Tempest

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



Book Jacket



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



Will insert this later. I had it going pretty well and then I lost it somehow. -.-







~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



Prologue   



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



    I imagine every woman, often secretly, within the depths of her heart, dreams of love. Which is exactly what I was doing as I lay there on the beach with my feet in the water, starting at the vast velvety black of the diamond studded sky, my book forgotten in the sand.







    I had decided that I was tired of my life as it was. Living in the city had taken its toll on the happiness in my life, a fact that I hadn't fully come to understand while within its boundaries. In truth, I had never really taken the time for such introspective luxury. Without realizing it, I had become machine-like and bland.







    When I was young, I was filled with dreams. To a child these things are simple. You don't yet grasp the idea that fairy tales are fiction, and that though the world is your oyster, oysters only give up their pearls to those who dive into icy waters to pry them from their homes, and destroy their reality with little consideration and the edge of a cold metal blade.







    In a way, life is as cruel, but we are the oyster and the blade. We enter the cold waters of adulthood and pry ourselves from the oceans of our dreamy innocence. We destroy our reality where fairy tales are innocent with little consideration of our origins, in search of a pearl.







    The problem, I have found, is in our perceptions. As children our pearls are pure, as adults they are flawed with preconception. We shed our simple minds to convince ourselves that money and recognition is our treasure, only to find when we hold it in our hands that it is not as we expected, it is chalky and dull, and our oyster is dead.







    I was here to cast my pearl back into the ocean and leave its dark and icy waters behind. In the process, I found my fairy tale on warm and tropical beaches. 







~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



Chapter 1: New Beginnings (Edit note - rewrite or remove)



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



Allegan, MI, 2004







    John pulled into the parking of the apartment complex as I began to gather my purse and coat from beneath the dash board on the passenger side of the beat up Nisan Ultima. Three hours of driving had us both irritable and lethargic. He kept his hands on the wheel and his eyes forward as I opened the car door, and I paused, one black stiletto on the asphalt of the sun baked parking lot, searching for words of supplication.







    My mouth set in a hard line. I didn't owe him any explanations. I appreciated his help in getting me here, but I just wasn't in the mood to explain myself. Probably better that way anyways. The world is too full of pain as it is.  Neither of us spoke a word, both of us set in our defensive and stubborn dance of wills, as I exited the vehicle stage right and marched the short distance up the sidewalk to the office door, my heels sharp and rhythmic on the concrete.







    Summer had made this small town as aesthetic as a gilded painting, and this place was no exception. To the left of the office door, with its black information plaque and little gold mail slot, the perfectly landscaped flower beds, overflowing with color and perfume, were a bright contrast to the deep red of the wood chip mulch inside the rectangle of small, glittering white stones. A cast iron and wood bench sat on a small concrete inlet between them. To the right of the door was an obviously verdant knee-high hedge, perfectly trimmed. All in all the scene gave a happy, peaceful air to the small building.







    I paused to compose myself before going in as John sat there - I could feel his eyes on my back, dark and brooding, until he finally threw the car in reverse and drove away. I was not going to let him ruin my happiness.  This was my chance for a fresh start, a new place with new people, and I felt true hope and happiness, mixed with determination, surge within me like a windy kiss from God for the first time in twenty-two years.







    I opened the office door and stepped into a cool blast from the central cooling system. A short, balding Caucasian man in a white button down shirt and khaki slacks looked up from the paperwork on his small metal desk, squinting at me through tiny wire framed glasses.  He stood and motioned for me to take a seat before him.







    "How can I help you, ma'am?"







    "My name is Victoria Matthews, I called you the other day about an apartment. You said you had a two bedroom townhouse for lease."







    "Yes, I remember. I'm Mark Carson.  When are you looking to move in?"







    "Immediately."







    He looked taken aback, and it took him a moment to recover from the surprise.







    "I would need payment up front, of course, Mrs. Matthews. And you haven't even seen the place yet..."







    I cut him off, raising my hand as a gesture of pause.







    "It's Miss Matthews, and I assure you the payment is not an issue. If you're available, we could view the town house now, although I did see the ad online."







    He smiled at me, as if indulging a child's whim, scooping up his overly bloated key ring from the desk.







    Of course, right this way, if you please."







    He opened the door and stepped aside for me to move past him, then closed it softly behind him. Two boyes ran past, laughing and screaming in delight, as we proceeded down the sidewalk.







    "Here we are, number 722"







    He unlocked the door and again stepped aside.







~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

   

    "I'll take it."  I was irritated with the man, considering I had already mentioned that I had reviewed the ad online.







    "Alright, lets go back to the office."







    "It's a grand five a month, and the first month's rent plus a two thousand dollar down payment upon signing of the lease."







    He stood there, staring at me, as if he expected me to decline, then handed me a clipboard and I filled out the paperwork, signed for it, and pulled out my checkbook. After making a few calls, the first of which was to the bank, he put the file in the cabinet of the desk and handed me the keys.







    "Welcome to your new home, Miss Matthews."







    The expression on his face was confused and awe-struck, as if he had just been the one sold something.  I made my exit, keys in hand, and started the twelve block walk to the used car dealership. My new life was off and running.







~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



Chapter 2: Home Sweet Home, But Not Where The Heart Is (Edit note: Rewrite or remove)



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



    The car salesman was equally astonished as he handed me the keys to the white SUV. Basic necessities came first now, and kitchen supplies, hygenics, cleaning products, and bedding were packed into the back seat. Next was the grocery store, and the result of the day was a barely legal drive home.







    Back at the apartment I got to work ordering furniture off of my laptop. The vast majority was dark mahogany Pulaski. A light blue, plush living room set was selected including love seat, recliener, chaise, and ottoman for the sitting room, along with an ornate set of three marble topped carving decorated tables, two sofa tables and a cocktail table to be exact. A pair of matching silver antique lamps completed the collection. For the dining room I selected a small side bar, dining table set to seat four, and a china cabinet.  There was still the matter of the empty space between the kitchen and hall entrance, and I stood back and considered how best to put it to use. A decorative accent cabinet fit the space almost perfectly, and I decided on a small combination shelf and cabinet wall mount as well. The master bedroom was well furnished with a dresser, armoire, five drawer chest, four poster queen bed and vanity with mirror.  I had no children, and decided to turn the second bedroom into a home office and mini library. I selected brown cherry as the theme here, and ordered an executive desk, several matching book cases, a leather sofa and love seat, black cocktail table and sofa tables, small grandfather clock, along with a small wooden filing cabinet.



 



    It took three days to ship everything and over four hours to set it all up, thanks to delivery and installation services, but I liked the results and finally felt like the townhouse was my own. Other than minor detail decorations, there was nothing left to do.  I sank into bed that night exhausted. Tomorrow I would spend the day in the office. I was sure my finances were now severely dented, but I was confident. I had the perfect little life here. A lavish, comfortable home in a beautiful small town away from the insanity of the larger cities, and a career that I loved and had spent years building from nothing single handedly.







  The average single woman in her mid thirties would kill for my circumstances. At least the worldly and material ones. So why was I still so unhappy?







~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



JOURNAL ENTRY · 2 MIN READ

For M.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

January 2014 - Almost 30 years of carefully crafted steel shell and molten core came to nothing. In 3/4 of a second and one breath, everything changed. It's amazing how much power can be held in so little time, and such a silly trivial moment.



Hey.



3 letters, 3/4 of a second, one moment in time where you found a sliver of my mind not desperately digging ragged fingernails into a narrow ledge of shallow breath while my iron will held back the hell that had me by the throat.



The fact of the matter is, I had no expectations, at least not for you. Just some passing bit of nothing floating by one soul that saw nothing but scars in it's wake and the abyss before it.



3 letters to a few words, a few words to one conversation, everything in me on the floor and then nothing, silence, me sitting stunned and bottomed out. I think I had forgotten you were even there, on the other end of that fucking phone, the cold outside of your window sucking up the cold I had bared my teeth at for half a decade.



6 words and it all came down, like nothing. One steel core transformed to glass, with 6 words between 2 people that had probably never even been in the same damn CITY at the same damn time.



I had no expectations of you, you weren't ever supposed to be there at all.



"You need to get out of there. I'm in the car. Are you going to tell me where you are or do I have to drive around Lansing looking for you?"



It wasn't a question and I was no fool, a simple command and there was nothing left to stop you.



6 words turn to 6 hours of 4 words running through my head in an endless loop, "What are you doing?" "What are you doing?" "What are you doing?" "What are you doing?" "What are you doing?"



And there you were, black metal against a black sky in a cold night, blind and limitless, and such a fool.



What did you expect? I had no expectations of you, and you, you God damn bull headed stubborn Taures, incapable of connecting the possibility that the flow of your life could ever be out of step, stepped out into that cold night, liquid steel where you'd robbed mine away in 6 breaths, and now it was me that turned to ice.



Because you weren't supposed to be there, weren't supposed to exist.



I never expected anything of you, but I damn sure didn't expect you either.

Almost 20 years ago I formed, as all small girls do, a fairy tale, the image of a man crafted in the mind. refined with time, illusion.



I could have believed anything else, and I felt my core freeze, heard the laugh of my soul in disbelief, of course it would be you, 6 words of course it would be you, who else could have said them? My soul laughing at the insanity of it while my mind screamed for me to run and my body froze to that winter's ground.



You silly stupid boy. What did you expect? You carried the deepest core of me casually, without any idea.



What you didn't see was that you stepped into that cold night, lit a fire in your mind and let it consume you, consume me in a perfect terrible trap.



Because for everything you took, as only you could, whatever tie binds us can't break the ones that bind me, your heat of your hand on my neck can't break the cold chains of fate for me.



I am sorry. I am sorry that you broke yourself against me, desperately trying to break me free. I could have taken the cost of you, what I can't take now is that I am still frozen on the sidewalk, "Run", "This one will destroy you", "What are you doing?"



"Run." "You destroy him." "What have you done?"



"Run. You need to get out of there. Who will save you from the price you pay for trying to save me?"



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TEMPEST ORIGINAL

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Just Friends·Nov 13, 2015

EROTICA · 3 MIN READ

Tempest Part 1

He pulls up to my driveway and stops, and the car door opens. It's a black Fisker Karma Trim, sexy and sleek in the moonlight. He steps out and leans against the front, hands back, shoulders slightly hunched forward, his black hair falling around his face. He's all muscle and sinew, lithe like a jungle cat, and as I come out of the front door he's watching me intently. His eyes glow with something dark and my mouth waters, and I flush.



He slides off the front of the car and sways towards me, and his strength is palpable. His head tilts to the side, and our eyes meet and he smiles. He turns and opens the door, motioning for me to step in. I slide into the car, and the door shuts.



He gets into the drivers side and starts her up, and we're on our way.



"Are you hungry? I thought we'd eat. What are you in the mood for? Don't say anything, I want you to tell me what you want."



"Alright. Chinese sounds great, somewhere with good sushi."



He nods and grabs his phone.



He carries the conversation and his questions are intelligent and telling. I'm impressed and find myself enjoying his company.



We arrive at the restaurant and he parks. "I'll get your door." I stay put.



He opens the door and I step out, and as I rise his hand is on my hip, gently guiding me around the door as he shuts it behind me. His hand is like a brand, and my heart rate picks up.



He guides me this way into the restaurant, where a thin woman with blond hair in a pony tail is assisting a couple in front of us. His hand hasn't moved, and he steps closer to me. The couple moves on.



"Two". She guides us to a table in the back, and he pulls out my seat, then sits.



"Again. Choose what you want." He regards me seriously. "Your choices tell me something about you, whether you realize why or not. So, consider it an education. Forget the numbers and just make a choice."



I choose.



"Pick a wine."



Is this some sort of test? I choose a dry Riesling.



He laughs. "This isn't a test. Choose the wine you love, not for the food."



I opt for a Cabernet Sauvignon, embarrassed.



The waiter arrives and asks for our order.



"Anything else?"



"Don't come back for an hour and twenty minutes and you'll find out then." He hands the waiter a folded fifty and his eyes widen.



"Sir."



The conversation continues, but I feel like somehow, he's slowly prying, analyzing, and it's like an undressing. My senses sharpen, and I'm both uncomfortable, and uncomfortable that I'm uncomfortable. I try to focus on the spicy tuna rolls in front of me.



He finds my hand across the table and turns it over, sliding his thumb up the center of my wrist, and I try to pull away. His hand tightens, and he smiles, watching me as his finger slides back to the center of my palm. My mouth opens, and I close it quickly, looking away.



He's relaxed and at ease with himself, and I feel outmatched. This was a mistake.



We've finished our meal, and half the bottle of Cabernet, and the waiter returns. He hands me a desert menu and I shake my head. He hands the waiter his card.



"Quickly please."



The waiter returns a few minutes later with a receipt and the card.



He escorts me out the same as we came in, hand on hip, and I'm far too aware of him now.



"Would you like to smoke?" My hands are steady as I light my cigarette, dragging deeply.



He's standing too close.



"Where to now? Movie, drinks, wander?" He steps to my back, and dips his head. "Perhaps a more private venue?" My eyes widen at his audacity, and he is undaunted.



We head for the car, and he opens the door, closing it behind me. Slides into his side.



"It's your evening. If you want me to take you home I will. It's not what I want to do. It's your choice."



I say nothing, and he looks at me intently for a while, then starts the car. This time we drive in silence.



His hand slides over the center console and to the inside of my thigh, sliding up, and he softly pulls his fingers over the silk of my panties. I can hear his intake of breath, and I tense as heat curls in my gut. HIs finger slips into the side and his hand turns, and he turns his head to look at me. I turn my face away.



"Look at me."



I turn my head and open my eyes.



His fingers slide with a slight pressure, and his jaw clenches. My heart rate and breathing pick up, and his chest is rising and falling in shirt, quick breaths, his rhythm increases and my head rolls to the side, my eyes flare.



His hips lift slightly in his seat, and he slides down slightly,



"Touch me" and it's a breath.



My hand moves and slides down the front of his pants, and he's hot and rock solid, pulsing and damp. His teeth clench and the car accelerates slightly. He closes his eyes for a moment.



The car slows.



"Stop." This time it's a command and the car shuts off and he's out the door, around the car and I'm out and beside him. His hand returns to my hip, his fingers digging painfully, as he guides me to the door.



It's a more upscale hotel but there's no one in front of us, and he's short and curt with the receptionist.



His hand returns to my hip, and he's pushing me down the hall, but this time his fingers are digging painfully into my hip.



He opens the door and steps aside, I enter and he closes it behind me, and backs against it.



"Right now, you have to tell me. Because I won't stop, and I wont be gentle. I won't stop, and this is mine to control. Is this what you want?"



"Yes." It's a whisper. He turns, and the lock clicks.



Aug 17, 2015