On Tuesday evening I received a call from Steve just after I had gotten back from dinner. I had been working all day on some compatibility problems between the hardware at the remote sites and the software at the main office. I was just going to sit down and call Jan when my phone chimed. I looked at the screen and was disappointed at first as I was hoping t...
I'm on the plane. Holy. Shit. I'm on the plane. I had thought of this moment hundreds of times over the last month, but now here it was and I was even more anxious than I had imagined I would be. I walked down the too-narrow aisle toward my seat in row 18. I looked at my ticket again and back up at the icons on the overhead bins. Fuck. I was in the middle se...
There it was, in obscenely banal black and white: her grandfather's will. He'd been dead for years, and she'd heard rumors about the disposition of his estate, but she'd certainly never expected to see the actual document, much less have it casually handed to her as if it were a grocery receipt and not a real person's final words to his loved ones. Her moth...
Perhaps a few opening remarks. This is another one of those ideas that have been sort of roasting in the oven for a long time. If you decide to read it you'll see it is definitely a 'loving wives' story. I hope you enjoy it, and please feel free to leave a remark or two when you've finished. Your comments are always welcome. * Part One: Suspicion, Dis...
This is the fifth installment of the "In a World..." series, detailing the erotic journey of Ginnifer and Rick. This narrative can stand alone, but it's at its best when read in the slowly-building sequence. This is also a cross-category story that leans deepest into the prurient parts of the "Loving Wives" category. More sensitive readers should check the I...
Pt. VIII: The Scoop Kim Wright appeared next on Jack's short list of appointments to make. He called the private number Sam Hanson wrote on the back of her business card. Jack knew it was an old card because Sam had told him Kim was no longer an investigative reporter with the Las Vegas Review-Journal, the largest paper in Nevada. The two agreed to meet fo...
Part I -- On the Boat The muted sun is straining through the clouds, softening its harsh, bright light and blistering heat. Soft winds caress the sails, coaxing us gently toward our destination like a father teaching his son how to bicycle. The small haze of perspiration on our skins is gently wicked away with each cuddly-soft puff of breeze. Even through t...
The mini van pulled into the driveway of the single family home, set back nearly one hundred yards from the road in a semi rural area, and not within view of any neighbors or passer by. It was 6:00PM on a Friday in July. Laura, the petite thirty five year old brunette driver, and sole occupant, had snorted cocaine in one last attempt to fortify her courage,...
Do not Copy me its not nice! ADULTS ONLY!! If your not an adult, where the hell are your parents? ##Please send any feedback you have or IM me on yahoo messenger! I love to hear from people so feel free. * * * * * I need to write this down so that I don't get lucky enough to not remember some day. I am not sure if this is a punishment or not. I am not sur...
Authors note: This may be my one and only submission. I have an idea for an essay on writers' foibles but there doesn't seem to be a category for it. You may see the end coming but remember the destination is only a small part. The journey is the thing. There is a medical description of what may have caused a death that some may find tedious but I feel...