04:00

Today I learned that this third Monday of July is a modern holiday in Japan known as Marine Day. I believe the Kanji, 海の日, translates as Umi no hi, with the first character umi designating our earth's seas.

Established a mere fifteen years ago, the holiday is not honored with any sort of traditional ceremony. There are no parades, kites, or requisite temple visits. Rather, many flock to the beaches, and the main intent is to make citizens pause to wish for economic prosperity upon the island nation. Particularly poignant this summer, it is also intended that people give thanks for the blessings of the oceans, so vital to us all.

Let’s join with the Japanese in giving thanks and hope that the Gulf of Mexico oil spill crisis is truly at a turning point. While this remains a disastrous situation, I have faith that scientific investigation over the weekend will show no further leakage.

So, join me in saying, "Happy Marine Day!"

Quote of the Day

2010-07-12T16:24:00.000-04:00

Having run into an esoteric Italian quote a while back, I have wondered ever since what it means. The saying goes, “The bed is the poor man’s opera.”

I dug through internet search engines in hopes of finding the meaning. Every English speaker I encountered immediately assumed it to reference sexual intercourse. Honestly, I initially thought along those same lines. It just didn't make sense to me, however. Is it supposed to be about performing? Sex is the great equalizer of the wealthy and the impoverished.

Several sources indicate a very different meaning, which I am more inclined to believe. Allegedly, the phrase was coined to illustrate how much a destitute person appreciates a proper place to sleep.

The saying came into being when only the prosperous could afford to attend opera, a prestigious social event of the day. Hence, no proper gentleman or lady would wish to miss a performance even as their indigent counterpart doesn't want to sleep in the alley.

I think this just goes to show that different eras and experiences provide very different conceptions. Also, I can see how much we have our minds on sex. That bodes well for me, since it's what I love to write.

Have you ever heard this quote? If so, I'd be curious to find out where, and how you took the meaning.

In my case, Marilyn Manson mentioned the phrase in a quirky interview. Does he give any other kind, you ask? Why yes, he does. On the film "Resident Evil", he gives a very intelligent commentary on the task of scoring the soundtrack.

So ends today's lesson on Italian proverbs and American shock rockers. I hope you enjoyed it!

Delighting in Dilo

2010-07-10T15:50:00.000-04:00

Yet another discussion with my friend led to a quote that I just have to share. I shall paraphrase her glib remark (we must protect the guilty, after all). It came about when I mentioned not having heard from someone for weeks, despite assurance to the contrary. Dilo made the following observation.

Words for time intervals have a different meaning for some people.

Thursday Thirteen ~ Nouns that Double as Verbs

2010-07-08T03:11:00.000-04:00

My gifted writer friend has given me a wonderful list to share this week. She came up with the clever idea of listing words that double as both nouns and verbs (e.g., You hammer with a hammer) and have a similar context in either form.

As she notes in her own words, please note the warning that several are used in BDSM. The list does not include verbs that do not usually retain their interpersonal meaning in their common noun form, e.g. screw.

I hope you're as impressed as I was:

1. Brush
2. Cane
3. Chain
4. Clamp
5. Collar
6. Cuff
7. Dress
8. Fist
9. Oil
10. Paddle
11. Rope
12. Wax
13. Whip

Quote of the Day

2010-07-06T11:38:00.000-04:00

My talented friend and I get into the most interesting email conversations. The other day we were sharing our views on anal fisting. Yes, we talk a lot about sexual practices, especially of the BDSM flavor. It's only natural, considering we both write erotica focusing upon consensual power exchange. I treasure Dilo as a generous, knowledgeable, and witty source of information on intimate play.

To the matter at hand, though (pun definitely intended), we have very different opinions. Personally, the idea of an arm inside me anywhere simply does not appeal. I'd have to be dying to welcome it. She is much less averse to the idea. However, she did offer a very valid reason for not welcoming this particular practice. It's so understandable from the viewpoint of a fellow writer, the humor so deliciously dry, that I simply had to share.

I think it would take me way too long to work up to that and the time could be spent writing.

Quote of the Day

2010-07-05T09:19:00.000-04:00

Yesterday I stumbled upon a startling image while innocently researching temple statuary in Japan. I'm grateful to the Virtual Tourist website for providing this image of the giant phallus in Tagata Shrine:

Of course, I had to share with my partner, who promptly said:

How would you like to be the guy whose job it is to polish that every day?

I refuse to be like Fluffy but I just loved the picture...

2010-07-02T10:53:00.000-04:00

Quote of the Day

2010-07-01T16:45:00.000-04:00

A dear friend introduced me to an interesting anthology of m/m reads. It's called "Kosher Meat", edited by Lawrence Schimel. The stories have been very good so far, and I look forward to reading more. A quote in the introduction struck me as so incredibly poignant, in the meantime, that I just had to share.

From gay Jewish playwright Tony Kushner's essay, "Fick Oder Kaputt!", Mr. Schimel quotes:

It is impossible to talk or write about sex without revealing too much of yourself. Whereas conversely it is possible I think to have sex and reveal nothing of yourself whatsoever.

Thanks for introducing me to this book, Dilo!

The Zen of Gardening

2010-07-01T00:01:00.000-04:00

On my tamer blog, I have posted a Thursday Thirteen featuring my garden. I hope you drop in and enjoy...

Darla M. Sands

Thursday Thirteen ~ All About Gackt

2010-06-24T04:55:00.000-04:00

Just when I began to think I’m done going to the cinema, I stumbled upon something unique. “Bunraku” is, get this, a hybrid animation/live action, film noir/martial arts production boasting an international cast. It stars such folks as Demi Moore, Josh Hartnett, and a personal favorite of mine, Japanese musican Gackt Camui. In honor of my anticipation, I’ve decided to list some of the many reasons I adore this gifted artist.

1. He reputedly speaks five languages. That means he’s multi-talented, sexy, and smart.

2. Since the loss of good friend Kami (a fellow musician with Malice Mizer) in 1999, Gackt allegedly continues to visit the late drummer’s mother. It could be a false rumor. Still, I like to imagine him both sentimental and respectful.

3. Cost notwithstanding, the man demands a high degree of quality out of every project he touches. Videos and live performance DVDs are a sensual treat.

4. Speaking of treats, “Vanilla” is a fabulous single. An exhilarating horn section makes this a personal favorite and the racy, whimsical lyrics don’t hurt. I always perk up when it comes on my playlist.

5. His vocals are not only easy on the ears but the words are consistently clear. As a result, he’s actually reinforcing my language lessons!

6. Acting genuinely playful in interviews and on television programs, Gackt’s good humor is substantiated by one report that he ran an invitation-only restaurant for a time. The article said he prepared family recipes for his guests at a string of secret locations. Whatever did it take to get invited?

7. Gackt looks gorgeous in every incarnation. Shallow, I know, but I’ve never seen anyone pull off such a variety of costumes and personas: goth, vampire, gangster, blond, brunette, Samurai, cyborg soldier. It’s all good.

8. Merveilles – I can’t get enough of listening to the album and watching Malice Mizer’s live, epic performance.

9. During a segment of Merveilles, Gackt wears a heavy-looking brocade costume complete with feather-collared cape and outrageously high-heeled, platform boots. During a soaring piano piece he gives a flawless performance in that outfit while sitting with his legs crossed. It’s priceless footage.

10. Some sources claim he’s bisexual and, while it’s none of my business, this wicked imagination does run wild. Some photographs I’ve seen only perpetuate the claim.

11. He never does anything halfway. Even friendly martial arts demonstrations I’ve seen are amazing. Gackt once said that everyone on his staff is trained for sparring and I believe it.

12. Gackt penned a particularly haunting single, “December Love Song”, after being moved by the terrorist attacks on September 11th, 2001. The mournful Japanese lyrics manage to sound more beautiful than sad to me, but I have several versions. Hearing the devastating lyrics sung in English for the first time, I nearly cried.

13. I’ll leave you with the image of this stunningly packaged CD.

Japanese title: 12月の Love Song

Copyright issues left me uncomfortable downloading music or images of the artist, for which I’m sorry. However, the barest search will provide you with a plethora of samples if my list piques your interest.

Thursday Thirteen ~ A Spoiled Existence

2010-06-17T05:18:00.000-04:00

I don’t count my blessings nearly as much as I should. This list is sort of tongue-in-cheek but also heartfelt.

Thirteen blessings of my spoiled existence:

1. Disposable Tissues – for both noses and unmentionables

2. Indoor Plumbing & Clean Water – very much taken for granted

3. Lip Balm & Skin Lotions – my first and greatest addiction outside of writing

4. An Insect & Pest-Free Home – I’m especially aware of this after actually getting hooked on a so-called reality TV program, “Billy the Exterminator” (even with this I skip the canned, soap opera drama)

5. Top of the Food Chain – I’m mostly there where we live, and this hearkens again to the crazy dangers Billy Bretherton faces in Louisiana

6. Microwave Ovens – how did I survive my early bachelorette-hood without one?

7. Ready Health Care – not to spark a political storm, never my intent, I do feel blessed for this

8. Central Air Conditioning – can’t imagine a summer without it

9. Reliable Electricity – sorely missed when a hurricane took down the power grid for a week

10. Books – come on, you knew I had to go there...

11. and stay there... Paper & Pens

12. Computers, Laptops, & Thumb Drives – excuses not to write have never been so difficult to invent

13. Imagination – the luxury to dream and put my stories into words instead of worrying over where my next meal is coming from

Pink Tentacle

2010-06-15T14:39:00.000-04:00

Learning Japanese and fascinated by the culture, I often get a kick out of a website called "Pink Tentacle". Today I found something both fun and educational, as it helped me practice reading katakana.

If you're a fan of Godzilla-like creatures, check out these vintage postcards from the 1970's!

Pachimon Take Over the World!

Flash Fiction Friday

2010-06-11T09:15:00.001-04:00

I posted a story on my tamer blog. And while it's not smut, I hope you'll pop over and enjoy the short read...

Distant Drumming

Happy Friday!

Thursday Thirteen

2010-06-10T08:17:00.001-04:00

Today I listed some truly wacky and some tasty sounding Japanese ice cream flavors...

Darla M. Sands

2010-06-09T09:05:00.001-04:00

Today's the day I try to say something worthwhile and pertinent to writing. I hope you check it out and enjoy. Happy Wednesday!

The Writer's Retreat

Wild West

2010-06-08T16:59:00.001-04:00

However much I complain about my job, the boss is cool. He rides a beautiful Harley and has a very open mind. My father sent me a funny email and I'm forwarding my supervisor this picture with the caption that he needs one:

Thirteen reasons I should have stayed home from work today:

2010-06-03T09:43:00.000-04:00

1. It’s raining, and my muse thrives on rainy weather

2. Imagining a beautiful exchange between two fictional characters, I would have preferred to keep daydreaming in bed until the urge to write the scene forced me to get up

3. I’m actually in a good mood and should let my work-from-home partner enjoy this side for a change

4. My Thursday 13 list wasn’t already written as I’d wrongfully thought (a blog post is in the pipe for another topic– duh) and I could concentrate better away from here

5. The day job isn’t any fun

6. The one and only street out of my neighborhood was blocked by a fire truck due to a fallen tree (unfortunately, the fireman waved me on before I came to my senses and went home)

7. A constant stream of emails distract my attention from the fiction I’d rather be writing

8. Painting on my home’s interior is done and tons of artwork needs re-hung

9. Three cats would rather have me there

10. The floor needs vacuumed and I won’t want to do it by day’s end

11. My daily Japanese lesson could be done with a cat on the lap instead of sitting in my car or the company break room

12. It’s noisy here and I like things quiet (music in my ear keeps me somewhat sane)

13. To bastardize a quote my dad taught me about fishing, “A slow day of writing beats a good day at the office”

I hope that, wherever you are, you have a good Thursday!

Writer's Retreat Blog Post

2010-06-01T09:08:00.000-04:00

Today I expounded upon the type of gaff that I sometimes feel alone in being able to achieve. Click for a laugh and I hope you'll share experiences of your own...

Writer's Retreat Blog

Thursday Thirteen

2010-05-20T08:53:00.000-04:00

I have a whimsical list of music on my PG-13 blog today...

Darla M. Sands

I'm proud to promote a fellow Romance Diva!

2010-05-19T14:43:00.000-04:00

Eden Bradley's story in the Smutketeers' Wasteland anthology, Book Three: THE BREEDER, is out now! Buy it now at MBAM or on Amazon!

In 2012, the world came to a grinding halt as radiation hit from a massive solar storm. Crops died, animals perished, cities fell and humans became little more than beasts themselves. Under the threat of starvation, civility was reduced to mere memory. Only the strongest men survived, and physically weaker women and children wasted to nothingness.

More than a century later, humanity struggles in the desert Wasteland that was left. The solar radiation rendered most women infertile, and the population dwindles more with each year that passes. Scattered up and down coasts, isolated cities eke out an existence from fishing, foraging and hunting for what little game remains. Outside the city walls, men face the threat of pirates and raiders.

Few women remain, divided into four classes—Wanderers, Whores, Breeders and Priestesses. They are as reviled as they are worshiped, a commodity any man must pay to touch.

There is only one rule in the Wasteland—survive.

Book One: THE WANDERER — Crystal Jordan, May 4, 2010
Book Two: THE WHORE — Lilli Feisty, May 11, 2010
Book Three: THE BREEDER — Eden Bradley, May 18, 2010
Book Four: THE PRIESTESS — R.G. Alexander, May 25, 2010

THE BREEDER, Book Three in the Wasteland Series

Destined to serve the desires of an entire city, all she wants is one man. Or maybe two…

Wasteland, Book 3

Born to the Temple, Nitara knows the Great Goddess’s plan for her: to bring life into what is left of an arid and wasted Earth. Since puberty she has been trained to arouse and titillate, to ensure the continuation of the human race.
As is the custom, the man captured for her is strong of blood, though considered little more than a wild animal. Yet when she looks into his eyes, she sees no primitive creature, but the man whose face and hands haunt her sensual dreams.
For Akaash, a hunter and warrior, it’s his shame that he will be sacrificed to a goddess he doesn’t believe in, for a people who are not his own, leaving behind his Wanderer clan—and his bonded lover, Dhatri. Locked in the bowels of the Temple, he has a month to ponder his fate, all while falling helplessly under the spell of the virgin temptress who will soon take his life.
With each tortuously erotic encounter, however, Akaash realizes that Nitara is as much a prisoner as he. If he can just get a message out to Dhatri, there may be a slim chance both of them can escape…

* * *
You can find the entire Wasteland series at Samhain, and you can buy THE BREEDER there, or on Amazon! And visit the Smutketeers blog for excerpts, contests and more!

Happy Tuesday!

2010-05-18T08:29:00.000-04:00

Today is mine for posting on my group's blog. Come on over for a bit of rambling and a book review...

Neuroses in Little Japan

One Line Wonders

2010-05-16T12:23:00.000-04:00

These pithy quotes might come from a book, a movie, or even one of my story tidbits that I'm daring enough to humbly share. Today's is from a great piece of sci fi fiction:

"..Pete and Leo never could agree about nothing, not even how to die."
- Mel Keegan's "Narc 3: Scorpio"

The NARC series (Narcotics and Riot Control) is comprised of compelling futuristic stories featuring a great gay couple of iconic status. Stone and Kevin Jarrat have a relationship that is to die for, and jobs that might take that next turn for them. I highly recommend the series.

I'm published!

2010-05-14T09:57:00.001-04:00

Granted, my e-book is freely available for downloads, but it was given away prior and therefore, I feel, unethical for me to attempt selling. And it's for a good cause, to promote traffic on Mel Keegan's wiki site, The GLBT Bookshelf! The man kindly put together my humble story with a beautiful cover by Jade. If you're interested in great, gay oriented fiction, come on over for some great titles! Please stop by and support our various artists:

Free Gay Reads

Below you'll find an excerpt. First, I need to rectify an error. I neglected to credit any of the wonderful folks who aid and inspire my writing. Special thanks to Dilo Keith, A. Catherine Noon, Nikki Memmott, Evilynne, and Myladymystere! You've all improved my writing (any and all shortcomings are mine alone). For anyone not listed, please forgive my need for brevity!

Now, meet Michael Blanc, Corporate Stress Reliever by trade and optimist by choice. He knows all too well that life can throw rotten fruit in your face. In 2186, Michael makes the most of just desserts. Employed as confidante and lover to those that make up the whipped cream topping on that big apple pie, New York, New York, Michael has survived the whipping and now nibbles a nice, big slice of the pie.

Excerpt from "Memoirs of a Corporate Stress Reliever":

“Dance.”

I can do that. At a convenient drum beat I throw back my shoulders. Stiffened arms let the bolero glide off. Curled fingers catch the inner seam of the left lapel, saving that article from the floor.

So, he wants me to keep the hat, normally the first thing tossed. Most guys go gaga over my hair. Mr. X likes hats. I like Mr. X. Ergo, the cover stays on my head.

Stepping back from his spot on the mattress gives me the necessary room. Spinning a three-quarter turn to my right, I drape the jacket over my far shoulder and swivel my head down. The only part of unclothed skin visible to him is my chin and lips, which I lick. I hear his moan below the music.

I turn to fling the jacket onto a corner chair and, facing the far wall, fold in half with one hand handing my cap in place to blow him a kiss from between my calves. I straighten, rolling my spine in a wave that only ends when I stare at the ceiling. I shiver plainly for his witness and drop my gaze straight to the wall once more.

Whirling 180 degrees, I stop on a dime and try not to gawk. There’s a line of naked skin showing almost to his groin, the expensive robe gapped. Swallowing hard, I grind my hips against empty air, leather-clad fingers unbuttoning my shirt. Lower body never still, I kick off my shoes and dance on bare feet.

I’m breathing heavy enough to pant and it’s not from exertion, my body too conditioned. What takes my wind is the memory of things he’s done with this body – things he’ll soon repeat.

“Stop.”

I’ve pulled my shirttail out and undone the first button of my fly. I stop, chest and stomach heaving, though there is no perspiration on my skin. The auto-climate directs a cooling flow of air upon me.

“Room,” he addresses the monitor AI. “Auto-air off. Authorization code 59784.”

The breeze ended, moisture instantaneously beads my breast. Smirking, he tells me to begin again.

“I want to lick the sweat off that beautiful body. Keep your shirt. Get rid of the pants.”

Once they’re on the rug out of my way, I reach inside my shirt. He knows I’m pinching the nipple but the miniscule teat is so hard that it can’t engorge beyond what the first touch of leather finds. I raise my face and close my eyes, other hand tugging the curls down my neck.

I’m goading him into touching me himself. I give him bedroom eyes and wet my upper lip. He’s so on edge I can virtually feel those hands and mouth on me in anticipation.

Mr. X rises quickly, his robe billowing behind him. He’s upon me, somehow losing that wrap between the bed and where I stand. The fabric collapses on the floor to be forgotten. Gripping my waist is a gentle but firm hand. I am irrefutably his.

He yanks the shirt off one shoulder and slicks his palm across my drenched pectorals. I watch breathlessly. A wide, soft mouth finds one rosy nub. I don’t need cosmetics for color there. It’s plain, tingling flesh he suckles.

His touch finds my silk briefs. The loose outer layer feels like liquid over the skin-tight lining of stretchable cotton. He comments on it, squeezing my ass.

“Are these new? Nice.”

I’m glad he doesn’t expect an answer. He laughs softly, a pure and happy sound over his impact upon my faculties. The front panel of the custom underwear is no longer slack, my erection straining to get out. His hands haven’t even brushed over my loins. It’s obvious I could not withstand much.

“It’s been too long. Let’s make up for lost time.”

I hope this whets your appetite. A less steamy snippet is up on my Darla M. Sands blog. Happy reading!

Thursday Thirteen ~ The Joys of Writing

2010-05-13T04:38:00.000-04:00

Thirteen Reasons I Write

1. Escapism – better than movies and even books, internal fantasies can be visited virtually anywhere and anytime; I carry pen and paper whenever possible

2. Characters –protagonists drive my plots, taking on a life of his or her own in the process, and are often my company of choice

3. World Building – while lately discovering the joy of alien peoples and places, I find that generating any sort of alternate reality is immensely rewarding

4. Research – obviously educational, typically entertaining, this frequently plants the seed for new ideas as an added side benefit

5. Sex – I wrote erotica in my journals before ever having heard the term; later, rediscovering vivid tell of youthful exploits inspired my creative writing and this is still my favorite subject

6. Liaisons – it's imperative to add how daydreaming sexual encounters never gets old and those I will never experience (for whatever reason) provide especially compelling challenges

7. Travel – a journey into prose shows me wondrous sights without the stress and expense of an actual vacation

8. Memories – it’s amazing what experiences I recall, savoring some before truth is spun to weave fact into fiction

9. Kodak Moments – reading what I’ve composed about an incident, real or pretend, stimulates a more intense response than the majority of photographs (inspirational images are like the icing on the cake)

10. Limitless – sorry to sound cliché, but my unbound consciousness soars during the process of storytelling

11. Music – unlike cinema and television, my second favorite activity happens to be extremely compatible with this great passion, which brings to mind the next item

12. Passion – I can explore the most desirous or debased emotions known to humankind, all confined within my relatively harmless psyche

13. Sanity – it’s cheaper than therapy and a heck of a lot more fun

Friday Funny

2010-05-07T09:50:00.000-04:00

In place of a ficlet piece, I decided to share a laugh. Be warned that I'm notorious for being way behind the curve on jokes. Hence, this might be really old and I just don't have a clue. Since I won't see you rolling your eyes if this joke is actually older than the internet, here goes...

A husband and wife were watching a television program about psychology. As an aside, he mentioned that he didn't believe in so-called "mixed emotions". She offered to prove the existence and he agreed.

"I can tell you something that will make you both the happiest and the saddest you've ever felt in your life."

"All right," he agreed, "give it a shot."

"You have a bigger penis than every single one of your friends."

Flash Fiction Friday ~ Touch the Sky

2010-04-30T12:56:00.000-04:00

Touch the Sky

The sunlight glittered – diamonds on the water. I reached behind blindly and Skyler took my hand. The boat bobbed in the playful waves and I was having a wonderful time. My fishing line disappeared in the glare. Skyler’s warm hand left mine and I sensed him turning toward the voice of our hired skipper.

“Here’s your rod, Skyler, all ready to catch some fish. I know those wahoo are out there.”

Rod.

I snorted gleefully at the double entendre as the man handed my young lover the baited rig. Sky had earlier whispered to me that he wouldn’t mind a nibble from Captain Steve, fish be damned. Usually so masculine, Skyler hammed up a homosexual queen act to the other male’s vast discomfiture.

“I don’t know how you can handle touching those nasty fish bits, Steven,” Skyler lisped. “Now, put it on a rice patty and give me a pair of chopsticks – then I’ll pop it in my mouth in a heartbeat. I’d swallow one of your morsels whole without even chewing.”

Casting with his pinkies stuck absurdly out in mid air, he cracked me up. I swallowed a snort. Captain Steve cleared his throat and looked to me, carefully reseating his cap on a mostly bald head. I recalled Sky’s comical remark of what that inferred about the man’s testosterone level and nearly snorted again.

“So, Karen, where are you and Skyler from? Your accent sounds Midwest.”

“Oh, you don’t want to know those boring, old facts! Honestly, Stevie,” Sky scolded, batting pretty eyes over his shoulder, “wouldn’t you rather know where I’m willing to go?”

That brought me to flat-out guffaw. I felt the need to say something, though, before the fellow abandoned ship and swam for the distant shore.

“Don’t let him get to you, Steve. Skyler won’t bite.”

“I will if you ask, Stevie,” Skyler corrected lasciviously.

“Fish! I got a fish!”

I began cranking the handle furiously, fighting for every yard of dripping nylon. Our haul quickly met the local limit, the professional fisherman every bit as good as advertised. He appeared grateful when Sky and I agreed to return to shore early rather than turn the excursion into a sightseeing trip. Until my dying day, I’ll believe Captain Steve Felder remained convinced that Skyler Robinson and I, the considerably older Karen Foster, were pals instead of lovers.

And like my adventurous, bisexual stud, I would have enjoyed initiating a graphic demonstration including the handsome native. Unfortunately, Steve acted as straight as an arrow, so uncomfortable with Skyler’s initial flirtation that the younger man ramped up his act upon Steve out of sheer perversion.

So far, I’d only dreamed of sharing Sky with another man. During this vacation, I’d planned to rectify that. We both had, until his sometime fuck buddy backed out on coming along. I couldn’t blame Ron, who received a job offer that kept him home. Ron promised that his intention to be in a Skyler/Karen sandwich would still stand when we returned, so I simply enjoyed sharing the resort atmosphere with Skyler.

We talked about what to do with the rest of our week during the long drive back to our hotel and stood now on the pristine sand behind the place, soaking up the last of the autumn sun. Our wahoo steaks were in the freezer except for the fish we planned to fry for dinner. My eyes were glued to the smooth, golden skin of Sky’s neck, my arms around his slender middle. One long arm lifted, a pointed finger directing my gaze up and out.

“Look, Karen. Whales!”

On this most Eastern edge of the United States, the sun set earlier than in our town. The nearness of sunset made clouds over the ocean merge with the water on the horizon. Mist from the animals’ blow holes appeared magical.

“It looks like they’re touching the sky.”

“Not as nicely as you are.”

Snickering at his joke, I sighed over the hot silk of his back under my kiss. He took my hand and pushed it down to the waistband of his swimming trunks.

“Are you ready to go in?”

“I’m ready for you to, Karen.”

I knew what Skyler meant. He let me do things to his body that I never conceived before meeting him. My ex-husband would be appalled. Bearing my teeth, I nipped the sensitive slope of his shoulder.

Thrilled, I felt him go a little wobbly. My bite left off and I rubbed the chill skin of his arms.

“You’re cold!”

“A little.”

Skyler’s flesh always felt warm to the touch. Alarm edged out my persistent arousal.

“Do you feel okay?”

“Yeah. Sure. Well, I’m hungry. That’s probably why I’m freezing.”

Struggling with a lifelong weight problem, I lost several pounds mainly by replacing my appetite for junk food with one for sex. I tended to forget that a growing young man needed to eat much more than a middle-aged woman.

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“It just didn’t occur to me. I had a great time today, Karen.”

“Me, too. Let’s get you fed.”

“Okay.”

He grinned, his smile bright in the gloaming. I resolved to make him a giant salad with boiled eggs and sardines, an odd quirk he picked up as a kid. We’d boiled eggs for breakfast and I’d set one back. Sky didn’t know that I also brought a few tins of fish from home. While he showered, I cut vegetables and tossed them with chunks of egg and pieces of sardine. Fish for both courses? Who cared? He was a growing boy who needed his protein.

Wearing just the towel, Sky earned an immediate growl of approval. A more perfect human being could only have been carved out of marble. After the meal, he definitely needed to be naked.

“Sit. Eat.”

“My favorite!”

“I even remembered your garlic dressing,” I bragged, pulling an unopened bottle from among the few groceries in the cabinet.

I insisted he dig in while the fish fried. The nuggets quickly turning crunchy and dark, I drained excess oil onto paper towels. Placing the heaping plate in the middle of the table, I sat to sample his dressing with my simple lettuce and tomato salad.

“You better be careful, Karen, or I’m going to get used to this,” he warned.

I merely grinned, more than a little nervous about the implication. Getting to know Skyler instigated much-needed change in my life, one afternoon in his arms lending me the courage to call an end to a bad marriage. Spending time with him continued to give me immense joy and he professed to feeling the same. Nonetheless, Skyler Robinson, barely in his twenties, belonged with someone his own age. Even teasing about any permanence gave me butterflies.

What would I do when the time came to let him go? Taking this trip together suddenly struck me as terribly wrong. Having Ron along gave the vacation the dynamics of three buddies on a college break or something, another fantasy for someone who never attended university. So far, the trip smacked of a honeymoon much of the time.

“Karen, why so glum? You’re not worried about eating the wahoo just because it’s fried. Are you? I wish you wouldn’t obsess about your figure.”

“Actually, your figure is my obsession,” I retorted.

The young man pounded down hot fish and warmed hushpuppies leftover from dinner the night before. All the while, he shot furtive glances across the table. My levity long since fallen flat, I betrayed the seriousness of my concern by picking at my food. At least Sky had not professed loving me, I reminded myself.

“You know, Ron didn’t really get a job.”

“What?! Why would he lie? Oh,” I groaned, “he doesn’t really want to be with me. I feel like an idiot.”

“No! You’ve got it all wrong. He does! And the idea of him and you together in my bed is still a fantasy of mine. Honest!”

“Then why?”

“Because this is our first vacation, Karen. I wanted this one to be special – just the two of us.”

“First” vacation, implying that there would be others to come. My well-meaning intention remained to bow out of his life before I fell completely in love with him. As time went on, that inevitable event loomed more closely than I cared to admit.

“Hey, I don’t mean to freak you out. I’m not proposing marriage or anything. Okay? I’m not even sure I ever want that, so just relax and let me make love to you.”

“Here?”

“Now.”

“Yes.”

He leaned over the corner of the table and kissed me. Horseradish from the cocktail sauce he liked made his supple tongue taste tingly. I gasped when Skyler’s hand spread my knees and slid up my thigh. Without warning, he manhandled my chair back and around to face him. Sky dropped to his knees between my legs. The towel fell to the floor, his fingers hooked my hips, and his cock bounced against the inside of my knee as he pulled my butt to the edge of the dinette chair.

“Pull your swimsuit out of the way. I’m going to fuck you. Let me in.”

I obeyed, holding the Lycra with my left hand and spreading slick outer lips open with the other. Just as he already knew, being around him served as perpetual foreplay, my sex wet from the inside out. A twinge from a vigorous bout the night before gave way to the pleasure of being filled. With his erection pumping into me, I moved my right hand to feel the muscles of his back working.

Moaning incoherently, I bit back the damnable three words ringing in my head.

I love you.

~the end~

Confucius say...

2010-04-29T14:14:00.000-04:00

At a local restaurant serving both Chinese and Japanese cuisine, I received a fortune cookie after my sushi lunch the other day. Thanks to a friend of mine, I learned to add the words “in bed” after the inscription. With that in mind, read what tidbit I found in my recent dessert:

A man’s best possession is a sympathetic wife.

Exciting News

2010-04-28T11:26:00.000-04:00

If you’ve made it to Sand Castles, I want to thank you for reading. On my family friendly companion blog I have shared some great news!

Darla M. Sands

I hope you’re having a blessed day!

Flash Fiction Friday ~ Blue Sky

2010-04-23T22:48:00.000-04:00

Blue Sky

“Watcha drinkin’?”

I knew it would be tea, Skyler’s drink of choice, and simply prompted inane chatter to get him talking. His spirits seemed somehow down the last few times we met. Down in spirit only, Sky maintained a youthful vigor that never failed to rouse him for energetic bouts of sex.

“Chai.” That one word carried zero inflection – bad sign.

“Let me guess, you added plenty of milk and sugar so it tastes just like that drink at India Palace.”

“Yeah.” Glum, he sounded damn near pouty. “That place we went to once.”

“That’s all? Really? We should go again.”

Silence.

“Look, you know I enjoy going out with you, Sky. Perhaps we don’t do that enough.”

“I understand. We can’t exactly screw in public.”

Ouch.

“Look, I’m not very good at talking about feelings,” I started apologetically.

“No kidding, Karen,” Skyler interjected.

Okay, now I was a little mad. While not a pleasant state of mind, this didn’t necessarily bode ill. Twenty years ago, I would have started a disproportionately heated argument, maybe thrown something breakable at the wall, and stormed out until my desire lured me to attempt reconciliation.

Since my stormy youth, I’d learned to control my temper. Surviving an ugly divorce only deepened the well of calm and this edge of anger actually sharpened my awareness. I decided to take of advantage of the fact and engage him in obviously necessary conversation. Dismissing his insult as a judiciously earned cheap shot, I tightened the belt of the borrowed bathrobe, sat in the chair opposite his sofa, and leaned forward in study of him, elbows on knees.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he mumbled, downright petulant, “except you always come to my place.”

Ah.

He moved out of his parents’ house a few months prior, finding a near-ghostly roommate who conveniently worked the exact opposite of Skyler’s grocery store shift. They split the cost of this cramped apartment located over a sandwich shop. Sky’s tiny, shabby bedroom always smelled of freshly baked bread. Amusingly, his roommate traded from their initially decided rooms because he hadn’t been able to tolerate the yeasty fragrance.

While I rented a much nicer place immediately upon my marital separation, this smaller space carried a decidedly youthful flavor. Cast-off furniture and milk crate bookcases fostered my fantasy of being twenty-something rather than middle-aged. Out of embarrassment, I failed to impart this fact to Skyler.

“You think I’m hiding something by not inviting you over, Skyler? We can go there right now. Just let me find my underwear,” I wisecracked, attempting levity.

Not returning the desired smile, he retorted, “That’s not it, really. I mean, sort of, but let me ask you a question. Karen, did you even bring your guitar?”

“It’s in the car,” I answered, perplexed and slightly ashamed by the original, adulterous lie his query evoked.

This affair commenced before my divorce, guitar lessons serving as my excuse to see Skyler. I sometimes laughed out loud at my absurd logic. Every check written for my “music teacher” coincided with a damning motel credit card charge since he still lived in his childhood family home. However, the only one needing mollified turned out to be me, my ex drunkenly confessing to multiple infidelities before our drama concluded.

Watching Sky set his mug on a drink coaster featuring a popular anime character nearly made me snort. His effort protected a scratched and battered end table that looked older than I felt on my worst days. Skyler’s serious brow beneath gel-spiked, black hair leeched my amusement.

“Why even bother? And why keep paying me for these non-existent lessons?”

I didn’t know how to answer that. Was it out of habit? While sort of true, the excuse made no sense. A curious image came into focus unexpectedly – Skyler standing on a street corner until a trolling car stopped and a randy driver opened the door. How could I have been so stupid? The painful truth crashing down, I responded with nervous inquiry.

“Do I make you feel like a whore, Sky?”

“Maybe a little, Karen,” he sniffed. “Yeah.”

Sitting up at his confirmation, Skyler’s deep brown eyes darted everywhere but my face. They appeared suspiciously glassy. I teared up in miserable sympathy. Sky alone succeeded in making me cry in all the long years since my grandmama’s death. For all his tough, hard rocker exterior, Skyler bore emotions closer to the surface than anyone I’d ever met.

Apparently in concession to the losing battle, he met my gaze and allowed a tear to slide down his cheek, making no attempt to blot the spill. A determined set to his features squared an already masculine jaw. Not for the first time, I distractingly imagined this admitted bisexual performing amorous acts upon one of his male companions.

“You don’t seem interested enough to ask, Karen, but I don’t need your money. I’m doing just fine between my serious students, working at the deli, and WR’s gigs.”

WR, or Weeping Razor, found increasing success at a heavy metal club and still I hadn’t gone to see a single performance. We both knew I would appreciate their style, too. Talking about music bonded us over a grocery store deli counter long before sex came into the equation.

“That’s great,” I extolled uncomfortably.

Unable to fathom attending a Weeping Razor show, I knew my presence would stick out like a sore thumb in such a young crowd. Contrary to what one might think, however, that notoriety didn’t normally bother me. I attended plenty of other shows, yet the difference of dating someone on the stage gave me a weird feeling.

I figured Skyler would either understandably ignore me in his guitar hero persona or make me look like a cradle robber on his toned arm. Or worse, kids would mistake me for the musician’s mother. None of those options appealed and, again, I failed to proclaim this embarrassing truth.

Bringing me back into the awkward moment, Skyler picked up my check and rent the paper in two. He didn’t stop there, shredding the payment into confetti falling to the dingy carpet. Wiping the back of one elegant hand across his face, Sky smeared the kohl around his eye. The cosmetic became almost permanent from repeated applications. He made a conscious effort to remove traces prior to clocking in to his regular, mundane occupation.

Hurt shimmering over long lashes, he looked vulnerable. Sky also appeared abused, for lack of a better word. The term “tasty” came unbidden to my mind.

Now, I’m as abhorred by mistreatment as any healthy human being. All the same, powerful lust flooded my system. My vision narrowed to the dragon tattoo uncoiling from the haphazard cover of a dangerously loosened towel. Most of his skin remained damp from our recent, quick shower.

“Karen?”

I pounced, the robe opening as I ripped away his terry cloth wrap and fit my tongue between juicy lips. In my mind, possibilities for my next move multiplied by his recent admission. This boy liked to be tied up on occasion and the notion didn’t repulse me.

Raising my head, I barked a laugh at his dazed expression. Curled fingers raked against the back of his skull, manicured nails scratching lightly. Twisting the short hairs, I pulled his head into the sofa cushion and whispered against his throat.

“Go to the bed and wait for me.”

“What will you be doing?” His voice sounded choked. “You’re not going to get your instrument. Are you?”

“Why not? I really do want to learn more chords. After I’m done playing your body, some relaxing music lessons might be nice.”

Not willing to dive into tricky bondage without foreknowledge, I soon had Skyler comfortably in the bed. One wrist tied to his headboard, I used a scarf from my purse. I don’t recall my justification for putting one, let alone two, in the bag, but a second blindfolded him silkily as opposed to the rougher bathrobe belt. A gag out of the question, I wanted to hear him sing his pleasure.

Sky didn’t disappoint, melodiously humming my name with soft directions and erotic obscenities at every lick and caress. Lips and fingertips touched everywhere but the engorged sex swaying over his trim belly.

“Damn, Karen.” A sinuous writhe. “A little lower, Karen.” A ring of muscle tightened on a finger wetted by my mouth. “Oh! Yeah, Karen, fuck my ass, just like that.”

“Is this what you do for your male lovers? Or are you more likely to be the receiver?”

“Promise me dinner and a movie and I’ll tell you,” he panted.

“You drive a hard bargain. Agreed,” I readily acceded. “Talk, Sky.”

As his halting speech began, I sucked a nearly hairless globe into my mouth, my shoulders spreading his thighs. I moaned at his words. Sky trilled a compliment at the vibration my vocalization caused.

And still he talked, telling of his first homosexual encounter and subsequent exploration of various carnal pleasures, some of which I could only dream. Imagining my finger experienced the liquid velvet squeeze using very differently wired nerves, I underwent a small, empty orgasm. That proved enough to end my neglect of his cock.

I unrolled a condom onto his erection using recently acquired expertise, then tore a few strands of hair out of his scalp via anxious removal of the satin blindfold. He swore and I snickered apology.

“That’s okay. I like that you’re more comfortable with your body.”

He could tell I wanted him to watch me riding him. Not telling of my recent weight loss, I think the fact he didn’t notice rather intrigued as opposed to disappointing me. Only much later, when we were spent and drowsy, his faintly marked wrist recently freed and draped over my waist, did he admit the truth.

“I can tell you lost weight. While I’m glad you’re happy, I don’t want you to think I love your body any more now than before,” he muttered, adorably smug and sleepy. “Okay, Karen?”

“Sky?”

“Yeah.”

“I love that about you.” To be sure he still lay awake, I repeated, “Sky?”

“Yeah.” Serious eyes opening at my tone, he stirred and asked, “What?”

“As long as we’re safe about it as can be, I still think we should see other people. But I’m going to try harder at not feeling foolish in public. It’s not that I’m ashamed of you. Far from it. But what people must think of me makes me uncomfortable. I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you, Karen, on a few conditions.”

“Like what?”

“Guitar lessons this evening, then we go to India Palace for dinner. Afterward, we’re going to your place so we can smell incense instead of baked goods. And tomorrow, you’re mine all day. It is Sunday, after all, and I don’t have to work.”

“Yes, you do. Tomorrow night, at least,” I pronounced fretfully.

“True. And tomorrow night, at the club, you’re my special guest.”

“Agreed,” I sighed, turning my face to hide hotly blushing cheeks against the cool inside of his upper arm.

He whooped victoriously, amusingly understanding of my nervous gesture. I nipped sensitive skin to cut his hoot short with a yelp of minor pain. Then I grinned, drifting to easy sleep.

~the end~

I Said Supper Club, Not Fight Club

2010-04-16T06:50:00.000-04:00

I guess you could say I’m extraordinarily lucky. After all, my partner and I don’t argue like some people we know. We have either plenty or none of the usual suspects:

Money, kids, and sex

I’ll let you decide which is which in the none vs. plenty categories.

When there is disagreement, it takes a completely and annoyingly frivolous form – food. Tempers genuinely flare over the, “What’s for dinner?” and staying in as opposed to eating out quandary. The first query sounding innocent enough, my hackles now rise to be asked what I'm hungry for. Our initial problem lies in the fact that I often don’t care one iota what I eat. I’ve been known to say I wish my nutrition could be administered through an IV so that I didn’t have to stop writing.

Unfortunately, “I don’t care” isn’t an adequate answer no matter how many times it’s repeated as I’m forced to play “twenty questions”. Asking for a direct opinion in response earns me a quibbling, “It’s up to you.”

One evening, I replied to that by heating a package of frozen vegetables, the closest my interest comes to cooking these days. Instantly harangued and ultimately guilted into dining out, I did not much enjoy my meal or the company that night.

More recently, I received curt but ambiguous answer to my genuine desire for Thai cuisine. “I’m working.”

Perplexed, I said, “I don’t mean to be a pest and I’ll leave you alone to work, but what exactly does that mean?”

The reply was snapped readily over a slumped shoulder. Angrily slit eyes made me take a step back, mentally if not physically. “It means I’m working!”

“So, does that mean we’re staying in tonight?”

“Yes!”

On the way to the kitchen in order to stuff my face with the handiest leftovers, I grumbled, “Was that so fucking hard?”

For good measure, I shut my partner’s office door and cranked up some heavy Japanese rock.

Now I ask you, what trips your argument trigger? Inquiring minds want to know.

Thursday Thirteen ~ Delicious Scents

2010-04-15T10:02:00.000-04:00

Thirteen fragrances that turn me on:

Carnations
Cardamom
Vanilla
Drakkar Noir
Patchouli
Sandalwood
Cedar
Ocean breezes
Half & Half Tobacco in the can
Pine
Barrel-aged rum
Lilacs
Mr. Bubble bubblebath

For the fun of it, on my Darla M. Sands blog you can find the opposing, obnoxious odors, here:

Darla M. Sands

Flash Fiction Friday ~ The Sky's the Limit

2010-04-09T04:47:00.000-04:00

The Sky’s the Limit

“The usual?”

“Yeah. A half pound of the Swiss and the same of the honey ham, please. Medium slice is fine.”

I didn’t know anything about the young man behind the counter except that he worked part time and played guitar for a local heavy metal band. He’d told me after noticing the ubiquitous headphones clapped over my ears. He must have been half my age. Fortunately, I didn’t have a son to make that vulgar comparison and enjoyed an uncomplicated attraction to the kid. Amazed at our similar taste in music, he once jotted a note spelling out the title of a Norwegian black metal band he recommended. I’d been flattered, the band was good, and his pleasure at my later admission brightened my entire week.

“You can’t beat ham and cheese. Right, Karen?” Addressing my astonishment, he added, “That is your name.”

“Are you clairvoyant?”

“No, not psychic,” he refuted, laughing, “I cheated. I asked the checkout people. You’re here every Sunday, Karen. Someone was bound to remember from your credit card.”

Trying not to panic, I spoke from a gentler era, retorting, “Then you have me at a disadvantage, sir.”

“I’m sorry. My name’s Skyler,” the young man offered, catching on to my archaic inference impressively fast. “My friends call me Sky.”

“Nice to meet you, Sky. I like the name.”

“Thanks. I used to think it made me sound like a girl. Now I think it’s kind of cool. Different. You know? Like you.”

Never one to blush, I swallowed hard. Nobody would ever mistake him for a girl. Honest, friendly amusement twinkled in his dark chocolate eyes, the brow over the right showing the glint of silver. Piercings never tuned me on until I noted his. Eyebrow adornment and earrings made me wonder what metal might exist under the butcher’s apron and conservative, collared shirt.

Skyler didn’t move to fill my order and I became embarrassed by his scrutiny. My short skirt, probably too young for me, drew his eyes to my legs. I relied on their shapeliness to take notice from the few extra pounds about my waist.

“Your meat,” I stammered, trying to get him moving.

He didn’t snicker, much to his credit. If anything, he looked at me more intently.

I felt like a carefree girl instead of a middle aged, nine-to-five drone with a flailing marriage and a ranch-style house in the suburbs. Those periods of refreshment lingered after a chat with him, snippets of conversation in the time he took to run a deli slicer.

My mouth dried to a desert watching the muscles of his back through a layer of fabric. I imagined him swimming to get that body. Would he wear those ugly, huge shorts so popular at the local lake? I hoped not.

To my surprise, I found out a few days later. Thinking about Sky every day, fibbing when my husband inquired as to what was on my mind, I decided to call in sick and go for a swim. That intimate caress of water and the fantastic feeling of virtual flight through the current sent me out of the house early. I expected few people on the manmade beach, just the way I liked it. Later, swimming laps would be a battle against speed boat wake and splashing kids.

My theory turned out to be half right. The flocking hordes didn’t consist of humans, but scores of Canada geese. I headed the other direction and saw a sole sunbather stretching on a blanket as I topped a rise. I dropped my tote and choked noisily on my sour candy.

Skyler. He was naked.

I recognized him by the Asian dragon on his forearm, and stared as tapered fingers dragged a towel from his eyes. Probably hoping this interloper had not noticed his state of undress, he draped the fabric over his midsection and sat up.

Spiky black hair dripped water on a neck turned crimson with apparent mortification. Sensing my stare, he turned his head. A flash of annoyance faded instantly as those lips wrapped around a toothy smile.

“Karen!”

I grabbed the nylon tote dumped at my feet and turned, fishing out my phone to answer an imaginary call.

“Hello.” Desperately heading for the parking lot, I spoke as if to my laid-back employer. “What does it take to get a day off?” Sighing, I resigned, “Sure, I can be there in a half hour. I just need to go home and change my clothes, Jack.”

“Karen,” Sky spoke in my ear. “Your phone didn’t ring.”

“I had it on vibrate,” I fibbed, continuing to walk.

A damp hand closed over my upper arm. Shocked, I spun around. A green and gold serpent, the mythical Ouroboros, circled a navel centered by an emerald stud. One hand held the towel, drooping off his left hip where a mate to the blue dragon emerged, shimmering in the sun. Its scales of orange and red must have been a bitch to keep so bright. How often must they require touchups? He chuckled and I realized that my eyes failed to reach his face.

“I make you nervous.”

“No,” I lied. “Nice tattoos.”

“Thanks. You know, I don’t think you should ignore this serendipity. Come swim with me. I won’t bite – promise.”

Shit. I didn’t want to take off my outer beachwear and contrast myself with his youthfully slim perfection. I also didn’t want to leave. My wedding ring sat in a box at the house for the last several months, the honest excuse being that I didn’t want the germs that accumulate under the jewelry.

“I’m married, Sky.”

“Meaning you can’t swim with another man?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I have grapes,” he coaxed in a singsong voice. “Come on. They’re in your cart every time I see you. Have you had breakfast?”

I couldn’t believe this conversation. Shaking my head to indicate I'd not eaten, I let him take my hand. This had to be an elaborate joke.

“I should go.”

“No. You should relax. I’m not going to lie. I’ve often wondered what it would be like with an older woman. Then I met you. And now we’re here. It’s fate.”

“It’s wrong.”

“Tell me you haven’t thought about me the same way. Besides, my parents cheat on one another all the time and it saved their marriage.”

The one thing my husband stipulated when we started dating had been that any straying meant the end of us. Granted, that us no longer existed. I sometimes wondered why we bothered to stay together, chalking it up to laziness.

“Why are you doing this? You must have a string of girlfriends.”

“More boyfriends, actually. I’m bi.”

“Shit,” I swore involuntarily, feeling wobbly with an onslaught of arousal.

Letting go my hand, he stepped back with a brief grimace. Sky thought his lifestyle sickened me.

“You stay. I’ll go. Enjoy your swim.”

“No. It’s not what you think. Picturing you with another guy just gave me fantasy material for the rest of my life.”

“Seriously? I’m used to the other reaction, but I decided you should know up front. I get tested regularly and I’m clean.”

“This is a dream. Isn’t it?”

Encouraged by his chuckle, I let myself be led to where Skyler’s little cooler sat on the sand. Smart man, he owned a sturdy one with a snap closure. These geese were incorrigible thieves.

He sat with the towel covering him and patted the blanket. I sat, shells about the cowl neckline of my poncho-style swimsuit cover clicking while I settled on one hip, legs curled to the side.

“That’s a really cool robe. Where did you get it?”

“I don’t know anymore. It’s probably older than you.”

“Don’t talk like that. I’ll bet I’m older than you think.”

“Twenty-three?”

Snorting, he shook his head. Gelled peaks didn’t move on his head. Sky opened the cooler and drew out a tub of fruit. A neatly matched set held carrots and celery, perhaps some sort of dip.

“Sorry. I feel bad, now. I’m twenty-one. Not so long ago I got mistaken for seventeen.”

I didn’t mention that my garment was, indeed, older. Sky smiled and I no longer cared. Seventeen seemed an absurdly low guess, at least; I could smell his aftershave and knew that a hint of beard developed under that porcelain skin before his shift at the grocery store ended.

“So, are you going to college?”

“No,” he sternly announced, surprising me. “We are not having that kind of conversation. No boring talk about what my major is and what my plans are for the future. I have a better question.”

“Oh?”

“Will you let me feed you grapes mouth to mouth?”

“I shouldn’t…”

He didn’t let me finish. The juicy globes were delicious, made more so by his tongue pushing them between my lips. A thousand questions raced through my mind. Accusations might be the better word, in fact, yet I couldn’t stop my hands from drifting to his shoulders, slightly greasy with sunscreen.

When the grapes ran out, he frowned like a little boy. I didn’t mind. It gave me a chance to catch my breath and study Sky’s face.

“Are you real?”

“Yeah! I just like living life instead of wishing I’d seen the ocean or kissed a certain boy. Or girl,” he added, tilting his head.

“I guess you don’t mind a woman on the heavier side,” I judged, looking down my torso as he clucked disapproval. “What kind of boys do you like?”

“Ooh, now, that’s a good question. The idea really turns you on. Huh? Kissing you revved my engine, lady, no matter how hard you want to be on yourself. See?”

Lifting his towel, I saw a decidedly curved, narrow penis pointing toward his belly. No metal there, just stiff flesh. I dropped my hand from his shoulder and stroked his velvet skin tentatively. Sky’s night-dark eyes closed and opened as I released him. My bravado shocked me.

“Karen, can we go somewhere more private?” Licking his lips, he confessed, “I’ve been busted for indecent exposure here and don’t need to get into more trouble.”

Knowing agreement opened a door I could never properly close, I contended, “We can’t go to my house. My husband works from home. Where would you suggest? Do you live with your folks?”

Making a face as he nodded, he again reminded me of a little kid. He could have almost passed for seventeen with that wrinkled nose and pouty grimace.

“You probably think it’s pathetic.”

“Not if you’re happy. You want adventure, and working a fulltime job to pay the mortgage puts a definite damper on that.”

Sky leaned close, lips trapping mine sans fruit. He tasted sweeter than grapes and I hummed acclaim.

“It’s the pineapple juice,” he explained intuitively.

“What?”

“My last boyfriend taught me the trick of drinking a full glass of pineapple juice every day. It gets into your system and sweetens everything.”

“Everything,” my throat clicked upon echoing his remark.

“Everything,” Sky repeated, smiling lasciviously.

I feared for a moment I might swallow my tongue. Fighting the urge to lower him to the ground and find out right then and there how tasty Sky’s juice might be, I remembered a lodge in the last town on the way here. We’d best use condoms, anyway, and there just so happened to be a drug store next to the motel.

Huskily, I asked, “Where’s your car?”

“I don’t have one. I hitchhiked.”

“Sky! That’s not safe.”

“Yeah,” Skyler agreed casually. “Blow jobs have gotten me out of a few jams.”

Shaking my head, I cursed again. He just hooted, letting me in on the joke by pointing to an old motorcycle.

We were almost to my car by this time, the bike hidden by a dumpster. Inside a wide, leather saddlebag he exchanged the cooler for clothing and shoes. Sky tugged on a second skin of faded denim.

He stopped to pick a cigarette butt off the bottom of his bare soul, scuffed sneakers dangling from a hooked finger by ratty shoelaces. I vowed to get him into a shower before bed. Even as that wisdom came to mind I marveled at my nonchalant acceptance without stopping for any heavy soul searching.

Sky parked next to my car after following me to the town’s sole inn. Waving, he walked next door, having already offered to pick up some drugstore items. I went inside to secure a room. Not anticipating an argument with the hotel desk clerk, the morning hour never occurred to me as an obstacle. My patience proved much shorter than my funds.

“We’re tired from a long drive,” I storied. “Just bill me for last night and tonight. Will that do?”

She blinked at me, taken off guard by my generous solution. Then she nodded, stuttering, and I realized her speech impairment took the form of Skyler’s approach. He’d donned a ragged shirt advertising a brand of guitar amplifiers and the battered shoes without socks. A curiously hefty pharmacy bag dangled from his wrist. Sky looked like sex on a stick, scruffy apparel especially intriguing with the rock star hair.

“You don’t have the room yet, Karen? I’m dying for a bath. I bought bubble soap, too,” he announced, producing the item.

I eyed the bottle approvingly. This would be much better than a shower. Clacking my credit card on the counter, I rolled my eyes to indicate that I’d explain the delay later.

“That will be eighty - four dollars.”

In a stage whisper, Skyler asked, “For one night?”

“Don’t worry,” I advised. “I’ve got it covered.”

Somehow, we never got around to explanations. Sky insinuated himself in my arms the moment elevator doors closed. Tongue in my mouth, he ground slim hips against me so my knees quaked.

Sky’s hand found my waist and I denied my temptation to move his touch to somewhere less out-of-shape. He seemed to sense this, nonetheless.

Pulling back his head, he warned, “I won’t let some silly self-consciousness of yours ruin this. I’m going to love your body, in all the ways that matter.”

Then he cradled the back of my head from the hard wall and kissed me like no man before. Just the prior evening, my judgmental spouse announced that he couldn’t imagine having sex again until I lost weight. Skyler obviously didn’t share the opinion.

It took me three tries to manage the key card and open the door. Sky bumping into my backside distracted me, hair pulled aside so his lips could tickle sensitive nerves in my neck. He worked my fabric belt out of the knot and wrapped the cotton strip around his wrist evocatively.

In room 308, Sky’s shirt hit the floor while his shoe rolled to a stop in the closet against its mate. He unsnapped the bubble soap bottle and tossed the cotton belt on the bed. Pants unbuttoned, the tip of his erection showed naked above what I considered a very dangerous zipper.

“I’ll start a bath. Then I’m going to undress you, Karen. Why don’t you see if you can tune in a decent station?”

A part of me urged escape, to dart out the door. He didn’t give me the opportunity, spiky crown catching my wary eyes as he peered around the doorway.

“It’s awfully quiet in here. Why didn’t you turn on the radio?”

“Just a little stunned, I guess. I can do better than the radio.”

Letting my beach bag slide to the carpet, I bent down for the waterproof docking station for my music player. I quickly found the ideal playlist featuring suggestive lyrics and erotic drum beats.

“Cool toy. Now, come here.”

Slipping off my sandals, I walked to him dutifully. With the mostly open jeans showcasing his vitally alive form, I couldn’t resist.

Sky wasted no time in lifting off my white outer garment and tossing it over a luggage rack. A knuckle slipped under the shoulder strap of my one-piece suit. His other hand went to my side.

“You’re so warm,” Sky praised.

“You, too.”

“Not really. That’s one reason for the bath.”

“But your skin feels almost hot.”

“I run high, Karen. In truth, I should have worn a jacket on the bike. I’m practically frozen to the bone. Well, the internal ones,” he joked breathily, my cautious grip holding him and opening his zipper the rest of the way.

Without warning, Sky’s right index finger twisted the elastic nylon and shifted my shoulder strap over far enough to expose the uppermost swell of breast. Left hand fingertips brushed the skin and I tossed my head back. I breathed deep his compliments between almost suffocating kisses.

He swayed me in an intimate dance backward to the bathroom. Along the way, he somehow peeled off my swimsuit and his jeans before we stepped into the tub. His hands washed me and himself with languid caresses. Bubbles and heat and Skyler proved to be a dizzying combination. He helped me stand for a quick rinse under the shower spray.

Somehow, his hair stayed the same while mine wilted in the steam. I made a foggy mental note to ask what brand styling products he used, forgetting immediately as he ran his fingers over my scalp and a few hoarse words praised the softness of my locks.

I squeaked when he lifted me. In five steps, Sky arrived at the bed and dropped me on the comforter.

“I want you. Now. Enough foreplay.”

Incisors sparkling in the gloom, his teeth tore open a foil packet. The latex rolled over his length one moment and then his body fitted overtop mine on the mattress. Feeling the lubrication of the rubber, I took his hand to show how readily my own moisture accumulated. He groaned and slid his fingers between my legs repeatedly, torturous as cunnilingus without penetration.

“Please, don’t make me wait. I want to feel you inside me, Sky.”

“Guide me in.”

Unable to keep my eyes open, I let my hands explore as we moved together. His ink looked so alive in the morning sunshine that I expected the pictures to have a texture. Almost startled that they felt as silky smooth as the rest of his skin, I found Sky’s words even more shocking.

“Let’s go to the balcony. I want the world to see how beautiful you are.”

“You’re crazy!”

“Maybe. I also want to stop briefly so I can make this last. You don’t have anywhere you need to be. Do you?”

“Yes, Sky. Right here. I needed this so badly,” I slurred drunkenly.

“Need-ed? Karen, honey, we’ve barely started.”

“Oh, good. No exhibitionism, though. Okay? You seeing me is about all I can handle at this point.”

“I wish you’d stop talking like that. It’s probably wise to give it a skip, though. Eh? This is a major intersection. Let’s go to the bathroom.”

“Bathroom?”

“Yeah. There’s a really big mirror in there and a countertop where I can take you standing up.”

Only ever imagining sex on any surface other than a bed with my unadventurous spouse, I readily agreed. Sky treated me like a precious possession, sitting me down on towels arranged for my comfort.

The narrow room allowed me to leverage the balls of my feet up high, legs relaxed. I liked the way he watched us joining together. That probably triggered my orgasm as much as the sensation of his body meeting mine and pulling back slowly, maintaining the barest entry until his rhythm started into me again.

Only countless minutes and several used condoms later did we talk in more than grunts and moans. I needed to get home. He had a private guitar lesson.

“It pays my car insurance and gets me out of the house. What I make at the store is being saved for that boring future I don’t want to talk about.”

“Then we don’t have to. But sign me up for weekly lessons.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes. We’ll arrange to meet somewhere. I might even bring a guitar,” I teased.

“I’d like that.”

My husband wouldn’t. I needed to make a momentous confession when I got home. Rather than fearful, a future without that scowling critic suddenly opened endless possibilities to my imagination.

~the end~

Flash Fiction Friday

2010-04-02T12:57:00.001-04:00

Come on over for a short read to celebrate the start of the weekend. I hope you enjoy!

Darla M. Sands

Thursday Thirteen ~ Joys of Summer

2010-04-01T09:31:00.001-04:00

Today, local temperatures are predicted to be eighty degrees Fahrenheit, an unseasonable heat wave. This inspired me to celebrate the coming of summer. I don’t particularly care for hot weather save one bonus – half-naked men.

As little as a bare arm hanging out of an open pickup window has been known to nearly send me off the road. Here are specific descriptions of my favorite male body parts.

1. Nose - inexplicably, I adore one with character, often translated as a hawk-like Romanesque proboscis

2. Neck - long, preferably under a well-kept cascade of hair

3. Hands – broad, slender, rough, smooth, as long as his knuckles aren’t hairy I like to imagine how they might feel

4. Arms – see above, changing “hairy” to “excessively hirsute”

5. Feet – here, it’s all about slim appendages, especially bared above a ragged denim hem or neatly cuffed suit pants

6. Tummy - that span on a flat-bellied young man between his navel and the waistband of his shorts, especially the denim cutoffs I sadly never see anymore

7. Lips – make them shapely, moist, and parted to emit incoherent sounds of pleasure

8. Shoulders – smooth and not obscenely broad, think runner instead of linebacker

9. Voice – mellifluous, never loud and definitely not overused; an accent is nice but not necessary and, for that matter, English speaking is optional

10. Legs – long and lean with a dusting of hair

11. Back – scars and tattoos can be interesting to contemplate, hairless is a must

12. Chest – I’ve admittedly become a convert to the waxed, metro-sexual look; it’s nice to think of a guy taking time to groom himself, or perhaps needing a little help

13. Ass – I had to mention this, though all I want to picture at the moment is an Asian male in sweet repose with a sheet barely covering his slender curves and that tauntingly shadowed cleft (Thanks again, Dilo)

Flash Fiction Friday

2010-03-26T17:21:00.000-04:00

Sometimes, You Feel a Little Country

“Country music, Michael?”

“Yes, Simon. Surprised?”

“Frankly, yes.”

“What can I say? I like variety,” Michael confessed, lewdly eyeing his lover from top to bottom. “And it’s actually from a friend. She sent this because I always end up talking about you every time we speak.”

“Huh?”

“Look at the playlist title.”

“Country love mix. Nice.”

“Yeah. I love you, Simon.”

Not waiting for the larger male to echo the sentiment, Michael stepped closer on tiptoe in the foyer and kissed him. The hour late, Simon Montague’s workday over, the couple melted into one another. They would finalize dinner reservations soon enough.

Michael adored the way strong, confident fingers tangled the red-gold curls tumbling over his silk-clad shoulders. Balls of bare feet felt the music thrumming through the floor. A broad hand slid down his back, smoothing over Michael’s tingling spine to cup his behind. Devouring his mouth, Simon quickened the young and healthy heart better than any martial exercise.

The influential lawyer’s expensive suit felt good under Michael’s hands even as he wished that charcoal and white-pinstriped barrier would disappear. The firm body beneath held much more interesting textures. A certain line in the new song seemed to amuse Simon by the chuff exuded into Michael’s mouth.

Firm lips left the faintly tinted ones with a final teasing peck. Onyx orbs were so near that Michael could see the granite kohl outlining his own gray-green eyes. The makeup indicated his anticipation of supper at some swanky place where the rich and powerful could fawn over his Simon, one of the greatest among them.

“Is that what you do with your friend?”

“What?”

“Kiss and tell. The country singer claims not to. What about Michael Blanc? If you say yes, I’ll have to punish you.”

“What about dinner?”

“Dial up something simple on the auto-mat. Later. I hope you’re not disappointed. You look tastier than overpriced nibbles of experimental kibble.”

“Kibble nibbles. Funny man. And disappointed? Hardly. Delicacies like suffocated kumquat and cheese-puff sushi don’t appeal at all compared to you.”

Simon reconnected their mouths without warning and swung his young lover’s hips into the beat humming from the wall speakers. Agile and intuitive, Michael stepped with Simon’s lead and they were dancing.

Michael shifted his hold from the long neck to clasp Simon’s shoulders. They spun and swayed as if one flesh.

Simon clearly stepped lightly, mindful of vulnerable appendages. His fashionably practical platform shoes avoiding tender toes were too new to have set foot on the earth’s charred crust. The pair rarely left their affluent sky-high home and offices except to ride in an aircar. Now it looked as if they wouldn’t even do that.

Dizzied by Simon and a rush of vertigo, Michael didn’t open his eyes. The blind trust garnered a groan of approval. Then a grunt followed, the slender form thrust into adjoining living room walls. Ironically, a woman’s voice crooned, “I don’t paint myself into corners any more.”

Michael was too busy being worshipfully molested to laugh. Big hands were all over him, kisses trailing down his chin. Nips followed his jaw to bring the wide mouth behind an ear. Sharp teeth scraped the line of shoulder until Simon’s nose bunched the soft fabric out of his way.

Slim, pale hands never left Simon’s shoulders. Michael couldn’t even think while his shirt came undone. The brunette liked the vulnerable look of a bared body, arms kept trapped in cloth. Soon Simon achieved his vision and the smooth chest heaved under his scrutiny.

“You still have your hat on,” Michael gasped.

Hands arranging the collar flopped behind Michael’s nape, the fedora-topped head nodded affirmation. Smiling wolfishly, Simon swept the cap off and tenderly canted it atop Michael’s crown. The felt lid pushed long bangs into the sweeping range of mascaraed lashes. Michael blinked, thrilling at the dangerous notion of a deer in the headlights.

“You never answered my question.”

Bewildered, Michael took a breathless guess and panted, “We’ll have crackers and caviar?”

“Sounds good. But no. Do you kiss and tell?”

“Oh,” Michael purred, “sometimes. I have to brag about my man.”

“I could do the same. You look stunning tonight, even before I un-wrapped you.”

Michael’s belly clenched, tensely aroused to be touched by more than eyes. He willed patience to prevail, unaware that he fisted the hem of his shirt.

“Relax,” Simon advised observantly. “We have all night. This music makes me want to take it slow, take you slow. In fact, have a seat on the couch. Let me feed you.”

‘Sun-spotted moodsetter,’ Michael swore silently.

His formal training kicked in, the formerly licensed Corporate Stress Reliever playing to his lover’s desire just as he once did for all the man’s underlings at the law firm. Michael never expected monogamy to be nearly as demanding. Yet this was one of the biggest reasons he loved Simon so.

Left alone to settle on the sofa, Michael surreptitiously dabbed a shirttail over the bead of moisture at the tip of his erection. He lifted one knee and curled the other leg seductively on a pillow slanted against the arm of the couch. Neatly folding the sleeves back from his wrists, he made certain to show off the color on his nails. Translucent rose-brown perfectly matched his lips and nipples, all rouged to a subtle glow. He checked his reflection in the window overlooking the city and adjusted the wide brim a tiny bit.

Simon padded silently back into the room, his shoes and socks discarded along with the coat. The tab-collared shirt opened by another button, his hair artfully rumpled, the man clearly took time to look attractive in an understated manner. Michael appreciated the stimulating consideration. The fine dusting of chest hair drew his eye, in particular, and he could distinguish the sharp points standing out from the well-developed pectorals.

Michael’s strength less apparent, he liked how slight he felt next to Simon. The clatter of Simon’s burden revealed the mutual admiration and anticipation. A self-deprecating chuckle announced his ease over that little betrayal. Michael smiled in response, partly over what his mate brought.

“You don’t like cream cheese.”

“You do. And it’s growing on me. The delivery system makes all the difference.”

To demonstrate, he sat and scooped Michael’s hand off his naked thigh. Bringing the dish to tapered digits, he dipped them into the dense cheese spread and bent Michael’s arm. His lips closed over the dollop and he sucked every knuckle clean. Black eyes didn’t let Michael go even as lips released him and Simon spoke amusedly.

“Are you okay?”

“I am now.”

“Good. Now, are you ready for a cracker? Oh, crap. I forgot something to drink.”

“That’s okay. I doubt we’ll be eating much.”

They fed one another, each bite carefully constructed with the perfect balance of salt, crunch, and creaminess. Frequently, Michael would make sure to leave a dab of food on his lip. Simon’s thick tongue would swab the spill and invade whichever corner he happened to find needing attention.

Miraculously, tilted faces kept Michael’s cover firmly upon his pate. Eventually, however, their deep kisses pushed them beyond foreplay and knocked the fedora to the floor. The rich man’s garments went away under tremulous, frenzied hands.

This new dance followed its own rhythm, twined bodies influenced more by the message than any musical pulse from these ancient recordings. Simon maneuvered his young love gently but willfully, flipping Michael to face the back of the couch. Practiced probes readied the receptive, palms eventually spreading wide his cleft for their joining.

Michael bit into the cushion when his lover entered him, the twinge brief and the pleasure exquisite. Simon growled when Michael begged for him to let go, that wet throb within forcing orgasm through his own mind and body like nothing else.

“Please!” Virtually shouting, Michael cried, “Make me come.”

When his mind returned to his body, Michael realized that Simon was speaking. The words could have been a foreign language for all he could make of them.

“What’s that, love? My brain is fogged.”

“I said, I think I’ll call you Liechtenstein.”

“You were speaking another language. What do you mean?”

“Well, sometimes you feel a little country.”

Falling to the floor hurt more than a little. All the same, both men felt fabulous for the endorphin rush of great sex followed by a bad pun.

~the end~