Passion's Invocation, Tuesday Teasers

Unveiling Melody

Slave Adornment

[Image found here: Ty Rigors –

http://tyrigorsgemsmithshop.blogspot.com/2012/05/slave-adornment_19.html]

Melody knelt on the bed, admiring her body from every angle. She couldn’t believe her eyes. After years of struggling, suffering, and torment, she finally had the body to go with her ever-present thoughts.

Jenson had been in London for months; a business trip he couldn’t avoid. He had returned only one half hour ago. He traveled frequently, which was the best kind of roommate to have, but she had missed his company and friendship this time. She knew that he would be in jogging pants and finishing his first beer by now.

Melody stood to take a closer look in the mirror when Jenson called her name,

“Mel! Mel,  you here, buddy boy?”

He opened the bedroom door without knocking. Jenson had seen her nude before, but never like this. He stood in the doorway, eyes open wide, mouth agape, and trying not to drool.

Mel bolted for the bathroom but Jenson quickly followed, catching the door before she could lock it. She pushed and he pulled. They were deadlocked. Neither was going to give in.

Finally Jenson’s deep baritone voice surrounded her like silk,

“You didn’t tell me the surgery was over… and obviously a tremendous success! Now bring that fuckalicous ass out here. I need to take it for a spin!”

By Wildfire8470

© copyright 2013-03-14 20:01:35 – All Rights Reserved

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In honor of LGBT Pride Month

And for Joey. I love and miss you.


[Copied From:  http://www.loc.gov/lgbt/about.html for learning purposes]

Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender Pride Month (LGBT Pride Month) is currently celebrated each year in the month of June to honor the 1969 Stonewall riots in Manhattan. The Stonewall riots were a tipping point for the Gay Liberation Movement in the United States. In the United States the last Sunday in June was initially celebrated as “Gay Pride Day,” but the actual day was flexible. In major cities across the nation the “day” soon grew to encompass a month-long series of events. Today, celebrations include pride parades, picnics, parties, workshops, symposia and concerts, and LGBT Pride Month events attract millions of participants around the world. Memorials are held during this month for those members of the community who have been lost to hate crimes or HIV/AIDS. The purpose of the commemorative month is to recognize the impact that lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender individuals have had on history locally, nationally, and internationally.

In 1994, a coalition of education-based organizations in the United States designated October as LGBT History Month. In 1995, a resolution passed by the General Assembly of the National Education Association included LGBT History Month within a list of commemorative months.

LGBT History Month is also celebrated with annual month-long observances of lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender history, along with the history of the gay rights and related civil rights movements. National Coming Out Day (October 11), as well as the first “March on Washington” in 1979, are commemorated in the LGBT community during LGBT History Month.

By Wildfire8470

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Passion's Invocation

Thursday Thrills 5/16/2013: Broken Jade

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Broken Jade

Broken JadeJade took her first steps on the catwalk feeling like something was amiss. She just wasn’t able to put her finger on it. She was no stranger to the catwalk or the dog-eat-dog world of modeling, but tonight would be unlike any other. 


She joined the rest of the girls in dress change, as usual. In the few moments they had to prepare, everyone was reaching, grabbing, and rifling through clothes, jewelry, furs, and feathers. The rush and tension had dulled her senses to anything outside of being ready in time.

As she stepped behind the curtain to ready herself for her last walk of the night, she noticed a strange movement in the shadowed corner. 

“Probably just one of the girls taking speed or shooting up,” she thought, trying to shake off a feeling of dread. 

Suddenly, Miss Kent, head of the Ford modeling agency, changed the lineup and Jade was at the back of the line. She would be the one to close the show. Jade hated waiting. It made her nervous.

She fell in love with Melea three years ago, two of which they had lived under the same roof. She noticed movement in the corner shadows again and gauged her time. 

“I’m on in about three minutes,” she thought, as she stepped from line to investigate. 

She pulled back the curtain to let the backstage light in, and found Melea between the thighs of a young, new model. There was no time for this now. Jade ran back to the line with Melea calling after her, but Miss Kent hurriedly pushed her onto the catwalk. 

She stepped from the heavy curtain feeling dazed, hurt, dizzy, and enraged. Cameras flashed everywhere as she tried to slap on a smile and wing it, until she was taking her last steps.

She urged herself through it thinking, “Almost there. Almost home. You can make it.” 

Just as she was ready to dissolve into tears, a fashion photographer appeared just inside the curtain. He had caught her raw emotions, rage, and discomposure, in a single shot that could end her career. She could already imagine tomorrow’s headlines.

Jade pushed by the obnoxious photographer and ran for the exit, nearly knocking Miss Kent off her feet in the process. For just a moment, she thought of how many times she had slapped on a smile, and how Miss Kent had direct say about her life, work, eating habits, almost everything. She realized just how public her triumphs had been, but hadn’t expected her failures to be as well.

She ran down the stairs until the stern voice of Miss Kent stopped her.

“Jade! Jade! Unprofessional doesn’t begin to cover it,” she began her angry tirade.

Feeling utterly betrayed, and profoundly broken, pain and anger poured from her lips. In a fit of overwhelming emotions, she screamed, 

“Yea! Yea!  I’ll let you know where to send my last fucking check!”

The last thing she heard was Miss Kent yelling, “You don’t mean that, Jade! You get back here now!”

But this time, she didn’t stop, couldn’t stop. With the picture of Melea etched into mind, she raced for the car and pulled onto a highway that may never end. Leaving behind her love and her life, she gunned the engine, heading for anywhere but here.

By Wildfire8470
© copyright 2013-05-21 09:11:17 – All Rights Reserved
~KAS~ Wildfire8470 Logo 2
Logo designed at http://Cooltext.com
Please visit our other fine thrillers!:

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Passion's Invocation, Thursday Thrills

Broken Jade

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Broken Jade

Broken JadeJade took her first steps on the catwalk feeling like something was amiss. She just wasn’t able to put her finger on it. She was no stranger to the catwalk or the dog-eat-dog world of modeling, but tonight would be unlike any other. 


She joined the rest of the girls in dress change, as usual. In the few moments they had to prepare, everyone was reaching, grabbing, and rifling through clothes, jewelry, furs, and feathers. The rush and tension had dulled her senses to anything outside of being ready in time.

As she stepped behind the curtain to ready herself for her last walk of the night, she noticed a strange movement in the shadowed corner. 

“Probably just one of the girls taking speed or shooting up,” she thought, trying to shake off a feeling of dread. 

Suddenly, Miss Kent, head of the Ford modeling agency, changed the lineup and Jade was at the back of the line. She would be the one to close the show. Jade hated waiting. It made her nervous.

She fell in love with Melea three years ago, two of which they had lived under the same roof. She noticed movement in the corner shadows again and gauged her time. 

“I’m on in about three minutes,” she thought, as she stepped from line to investigate. 

She pulled back the curtain to let the backstage light in, and found Melea between the thighs of a young, new model. There was no time for this now. Jade ran back to the line with Melea calling after her, but Miss Kent hurriedly pushed her onto the catwalk. 

She stepped from the heavy curtain feeling dazed, hurt, dizzy, and enraged. Cameras flashed everywhere as she tried to slap on a smile and wing it, until she was taking her last steps.

She urged herself through it thinking, “Almost there. Almost home. You can make it.” 

Just as she was ready to dissolve into tears, a fashion photographer appeared just inside the curtain. He had caught her raw emotions, rage, and discomposure, in a single shot that could end her career. She could already imagine tomorrow’s headlines.

Jade pushed by the obnoxious photographer and ran for the exit, nearly knocking Miss Kent off her feet in the process. For just a moment, she thought of how many times she had slapped on a smile, and how Miss Kent had direct say about her life, work, eating habits, almost everything. She realized just how public her triumphs had been, but hadn’t expected her failures to be as well.

She ran down the stairs until the stern voice of Miss Kent stopped her.

“Jade! Jade! Unprofessional doesn’t begin to cover it,” she began her angry tirade.

Feeling utterly betrayed, and profoundly broken, pain and anger poured from her lips. In a fit of overwhelming emotions, she screamed, 

“Yea! Yea!  I’ll let you know where to send my last fucking check!”

The last thing she heard was Miss Kent yelling, “You don’t mean that, Jade! You get back here now!”

But this time, she didn’t stop, couldn’t stop. With the picture of Melea etched into mind, she raced for the car and pulled onto a highway that may never end. Leaving behind her love and her life, she gunned the engine, heading for anywhere but here.

By Wildfire8470
© copyright 2013-05-21 09:11:17 – All Rights Reserved
~KAS~ Wildfire8470 Logo 2
Logo designed at http://Cooltext.com
Please visit our other fine thrillers!:

Christopher Southers:





Naomi Shaw: http://www.authornaomishaw.com/


Passion's Invocation, Romance, Tuesday Teasers

Wrath Of An Irish Maiden

Wrath Of An Irish Maiden

Storm - Blackhead - Sea - cliff - Ireland - county Clare

Kathleen waited in her modest home, with the parish Priest and her family, listening to storm reports. The breaking news announced the flash flood that brought down a bridge. Kathleen knew he was on it, crossing that bridge to get to her, even in this horrid storm.

Digesting the news she’d just heard, Kathleen sat stock-still for a moment, letting the enormity of it hit her. Then she bolted, still in her wedding gown, running into the wind of a storm that County Clare had not seen the likes of for twenty five years.

The cyclone blew its fury, dashing waves and spray over the tops of nearby cliffs. With storm clouds surrounding her, blacker than night, she screamed her frenzied grief into side-slanting rain that blew her long, red hair straight back, “You took him from me! You godforsaken bitch! You took him from me” she wailed and sobbed, screaming at Mother Nature and any god that would listen.

With gale-force winds whipping her slight frame to and fro, she edged dangerously close to the slippery, black shale, cliffs. She was barely discernible in the driving rain and the cold splashing of the Atlantic. Only bolts and flashes of lightning that split the sky gave enough illumination to make out the shape of a mad woman, with her entire body twisting, cursing, and fighting an unseen enemy as she pummeled her own demons.

Kathleen was far beyond fear of storms that once terrified her. Tonight, she feared nothing, including death. She shook her tiny fists at the gods, at all of the legends and lore about hearty, Irish, men and women who had survived worse.

She could not imagine worse than a life without her love, and continued her raving madness, “There is no worse,” she shrieked, “This is worst,” she screamed, releasing her unrelenting pain into the raging tempest that spat it back in her face with its howling winds.

Bolts of lightning dodged her small frame as though fearful but the deluge answered her, splattering her soaked body with a vengeance. Her pearl-white gown clung to her, filthy, tattered, and shredded, with her beautiful face now contorted in utter insanity. Outrage and agony tore through her, as nothing ever had.

She was mad with grief, incensed ire, and beyond the ability to return from her own hell, but the storm pitched everything it had at her. Kathleen fought, swore, and cursed, as though boxing the merciless onslaught.

Finally, she leaned into the wild winds, screaming her wrath that matched the raging, furious cyclone and then charged the jagged cliffs, swearing to join her love in death.

Out of nowhere, strong arms encompassed her waist, hauling her back to safety. Exhaustion claimed her as she fainted into merciful blackness, not even realizing she had fainted into the arms of her fiancé.

By Wildfire8470

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© January 15, 2017 – 10:08 PM – All Rights Reserved

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Tags;  Cliffs of MoherFictionGriefInsanityIrelandIrish Legend, LossRageRomanceTantalizing Tuesday TeaserTrue LoveTuesday Teasers, Wrath, WiP, Wrath

 

Passion's Invocation, Tuesday Teasers

9.7

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TTT Participating Authors

Flower-stained dresser and wallCalenda and I have been roommates since she started college. She rented my spare room and four years later she’s still rooming here. She was a Drama and Dance major, and is definitely the ultimate drama queen. If she isn’t looking for trouble, trouble comes to lean on the doorbell. Still, she’s like my baby sister.

Tonight, I found her her seated before a large vase containing only bare stems, and a water glass filled with whiskey. I quickly surveyed the room to find it filled with a dozen vases, all filled with bare stems. Then it registered that she had ripped the roses off and hurled them at the wall. The photo of her boyfriend was beyond repair.

I knelt beside Calenda and asked, “Boy trouble?” She shook her head and sighed. I took her hand and led her to the couch, put on her favorite movie and made popcorn.

As I took a seat next to her, I scrambled for something light to say, “The flowers were colorful. Good aim! I give ya a 9.7,” I laughed jovially. She finally smiled and I suspected that we would be trying to repair the photograph before another day passed.

 

By Wildfire8470

© copyright 2013-03-15 06:04:46 – All Rights Reserved

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Love and Lust, Passion's Invocation

THE PICKUP LINE

482599_10200844032086013_1310640666_n

Amanda sat on a stool, in a hotel bar that reminded her of her youth. She had gone to places like this voluntarily when she was in her late teens and early twenties. She was scarcely twenty nine now, but that seemed like an eternity ago. She was not necessarily in this meat market voluntarily tonight.

This evening, she had run from her home after finding Joel with her best friend, in the bed they had shared for twelve years. She was unbearably wounded and unbelievably angry. The sight of her naked boyfriend fucking Angie with a driving need he had never shown her, made her stomach pitch.

She had stood there transfixed at the sight of Angie moaning with Joel’s every powerful thrust. Angie’s breasts heaved in rhythm with her moans and gasps. She was obviously in the throes of an ecstasy that Amanda envied. They were so lost in each other that they hadn’t even heard her enter.

Amanda closed her eyes against the images and finished her third Long Island Iced Tea. She had no idea how she drove here. It was such a frenzied blur that she scarcely remembered bolting from the house.

She checked her watch to find that she had been in this small bar for nearly two hours. The night crowd was beginning to pour in and with it; the band started to play.

Angie yelled her order over the too-loud, pulsing, music as ‘a suit’ sat down beside her. She still recognized the men who arrived directly from work looking to get laid.

“’Suits,’” she thought, “still the same, but he looks good… for ‘a suit,’” Amanda surmised as she eyed him cautiously.

Another half hour passed before she noted that he matched her drink for drink, and was getting an eyeful himself.

Amanda was still in her work clothes. She wore slacks that fitted to her form and a new, red, blouse that was cut all the way down to there, with stilettoes that completed the sexy ensemble. She had wanted to surprise Joel tonight and visibly grimaced as the images returned.

Suddenly, ‘the suit’ turned to her and opened his mouth as if to speak, but then he turned away just as suddenly. She swallowed the last of her fourth drink filled with curiosity.

Surely, there wasn’t a pick up line she hadn’t heard and turned down before, but she wondered why he seemed to be working up his nerve so intently, and consuming liquid courage like the bar was sure to run out.

Amanda realized she was inebriated but where was she going to go? “Home,” she asked herself, “Not bloody likely!”

She sniffed angrily, shook her head unconsciously, and slammed the rest of her drink. Still, she was intrigued. She couldn’t shake her curiosity about ‘the suit.’

Amanda nursed her drink until the next time he turned in her direction. She whirled her stool to face him, held ‘the suit’ with a glare and said,

“What? What could you possibly say that would make me consider you,” she spat with more venom than she’d meant to unleash. Amanda turned back to her drink sure that she had shut him down in record time.

Then she felt her stool being forced back to him. ‘The suit” firmly held her shoulder with one hand while the other raised her chin until their eyes met.

His voice was deep and excitedly nervous, but he calmly spoke the words he had been wanting to since he arrived,

“This is not you. Someone did this to you.”

Amanda tried to say something, anything, but he pressed his thumb hard against her lips and continued,

“There is so much you don’t know yet. This is going to sound a little nuts so please just let me say it.”

Amanda quit struggling and finally paused to hear him out.

“You don’t know it yet, but you are the piece of my soul that I’ve been waiting for. You’re beautiful, stunning,” he corrected without pausing, “You’re going to be my world, my everything. I want to hold your hand, give you refuge, safety, and love. You and I… we were destined to be.”

Amanda’s eyes brimmed with tears and she swallowed hard, unable to speak. ‘The suit” went on,

“This isn’t you. You’re not this woman who’s filled with pain.”

She shook her head but he immediately called her bluff,

“A man,” he started, “No. A real man doesn’t claim to love you and then destroy you. You are a loving, kind, and pardon me for saying it bluntly, but the most desirable, profoundly extraordinary, utterly fuckable

woman I’ve ever met. I want you, and I want you in my life right now. Take my hand and come home with me tonight. We’ll pick a chapel first thing tomorrow. We’ll exchange names when you feel safer. Take my hand.”

With tears trickling down her cheeks, Amanda took his hand, knowing that he was everything she had ever prayed for. He wrapped her slight frame into his arms and steered her through the crowd and out the door.

They arrived at his gorgeous home in less than twenty minutes. He put her in front of the warm glow of the fireplace, not letting her go for a second.  She relaxed into his arms, hugging her knees to hide her face while she wept. It was the strangest, most overwhelming, mix of emotions she had ever experienced.

At last, Amanda knew with certainty that she would love this man forever, and she would never have to be fearful again.
 
 
By Wildfire8470

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