Tearing Petals Cover

A few days back I debuted a start of a short story I will be offering for free downloads. I created some cover art for it today so when I'm done and it's all edited pretty you will have a nice cover to see. So without further ado I give you the Cover for Tearing Petals.

I plan to have another installment posted for you within the next few days, so please, any feedback is welcome!

The Squirrel Bordello

I have squirrels in my attic. They scratch a lot and make a bunch of noises, thumps and bangs and EEEHHHH!! EEEHHH!! You know what they are doing when you hear those high pitched squeels.

I have this mental image of the squirrels all standing around on two feet. The lady squirrels wearing devastatingly sexy saloon girl dresses trimmed in red ribbons and black lace with sweeping feathers or bright red roses by their ears. The gentleman squirrels leaned against the beams smoking little squirrel pipes and wearing a dashing little top hat.

In my imagination I see the squirrel couples make eye contact before nodding to one another and meeting behind the dust bunny above my bedroom.

Yes the squirrel bordello is definitely a happening place.

A Sexy Mess

A woman is the most sexiest when she tries the least. A messy bun being held up by a pin, strands of your hair falling across your cheeks. A large shirt that is threadbare and displays your bra-less breasts at their best. You are wearing a pair of cutoffs that hug the cheeks of your behind and your feet are bare.

This photo is from SheKnows.

You are laying on your stomach across the couch, your pink feet folded behind you and your head is resting on your hand. You are deeply engrossed in a book, a book that is so hot you are idly biting your lip. Perhaps my book?

You don't notice the handsome man you married standing at the door watching as you twirl a lock of hair around your finger. You don't notice when he walks up behind and stairs down at your pert bottom.

You jump as you feel his finger trace up the back of your thigh, your heart begins to race and you turn your head to look at him. He grabs the little knot of hair at the top of your head. "No," he says deeply, you can hear the desire in his voice "Keep reading."

You stare at the pages of your book, but you are unable to concentrate, you feel his lips press against the back of your knee. You breathe catches in your throat, your thighs stiffen as he trails up smooth flesh until he reaches the edge of the cut offs. You make a noise of want as you feel his hand release your hair and so very gently smooth its way down your back.

You know how this story ends. You know what happens. Being a sexy mess always has it's advantages.

Tearing Petals

Hello world! I have been toying with a short story for a while in my brain and I've put fingers to keys so to speak and I have a few paragraphs I wanted to share. I may turn this into a blog serial for my readers. :) This is completely unedited so forgive any mistakes I've made. I do hope you enjoy!

Anna felt something tickle her face and smacked at the offending object as she slowly awoke. She pushed her face deeper into her pillow and slowly stretched her limbs out on the bed. The first few moments of waking were always the best. The warmth and the feel of her body languidly moving. Before her eyes even opened she smelled them. And fear shot straight through her body.

The cloying smell of roses permeated her room. She started to feel them sticking to her naked skin. Oh, God, no. James did not...the thought was cut off as her eyes popped open and saw exactly what her boyfriend of one year had done.

There were roses everywhere. Petals on the bed, on the floor, bouquets on every available surface. A huge heart shaped box was sitting on the bed beside her. Her eye twitched. Anna hated Valentine's Day. Maybe she had time to take the pills. She raced from the bed and looked in the mirror.

Too late. It had already started. Her long brown hair was tangled around her, mascara from yesterday had smeared down her cheek in what looked like a melted raccoon's eyes. And the blotches. One on her cheek. Another on her neck. Her shoulder sported a welt.

Having been allergic to roses all of her life she knew what lay in store for her. First came the blotches and welts. Then came the swelling. Her eyes, her lips. By the time this was over she was going to look like a raccoon version of Quasimodo. Her alarm went off. Music blaring about knowing he was trouble and Anna rolled her eyes.

She glared at the beautiful pink rose bouquet that stood between her and the mirror and reached over to push them off her dresser. She turned back to the bed and slowly made her way back to the poisonous bed, reached out and snatched the box. Chocolate. She could at least have that, right? Nope. She pulled the box open and there was the most gorgeous red, strapless dress she had ever seen. A dress she couldn't wear. Due to the welt she felt puffing up on her left ass cheek. And the one now spreading across her right breast. She sighed deeply and tried dodging the petals spread across the floor, stepping on them as she tip toed her way to the door. Anna stumbled from her room and sighed with relief. She opened her eyes and drew in a sharp breath.

Everywhere. He spared no expense. Left no stone unturned. Roses were everywhere. Their petals were scattered down her hall, what she could see of her living room was now a florist shop with every color, size and type of rose. Her house was going to kill her. Her twitching eyelid began to feel heavy.

It appeared swelling would come early. Happy f'ing Valentine's Day, she thought sarcastically.

-----

Two hours later, Anna was sitting in a tub of hot water trying not to scratch. She scrubbed the tub after she had found a bath drawn with the dreaded petals floating in the water. She cried as she her skin began to sting before she had even sat down in the hot, steamy bath.

Anna sat still with her knees drawn up to her chest and her arms wrapped around her legs. This is probably the worst case of the hives she had ever experienced. Anna remembered the last episode she had had, it had been many years ago. Her first week of college and her room mate had turned out to be a nightmare. “Gothic” was a fluffy way to describe Vivian. Vivian was very much her own person. The walls had been plastered with posters of pentagrams and other occultist things that Anna had never seen before that day. Images of sacrificial virgins and chicken blood popped into Anna's head and she had started to cry. Vivian just looked at her like she was a crazy person before walking over and hugging her. And that had been when Anna smelled it. Rose Water. Vivian, marshmallow that she turned out to be, washed all of her laundry in Rose Water, she even used it on her hair. Within 10 minutes Anna had been a blotchy mess.