Saturday, March 27, 2010

Let Me Clear My Throat

I've been neglecting this blog again, mainly because I am currently experiencing the joy that is
househunting during what the newspapers are calling a housing crisis (which is probably an exaggeration, but not much of one). Hopefully I will find somewhere that is cheap and not too nasty before my lease is up. In the meantime I am not getting a whole lot of reading, let alone writing, done.

I'm still waiting to hear back about a few stories, and will hopefully be able to link to some more of my stuff online, or places you can buy it, soon. For now, enjoy this video. It has nothing to do with anything but it cheered me up:

Thursday, March 11, 2010

This is another story for one of Alison Tyler's contests. This time I tied for second place, which I was pretty happy about.

I'm also working on some longer stories and should have one out in ebook form soon. I'll post more details when I know what's happening. In the meantime, here is...

Better Late Than Never

“Sorry I’m late honey!” said Martin, coming inside. His wife sat at the table in a frilly apron patterned with red cherries, and as he came around the table to kiss her he realised to his surprise that she had nothing on beneath it. Inwardly he cursed his own tardiness. He’d been going over the Jenkins account while he could have been back here caressing his wife’s bare shoulders and hips as she stood at the stove cooking. Or dispensed with dinner altogether and just carried her into the bedroom. He felt himself stiffen at the thought.

“Never mind. Sit down.” Lucy gestured towards what looked to be a delicious roast chicken dinner. “It’ll be cold, but edible.” Martin had been married long enough to know that he was not yet forgiven for his misconduct. He took a couple of bites of chicken. “Lucy this is delicious! I really am sorry. I didn’t realise you’d go to so much trouble. I mean, the food, the wine, the candles-.“

He stopped and looked at the two brass candlesticks in the middle of the table. The right one held a tall white candle, producing a dim romantic glow. The left was empty.

“What happened to the other candle?”

“Oh that.” Lucy affected a casual air. “You were late and I got a bit impatient so I used it.”

“Used it? How?”

“Let me show you.”

She put one bare foot up on the edge of the table and reached for the candle.

Friday, March 5, 2010

"Like a penis, but reversible..."

I love this but it's dangerous if, like me, you often find yourself singing little snatches (no pun intended) of songs to yourself in public.

Sorry about the video quality. There was a better version but I couldn't embed it.
Also, I why don't I own a leopard print evening dress?