Making a Commitment to Myself


Well, Sasha has purchased a new toy.  A computer that is dedicated to her writing and her work.  I know, I’ve got to stop talking about myself in the third person.  I know, I have to get off my proverbial and start writing with the intention to finish something (I’ve written a lot in the past two years but not a lot of it is ready to share).  I know, I have to complete the fanfiction stories that I’ve left hanging (can someone tell me what Making Mia is all about?).

Well, life hasn’t been kind in that regard, but I’m going to push through.  So, this is my commitment to myself.  Sasha is going to make a writing comeback.  There will be blog posts, snippets of the my WIP and more creative sharing.  I will go back to fanfiction and finish what I started.  If you’re still out there, I’d love to hear from you.  At least jump on board and wish me luck.  Now… where did I leave my pen?

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Spies In The Night – An Excerpt from Blackheart Legacy #3


The streets emptied quickly as footfall of twenty soldiers echoed off the cobblestones. The rain lent a slack cadence to the wet leather as they made their way steadily toward the town square.  Locals knew better than to be visible but he wasn’t a local.  Still, sliding into the narrow gap between buildings, he would do better if he made his way to the cathedral rather than stay where they could find him.

He cursed. The girl had disappeared into the shadows like a ghost and now he had to play cat and mouse with the cavalry while she vanished into thin air, yet again.  How very like her to bring such luck down upon her sorry arse just when he was getting closer.  He had to hand it to her though, as far as chameleons went, she was one of the best, maybe even better then him.

The cloisters were ringing with the sound of angelic singing. There was a time when that might have brought him some peace but under current circumstances the chanting only served to grate on his nerves.  Moving with stealth, he climbed the monastery wall and began to circumnavigate the square via the rooftops.

The troop make its way across the square to the main avenue and he observed as they merged into the shadows beyond.  He assumed that they were on their way to the general’s palace.  They wouldn’t return until morning.  A movement to his right, caught his attention.  She was there, peering out from behind the statuary, probably ensuring they were gone before she made her move.  Just as he raised his head, she looked up and froze.

Seizing the moment, he leapt from the low roof and ran as fast as he could toward her.  She had twenty feet to work with and made the most of it as she picked up her skirts and charged for the gap to the south of the square.  She was fast, but he was faster and he caught her just as she was about to climb a garden wall.

“Not so fast, Mademoiselle. I believe you have something of mine.” Holding a small dagger to her throat was effective enough to halt her struggles.

“I have nothing of…” Before she could finish the lie, he hoisted the heavy skirt and slid one hand between her thighs.  Her breath hitched and he would have been tempted to linger a little while as the scent of her arousal hit him but then his fingers brushed over the leather strap and his mind came back to the task at hand.  Following the line of leather he pulled the string until the satchel fell from her thigh into his hand.

“Now, you don’t, Mademoiselle.” Weighing the satchel, he figured he had what he was after and there was no need to waste a moment checking the contents.  Slipping the satchel into the opening of his jacket, he tucked it safely against his side so that it was secured by his belt.  All the while he held her tight against his thigh, the knife against her pretty throat, so that she would not attempt an escape.

“I would have given them to you, for a price.” Her hands were tugging at his arm, even though the blade had to be doing damage.  She was a feisty one.

“Really. Come now, little one. We both know that they will be useless if they don’t reach the right people tonight.  Waiting until tomorrow to give me what I need tonight makes your offer less palatable. Besides, why would I take your soiled goods?”

Her heel met his chin with surprising force and he almost let her go. “You bastard. Neither you nor your damn letters are worth the price of my body.” She followed that by spitting at his feet.

“You missed. And since you’ve never had my body, how would you know.  I assure you, I’m very good.”

“I would not let you fuck me, Monsieur.  I fear whatever diseases you might carry.”

The temptation was far too much.  His free hand went to her breast and he squeezed as his mouth descended on the skin of her neck.  She should be filthy with the street but there was an essence that washed away the dirt.  Turning her head to look at him gave him enough purchase to crash his lips against hers and their tongues swept around each other in a pure battle of will.  He dropped the knife and turned her in his arms, crushing her against his chest as her arms went around him.

“Benjamine.  Why do we play these games?” He whispered into her mouth with a moan and prayer.  Christ, this woman was perfect.

“Because you love the thrill of the chase.” She ground her hips against him, teasing his hard cock between the layers of thick fabric. Her foot slipped around his leg, hooking him firmly against her body.  It was all too much. The scent of her, the feel of her. Damn, if he didn’t take her now, he would explode with lust.

“Let me…” He didn’t get the words out before she pulled him off balance and he landed squarely on his arse on the hard, wet stone. She bent to pick up the knife in one hand and then revealed the satchel in the other as she laughingly backed away. “Fuck!”

“That is no way to talk to a lady.” The heavy French accent filled the air.

“You’re no lady, Benjamine.”

“No, and that is why you love me.” Giggling, she picked up her skirts and started to run toward the avenue.  “I’ll say hello to Haverstock for you.”

For a moment, he thought about giving chase again but there was no sport in that. She would make her way to London and away from this hell hole soon enough.  At least for a little while, he could imagine she was safe. Instead, he stood up and brushed himself off before slipping back the way he had come.

Blackheart: The Final Chapters


 

Howard Pyle [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

My deepest apologies for those of you who do not follow me on fanfiction.net and have been waiting patiently for the final chapters of Fifty Shades of Blackheart.  They are here in all their unedited glory.  I think I had to reteach myself how to use WordPress, it has been so long.  Please be assured that I am not running out of ideas, I simply haven’t had time in my real life to dedicate to this world.

Just to let you know, this story is being recrafted into a series that won’t be published as Fan Fiction.  Working title is The Blackheart Legacy.  A lot of planning and plotting has been going on in my time away, even if I have been unable to fully execute the writing of those stories.  I want to spend some time introducing you to the characters in the next few months while I get that story underway and I will be giving you some snippets of the planned four (perhaps five) stories as they begin to emerge.

In the meantime, please go and read the last chapters if you haven’t already seen them in fanfiction.net.  I welcome your comments and I will be trying to be more active in this space from here on.

 

Chapter 17 The one where we find out who the little boy is

Chapter 18 The one where we find out what a scheming ferret Jackson Hyde really is

Chapter 19 The one where Christian nearly loses Ana

Chapter 20 The one where we say goodbye to our hero and heroine…for now

 

 

Blackheart Ch 10 – the one where Ana gets horny and makes plans to find Blackheart


Moving quickly through the room, her hands were shaking as she fingered the locket. She had taken it upon herself to try to elicit the whereabouts of Blackheart from the villagers and although no one had been entirely forthcoming, there were snippets of information that Ana was currently turning over in her head. She had dropped into the inn to see Madame Fleur and the innkeeper had shared her knowledge of the trouble spots on the coast road with regards to recent smuggling activities. Ana had asked under the guise of keeping herself safe on her rides. Now crossing to the to the large map table, Ana studied the map Christian had in the library of the local area. Having considered Madame Fleur’s advice she had determined the two most likely places to find Captain Blackheart.

Ana traced the line of the coast road with her finger, committing it to memory. Her back ached from leaning over the map table and she straightened up looking about the room as she did so. The memory of the bookshelf came back to her as she glanced to the corner. Had she imagined that it had opened? She knew that there were often secret passageways in old houses, the remnants of Tudor times when priest holes and escape routes were a necessary part of the architecture. Could that really be what she had seen?

Read Chapter 10 here

Blackheart Ch 9 – the one where Ana bursts into Christian’s room


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Entering the room, Ana saw Christian lying on the bed, his shirt open, revealing the taut muscular chest. Meanwhile Mrs. Jones ministered to him. His face was twisted in pain as the housekeeper ripped his breaches from hip to knee in a sudden movement. Ana gasped as Christian writhed.

“Aaarrggghhh!” Christian’s head was tossed back against the pillow, his face sticky with sweat. The veins of his neck stood out as he gritted his teeth against the pain. Mrs. Jones glanced over her shoulder as Ana moved closer to the bed, then returned to what she was doing. Christian’s thigh was exposed showing a large angry gash high up on his outer leg. The flow of blood had already been stemmed and Mrs. Jones was cleaning the wound and applying a salve.

“What on earth?” Ana’s first instinct was to cover her mouth and clutch at her breast. She did not easily faint at the sight of blood but the shock of seeing Christian in so much pain was unbearable. His glazed eyes focused and fixed on hers and her next impulse was to run to his side and hold him. Just as she was about to do exactly that, he yelled.

“Get her out of here.” It took a moment for Ana to realize that Christian was talking about her. She looked from Mrs. Jones to Taylor. Nobody moved. “Taylor! Get her out!”

Read Chapter 9 here

Blackheart: Ch 8 – the one where Ana gets snubbed by the locals


“Are you enjoying your visit to Faversham?” Mrs Jones looked like she knew the answer already. Somehow Ana was going to have to pick the woman’s brains regarding the strange attitudes she had encountered. Mrs Jones didn’t pause for Ana’s answer but picked up the cup and carefully raised it to her lips.

The murmur of voices had resumed enough for Ana to be sure that they could not be overheard. “Yes. The town is very pretty and surprisingly busy.” She refused to say anything else about the strange attitudes that she sensed. Not yet, anyway.

“The bastard Captain’s new mistress, no doubt.” Two women were seated at the table adjacent to Ana’s. They were smartly, if somewhat unfashionably attired, so she was sure that they must be wives of important local landowners or businessmen. Both women paused their cups at their lips, as they leaned in to talk in raised whispers. “I hear she was a servant. Rising above her station, thinking to marry the son of a Duke. A failed naval captain, if you please. She’ll be another slut, like the others. Probably leave her brats all over the countryside and run back to the city. More for his collection of waifs and strays. Wouldn’t be surprised if she’s foreign, like the others.”

Read Blackheart: Chapter 8 here

Blackheart: Chapter 7 – the one with a standoffish spouse


Christian sat at his desk studying the papers before him. The candle flickered, breaking his concentration and not for the first time tonight, his thoughts went to his wife. Her cool demeanor was a mask. He knew this for certain because he had perfected his own over the years. She was protecting herself, against what, he was not sure. All he knew was that the feisty and passionate woman who had confronted him on his ship and challenged his alter ego on the dance floor, had suddenly retreated into this empty husk, who had barely walked through the past few days leading up to their wedding.Her reserve had warned him to be patient but her latent tears had ripped at his heart. Within those pathetic murmurs he heard all of the passion she had been denying and he had very nearly gone to her. Instead, he had stilled his hand upon the handle, rested his forehead against the door and simply listened to all of her pain, wishing for the first time since he had approached her father, that he had done things differently. All of the decisions he had made were for their collective good. At the time he had been certain of his motives, but in being so convinced of what he thought was right, he had removed her choice in the matter. So he had stopped himself from going to her tonight, choosing not to force himself on her, as many husbands did to their wives. Instead, he hoped that, as unworthy as he was to be a husband, he could love her enough for the both of them, and in time, she might learn to love him in return.The clock chimed two and Taylor entered the room.”We're ready, Sir.”Christian nodded, locked the papers in his drawer, donned hat and cloak and followed his man through to the library.


Read Blackheart: Chapter 7 here