Jackson thought the weather needed a little direction.
Archive for April 29, 2011
Anna’s Story
This is the opening excerpt of my still unnamed time travel novel. Let’s call it Anna’s Story for now. The excerpt is first draft, so if you see problems, let me know.
Chapter 1
Clayton Sparrow, lay in his bed, head propped up on one elbow, his gaze travelling the length of Anna Wassar’s back; muscled like a swimmers, it flowed to a deep curve just before it melded into the opulent rise of her buttocks. With his forefinger he traced the line of his gaze ending by cupping a buttock in his hand. She tensed and released her muscles.
“So you see, we really should do it, you know. There is a lot we could learn.” Anna’s throaty words were intense.
“Hmm.” Clay hadn’t a clue what she was talking about but decided now was not the time to risk putting her off.
“Are you listening to me, Clay? You do agree don’t you?”
“Yes. Yes, of course, I agree.” He leaned forward and kissed her shoulder.
“Dr. Sparrow, will you stop that and pay attention.” Her voice was sharp, but she turned to him, her arms welcoming. “You will arrange it, won’t you?” she said against his mouth.
Clayton would have promised almost anything at that moment, but it wasn’t necessary. Anna’s legs entwined his own.
When at last they rolled apart, the sun had set. Clay could no longer see the enchanting curves of her body. It didn’t matter. They were branded into his flesh. He was dozing off when Anna touched a finger to his lips.
“Thank you.”
He grinned into the dark. It was nice to be appreciated in bed. “Anytime, ma’am,” he said, his words drowsy.
“So when can I go?”
His eyes flew open. “Go?”
“Yes, go. You know to Germany. As I was saying before…” She kissed him gently on his forehead.
Oh God. Not Germany again. Had he agreed? He sighed heavily. Anna Wassar was a doctor of social anthropology with an obsession: Germany, during Hitler’s war.
Category: Uncategorized /
I love you.
My friend Rhea
On Tuesday, April 26, 2011 I will say my final good-byes to a dear, dear friend. I called her grandma even though I’m much to old to be her granddaughter. Twice a week she would call. If I called her she’s chastise me. I shouldn’t spend the money, because she had a special long distance telephone plan which allowed her to call me at no cost. We talked about this and that and nothing special, but at the end of every conversation we said, I love you, knowing we would say it again next week.
If she had lived just a little longer we would have spent Easter together, enjoying food and playing cards. We would have celebrated her ninety-sixth birthday. She would have dressed up — she always dressed up — and looked beautiful. She was an inspiration, an example, a heroine for those of us who might fear the path to old age. She was quick to be a support and slow to judge. I will miss you my dear friend Rhea. I love you.
Rhea
On Tuesday, April 26, 2011 I will say my final good-byes to a dear, dear friend. I called her grandma even though I’m much too old to be her granddaughter. Twice a week she would call. If I called her she’d chastise me. I shouldn’t spend the money, because she had a special long distance telephone plan which allowed her to call me at no cost. We talked about this and that and nothing special, but at the end of every conversation we said, I love you, knowing we would say it again next week.
If she had lived just a little longer we would have spent Easter together, enjoying food and playing cards. We would have celebrated her ninety-sixth birthday. She would have dressed up — she always dressed up — and she would have looked beautiful. She was an inspiration, an example, a heroine for those of us who might fear the path to old age. She was quick to support and slow to judge. I love you Grandma and I will miss hearing your voice.
Category: Friendship /