Oh this post is making me think of a line from Daughtry’s Waiting on Superman title… if life were a movie, it wouldn’t end like this, left without a kiss…
And why am I thinking about that? I know, you were dying to ask. Today’s blogging topic. Your book is a movie—dream cast.
I have mixed feelings about this, mostly because while I can pick the hero, the supporting characters, the heroine.. it’s me. Sorry, but that’s just how it goes. So, I’m not sure if I can name someone else. Maybe… probably not. Ugh. See, my dilemma? Not simply what book to pick but who to play the roles? Sigh. Again, it’s like picking favourite characters. All of them have a soft spot. But…okay, I’ll take it in steps.
1—Pick a book. FORCE OF NATURE. It’s my upcoming book release. A full novel because I can’t ever write something short, lol. I can’t wait for this book. I love how it turned out.
Why? Because it’s an action/adventure type book that I think would crossover well. And Coen and Finley are two of my favourite characters…EVER. Seriously. I have mad love for Coen. MAD. FREAKING. LOVE. PEOPLE. He’s such a multi-layered guy. Not broken, but…damaged. Yet, strong, and caring. I could go on for days. I just adore him.
Here’s the blurb so you have a bit of a grasp of the book…
Love—an unparalleled force of nature.
Conservation Officer, Finley McKay, isn’t a stranger to criticism. Taking risks to protect delicate ecosystems doesn’t impress most people—including the doctor renting the cabin beside hers. The man’s arrogant, opinionated and far too sexy in his faded jeans and tees. She already knows he’s an ass—she just wished it mattered enough to make her keep her distance.
Dr. Coen Brady isn’t looking to fit in. Having recently retired from the military, he’s hoping to spend a few months hiding from the world in a small, out-of-the-way town in Northern Washington. But just his luck, he has the misfortune of running into his next-door neighbor. A girl who seems determined to get herself killed before his time there is up. She’s reckless, stubborn and slowly driving him insane.
When anger morphs into angry sex, Coen knows taking her to bed is a calculated risk—one he might regret when her investigation turns deadly, leaving Finley’s life hanging in the balance. Breaking a few rules to keep her in the game doesn’t seem that dangerous, until it becomes painfully obvious she won’t stop until justice is served—even if the price is her life.
2— The cast…
Dr. Coen Brady — Eoin Macken
Finley McKay— me…well, it is… but, I know. Fine. How about… Sandra Bullock (I love her)
Jonah Evans — Michael Fassbender (This look. Right there.)
Gibson Miller — Jason Statham (Need I say more. British. Sexy as Hell)
Special Agent Dan Wallace — Ron Perlman (he was Hell Boy…and he’s amazing)
Special Agent Ian Brewster — Nathan Fillion
And I want him here for a very special reason… and I freaking love him. LOVE. HIM.
Captain Rowan Price — Richard Armitage
There you have it. Go check out the other ladies…I think everyone is up this week.
Okay, so the great blog gods cleverly decided to have some posts where we simple drown the page with pictures or we write very few words. I secretly believe this is just a way to let us do a blog post without having to think. But hey, that’s just me. And any excuse NOT to have to write a huge amount of words is a good one in my books. Especially when these ‘flash fiction’ stories never end up being just five hundred words, lol. But then it’s not surprise that I am long winded. This introduction being case and point.
Anyway, today’s topic is…myself, my life, my family in five words or less.
FIVE FREAKING WORDS. THAT’S IT! This, of course, goes against all my training (ha, I’m a professional people. Don’t try this at home) but, in the spirit of adapting, I will play along—be nice in the sandbox and all that.
So here are my FIVE WORDS OR LESS…
I AM GROOT…
Seriously, I think that says it all. And if you haven’t seen Guardians of the Galaxy, you won’t get that reference, but…think about it. Didn’t he embody pretty much the kind of person you’d want to be. Strong. Protective. Innocent yet wise. Self-sacrificing and kind. Beautiful on the inside. Yes, that is my answer.
Though for those of you who want a more…conventional one… here you go. And this applies to all of the three above.
Now please check out the other ladies and see how they accomplish this mighty feat. Probably far more gracious than I.
Welcome to another addition of Musical Flash Fiction. A monthly piece in which a song is chosen and we use either the title, the theme or a line as a basis for…. something, lol. This week’s selection is Angels of Silences but Counting Crows. And can I just say—damn, this was a hard one. Seriously, I’m sitting here trying to decide what to do. I’d had a idea, then abandoned it, then decided to continue with my previous story the last time we did the music flash fiction.
I know…it seems to be a theme with me, but…I have this problem with getting attached to characters and damn, I’m not ready to let them go. So be forewarned…next month might be one more installation. Or there could be none or it could go on all year! That’s right, keep on guessing…
Either way, here’s my story. If you’d like to read the first instalment, you can go here. Or just jump right in. Oh and if you’d like to listen to the song first, check it out…
“Witness for cross-examination.”
Grace Brogan took a deep breath, the stern voice echoing through the courtroom. The judge nodded to the Defence Attorney, signalling his turn to question her. To try and pull her testimony apart—destroy the last bits of pride and humanity she had left. She glanced at the man sitting in the chair opposite her seat. Black suit, hair combed back. Only his tie showed any colour, the red pattern nearly identical to the one he’d worn when he’d killed her brother. He narrowed his gaze, his mouth lifting into an evil grin as he mouthed words regarding her fate.
She clenched her jaw. She’d come too far to back down—to recant. The ghosts that haunted her dreams still too real to have found redemption. She given up everything—whatever family she had left—to bring her father down. The untouchable Francis Brogan. Only she’d found a way to blindside him. And he’d need more than empty words to scare her.
His lawyer rose, papers rustling between his fingers, chair scraping across the floor. The sound prickled her skin, making her heart rate jump. A soft cough sounded off to her left, and she turned, Ronan’s gaze finding hers. He nodded, giving her a genuine smile as his hand rested on the hilt of his weapon. Her focus dropped to the handgun, the black holster blending in with his pants.
She forced herself to swallow, twisting to face the attorney who’d made his way into the centre of the small space in front of her. The man glanced from Ronan back to her, his expression fading into a leer. Just another person her father had bought. Blood money. The kind that never washed off. She hadn’t realized how easily friends and family could be owned. Paid for and delivered. That’d they’d fade like footprints in the rain. She looked around at the people gathered behind the railing—not many would stand beside her now. Hell. None.
He’d been there. First, as the man who’d vowed to keep her safe—then as a lover who’d helped her heal—was helping her. God knows she wasn’t anywhere close to being whole. Clean. But Ronan had given her the strength to try. To face the man she’d once loved and look him in the eyes as she replayed every gruesome detail. Every sin she’d committed in the name of family.
His attorney cleared his throat, nodding at the judge before turning his sallow eyes on her. Beady with more black than colour, he reminded her of a bug—disproportioned. He drew himself up, slowly making his way to where she sat next to the judge, nothing but a hunk of wood separating them.
He tilted his head. “Ms. Brogan. You’ve testified that your father, the defendant, Francis Brogan, is guilty of murdering both your mother and your brother. And that you witnessed such atrocities on the twelve of May, two thousand and fourteen. Is this correct?”
She steeled her determination, reminding herself he’d try to twist her words. Implicate her. Make it seem as if she’d turned against her family. Or maybe he’d claim she’d helped the son of a bitch slit her brother’s throat. Had bathed in his blood pooled on the floor. Either way, she needed to remain calm. Focused. Removed.
She squared her shoulders, imagining Ronan’s hand cupping one as she stared at the lawyer. “Yes.”
The man nodded, flipping through his notes. “Is it also true that you didn’t report these murders until three months later—on August twenty-third?”
Her nerves cut her breathing slightly, the air suddenly thick. “Yes.”
“I see. So you’re telling the court that you waited three months to report the brutal slaying of your family. That you did nothing for over ninety days.”
A shiver worked along her spine. Guilt. She leaned forward. “That’s correct.”
“And you claim that this…disparage of justice was due to threats by your father?”
“If you call having him choke me until I passed out a threat, then yes.”
The man’s eye twitched. “Yes. You’ve provided numerous photos of bruises and lacerations…none of which you can unequivocally prove were done by your father’s hand.”
He raised a brow, but she kept her mouth shut. She’d been warned that sometimes not answering was less damning than trying to voice her beliefs.
He stepped closer, resting his forearms on the wood partition between them. “I’m afraid we didn’t hear your answer, Ms. Brogan. Can you prove these injuries came from your father?”
“The photos are date stamped. There are servants from within the home that saw him. Though I’m sure my father’s bought them off by now—that’s if he didn’t outright kill them.”
“Objection, Your Honour. Conjecture.”
“Sustained. The witness will stick to the facts.”
She drew her chin high. “No. I don’t have a photo of him trying to strangle me or punching me across the room. But they were able to collect his DNA from beneath my fingernails after the last incident.”
“Yet no injuries were discovered on your father when police went to check.”
“That’s only because it was over a week later—”
“So your injuries could have been sustained in any number of fashion…such as struggling with your brother before you cut his throat?”
Bile burned the back of her tongue, the acrid taste threatening to empty her stomach on the polished oak surface. “My brother outweighed me by eighty pounds.”
“The facts, Ms. Brogan.”
She released a frustrated breath. “Yes. My injuries could have been sustained by other means…but they weren’t.”
The guy’s smile widened. “Isn’t it true, that this is all a coverup?”
“That it was you who bludgeoned your mother then stabbed your brother?”
“That you killed your family in order to rise in rank and get a larger share of your father’s inheritance?”
“That the reason you waited so long was because you were plotting to kill your father, as well, but had to flee when he discovered your treachery? That he’s the innocent in all of this and you struck a deal with the Marshal Service in order to protect your own guilt?”
Images flashed in her head, her brother’s lifeless eyes lingering in her mind. She should have stood up to the man that night. Had the courage to die with the rest of her family. Instead, she’d kept her mouth shut. Gathered evidence then escaped. Ronan shuffled closer, the soft sound grounding her.
Grace steadied herself, knowing she’d have to say the words out loud before she could vanquish them. “Oh, I’m guilty. Of not having the guts to strike out that night. Of allowing my fear to rule me. Of waiting until I had enough proof to put his ass away for life before I left because I knew nothing short of complete annihilation would be enough to stop him. Nothing short of offering my soul as tribute would see justice served.” She glared at her father. “I’m not afraid of you. Not anymore.”
“Enough. The witness is reminded, again, to stick to the facts.”
She nodded. “Yes, Your Honour.” She turned back to the man. “No. I didn’t kill my family and I didn’t plot to kill my father. Though you’re right about why I left. He’d discovered I’d been taping meetings, phone calls—and I knew he’d kill me once he caught me.”
The lawyer raised a brow, but paced across the room, spinning when he reached the juror’s box. “Tell me, Ms. Brogan. Do you know a U.S. Marshal Ronan Foster?”
Her stomach clenched. God, they were going to do it. Drag Ronan through the same bloody hell she was in. “Yes.”
“And what is your relationship to Marshal Foster?”
“He’s the Marshal assigned to me for protection.” She glanced at him out of her peripheral vision, hoping he wouldn’t be upset when she surprised them all with simply telling the truth. “He’s also my lover.”
A gasp rose among the crowd, more than a few gazes straying toward Ronan.
Her father’s lawyer tapped his chin. “I see. And as the marshal’s lover, is it safe to say you’d do anything to protect him?”
“That’s a fair assumption.”
She stilled the sudden trembling in her hands. “He hasn’t asked, and I haven’t acted.”
“I asked if you’d be willing to kill for him.”
“And I can’t answer that as the situation hasn’t arisen. Though I know he’d never ask.”
Beth Granger stood, the militant DA palming the table. “Objection, Your Honour. Relevance?”
The judge sighed. “Do you have a point, Counsellor?”
Her competition nodded. “It’s well known that Marshal Foster’s partner was killed in the line of duty shortly before he took this case. It’s also well known that said partner had ties to the Brogan family business. Marshal Foster was implicated in his partner’s death, and only cleared a few days before being assigned to Ms. Brogan when some mysterious photos were discovered clearing him. Photos taken using the same camera as that of the witness during the time she was allegedly being abused and threatened by her father.” He glared at Grace. “Seeing as she’s admitted to have a sexual relationship with him…”
“Objection.” Beth sighed. “Unless the defence has evidence proving that either Marshal Foster killed his partner or Grace Brogan did, I don’t see how any of this pertains to the case.”
“The evidence suggests that Ms. Brogan was the one who provided the DA with the photos that cleared him. That they’re working together to frame my client and claim his fortune.”
The judge glanced at her. “The witness will answer the question.”
Grace sighed. “Yes. I took the photos that eventually cleared Marshal Foster, though I didn’t know it was him until after he’d been assigned to my case. And for the record, I haven’t taken a dime of my father’s blood money.”
Her father’s attorney laughed. “So we’re just supposed to believe you? After all this? Makes one wonder what else you’re hiding.”
She looked at Ronan, smiling at the pride staring back at her. She turned, focusing on her father as she chuckled. “Is this the best you have, daddy? You think by dragging Ronan’s name through the mud you can discredit him? Discredit me? Well, I hope your money bought you more than that because it’s not enough. Do you remember what you used to call me? An angel of silence. That’s what you wanted me to be. I don’t think I really understood what that was…until now. And I’m here to say—my silence is over. I’m not going to back down and no amount of questioning will change the facts—I win. Even if I only live long enough to see you standing behind bars. I win.”
Okay… that didn’t go anywhere along the lines that I had envisioned. But for better or worse, that’s my flash of fiction. Please check out the other ladies… you won’t be disappointed.
We all knew this day would come… the topic that those of us who are single dread, lol. Okay, it’s probably just me. And I’ll own that I probably just have issues…ISSUES PEOPLE. And it all stems around this one question—DO I BELIEVE IN LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT, SOUL MATES AND DESTINY?
Such a loaded question. Politically speaking, I have to say yes…after all, it’s my livelihood. Characters in books often don’t have the luxury of ‘time’. You only have a finite number of pages to create their romance, and readers really don’t want to waste chapters on all the awkward beginnings…or middle sections. Authors need to hit the highlights of a couple’s journey. Not endless dates at the café drinking coffee. This means entire books are built around the concept of falling in love quickly. And completely.
Realistically…it’s an odd concept. Mostly because we, as people, change so much as we grow. Finding that one person who ‘completes’ us—and will for the rest of our lives—is far more challenging than it sounds. And knowing that person is right for you with nothing more than a single meeting?
You can see the issue. It’s almost a no-win situation. So, I’ll have to fall back onto my own personal feelings… dangerous territory people. Though it sort of is the purpose of the blog. Hey, this is a scary topic…I need latitude here.
My personal answer is… YES. I do. Though I have yet to succeed in this area, I remain a hopeful romantic. I have a few amazing friends that I knew would be life-long buddies from the first moment I met them. I remain optimistic that I might, yet, find someone who makes you feel this way romantically. Or maybe it’s just my determination not to give up, lol.
Though I do think that even soul mates, or couples that fall fast and hard have to work to make love last. Because the story doesn’t end once they fall in love. There’s still a lifetime of living left. And that’s what puts any love affair to the test.
But at the end of the day…I think everyone wants to believe in the concept, if for no other reason than to maintain faith. And I need a mountain’s worth of faith.
And while you’re at it, check out this awesome song (where I borrowed the title from) that my oldest has been listening to. Oh, young love…it also gives me hope, even if I am a bit jealous.
Last month, our favourite things were superheroes. And I had a comment or two that I seem to like heroes on the darker side of the spectrum, lol. So obviously I’ll have fun with this month’s topic: Favourite things—VILLAINS.
It’s funny, because I actually asked if I could include a couple of these characters for the superhero post—only to be gently reminded that they weren’t really…heroes, lol. But I see them as redeemable, or just plain awesome. So without any further ado… here are my favourite villains.
Please, I can’t imagine this guy won’t be on everyone’s list. He’s the perfect villain. Tormented, somewhat betrayed. I think he has a good heart, but just can’t find it. So, for now, he’s on the wrong side of the law, and I love it. The hair… god, his hair. And his face. Who am I kidding. I pretty much love everything about Tom Hiddleston.
Again, you all knew he’d be on here. Because hello…SUPERNATURAL. And who doesn’t love to hate and love Crowley. He’ll stab you in the back, steal your soul and make you want to pull your hair out. But damn, you can’t help but admire the King of Hell (and who I’d love to meet at any freaking crossroad).
Poor Eric. He didn’t start off bad, but…what’s a mutant to do when humans keep on pushing your buttons. And I like Eric in both incarnations. As Ian McClellan and Michael Fassbender. His power…and in his mind, he’s not evil. He’s merely protecting his kind. He also crosses the line. He saves some, while destroying others. Definitely a fave villain. And can I just say… Michael Fassbender… the guy is so freaking hot. Seriously.
Okay, so he might have changed sides at the end of Angel, but he is still a villain in my opinion. And that hair. The poor guy had to bleach it like every week, lol.
Okay. So maybe not all of the movie do this guy justice, but…you can’t help but admire him. He kicks ass. He’s cloaked and damn, that clicking noise he makes. My boys can imitate it and it’s creepy as hell. Definitely a force to be reckoned with. And I can’t be the only one who wanted him to win— more than once, lol.
Benedict Cumberbatch. Khan. Do I need to say anything else. No, No I do not.
And that’s my list. Please hop on over to the other ladies and see who tops their favourite villains.
But despair not, you don’t have to have read that first short bit. Each one will be fine if read all by its lonesome. So, without further ado… here is part 2…
“What if she doesn’t think it’s romantic?” Graeme James stared at his buddy, Ryan’s, reflection in the mirror as Graeme ran his fingers through his wet hair. Fuck, he should have gotten a damn haircut. Instead, the strands fell in a tousled mess about his head, slightly longer than he usually wore.
Ryan scrubbed his hands down his face, shaking his head. “For the last time—Bailey’s going to think you’re a god damn wizard.”
“Or…she’s going to think I’m a perverted son of a bitch who can’t think past getting in her pants.”
“Graeme. Bro. Everyone knows that’s your end game. It’s everyone’s fucking end game. And it’s not like this is your first date. You two have been going out, what…three times a week…for nearly a month.” He leaned against the wall. “Any other guy would have made a move by now.”
“Why does not trying to take her to bed make me odd?”
“It doesn’t. It makes you a nice, respectable guy. Which is why she won’t see you as a perverted son of a bitch for going somewhere romantic. Trust me. Taking her to the cottage…it’s brilliant.”
Graeme let his head fall forward, staring at the drops of water slowly sliding down the sink. He couldn’t remember feeling this off-kilter around a girl before. The way his heart sped up, his pulse echoing inside his head. Or how his stomach got all fluttery, and he couldn’t tell whether he was excited or about to empty his stomach. Christ, kissing her, touching her—he’d never worried before whether he’d measure up.
Ryan’s hand landed on his shoulder. “Stop over-thinking this. I know you’re crazy about her.” He laughed. “Everyone knows you’re crazy about her. Take her to the cottage. Have a couple of days alone together, and if you end up in bed…” He shrugged.
“I just don’t want to fuck this up.” He glanced up at Ryan’s snort. “You know what I mean, jackass. Bailey…she’s special.”
Graeme flipped off his friend when the man turned, enthusiastically air-humping the wall. He headed out of the washroom, grabbed his keys, bag and jacket off the chair by the door then ventured outside. While Ryan was without question his best friend, the man didn’t know how to be serious. Ever. Of course, if it hadn’t been for him, and that stupid English Lit assignment they’d bet on, Graeme never would have asked Bailey out.
He smiled, going over every detail of the weekend as he drove to the apartment she shared with her twin brother—an annoying fact that made getting intimate far more complicated. There was just something unnerving about knowing her sibling was only a wall away. That and the fact Graeme didn’t want to rush things. Didn’t want her to think sex was the only reason he’d asked her out.
He pulled up to the curb, texting her he was outside. A swirl of snow breezed across the windshield, the glare of the setting sun glinting off the fractal ice patterns on the glass. A shiver of excitement wove along his spine, leaving a rash of goose bumps across his skin. Who was he kidding? He hadn’t taken things slow because he was worried she’d peg him as a player—he’d taken them slow because he liked her. And he had a bad feeling that once they became lovers, he’d never be able to go back to being the guy he was before. That she’d change him without even trying. Hell, he’d change regardless.
A tap on the passenger window startled him from his thoughts, and he glanced over, smiling as Bailey waved at him. He jumped out, grabbing her bag before stowing in the trunk beside his. She was already seated when he slid behind the wheel again, pulling into the evening traffic.
Green eyes watched him, her thick auburn hair hanging in gentle waves around her face. The woman was far too stunning, and his heart skipped a beat when her mouth curved into a radiant smile.
She stared out the window for a moment then settled her gaze on him again. “So…you going to tell me where we’re going, or is it still a big secret?”
He grinned at the slight annoyance in her voice. She’d told him more than once she wasn’t a fan of surprises, which made this all the sweeter.
He shrugged. “Somewhere…secluded.”
Her eyebrow kicked up. “Is this your subtle way of telling me my brother is a buzzkill?”
“Let’s just say hearing him hump the flavour of the week through your bedroom wall isn’t exactly my idea of a romantic atmosphere. Besides, it’s been a tough month—stress with school, part-time jobs. I thought we could both use a weekend without cell phones and annoying roommates.”
“You didn’t tell me not to bring my phone.”
“Didn’t have to. Service is going to be spotty at best.” He glanced over at her. “Worried?”
She laughed in a way that warmed the interior of the car. “Please. My dad’s a detective. There’s no way the man hasn’t already done a thorough background check on you.” She twisted in her seat. “Seeing as he hasn’t had you arrested or placed an armed guard by my side suggests you’re trustworthy. Besides, I’m a pretty good judge of character.”
“Is that so? And after a month of dating, what does your spider sense tell you about me?”
She shuffled closer, placing a hand on his thigh as she brushed her fingers slowly up and down the denim, skirting dangerously close to where his damn cock pushed against the fabric. “That you’re not like other guys I’ve met. Dated. You’re…special.”
He forced himself to swallow past the lump in his throat, simply nodding as he turned onto the highway. He did his best to ignore the searing heat of her fingers against his leg, the rhythmic movement slowly driving him mad. Desire burned just beneath his skin, threatening to unhinge his control.
Bailey seemed oblivious to her affect on him, carrying on idle conversation as they headed north, leaving the city behind them. Dark mauves lined the horizon, a gathering of clouds reflecting various tones of red. Her voice echoed around him, the lilting quality to it holding him captive. It wasn’t until he pulled off the highway an hour later that she bothered to look outside the vehicle. Snow-ladden evergreens and barren branches filled the landscape, the first twinkling stars shining in the night sky.
She arched a brow as he turned onto an old gravel road, bouncing the car up a long laneway. A warm glow beckoned in front of them, the light from the old cottage gleaming in the darkness. He stopped a couple of hundred yards off where the road turned into snowy grass, a lazy river sparkling in the rising moonlight.
Bailey stared at the house, mouth gaped open, eyes widened. She glanced over at him several times before she shook her head, looking at him as if he’d given her something far more precious. “This is my surprise? Our secluded getaway?”
“On our second date, you told me that if you could live anywhere, it’d be in a rustic English cottage somewhere on the moors. I can’t quite manage a trip to England, but I thought maybe this would give you a taste of that dream.”
Her chin quivered before she leaned over, slanting her mouth over hers. Warm, sweet woman filled his senses as her tongue danced along his, her fingers cupping his jaw. He hummed against her lips, threading his hand through her hair, tilting her head back to deepen the kiss. Her eyelids fluttered when he finally released her, nothing but brilliant green filling his field of vision. Raspy breath raked across his face, her chest heaving against his.
He smiled. “Does that mean you like it?”
“Like it?” She swallowed thickly. “Graeme…this…you…” She thumbed his cheek. “Is this your parents’ place?”
“Na. It belongs to my annoying roommate. His grandparents left it to him a couple of years ago. He comes here every now and then to recharge. He let me borrow it for the weekend.”
“Ryan? Ryan Baxter? The same Ryan who had a bet to see how many Cheerios he could stuff in his mouth at once, Ryan?”
“He’s…unique.” Graeme drew his fingers down through her hair. “We came up yesterday. Fully stocked it. All it needs now is you.”
“Us.” She glanced at the cottage, a devilish smile capturing her lips. “Is there running water? Electricity?”
“Yes, and yes. A generator, but sometimes it breaks down. But there’s a fireplace and more candles than inside that new age store. I just hope you don’t think that I brought you here simply to …” He gestured at her.
“What? Get laid?” She laughed again, twisting away as she grabbed the handle. “No. I have no doubt that you never assumed that.” She opened the door, stepping into the growing darkness before sticking her head back in. “But for the record, it’s a toss up as to whether we make it inside, or I take advantage of you in the front seat of your car.” She shivered as a gust of wind sprinkled snow across her face. “Definitely inside. Last one in has to make the fire—naked.”
She took off, her feet kicking up tiny snowballs as she dashed along the winding path, heading for the front door. Graeme jumped out, taking a moment to watch the simple beauty of her before closing the door and sprinting after her. He just wasn’t sure if he wanted to catch her or not.
And that, is where I’ll end this. Mostly because, damn, it’s becoming a damn novel, lol. Please check out the other ladies and see what the picture inspired with them. Until next month…