Those things that go bump

You can work around me, right Mom? Cause I’m comfy.


I’ve been plagued by things that go bump in the night, the morning and any other time I’d like to sleep it seems of late.  Which, of course, means my muse is groggy and in poor form and I’m lucky if I can compose a sentence.  Last night, however, I managed a fair night of sleep and woke feeling much closer to normal!

Hopefully this translates into a very productive day.

I thought I’d post a teaser of the novel I’ve just started.  The working title is ‘The Last Feather‘ and the idea for this came to me in the fall of 2010.  It intimidated me, though, so I just tucked it into the back of my head and worked on other things.  The muse didn’t forget, however, so every so often my mind would work on it, reminding me how interesting it sounded and how much fun it would be.  You see, the scope of the novel is going to span some thousand years of history and require a significant amount of research. Over the last month though I’ve talked to a couple of other writers about it, stoking both my own interest and others’ in it.  I seem to be ready to tackle it, so I started working on it last week and have it up to around four thousand words.  this is going to be a huge book.  I can’t imagine it being anything short of 80K.

Anywho, here you go…a little bit from the first chapter of The Last Feather.

Such a sunchild, I thought, wondering if she allowed herself to feel the heat of my gaze. I dismissed the thoughts when she began to rock, letting a chuckle ripple forth. Oh, but I must admit, this century’s children are so unabashed about loving. Laia reached for me and I met her hand with mine, threading our fingers together. When she tried to touch her clit I curled up and caught her wrist, pinning it into the hollow of her back. “Oh no,” I said, rocking my hips under her, urging her on, “fuck me, come on me.”

The small, dark woman tipped her head back, a wanton moan trickling out from her full, lush lips. I pressed my teeth to the swell of her breast as she ground against my stomach. My hand flattened across her lower back when Laia tugged her hand from my grip to twist it up in my hair. A steady trickle of moisture dripped down into my curls and I growled into her flesh.

“Oh god,” she gasped, twisting her hips down onto me, “please, Brigid, oh, fuck, please.” My teeth closed around her nipple, sharp and hard. I curled my hand down under her full bottom, teasing closer and closer to her cleft as I loosed her other hand. Laia’s arms wrapped around my shoulders, her wrists crossing behind my head, fingers sinking into my hair. I felt her pushing closer to her release, nearer to the oblivion of pleasure, reaching and stretching. A whine crept into her moans as my fingers teased the inside of her thighs and her grip on me tightened in desperation.

I waited. Oh yes, I waited. A thousand years will teach you plenty about how cruel you can be to a lover to get them just that much closer to that perfect release. I waited, grinding my smooth, soft belly against her aching, dripping cunt until one, salty, tangy tear dropped onto my cheek. Her chest hitched, muscles tensed and I flexed.

Laia cried out as I flipped her onto her back. My fingers dug into the beautiful swells of her hips and pushed, spreading her wide. Her hands, still so tangled in my hair, jerked, pulling my mouth to her and I kissed her, penetrating her mouth with soft teasing flicks of my tongue. Laia’s eyes rolled up and I could feel the beginning shudders of her release before my fingers slipped into her.

“Look at me,” I whispered, my voice gone soft and musical. Her eyelids dropped and I pressed deeper, curling my fingers hard into that waiting knot of nerves. Her head jerked up and I caught her gaze with mine, holding it as I stoked the fire deep within her. Over and over I stroked, long and slow, my thumb grazing her clit, a rhythm old and primal. Her lips shaped words but nothing emerged and I watched as for a moment, just a sliver of a second, in the space between one heartbeat and the next, flames kindled in the depths of her eyes.

Then her blood rushed, she arched, her mouth stretched, and Laia came. I held on as she quaked, her cunt clenching and flooding around my fingers, her thighs clamped tight about my hand, her fists gripped so tight in my hair I felt strands tear from my scalp. On and on it went, an avalanche thundering, until she sagged weakly against me, breathless and panting.

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