Monthly Archives: February 2012

A Poem

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your tower on the horizon,

lit

and our worlds – spinning,

spinning, spinning, spinning,

 

spinning around

and up and down

and behind and above

and below,

 

spinning on and on

and before and beyond

 

always spinning

 

until we collide

and combust

and split in two,

 

just to form

something new

 

on the horizon it sits

in the dusty morn

and the gathering gloom

like a beacon

your tower on the horizon,

lit

 

above it all,

but still on the ground

 

and the metaphors keep spilling

and running

and turning

and changing

and evolving

 

and staying the same

 

always the same

 

in the still evening

and in the bright sun

the shadows dance

below your tower

and no one knows

but us

how the worlds keep spinning,

 

spinning, spinning, spinning,

spinning around and around

and up and away

and down and inside

behind and above

on and on

before

beyond

 

and we’re the only ones who know

 

who’s going to let go

 

and it won’t be you

and it shan’t be me

but the spinning -

it clears the room

it clears the horizon,

from the gathering gloom

and the stars dance

as the worlds collide

as we burst into flames

immortal…

The Dart Story

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Okay, so I was kind of telling this story the other night, but I was outside and it was raining, and I was getting wet, and we all know that I’m too sweet to get rained on – I’ll just melt. Or something like that.

Whatever. Stop laughing! It could happen.

Hey! I am too a nice person! Yuh huh!

Well, okay.  Most of the time.

Anyways, I thought I’d just post it here because you might find it mildly entertaining. So, without further ado, here’s The Dart Story:

I had just started dating Rugby Boy, and…well, let’s just say that Rugby Boy was the type to really need to show people (especially women) who the “real” man in the room was. So, we go out to the local bar one evening with one of his roommates. We had every intention of playing a game of pool, but all the tables were taken, so we lined up a game of darts.

Now, aside from just casually tossing darts at a board, I’d never played a game in my life. It is worth  mentioning, though, that I tend to have an aim similar to Annie Oakley (unless of course it’s 30 degrees outside and I’m shooting my monster revolver, then I’m shooting someone’s hat off of their head. Doesn’t matter). I joke that if it can be loaded with some sort of ammo or projectile, I’m hitting the target and causing some decent damage – even if it is high and to the right. Again: does. not. matter.

So, you can guess what happened when I started throwing darts. Yep. Bullseye. Pretty much right off the bat. Then I started hitting the numbers as I should and doing pretty well.  In short, I gave him a very decent run for his money and it was pissing him off.  He started talking smack, trying to make me feel guilty for doing well, he even tried to taunt me and distract me from throwing some decent shots.

In the end, Rugby Boy blamed it on “beginner’s luck.”  He would never shoot darts with me again, though. Just in case.

eBook GIVE AWAY!!!!

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Howdy y’all! (Yes, I’m Texan; get over it)

For today and tomorrow only, snag TRANSMISSIONS FROM DATING LAND absolutely free from Amazon.com!!

That’s right! For a whopping ZERO smackeroos, you can snag Transmissions for yourself.  So, I suppose I’m not “giving it away,” per se, but I AM selling it for free for a couple of days, so take advantage of it while you can!

Also, if you’re wanting a print version, it’ll be out and on sale on Amazon VERY soon.  Enjoy!!

Another Character Comes Out to Play

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The other day, Jesse, my slightly misanthropic cowboy from my (as yet) untitled steampunk series, came out to play.  You remember Angel? Well, she’s not going to know how to deal with Jesse when he arrives on the scene. This should get interesting. Enjoy this little story that Jesse shared with me…

******

Jesse’s Story

You pull the trigger, and the gun jumps in your hand. If it’s a smooth piece, it doesn’t recoil too hard. My Colt .45 is like that. It’s been oiled, rubbed, and shot so many times that a piece of lead can rip through the barrel without you noticing much.

The smell of gunpowder wafts through the air and I breathe it in. I know this smell, like I know my own smell. I’ve smelled it too many times not to confuse the two every now and then.

The hole in Al’s chest smoked, and for a brief moment, he looked at me in a combination of shock and horror, trying to figure out how the bullet got there so fast. I reckon he shouldn’t have tried to cheat me. He slumped in his chair and his chin slowly sunk down onto his chest.

“Dammit, Jesse!” the bartender yelled at me. “You gone and messed my wall up again.”

He wouldn’t argue with me over killing Al; he knew he’d cheated me, but he never liked it when I settled a fight that left a mark on his fine establishment.

I tossed a few bills on the bar and nodded. It was more than enough to cover the cost of repainting the corner. He nodded back at me and slipped the bills into his vest before very many of the others saw what had happened. I turned for the door just as Anna, a whore as gorgeous as she was stupid, rushed up to me.

“Where y’ goin’, Jess?” she breathed. Her words smelled like bad whiskey.

“I reckon I’m headin’ east,” I answered and shrugged out from her grasp.

“Take me with you?” she begged.

I couldn’t help but smile. I shook my head. “Not a chance, darlin’,” I answered and turned my back on her and the town.

There was more out in the world than this place, struggling to hang onto a piece of the past that had long since expired. I figured I ought to go out and find it.

*****

More characters to come!