Controller: Chapter 15

Wednesday BriefsHello everyone. Welcome to another Wednesday Briefs. Be sure and check out the other authors listed at the end of this chapter.

Chapter 15

Eli’s anger was plain as he paced the room at a furious speed. “He actually played with himself? What the hell! He’s a sick bastard.”

“Shh, I don’t want anyone else to know what happened. He’ll flunk me for sure.”

Eli froze, his eyebrows curving to a V-shape in the middle of his forehead. “Flunk you? You’re worried about him flunking you?”

I couldn’t believe how angry Eli was. I didn’t know what I felt. It had been so nasty, but it had turned me on a little too, which made me sick to my stomach. I had to pass this class, and Davidson had been clear what I needed to do for a passing grade. Continue reading

Guest Blogger – Julie Lynn Hayes!

Welcome Julie Lynn Hayes, fellow Wednesday Briefs author, with her latest novel. Welcome to the blog, Julie.

Red Riding Hood and Wolf

“Goodness, what big eyes you have!” Little Red Riding Hood exclaimed.

“The better to see you with, my dear,” said her grandmother.

Except we know it’s not really her grandmother, don’t we? It’s the Big Bad Wolf in disguise.

Little Red Riding Hood was my first introduction to the wolf as more than an animal. This wolf walks and talks, he has very human emotions and he’ssneaky and crafty. Is he really a wolf, or is he more… perhaps the forerunner of the loup-garou? More commonly known as the werewolf, or wolf man?

Outside of fairy tales, I think my first encounter with wolf men came with the Lon Chaney, Jr. film. His werewolf was a scary dude, and very hairy. Not to mention he was a total beast. And I mean that literally. As a werewolf, no remnant of Larry Talbot’s humanity was evident once he changed. He acted on pure animal instinct, and people were scared spitless at the sight of him.

There have been a number of films in this genre, with pretty much the same horrifying scenario of the man forced to turn into a hideous beast at the tug of the full moon, usually the result of a curse of some sort. Or the bite of another werewolf. There was nothing romantic about these creatures.

And then along came An American WerewAnnex - Chaney Jr., Lon (Wolf Man, The)_02olf in London, which took werewolves in a new direction, and revitalized the genre and breathed new life in it (with more than a touch of humor), leading to such films as Van Helsing and Underworld, among others.

Meanwhile, in the world of fiction, the werewolf underwent a more startling transformation. Romance writers created tortured souls that were also incredibly sexy, and gave a whole new meaning to the word. The first sexy werewolf I can remember was actually on TV. Quentin Collins, in the old soap opera Dark Shadows, was sexy David Selby. He’s the first werewolf I remember thinking was hot. Okay, there was Oliver Reed too, in Curse of the Werewolf, but he was also scary lol.

Werewolves are now a staple of paranormal romance writers, rivaling the vampire in popularity. At any given time, usually one of these creatures dominates the field as far as who’s the top of the polls. But werewolves have actually devolved into two camps – the werewolf and the shapeshifter – and these are not the same thing, not at all.

What’s the difference, you ask? The werewolf is a slave to the pull of the Full Moon. Come rain or shine, hell or high water, no matter where he is or what he’s doing, when it’s time, he’s going to change, and there’s not a damn thing he can do about it. But the shapeshifter controls his change, and he’s generally in command of his faculties when he does, so he has the advantage of the hapless werewolf.smiling quentin 7.10.11

What brought about this sudden surge in shapeshifters? I think it was laziness, personally, because some writers didn’t want to deal with having their heroes wait until the Full Moon – they wanted guys that could change at a moment’s notice. And they didn’t want to be confined to once a month. Technically speaking, shapeshifters are not werewolves by their very nature. Doesn’t make them wrong, just different.

Not only that, but suddenly there are shapeshifting men for every species of animal you can imagine, and maybe a few you never expected to see in a book (or outside of one lol) I remember reading something about treeshifters! Not your every day variety of shapeshifter, you have to admit.

Werewolf or shapeshifter – both are fun to read about and to write about. I think they’re here to stay. I know I enjoy writing about them.



Raoul Marchand is the crown prince of Charisma, the infamous night club in Crescent Bay, renowned for its supernatural clientele. He has the pick of any and all men, but he cares for none. He uses them and throws them away again, and has done so for some twenty years, in the aftermath of a tragedy that robbed him of what he loved most in the world.

Alexx Jameson is an idealistic young would-be reporter with the Crescent Bay Chronicle. Presented with an opportunity to write a story on the Marchands, he eagerly grasps the chance to be a real reporter. His friend, Chronicle receptionist Miller Fenwick, suggests they go to Charisma to do a little research. Alexx isn’t sure that’s such a great idea. After all, he’s still under age, being only twenty. No problem, Miller can fix that! Added bonus, there’s a full moon tonight.

When Alexx first encounters Raoul, it isn’t exactly in the way he dreamed of, and he’s sure he made a terrible first impression. But Fate throws them together under unforeseen circumstances, and the attraction between them can’t be denied. Can Raoul let go of the past long enough to find his future with Alexx, or is he doomed to repeat past mistakes?


Alexx drew in his breath in dismay. This wasn’t going well. Even so, he could not stop staring at Raoul. His eyes met the other man’s. Raoul’s were very golden; he wasn’t aware such colors even existed in the spectrum of the human eye. But then again, he didn’t have any friends that were werewolves either. He wondered if this was a sign that perhaps this man was about to change, right here and now?

The thought was both exhilarating and frightening.

Alexx’s vision telescoped until he wasn’t aware of anything but this gorgeous man in front of him. Blood pounded in his ears and his mouth felt suddenly dry. Having lost all sense of the others in the room, he was surprised when he felt his chair yanked out from under him. Before he could fall, a hand grabbed the scruff of his neck, propelling him to his feet. He glanced at his companion; Miller was being subjected to the same surly treatment.

“You waste my time for this?” Raoul’s upper lip curled back in a snarl. Alexx found himself wildly attracted to him. “I have somewhere I need to be. Paolo, please show these gentlemen out.” Sarcastic much? He turned and reached for the door, but it opened before he touched it.

A shaggy blond with hazel eyes and a cheerful countenance stuck his head inside. “Hey Paolo—” He interrupted himself at the sight of the occupants of the room.

Alexx heard Miller’s sigh of relief, even as he too recognized the newcomer. He’d seen him around the Chronicle often enough, although he’d never really spoken to him. Foster Levine, son of the Chronicle’s owner—heir apparent and future newspaper magnate.

Alexx’s relief quickly changed to anxiety. What if Foster knew how old he really was? He couldn’t be sure one way or the other, but for the sake of argument, he had to assume he did. Would he out him to Raoul Marchand and his burly minion? Had they simply jumped from the frying pan to be scorched by the fire?

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Author Bio:

Julie Lynn Hayes was reading at the age of two and writing by the age of nine and always wanted to be a writer when she grew up. Two marriages, five children, and more than forty years later, that is still her dream. She blames her younger daughters for introducing her to yaoi and the world of M/M love, a world which has captured her imagination and her heart and fueled her writing in ways she’d never dreamed of before. She especially loves stories of two men finding true love and happiness in one another’s arms and is a great believer in the happily ever after. She lives in St. Louis with her daughter Sarah and two cats, loves books and movies, and hopes to be a world traveler some day. She enjoys crafts, such as crocheting and cross stitch, knitting and needlepoint and loves to cook. While working a temporary day job, she continues to write her books and stories and reviews, which she posts in various places on the internet. Her family thinks she is a bit off, but she doesn’t mind. Marching to the beat of one’s own drummer is a good thing, after all.  Her published works can be found at Amber Quill Press, Dreamspinner Press, MuseitUp Publishing, Torquere Press, and eXtasy Books. She is also an editor at MuseitUp.


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Twitter @Shelley_runyon


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Rough Draft Finished! Rut is in season.

I’m taking a few minutes to pause and enjoy finishing the rough draft on another short story. “Rut” is topped out at 10,500 words right now. It has bears, otters and elks (the last are actual elk, not a new cool slag term you’d somehow missed. The first two… totally slang.). Of course, it also has a lot of drama.

It’s another anthology submission, so there is much polishing and refining to do before it’s ready to send off. But I’m going to take a few moments to enjoy the sense of accomplishment. Ahh, there it is.

Controller: Chapter 14

Wednesday BriefsHello everyone. Welcome to another Wednesday Briefs. Be sure and check out the other stories at the bottom of this one.

Chapter 14

I slogged across campus, on my way to beg for a better grade. My thoughts weren’t on my destination, they were on Michael. Stumbling for words, I’d blurted out ‘Why’d you help us?’. He’s usually such a jerk, and I never have been able to get over what he did to Jamie. He’d blown off the question with a shrug and left Eli and I staring at his back as he walked away. I still hadn’t been able to get anything from him. I’d asked Jamie, but he replied with a smile and wave of his hands.

By the time I’d ran through Michael being the odd hero. I realized I was standing at Dr. Davidson’s door, exactly where I didn’t want to be.

I did not want to talk to this professor. I’d tried in the past, I had. But for some reason he made my skin crawl. He was friendly, very friendly. But he always seemed to be touching everyone. He’d squeezed my shoulder once, I felt like I needed to wash with a scrubbing pad to get his touch off me.

But now, I was failing his class. The only choice I have is to go talk to him. I hoped he would let me do something to raise my grade. What was the worst thing he could do to me? I’m already failing, you can’t do worse than flunk. I’d screwed around now and the deadline had passed to drop the class.

I stood outside the professors office and remembered another weird thing. None of the other people shut their doors during their office hours, but Davidson did. The whole thing just creeped me out.

I reached up to knock softly on the door.

“Hang on. Give me a minute.”

Shuffling, clicking and a couple of chimes came through the door. It took him a solid minute or two to finally open the door. What the hell?

The door opened a large crack, and an eye glared through at me from the dim room. “Yes? What do you need?”

“I’m Nathan Jensen. I’m in your beginning chemistry class. I had some problems with the midterm and came to talk to you.”

Another awkward pause, then the door opened. Davidson held it and motioned me inside. My eyes adjusted to the gloom as he made his way back to the desk and sat down. His eyes were partially lit from the computer screen as he typed in a few bursts on the keyboard. I used his diverted attention as an opportunity to look around the room.

Nothing unusual. Pictures of a woman and smiling kids, probably his family. A couple of book shelves filled to bursting. The odd certificate or award on the wall. Nothing to trigger the level of unease knotting my stomach. His desk was clean, none of the usual piles of ungraded papers, mail and other debris faculty allowed to accumulate. Not on his. All he had was a large calendar with items printed over in tiny print dominated his desk, a pencil holder perfectly filled with what I was sure were needle sharp pencils, and one of the numerous photos of the typical American family.

“Yes, I can see we do need to talk.”

I snapped back to the present, and the little smirk of a smile that he was wearing now. His fingers steepled in front of him as he studied me. This time his stare really was creeping me out. Finally his eyes met mine. “So, Mr. Jensen. It’s going to be very difficult for you to pass this course. What were you looking to accomplish in speaking with me?”

My mouth went dry. What did I want?

“Extra credit.” I squeaked out.

The smirk on his face grew, and then his eyes definitely went up and down my body, pausing at my crotch for several moments. A cold chill went through me, my cock shriveled like a raisin at the thought of him touching me again. This time his eyes never met mine, they just evaluated me like I was a piece of meat.

“What, exactly, were you hoping to do for ‘extra credit’?” he asked. The emphasis he put on the words ‘extra credit’ made the direction of the conversation obvious.

I stumbled to propose something. Anything than what was becoming obvious he wanted. “A paper maybe? Yeah, an extra credit paper. I could write you a paper, ten pages? Or even fifteen?” A plan, I was relieved to have come up with something.

I watched as he stood, walked to my side of the desk and leaned back against it. The smirk never left his face as he moved far too close. His crotch was directly across from me and panic rushed through my system. Oh my God, he is propositioning me!

Without breaking eye contact, he slid his hand up his leg and grabbed his crotch and started groping himself. We sat in silence for several minutes his he played with an obviously hardening cock. He stroked it through his loose cords when he spoke again. “Do you have any other ways that you can think of to earn extra credit, Mr. Jensen?”

Panic flared through my whole body. I just wanted out of his office, screw the grade. This guy wanted to trade sex. Holy shit, I can’t believe this is happening to me.

I grabbed my backpack and lurched from the chair, almost touching his leg as I fled. I tried to move as if I wasn’t trapped by a sexual predator. I opened the door, paused for a second and managed to rattle off, “Thanks for your time. I’ll think about what I could do.”

With that I left, embarrassed and terrified. What had I gotten myself into?

If you’d like to see a snippet from the other Wednesday Briefs authors you can go to the groups website. Or click on the name listed below to go directly to the story.

Controller: Chapter 13

Wednesday BriefsHello everyone. Welcome to another Wednesday Briefs with the guys. Be sure and check out the other stories at the bottom of this one.

Chapter 13

“Hey, knock it off!”

I slowed my pace, peering across the darkening campus. I was running late for class, but I knew that voice. I turned slowly, trying to hear it again.



I closed my eyes, hoping it would help me locate the person. The sound of unsteady footsteps came my way. I eased closer and was almost hosed as some guy puked just in front of me. He hung onto a tree and barfed two or three times. I hate the smell of vomit. It makes me gag and then I’m puking too. It’s not a good thing. Continue reading

Guest Blogger – Alicia Nordwell

First off, thanks for hosting me, Jon! Today I thought I’d let visitors find out a bit more about Bear. Don’t forget to check out the new excerpt and comment for your chance to win the $10 Amazon gift card. The winner will be chosen randomly from the commenters and then announced on the final stop back at my blog on January 20th. Don’t forget to leave your email, or I won’t be able to contact you.


A Bit About Bear

Time to learn more about Bear! Welcome, Mr. Ber—

Finish that and die.

Oookay. Welcome, Bear. This is a little Q & A to share more about you with my readers.

Well, if they want to know my name they can read the book. I know you put it in there.

Hey, no need to glare. You’re the one who told Kameron! The first time you met him, in fact.

Yeah well, the blond giant has a way about him. Undercover wiles and all that. Moving on….

I do have a few other questions, if you don’t mind.

Ask away, and we’ll see if I answer.

What’s your favorite thing to eat?

Ooh, starting out with the hard questions, aren’t you? I like… meat. A thick, pink steak with lots of sauce.

*Facepalms* Next question, I guess. Let’s see… how about hobbies?

I like computers, always have. There’s no end to what a guy can find online to keep him entertained.

Oh geez. I don’t remember you being this pervy!

You’re the one who wrote in my favorite porn clip. How am I the pervy one? Besides, these are your questions.

*Crosses out what would you do if you had insomnia and had to find something to amuse yourself?* How about your pet peeves? Can you answer that without dipping into the gutter?

If I have to, I can. I hate liars, but that’s a bit more than a pet peeve. Calling me little is a good way to find a beer bottle shoved places it doesn’t belong. People who crowd me and need a breath mint, assholes who fail to signal when they change lanes, and white socks with black shoes.

Well, that was mostly clean. Would you consider yourself organized or messy?

Organized. Loren’s always bitching that my apartment is frat boy-esque, but that’s just because I don’t have much stuff. Ratty couch, table, TV, my desk… I don’t need much else. I don’t leave boxes of pizza around or beer bottles around or anything.


Or my sexy underwear.


I guess I didn’t have to. Your face is really red. This is fun.

You can stop grinning anytime now. Kameron was right; you’re full of sass. I think I’m gonna go interview him. Maybe he’ll give me some adult responses.

Oh please. Who uses that word anymore? Are you guys some old grannies from the sixties? You’re both weird! I’m not sassy—I’m a spitfire. Much more modern. But hey, I can be an adult. Don’t give up yet. Ask me one more. I’ll behave.



I have no idea why I believe you. Okay, I’ve got a good one. Last question. What’s the most evil thing you’ve ever done?

You mean besides screw with you during this interview?

Yes, I mean besides that. *rolls eyes*

Well, I could say it was knocking Choika out, but that was pretty damn good for Kameron. Oh! I might have embedded a code to make some really naughty words trail the cursor when a visitor scrolls across the page for that pain in the ass client who kept trying to get website work outside of her contract. Maybe.

Are you sure you’re twenty-five and not two?

Oh, I’m sure. Can’t you tell?

All right, that’s enough of that. I’m going to talk to the adult in this house.


Protecting Bear Final- Medium


Synopsis: Bear has horrible luck with guys. Kameron seems like a good guy, but Bear thought his ex was a good guy too. He turned out to be a drug dealer. Kameron isn’t who Bear thinks he is, though, and Vilem’s enemies are looking for Bear. They want to… talk.

Excerpt: At first glance, Capstone looked like any other upscale bar. A small stage housed a DJ booth that was currently being used. Kameron saw an amp and microphone tucked in the corner. Spank Thru by Nirvana was blasting the dance floor, so if he did sit through a live show, odds were that his ears wouldn’t bleed from techno or bubble gum pop.

There was a door beside the DJ booth and another door behind the bar. Most of the room was dimly lit, except for the blue spots on the stage and the neon tubes glowing around the bar counter and just below the ceiling lighting up the wall of liquor bottles lining the skinny shelves. Tall chairs lined the bar. Most of them were full, except for down on the end near the door. Based on the layout of the room, Kameron knew that door went outside to the alley. The other door by the DJ booth must lead to the backrooms and office.

Kameron wound his way through the press of people standing and sitting around the tables until he got to the bar. He let the chair skid on the wood floor when he pulled it out but the music was loud enough the bartenders didn’t look up from making orders.

Two guys worked behind the bar serving drinks and taking money. One was obviously Bear. Kameron recognized him from his pictures. The other guy was either another staff member or the bar owner, Loren. He was average height, average weight, with light blond hair. From the neck down…. Metal bars through his nipples glinted blue in the light, and when he turned to grab a bar of liquor off the shelf, Kameron saw a huge tiger exposing long-ass fangs in a deadly snarl tattooed across his back. Clothed he could probably pass for a cop’s spouse, but behind the bar he looked at home half-dressed and joking with the customers.

Kameron settled into the chair sideways so his back was toward the corner of the room. He didn’t like the door at his back, but sitting sideways kept the floor and the bar in view. There was a good crowd of men dancing but along the wall were four tables with women. Actually… drag queens. The tight skirt one wore didn’t disguise the bulge between her legs when she stood, though without it Kameron would’ve had a hard time figuring out she was a man.

A nearly-empty drink on the bar gave Kameron the cover he needed. He cradled it in his hand to hide the lack of liquid and avoided direct eye contact around the bar, so Bear wouldn’t notice him. Nirvana morphed into the Cranberries and then Creed. Kameron tapped his toe along to the beat.

He kept a close eye on Bear. The slim man was dressed in leather pants and a crimson vest. His hair stood up in rigid spikes and his golden eyes were lined with kohl. He flew about, chatting with people as he made drinks and opened beers. No one waited for long.

Available for purchase at:


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Author Bio:

Alicia Nordwell is one of those not so rare creatures, a reader turned writer. Striving to find something interesting to read one day, she decided to write what she wanted instead. Then the voices started… Yep, not only does she talk about herself in the third person for bios, she has voices in her head constantly clamoring to get out. Fortunately for readers, with the encouragement of her family and friends, she decided for her own sanity to keep writing. Now you can find her stories both free and e-published! Oh yeah, she’s a wife, mom of two, and lives in the dreary, yet ideal for her redhead complexion, Pacific Northwest. Except for when she disappears into one of the many worlds in her head, of course!

BLOG  *  FACEBOOK  *  GOODREADS  *  TWITTER: @AliciaNordwell

Controller: Chapter 12

Wednesday BriefsHello everyone. Welcome to another Wednesday Briefs. Be sure and check out the other stories at the bottom of this one.

Chapter 12

I can’t do it. I can’t keep chasing Jamie. After hearing he and Michael that night I’d avoided him. What could I do? Obviously a relationship is never going to work out for us. My mid-term grades sucked, I’d been so busy feeling sorry for myself that I didn’t study. Now, I had to kick it in the butt to get my grades up.

Then there was Eli. How in the hell an I going to handle Eli. The kiss was sweet, but then the stuff happened with Jamie and Michael. I don’t want to hurt him. I really like Eli. He’s a great friend. The kiss, I can still feel his touch, and sweet kiss. The warm feeling it created lasted for awhile. It wasn’t fair to string Eli along.

Looks like I’m going to go through college celibate. Continue reading

Happy New Years!

Happy New Years! 2013 had a few rough patches, but there was much more good. Heart of the Pines was published which was a fun experience.

No resolutions, but I do have a few goals for the next year. One is to try some new ways to tell a story. Hopefully, it will make the stories more interesting, more absorbing, more…I don’t know, more of something. But to do that I decided to write more short stories, which is a challenge for me. I write long stories that involve dozens of characters, like the Wrangler Butt series. But I can write a short story in a few weeks, so it gives me more opportunities to try different things.

I’m going to work on my writing over the next year, and hopefully emerge a better teller of LGBT stories. I’m also going to work to going back to my roots, writing the stories I wish I’d found when I was at an age to need a hero I could relate to.

Anyway, enough of that. As things are published, online or in print, let me know what you think. For example, Crossfire is a short story I’m finishing up that is the first story I’ve written that isn’t all about the relationship between two guys. When it comes out, I’d love to hear your thoughts. Or any other time you have a comment or suggestion, drop me a note. It’s

Take care, thanks again for all the support over the past years. Have a wonderful 2014


Controller: Chapter 11

Wednesday BriefsHappy New Years everyone! Thanks for following this story through eleven chapters. Here’s to a successful 2014!

Chapter 11

Lying in bed, I struggled to sort out what had happened. I touched the spot where Eli’s kiss had landed. The whole thing had been so natural, so sweet and tender. My emotions were in tatters and I couldn’t bring them together.

I’ve been working through my attraction to Jamie since I’d walked into the computer store and he’d helped me. Jamie is with Michael. I tell myself this over and over. So why do I get hard every time I see Jamie? One smile from him and my stomach fills with butterflies. Jamie’s so handsome. So exotic. Every time I’m around him, my heart races and my tongue tangles up like one of those damn fly fishing knots my dad keeps trying to teach me. Eli is cute, a little awkward, but a nice guy. And a great friend. I don’t usually go for smaller guys, but he is so sweet. Damn it, this shouldn’t be so hard. I want to be with Jamie, and Eli needs someone who fits him.

The hallway door banged open and voices came from the living room. I realized it was Michael and Jamie. With a little guilt, I crept to the door to indulge myself in a round of voyeurism. I pressed my ear against the door and listened.

“Come on, suck it. You know you want it, bitch.”

“Stop it, Michael. You’ll wake someone up. You’re drunk.”

“Come on, suck me. I just want to get off so I can sleep.”

The sound of scuffling filtered into my ears and was punctuated by Michael’s groan.

“That’s a good girl. You want my hard cock don’t you? Chew on it. Bite through those jeans.”

A gasp sounded, and a coarse chuckle echoed through the door. There was more noise of a struggle and then the sound of a zipper. More noises drifted through the door that I tried to categorize. Loud gagging sounded from outside my door.

He’s forcing Jamie! I grabbed the door, ready to try and help Jamie.

“Come on, Michael. You know I love your dick, and a little rough is good. Not quite so hard though, babe.”

My stomach roiled at the words, not sure what to think. I closed my door with a faint click. I should have gone to bed and covered my head so I couldn’t hear more. But that didn’t happen. The sounds coming through the door left me clinging to its cold flat surface.

Michael moaned again, and a wet sound filtered to my ears. The rhythmic thrusting built, and I imagined Jamie on his knees with Michael thrusting into his mouth.

“That’s nice, baby. Oh, fuck. I’m so close.”

The sounds shimmered around me, filling me. With what, I couldn’t say. I’m eighteen; I can’t control the primal side of myself most of the time. I was hard as a rock. A lot less than the sounds of someone getting head a few feet away could leave me in that condition. Guilt flooded me at how my body betrayed me. The guy I had fallen for had a dick in his face, and I popped a damn boner. The swirl of guilt, anguish and stimulation thickened when I realized Michael had sped up.

Then, the nightmare reached its end.

“Ah, fuck. Yeah, swallow my cum,” screamed Michael.

The images playing through my mind were over whelming. This wasn’t sexy. It wasn’t hot. My heart was breaking at the betrayal of my unspoken love.

I stumbled away from the door and made my way back to bed. I fell across the mattress and buried my face in the pillow, shoving it tight over my ears. The room narrowed to the soft muffled sound of my heart pounding, and my sobs. Those few minutes were burned into my mind forever. Now, the man I lusted after was tarnished forever.

The tears began, and I couldn’t have told you the exact reason. Maybe it was the confirmation I’d lost Jamie, the man I’d actually never had; or the sound of sex that I still wasn’t certain I’d call consensual and my decision to do nothing; or was it simply the destruction of my first crush.

I curled into a ball and stared into the stygian darkness filling my room, as the tears rolled down my face onto my pillow, each a fragment of my shattered heart.

If you’d like to see a snippet from the other Wednesday Briefs authors you can go to the groups website. Or click on the name listed below to go directly to the story.