Sometimes, I feel like hell is right here on earth, and not in some distant subterranean realm like the Bible says. It's like an intense feeling , one that cannot be ignored. My name is Elroy Samson. Who am I? Just your average, everyday gorgeous six-foot-three, lean and athletic African-American homo fatale. Yes, I'm Black and Gay and totally proud of both....
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. As fiction, the characters are not bound by the usual dictates of modern society. Unsafe sexual practices can be un...
The house was quiet as John walked the halls for what he figured would be the last time. He checked all the windows and doors making sure the place was locked down tight. She might be dead now but his grandmother would still kill him if he let anything happen to the old place. She had grown up there and loved the place almost as much as she loved her family....
Author's Note: I'm a bit nervous as this is my first time ever posting to this site and this is my first time ever writing a story of this kind. Constructive comments both positive and negative are greatly encouraged and welcome. Also, I want to thank Khasy for editing this for me! I'd like to mention that this story is a work of fiction and any similarit...
Julian walked into the bar. The end of the world had wiped out most of the human world and so monsters walked amongst the humans. Most modern conveniences had been destroyed between the accidental nuclear war and the mass retaliations that followed. The immortals and the few surviving humans were doing their best to rebuild the world but there was much debat...
Millstone - ONE - (Hanging the Chimney Hook) CHAPTER TWO Neither of us had made a trip across the continent. We had premium economy seats, and while I didn't expect first class, I wished it were. Some complimentary champagne wouldn't have gone amiss; after all, it was my 38th birthday again. The plane sat three passengers on one side of the aisle and two...
It was a mistake to have come to Central Virginia, but not, I think a mistake to have stayed. Stuart had seemed so right when we found ourselves in New York as we both were completing our English doctorates at Colombia, but in the four months between when he had taken a position in the English department at the University of Virginia in Charlottesville and w...
"Ahhh, Professor Caldwell. That poetry. It's so moving. I had no idea—" "Hush, Lawrence. Live the moment. How does this make you feel?" "It's like nothing I've felt before. But should we . . . should you . . .? I've never—" "No words now, Lawrence. We let the Romantic writers speak our words for us. They do it so well. This poem from Keats. Did it not mak...
Relax, then. But not too relaxed. This is a seduction. I am your dearest dream. I am whatever, whoever, you want me to be. Harvest home. We are together in a dorm room. The rest of university is home on Thanksgiving break. It is night. We are alone. Not moving, with quiet snow falling down round the whole of the world. You whisper into my shoulder all you...
Massachusetts State Trooper Pierre Guillot walked through the halls of the Massachusetts State Police Academy. The New Braintree facility was teeming with students. Young men and women who wanted to become police officers. He smiled, remembering his days at the Academy. He lived in the school dorms for five days a week and only went home on the weekends. He...