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Sunday, December 11, 2011

Excerpt from 'TAG'

This is an excerpt from the Thriller I'm working on called TAG. I hope you like it. Let me know what you think! As always, I will respond to your comments. Thank you!!

He slowly walked along the cold concrete corridor.  There was no telling how long it would take so he was sure to use a timer. Rope slung over his shoulder and a large box in his hands filled him like a mule. Sounds of the wires dragging behind him echoed through the long corridor. He stepped cautiously with impaired vision, a box of glass and tangles of wire around he’d hate to trip.

Screams permeated through the halls along with loud thuds and bangs. He ignored it and continued on carefully until he got to very end. Sweat beaded at his brow and stained the underarms of his thermal shirt. The discomfort annoyed him.

It seemed like it took nearly an hour to get all the way down there. He looked around the corner of the box in his arms to see his watch. I actually had taken about that long. His breathing only slightly above normal was now polluted with stagnant air. He huffed at the thought of the damage it could be doing to his lungs. He didn’t care.

The screams were much louder now and bounced off the solid concrete walls giving an echo its own echo. He stopped in the center of the room and eyed each corner and wall in deep thought. He paid no mind to the screamer or to the horrible grumbling sounds coming from the door on the west wall.  He looked up to find a large vent in the ceiling, but he knew it wasn’t operational.

He bit the dead, dry skin from his lower lip and squinted in thought. With his big, fat knuckled hands on his hips he turned his attention to the chains hanging in the rafters. He scratched his scruffy chin and considered using them. After another scan of the room he began to develop his plan.

He pulled the chords from his bundle of supplies and began unwinding them. One at a time he carefully and skillfully wired one end to a bulb base on a large sheet of steel. When he finished, he patiently moved on to make another, then another until he made nearly 2 dozen of them.

Once he’d lined them up on the ground, he moved onto the box. He opened it and began pulling out bulb after bulb from the box. Each bulb was a 400 watt high intensity bulb. He attached one bulb per sheet from both ends, then he lined up the sheets side by side. After punching holes into the sides of every sheet he began to wire them together leaving large gaps in between each sheet.

When they were all wired together he stood them up so they were all vertical creating a large circle in the center of the room. He left a large opening between each end sheet of metal making up an entrance into the middle of this metallic concoction.

Once this had been accomplished he then began wiring each individual wire to the next turning bunches of 3 into a single wire unit. So instead of having 24 wires he had 8. After the plugs were connected they were ready for action.

He stood back cross armed and studied the machine. With a nod of approval he bent and picked up a long industrial extension cord and walked over to the rear wall and plugged it into a socket box hanging from the rafters. Then he walked to the opposite wall and did the same, and then the next wall until he’d plugged 4 multi socket extension cords in and brought them all as close to the machine as possible. He again stood back and admired his handy work for a moment.

But time was ticking. He glanced at his watch. He hated feeling rushed. He turned around and looked at the large woman who’d quit screaming the moment he began working in the cold musty room. He looked up at the hooks and chains hanging overhead for a moment. The thought had crossed his mind, but he knew he had to practice patience. The end result would be far more interesting in this new endeavor.

A smile cracked across his dirty, sweat stained face. The creases at the corners of his eyes deepened as the grin grew.  He slowly stepped over to the woman. She was bigger than he was used to, maybe a size 18 or so. So he knew she wouldn’t go as easily as he was used to. He braced himself and began moving faster toward her.

She heard him coming. The blindfold only hid so much. Her heart raced as fear penetrated her every pore. She began screaming through the gag again. She had no idea where she was but the strong odor of rotten meat offended her old factory.

Just as she began to scream he bent down and grabbed her by the waist in a foot ball tackle sort of way, hoisting her up over his shoulder. He grunted and his knees nearly buckled but with an extra umph he managed to stand and bring her over to the center of his new brain child.

The woman kicked and squirmed but it was no use. He was strong and didn’t seem to mind taking the hits. Before she knew what was coming she was dropped on the hard floor making a cracking sound. She bellowed with the new pain forming at her hip.

Ignoring her cries, he lowered two chains from the rafters, just low enough to tie the ropes to. Then without untying her binds he forced the woman to stand up and stretched her arms up over her head. He wrapped the rope tightly around one wrist then he untied the binds and pulled her other fighting arm to the other rope and tied it tightly around her wrist.

She tried her damndest to knee him in the nuts but the searing pain rushing through her hip was crippling. She was almost thankful for the ropes as they took most of her weight off of her feet. But the fear of the next salvo was killing her spirit.  At that thought, the woman sprang to life pulling all her weight up onto the ropes and driving a knee straight to the target.

He went down like a ton of bricks cussing as he rolled on the concrete. “You fucking bitch!” he growled through clenched plaque riddled teeth.  His breath came short as he cupped his shrunken battered cock. “Oh I’m going to enjoy this.” He growled bringing himself up slowly, still cupping his balls and taking the occasional deep breath.

He looked at the woman who was panting with fear and standing on one foot favoring her injury. He stared at her limp leg with venom in his eyes then slowly scanned the room. His eyes stopped on a long piece of a 2x4 sitting clumsily on one of the many steel shelves against the southern wall of the room. He limped over only letting go of his crotch with the one hand needed to grab the wood. He slowly hobbled back to the suspended woman. He stood there a moment looking at her face with an evil smile growing on his own. He wound up, motioned a practice swing then let the real swing fly. ‘WHACK’ The wood thundered against her injured hip making her scream bloody murder into the hall of echoes.

He watched her howl and cry in pain. The noise didn’t bother him at all. He looked up at those hooks again thinking how easy it would be. A sigh escaped his nostrils as he tossed the idea. Changing his mind set, he looked down at the woman’s feet. She was wearing running shoes. Funny he thought. She wasn’t running when he found her. She was sitting in line at a McDonald’s drive through.

He wondered if he should tie her feet to the drain in the floor below her or just leave them untied and give her a fighting chance. He smirked. More like a slightly extended life expectancy. Yep, that was it. He would leave her feet free. It would be more interesting this way.

He took his pocket knife out of his back pocket and began cutting the clothes off the woman. With every cut, he’d rip the strip off making the woman scream in agony over and over. He took pleasure in her cries. His nuts still throbbed.

When she was completely stripped of clothes he backed away and pocketed his knife. Wiping his forehead on his dirty sleeve he sniffed the matted dusty air and caught his breath.

Satisfied with this, he walked over to a large bag he’d brought in earlier in the evening. He opened it up and pulled out a large tub of margarine. He grinned and walked over to the naked, trembling woman. He ripped the cover off the container and dunked his hand into the vat of margarine then smeared it all over the whimpering woman. From head to toe, she was slathered in margarine.

Once he’d emptied the container he kicked it aside and dug into his bag again and pulled out a retractable razor. He pressed the button and released the razor. Taking it between his fingers he freed it from the holder and headed back to the unfortunate woman. Pausing looking into her face again wishing he could just do it right now, he sighed and simply began making small slashes over her skin.

The woman screamed and cried as blood trickled in thin lines down each slit. Her begging nearly gave him an erection. But he was getting tired and he knew that time was running short.

He stepped out of the circle of bulbs and walked around the outside flicking the switch on all four extension cords. One by one, the bulbs blinked on and a buzz filled the air. He watched for a moment and checked each wire to make sure there were no problems. When satisfied with his work he headed to the door on the west wall. As he got closer the noises got louder.

He opened the door exposing the small broom closet sized room to the bright new light glowing from his newest invention.  Snarls broke through the thick air that stunk of wet animals. Inside the room was a large rod iron cage. Inside the cage was about a half dozen wild dogs. He’d found them circling cows in a farm on the far side of town. It was easy catching them with the cage and a little raw meat. But starving them and then trying to move them was tricky.

He took another deep breath and stepped closer to the cage. The dogs spit and snarled showing long starving fangs and snapping at the bars drawing blood from their own mouths. The hunger was starting to get to them. They began snapping and chewing at each other when they weren’t trying to escape the iron cage.

He took another step closer and set the gear timer in motion. He had rigged the cage to gears with a car battery and an old motorcycle motor. He set the idol really low so that the cage door opened very slowly. It would most likely be about an hour and a half before the door of the cage would be open enough for the dogs to start squeezing out.

With a nod of approval he turned on his heel and set up a mini camera in the upper corner of the Northern most wall. The camera had a complete view of the room without showing the doorway out. He’d thought it through several times. It would never show him leaving. It would only show Cyrus arriving. What came next was up to Cyrus.

He picked up all his tools and belongings and exited the room closing the door behind him leaving the woman to fend for herself when the dogs broke out.

As he sat in the car with the journal in his lap he scribbled the words:

In the South end of town where the farmers sound
The bells of their cows through shot gun shells
Now has a hidden gem, a nice quiet den
Deep in the crete where you can smell meat
You will find the witness blind
But eyes will spy even as the sun doesn’t shine
On this kind of plant where dogs don’t just pant
Though the plant is closed it will open its toes
In 2 hours flat you’d better watch your back.
TAG! You’re it.

With a grin he closed the journal and threw it on the passenger seat of his van. He cranked the ignition and set off on his way.

Okay now, let me know what you think! Keep in mind...its a rough draft. Its the idea and details I'd like criticism on if you please! :)

Saturday, November 5, 2011

Excerpt From 'Hostage'

Before long, 11:30pm rolled around. Ivy was sitting in a dirty chair in the office of the Bottom Feeder. Other performers and waitresses were rushing around, in and out of the office. The dungeon was packed. The blistering volume of the band on stage was like industrial attention glue. Ivy couldn’t keep her eyes off of them. An ass kicking bass guitar matched heavy gritty explosions with the bass drum kicks. Two electric guitars raced through perfect melodic riffs. There was an electronic keyboard adding character to every beat. The vocals weren’t very strong but the music was bait!
Between the mayhem in the crowd and the metal on the stage Ivy thought the walls would crumble. She had never been more excited in her entire life!
Ivy was startled at the touch of a hand on her shoulder. Spinning around, she saw the big man, Hef, standing there.
“I’m glad you’re a little early.” He yelled over the crowd. “So?” he said gesturing towards the crowd. “Think you’ll survive?”
A smile crept over Ivy’s face. “I’ll be fine.” she hollered back.
“Good.” he said. “Cuz you’re on now. The people are a little crazy tonight. The secondary guitarist split his fingers.” He said pointing to the band on stage. “He’s just barely holding out. We can’t afford 10 minutes of silence. These people want entertainment. So let’s see what you got, lady. Get out there.” he instructed.
Just as Ivy was turning to do as he said, she heard him add, “God be with you.” Ivy put on her holier than thou front and headed for the stage.
The band on stage saw her coming with her guitar in hand. The lead vocalist who was also a guitarist was looking straight at her as he played. His dark hair came down in spikes over his deep black hypnotic eyes. He had plenty of piercings. His ears were half covered with thick silver hoops, much like her own. His lip was pierced twice, just above the chin and his eyebrows sported several bars and hoops. As Ivy got closer she could see heavily colored tattoos creeping up the sides of his neck. Ivy had always loved the way that looked on a man. His eyes stayed fixed on hers till she was at the steps leading up to the stage. Then he glanced over her head to see Hef giving him the okay to take their leave. The singer looked back at Ivy and nodded. He signaled the message to the rest of the band who, in turn, began rolling to a heavy finish.
The drummer’s purple dread locks flailed wildly as he punched his last kick. He had a look that made Ivy feel like that saying about all drummers being a little disturbed might be right. He had those wild ice blue eyes like Flea from the Red Hot Chile Peppers. He was muscular but thin. It was an observation that was all too obvious because he wasn’t wearing a shirt. And of course, both nipples were pierced and he had several tattoos on his chest and arms.
The bassist was short and stocky. His hair was admirable. It was lush, smooth, poker straight and shinny. His impressive black hair fell all the way down to his guitar. There was so much of it hanging in his face Ivy couldn’t really make out the details. He was wearing a Woodstock T-shirt, baggy cargo jeans, and combat boots.
The secondary guitarist was a very large man. Probably about 6 ft. tall, 220 lb. Nice build. His hair was dirty blonde and didn’t appear to have ever met a brush. His chin and cheeks had that dusted look that implied that there just wasn’t enough time for him to shave this week. He had a tortured kind of look on his face. It must have been those bloody fingers of his, still racing over razor blade strings.
The guy on the keyboard was a small, skinny little strap of a boy. He didn’t seem to be quite as old as the others. He might have been 18 or 19. Back in high school, Ivy would have considered him to be a geek. The fact that he was playing with a metal band put that title out of the picture in her mind. Maybe that’s why he did it. To stay in the safe house so as not to get beat up.
The front man closed the gig by taking the microphone, “All right everyone, you’ve got five minutes to piss and refill you glasses. Thank you and have a good night!” As he finished his sentence he took another long look at Ivy before turning and talking with his band mates.
Ivy thought the amount of interest he had in her was a little odd. Ivy wasn’t sure if maybe he was sizing her up professionally, or what. Or maybe it had something to do with the fact that she was a woman, alone, ready to perform by herself in front of all these animals.
The crowd seemed to sway and separate as the band began to exit the stage right in front of Ivy. They all eyed her questionably, slowly, and blatantly as they came down the steps. The last one was the front man. He stopped at the bottom of the steps in front of her looking her up and down with his guitar in his hand. He captured Ivy’s attention.
“Are you here performing alone?” he asked in a husky but tired voice. Ivy smiled slightly and nodded, keeping her eyes contentedly focused on his.
“I’ve never seen anyone ballsy enough to come into a place like this with nothing but a guitar and their own guts. Never mind a woman.” he said with what sounded like condescending concern in his voice.
Ivy smiled menacingly and replied, “There’s a first time for everything.” 

I'd love some feedback. Tell me your thoughts...good and bad! I'm cool with it! :)

Friday, October 21, 2011

The first (partial) Chapter of my Biography

Okay now I should warn you, as much as I'm known for my goofy antics and sarcasm, this story is nothing to laugh about. If you've got a weak stomach you shouldn't read this. But if you're tough enough, please let me know what you think of it. By that I don't mean the story itself, just the writing and how I went about putting it together. This is a story I've been struggling with for a very long time. I'm not sure how to put it together. So any tips would be greatly appreciated. Thank you for your time and thoughts! I'll be responding to your comments so check back! Enjoy!

Of course you can’t remember things from when you were an infant, but as time goes by, you tend to remember things, little things. And after a while, you begin to put things together and you start to see now what you saw then but just didn’t understand.
For example, I remember the house we lived in. It was in Massachusetts. It was a small blue house. I’m not sure why, but we always called it “the blue house”.
“Do you remember your brother dangling you out the second story window by your ankles when you were a baby, Kara? You remember, at the blue house. You laughed and laughed until you realized he meant to let go.” Or, “Hey, I remember when your sister Ann made you eat a dirt pie in the back yard after a good rain when we lived in the blue house.”
We moved when I turned 5 so all the stories in this chapter pertain to, “the blue house”.

 I remember it so vividly. The entrance was on the right hand side of the house where the drive way was. Once you pulled in, there was an old garage my mother only used for storage on the right. Past that was a swing set and some other miscellaneous toys. To the left was the entrance to the house. Two steps up and when you opened the door, directly to the right was the doorway to the basement which my mother used as her art room/extra room that she fixed up and rented out for money. Once you passed the basement door there was another short set of maybe four stairs and another door that led to the kitchen. I was nothing spectacular. We were never a family of means. The bathroom was off of the kitchen. If you passed straight through the kitchen, it brought you to the living room. It was small but comfortable. To the left was the master bedroom which was connected to the front door. Awkward, but I wasn’t the floor planner. Back in the living room there was a cubby hole where we kept all our toys for downstairs play time. I’ve been stuffed in it countless times by both my older sister and brother. Could be why I am now claustrophobic. But any way, there was a door that opened to the staircase going to the second floor. There were two bedrooms up there. My sister, Ann and I shared a room and my brother, Gerard had his own.
There was a good sized front yard where I remember my brother pushing me up and down the walkway on my little red tricycle.
I also remember coming home from the Big E with cotton candy and rubbing it in the mud and eating it. According to my mother, I ate everything I could fit in my mouth. Like egg shells, coffee beans, rocks, dirt, litter and whatever else you can think of.  I guess I was the typical toddler.
Life wasn’t always as normal as it may sound. I also remember a very serious lack of supervision.  There is definitely a problem when a 4 year old (myself) and a 10 year old (Gerard) are climbing up the ladder resting on the garage which is over 10 feet high and playing for an extended period of time on the roof of the garage. I remember blowing bubbles with Gerard and we were trying to catch the ones that the wind took too high. (I also remember putting those in my mouth.) All the while, my sister, Ann was on the ground coaxing us to jump. I know my mother was in the house, not paying any attention to her three kids playing outside. To this day, no one knows we did that.
I guess she had a pretty good reason for not paying proper attention to us. Drugs have a way of withdrawing a person. Of course, I didn’t realize at the time just what was going on in my home. I didn’t realize that my mommy was a strawberry. In case you’re not up with the lingo, a strawberry is a woman whose habits have overcome her and she begins to do anything for a fix. Yes, anything. I have clear memories of strange men coming into our house, acting in a not so nice kind of way to my mother who took it in full stride and disappearing into her bedroom where lots of strange noises emerged. And shortly thereafter the men would leave and mommy’s bankroll would be a little fatter. Either that or she would remain in her room and smoke her special medicine cigarettes.
There was a time when I had gotten very sick. I was standing up in my crib with a full diaper and a pain in my belly that would not let me rest. I cried and cried waiting for my mother to come in and check on me. There was a terrible thunderstorm outside. My bedroom window had no curtains so I could see the rain coming down and I could hear the thunder rumbling angrily outside. It seemed like I had been crying forever and the pain in my belly grew stronger. I wailed preying that my mother would wake up and come get me, but instead, her new boyfriend (my babysitter) came charging up the stairs with an angry face. Mike yanked me out of my crib and hauled me down stairs to the living room. He sat on the couch grumbling in mean words that I was not allowed to say or else I would be spanked and forced to eat soap.
I heard my mother yell from her bedroom, “Shut her up!”
“What do you want me to do?” Mike yelled back.

“I don’t give a shit! Just fucking spank her! Christ, I never get any quiet around here!” she answered.
I knew exactly what she was saying. I remember as clear as day, and I still remember the way I felt. Like my own mother didn’t care that I was in pain. She told her boyfriend to spank me for crying and she didn’t even think to care about why I was crying. It’s a very scary feeling to suddenly think that the one person, who you thought was your world, doesn’t really care, that they would rather hurt you than help you. It’s an ungodly feeling. I was horrified and just kept thinking that if she just came out for a minute she would see that I was in pain and needed her. But she never did.
Mike did as he was told, and as sure as my rear end reddened and a new pain began, I began to vomit uncontrollably. Mike jumped up, dropping me to the floor as I continued to vomit with an even newer pain at my hip and side from my landing.
“Jesus Christ! She’s puking, Donna!” he yelled to my mother in a tone drenched with irritation and disgust.
“Oh, for Christ’s sake! So clean it up! God! Don’t be such a fucking baby!” she replied without ever even getting out of bed.
Mike picked me up by my arms holding me out in front of him like I had the plague and ran to the bathroom. The vomiting continued so forcefully and frequently that I couldn’t catch my breath. I was so scared. I thought that was it. No more Kara. By the time he got the seat up and aimed me properly, it was over. I had nothing left. I dry heaved several times, but nothing else came up. The pain in my stomach had changed. It went from a horrible stabbing pain to a cramping kind of ache. It hurt to breath. I was so thankful to be able to breathe again but the fear had manifested into screams once I had my breath. Even that didn’t last long. Weakness took over and I couldn’t even move. I went limp and hit the floor, but not before hitting the toilet first. My teeth pierced my lower lip for the first time. (There were more times to come for my teeth to penetrate my poor helpless lower lip.)
I don’t actually remember the part that happened after that. All I know is what I was told from my mother some time later. Apparently, I was taken to the hospital where the doctors had to cover me in ice to reduce the fever that had been building the entire day. Influenza has been known to kill when left untreated. I was told I almost didn’t make it.

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

Just a taste

Here's a little something to give you an idea of my style of writing. Just an idea now, lets not get crazy. By all means, please feel free to comment and critique all you'd like. I'd love to hear from you. And please check back if you leave a comment as I will be commenting back. Thank you so much for your time. ;)

He arrived like clockwork every Sunday for the last 4 months.  It seemed like with each passing week his presence became new again, like the very first day he’d arrived. He carried several files under his arm as he strode through the caged gates in the corridor as if he were perfectly comfortable in his own skin no matter where he was. It was one of the things that got Alexis's blood boiling.

Alexis had been working in the evidence warehouse at the South Central Police Department in Los Angeles for nearly 3 years. This was the first time she could ever remember seeing a Detective as captivating as he was.

The crease at the corners of his mouth seemed strong and gave his smile an inviting presence. His dark hair short and trim left slightly longer and tussled on top allowed a single strand to grace his brow. His brow dark and looming shadowed his eyes of ebony leaving a mere glisten to catch the attention of his subjects.

Alexis bit her lower lip and adjusted herself in her seat becoming slightly uncomfortable with where her thoughts were going. She couldn’t help but wish she were one of his subjects. Every Sunday, he came in, smiled at her, showed his ID and walked on through without a single word.

It quickly became the highlight of Alexis’s evenings. She’d soon recognize the deep penetrating feeling inside her that made her cross her legs and sigh a trembling breath when the clock ticked closer and closer to his arrival.

She sat at her desk behind bullet proof glass and stared at the door. This would be the day. She could feel it deep in her bones. This would be the day that he could no longer resist her fiery red locks, china blue eyes and pouty lips. This would be the day he’d finally notice she’d forgotten to button her shirt up all the way. The day he’d notice her smile, her expression so sultry and inviting. She just knew it.

The clock struck 6pm and Alexis could barely be contained. Every muscle in her trim and curvy body vibrated with anticipation. She prayed to God she wouldn’t start to sweat and ruin everything.

Suddenly, that familiar metallic clang of the door pierced the silent warehouse making Alexis’s heart pound like a drum. There he was. As usual, he swept through the heavy metal door like it was nothing and walked gracefully down the corridor not missing a beat on the shiny slippery floors. His walk was confident, with long strides as if he knew exactly what he was going after and not to let anything in his way.

Alexis’s lip was getting sore as she continued to bite it nervously as a mental self chiding to smother the burning embers she kept within.  Her long legs crossed and tensed as she pulled her heeled feet tightly under her chair. She puffed up and rested both arms on her desk, one hand fiddling with a pencil to keep from grabbing the man and having him right there on her desk.

The closer he got the more nervous she became and suddenly she felt a fool for ever thinking he’d have her. A man like that was to be looked after, and heavily guarded by a woman just as intense and magnificent a specimen as he was. Not left alone to wonder down caged halls unattended like this.

Alexis suddenly became very aware of herself as a new found dampness suddenly soiled her undergarments. Even more alarming was the idea that she was wearing a fairly snug skirt which may also soon feel the dampness of her need.

She became so tense and self conscious that she hugged her legs tighter together which then made her whole body tense from the pressure of her embarrassment.  She didn’t even realize that as he got closer, her arms squeezed together under her chest forcing her breasts to bulge over her irresponsibly buttoned blouse.

He finally came to the glass, but this time, he just stood there for a moment staring at her. Alexis tried to smile but now all she could think about was how awful she must look grinning at him like a fool with a fat lip. As much as she wanted him at that very moment, she feared she may burst into flames.

His gaze was questioning and suspicious. He seemed to have a permanent grin that never faded and lips that seemed to speak without saying a word. Even as his questioning eyes watched her, his lips spoke volumes. His warm sunned skin was nearly irresistible.

Alexis stared right back at him wondering what he was going to do. As she was certain before that she’d have her way with him this very moment, now she was suddenly trembling at the thought, as if she would never have a chance with him.

She cleared her throat. “ID please?” she asked with a crack in her voice.

He paused staring at her for a moment, drinking her in. Then he slipped his hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out his wallet. He slowly opened his wallet never taking his eyes off the nervous red head and after a good long minute, he turned it and let her see his ID.

Alexis grinned and buzzed the gates allowing him in. The Detective slowly stepped through the gates and stopped next to her keeping those dark eyes on her in a piercing fashion.  Alexis swallowed hard as he was now closer to her than he’d ever stood before. She could almost feel the blood pumping through his veins. She could even hear every breath he took.

“Is there anything I can help you with?” Alexis finally squeaked the words out.

The dark Detective then slowly took a step toward her in a very dominant and yet subtle movement.  The way Alexis was perched in her seat called for her to turn towards him so her legs were no longer under the desk.

As if this were exactly what he expected to happen, he took another step closer placing his foot right between hers forcing her natural body response to spread her feet apart so as not to get her toes stepped on. Then he followed his step into her space forcing her head up to find his gaze.

The moment her eyes met his he took her by the hand and lifted her up pulling her into a deep, engaging, luxurious kiss that made her heart race and forced heat straight through her center like a burning hot poker of lust.

Her still shocked body was tense and pulled in tight as if she were well bound and needed to be cut free. The only release came when his strong forbidden arms wrapped tightly around her waist pushing her arms up out of the way as he was not about to let anything stand between their bodies. She pressed up against him wrapping her now loose and spaghetti like arms around his neck allowing her tongue deeper indulgence.

His strong hand suddenly seized her thigh bringing it up over his hip pulling her into him showing her what she’s been doing to him over the last four months. Her breath quickened with anticipation knowing she was about to receive him. For as long as she’s waited, she could stand no more.

Alexis gasped and whimpered as he pressed into her letting her feel his engorged stem before finally giving it to her. His kiss slipped down her neck with a hunger becoming more and more extreme. They’re bodies couldn’t get close enough, grasping and grabbing at each other like animals. They’re clothes were in the way.

The hot blooded Detective turned and carried Alexis propping her up on her desk to free his hand which quickly ripped her blouse free popping buttons onto the floor. Her breasts heaved with lust and prayed his mouth would find her.

His able hands groped her breasts then slid back behind her finding the clasp and releasing it suddenly freeing her firm breasts from their lace prison. He opened wide and took a breast fully into his mouth circling it with his tongue and suckling its tip stretching it outwards from her body before finally releasing it only to find its neglected partner and show it the same treatment.

Alexis’s raspy breath begged for more as her head fell back and her arms steadied her from behind on her desk top. Her bent over backward body awaited the rapture of his, taking her, gracing her, feeding her with ecstasy till her soul was full and the heavens would finally  take her.

One strong hand slid up under her skirt so skilled and adamant, he found her dampened panties and yanked them down letting them drop to her ankles becoming tangled in her high heels. He came back  to find her mouth again with his, kissing her deeply and passionately stealing her mouth while freeing himself from his belted trousers.

He spread her legs wide and moved in groaning in her mouth as he pulled her closer from around her waist and steadied himself for a full thrust….

“Excuse me….Excuse me? Are you okay?” a voice suddenly shocked Alexis back to her desk with pencil in hand. The Detective was standing awkwardly on the other side of the bullet proof glass still holding out his ID. “Are you going to let me in?” he asked staring at Alexis as if she might be ill.

“Oh…….yes. Sorry.” She replied nervously fumbling for the button.

The Detective gave her one last look over before walking on through and carrying on with his business.

“I can’t believe he spoke to me.” Alexis stuttered watching him disappear down the long dark isles in the warehouse.

Saturday, October 15, 2011

The Fight

Here is the first excerpt for Hostage. Its a paranormal romance/horror. Let me know what you think. And don't be shy about it. I'm a big girl, I can take it. ;)

Ivy grabbed her keys and was out the door. She drove around to bars and several clubs looking for gigs. Surprisingly, everyone was all booked except for one bar. It was The Quarter Mug, on State St. Just like Steve said.
The owner didn’t seem to care who Ivy was or what kind of music she played. That sent up red flags, momentarily. As Ivy sat at the bar with the owner standing across from her, a wind of nausea punched her in the gut. The man was of average height and size but there were things about him that set her nerves on end. Even in this cold stale bar the man’s pale white flesh was sweating. Those eyes, they were blood shot and seemed in vain. He seemed so stressed and desperate.
“Half an hour. Tonight at 10:30.” he said letting his eyes roll over Ivy carelessly. “$150.00.” He finished.
“I’ll be here.” Ivy told him, and then left. All the way back to her apartment Ivy had this illness in her mind. That place was going to make her angry tonight. Ivy already knew, but she ignored it because musicians are only financially sound when they have contracts.
Ivy was there ten minutes early. As she stood leaning against the wall at the entrance, Ivy already felt the irritation she knew was coming. There was a couple of inebriated business men, if you could call them that, on stage singing ‘Bye, Bye, Bye’ from NSYNC into a Karaoke machine.
Ivy put two of her irritated fingers to one of her irritated temples to rub away the thought of walking away from a $150.00 gig.
There were several large groups of heavy drinkers who had probably been here since they got out of work. They were all out of hand, grabbing waitresses anyway they could. Spewing profanities without reason and of course, there was always that one ass hole that sticks out above all the rest.

The owner caught Ivy’s attention from across the room. He motioned for her to claim the stage with a look that said, ‘Well, what the hell are you waiting for?’
Wonderful, Ivy thought to herself. “He’s going to leave it up to me to kick these two drunken idiots off the stage.” Ivy grumbled under her breath. She tucked her jacket into the crook of her arm and headed to the stage. She figured she’d better keep all her things close for a quicker exit.
Ivy climbed the steps to the stage and stood at the top until the clock read 10:30 exactly, then she approached the oblivious pop star wanna-be’s. Ivy held her body strong and prepared for battle. She walked right up to them with one eye brow cocked and waited for eye contact.
The two unsteady gentlemen wore suits that were ragged and missing pieces. One man was about 5'10" and wiry. The other was a couple inches shorter and even more inches rounder. They were sweaty and tired and looked fairly surprised at Ivy’s presence.
“Can you?” the chubby one said drunkenly. The other one cocked a grin that implied a quest for sex.
“Yes. You can get off my stage.” Ivy said gently.
Your stage?” the chubby one mocked. “I don’t see yer name on it.” he said stumbling a bit, and puckering his fat lips.
“You’re on my time, and my time is on this stage,” Ivy said calmly then added with a ferocious intensity, “So get the fuck off!” Her rude advance seemed to rattle the two men. They gave her dirty looks but backed down with a vengeful expression.
After assessing the crowd Ivy decided to make a few changes to her set. She pulled up a stool, set up the mic and began singing a set of rock songs she had come up with. Taking one look around this room it seemed metal would be a little too controversial. At least rock was more open-minded.
About 15 minutes in, Ivy could hear the two drunken pop stars hollering obscenities at her.
“Get off the stage!”
“No biker bitches allowed!” another one yelled.
It seemed the more they hollered and complained, the more the other groups of sloshed alcoholics wanted to chime in.
By the time her half an hour was up Ivy couldn’t wait to get out of there. The whole damn place was in an uproar. The last thing someone in the center of attention wants to be is booed by a whole bar full of people who can’t remember where they parked their own cars.
Ivy ignored the name calling and everything else on her way to the owner. Ivy got shoulder pitched twice and elbowed in the side once on her way to get the money. Even with all of her attitude, her hatred, and her instincts, Ivy still thought it the wiser to walk away until she no longer could.
“You knew this would happen.” Ivy said to the owner when she got over to him.
“Angry alcoholics drink more and remember less. Means money to me.” he replied handing her the money. “Better hurry, lady.” he added pointing to the crowd who seemed to be increasingly irritated.
Ivy got out of the bar fairly easily. She parked just around the corner, not far, but out of sight. First lesson in a life style like hers was, never leave your only means of transportation where any angry drunks could find it. As Ivy cleared the corner she very nearly collided with the two men she had kicked off the stage. It looked like they’d been waiting for something. Or someone.
“Well, well, well! Lookie what we got here.” the taller one said glaring at her nearly tripping over his own feet. Chubby chuckled menacingly.
A reflection of light at his side caught her eye. The chunky man was holding a small switch blade at his side. His raspy dark comb over was tussled and sweat beaded down to the tip of his nose.
Ivy’s heart was working over time. Somehow Ivy kind of saw all this coming so it wasn’t that big of a shock. Instead, she felt the anger, the madness from inside that drove her.
“Did you really think we’d just let you leave without saying, Bye, Bye?” the tall man said, hunching over with an exaggerated laugh.
As horrifying as she knew she could be, Ivy decided to let them see the beast they had just unleashed. With as evil a tone as Ivy could summon, she spoke clearly with snake eyes and clenched teeth, “Do you really think you’ll win?”
At that, the chubby man lunged at her with the knife. With all her anger hanging off of her flesh, Ivy grabbed the man’s arm diverting the blade away from her and then head butted him in the nose. Just as soon as his nose shot blood, the taller man jumped at Ivy’s back pulling her away from his buddy. His hold restrained her arms just long enough for the chubby one to muster up more energy. He repositioned the knife and took a sloppy shot at her kidneys, but Ivy was sober, therefore quicker and smarter. Ivy wiggled away fast enough so that the fat bastard missed her but wound up burying his blade into his buddy’s hip, the tall man howled in pain.
“You bitch!” the pudgy man yelled coming back at her with his knife over head, he swung it irrationally through the air, slicing and slashing over and over as he ran at Ivy. Her madness wouldn’t allow her to back down. His arm came down with lightning speed and caught Ivy’s forearm when she reached up in attempt to stop him. The pain was searing. With his other hand he grabbed a fistful of her hair. Ivy could hear him muttering drunken slurs she couldn’t understand under his breath. Before the blade could find her again, Ivy twisted her body and kneed him in the nuts. As a reflex, his arm shot down, viciously driving the knife into her abdomen, and then he dropped to the ground.
 The taller man, still howling and holding his hip, got up and quickly limped in Ivy’s direction. “I’ll fucking kill you, you cunt!” he screamed, spitting saliva all over himself.
With what little energy Ivy had left, she put as much muscle into her punch as she possibly could and landed it into the man’s left eye, knocking him clear off his feet.

The burn of torn flesh and muscle from two separate parts of her body seemed overwhelming. The cuts must have been deeper than Ivy thought because she was starting to get dizzy. Within seconds, Ivy’s knees buckled, but right when her body should have hit the ground, it didn’t. Ivy just felt two big strong arms around her and heard a voice say, “I’ve got you, now.”

Friday, October 14, 2011


Hello everyone. I am Kara Stefanowich. Please allow me to introduce you to my new professional writers blog!

Here you will find introductions to new stories, excerpts to novels, poetry and even some complete demographics of my work. I'll be asking questions, taking questions, accepting advise and opinions and with a little luck, I'll be able to speak to published authors and others in the writing/publishing business.

Now please keep in mind this blog is new and there will be a few 'tweaks' along the way. So stay tuned!

There is an excerpt of a Paranormal Romance/Horror coming soon!

Please pass this blog along if you know anyone who likes Horror, Paranormal Interests, Thrillers and some other serious mind twisting genres! I've got a little something for everyone! ;)

I hope to be reading your comments soon!