© 2017 Chloe Tzang. All rights reserved. The author asserts a moral right to be identified as the author of this story. This story or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a review. This is my first ever Valentine's Day story...
"The separation between past, present and future is only an illusion, though a convincing one..." - Albert Einstein. Feet tucked in close, she sighed, picked up the newspaper and looked over the front page, settled on a story and started reading. From time to time she picked up her coffee, took a sip, a little grin crossing her face here, the shadow of a...
"You're a sorry fucking bitch," screams Rob. Betty shouts back, "And you're a sorry fucking excuse for a man. You worthless cock sucker." "At least I'm not out trying to fuck the entire town." "Neither am I. I am just satisfying one man. At least he can satisfy me. Not like some ass hole that will remain nameless." "How do you expect to get satisfied whe...
Author note: I know that I currently have two stories currently running, and in need of their next chapters. I also know that many of you are really waiting for them as well. I promise I am working on them, but this story-line and scenario came to me and I felt it best served as a separate story. That is not to say I won't use aspects of it with my other cha...
Kimberly was a twenty-one year old girl from a family of four kids. The oldest, Paul fourteen years her elder and Kimberly were very close, so when he was diagnosed with cancer Kimberly was devastated because she did not want to lose the one brother she was close to. Paul was the kind of guy Kimberly could talk to about anything, including boys, drugs, sex a...
1. Introductions I was on the trail early; the heat and inevitable sunburn of midday get unbearable here. I didn't see anyone for several minutes and hoped for a brisk pace, 6.5 miles in two hours, but my parents' dog Nicky would help; she pulls like a locomotive. Nicky is a 4-year-old shorthaired pointer, rail thin with a big chest and ludicrously fast, t...
DISCLAIMER: All characters appearing in this story are fictitious as they do not exist. Any resemblance to a real person, living or dead is purely coincidental and should not be construed to associate a real person, living or dead with scenes or events described within this story. All of the characters depicted in this story are over the age of 18 and takes...
~New Mexico, 1870's~ Chapter 1: A Stranger Rides In A dead Indian hung from the limb of a cottonwood over a dry creek bed. There was a flurry of large wings as a rider slowly approached, and reddish-colored hawks lifted their engorged bodies sluggishly into the air with a chorus of kreeing sounds and began to circle leisurely overhead. John Green clicked...
They call them Istanza. The word is derived from a long-forgotten language, a language whose origins are lost in the depths of time. None are left who speak the language in its entirety, but there are a select few who understand the handful of words that are still used. * * * 1: Finding Silra Leeann watched the ceremony with a keen awareness of her own gr...
Chapter 1: The Story of a Sex Slave It was a rainy night as I stood in front of the doorstep. The rain was just pouring down so heavily, but I didn't care. I would strip off my clothes and dance in it right now if I wanted to. But I had to be professional. I press the small black button on the side of the door hearing the bell ring ever so loudly withi...