Probably, but I can't help it. I love to write and read. If you all are smart enough, then you figured out that I don't have much of a life. Sad, but true.
Being blind, it's hard to find someone and then there's all that relationship stuff that you need a manual to study. i will tell you as a guy, Thomas, not Willow May, my pen. She doesn't have much of a life either. That's the good part. Since we don't have a life, Willow and I can make up one and escape into it. I can tell you my imagined life is so much better than my reality. In my world, my hero always gets lucky.
We don't do bars; the girls at church scare me; and those you find at the grocery store are only good for what goes with eggplant! But in my stories, my hero eyeballs his dream girl across the room. So much can be said in a glance and so much can be implied with a raised brow.
That is why this blind guy wears sunglasses. Well, yes, they make me look and feel cool, but they offer me protection from offending anyone who thinks I am staring. I digress.
Writing and reading allows me to learn about the world around us without leaving the couch. And sometimes, I will actually learn something.
Good news! Dragon Shifter is nearly ready for publication, and here is a little sample of what's to come.
She was not a stupid child, despite how her behavior seemed to others. Dana Summers knew instinctively that love was what men said when they actually meant sex. She knew that hard lesson by experience. The cruelties and lies of men changed her from one extreme to another. Did she ever have control over her life?
In the beginning, her heart ruled her actions. Her innocence, her cherry, and her youth were sacrificed to satisfy the men’s baser natures, mainly lust.
The sixteen year old sighed as she stared out at the passing scenery. She could not really see anything outside the window, for it was nighttime. What she actually saw was her reflection from the dashboard lights. The ghostly image looked into the darkness of her soul.
At least in the beginning, she thought she knew what being “in love” was all about. She read Cosmo and watched Sally Jessie Raphael.
Who was she kidding; her reflected image furrowed her eyebrows. Her cute button nose scrunched up at her confusion. She rested her chin in the palm of her hand as her stare unfocused itself out of the old Dodge pickup truck.
After an infinity of sighs, the blonde checked herself in the reflection before leaning back into the seat. She tried to ignore the coil springs stabbing her buttocks as she cut her eyes towards the man driving the beat up truck. He was her mother’s boyfriend and that made him a suspect.
It was her own lusts for this gorgeous man with his honey brown hair; he wore it a little longer than most Texans. However, it was those rich blue eyes that mesmerized her. She thought they penetrated her very soul. It was when he smiled that Dana knew she would do anything he asked of her, including taking off all of her clothes.
Dana sighed and looked back at her reflection in the window. Hank was not her first, nor would he be her last.
He was no different from any of momma’s other boyfriends. When he spent the night with her momma, he would rise early and find her in the kitchen. Just the way she planned it. Men were so easily manipulated.
Dana had to do all the cooking, since Momma was indifferent to eating. Her momma was constantly on some diet. Dana had read in Cosmo, the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. All she had to do to attract her momma’s boyfriends was to fry bacon.
It was uncanny how quickly they responded to the smell of bacon.
She let them play their little game of seduction, but in reality, she was the master of the game. The game would begin when he stepped up behind her and mold his body against her well developed frame. His hands found her C cup breasts and gently massaged them, while he nuzzled her neck. She could feel him stiffen and felt a warm flush from the top of her yellow gold hair down to the tips of her painted toes.
“If you’re not careful Momma’s gonna catch you,” Dana warned.
“I ain’t worried,” Hank declared. “I could take her in three rounds. Besides, she’s still fast asleep.”
Dana forgot the bacon frying on the stove. She turned around in his arms and snuggled closer.
“So, when are you gonna fuck me?” Dana lowered her eyelids and pumped her hips against his erection. The gesture provoked a growl from inside Hank’s broad chest. She stepped away from the stove and easily let her cutoff jean shorts fall to the kitchen floor. When Hank realized she was not wearing any panties, a deeper throated growl vibrated throughout his body as his hands squeezed her firm naked butt. Her hands pushed down his gym shorts and his erection sprang into life.
“Stop that,” Hank said half hearted. He backed off. “I hate fast women,” Hank complained.
“So, I got to play the submissive?” Dana complained as she pulled up her blue jeans shorts.
“No.”Hank leaned against the other counter with his arms crossed over his chest. Those beautiful blue eyes stared right through Dana’s defenses without a second glance.
She felt like a little sparrow caught in the snake’s trance-like stare. She fought hard to break the hold he had on her. She went over to the sink and turned on the cold water faucet. She shoved her hands under the cold water. She had learned early that to cool her flaming libido, she needed ice water. The desire never left her body, but settled it down to a manageable simmer.
Hank came back over to try and comfort the girl, but she shook him off and poured herself a cup of coffee. She walked around him and sat down at the kitchen table. He followed her example and sat down opposite her. She kept her eyes directed into her coffee cup, but she could feel his stare. She admitted Hank was more sincere than the others, but in the end, they were all the same.
“What’s wrong, baby girl?” He asked. He got no answer.
She continued to stare into her cup.
When her emotions settled down, she sipped her coffee and looked up into Hank’s eyes.
“When Momma was dating a biker, I was about thirteen years old.” She paused to make sure she was ready to talk about this part of her life. “He would come over and they would party, but Momma couldn’t hold her liquor and when she passed out, he would come looking for me.” She smiled up at Hank and continued. “He threatened to kill Momma if I didn’t submit to him. If I tattled, he would hurt Momma.
“At first, he was gentle when he broke my cherry, but when he and Momma fought, he would take out his aggravations on me. In the beginning, he used his belt, then he would force me to suck him off, and then he would fuck me in the ass.” Dana was going for the shock effect and it worked. Hank’s expression was what she expected. His expression widened with incredulity; his mouth hung opened, and his face turned pale. She laughed at him. “And that was what he called soft porn. He would urinate on me, fucked me until I bled, and made me get two abortions by a back alley crack head.”
“Oh my god, my poor baby girl,” Hank said pitifully.
“The funny part about it, Momma was oblivious to it all or else she just ignored it. She wasn’t blind. She had to know her boyfriends would just as soon fuck me than her.” She lowered her head and returned her gaze to the coffee cup.
The kitchen was silent for a long time before she looked back up at Hank.
“What really scares me, I’m starting to enjoy the abuse to the point where it’s like an addiction.” She had made the confession into her cup, so she only heard his chair scrape the kitchen floor, and then felt his warmth as he knelt next to her. He took one of her hands and pressed it against his lips.
“How about you and me take a little trip to New Orleans?”
“Us?” Dana felt her ordinary brown eyes widen at his suggestion. She was scared and thrilled all at the same time. She thought she would pee in her shorts.
“What about Momma?”
Hank just shrugged.
“Well, I won’t tell, if you don’t?” he asked with a smirk. “It was her suggestion we get better acquainted.”
Dana was immediately suspicious. It had to be some kind of trick. Since when was Momma ever that thoughtful. In fact, it was probably the last thing she wanted.
Dana was already intimately acquainted with most of her boyfriends.
She pushed Hank back on his heels. She walked over to the stove and turned it back on and continued frying the bacon.
“I don’t believe you,” she said. Even to her ears, she sounded like a wimpy little child. She felt his presence up against her, but she would not allow her body to respond.
“I want to fuck you down in New Orleans,” his breathless voice whispered, as it tickled her ear. His hands found her breasts again. “I’ll buy you some good old Cajun cuisine, listen to some jazz, and stay in a hotel with room service. So that way, we don’t have to get out of bed to eat.”
Dana’s body betrayed her. Once again, her butt wiggled against his erection. This time, when her shorts slipped to the floor, his shorts did the same.
Dana blushed at the memory and looked out her window. She was completely naked on the counter when the fire alarm went off. She had forgotten to take the bacon off the stove and now, they were burnt to a delicate crisp. She smiled.
It felt like the next few minutes were taken from Saturday Night Live. They scrambled to get their shorts on and realized they were putting on each other’s shorts. They couldn’t help but laugh. After trading shorts, Hank went for the alarm, twisted it off, and shoved it into a drawer. Meanwhile, Dana turned off the stove and started scraping the burnt bacon into the disposal.
It was at that moment, Momma walked into the kitchen, rubbing sleep out of her eyes and sniffing the air.
“What the hell is going on out here?” She demanded.
“Nothing.” Hank and Dana said in unison.
Dana looked at her Momma out of the corner of her eye. She had been beautiful a long time ago. It was the liquor and all the other abuses that made her less desirable than her daughter. Her blonde hair was stringy, her boobs sagged, but it was her beer belly that stood out for all to see.
Dana looked over at Hank, who was trying hard not to look guilty. Dana kept her back to Momma and focused on cleaning the frying pan.
Momma stood with her fists on her hips and looked with narrowed eyelids.
“I distinctly heard the fire alarm go off.”
Dana watched Hank out of the corner of her eye. He shrugged as he lifted a cup of cold coffee to his lips. She knew it to be cold, because she had poured it for him fifteen minutes ago.
“Do you want some coffee, Momma?” Dana asked as innocently as she could manage.
“No,” Momma said as she eyeballed both of them. She wore her wife beater as bed clothes. Her blonde hair was still tangled. “I’m going back to bed. Alone.” She seemed to be annoyed, but said nothing else. Without another word, she turned and left the kitchen. They waited for the bedroom door to close.
A bump in the road brought Dana back to the present moment. She smiled at the memory. She studied Hank out of the corner of her eye.
Damn, but he was a good looking man. He caught her staring and grinned. She felt warmth wash over her and between her legs. She turned back to stare out of her window.
One minute, Dana was watching the Texas countryside pass by with regular monotony and the next minute, Hank was shaking her awake.
“Wake up sleepy head, we’re here.” Hank sounded tired. Dana knew it was a long trip, but he wouldn’t allow her to drive some of the way.
“It’s not like I don’t trust you,” he had said. He hesitated when he looked over at her. “It’s just us Texacans don’t let anyone drive our trucks.”
Dana should have begun to smell a rat, but the lights of New Orleans caught her eye and her attention. They went through a Poor Boy drive thru window and Hank bought them a Poor Boy crayfish sandwich and seasoned fries. “Where are we going now,” Dana said around a mouthful of fries.
“I’m tired,” Hank said as he turned his truck onto Mary Street. They rode on through the back streets until they stopped in front of a rundown looking motel. Hank turned off the truck. They sat there and listened to the motor tic.
“Let me go in and register us.”
“Can’t I come in with you?” Dana asked plaintively.
“No,” he said harshly. “It won’t look right for a grown man and a minor going into a motel. It’s just not done, even in New Orleans.” Hank opened his door and got out. “Just sit tight. I won’t be long.”
The slamming door sounded foreboding. Then, the truck chirped. He had set the car alarm.
Why would he do that? Dana wondered. Her straw began to suck air as she thought about it. They were in a strange town and it was three thirty in the morning. She relaxed a little. The feelings of being locked in the truck faded a little. She felt a little better that he was thinking of her sitting out here alone in the middle of the murder capital of the country.
Dana rolled down her window and listened to the lonely wind rustling the leaves in the trees lining the street. The motel’s sign creaked in the breeze as it swung back and forth. Dana could barely make out the faded lettering, but the sign had a picture of a cat poking its head out of a box. The Lettering read, Cat in the Cradle.
What a strange name for a motel, she thought. The clock radio read three fifty-five. How long does it take to fill out a registration card? As if on cue, Hank came out of the front entrance smiling.
“Why are you so happy?” She asked.
“No reason,” he said shrugging. “I’m just happy we can finally sleep together.”
Dana became uneasy. She could not put her finger on it, but he was up to something and it made her uneasy.
Hank pulled the truck along the side of the motel and parked the truck next to a dumpster. They climbed out and Dana had to stretch. She watched him take her luggage out of the bed of the truck and waited for Dana to join him at the back door.
“Why are we using the back alley?”
“Discretion. We gotta keep your reputation as clean as possible,” he said and winked. He banged on the metal door and they could hear the knock echo down a hallway. “Besides, we must keep up appearances. Or else, what would the neighbors say.”
“Somehow, I don’t think you are really worried about what the neighbors say,” Dana said a little more suspicious.
She heard footsteps approaching the door.
Her imagination began to take hold and fantasized that the footsteps belonged to a huge monster like Frankenstein. The footfalls sounded like they were booted. She heard keys jingle and one was inserted into the door. The metal door creaked open slowly. The sound of metal scraping metal sounded like fingernails across a chalkboard.
Sure enough, Dana had to crank her head up to see the giant’s face. Actually, he reminded her of a black Lurch, the Addams family’s butler. His dark eyes were lifeless. The hairs on the back of her neck tingled.
“Dana? This is Bruno,” Hank introduced the bouncer. He walked through the doorway and Dana followed very close behind Hank.
“Pleased to meet you, Mister Bruno,” Dana squeaked out. They climbed a set of stairs and found room number 212.
“Here we go,” Hank announced. He inserted the key and opened the door. He pushed the door open and bowed. Hank gestured for her to enter first.
Hank set down the luggage, turned around, and left the room. Before Dana knew it, Hank locked the door from the outside of the room.
“Hank? What are you doing?” Dana asked. She was afraid. She ran to the door and tried the doorknob. It was locked.
“Let me out!” She screamed and banged on the door. “Hank please!”
“I’m sorry baby,” Hank said through the door. “It was your Momma’s idea. She made me do it.”
Dana could not believe what she was hearing. Her own flesh and blood?
Dana became hysterical and demanded to be let out. She cried and cried. Finally, she collapsed against the door in defeat.
“I’m sorry, Dana.” She heard Hank through the door.
“Why?” Dana heard no reply.
A few minutes later, Dana heard Hank’s truck start up and roar to life. She rushed to the window and looked down just in time to see the truck’s taillights turn the corner and disappeared.
She felt betrayed. Her own mother? She frantically tried to open the window, but it was nailed shut. She searched the room for something to throw through the glass. She took her suitcase and was about to fling it through the window when a key rattled in the lock. Dana backed into a corner of the room and used the suitcase as a shield. The door slowly opens. Dana held her breath. The door opened a little wider