Snowed – Part 60


snowed cover image for blogThe police arrive and are able to help the kids off the bus. Mike manages to distract Anisette without getting himself shot. The lady cop comes up to speak to him, she asks him if that’s the crazy chick who caused all the trouble.

“Yeah,” I said, right before I passed out.

I woke up awhile later with a paramedic kneeling beside me.

“He’s awake,” he called to someone I couldn’t see.

My lady cop friend squatted beside me. “Can’t handle the buzz, huh?”

“Buzz?”

“Bitch drugged you,” she said.

“Something on her lips,” the paramedic said.

“So, I’m not just a horny bastard?” I struggled to get up.

The guy helped me sit up while the lady cop laughed.

“No. I think any guy who got dosed like that would act the same way. Make you do all kinds of crazy shit while it lasted. Then makes you pass out.”

“Hot monkey sex,” I agreed with a groan. “What is it?”

“It’s a designer drug. We’re starting to see it from time to time at parties. Girls are getting payback for the date rape drugs, using their own form of revenge. Dose a guy, then cry rape.”

“Dirty bitches,” I groaned again, holding my head.

“Could she really be pregnant?”

I started to nod, then decided against it because it made me want to throw up. “We weren’t exactly careful when we got together.”

“When was that?” Lady cop asked.

“Halloween. My birthday.”

“We’ll have her checked at the hospital,” the paramedic said calmly. “You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah. Thanks.” I leaned against the side of the car, my head whirling, my brain still trying to catch up. “So, it wasn’t my fault?”

“The hot monkey sex?” Lady Cop shook he head. “No, home boy, it wasn’t your fault.”

“Oh, thank, God.”

“Thanks for the distraction. We were able to get the kids out safely.”

“Did they see? I didn’t want them to see. Not like that. . . .”

“No, Mr. Reuben. They didn’t see. And even if they did, they know you did it for them. That was a brave thing you did.”

“What am I gonna do? Let her shoot up my bus? I’m responsible for that.” I laughed weakly.

Lady Cop smirked, helping me stand. “Might want to do up the drawers,” she said. “There’s someone here to see you.”

Actually, there was a whole crowd. Parents and students walked toward us, all talking at once. I turned away, zipping and buckling, so I was presentable when they arrived moments later. I’ve never been clapped, pummeled, socked, had my hair ruffled or felt quite so much like puking in public as I did at that moment.

After the odd eternity, it was over and they were gone. I could stand on my own, but I couldn’t drive myself home. Cleo’s rental was towed and I was taken to the emergency room. The doctor proclaimed me fine shortly after my arrival and gave me something to help with the after effects of the drug.

Sarena, Chester and my mother sat in the waiting room. They stood anxiously when the door opened. Ma damn near knocked me over in her enthusiasm to see me. Chester pulled her off, letting Sarena help me sit down.

“They told us what that awful woman did,” Ma exclaimed.

“Not an awful woman, Ma. Just a poor girl who was tired of being ignored.”

“What she did to you was horrible! How can you defend her?”

“I keep wondering what I did or said to make her think. . . . How did I encourage her?”

“Maybe something as simple as a smile,” Sarena said, kissing my cheek. “Don’t blame yourself.”

“I just want to tell her I’m sorry.”

“She’s not in her right mind,” Chester explained. “Nothing you said would make any difference. The doctor has her sedated.”

“Is she pregnant?”

“I don’t know. They didn’t say.”

“I need to find out. If she is, well. . . . I have to know.”

© Dellani Oakes 2014

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I’ve Been Nominated for the Versatile Blogger Award!


The-Versatile-Blogger-AwardThank you, Rami Unger, for thinking of me. It really made my day finding your message on my blog. I love being nominated for these awards, because it validates, in some small way, all my hard work. Check out Rami’s blog here.

My next step is to tell you 7 random things about myself. I need to figure out 7 random, yet interesting things, about myself. That may be difficult. . . .

One—I volunteer with a small group of writers at our local Council on Aging. I love the group and have met some fascinating people there. I joke with my husband that my best friends are all over 60. In fact, several of them are old enough to be my mom and then some! It’s a lot of fun and keeps me laughing. I look forward to it all week.

Two—I had to drop out of typing class when I was in high school, because it stressed me out. We had those huge, hulking manual typewriters to type on. The upper ranks of keys were so far away from the home keys, I couldn’t reach them. (I have little hands.) I couldn’t hit the keys hard enough to mash them down, so my accuracy was horrible. I sat next to the best guy in the class. Smug bugger, he knew it, too. I wanted to punch him at least twice a class period. I didn’t actually learn how to type well until I got my first computer. I still can’t take a typing speed test without choking.

Three—I’ve told this before, so it isn’t really a new item of interest, but it’s something I’m proud of. Those of you who follow me, or listen to my radio shows, know that I write—a lot. I have, at post time of this message, 65 finished novels and 28 finished short stories. I also have 53 unfinished novels and 18 unfinished short stories.

Four—I have two radio broadcasts each month on Blog Talk Radio, Red River Writers Network. I’ve spoken to dozens of dellani photo dark 2 super cropwriters over the years, and enjoy the hell out of every show. I have had some amazing people on and wouldn’t trade the experience for anything.

Five—I collect odd events which I often include in my novels. Beware if you see me in the grocery store or a parking lot! Don’t be rude to the writer, she will put you in her next novel!

Six—I never thought I’d write romance novels. I never read them very often when I was younger, I mostly read fantasy and mysteries. I think the mysteries really influenced me, because I frequently write romantic suspense.

Seven—I have met a few famous people in my life. When I was at USM, the Honors College sponsored lectures by authors and actors. I met Ruth Warrick (Citizen Kane and All My Children), Richard Brautigan (author of Trout Fishing in America, among others) and Robin Cook (Coma). The theatre department brought in Edward Albee (Who’s Afraid of Virginia Wolfe?) for a lecture series. Not only did I get to speak to him, but I got tons of pictures. He liked it so much, he would strike a pose for me.

Now, I want to nominate some bloggers:

karen vaughan pictureKaren Vaughan

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rachel RuebenRachel Rueben 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ruth author picRuth Davis Hays

Snowed – Part 59


snowed cover image for blogMike finds the bus at the park where they stopped for lunch when on the field trip. He knows that Anisette Parker is around somewhere. She hops onto the hood of the car, wielding a gun at him. He knows he has to calm her down.

“Then why are you with her and not me?”

“Because you didn’t leave your number. How’s a guy supposed to call?”

“You could have asked me for it.” She walked over, pointing the gun at my balls.

I gulped, considering the pissing option again. “Baby, you didn’t exactly give me a chance! You had me up inside you so fast, I didn’t have time. You blew me away, Ani. My head was still spinning the next day.”

“Then why did you make it with that old, blonde whore? The one from the coffee shop? Why?”

“Hey, a guy gets horny, Anisette. She and I used to date. You got me so sexed up, I couldn’t see straight. I was horny and had no way to reach you.”

That, weirdly, seemed to satisfy her. For the moment. Her face clouded again.

“But you’re with her, now!” she screeched. “Not me, her! Why?” At least the gun was pointed away from me and the bus, gesturing toward town.

“She looks like you,” I said softly, seductively. “I couldn’t find you. I didn’t know who you were. When I saw her, I thought she was you. I wanted her to be you.”

“Take me now,” she demanded, tossing my coat aside. “Here, now!”

“Ani, in front of the kids?”

She looked at the bus in confusion as if she’d forgotten it was there. “Fuck them,” she said. “They can watch.”

“I don’t much like an audience, Ani. I’m shy. Big Mike can’t come out to play if you make me do this in front of them.”

“In the car.” She grabbed me, dragging me toward the backseat.

I opened the back door, pressing her up against the side, fumbling with her clothing. My mouth locked on hers, but my eyes were wide open, looking around for any sign that the police were there. I saw movement in the bushes and the flash of metal in the sunlight. I had a feeling they were going to get the kids out of the bus before they came to my rescue. Great! I was gonna be bare assed naked before they helped me out.

Anisette’s hand with the gun wavered, the weight of it pressing against my side. I worked it out of her fingers, tossing it away from us after holding it up for the cops to see. One of the officers had worked his way to the bus. A kid up front opened it for him. It squeaked and I thought that Anisette would hear it, so I groaned, rubbing myself against her. Honest to God, I hoped they would hurry, because even if I was faking, this proximity was having an alarming effect on me. Memories of things we had done came flooding back. Hot monkey sex had nothing on the kinky shit she and I did that night. Her hands were all over me, grabbing, rubbing. I could feel myself getting hard and hot, pressing her body against the car.

“Inside,” I growled. “I don’t want an audience.”

I pushed her down on the backseat, tearing at her pants as she pulled at mine. In the back of my mind, I’m thinking that my bus full of students is watching me practically rape this woman, and I didn’t care. I wanted her—now! She wiggled out of her jeans, lying there in a pair of sexy panties against the backseat. She pulled them down too, reaching for my pants. I shoved her hands away, pulling them off myself. Dressed in my jacket and boxers, I was all but inside her when a burly police officer came up on one side of the car and someone else came up behind me.

“You bastard!” She screeched, grabbing at my junk.

I dodged, but just barely, pulling my pants up before I tripped over them.

“You dirty, rotten, lying, cheating. . . .” She scrambled around trying to find her clothing while the cops kept her covered from outside.

I backed up, easing slowly away from the car, my belt open and my pants unzipped. My balls were beginning to ache, but not because she’d made a grab at me. I had a passing thought that she’d drugged me again. I staggered, leaning against the car.

“You saw him!” she screamed from the backseat. “He tried to rape me! You saw!”

The police officers moved in carefully, reaching for her inside the car.

“I’m pregnant,” she yelled as the big guy took her shoulder. “I’m having your baby,” she spit in my face. “You can’t send me to jail, I’m having his baby!”

“Lady, I don’t much care if you’re having Jesus Christ himself. If you don’t get out of that car, I’ll put a hole in you so big, he can crawl out on his own.”

I liked that damn cop.

“Step away from the car, Mr. Reuben,” the woman behind me said. My pal from the paintball incident had arrived. “This the crazy chick that caused all that trouble?”

© Dellani Oakes 2014

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Notable Narrative – Indian Summer Shark Attack!


Notable Narrative

Sometimes, it isn’t just dialogue or a steamy love scene that captures the interest. This particular scene is one I wrote when I first started Indian Summer nearly 20 years ago. I began the novel, but couldn’t capture Gabriella’s voice. Discouraged, I put the notebook in a drawer and left it. One day, I was cleaning the drawer and found the notebook once more. I read through it, discarding most of it as crap, but this scene, I kept. I found Gabriella’s voice in this scene and was able to begin again. This scene is almost word for word what I originally wrote.

The ocean felt blood warm and comforting. I hadn’t realized how much my body ached from my new activities. The tension of the last few weeks washed from my body as the water closed over me. It buoyed me up, letting me float gently on the waves. I closed my eyes to the bright morning sun and rested. I didn’t realize how far I drifted, for the tide was going out. I heard a noise, a shout from the beach and looked up. I was much further out than I intended and began to swim slowly back in.

Before I saw what was happening, a man dove into the water and swam rapidly past me. It was not until then I saw the fin on the water. Shark! I could formulate no other thoughts but the horror of that image, that word. I had seen people attacked by sharks, their bodies torn and bloody, bloated from the water they died in. I swam for my life as quickly as I could. The man met the shark not far from the shore. I scrambled out, running to my clothing. I had the ridiculous notion that it would somehow protect me. There was a battle going on in the waves, but I couldn’t see it clearly. The man raised his knife, the sun glittering off the blade. He brought it down on the shark again and again with a dull, liquid thunk. Blood was everywhere, but whether it was his or the shark’s I didn’t know.

Forgetting my clothing for the moment, I grabbed my knife. Foolishly, I dashed back into the water as man and shark dove under! I couldn’t see either of them, just blood on the waves. A small ripple where they went down was the only other thing visible. Suddenly, the water beside me erupted as a huge shark leapt out of the water not five feet from me! I screamed, frozen to the spot. I saw the knife in its ugly, brutish head, between its eyes. It was fighting fiercely, despite numerous stab wounds.

Clinging to it stubbornly was a man. Sailfish! He was covered in blood, slipping from the shark’s hide. The vicious beast gave a last squirm as the life left it. It shivered once more and died. Sailfish drew his blade from it, racing toward me.

“Run!” He yelled.

I was stupefied, I couldn’t make my legs work. I stood there naked and dripping, too terrified to move.indian summer scanned cover 500 x 750

“Run!” He yelled again. “Gabriella, get out of the water!”

Before he finished speaking, I saw the fins racing toward all the blood, toward us! I turned and ran, splashing and flailing to get to shore. He caught up with me, righting me as I fell. Impatient at my lack of speed, he lifted me out of the water, carrying me to the sand. His long legs covered the distance in less time than it takes to tell of it. I stared in shock and horror as the dead shark danced crazily in the water, the others tearing its carcass to pieces in a horrific frenzy! A scream threatened to erupt from my throat. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. Gradually, the furor died down and the sharks swam away. Nothing was left of the dead one. I sank to my knees, retching. I had not eaten yet that morning, so it was dry heaves. Sometimes that’s worse than actually vomiting. I became aware of strong hands helping me sit up, of the same hands dressing me like a baby and the muscular arms around me, holding me while I cried.

All the sorrow, anger, and fear that had built in me since the night of my capture, came pouring out in a flood of tears. I felt so safe in his arms. I clung to him, weeping as if my heart were broken. He held me, rocked me, and stroked my hair, all the while speaking in low monotones. None of it made sense to me for he spoke in his own tongue, but the flow of the words and the tone were comforting. I cried a long time, finally coming to a stop. He continued to hold me, giving me his comfort.

Soon, however, the touch changed, I felt the comforting become a caress as a lover would touch his beloved. I don’t know why, but I felt a tingling sensation for the first time since we met. He was so strong, virile, warm and so alive. He stopped rocking me, but continued to hold me, turning my tear-streaked face gently to his. I gazed into his jet black eyes, lost in their depths. His strong jaw was working, trying to hold the emotions in. I felt his manhood pressing against me and faltered in my resolve.

God help me, I loved Manuel! How could I dishonor him by kissing another man? Even as I thought this, Sailfish lowered his lips to mine and kissed me with a passion not even Manuel had equaled. I melted into his embrace, his lips locked with mine, his tongue probing my mouth. I burned inside, my heart fluttering like a trapped bird. I felt swept away as if the ocean waves had carried me off into the water once more. Wave after hot wave coursed through my body. He touched me all the places I knew he shouldn’t, but somehow I couldn’t bring myself to stop him. I was so tired of fighting desire, sick of saying no, weary of being proper.

I believe I would have allowed him to continue had we not heard shouts coming from on the mound. There was a ruckus on the river side of the island. Reluctantly, he let go of me, turning to the lookout. Sailfish called out to him, demanding to know what was wrong. I couldn’t understand his answer, for they spoke in their native tongue. Sailfish all but dumped me on the sand as he rose and ran toward the camp, shouting as he went. I gathered myself up running after him, curious and afraid all at once.

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A Little White Lie – Part 13


Originally posted on Lone Wolf by Dellani Oakes:

white lie coverOn planet, the mission begins in earnest. Wil’s no longer the tender lover he was back at the base. His professional mien has descended, separating him from his feelings. Penny sees it in his eyes.

Wil turned to the rest of the team, switching to professional mode. A last glance at Penny and Wil disappeared into the darkness.

Aurialonus wasn’t too smart setting up his security. The prisoners were easily accessible on the ground floor on the back side of the palace which was flanked by the royal gardens.

Their surveillance showed no more than ten armed guards near the prisoners and about that many more on the second floor where Aurialonus slept—most of whom were outside his door. They weren’t guarding the balcony, positioned on the roof or any of a dozen other places Wil would’ve put people.

However, bivouacked around the palace grounds were several hundred soldiers who…

View original 1,142 more words

Snowed – Part 58


snowed cover image for blogMike spends another blissful night with Sarena, but gets a frightening phone call the next morning. His boss at the bus depot calls to ask where he is and what he’s done with the bus. Mike realizes that Miss Parker probably stole it. The truly frightening thing is that she is probably picking up his students with the intention of using them as hostages. Mike thinks he knows where she’s going. His boss calls the police while Mike gets dressed.

“Do it! I’ll find some transportation and try to follow her. Maybe I can figure out where she’s going.”

I hung up and grabbed my coat and boots. Cleo was happy to loan me her rental car. I hated to do it, and hoped she’d picked up the extra insurance, cause I had a feeling it was not coming back the same condition it was leaving in. Sarena wanted to come, but I flat refused.

“If she can, she’ll use you against me. I can go head to head with her, but only if I know you’re safe. Stay with Jesse and Cleo until your dad gets here. He’s taking you three to the motel. You’ll be safe there.”

“You be careful,” she said, fighting tears.

“I promise.” I kissed her with the same wild abandon I had the night before, but kept it short. “I have to go. I love you.”

“I love you too.” She burst into tears.

It nearly killed me to leave her, but I had to find Anisette Parker. I had a feeling I knew where she would go once the had the kids, and I wanted to get there first. I called the police and told them who I was and what I was doing. The dispatcher thought I was insane, but connected me with the woman who had handled my paintball incident the day before.

“And why do you think she’ll head to that park?”

I tried to explain about the field trip, but she didn’t understand.

“I’ll take your word for it. I’m calling for back up and heading there right now. Don’t you do a damn thing until we get there. You hear me?”

“I can’t let her threaten my kids,” I said.

“Mr. Reuben!” I hung up on her.

I sped up, nearly running a couple red lights, as I headed to the park. If a cop followed me, so be it. I didn’t care. I couldn’t let that crazy woman use those kids as hostages.

The bus was there, but the cops hadn’t arrived. I could see the kids sitting ramrod straight in their seats, staring ahead. They were clearly terrified. What was she doing? I couldn’t see her anywhere and wondered if she was on board. My question was answered before I even pulled to a stop. She stepped out of the woods in front of the car and I nearly hit her. I might have ended it all if I had just run her over, but I wanted to give her a chance.

The smile on her face filled me with dread. I stopped the car, but didn’t get out. Ani crawled on the hood of the car, eyes fixed on mine, a feral expression on her face. She was dressed in some of my clothing. She must have taken it when she was in my apartment. Not that it mattered, but I kind of liked that jacket she was wearing and had the fleeting wonder if there was any way to get it back. It’s amazing the shit that goes through your brain when you’re facing certain death, huh?

“Coming out—lover?” She lay with her chest pressed to the windshield, face inches from mine.

What was I gonna do, sit there and piss on myself? This seemed like a viable option, until she stood up, jumping on the hood of the car.

“Get out!” she bellowed. “Get—Out—Now!” She emphasized her words by jumping on the hood.

Her performance was made even more convincing when she pulled out a gun and aimed it at me. In her small hands, it looked like a pretty big gun. I could give a shit what caliber. At that distance, she wasn’t going to miss. I got out slowly, swallowing hard, hoping the cops were almost there. I prayed for the right words to say to calm her down.

“Ani,” I mumbled. “What’s wrong? Can’t we talk about this?”

“Oh, now you remember me? Now that I have your full attention, you remember? You bastard! You two timing, fornicating, dick weed! You didn’t even call me!”

She went on like that for awhile, getting more creative as she went. She waved the gun around, making me very nervous. Even though the safety was on, I was worried. One wrong move, we’ve got someone dead or bleeding. I didn’t want it to be me, but I was more concerned about that bus load of kids.

“Ani, we can talk about this. Honestly, I didn’t know it was you. I was drunk that night. And the stuff you gave me, it made me forget. . . . I wanted to call you, but you didn’t leave your number—or even your name. How can a guy call if you don’t do that, huh? I wanted to call—and say thank you. To tell you—how great it was. It was so great, Ani. . . . So great.”

© Dellani Oakes 2014

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