Wednesday, June 19, 2013

Storms a Coming!

I love storms. A couple of nights ago, we had a fantastic electrical storm. If there was one lightning strike, there was two million. I have never in my life seen anything like it. The light show was to the north. I was in bed when I looked up at my stained glass window and noticed that it was eerily glowing like fifty candles was flickering behind it. I got up, and swear to God – I thought the world was ending. The sky was lit up – literally lit up – with star bursts of lightning from all sides, continuous – one poof of light after another as fast as you could imagine. And it continued in that same full sky - pop – pop – pop – pop for hours. I didn’t know if it was a tornado coming or if we were being invaded by aliens, but it is something I’ll never forget. I don’t think the lightning ever hit the ground, it just danced in the sky – it was mind-boggling. I guess you can tell from this encyclopedic explanation that it impressed the hell out of me.
I’ve always loved storms. I can sleep better when it rains. We have a steel roof so the sound of the downpour is magnified, but the roar just pacifies me, it doesn’t disturb me. Now, Jess is different. He doesn’t like storms and he especially doesn’t like to be out in one. When he was young, he had several different ambitions for his adulthood. At one time, he intended to be a herpetologist and study snakes. I think he desired to pursue that field of study just to irritate me, since all of you know how I feel about snakes. And then he saw TWISTER – the movie and he got it in his head that he was going to be a storm chaser. What you’ve got to understand, is that he would become as obsessed with these things as he is with Superheroes, now. Well, he was obsessed with Superheroes, then also. But Jess can be obsessive on multiple levels – simultaneously – it’s a gift. Ha! When he would focus on one these themes, it would consume our days. He would watch documentaries and read articles and follow me around telling me the different aspects of tornadoes and their velocity – F3’s – F5’s – the Wizard of Oz named measuring devices that he studied – it was all terribly important to him and not so important to me.
A funny thing happened when he was about thirteen or fourteen – I don’t remember the exact date, I’m funny like that – time just blurs for me, I never can remember what happened when. But he was still in his storm chasing mode and I had just purchased my dream car. It was a black S type Jaguar. God, I love that car. I kept it for years, and it always looked new. People would stop me and brag on it, even after it was six or seven years old. I finally gave it to Jess while he was in college, after he wrecked his pick-up – another story. Anyway, I was almost as obsessive about this car as he was about tornadoes. Nana was alive then, (remember Big Dicks in Arkansas and her loving to read my racy books?), she lived to be 94 and at that time, she was in her mid-eighties, I guess. Again, I’m not a good measurer of time. But we had gone on a little trip together – the three of us and a gentleman friend of mine. We had gone to Vicksburg, Mississippi on a ghost hunting trip and a little vacation combined. I love to stay in the Delta and visit plantation homes and ghost hunt at the homes and at the Civil War battlefields, nearby. Yes, my family indulged me, isn’t that sweet.
We were staying in Vicksburg at a nice inn. We had adjoining rooms, Nana and Jess in one and me and my beau in another. It was dusk. The TV was on and Jess was watching it, when he went crazy. Apparently, a tornado warning had been issued and a storm was heading right up the Mississippi and would strike Vicksburg within the hour – no question – this was not a WATCH – it was a WARNING. (I’ve always got those two confused, as to which is the most dire, I think it is Warning, although if some told me to Watch  - the tornado is outside your window – that makes sense, too.) Either way, this was a sure thing. The Tornado was almost on top of us. We were staying right on the river and according to the news report, we would be in the direct path. Well, we all responded differently. Jason was calm. We don’t have time to leave, let’s watch the reports, he would look out the window. “We’ll be fine.”
Nana believed in prayer. So, she started praying. Jess reacted the exact opposite to what we all expected. The storm-chaser had feathers on his legs. He was scared to death. He and Nana sorta teamed up. She grabbed him and they headed to the bathroom where she proceeded to climb in the tub and Jess was hauling mattresses off the bed to protect them in their small containment chamber. They weren’t really concerned about Jason and I – they were in their own little Panic Room. I was amused that the storm chaser now feared for his life, I had expected him to be outside in the rising wind trying to determine the direction and flow of the air currents with his dampened finger in the air.
But I – I guess I acted the strangest of all. I was worried about my car. It was new and the paint job was flawless. I couldn’t decide whether to jump in and try to outrun the storm or to stay and weather it out and try to protect my car. I didn’t want hail dents on my black satin finish. So, I tried to garner some help from my hapless family. I asked Jason and Jess to go lay on top of the car – they could cover most of the surface with their bodies and prevent a lot of real damage to the surface of my Jag. I was serious. It sounded like a plan to me – I even said Nana and I could lay on the top of the car – between the four of us, we could prevent it get too pock-marked.
Just for a minute – imagine the hullabaloo – Nana is praying to the Lord in heaven, Jess is spouting off statistics of death and destruction (from behind a mattress) and I’m unsuccessfully trying to solicit aid for my gorgeous foreign, expensive, sports car. And Jason is being calm and probably wishing he had seen this manic side of our family before he had decided to get involved with me.
Well, the tornado passed and we were unharmed. Nana and Jess survived the big blow and only had to deal with a lot of wailing winds. Jason didn’t disown us and my Jag looked as good the next morning as it had the day before. We had weathered the storm.
I intend to use what I saw in that spectacular electric storm as the first scene in Noah’s book. He awakens from a horrible dream and can’t stay in the house and takes off bareback on a horse through the storm, straight into Skye’s arms. It’s a pretty good scene.
In I’LL SEE YOU IN MY DREAMS, there was a storm of another kind. Aron’s disappearance. We will find out a lot about that in SKYE BLUE. So, bear with me the storm will grow dark and the rains will blow, but there will be a brighter day for the McCoy clan tomorrow.
But here’s a snippet from I’ll See You In My Dreams – enjoy.

Here’s the link to the eBook on Amazon:
Here's the link to the paperback at Barnes & Noble:
My website:

She drew near to him; he could feel her heat before she touched him. Seemingly, without a qualm, she molded her body to his, pressing the pillows of her breast into his chest. Zane felt his cock jump. Holding his face steady with one hand, she kissed him gently on the lips.
“I need you, Presley,” he groaned.
“I need you, too,” she confessed as she continued to steal kisses from the corners of his lips. For the first time, Presley felt a heady type of feminine power. Zane wanted her and she was allowed to touch and kiss and enjoy his body. Oh, she knew that she was basically unschooled and probably not the kind of woman he was used to, but she had her hands on him now and this chance may not come again.
Sliding her lips down his neck, she kissed a path and started to pull his shirt from his pants with the other.
“Wait,” he stilled her hand.
His one word was like pouring cold water all over her, she stilled, moved her hands and stepped back, never saying a word. Presley had made a practice of never venturing where she wasn’t wanted – it just made things easier. “Sorry,” she said simply.
Zane heard the hurt in her voice. He knew she thought she had overstepped her bounds.  “No, hell no,” he grasped her arms. “I loved what you were doing, but it’s been a long time. I want to pleasure you; I don’t want to cum prematurely like some untried school boy.”
What he said made her feel like she could breathe again. “I don’t think you could do anything wrong with me,” she said softly. “I just love to be close to you.”
“Damn, you make me feel like a fuckin’ king,” he felt for her hand, spun her around and began walking. “Rex, I’m closing the door, Buddy – you’re on your own.”
Presley had to take double steps to keep up with him. “I’m nervous,” she announced, just because she thought he ought to know.
“Why?” He was a little nervous, too, but he had already expressed enough sexual trepidation to have his man-card revoked. What man told a woman that he hadn’t fucked in so long that he had little to no control? Well he hadn’t, in so many words, but he had been damn close.
Presley could tell they were in his bedroom, she could see the shape of a massive king-size bed, but – as usual – it was dark. Now if he could see her, she would opt for the light being off – but since he couldn’t, she wasn’t going to miss the chance to look at his beautiful body, no sirree. “Where’s the light, Zane?”
He veered to the left and stubbed his toe on something – “Ow, here,” and light flooded the room. “Come on to the bathroom,” he flipped that light on too.
With sureness born of familiarity, Zane turned on the water in a huge tiled shower. Presley looked around in awe. “This bathroom looks like a Roman spa, Zane.”
“Does it?” right now he didn’t care if they were in one of those outdoor stalls at a state park – if he didn’t get his hands and mouth on her sweet little body soon he was going to go mad. “Let’s get nekkid,” he quipped as he turned around and made a grab for her.
Presley didn’t try to elude him, she wasn’t stupid.
“Okay,” immediately her hands went to her own clothes. “I’ll undress.”
“Let me,” Zane had gone dead serious. “The only way I can see you is to touch you and I want to see you more than I want to see tomorrow.”
“Just as much as I want to look at you,” Presley couldn’t be quiet. She was determined.
“Okay, okay,” he had to smile. “Let me pull off my stuff and then we can get to the important part.”
“Speak for yourself,” she was grumbling just a bit and helping him undo his shirt all at the same time. “I love your body. You are so damn fine.”
Zane chuckled – he was having such a good time. How long had it been since he had experienced such joy just being with another person, especially a woman. What he had missed out on! It was unbelievable! “I am speaking for myself.” Together they got the buttons undone and he began to shrug it off his shoulders – and Holy God – he could feel feather light little kisses dusting across his chest. “Fuck!” The little vixen giggled.
“Pants, Presley,” was all he could say. She hopped right to it, he couldn’t fault her level of enthusiasm; they did have trouble with the hardware, though. Finally she just swatted his hands away, “Let me!”
“Yes, Ma’am, Miss Patience,” he stood still while she unbuttoned and unzipped. But when it came time to push them down, she relented.
“I guess you better do that, this is outside my area of expertise.”
“No problem.” If he weren’t so damn horny, he might pursue that line of questioning, but he was in too big of a hurry to think. Skimming off his pants, he pushed them aside with his foot and jerked down his shorts and kicked them aside.
“Oh my Lord,” Presley muttered under her breath.
“Do you like what you see?” God, he hoped so. He held his breath and he knew her answer when he felt the slightest brush of her fingertips down his shaft.
Zane’s whole body jerked and Presley was amazed at the response she could draw from this big, sexy guy. “Yes, I think you’re big and beautiful.” With a little more self-confidence, she wrapped her hand around the thick stalk and marveled at how hard and warm it was. As she caressed him softly, she let the fingers of the other hand trail up and down his hard, hair roughened thigh. God, he was all man! Especially the part she held in her hand. And this was supposed to fit inside of her? That might be a problem.
All right, enough. He wasn’t made of steel. “Hell, I can’t wait, Baby. I’ve got to touch you.” He slid his hands up her arms and held her head, kissing her hard. “Damn, I’m trembling.”
“It’s okay – it’s just me, I’m nobody special.”
Zane supposed her humble comment was meant to be comforting, but it just succeeded in making him crazy. “Hell yes, you’re special. Don’t you know what this means to me? You have no idea how lonely I’ve been.” He began mapping her face with kisses as he ran his hands over her shoulders, skimming down over her breasts. “Are there buttons, a zipper or over the head?”
It was hard to formulate words – a man was touching her body. She stifled a giggle, he had found the turquoise bead insets and were rubbing them between his fingers – and then – oh God! “That’s my nipples.”
“I’m blind, Presley Love – but I remember basic anatomy.” It was through her dress and her bra, but he was rubbing the little nubbins and the spark he was igniting between her legs was about to catch ablaze. “Turn around,” she did as he bid. Moving her hair aside, he slowly lowered the zipper. “God, you smell good, fresh and sweet as summer rain.” Zane parted the material and pressed a kiss right at the nape of her neck while he undid her bra. “Can I touch you?”
He was asking permission? Presley thought that was a given. “Yes,” her answer came out sounding like a croaky little frog’s voice.
“Good,” he slid his hands inside her dress, and around to cup her breasts, pushing her bra up and out of the way. “Oh God, yeah – you feel so good.” Her soft, luscious tits were more than a handful; they were round, firm globes that were smooth as silk with big puffy areolas and hard suckable nipples. He spread his legs and widened his stance so his cock could rub against her ass. “Presley – hell, Presley – I want you so much,” he nuzzled her neck as his hips involuntarily bucked forward, his hardness nudging her softness.
“I – uh – I, oh God, Zane – I want,” the last word rose in pitch and intensity, and it said it all – she wanted. Presley wanted Zane. New feelings and intense longings were swamping her senses. She laid her head back on his chest and just luxuriated in the wonder of his hands on her breasts.
Zane was in heaven. Why had he waited so long to experience pleasure such as this? As the sweet woman in his arms pushed back against him and whimpered, he knew why – he needed someone who would accept him just the way he was. And she did. “I need more.” More. He needed more of her. “Hold up your arms,” he directed. She did and he lifted the dress over her head. “Now turn around, Baby – I want to see you.”
She knew what he meant and her whole body quivered at the thought. “I hope you like me. And before the night is over, I want equal time.”
“I’ll give you all the time you want.” He rubbed his palms over the slope of her shoulders. “You are so dainty. Your skin is like silk.”
She eased a little closer to him; there was no way she could stay away. “Thank you, I love your chest.”
Presley leaned over and nipped him and Zane growled his approval as his hands returned to her breasts again, as if he couldn’t stay away. “Perfect. I love your tits.”
“Touch me, please.”
“Where, Presley?” Her desperation just fueled his passion. Being desired and needed was incredibly addictive.
“My breasts,” she whispered.
“I am touching you,” he crooned to her, suspecting what she was really asking.
“With your lips,” she said so softly he almost couldn’t hear. “If you don’t mind – that is.”
Sinking to his knees, he pushed her tits together and molded them in his hands, caressing and shaping them – rubbing his thumbs over the nipples. “You want me, don’t you?”
“Please,” she begged. He didn’t make her wait any longer. Zane wrapped his arms around her waist and took a nipple in his mouth and began to suck. Presley couldn’t help but watch his face, his lips as they worked at her nipple. The sensation was exquisite. She clasped his head and stroked his hair as he nursed at her breast. “That feels so wonderful, Zane,” she praised him.
He switched to the other breast to suck and let his hands explore. Her waist was small, and her hips flared just right. He traced her curves and the image in his mind of her gorgeous body made his lust rise even higher. He opened his mouth wider and drew hard on her breast and exulted in the moan that escaped her lips.
Presley pressed her thighs together, she was so very wet. Hunger for him consumed her. More than anything she wanted to ask him to touch her between the legs but she couldn’t bring herself to ask. What she was receiving from him was more than she had ever expected. He was licking all around her nipple, nipping and nuzzling and his hands were now moving lower, skimming over her thighs and down her legs. Zane was learning her body.
Pulling back, Zane sought for control. “You’re beautiful. Your body is perfect. I can’t believe how fuckin’ perfect you are. Presley Love, you have long, smooth, supple legs that I can’t wait to feel wrapped around my waist, a spankable lush little bottom, a tiny waist and tits that a pin-up girl would die for.”
Zane thought she was beautiful. To Presley, his words were a miracle. Of course, he couldn’t see her face, but right now – that wasn’t important. She caressed his shoulders, loving how his powerful biceps flexed. He was holding back. “What’s wrong?”
“I want you so much,” he ground out the words. Standing up, he took her by the hand. “Let’s get in the shower, I want to kiss you.”
Presley didn’t want to complain, but a kiss was a bit anticlimactic. But she went, simply put – she’d follow him anywhere. The shower was huge, at least eight foot by five foot. And she counted an incredible fourteen sprayer heads. “This is more like a spa. I’ve never seen a shower like this.” The tile was cream colored with ornate accent tiles and a see-through glass door gave the illusion of privacy. She didn’t get any more time to examine her surroundings, because Zane pulled her against him and began kissing her voraciously - deep drugging kisses. Pushing her against the wall, he rubbed his cock back forth against her front, letting her know how aroused he was.
“Are you wet for me?” he fingertips danced over her lower belly, delving between her legs.
“Yes, I’ve been wet for you for days,” she admitted her weakness.
“Good, because you know I’ve been hard for you. Even when you slipped up to the couch to watch me sleep, I got hard for you.”
His revelation made her gasp and squirm. “How did you know?” God, she was embarrassed.
“I could hear you. I heard soft, little footsteps and shallow breaths that caught with excitement.” He trailed his lips over her shoulder and took the cord of her neck in his mouth and bit it gently. “And I could smell you, not only your natural sweet scent and perfume; I could smell your arousal.”
“Oh, God,” Presley wasn’t sure how to feel. Truthfully, she could only feel. He had stolen her ability to think.
 “Oh yeah,” he growled. “You’re wet. And I fuckin’ love the way your pussy feels. I like it that you’re not bare, but you’re soft and downy, trimmed short. I’m gonna love moving my lips back and forth over your treasure.” 
Presley’s womb contracted with need as he made a come hither motion with his fingers, spreading her juices from back to front. Her clit throbbed with anticipation and she was so overwhelmed with arousal that her whole body jerked in response.  
“Lean back, I’m going to pick you up.”
“What?” The next thing she knew, Zane had placed both hands under her bottom and lifted her up – and up.
“Put your legs around my neck.”
“Oh my God!” she grasped the ledge at the very top of the shower and held on for dear life. Her legs were splayed open and her pussy was right in his face. “I’m too heavy, what are . . .” And then he transported her to paradise as he began licking and kissing her slit, his tongue rasping over the tender flesh, singing it with each touch.
“Zane!” Presley cried out as she arched her back and pressed her shoulders against the wall, pushing her pelvis more fully in his face. “I need you, please,” she moaned. This was pure heaven. It was unadulterated ecstasy. “More, more,” she pleaded. What Zane was doing to her was the most pleasurable thing she had ever known in her whole life.                        
Lord help, she tasted good. Zane flicked his tongue around the perfect berry of her clit and reveled in the honey he lapped up with his tongue. Presley wanted him. She wanted him – the blind man. He was pleasing her; he was making her pulse with joy. “Cum for me, Doll. Let me know how much you want me.” He closed his lips over her clit and began to suck and hum and she went wild. Tightening his grip on her waist, he held her steady while she bucked and jerked in his arms.
“God! Yesssss! Zane! Please!” Sweeping, sweet arcs of pleasure whipped through her body as she panted and strained to get closer to him. Even in the dampness of the shower, perspiration beaded up on her body and it was because she was on fire – literally on fire for a man for the first time in her existence. “I don’t think I can stand it,” she whimpered.
Oh, yes she could. He was going to give her everything he had and then he was going to take all she would give him. Zane ached. His very soul hungered to become one with this woman. His cock was so swollen and distended that precum was leaking from the tip. If he didn’t get some relief soon, he would explode involuntarily just from giving this incredible woman sweet pleasure.
Moving one shoulder farther under her, he freed one hand to play with. Flicking his tongue on her clit as he suckled, he pushed two fingers inside her tight little canal and eased them in and out – in and out and when he did she screamed – she literally screamed and it was the sweetest sound he had ever heard. Zane Saucier had brought a woman to a raging orgasm and he felt like a fuckin’ king.
Stars exploded and galaxies collided as Presley felt for the first time an orgasm she didn’t give to herself. He held her while she quivered, letting her down slowly, her body sliding against his. “Thank you, Zane. I loved it, thank you so much.” Her adoration and gratitude couldn’t be contained.
“It was my pleasure, Presley,” and that was no lie. Cradling her next to him, he loved how her body molded to his. When her little hands edged between their bodies and found his cock he almost went to his knees. “God, yes,” he groaned.
Presley sank down, unsure of what she was doing, but determined to do it anyway. She held his member and caressed it, rubbing her cheek against it. This was part of him and therefore it was beautiful. She held it upright and licked it from bottom to top. For every little move and touch she gave him, he rewarded her with a moan or gasp. Clearly, Zane was not unmoved by her attention. With a tiny smile, she studied the head of his cock. “Can I taste you?”
“Yea,” he growled, the only word he could manage to say.
Presley was desperate for him; her lips trembled as she licked them. Could she do it? He was big and hard, heavy in her hand, the base so thick that her thumb and second finger wouldn’t meet. The huge mushroom head was dark red and throbbing and she couldn’t resist swiping her tongue across it. The drop of clear liquid at the tip was salty and tangy and she wanted more. Fitting her lips tightly to the top, she slipped them down and over, sucking the end of his cock into her mouth and swirling her tongue around it.
“Ah, damn,” he groaned as he held her head, tangling his fingers in her hair. “That’s so good. Suck me, Baby.”
Ecstasy made Zane’s toes curl. The muscles of his legs became like stone. All of his concentration was on his cock as it was enveloped in the wet, hot haven of Presley’s mouth.
What the hell?
Presley, bless her heart, was so into sucking him that she couldn’t hear whoever was beating down his front door. Hell! God, he was close. This little angel was sipping at his cock like it was the finest wine and if he had to. . . .
“FUCK!” he bellowed and Presley jumped.
“What’s wrong?”
“There’s somebody at the damn door and they’re not going to go away.” Shit! “I’m sorry, Baby.” He stepped out, grabbed a towel and stalked out of the bathroom. “Somebody better goddamn be dying.”
Presley stood up and stepped out of the spacious shower. She took a towel and dried off and slipped back into her clothes. What had happened? She heard voices.
“Who is it?” Zane asked gruffly as he swung the door open. “This better damn well be something important.” He had just walked away from a beautiful woman and a blow-job and he was not happy.
“Zane, God, Zane, we need you. Why didn’t you answer your damn cell phone?”
It was Noah.
“I was busy,” he expected Noah to realize he was standing here in a damn towel and get the idea that he might possibly have feminine company.
But he didn’t. Instead Zane heard him hit the door facing with his fist.
“Get in here. What’s wrong?”
“He’s missing, Zane.”
“Who’s missing?”
“Aron. Aron’s missing.”
“What? How?” Zane felt a horrible feeling in his gut.
“He and Libby went snorkeling and when she came up – he didn’t.”
“God, are you sure?”
Noah’s voice cracked. “Yea, I’m sure. Zane, can you come help, please?”
“Let me get my pants on, we’ll be right behind you.”

Thanks for reading.

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