I am awakened by a loud creaking. It's the front door. I think, I've actually never used it. Listening carefully and just barely, I hear someone hushing another. Sounds like a male. Mmm I do hope it's an elf. Male elves are so delicious. I wasn't expecting anyone to come here and it seemed like the perfect place for a temporary base. Not too close yet not t...
Marina It was just light out when Marina awoke and stretched out luxuriantly on Boxing Day, her first day at Underhill Grange as a member of this lovely family, betrothed to the only love of her life Daniel Medcalf, the sweetest man she knew. Daniel had already got up and was no doubt in the kitchen prepping breakfast. She washed and dressed quickly, not wa...
Before long, it was time for me to start dinner, so I suggested to Jill that I grill outside on the barbecue. Since Ann had passed, I didn't really use the grill that much, as it was kind of a waste to use that much wood or charcoal for one person, and I didn't care for gas grilling. You just don't get the flavor with gas, that you do with charcoal or wood....
It's been a while! I've been way too caught up with starting a novel to write this kind of X rated stuff on the side; besides I really have to be in the right mood to do this sort of thing. Either way please enjoy, feedback and comments are encouraged! Disclaimer: This is all a publication of fiction and in no way happened. This also may get a little unreal...
I suppose this is as good a time as any to introduce myself. My name is Peter Dylan Fisher; I was born to a pair of ranchers in New New Mexico; and I have been a smuggler for just shy of six years now. Peter was my father's choice, to honor his grandfather, and Dylan was my mother's addition. There is nothing that irritates me more than people who call me Pe...
Prologue This is the latest in a series of stories that involve our hero, Tom. Tom, a six foot tall, thirty something ex football player, who now travels around the world picking up odd jobs for friends or people he has met over the years. He retired when he ruptured his Achilles tendon but he keeps himself in good shape. Oh, and he has a thick 10 inch c...
It is an unspoken rule that every village needs a tramp. A village can have all the virtuous women in the world, but without at least one woman who will loosen her morals, it will surely implode. Such was the common wisdom in the island village of Kos. The position had been filled for years by Daphne Rigini, but Daphne eventually got married and became resp...
"Okay," I told myself. "The road is straight for miles. I can close my eyes for five seconds. That's all I need." That's where I was. That's the shape I was in. It was past midnight and I was half an hour from the nearest town. I was in the middle of deep, East Texas on a blacktopped road between the pine trees. I was beyond exhaustion. I badly needed sl...
In 1859, thirteen year old Victoria's father, Ambrose Whitfield, had the foresight to accurately predict the worst event to ever come to the United States, the Civil War. His 3,000 acre plantation, The Mist, as it had been named by Ambrose's grandmother. Set on the eastern bank of the great river near Port Hudson Mississippi. He owned 120 slaves and farmed 1...
Her Story (The following story is set in Northeast Louisiana in December 1844—the antebellum South. It is a harvest celebration. The language used is authentically Southern from the time period. All of the characters mentioned herein are between 18 and 21 years of age. This is the first of a series of stories told from both the female and the male perspecti...