The Look 1

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Chapter 1:  Revelations

the-look

 Sherman recalled his triumphant return from battle. He was jubilant enough to ask her father for Constance’ hand in marriage. Many truths were revealed that night. It was an evening he would never forget.

Colonel Douglas Brenner appeared to be all business. He ran the mansion quite efficiently, made his fortune in farming, land and crops, and spoiled his daughter with extravagant trinkets and lavish gowns all for the fun of seeing her face light up with joy.

Colonel Brenner shook Sherman’s hand and slapped him on the back, saying, “I wish you luck, old boy. You’re braver than the dandies that came to call before you.”

“Why thank you, sir,” he responded stiffly.

“Don’t be so formal, Sherman. We’re practically family now,” the colonel smiled.

They shared cigars and brandy over a game of chess until the small hours of the night. After they’d had their fill of drink, Sherman watched a darkness come over the colonel as he leaned across the large, oak desk to impart his wisdom.

“Constance is not my biological daughter,” he spoke softly; “I don’t think she remembers and I am the only father she’s known. I trust you will keep this confidence strictly between us,” the colonel said conspiratorially.

“What are you saying,” Sherman questioned.

The colonel continued, “Her mother and I made the adoption legal after we were wed, son, but we decided never to tell Constance if she didn’t question her heritage”.

Sherman watched slack-jawed while the colonel took a long pull from his drink, draining the brandy from its snifter. He whispered his confusion, “But her mother is.” Again he stopped with the unease of having been drop-kicked into a mine field blindfolded.

Anice,” the colonel phrased the question for him.

“Yes,” Sherman acknowledged.

“Yes and no,” the colonel replied, “Before I married Anice, the future Mrs Brenner attended the Institut Villa Pierrefeu. It’s a finishing school in Switzerland. She shared a room with a young woman who’s reputation was,” he paused, searching for the right words, “less than sterling. Lydia Oliver was her name”.

Sherman lit a cigar, urging, “Go on”.

“The young lady got herself with child. Anice helped Lydia hide the fact, but Lydia abandoned the baby girl soon after giving birth. She left her child on a blanket with a note.”

The colnonel rummaged through a desk drawer and produced a scrap of paper. Sherman read it in silence.

“Dearest Anice, I  know you come from money and that your heart is made of gold. You’re a better friend than I could have hoped for. Please take care of her like you did me.”

Sherman looked at Douglas Brenner with new respect and asked the obvious question,  “So she kept Constance?”

“Indeed,” the colonel beamed, “She went to the Headmaster and higher-ups to explain her predicament. They tried to talk her into giving the child up for adoption but Anice was already in love with the baby girl. She was determined to keep her. It was teamwork and some luck that they managed to hide the presence of a baby at the Institut Villa Pierrefeu. Anice is quite a special woman,” He finished wistfully.

“And you married her anyways”? Sherman queried trepidaciously.

“Absolutely,” the colonel beamed, “I’ve only loved three women in my life,” he exclaimed, “My mother, Anice, and Constance. It’s no easy task to give my youngest in marriage but you’re a good man, Sherman Mandrel, I know you will never fail to do right by my little girl,” he said, patting his revolver for assurance.

“You can count on me, Colonel,” Sherman uttered, hoping his voice didn’t shake.

 

 

By Wildfire8470

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© February 23, 2017 – 07:36 PM – All Rights Reserved

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Tagged: Lust, Love, Romance, Requests, Revelations, Proposals, WiP

 

 

 

 

Part 2 ————> https://wildfire8470.wordpress.com/2017/02/23/the-look-2/

Between the Devil and the Deep 4

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Part 4

Test of Faith

dd4

 

Jake plumbed the murky sea, swimming deeper into the spot where he had seen Sirina go under. Nothing was visible in the storm-black seawater. He plumbed more deeply, extending arms blindly in every direction until his lungs threatened to burst.

He retreated and dove again with all of his senses coming alive. Jake hauled his body ever deeper seeing only blackness until his foot brushed against something which was not rock. He froze at the touch of fingertips to his ankle and falling away.

With a ludicrous mix of terror and relief propelling him, Jake pushed deeper with limbs stretched akimbo until he finally caught the feeble fingertips that attempted to alert him. He tightened his grip on a hand too weak to hold his own and hauled them both upward, drawing a great gasp of air upon surfacing. Sirina did not.

Jake caught sight of the cabin cruiser, and motivated by sheer panic, swam with fury, dragging Sirina’s limp body until he could fling himself into the dingy for leverage. Never letting go, he strengthen his hold, moving his hands to her wrist and arm. Jake braced himself and pulled mightily, hauling Sirina aboard.

On instinct, he threw himself over her tiny, lifeless form, shielding her from rain bulleting down amidst a storm which gave no quarter. Jake moved his face close to hers, listening for the sound of breath as he held his own. Nothing! Wait, Was that a shallow breath?!  Again he steeled himself, waiting and listening. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

He grabbed her shoulders shaking her, “Breathe, Sirina! Breathe!” Then he pressed his lips to hers covering her mouth to breathe life into her lungs, reciting silent instructions and shouting panic with every pause. Tilt head back. Pinch the nose. Deep breath and push into her lungs. “Breath, Sirina!” Head tilted. Pinch nose. Deep breath. Push it into her lungs. “Don’t you give up on me! Breath now, he commanded. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Following several more rounds, he paused to listen again. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

Willing her to live, and filled with terror, he administered CPR pumping her chest frantically. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. “Again! Again! Again,” Jake instructed himself aloud and to any god that might listen. Once more, he paused to listen. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Wait! What was that?

Sirina’s diaphragm lurched and she coughed.

Jake lifted her head, rejoicing, as Sirina coughed up the ocean which had nearly killed her.

As the storm died and she had sputtered her last, Jake held her close, whispering, “Inhale the good air. Exhale the bad air,” more for his comfort than hers, stroking her hair all the while and feeling her tired body fill with life.

Finally, he lay Sirina back gently, instructing, “Don’t move a muscle,” as if she could.

Sirina managed an exhausted reply, “No problem.”

Jake had already clambered up the side ladder and turned to her, issuing, “Shhh, be still.”

Jake hurdled the side rail and bolted to the wheelhouse. He hit the button which hauled the dingy and its precious cargo to safety.

Sirina stared into the now calm skies knowing that Poseidon had tested and spared her – this time.
  

 

By Wildfire8470

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©December 03, 2015 – 11:21 PM – All Rights Reserved

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Read it from the beginning!
https://wildfire8470.wordpress.com/2015/07/14/between-the-devil-and-the-deep-1/

 

Tags:  Love and Lust, Fantasy, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Man and Mermaid, Romance, Mythology, Poseidon, WiP

Hooked

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Jenner

 

Jenner checked her reflection and ran to wait behind the curtain. Looking down at the triangles of cloth that barely covered her secrets, she tried to slow her breathing.

 

No one would recognize me in this wig and makeup, she consoled herself and summoned all her courage.

Suddenly the music stopped and loud speakers blasted her cue into the drunken crowd,

 

“Announcing a little lady who’s going to make you feel Jennerrrific!

 

She bolted onto the stage, surprising her new coworkers, and immediately locked eyes with the first man she saw. He was a troll but he would do.

 

The girls said it would work, she told herself.

 

With a forced smile, Jenner swayed and gyrated to a tune she barely knew. She lowered her eyelids and let herself feel it; the pounding and pulsating sensuality began to sink in. It felt as if someone else had taken her over.

 

She pulled a knot from her hair letting the wavy length fall down her slender back. The men howled, hooted and catcalled. She knew she had them hooked and relaxed into music that enveloped her nervousness. It was heady and powerful tonic and her fears that fell away.

 

Slowly she peeled off the triangles to bare her voluptuous breasts, worked her dance movements toward the man and dipped low before him. Jenner felt primal and surprisingly brazen.

 

With full bosoms dangling before him, she gripped his lapels, pulled him from his stool and kissed him hotly, then shoved him back down, and finished the song with one leg wrapped strategically around the pole center stage.

 

Bills flew onto the stage from everywhere. She was a success. Jenner collected the bills and turned to exit the stage. Smiling genuinely, she thought, I expected to hook them and now I’m hooked!

 
 
 

By Wildfire8470
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© May 23, 2015 – 06:08 AM – All Rights Reserved
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Wrath Of An Irish Maiden

Wrath Of An Irish Maiden

 

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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 Nor’easter 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 meeee,” she wailed and sobbed, screaming at Mother Nature and any god who 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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Tags:  Cliffs of MoherFictionGriefInsanityIrelandIrish Legend, Loss,

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WiP, Wrath