sneak peeks
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Book Sneak Peaks, Short stories, and Poetry Categories:
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When you’re feminine, you’re soft. When you’re too nice; you get taken advantage of. When you’re too nice and feminine? It’s always your fault. Then there are the beautiful ones, who are too nice and too feminine. Loaded with mental instabilities. That was me. When I met you. I was nice to everyone, including you. I’ll admit, I liked your ‘I don’t give a fuck attitude.’ But what was it about me that drew you to me like a moth to a flame? Was it just my disposition? Childhood trauma impulsively making me want to people please. Affable and fair. Quick to apologize. You took advantage of me, the prey to your animal. It started with fights that escalated from ember to inferno in an instant. Soon, my days were not complete until I had cried. Emotionally exhausted and questioning my life. The fighter inside of me wanted to war, and I fought back. That’s when things got bad. I mean, I wasn’t supposed to talk back- I was supposed to obey. How dare I? That was when it became more than screaming. It was choking. Pushing. Being held down. My third eye finally opened, even after all my battles with alcohol. It still opened. Tired of tip toeing over shards of broken glass. The tiny cuts became infected, they pussed and festered. Day after day of rage, all aimed at me. Your rage was your weapon. Your defense mechanism to your authentic emotions because you were always taught to swallow your feelings. Feelings were weakness. Feelings were for women. The inferior gender. The trauma you suffered at the hands of your father and your alcoholic mother, all rolled into one crying tiny child buried inside of you. You never healed that child and birthed your very own trauma to nurture in the flesh With me. The sting of your words burned my ears each day until they bled. Faced shoved to the carpet, repeatedly being told I wasn’t shit. I was… nothing. A nobody. It didn’t take many break-ups to make ups for you to no longer treat me as a person, but an employee. If my job was not done correctly, I was punished. Night after night I begged you to be quiet. Don’t wake the baby. Please don’t yell. Just stop. On Christmas Eve, you shoved yourself down my throat until I had tears in my eyes while you drove us home. You finished and said thank you. While I cried in the truck for an hour. My ultimate bottom. It was lonely and dark. I would die in this trailer, next to a person I didn’t love. I hated you from that moment on. A hatred that brought me to the bottle every night while our baby boy slept next to our bed. The perfect little angel that he was. Let my Libra moon remind you; there are two sides to every story. And true to who I am; I have thought of this often. I could be the villain in your story; but hate only breeds hate. And I always chose peace. You took a love, and you crushed it. You crushed my self-confidence, my worthiness. My value. You tried to crush my soul, but you failed. Friends, family and therapists have congratulated me on my escape. Being told that I’m lucky. You will always paint me as the monster. Perhaps because you realized your mistake but aren’t man enough to admit them. Maybe if you made peace with that, you would make with within yourself. My monsters aren’t under my bed. I confront them daily, and we have become friendly. Yours will remain buried deep inside your wounded soul. Someday, my baby will understand why I did what I did. For self-preservation, sanity. Mental health and a bigger plan for me. Call it selfish if you want to. I’ve made my peace with that perspective. But I will tell you, He will ask questions someday, there’s enough of me inside his blood to know that. He will seek truth, perspective and guidance. Someday.
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12.
The next morning, after too much vodka and hard rock, I was pulled out of a hungover stupor by a loud knock on the door. I rubbed my eyes and squinted against the bright sun that beamed in through the back door. Mel’s naked body sprawled across the futon on the floor, and I had to push her off my shoulder just to get up. I wish she would just go, fun’s over now. I sighed and pulled an Ozzy shirt over my tangled hair. “EVICTON NOTICE: YOU HAVE 30 DAYS TO VACATE THE PREMISES” The piece of paper was half stuck under the door and was a bright red. “Damn, thirty days?” I cursed quietly, crumpling up the paper and immediately searching my brain for a plan. I popped the top off the bottle of vodka. I could get three shots out of what we left. I tossed it back and gritted my teeth. “Get up Mel, it’s time to go.” My voice sliced through the silent morning and Mel jolted her body, craning her neck towards the sound. “What time is it? I feel like I didn’t even sleep- what the fuck?” she groaned and rolled over, covering her head with a pillow. I strode over to the bed and yanked the pillow off of her, “Get out. Now.” “The fuck, dude?” her long hair electrified around her head like a halo. Her face scrunched up, looking for her clothes. “I have shit to do. Fun’s over.” I threw the pillow back down beside her and returned to the small kitchen. I poured myself another shot and pulled out my cellphone. “Hey sexy, can we link up today? I need a favor.” I sent a brief text to Alyssa, knowing full well she would respond fast. She liked me. A lot. Mel collected her things and stood at my door, fully dressed now, “Okay, well, see ya around. I guess.” The door shut behind her, and I shook my head. Some people just couldn’t take a hint. My phone dinged and I picked it up, smiling to myself. “Of course, pet. Lunch at Mona Lisa? Say 2?” Even Alyssa’s messages were full of class. “Sounds great.” I sent, hoping I had enough cab money to at least get me there. I needed money, and I needed it today. **** The restaurant wasn’t open until 4, but Alyssa knew the owner and he gladly opened early for a high-tipping patron. “You look rough today, long night out?” Alyssa smirked as she gently plucked the cloth napkin from the table and placed it in her lap. The corners of her mouth turned up; a shiny nude lipstick painted perfectly on her plump lips. She had a vintage beauty. Her profile was archaic, and her features sharp and pointed like a mouse. She smoothed her pencil skirt over her long legs, and the rose-colored silk blouse she wore struggled against her perky-fake tits. “You look gorgeous, as always.” I bit my lip, fingering the napkin in front of me on the place setting. Damn, I hope the server comes soon to take our drink orders. “Are you looking for some work?” Alyssa arched her perfectly shaped eyebrow, looking at me sideways. “No, actually. I was looking for more of a… loan.” I flashed my perfectly straight smile, with what I’d like to call a ‘girlish charm’. Alyssa squinted her eyes and let her gaze drift down my shirt. “A loan? I’m not sure I can do that.” She flicked her wrist in the air and an eager server came running. “Bring a bottle of champagne, please. Along with orange juice, we can serve ourselves.” She finished. “Yes, of course, Ms. Clarke.” The server bowed like a servant. How embarrassing. I raised my eyebrows and returned my eyes to Alyssa’s bulging neckline. “I think we can arrange something, but not without some… work. Up front.” She reached over and lay her hand on top of mine, stroking the middle of my palm with her index finger. Chills ran up my spine and I pictured her naked, her perfectly yoga-trained body atop a white cashmere blanket. I squeezed my legs together, adjusting the pulse that began between my thighs. “Okay, let’s do that.” I managed, sitting up straight and greedily grabbing the drink the server brought to the table. “How much are we talking, Dev?” she continued her stroke, and met my stare with her deep blue eyes. “Well, I need to move. I’m out of work and I don’t really have a way to make that happen.” I looked down at the table, feigning worry. “Interesting, where are you moving to? I may have a place for you to stay until we can get you sorted out with cash.” She smiled and gave me a wink, and I knew that wasn’t the only part of the deal. “That would be… amazing. I need to be in the city. Closer to Colorado Springs.” I squeezed her hand, hopeful she would give me more than just a place to stay. “And what’s in Colorado Springs?” she took her hand from mine and sat back in her chair. I absentmindedly scratched at my head, I looked at Alyssa and then back down at the table. “A new pet, I assume?” she took a long drink of her mimosa, her eyes not leaving mine. “Pet? Nah. I’m actually looking into working at a dispensary. Good discount.” I smirked, tearing my eyes from hers. I wasn’t even sure why I didn’t just tell her about Cyn. We weren’t a couple. Maybe because I want my cake and to eat it, too. I shook the thought from my head; I wasn’t hurting Alyssa; the bitch was filthy rich. “I have a house outside the city, it needs some cleaning and renovations. Perhaps if you like it, you could put some work into it?” our food arrived just as she asked me the question. Home improvement wasn’t exactly my thing… But it was a free place to stay. “Um, yeah. That sounds good.” I lied. I inhaled the food in front of me as if I hadn’t eaten in days. Or had a fierce hangover. “So glad you like the food. It really is a shame I haven’t had the chance to see you happily satiated in a long while.” Alyssa ran her tongue over her bottom lip and let her eyes travel down to mine. An older woman who knew what she wanted and felt completely comfortable in her own body; was a force. She was spinning her web, and I felt myself being pulled into it, willingly. I felt her perfectly pedicured foot run up my loose jeans, curling around my calf. “You didn’t think I would let you off that easily, did you?” her red lips curled into a smile. “Check please.” North Nevada Ave never seemed to disappoint when looking for a good time and a stiff drink.
“Life as a lawyer’s assistant was anything but glamorous, and I always entered the building feeling as if a huge weight was pressing into my chest. Leaving felt the exact opposite. It was exhilarating. The bar door was heavy, and as I stepped through; my Jimmy Choo heels caught on the riveted metal frame. Stumbling forward, my auburn ponytail whipped into my eyes, emitting a ‘oof’ from my lips . “Damn, girl! You are always a hot mess. Take my arm boo, I got you,” Marco said, his ‘s ’ as sharp as a tack. I laughed and pulled him into a quick hug. “Good thing you’re a hot little ticket,” Marcus continued, not missing a beat. “Hello, doll.” My voice trailed behind him as he led the way to the table he had already secured. “Another day in paradise?” He waggled his eyebrows and took a sip of his fruity drink, pursing his lips around the straws shaft. “Not everyone gets to lounge around in a robe all day and drink mimosas.” I mocked him, taking in his designer clothes and manicured hands. I mean, I could have if I wanted to, but I made my paycheck regardless of my new financial status. “Girl, please. It is difficult trying to find things to occupy yourself with when you’re a bona fide sugar baby.” He gestured emphatically with his hands. Marco leaned in and whispered, “Even better when your sugar daddy is a closet gay who lives with his wife.” He giggled and took a sip of his drink. We both stared at each other in silence and burst out laughing at the same time. “You are like a breath of fresh air, my friend.” I opened the drink menu and ordered a Jameson on the rocks. Marco’s eyes dart to the dark liquid in my glass, and then to me. I roll my eyes, “Don’t say it, please.” “I will not say anything… but that is not the drink of a straight white woman.” His snarky comment ended in a whisper. I rolled my eyes dramatically and took a sip anyway. The liquid burned the back of my throat and the warmth flushed the stress from the day down my throat to the ends of my fingertips. “How long has it been since you and Travis… ahem, did the dirty?” He leaned in close, eagerly awaiting the response to his daring question. “You never fail to shock me. I don’t know…” I stared into my glass, as if the answer swam inside. Since the honeymoon, that’s when. At that very moment, as if the universe required the answer, an athletic blonde around my age bounced past us and flung her arms around the man before her. Her cropped crew-top lifted slightly, exposing her back, the long curve disappearing into tightly fitting leggings. I found my eyes drawn down to the perfect roundness of her ass cheeks, taut with just the right amount of jiggle. I stared, licking my lips. “Cyn. Hello. Hyacinth!” Marco’s shriek broke my trance, and my eyes darted back down to my drink. My cheeks burned, and the moisture that suddenly wicked my panties made me swallow hard. Marco reached for my hand and squeezed. “Honey, I love men. I just don’t think we share that in common.” His eyes waited for mine to meet his. He already knows, but I’m not ready to admit anything out loud just yet. **** I walked alone down the dark street from the bar, turning onto the private road where my husband and I shared a home. Freshly married about four months ago on a beautiful summer day in Monument Valley Park . I grew up in Colorado, yet never had the courage to move away from my father. He needed me, so I sacrificed my dream of travelling and stayed so I could tend to him every day. Every excuse I could find, I would be at my Dad’s house, the home I grew up in. Anything to get away from Travis and his constantly wandering hands. You would think Travis and I would screw like rabbits, eager to taste one another, fill and swell with each other’s every desire. Well, he was. Me, not so much. Not only did he fail to get my knickers in a twist, the thought of having children turned my stomach. Nothing ruined our rare copulation more than his mention of ‘making a baby’. I stood in front of the grey-stucco two story. My feet felt as though they were cemented to the ground. I groaned but pulled myself towards the door. The foyer was quiet besides the echo of my heels on the stone floor. The air smelled of freshly washed laundry, with a faint hint of lavender. The housekeeper came every Monday and Friday, set up by Travis’ waspy mother, Tricia. “Every house needs a housekeeper, a wife can’t possibly live without one.” Tracy’s voice was high and condescending, a constant echo in my mind. I should be thankful, but I always took care of my father growing up, cooking and cleaning after school. I didn’t see it necessary, but considering this house was four thousand square feet, perhaps I was wrong. And probably unappreciative. “Hello my love.” Travis appeared in front of me, taking my bag and placing a kiss on my forehead. Cringe. Our massive kitchen was polished with chrome and black marble countertops, spotless as always. “What smells so delicious?” I asked, taking off my jacket and kicking off my heels. “Parmesan garlic shrimp, leeks with organic wild rice. Chef Travis at your service, mon amour.” Travis bowed, draping the kitchen towel he carried over his arm. My stomach rumbled, happy to have dinner ready and waiting for me. The perks of being married to a gourmet chef. He really was good to me, I knew that. Travis led me into the dining room, complete with two formal place settings and lit tapers. Pulling out the chair, he motioned for me to sit and took the jacket I haphazardly draped on the chair. Making his way back into the kitchen, he picked up the heels I kicked off in the middle of the kitchen ; he neatly placed them in the foyer and grabbed a bottle of chardonnay from the wine fridge. Finally seated, we eat in silence. “How was work?’’ Travis ventured. I wonder sometimes if he can sense my unrest and boredom. “Oh, the usual. Lawyers who act like I don’t exist unless they want a coffee or lunch.” I down the rest of my wineglass, feeling blissfully buzzed now. I eye the bottle and see it’s about half full. Yeah, that will be my companion for the evening. Tucked into bed with me next to some Oreos. “I don’t know why you won’t just quit, you don’t need to work. We are perfectly fine without your nine-to-five.” He chews his food loudly, shoveling rice into his mouth so fast that I make a face. I stand from the table with a plate in hand, ready to soak into a hot bath and call it a day. “Where are you going? You don’t want to sit and chat for longer?” His face is soft and childlike, blue eyes shining. Waiting for me, like he always has. “I’m tired, Trav. Maybe another night?” At this point, I am already walking to the kitchen sink. “Well, alright. There’s a great documentary on Netflix about a killer whale. I thought you would enjoy it.” He remained seated, his words disembodied and disregarded. I hate seafood and anything to do with fish. I preferred horror movies and rom-coms. “Goodnight,” I call, already halfway up the sprawling staircase, wine bottle in hand. Available Valentines Day 2021 Chasing Celeste
Coven of Crystals Book One Celeste has a secret…. Only a select few know, Those who she crosses the line alongside, Tell tales of her sorrow. Though this ignites her soul, It’s underlined by a lie . It is also her weakness, A sickness in her mind. Darkness and skin, Are the only things she can feel . The sighs, moans, and gasps, Allow her to see what’s real. You may think she’s depraved, Insatiable or irresistible, This bodacious rebel of a woman. But if you look deeper, You will find a broken soul. Catch her if you can, If only for a moment’s lust, For she will leave you behind, Nothing but a memory, Left in the dust . Secrets and death. The major themes of my life since the night Death himself came to visit me before my parents burned alive in my childhood home. Growing up without parents created a teen who hated following the rules. Everything I ever did, I did loud and without apology…after all, life is short. A Tarot reading catapulted me on a mission to find the witch who raised my mother. The only person I knew who could help me with a dark magic like this was also the woman my family warned me to stay away from. One simple stop in Vegas pulled me inside the web of The Alvarez family, a tight-knit crew with ‘special abilities’ that had problems of their own. Determined to continue to the bayou, Casper Alvarez must accompany me to keep an eye out…after all, I’ve signed a contract. What felt like nagging soon turned into warnings, but my curiosity peeked in and played in the shadows of the Alvarez family. Perhaps magic and curses should have been the least of my worries. |
AuthorSavvy Rose Archives
August 2024
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