Flash Serial:V14 Voyeur ~ Need

Voyeur sees things.  Not ghosts or spirits, Voyeur sees those interactions people imagine are private.  Stolen kisses, gropings on the bus, passion interludes stolen in the shadows.  And she seeks them out.

Intimacy is much easier to handle when its someone else’s.

Voyeur is now published through Republica Press.

Do You Like To Listen?

What about watching?

Have I piqued your interest yet?  This weekend Mr. Greyson and I are making the trip out to Cleveland to join Neve Black for her Naughty Neve Nightcaps!

And, if you haven’t stopped by her dark and sultry haven, she’s reading some of my stories!   Unfortunately, I can’t tell you which(because she hasn’t told me yet!) but I can tell you that I sent three her way to choose from, and all three are rather hot!  And…if I’m brave enough, I might just slip behind the microphone myself and read one of them.

So, stay tuned!  As soon as she posts the videos I’ll make sure to link to them!

Slipping out of Character

IMG_4541Saturday Mr. Greyson and I attended a Halloween Bash put on by one of the local radio stations.  We didn’t really have a good time, discovering that unless you knew people already mingling just didn’t happen, not to mention the soundstage losing power for two of the five hours we were there.  But…that’s neither here nor there.

It’s been close to a decade since I last dressed up for Halloween.  I’m really a down to earth person.  Quiet, unassuming, rarely the center of attention and unwilling, for the most part, to make ripples.  I lean towards jeans and a comfortable sweater, rarely wear makeup and am prone to simply tying my hair up in a ponytail.  So when it comes to Halloween I end up doing more than just dressing up, I end up stepping out of character. 

IMG_4550I decided to dress up as a goth chic for the party.  It’s not really a costume in the true sense of the world, but I certainly was going as a different person.  My mom dyed my hair and I started dressing.  Each article of clothing seemed to be part of a magic charm.  Black slacks that fit snugly and flared at the leg.  Red corset, laced tight, with a multitude of tiny hooks up the front.  White ruffled shirt for some contrast, and because I simply am too self-conscious to go without something over the corset.  Then makeup.  Then the nearly knee high black boots with the 2.5″ heels. 

When I finally stepped out into the living room both my mom and husband were stunned into silence.   She uttered a hushed “Wow” and I watched him shift and his adam’s apple bob. 

Later my husband, when I asked him “Why are you looking at me funny?” answered “Because you don’t look like you!”  I knew then that I had succeeded in my costume.  Everything about me was strange, and I felt I walked around in someone else’s skin for the night, someone who wasn’t shy about baring flesh or walking with a sway to her hips.  I think it would have been fun, had the party we attended not been a disaster.  We’re planning to make the drive out to Cleveland to attend the Literary Cafe’s Halloween Party and meet Neve Black.  I think I’ll be dressing up the same, with a few added touches, and that this party will be MUCH more enjoyable. 

All in all, I didn’t mind stepping out of character, and I think I just might have to do it again for a private party with Mr. Greyson, and see what happens 😉

Flash Serial:V13 Voyeur ~ Morning After

Voyeur sees things.  Not ghosts or spirits, Voyeur sees those interactions people imagine are private.  Stolen kisses, gropings on the bus, passion interludes stolen in the shadows.  And she seeks them out.

Intimacy is much easier to handle when its someone else’s.

Voyeur is now published through Republica Press.

Flash Serial:V12 Voyeur ~ Lust

Voyeur sees things.  Not ghosts or spirits, Voyeur sees those interactions people imagine are private.  Stolen kisses, gropings on the bus, passion interludes stolen in the shadows.  And she seeks them out.

Intimacy is much easier to handle when its someone else’s.

Voyeur is now published through Republica Press.

Lost in a Maze

Vivid dreams are far from rare for me, but last night’s deserves preserving.

 

I was in a maze.  This is a theme, lately, with the maze being constructed of different materials with different inhabitants from night to night. 

Last night it was steel.  Stainless steel, polished so I was shadowed by my own blurry reflection as I tried to find my way through.  The panels reached high above my head and wind whistled above, shoving feathers of clouds into streaks across a sky the color of a fading bruise. 

I started out trying to follow the golden rule of mazes.  Keep turning in the same direction whenever possible.  I did fine for a while, and though I had no clue where I was in the grand scheme of the maze I felt I was making progress; either towards the exit or the center. 

Then things started to go sideways.  I was turned around one of the steel panels and was greeted with a twisting column of fire.  It burned hot, pale blue at the center and shimmering.  The heat beat against my face and arms, alarmingly hot and the metal behind it glowed a lurid red.  The column stretched up as high as the maze before fading into yellow licks of flames. 

Abruptly it went out, only the fading darkness on the wall and the scorch on the granite underfoot marking its presence.  The heat disipated and I continued on, being certain not to linger too long.

The occurence repeated at odd intervals, with the fire taking different shapes and varying intensities of inferno.  Then I started to hear voices.  Not whispers but out and out conversations, and they always seemed just on the otherside of the panel I was walking along.  I struggled to follow one pair as they engaged in a low but passionate quarrel. 

I was quickly led astray of my intention to make consistant turns. 

The further I walked the more blackened rock I happened across, the more eery fires appeared.  Soon it seemed every step I took was over a dark, cracked slab of rock, every foot of steel I passed was darkened with the distinct blueing of tempered steel.  My anxiety built when the fires began to block passages and flaring up behind me, giving me no option but a predetermined path.

Then I woke.

Flash Serial:V11 Voyeur ~ Kneejerk

Voyeur sees things.  Not ghosts or spirits, Voyeur sees those interactions people imagine are private.  Stolen kisses, gropings on the bus, passion interludes stolen in the shadows.  And she seeks them out.

Intimacy is much easier to handle when its someone else’s.

Voyeur is now published through Republica Press.