Pain, Life and Work

So today I wanted to get to work.  I wanted to dive right back in there and make myself happy by accomplishing things.  A little writing, a little blogging (oh hey, will ya look at that? Here’s a blog!), little time on my Facebook and trying to figure out what a website should have – content, photos, etc., maybe do some work on filling out my Goodreads profile some more.

Instead I’m sitting in a pain puddle.

Actually electricity hitting water but hey, who wants to be accurate. 😉 Photo courtesy of

The motorcycle show was awesome and I’d do it again.  Just… differently.  Use my cane, sit more, something. I have been left unable to walk without searing pain in my legs and feet.  Man oh man does it ever blow chunks.  So I’m taking acetaminophen with codeine and ibuprofen to try and cope. 

Unfortunately, with the kids back in school my weekdays start out busy, which means I’ve over done it already.  

I am going to try to work though.  We’re still here in HW3:  

Anna tapped a finger on the page.  “We need to find these people.  And I need Elsie.  Jules, you start with the newest one.  Brock, the one before it.  Doug, take this one,” she handed them out as she spoke.  “Marcus, this one,” she gave him the next oldest, “and I’ll take the remaining.  First though, I need to get Elsie.”  She leaned forward and set the last two books on the low coffee table in front of her then stood up.  “I’ll go to the bedroom.”

A small, grunted chorus of agreement from Wolves already deep into ancient journals reached her ears just as she closed the bedroom door.  She smiled and crossed to the bed and sat down lotus style.  Anna closed her eyes as she rested her hands palm up on her knees with the fingers relaxed.  Three deep breaths later and Anna was deep into a practiced meditation.

Her astral self drifted from her body and she reached for Elsie.  Anna popped up beside Elsie and Alasdair and wavered a little bit before firming up.  “Phew!” she said, “It’s warm in here.”  She looked around the ethereal home they’d fashioned in the valley of the caldera and smiled.  “I like it though.”

Alasdair jumped about a mile.  “Damn ye!  Don’t you ever knock?”

Anna smiled sunnily.  “Hard to knock on smoke walls, MacIain.”

The Laird growled then chuckled.  “What can we do for ye, lassie?”

“Marcus found some journals.  We need Elsie to help us wade through them.”

Elsie stood.  “As you like, young Miss.”  She kissed her husband and popped into Anna’s hotel bedroom as the Hybrid opened her eyes.

“Thank you, Elsie.”  Anna unfolded herself from the bed and went back out to the sitting room, the ghost following closely.  “We’re back,” Anna announced.

“Welcome back, pretty ghost.”  Marcus smiled at Elsie.

“Ah ye young bucks all think with that monster between your legs, doncha?”  Elsie grinned at him.

“Only when one so lovely as you is about.”  Marcus leered at her.

Anna chuckled as the others groaned.  “Marcus you flatterer, go back to your reading.”  She sat down and opened the journal very carefully.

“What do you need help with, Missy?”

“Deciphering this journal for starters.  I took a quick peek before I went to you and I can’t read it to save my life.”  Anna opened it to reveal a page covered in old words scrawled in smudged ink.  It was barely legible, let alone anything Anna could understand.

Even Elsie squinted at it before reading out loud. 

I know what I want to put there… well, knew.  I just have to find it again.  


Ah here it is:

What in me is dark
Illumine, what is low raise and support;
That to the highth of this great Argument
I may assert th’ Eternal Providence,
And justifie the wayes of God to men.
~Book 1, Paradise Lost, John Milton

That will be the start of the very first journal and then Elsie will simply translate the Gaelic, without me showing what the Gaelic text is in the first place.  I can’t imagine trying to figure that all out!  Gods that would be hard.  I’d have to learn the entire language, which would be fascinating but something I don’t have time for right now.  Getting a tutor to learn would be relatively simple I think, given my friends.  But no, I don’t have time.  *gives her head a shake*

My brain is now running on almost all cylinders so we shall see what’s in that first journal.  

Have a great day folks!

Crawling Forward

An hour or so later he came upon a crevice that almost looked natural.  Almost.  It was triangular in shape, the narrowest peak reaching about his shoulder.  The base appeared to be just over three feet wide and didn’t stay that wide much past two and a half feet up.  Marcus got down on his hands and knees and peered into it.  Just as he thought, it wasn’t all natural.  The opening stayed the same for a few feet then appeared to widen.  He stuck his head inside and tried to get his shoulders inside, intending to crawl ahead.  A jutting rock he didn’t see stabbed him in the shoulder.

“Ouch, sonofabitch!” He sat back on his heels and rubbed his shoulder.  Then he pulled his phone out and checked the GPS.  He texted Doug, “Going in stone, coordinates 56° 43′ 26.84″ N, 5° 9′ 7.03″ W, gimme 2hrs.”

When he got back, “K, be careful, won’t tell Anna” he took a look around then shucked his clothes and tied them into his shirt, leaving a knot big enough to pick up with his teeth.  Then he shifted, picked up the bundle of clothing and worked his way into the tunnel.  He was positive he left some fur and flesh on the edge of the entrance but it got wider and higher just a few feet in, as he expected.  It wound around until he could no longer seem much daylight and he slowed, using his nose more than his eyes. 

Soon the crevice opened up more and he was able to pad along without the stone walls brushing against his body.  The daylight made a weak reappearance and Marcus was sure that he had made the shift and walk for nothing.  In the next moment the crevice opened into a round, craggy chamber.  Marcus’s mouth fell open in shock and his clothes fell to the floor.  He hardly noticed.  He slowly walked around the chamber, paws barely making more than a whisper of sound on the stone.  His nostrils were soaking up everything scent – stone, moss and guano among other things – and his eyes were peering carefully into the dark recesses cut into the walls. 

Then he sneezed and his belly rumbled at the same time.  He backed up two steps, thoroughly confused.  He sniffed around in a hollow set into the wall about two feet off the ground.  He smelled some ancient animal something that made his belly rumble again, kerosene and sulfur.  As his stomach heaved again he decided to get less sensitive and shifted back to human.  Immediately, his stomach settled down, he scrubbed his nose and shivered.  He thought about his clothes but knew he’d have to change back.   

Marcus peered into the dark recess as his brain tried to figure out what that smell was and why it was familiar while his eyes and nose searched out the source.  It was shoved way back into the hollow and teased him by being just out of reach.  His fingertips just barely brushed against something smooth, he could feel a slight ridge like a rope or something.  A growl echoed through the chamber and it took him a moment to realize it was him. 

Silencing the growl, Marcus pulled his arm out, scraping it on the rocks, as he peered into the crevice and wondered if he could just shift his eyes.  Or maybe his just face.  He gave it up after several frustrating attempts and looked around the chamber.  He could still smell the kerosene so he sniffed it out.  He found a lantern hidden in a deep, shelf-like indent in one of the walls and pulled it out.  A long box of matches fell out.  Matches in a Tupperware container, which gave him great pause, it was then that he realized the kerosene smelled relatively fresh too.  Old kerosene had a bacterial smell, one he could smell in other places in the chamber.

After lighting the lantern, Marcus went back and tried to focus the beam onto the thing shoved deep into the crack in the chamber wall.  Finally he could see it.  It appeared to be a leather wrapped bundle tied with rope.  There was a loose spot in the rope, if he could just hook his fingers in it, he could pull it out.  He shoved his arm in to the shoulder, scraping the tender wounds on the wall again and losing more skin in the process, and stretched his fingers way out.  He willed himself to reach it, forcing his ligaments and tendons to stretch; he willed his nails to lengthen, knowing it wasn’t possible.  To his shock he felt the tingling that preceded shifting in his fingertips.  He felt his hand begin to shift; joints popped and began to reform, fingernails thickened and grew. 

So great was his shock that Marcus had the barest presence of mind to hook the package in one claw and yank his arm out.  He stared at it in surprise.  The hand was somewhere between a hand and a paw and reminded him of the lycans in Underworld when they were the wolf-man creatures and fur climbed halfway up his arm.  He was so impressed he almost forgot about the package but as soon as he stopped thinking about the need for a shift it began to recede.

Marcus took in the sight of the worn, scraped animal hide held in place by relatively new rope and frowned before pulling his phone out of the bundle of clothing.  He called up Anna’s number and wrote a text, Meet at hotel have something, and wandered around the cave, arm stretched out over his head, thumb on the send button, seeking even one bar of signal.  Finally he got it, standing on his toes, arm stretched over his head towards the hole in the center of the roof.  He stood there, weaving slightly, until the phone told him the message had been sent then he rewrapped the bundle of his clothing to include his phone and the hide covered package, muttering under his breath.  “Nice to know Vodafone is as reliable as ever.”

With a deep breath, Marcus shifted again then stood there with his head down, breathing hard.  Shifting was tiring and doing it twice in as many hours was triply exhausting.  He picked up the bundle in his teeth again and headed out of the cave through the crevasse.  Once outside he shifted back to human.  He could have covered the ground faster on four feet but he didn’t want to start any talk and he most definitely didn’t want to get shot.  He tucked the bundle under his shirt, fighting not to gag at the smell, and headed back to the hotel.

Howdy folks!  It’s halfway through December and not only do I not have the work done I wanted to get done (various reasons; some of them excuses, some of them valid) but I haven’t been doing my blog or my Facebook page like I want to.  I know there’s a block there but I can’t figure it out.  I know my block for my blog – I don’t always think I have things worth writing.

But we’ve been over that before so, moving on.

As you can see, Marcus found something intriguing, something that has Anna all agog.

Anna held out a hand for the package and Marcus willingly handed it over then bolted for the shower.  Anna gagged, her stomach heaving.  She got it under control as the other three looked at each other in alarm then sat down with the hide package in her lap.  Some part of her brain just clicked into being her father’s daughter, all about the history and knowledge.  After reverently stroking the package, Anna undid the intricate knot that held the ropes in place.

Marcus growled when he came back into the sitting room, shirtless, barefoot and hair still damp from his shower.  “Anna!  Do you have to be so slow?  That stench is unbearable.”

“It’s history, Marcus, one must respect it.”  Anna frowned at him even as she fought to keep her eyes from following the trail of hair that disappeared into his waistband.  She swallowed and a faint blush crept up her neck as she remembered the night she had received her collar.  Anna reached up and touched the collar hidden by a small glamour then scratched a spot just above it to hide the motion before dropping her hand and peeling the hide away from the contents.  She lifted the stack of journals and spoke.  “Someone put this smelly thing in a bag and in the closet.”

Brock leapt forward and swept it from her lap.  He threw it in a backpack, zipped it shut, tossed the whole thing in the closet and shut the door. 

Immediately everyone breathed a sigh of relief. 

Anna set the journals back in her lap and picked up the one on top.  She opened the cover and read the first page.  Her frown deepened as she read.  “This is a journal of the area.  It was started five years ago.  It talks about the strange occurrences and is a continuation of other journals.”  She read aloud. 

My name is… well you don’t need to know my name.  But I am the 16th in a long line of watchers.  We watch for what is now called the paranormal.  Strange deaths.  Animal sightings.  Stories of witches.  We watch.

And we wait.

Soon it will come time to avenge the deaths.

To avenge the slaughter.

We watch.  We wait.

We train.

We will persevere.

Anna tapped a finger on the page.  “We need to find these people.  And I need Elsie. Jules, you start with the newest one.  Brock, the one before it.  Doug, take this one,”  she handed them out as she spoke.  “Marcus, this one,” she gave him the second oldest, “and I’ll take the remaining.  First though, I need to get Elsie.”

Then I got stymied, need to do a little research into Early Modern English.  And create that family whose sole purpose is to watch the Supernatural.  I think it can start with that old woman Liliya ignored when she turned Alasdair Jr.    If that woman can convince one person (and, miraculously, she can) then perhaps that person can convince a family.  Or maybe she can convince a family that takes her in out of the cold.

And Anna and Elsie will discover the truth by reading that first journal. They’ll go on to discover how Alasdair Jr./Liliya convinced John Dalrymple to help betray his family.  Lovely.

And only five, maybe six journals?  Tiny, cramped writing and long periods of nothing happening maybe.

*grins*  I love you guys!  I should write here more often.  Talking to you helps me figure things out.

Off to write this out and get my daughter up for school.  And make gingerbread cookies.  And pack for the weekend with my boyfriend.  Have to remember to pack something nice for The Nutcracker tomorrow.

Have a great Friday, folks!

Motivations, Development and Blocks

ARGH!  I’ve been stuck AGAIN!   And why?  Because I realized that I don’t know why Alasdair the Second would betray his entire clan and set about having them destroyed.  Or why Liliya, a beautiful Russian Vampire, would turn a man such as he.  

So I need a little back story on the two of them I think.  I’ve been mulling this over for a week now and I think it comes down to two things:



Obvious right?


I think Liliya is the love.  She wants a companion for her (semi) eternal life.  For some reason she fell for the angry Highlander.  Maybe Allie reminds her of her father.  A brute of a man in the 14th Century who was angry most all the time.  Maybe.  Or maybe she sees something in Allie he doesn’t know is there yet.  Maybe her turning was a violent thing.  

Allie is in it for the power.  He hated being a second son (second born, numbers 3 & 4 were girls) and wanted to rule the clan for himself.  He’s promised power, wealth and eternal life with a beautiful woman.  What more could a man want?  Especially a man dissatisfied with being the second son who is being sent off to serve in the Church of Scotland.  He met her when he was sent to a General Assembly of the Church.  He served in his own Kirk at the will of his father.  He did so with a good pretense of being a good, godly man.  He was to be sent to theological university, leaving his wife behind.

(Writing on the fly here)

His marriage to Sarah Campbell was meant to ease relations between the two clans but he hated her.

And this is where I will veer off from history.  Sarah dies and Allie remarries but obviously, since he’s going to be a Vampire, he’ll not do that.  I’m trying to decide where the wealth and power comes in but maybe he’ll buy up land under assumed names throughout Glen Coe over the centuries and hold on to it.  Haven’t decided why yet.  Maybe he’ll rule the clan for a few years and leave before someone notices he’s not aging properly.  There’ll be stories of people disappearing, whispered terror over why he doesn’t come out before sunset.  And maybe snide tales about the beautiful Russian who lives in sin with him.  

*le sigh*  That means rewriting this chapter.   Again.

But the blockage is smaller.  

Now, if I could stop hurting quite so bad and stop getting toxed.  

Oh wait, that means getting rid of the children.  (My 16 y/o son has his 16 y/o best friend over, an Xbox and an HDTV.  My 12 y/o daughter is also here but being quiet) 



Life Lessons

Out on my walk (4 mornings this week, thank you very much, and that means I deserve Timmies) and I discovered three life lessons.

1.  You really can chase a rabbit down a rabbit hole.  Damn thing was too fast for me to get a picture of though.

2. Never take a wooded path early in the morning without long pants and sleeves.  Especially in a town that calls itself the “mosquito capital of Southwestern Ontario.”  (It isn’t but we really do have so little to brag about)




3.  And this is really most important:

Never assume that the path before you is the only option there is.

There are always options.

Some are difficult to climb.


Some are a steep climb that lead to the scary unknown.  (I know, it’s blurry, took me 43 tries to take pics of anything today though)

And some are a slippery slope full of bumps, bruises and scrapes that could lead someplace beautiful.

So you never know if the path you see before you is the only one there, if it’s the path you’re stuck on.

Heavy for a 7 am walk, eh?  

Oh and some places that look peaceful can really stink:

This place smelled like stale water, mold and deep fried things.

Just some thoughts to share with you today!

In HW3 I have decided that Alasdair the Betrayer is going to frighten a Glen Coe family into service – day time protectors, errand runners etc.  Have a chapter in my head that will show that.  And the kind of evil that he is becoming.  I’m not quite sure where it’s going to go that won’t be a Vampire cliche but we’ll see.  Maybe a run in with someone in Cain’s Kiss that will leave a mark in the books and piss Cain off.

Ooh, yes, good idea.

Oh and the old woman in the massacre chapter that just fades away and disappears (Liliya lets her go) dies and becomes a ghost, staying hidden from everyone, waiting for the chance to tell someone what happened.  Someone who can help.  Maybe she travels with Allie and Liliya?  hmmm  I like this.

Yes, tomorrow I will still be posting a photoblog.  I have something special to show you.

Have a great Friday folks!  

WeddingThis and Highland That

For some reason, Anna has decided that she wants to show Liam and the rest of the Pack that she respects their culture by having a troupe perform a Highland dance.

I thought “Okay, that won’t be a bitch to write or anything but I like the idea.”  

There are two dances I knew of off the bat: The Fling and the Sword Dance.  Everybody knows those dances, right?  (Okay, maybe it’s just some Canuck who’s been obsessed with Scotland since she was a kid that knows)  Apparently there are ways and there are ways to do those dances.  

There’s a traditional sword dance like this one: 

There’s another traditional one called the Army Sword Dance (I think) that looks like this:

There’s the Fling, which I like but I don’t think fits in with a Supernat wedding attended by all kinds of were-animals.  

So I’m thinking – after a lot of research – that maybe combining these guys:  (And I swear, if you’ve not clicked on a video yet, click on this one!)

with some one like these three:


A male who can dance traditional and wild at the same time.  Someone who can throw themselves into the music.  Who can turn his body into the music, show the emotions with his movements.  A fire dancer.  I wonder if there are any in Scotland?

Oh and aye, there are.  A quick Google search provided me with several options.  

I think they’re going to be a small Wolf Pack living in Northumberland National Park.  Mountain men style.  

It’s settled!  Even D thinks it’s a good idea (grudgingly mind you).  It’ll be a surprise.  And I do love that it’s fiction and I can do/get anything I want for the wedding.  hehehe  It’s going to be the Clanadonia, a huge bonfire and a fire dancer or six.

I think the Clanadonia are phenomenal.  The question truly is: Can I do them justice writing about them?  They are as much visual as they are audio.  

Teases and Titillations

Well I am about to tease your socks off!  Maybe that should be “I’m about to tease your pants off!”

I have been working on developing Anna and Liam’s relationship, the kink side.  It’s obvious the vanilla side works really well but since she left  and he had to bring her back they’ve been working on the kink.  So I’m going to show you what I’ve been writing the last few days.  

THIS IS NOT KID-FRIENDLY.  If you are under 18, vamoose.  You shouldn’t be here anyway, this is an adult blog.

So, the rest of you, the grown-ups who have a good grip (hehehe!  I amuse myself) on their sexuality, are you ready?

I hope so…


Chapter Eight


Anna jumped about a foot and stepped into the bedroom, unable to see Liam.  The room was lit with candles and a small table was set with a single place setting, the food she could smell covered by a steel dome.  “Lee?”

Liam took a step towards her from the doorway and crossed his arms.  “Have you forgotten already that I am your Master?”

Startled again, Anna turned to face him.  She drew in a sharp breath in appreciation at his appearance.  He was wearing black leather pants that hugged his hips and legs and cradled the sleeping erection to perfection.  The pants were open at the top, the single button undone, and the trail of his light chest hair into the space between button and buttonhole made her want to see more. On his feet were heavy Doc Martens.  The boots had a buckle at the ankle and another near the top, where they stopped mid-calf.  Anna licked her lips.

Another step towards her and he growled softly.  “I asked you a question, girl.”

Anna’s eyes flicked up to his then down again.  “No Master, I haven’t forgotten.”

“Good.  Strip.”  Liam moved around her to the table to sit in the chair there.

“Yes Master.”  She turned to face him and removed her clothing, folding each piece and setting it aside in a neat pile.  Then she stood before him, arms folded behind her back so each hand grasped the opposite elbow and her feet were shoulder width apart.  It was only then that she noticed a thick, square box on the opposite side of the dinner plate.

Liam looked her over, eyes shuttered to hide the love and desire in them.  “Good girl, kneel. Thighs apart, hands behind your head.”  He watched as she did as he asked.  Her thighs were spread far enough apart that he could see her arousal beginning.  “Close your eyes.”  Again he watched as she did as she was told.

“Master I spoke to El-“

He cut her off.  “Did I give you permission to speak?”

Anna paused, surprised.  Then she murmured, “No Master.”

“Then don’t.”  He watched her for a moment to see if she’d answer.  When she kept her mouth shut he picked up the box and opened it.  Inside was a steel collar with a D-rig at the front, beside a hinge and an invisible lock behind it.  Liam leaned forward and slipped the cold steel around her throat.

Anna gasped at the feel of it, at the chill and the weight.  She opened her mouth then closed it again and waited.  She felt more than heard the snick of the lock fitting together.  Then his warm fingers wrapped around her wrists and he brought her hands down to her lap.  He left the left one there and she felt a slim object being pressed into her hand.  She automatically curled her fingers around it as her breath caught in her throat in anticipation.

“Open your eyes and look at me, girl.” 

Anna opened her eyes and looked up at him, resisting the urge to look at the thing in her hand.  She also resisted the urge to touch the metal around her neck. 

Liam smiled at his Mate.  “You are mine, Anna.  My mate, my pet, my wife.  The ceremony with the dress and flowers, that’s just for everyone else and the government.  You belong to me and you have from the beginning, isn’t that right?”  His voice was gentle.

“Yes Master, I have always belonged to you.”  Anna smiled at him.

“You have in your hand the key for the collar around your neck.  You must lock it of your own free will.  If you do you will belong to me completely.  You will wear the collar in our bedroom and you will wear this alternative when we are everywhere else.”  He lifted a necklace made of slim steel chain; the pendant was a tiny steel padlock not much bigger than his thumbnail.  “You have standing permission to change them when leaving or entering this room.”

Anna offered the key back to him.  Pain clouded his eyes for a moment.  “Please put it in the lock, Master, so that I can turn it.”

The pain cleared and pleasure flooded his face as he took the key and put it in the lock.  Liam watched as she twisted the key and gave it back to him.  He grabbed her by the collar and dragged her forward to kiss her nearly senseless.  Then he let her go and lifted his eyes to the shadows beside the door.  “You saw her.”

Marcus stepped out, scaring Anna badly.  “Aye, my Alpha.  I saw her lock the collar of her own free will.  She is your girl, your slut, yours from now until death.”

Anna frowned briefly, she hadn’t sensed him and it worried her.  Then she realized that she had been totally focussed on Liam.  She smiled at Marcus then lowered her eyes.

Liam lifted her chin.  “Inside this room you are not an Alpha, you have no power here.  You are what I tell you, you will do what I tell you.  And right now, you will suck Marcus’s cock.”

Anna’s mouth opened.  “But Master…”

“Did you just question me?”

“N-no Master.”  Anna blushed then started to rise.

“Crawl to Marcus.”  Liam smiled as she dropped to her fours and did as she was told.  “Good girl.”

Anna’s blush was body wide.  Her arousal added to it, turned the blush into firelight playing under her skin.  She reached Marcus and pushed back until her bum reached her heels.  It took her a moment to stop looking at Marcus’s feet and look up at him.  She blinked at him once then dropped her eyes to his knees.

“Ask him for permission.”  Liam’s voice was quiet.

It raced through her mind to remind him he had told her to do it but she was too far gone to be sassy.  The colour beneath her skin changed subtly as a dull orange began to swirl into the red. Anna peered up at Marcus again.  “Please, may I…”  Her voice trailed off. 

“May you what, Anna?”  Marcus’s voice was low and seemed to flow over her and caress her.

“May I suck your cock?”  It was a whisper but both men heard it.

Marcus began undoing the button fly of the jeans her wore slung low around his hips.  “Since it is the will of your Master, you may.”  He unbuttoned the casual Oxford shirt he wore and put his hands on his hips.  “Do the rest yourself.”

Anna’s brain clicked all the way over in slave mode and she reached for him without hesitation.  She parted his jeans and reached into the briefs beneath them.  Her fingers curled around a thickening cock and pulled it gently free.  With one hand wrapped around the base she leaned up and swept her tongue around the head and brushed it over the crown. 

Marcus’s cock twitched and she grinned.  Anna tongued the crown again and was rewarded with another twitch.  So she wrapped her lips around the head and sucked gently, tongue swirling over him.  Not only did he twitch but he groaned.  She sucked harder and felt him grow a little.  She enveloped all of him.  Her hands left his cock to reach around to his ass as she drew the semi-soft length into her mouth. 

The tip touched the back of her throat and Marcus groaned.  He looked to Liam, his hands moving from his hips towards her head.  At the shake of Liam’s head Marcus returned his hands to his hips with a groan of frustration.

Anna cradled his cock with her tongue and pulled back, sucking hard as she did.  The motion pulled blood towards the tip and made him harder.  She did it over and over again until Marcus was fully hard then she bobbed her head up and down the length of him, her tongue constantly moving.  She Fed on his pleasure, added to it and fed it back to him.  The act of sucking his cock, of making him feel more, feel every sweep of her tongue, every scrape of her teeth, kicked her arousal into high gear and flames swirled under her skin.

Marcus threw his head back and fought to keep his hands to himself.   He dug his fingers into his own flesh and ground his teeth audibly as Anna slipped his cock into her throat until her lips touched the base.  He had such a tight grip on himself he was leaving indents.  When Anna swallowed around him his knees nearly buckled.  She gagged and pulled back.


Are you teased and titillated?  


That’s the plan.

Liam having Anna suck Marcus’s cock was his way of showing her that HE is in control, not her.  He is the Master here and she is the slave.  In BDSM that affords the slave very few rights of refusal, you give that up when you lock that collar on yourself.  They’d discussed him sharing her with others in both previous books. It’s something that intrigued her but she was, overall, against.  It was a fantasy but not one she felt she could really handle.

Blow jobs are a relatively minor thing for her to be made to do.  Liam is thinking he wants it to go further but I’m not so sure.   I don’t want Anna upset and I’m pretty sure that would upset her.  I think Marcus will orgasm and be sent away.

Since today is my first anniversary with Peter, I am going to go and make breakfast for us then get on with our plans for the day.

Have a great Sunday everyone!

Holidays, Fantasies, Characters, and Plot Lines

 Happy Canada Day!

It is indeed Canada Day!  In 1867 Canada officially became an independently governed colony.  

Canada Day (French: Fête du Canada) is the national day of Canada, a federal statutory holiday celebrating the anniversary of the July 1, 1867, enactment of the British North America Act, 1867 (today called the Constitution Act, 1867, in Canada), which united three coloniesinto a single country called Canada within the British Empire. Originally called Dominion Day (French: Le Jour de la Confédération), the name was changed in 1982, the year the Canada Act was passed. Canada Day observances take place throughout Canada as well as by Canadians internationally.


Bonne fête Canada!  Happy Canada Day!

Now that we have that over with, let’s get on with things.

I think my brain is finally working again.  I smell smoke so I think it is.

So I wrote a little fluff piece called The Milk Man.  It’s kinda hot.  It’s not my usual fare though.  It’s a MFM threesome (male-female-male),  which is not all that unusual for me.  It involves …toys… also not that unusual.  

“So what IS unusual about it, Caity?”

I’m so glad you asked!  “Toys” should be “equipment” and Rolf drugs the girl with E.  I don’t state that explicitly in the story but he gives her a drink of water that tastes funny and shortly thereafter sensations and pleasure are amped up.  What else could it be?  *chuckles*

Second – oh, didn’t I say “first”?  Oh well – Rolf takes her for a long drive, making her masturbate in the front seat as he goes.  My favourite part of their drive is the end:  (I should say that Rolf is a ‘Daddy Dom’, something that has nothing to do with age play in this case.  It’s about nurturing and attitudes and no desire to have someone act like they’re 15 or younger.  It’s the way the term Daddy has always been in BDSM, it’s only fairly recently that it’s turned into something with littles and that’s affected the whole form of Dominance.)

Anna gasped in equal measures fear and arousal.  When the car dipped to the shoulder her fingernails and scraped against her clit.  The fear just added to everything she was feeling and when combined with the blindfold, the spectacle she was sure she was making of herself and the random bumps in the road forcing her fingers into places that she didn’t intend was driving her into subspace.

Rolf finally turned into a gravel driveway.  “Slide your fingers inside you, girl.   Keep them there until we stop. Don’t move them.”

“Yes Daddy.”  Anna slipped two fingers into her hot, wet core and pressed her palm against her clit.

As they bumped along the rutted driveway Anna’s fingers slid in and out and her palm constantly bumped her clit.  By the time they stopped in front of a large, well kept barn, she was on the edge of orgasm, nearly crying with the need for more.  “Please Daddy!  Please.”  The last word was drawn out on a whimper, turned into five syllables.

See?  A bumpy road made good.  After that he makes her squirt hard.  

The equipment?  A modified milking machine and a spanking bench made to hold someone to be milked.  And taken advantage of.

Unusual, no?  Not sure why it was in my head but now it’s on paper (so to speak) so I can get back to work.

Work for the next couple of days involves organizing details.  Character details, location details, weapons, allies, enemies.  I have two books to go through.  I’ll write as I can in HW3 but this has to be done too.  I have to keep it straight somehow.

So what does my it’s my method and by the Gods you’d better not touch it hyper-organized self do to keep it all straight?  

A binder.

With dividers.

And sub-categories.  

And different colours.

Oh and a list in the front telling me what colours are what.

Plus highlighters and different styles of writing for each part of each category.

The problem is that there is soooo much to go through.  I am glad that I didn’t wait until the end of book three.  

Also, I’m trying to decide where the wedding will be.  The Botanical Gardens?  The Pack grounds?  

Oh oh oh my!  I just found it!

The Duke Street Church:

It’s no longer used.  Might be owned by the estate Prince Sarah inherited when she stepped into Skeena’s place.  hmmm

I’m trying to find interior pictures.  If any of you have any ideas where I could (because none of my searches are showing it) please, please let me know!

So Anna has picked her dress in HW3.  And I made a decision about how it’s all getting done quickly.

The entire community was eager for this wedding and had stepped up.  The caterers, the hall, the flowers… everything was run by the Supernatural community. 

See?  So it’ll get done, one way or another.   Now that the dress will be chosen Chelle is hustling Anna through choosing bridesmaids dresses.   Oh crap, I have to pick bridesmaid dresses!   *headdesks*  Oh and I have to figure out what “the hall” is too.  

Okay, I have work to do, brunch to make and a boyfriend to wake.  Brunch means a walk to the grocery store.  

Oh, speaking of desks!  Take a look at my new work space.  Tee says it’s messy but it’s perfectly organized, thank you very much!  

That’s Wilson under the monitor, the terrifying cat behind the laptop, a tea cup AND a water bottle. The space is HUGE and I love it! Have Peter to thank for it.

Love the new space.  I need a new chair though lol   No, the tower isn’t hooked up.  The monitor is linked to my laptop.  

And speaking of Peter:

♥ Self-portrait of the two of us. I love it.

Have a great holiday weekend!  (for those in Canada and the US [July 4th] who have a holiday)