31 Days of Halloween Tales - In the Name of Love

A tasty little story entitled:

In the Name of Love

"Two things you must know before you continue Quentin. First, what is once seen cannot be unseen. And second, and mostly importantly, you can't ever go back."

I stood before this gorgeous and delicious woman and thought how could I not do this. I loved her and no matter how I wished it wasn't so, that wasn't ever going to change.

I've always believed in Fate, that we are predestined to a path and should we attempt to veer from this path, the consequences would be dire. And Alyssa was my destiny. From the first moment I laid eyes on her, I knew it.

Two halves of the same soul, searching for one another. Her lonely soul called out to mine across miles, across ages and I was led to her by something we could never have foreseen.

What is an eternity if you are not with the one you love? She told me of the emptiness she had endured the last two centuries and I thought of what would happen to her if I said no to her now. Imagining my beloved Alyssa wandering this earth forever alone, I simply could not bear it. I would sacrifice who I was, who I was meant to be for her. For love.

"I understand my love, and I will not abandon you. I can no more change my mind than I can change my heart. Now, stop worrying, this is my choice and my will to do this."

I took her hand into mine and offered my throat in return.

Friday Freebie....

A sneak peek of a work in progress...This is the first draft...just filling the sandbox...

Declan O'Bran

May 4, 1912

I find myself once more at a beginning. The beginning of this writing...the beginning of a new... life? Or what may pass at this moment for life.

My name is Declan O'Bryan and although I am writing this, I am no longer of the living.

The events and memories are foggy and disorganized to me now. I was a traveler, just passing through Salem on my way home to Boston, stopping at the tavern for a drink to take the chill off my bones and find lodgings for the night. I remember this much at least..this much and the woman.

I arrived in Boston only two days ago. Is that possible? Is it possible that only two days have passed since I first walked the narrow streets of the North End? I can say it has been two days but in reality I no longer have any sense of time or urgency that I am aware of the hour. Except for the day's dawning. Of that, I remain keenly aware. I can sense the approaching sunlight beneath my skin, a hot, slithering bile that crawls its way just below the surface, lightly shimmering the blood within my veins. The weather in early Spring is still chilly enough to require a cloak but the chills that devour me have nothing to do with the temperature this morning.

To say she was beautiful would not do her justice. A long dark mane surrounded her heart shape face, a sharp widow's peak pierced her forehead like an arrow. Ebony eyes melded into her copper complexion, shades of mocha and black swirled together in an exotic blend.

I seemed unable to resist her although I am not one to indulge in pleasures of the flesh casually, yet when she took my hand into hers, I followed her to her room above the tavern without question or second thought.

I felt nearly as if I had simply fallen asleep and was wrapped inside the dizziness and desire of a sensuous dream. I could not move and yet I was able to follow her; I could not speak but yet I groaned outwardly. The overwhelming scent of a million spices filled her room and danced on her skin like sweet honey, making my head reel as it became more difficult for me to breathe with each passing second I was in her presence.

She closed and locked the door behind us and began to undress slowly, whispering to me in a language I could not understand but could only grasp the meaning as she smiled. In a moment she stood naked before me, proud, exquisite, long supple legs, full breasts, taunt ripe belly, her dark hair draped around her narrow waist in a sea of thick black waves.

I had never seen such a exquisite woman, nor never have I tasted such exotic flesh. and when she pulled me to her, I drowned within the agony of her embrace.

I awoke in a strange barn sometime later and she was gone. I was dressed again but could not recall how I had gotten there nor could I remember what had transpired. My body ached with fever and my throat burned with thirst. My stomach clenched as waves of agonizing spasms washed over me, leaving me curled tightly on the dirt floor. I trembled in the chill of the barn yet I could not find the energy to get up to venture to someplace warmer.

I knew I was dying even when I knew nothing else and seemed unable to help my situation.

Ashley Donaghue

July 1, 2013

How do I start this? How do I begin? Dear Diary? To Whom it May Concern?

And what shall I call you? Diary? Journal? My Inner Sanctum? My Subconscious?

I will write because I was told it would help, not because I particularly want to. I do want to feel better however, anything is better than where I am at at the moment.

And where am I exactly? Three months after a very public emotional break down and what the professionals perceived as a suicide attempt. Perceived is the key word here..

I could fail I suppose, return to that dark place that exists inside everyone of us yet no one ever wants to talk about. You know all about that place, don't you? When someone you love and count on is taken from you on an icy road on a cold April morning when all he wanted to do was surprise you with your favorite coffee from Starbucks when you woke up, that dark place is the only place left to go.

I'm strong, stronger than most but this one time I didn't want to be. I wanted silence and to disappear for awhile. I took too many sleeping pills and had too much wine that night but I didn't want to die. They got that part wrong but nobody seemed to care. No one but me.

Flash Fiction Thursday!!!

Every Thursday I attempt to write a short (250 words or less) story for a contest offered by fellow author and blogger, Siobhan Muir.  Some weeks it comes easy to me, the story writes itself. Other weeks I struggle and sometimes the story is so awful (in my opinion) that I don't offer it up. I usually do write something, however, whether I post it or not is another matter.

This week I wrote a little story, it started silly and turned into something else, as my work often does. I can't seem to write a straight romantic piece to save my soul and honestly, I have pretty much stopped trying. 

Without further ado...following is the link to my Flash Fiction for today where you can see it HERE in its abbreviated  form. 



And here is the whole story and nothing but the whole story...the expanded version of my Thursday Flash Fiction....Enjoy!!!  


Okay, so it was a blind date. Technically. I mean, it wasn't in the sense that I had met him on one of those freebie dating sites and therefore knew all his likes and dislikes, what his ideal First Date was, that he worked nights, and that he lived outside of Boston in one of the old neighborhoods. 

On the other hand it was a blind date in the sense that his online profile had not included a photograph and I was therefore walking into a situation that might require me to either endure a very long evening staring at my dinner plate until I could politely vamoose or (heaven forbid) excuse myself to the ladies room and attempt an escape out the door before he noticed. 

Luckily, I was not forced into either situation because Mason (DARK STRANGER) Elleridge was amazing looking and very easy on the eyes. Not to mention that he had taken over the entire restaurant for the evening and vanishing without a trace would have been quite impossible for me to do in the near vacant building.

Plus, there were roses...dozens of red and white  roses in clear crystal vases and thick white pillar candles...everywhere...and I do mean everywhere. If he was trying  to impress me on our first date, he was doing a helluva job. 

"Are you trying to seduce me, Mr. Robinson?"

I watched Mason's face twist slightly as if he were trying to figure out what the hell I was talking about. Seriously? What man over the age of fifty hadn't seen "The Graduate"? Had he been living under a rock?

I shook my head as the joke shot above his handsome head and disappeared into the darkness of the night sky. At six foot, thick black hair with just a smidgen of gray, and eyes like clear gray pools you could easily drown in, the man was definitely good-looking but not too quick on the uptake. 

"Just a joke, Mason. Don't look so panicky."

His gaze softened a little  and I caught a flash of pearly whites for the first time that evening. Wow, what bright teeth you have, Grandma...I thought it, but didn't say it. One joke bomb this evening was quite enough, thank you.

"So, do you come into the city very often?"

His voice, deep and rich with a heavy Irish brogue that made my knees weak and other parts of my anatomy tingle, whispered into my ear, "Only when I'm hunting."

I shuddered a bit, even his scrumptious accent couldn't  disguise the edge to his voice. What guy hunts in the city? What can they hunt in the city? I didn't think I really wanted to know but I couldn't manage to stop myself from asking.

"How do you manage that? I didn't think they allowed weapons inside city limits."

Mason leaned in closer and brushed his lips against my neck. I shuddered once again, this time for a different reason however, and felt myself slipping into his arms. I was unable to focus suddenly, my mind began to spin in a kaleidoscope of reds as the room around us disappeared from sight.  Desire rose in a deep blush across my skin and I felt the delicious sensation of warmth as he tore into the delicate flesh of my throat.

"It's easier than you would think, my darling, Emily... You simply have to bring the right tool for the kill."