You'll Save That For Mine

As I was working on the second edition of Make Mine a Heel I got to indulge in some of my favorite scenes. This one is top 5. Its their first and most fun fight.

Banner stopped the recording. “What was that?” She asked sharply.

Keith stared at her intently as if he had expected her reaction. “What was what?”  He asked deliberately.

“You cannot break out Ayn Rand on general American society. Do you realize how many people have no idea what ethical egoism is?” She actually put up quote marks with her hands as she said ‘ethical egoism’.

Keith became very still and disturbingly serious as his eyes never left Banner’s. “Yes I do.” The statement was as still as he was. He stopped long enough to let that sink in, and then continued, 

“You’ll take back the interview I give, or I’ll give no interview.”

Banner felt the hairs on her spine prickle as she began to understand what this was really about.  She needed to revise her game plan. Keith was going to make this a lot harder to dismiss than she had thought he was going to. Something else she was starting to understand that he knew before she even got here.

“Maybe we should eat first?” Banner supplied peaceably.

Keith nodded with a sharp cold smile as he uttered. “Maybe we should.”

He nodded at someone that Banner couldn’t see. A short dark haired girl appeared and once again Banner ceased to exist.

“Hi Keith, your usual?” she asked in a manner that suggested that perhaps she was part of his ‘usual’.

“Sorry darling, just the shake.” He said to her in a familiar tone.

She pouted and then turned razor dark brown eyes on Banner. “And what can I get you?”

Banner frowned. She hadn’t even looked at the menu. “The special.” She said quickly. It was her default in unfamiliar waters.

She paused and took one look at the storm brewing across from her. Just then she remembered the dull pain in her head.  In her mind the words, ‘fuck it’, were clear as a bell.  “And a Crown and coke.” She finished quickly.

Keith watched the cute little waitress leave and then focused all of his attention on Banner. “You didn’t strike me as the type to drink on the job.” He teased.

Banner was beyond being able to curb her thoughts anymore. Questioning her professional ethic was beyond reasonable. “I don’t have to when I like the job.” She snipped back.

“Are we not getting along Ms. Hemweigh?” His accent flared which let her know that his temper was up.

“Nowhere near. I suggest you stop picking at me until we are both more reasonable.” She advised sharply meeting his gaze unapologetically.

The look on his face said that the last thing he wanted to be with her was reasonable. “I thought I was being reasonable. You seem put out that I know big words.” He snapped back.

Banner sighed, here we go, she thought. In her best professional tone she started her spiel. “Mr. Daniels, it was not my intention to insult your intelligence, but I refuse to insult the intelligence of my audience.”

He nodded as he looked away from her for a moment. She could practically feel his teeth grinding. Then with a sharp tilt of his head she knew she was going to get what popped into his head anyway. The thought that had him grinding his teeth for self-control. “No, you’ll save that for mine.” He supplied.

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Make Mine a Heel 2nd Edition

In an effort to keep Fiona and Colan a little longer I decided to edit and release a 2nd edition of my first self-published ebook and historically top selling, Make Mine a Heel. As always when I dive back into the pages of this book nostalgia takes hold.  This time it was so refreshing as I expected such a mess of a story and saw that even then my voice had a cadence and a charm I hardly expect to see or read. I started critically and then I just fell back in love with Banner and Keith:

“You must hate me,” Banner whispered.

“Why would I hate you Bay? You’re at least here trying to understand.” His deep voice sounded solemn, humble. “That’s more than that jackass that knocked my mother up has ever even tried to do.”

The next thing she knew his hands were on her shoulders and she could feel his breath at her ear. “Yeah, we got off to a rocky start, but you’re here for the same reasons I am. We’ve done what we’ve done for basically the same reasons. I could never hate you.”

He turned her to look at him; the truth of it in his eyes. “Twice in your life?” she asked.

He gave a false smile with a joyless laugh. “I may have exaggerated a little.  I believe the last time I heard from the son of a bitch was him admonishing me for my career choice. With my size and athleticism I should’ve become a basketball player. Something people could respect.” He turned from her. “That was when I realized what a fool I’d been all my life. You tell yourself you’re doing something just to prove what you’re worth. It isn’t until much later do you actually admit who you’re trying to prove it to.” He admitted.

“Broke your heart,” she guessed.

Keith laughed. “A broken heart I could’ve dealt with. This was worse. It broke my spirit,” he shook his head gravely as he spoke. “I didn’t know which way was up anymore.” His voice turned gravelly as he spoke as strong emotions coursed with his words. “I had convinced myself in the deep dark parts of me that I never try and speak to that if I did good in this he would see what I was worth.” He stopped his face taking on this expression of mocking disbelief as he continued, “Finally he would come along. Be repentant, beg me to forgive him, and we could start fresh as I proved that I was worth his time. Now I would allow him to do the same.”

He sat again staring at the screen, the two men in the ring tumbling, twisting. The announcer was increasing his tone, his pitch to match the action. The crowd was screaming, yelling.   This was made all the more apparent by his stillness. His green eyes wide yet focused on the screen, almost innocent with shadows. For a moment Banner could see him as he had been when he fell in love with this sport. That young boy that hadn’t yet understood the whys and hows of life, but knew if he could chose it would be like what he saw.

“My foundation, my hopes and dreams were rocked and shattered. It was more devastating because I didn’t know until that very moment how much of what I had done and become was based on this perception. I had built everything on the idea that one day he would think I was worth his time.” He stared silently at the screen for a few moments after his wrenching speech.

Banner looked at the screen because his face was much too painful to look at. Then she just looked at the floor because watching what had made him choose what he had chosen was no better. She could see it. What a small boy would see; all the fans, the unconditional love, the affection. The absolute lines of right and wrong. Men hugging each other knowing that it was okay. It was the same things that made young boys play football or any other sport. Why boys joined the military. Why they joined gangs.  Always, they were just looking for a man strong enough to love them. They sacrificed everything only to wake up one day and realize that the only man that could do that for them is the one they become.

“My father, and I use that term loosely, is a waste of space,” he began his eyes never leaving the screen. “I was never going to matter to him. I was the fallout of a drunken night on a leave weekend from some Mexican whore that didn’t know any better. He was the son of a high ranking Navy Colonel and no way was the world going to know what he sired and with what. He considers my mother and our family mongrel beasts; nothing but poor hapless peasant stock. Had he known that I was being born he probably would’ve had it taken care of. As it was, my mother was much smarter than he ever figured. She used it to get into America. She made the ass pay child support and raised me to know all sides of myself. Not just the ones she was comfortable with. She planned it all out, right down to my name. Now I just know that the prick did a disservice to only himself. He missed out on an amazing woman.” He ended reverently.

“And a son,” Banner said softly.

“I think some things are hereditary. It took me a while to become the boy my mother tried to raise.”   He dropped his head. “The fallout from me was much worse than my father had ever wrecked.” He said dispassionately.

He wiped his face showing his exhaustion. “You’re right; I need a break. Didn’t realize it, but that took a lot out of me,” he gestured towards the TV. “Sit and watch for awhile?” he asked.

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Sergei

Clair was admiring her shoes in the mirror when she heard the loud insistent knocking on the door.  She jumped and then started over to it.  His knock wasn’t quite a cop-knocking because it wasn’t the pounding normally associated with cops, but it was only a few notches down from that.  Clair opened the door and there stood one of the most attractive men she had ever seen.  He certainly hadn’t looked this dapper when they had first met. 

Sergei stood on the other side of the door with a single rose held against his chest, which was covered in a dark blue linen shirt that made his ice blue eyes really pop.  The slacks were also a linen it seemed and in the same shade.  His hair, which he wore just a touch long, was combed over and parted on the side.  It was such a nerd thing to do and it was one of the cutest things Clair had ever seen.  He stood ramrod straight, almost military straight as he let his eyes roam over her.  Clean shaven, his angular jaw line and ridiculous cheekbones were put on display framing his full lips as he softly smiled at her, finally meeting her eyes.

“Good evening Clair.” He drawled smoothly.

For a split second as she stared into his eyes as he smiled down at her, his deep voice caressing her, Clair did something she had never done before.  She went completely blank, no thought would cross her mind as she stared into his eyes.  She felt her mouth open but no words came out.  And that was when panic had started to set in.  Blinking rapidly she stood in the door facing him as her jaw flapped without voicing anything at all. 

Sergei arched a brow at her seemingly enjoying her display.  Mercifully he asked, “Can I come in?”

The question registered and Clair solemnly nodded and stepped aside so he could do just that. As he passed her, the frozen ‘deer in headlights’ feeling she had started to fade.  What in the hell was that, she frantically asked herself.  I acted like a deaf mute for a second there, he’s not that hot!! She could feel the last thought actually being yelled in her mind.  With a deep breath and a concert smile she turned to the large man that was standing in her living room.

“Sorry about that.” She said briefly.

He shrugged casually. “About what, it’s a compliment to render a woman dumb, deaf and blind for a second.” He paused and thought about it some. “Or it’s very sad.” He frowned as he thought about the other end of that.

Other Posts on this book:

That Scene with Sergei and Clair

Sergei

Clair Fair

Love is Queen

So a Psychic and a Rocket Scientist Walk into a Bar

Grab your copy of So a Psychic and a Rocket Scientist Walk Into a Bar

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All The Parts

There are so many parts of us that should be seen to and kept

From the top of our heads to the tips of our toes with each aching breathe

The broad side of us against the narrow core of us

The breadth of us to the very shallow of us

All another piece that comes together to make the whole

From the memories we keep now and lose as we grow old

To the muscle that powers our moves

To the tissue that DNA provides and proves

So I must choose a keeper for my many parts

Is it possible to find just one to update so many charts

So one I choose to care for my body

With you thirst will be seen to whether pure or bawdy

Another I'll entrust with my mind to keep it young and fresh

Each day should be full of knowledge clean with wash and dress

So that leaves my heart for you to insure that it always beat

Fill my life with love that can be felt from head to feet

So that leaves just my soul that I can't seem to fit to a tutor

Perhaps that one is just for me to look after and succor

If there was just one keeper how idea would that be

Just one person to see to all the ends that make up me

It's a dream I can't fulfill, one that has no true match

So I'll try to see to the whole with one by one patch

But the thought always lingers that if there is but only one of me

And with all my parts gathered close to cause me to be

There must exist the other end that looks out with such disheart

Knowing that there must be one who can see to all the parts

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Opened Doors

"Don't you remember you told me you loved me baby." 

She hummed softly to the melody as the song blazed through the room.  Always she kept the stereo just too loud.  When it was just too loud, it drowned out all else. Even thought.  "Said you'd be coming' . . . But this song, reminded her of everything.

Like everyone else, she had heard the stories about the groupies, the women who follow and chase bands and celebrities.  She hadn't been one of those women.  She stretched her back at an awkward angle and continued the task of washing dishes in the sink that was never big enough.  In the kitchen that left her wanting for more, in the house that seemed to never hold enough space to be comfortable.  She stayed because it was hers, and no one else's.

"Baby, baby, ohhh, baby, I love you."

The floral skirt she was wearing dusted the floor, leaving only a sliver of her naked foot barren before toying with the hard tile.  As she swayed to the music it danced with her, gilding her moves like an echo, ruffling the air trying to remain still around.  The black tank she wore was nearly threadbare from repeated washings.  One of those items of clothing she would wear till it fell from her form.  As most of her clothes were. 

The tears came quickly, as they always did, not unexpected, they never were unexpected.  Most days saw at least one outburst of misery from her soul as it cried out the unfair fate that was forcing her to be so very strong.

The heartbreak wasn't a normal one.  She didn't cry from bitterness of being abandoned.  She cried for having tasted just enough joy to make her long for it for the rest of her life. He hadn't lied, never made one false promise.  So the song actually didn't fit her situation.  But it made it all the worse in truth. He hadn't cared enough to tell her pretty lies.  So unimportant to what he desired in the grand scheme of things she had been that he hadn't bothered to tell her anything.  Not a hello, not a goodbye.  No baby this, baby that, one day soons, or when I come back. Not a don't wait for me, we end here, this was a mistake, or never agains.

For six days and seven nights he had filled her with all that he was.  For three of those nights, she had held onto herself, the fourth she pretended that she was still whole, on the fifth she had stopped lying, and the sixth and seventh opened up another door.

As she discovered the real problem with opened doors wasn't in getting them open.  That had been almost too easy.  It was the closing that proved to give the fit.  Silly waitress in a bar was all she had been.  A foolish girl that had no idea of who he was.  No man had ever made her  . . .feel.  That was who he had become.  Nothing more, nothing less. 

More than just touch, words, expressions, the color of his eyes, the length of his hair.  She knew where he was in the room at all times, as he did with her.  The melting promise of joy would hum through her when she knew he was near.  Damn that opened door.

"Long ago. . ."

She didn't count how much time had passed in years, they seemed insufficient when the number was tallied. Instead she felt his absence in moments.  As the sun slid to rest.  Heavy footsteps approaching. The feel of freshly washed sheets.  Morning dew falling from leaves onto her skin.  Phrases that matched his cadence. Catching musky scents in the air.  Accidental contact with a stranger.  Fresh strawberries against her lips.  And songs bemoaning loving an entertainer.

What he had left was possibility without hope.  She didn't wonder if he would come for her, never dared dream that he still even thought of her.  He ruled her waking thoughts and dreaming nights. Soon it became insanity to pretend that this wasn't the case. She knew that this door in her was wide open now and oh so hard to fill.  A few brave had tried, only to be told, "That damned door only seems to be the right size for one man."

". . . .I thought it was you, it was only the radio."

The dishes were done, the kitchen finally clean.  The baby was sound asleep and the song filled the space.  She turned and held up her arms as if holding onto a partner.  With great confidence she began to move slowly to the soft strings of the song playing. Gazing upward fondly she smiled, sweetly, softly beautifully.  "I love being in your arms", she whispered to the sound pulsing air around her.

From Perilous Flight
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Needless to Say I'm Having a Bad Day

I reached out my hand and met only air

I suppose it would've been nice

If someone had cared enough to at least slap it away

But no I met only air

I dream of my bed, so very tired from the day

But I see myself there alone and drag my feet to it

I reached out me hand and met only air

I didn't understand the nature of loneliness

I thought it was only felt by the weak

Those who let themselves be taken advantage of

I reached out my hand and met only air

Even a slap, there some strong emotion in hate

Indifference leaves nothing, not even a breath

Dispassion leaves less than nothing, not a trace

I reached out my hand and met only air

Why isn't there someone there

I pray, I share, I give and I care

And still I reach out and only touch air

How have I landed here in this place?

My only comfort are books

My only companion plans

I live to go to work, there are people there

And if I close my eyes and pretend just right

I can just convince myself

If I disappeared they would care

I reached out my hand and met only air

I don't know how to fix this

So far gone I can't back out

So far gone I don't even know how to anymore

I have this spot, this place, the tower that I view all from

Never truly understood and never truly appreciated

What can it do for me, whispers in the back of my head

How can I use it to make me feel good

Circles in my mind

Maybe if I jump, it will all end

No one will catch me, no one would dare

And if they did they'd only use me

Always only use me, for what they want

Never give back, never really see me

Just what they want from me

It's so stupid, it just wants to make you happy

Make it love you and it will do whatever you want

You never have to give back, you never have to care

Just pretend, it'll believe you, it always believes you

Maybe if I jump the voices will stop,

Maybe if I jump, they will let me fall

I'll die with the truth

If nothing else, I'll have the truth

Maybe if I jump. . .what reason is there not to

To soft to love, to tough to hate

Maybe if I jump. . . . there will be someone on the other end

Maybe if I jump, .. someone will see me.

Maybe if I jump .. . love will be on the other end

Maybe if I jump . . . it won't matter anymore

I reached out my hand and only met air

Time to accept

This is all that will ever be there

From Perilous Flight

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From Your Disposable Baggage

I wish it was as easy for me as it has been for you, to pull away as if nothing that happened was real

To pretend that a person doesn't live, breathe, exist and feel

I wish it was as easy for me as it has been for you, to move on with life without a backwards glance

Not even caring that this thing you never really gave a chance

I wish it were as easy for me as it is for you, to ignore even the basics of courtesy and forgo basic compassion

To just toss aside another person and remain in style and fashion

I wish it were as easy for me as it still is for you, to pretend that I'm not there

I see now that because of you I'm going to learn how to stop being fair,

I'm going to understand how easy it is to just not care

I'm going to indulge in the game of making people disposable

I'm going to see the justice in being weak and pretending I'm not able

I'll show them how little they mean to me with my disregard

How unnecessary they are like dead leaves in the yard

I'll show the others what you've taught me

And their pain in being hurt I'll delight to see

For everyone will wear your face

And maybe when I've had my fill I'll regain my grace. 

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For Him

Like rose petals, falling away from the stem

Each layer reveals another thought of him

Before I succumb to despair I think

What a gift to have for just that moment

Whether more moments come or whether I am to be denied

What a gift it was for the brief time it thrived

Things I never believed in and was hesitant to guess

Were shown to me without the normal trials of duress

I wonder, was it truly him or my idea of him that made this so

Was it just a nudge to know the ways things could go

Maybe a hint at what I could share with another to come

Or was it meant to be savored and seen to till done

What expressive eyes, telling too much and not enough

What a charming candor that is too pleasant to be rough

What a confounding mix of the things that matter to me most

What a pleasant surprise that was this familiar haunting ghost

You want to be free of me, that I can understand

The trials of my present unacceptable for a good man

If only I had met you first, where would we be now

Things go as they should, regardless of how

Thank you for your time, for showing me moments to never forget

Until my dying day the memories will remain and never relent

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Perpetual Bliss

In states of heightened awareness I see where I am

In those shadows and layers I know what to do

Before I turn the corner the slightest flicker catches my gaze

I’m always wanting, wanting, wanting

In places beyond my grasp I flow with the rhythm

In voices that don't speak my language I catch what I can

Before I answer the call I can hear coming, I relent

I'm constantly wanting, always wanting, wanting

Intrepid with indecisive ambiguity

Frozen by tempestuous allegory

I'm continuously wanting, constantly wanting, always wanting

Turgid with growing anxiety

Catatonic from pending despair

My faith holds out, for more than I can bear

I'm always, constantly, continuously wanting, wanting, wanting

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Tempting Fate

Winding wheels of time do turn

the grinding halt of lessons learned

Why do I feel the need to explore

The burn of touch, a desire for more

Didn't pain teach you anything

The vacant spot where you once wore a ring

Why do I seek this out

That voice that takes away my doubt

Didn't love leave you flat

Nothing but wind and sorrow in your hat

Grinding gears and twisting tide

I run to the front when I just want to hide

Too much, too soon, too fast, too . . . .good

Too good, is  . . .there really . . . . such a thing?

From Perilous Flight


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Freedom

Freedom is a myth they say.  A dream that haunts and never sees the light of day.

Freedom is a lie I’ve heard.  Just another concept that turns out to be only a word

Freedom is a trap I believe.  No one can just get up and leave.

Freedom is beyond our reach I think. The last thought that a person has before they sink.

Freedom is a foolish wish I'm told.  Like hunting for treasure when their's only fool's gold

Is a prayer that never gets answered

A prophecy that remains unfulfilled

Freedom. ..... Freedom

A cry from a desperate part of the human soul

A prize that can be dreamed and not held

A farce without a funny bone

Freedom . . ...Freedom

A path that has no end

Freedom  .. . ... .Freedom

A life unlived

Freedom . . ... .Freedom

A goal without thought

My dream, my path, my farce, my prophecy, my trap, my wish, my cry, my goal, my myth, my lie, my thought, my prize, my prayer, my love, my life.

Freedom is my life

I pursue, I maintain, I endure,

Reachingly, crave, longingly, desire, fulfillment, lasting, tolerance

Feeling diligently awakening ripping piercing raging hollowed hell

pulling within

I hear the cry, thrill shriek of truth calling.. . you . . .the words so clear, words I long to hear.. . . have. . . .desperate to know, so afraid to know. ... it.

The truth unveils itself like petals .. you . .. flowers growing . . .have . . .in the abyss . . .it. . .. .nothing grows here

Too much pain  . .. .you. . . ..to give new life  . . . .have . . . .can't be . . . .it

Improbable, could it . . .you  .. .have .. . be .  . . ..it. . . . . . true

you .. .have . .. .it

you have it.

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The Stages of Woman

Our mothers they teach us to be who they are and as penance we lose our first love

Our friends beseech us to act as they desire and for this we lose our next love

Our loneliness forces us to discover that we can only be what we are and within find our last love

As we stop craving the love of those that crave only our pain.  As we stop seeking that for which only wants to give us our fondest desire of being destroyed. Fascination with being put out of our misery begins to fade.

As we finally look within for what cannot be found without. As we finally look within to the cradle of the truest deception.  The whispers are clear and ever growing louder as we face what all have tried to hide.

Who said that I was flawed, who claimed that I was without.  So hard to believe that they didn't deserve you, much easier to believe that you are the problem.

You only get back what you put out.

Have I, all this time been the maker of my own pain.  Have I, just now begun to realize that I am worth so much more than they say. worth so much more than I say.

so much more than they say, so much more than I say, more than they say, more than I say, than they say, than I say, they say, I say

I say,  I am a woman, I say I am worth so much more than you will ever know, I say that I hold all of who I am, while you hold none. I am strong enough to yield and fierce enough to give, I am hardy so I will stand and I am confident so I will rise to any challenge. 

I am. . . .power. .  I am. . . .joy . . . . .peace. . . . . I am. . weakness  I am. . .undeniable . . boundless . .  I am force. . truth. .  submission . . .decadence. .  I am . . .malleable . . .distraction. . I am  absolution . . mystery. . . .I am. . . .temptation . . . . .rejuvenation . . .exaltation . .  I . . .loyalty . . . .am. . . .reckless. . . .imperfect. . . .I . . . . love . . . . human . . . am. . destruction  . . .rebirth .  . .life. . . .

I           am        flawed.

From Perilous Flight

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Not Broken

I told myself that you weren’t broken

I hardly could believe the words were spoken

In my time, my pain I can still feel the truth

Even though there doesn’t seem to be one ounce of proof

My heart, speaks over my mind

It tells the story of love being blind

It has not prejudices no flaws are too great

There is no word that will spur these feeling to hate

Jealously disguises itself as love

Envy tags on and pretends it’s from above

Judgment comes and fills the world with its pain

Even lust wears love as if it were its name

I have fallen to each and carried their flag with no shame

I have let them whisper their designs and submit me to their game

I have torn down my own honor, my dignity and moral code

I strolled down the roads that pride and arrogance foretold

As I pull myself from the depths of their treachery

I see clearly that my love has carried no heresy

I have not denied the feelings God blessed me to have and give

I have not forsworn my love as false thus it will forever live

So as I say that you are not broken I know that it is just

I let my love guide my hand to declare till I am dust

As long as there is breath in me, my love will not dissipate

Whether for a year or 20 a part of me will always wait

Mayhap one day I’ll pass you on the street

Mayhap that day you and I will truly meet

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My Fate, My Destiny

I hold my fate in one hand and my destiny in the other. 

I reach across the plain to drop one to find that neither will let go.

I reach across the sky to release one in the wind and realize that I cannot let go.

My fate stares boldly back at me from the base of my right palm.

My destiny laughs as it watches the play from its place in the base of my left palm.

They know a secret to this place that I have yet to discover.

They taunt me from their vantage point holding their own favor.

I hold my Fate, the words vibrate, in my mind

I hold my Destiny, the words resonate, through my heart

In one hand and the other, floods my soul

My Fate, nothing is ever promised

My Destiny, nothing is ever gained

In one hand, I know the way to go

And the other, I’ve always known the way.

My, how long have I run from myself

My, how often have I avoided my own face

In, so many ways the road is revealed

And, carelessly I have chosen to stray away

I hold my Fate, in this hand as I close it into a fist

I hold my Destiny in this other hand I now close into a fist

I own, My Fate, I own, My Destiny.

Opening, I rub my palms together.

Now they are as all parts of me,

One . . and . . . the same.

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The Unnatural State of True Love

The best of us from the worst of us, cacophony and symphony, as heralds heckle and jeer, as heralds praise and cheer. Walk with me down the slippery slope of a path unknown to find solace in a peaceful word. I know as you know its comfort is false and temporary, like holding the kite as lightning strikes. Yet you stand, to ashamed to run, to fearful to embrace. God I see so much of what I love in that face.

Tearing, pulling, shredding, holding, kissing, missing, sharing.

Please be real, I beg and plead . . . please be real, I have to believe. . . . PLEASE BE REAL, there are no words. I couldn't know . .I couldn't . . . .deserve. I shouldn't know. . . . I shouldn't. . . . . deserve.

The voice in the back of your head is your heart pleading 'Don't fight me anymore', 'Don't resist, take what you want'. The mind insists, 'This feels wrong'. Everything in me is Dying, 'dying', "dying".

The quiet whispers, 'Is this right, am I right.'
The darkness chimes, 'How did I miss, so much'
The light shouts 'How did I see, so little'

Like sunrise, like a storm, like water on your face, this place, the fields and the oceans, the air and your soul heat and breathe new life

Like fingers shifting apart gossamer the wind says, 'Let's do that again'.
Wrapping its stroke around you it coyly beckons, 'Take this trip with me.'

From Perilous Flight
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Make Mine a Heel Teaser

Banner sat straight up out of a dead sleep for no reason what so ever. She had her notepad and pen in hand; nothing new for her. Distractedly she dropped the pen and notepad, and reached into her purse to check her phone to set her alarm. 2:22 AM in the morning. She yawned, and got up to head to the bathroom. On the way back she heard noise coming from the viewing room. Not really thinking it through Banner headed for the door. At the door she heard the sound of muffled chatter. Confused she pushed the door open, and stepped into the room.

Keith was standing there pacing in front of the television. He was barefoot, and wearing a white wife beater with a pair of solid dark lounge pants. Staring blankly at the television he just continued walking back and forth.

“Keith, what are you doing up?” Banner asked before she could stop herself.

His eyes snapped to her, and stayed for a moment. Without looking away he paused the DVD that was playing. “Distracting myself. The real question is what are you doing up?” He started over towards her.

Banner told herself to move, but nothing happened. She just stared up into his dark green eyes as he moved closer to her. The next thing she knew he was looming over her just staring at her face. She could feel each part of her that his eyes glanced over. They started at her forehead, and then traveled over her cheekbones. Then her nose, her lips, her chin, and back up to her lips.

“I don’t have to tell you that you’re beautiful do I; you must know. Have to know.” His voice was low, and Banner stared up at him blankly. Her mind was dull not really processing what he was saying. His tone of voice was almost mesmerizing.

“I was hoping that you were sound asleep. I was for a few moments; my mind started to wonder. Then I started to dream. This ridiculous fantasy. . . I swear I’ve never . . .”, he fairly whispered, and stopped as if he said too much. “It made me. . curious.” His eyes swept her face again stopping at her lips. “I should’ve fought my mother, and gotten you out of arms reach.”

Something about the way he said the last made Banner put her hands against his chest. The intent was to push him away, but she felt the solid warmth of him, and forgot what she was going to do. The heat of his skin was almost burning, and solid as stone. As she stood there staring at her hands on his chest he moved closer. She could feel the heat of his face as he pushed his nose into her hair. His breath was on her cheek teasing her ear. Banner took a deep breath and slightly shuddered as her nails dug into his chest which offered no give whatsoever.

She tried to pull back finally, but it was too late. His hands were cupping her elbows holding her with no force she could feel, but she couldn’t pull away. Her eyes slid closed as she felt his lips softly brushing her cheek. Her nails dug into fabric as he pulled her closer bringing her body nearly flush with his. His lips roamed over her face like feathers against her skin. He brushed over her lips sweetly, and she gasped. Never had anyone touched her with that type of tenderness. She didn’t really think men were capable of such a thing.

The gasp caused him to press his lips to hers. They held like this for a moment, and she could feel the tip of his tongue brush her closed lips teasing the seam. Her back arched as he took one hand, and placed it at the small of it pushing in. Her lips parted letting him slowly push past them.

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Always w/love,
Sue

The Stages of Woman

Our mothers they teach us to be who they are and as penance we lose our first love

Our friends beseech us to act as they desire and for this we lose our next love

Our loneliness forces us to discover that we can only be what we are and within find our last love

As we stop craving the love of those that crave only our pain.  As we stop seeking that for which only wants to give us our fondest desire of being destroyed. Fascination with being put out of our misery begins to fade.

As we finally look within for what cannot be found without. As we finally look within to the cradle of the truest deception.  The whispers are clear and ever growing louder as we face what all have tried to hide.

Who said that I was flawed, who claimed that I was without.

So hard to believe that they didn't deserve you, much easier to believe that you are the problem.

You only get back what you put out.

Have I, all this time been the maker of my own pain.  Have I, just now begun to realize that I am worth so much more than they say. worth so much more than I say.

so much more than they say, so much more than I say, more than they say, more than I say, than they say, than I say, they say, I say

I say,  I am a woman, I say I am worth so much more than you will ever know, I say that I hold all of who I am, while you hold none. I am strong enough to yield and fierce enough to give, I am hardy so I will stand and I am confident so I will rise to any challenge.

I am. . . .power. .  I am. . . .joy . . . . .peace. . . . . I am. . weakness  I am. . .undeniable . . boundless . .  I am force. . truth. .  submission . . .decadence. .  I am . . .malleable . . .distraction. . I am  absolution . . mystery. . . .I am. . . .temptation . . . . .rejuvenation . . .exaltation . .  I . . .loyalty . . . .am. . . .reckless. . . .imperfect. . . .I . . . . love . . . . human . . . am. . destruction  . . .rebirth .  . .life. . . .
I     am    flawed.

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Perspective Bluff: The Leading Lady

I am a bit of a sociology buff.  It's one of those social sciences that I feel very connected to mostly because it's the study of society which is a construct made by us.  People.  So I read lots of sociology blogs and textbooks because I find the study of us rather fascinating.  Recently I've decided to embark on another odyssey besides romance novels.  I also would like to write self-help books for those members of society that would like to free themselves from the constraints of society which would benefit everyone overall.  My self help series will be about women and some of the common perception traps we often find ourselves in.  So here is a little sample of what I would like to confront.  We'll call this segment the leading lady.

A couple of weeks ago I was watching this romantic comedy called Just Wright starring Queen Latifah and Common.  Most days of the week you'll catch me watching some action or super hero movie.  It's just what I prefer.  There was nothing else on, and the part of the movie I chimed in on intrigued me because I've always felt like no one has ever dealt with this aspect of female socialization.  The aspect I'm talking about is the 'professional athlete wife’.  This movie confronted the common perception issues most people have with this designation of society.  It is a one sided account so while it was not very flattering to the image of the professional athlete wife it did show some deeper thought and intelligence directed towards the professional athlete.

The character development for the movie was pretty standardized. If you picture in your mind what the wife of a professional athlete should look like she is usually of a certain weight, height, hair color or texture and sometimes a certain ethnicity. She is what Hollywood would refer to as 'The Leading Lady’.  The leading lady is a concept that leads into certain beliefs about a woman and her worth in the world. Through her portrayal in the media the average person begins to believe that only certain types of women deserve to be treated well. A man should only fall in love with a specific type of woman. She should have certain types of friends, and participate in certain activities.  She should always dress a certain way, and she should always be perceived as the height of feminine beauty.  The Venus Di Milo if we are being specific. The movie has this fascinating scene during a game where the two female characters that will ultimately vie for the attention of the male lead are facing the wives of the athletes.  It was this stark cookie cutter scene where there were rows of women who physically looked nearly identical.

The brilliance of this movie was that the actual leading lady was Queen Latifah who by all standards has never fit into the so called 'leading lady' role.  At several times during the movie I myself questioned why she was cast as she was.  The story itself was a paradox as I found myself thinking about how implausible it would be for a professional athlete to even consider a relationship with someone who didn’t fit the standard. This even slight wondering on my part was quite an epiphany for me because I usually don't prescribe to these pre-conceived notions.  Then I had to acknowledge how invasive and brainwashing media can be.  Even though I knew that this was not such an odd occurrence and should in fact be seen more and not less, something niggled at me saying that this woman wasn't the woman that belonged in this situation.  She didn't have the right qualities to be loved by this type of man, and she shouldn’t be the focal point of this movie.  This was all based on her physical appearance alone as the movie was full of women that did fit that very narrow ‘leading lady’ designation.  But it was that setting that made the absurdity of it my thoughts so apparent.

What it made me realize is how victimized American culture is by the mandates prescribed by our media.  Women hate themselves for not being what media tells them to be, and men actively support it.  However this point is in all respects. While it seems that one end has it better than the other end, what is thought of an unconventionally attractive woman who endeavors to expound upon her beauty as opposed to a conventionally attractive one who attempts to hide it. This aspect of fitting in becomes a value system for self worth and societal standing.  The rating system wants to know how well you fit in, and the system is set up to punish those who do not conform. Consider what happens to an Amish who falls into prideful ways.  In many respects society seeks to do this to those who don’t conform, thus the many societal subcultures.

The irony of this was presented so very clearly in the movie as the standard ‘pro athlete woman’ was in fact a gold digger who didn't care about the man or the sport he played.  She cared about the status symbol he would become in her life and the exalted status that she would enjoy as his wife.  While this is an unfair assumption to place onto most of these women, how many of them have carefully cultivated that look so that this goal can be achieved? It was the believability of it that was the most startling as women do sometimes see each other as either a scheming gold digger or not. We limit what the other is capable of because of it. But in regards to the professional male athlete isn’t this type of wife a statement of the same value system? Even though the female lead actually had more in common with the male lead, when faced with a conversation with each of them he chooses the gold digger instinctively understanding that this was the proper woman to be with thus solidifying his place in the system. This is how he fits in and thus reaffirms his self worth.

The key to society working is the understanding of each other and the value inherit to certain aspects of humanity.  The world is growing more caustic by the day towards ideas of true charity and service because of establishing ideas of glamour and excess. Instead of correlating societal value to service, dignity, compassion, empathy and care, value is given to avarice, vainglory, and idolatry. The system is in place, and it is not a faulty system.  However the accepted qualities and designations of fitting in desperately need to be reworked. 

The Stages of Woman - An Excerpt from Perilous Flight

Our mothers they teach us to be who they are and as penance we lose our first love

Our friends beseech us to act as they desire and for this we lose our next love

Our loneliness forces us to discover that we can only be what we are and within find our last love

As we stop craving the love of those that crave only our pain.  As we stop seeking that for which only wants to give us our fondest desire of being destroyed. Fascination with being put out of our misery begins to fade.

As we finally look within for what cannot be found without. As we finally look within to the cradle of the truest deception.  The whispers are clear and ever growing louder as we face what all have tried to hide.

Who said that I was flawed, who claimed that I was without. 

So hard to believe that they didn't deserve you, much easier to believe that you are the problem.

You only get back what you put out.

Have I, all this time been the maker of my own pain.  Have I, just now begun to realize that I am worth so much more than they say. worth so much more than I say.

so much more than they say, so much more than I say, more than they say, more than I say, than they say, than I say, they say, I say

I say,  I am a woman, I say I am worth so much more than you will ever know, I say that I hold all of who I am, while you hold none. I am strong enough to yield and fierce enough to give, I am hardy so I will stand and I am confident so I will rise to any challenge. 

I am. . . .power. .  I am. . . .joy . . . . .peace. . . . . I am. . weakness  I am. . .undeniable . . boundless . .  I am force. . truth. .  submission . . .decadence. .  I am . . .malleable . . .distraction. . I am  absolution . . mystery. . . .I am. . . .temptation . . . . .rejuvenation . . .exaltation . .  I . . .loyalty . . . .am. . . .reckless. . . .imperfect. . . .I . . . . love . . . . human . . . am. . destruction  . . .rebirth .  . .life. . . .
I     am    flawed.

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