Secret Message

paint over it in black

Pinterst Image



the desire to start over is so strong

I am overwhelmed by the need to

burn, cover and toss

(the fire pit knows my name)

instead, this time,

I am going to deviate into a radically differently direction

taking the bits and pieces of creations past

create a canvas of chaos

weave words into connection

I have no idea, no plan, no long term goal

except to write it out

and bare my soul

it probably is not going to be a work of diary-like, non fiction

(been there, tried that, not so much for me)

it feels like it might be poetic truth telling veiled in fantasy

(this excites me!!)

a bit unknown

but I will

be a voice not an echo 2

House of Hispters free printable


the secret stuff I hide from myself…

What you need is out to find you


A Proposition

He & she both seeking the solace of another

soon to realize, the one they are needing to discover is actually each other

Finding the two at a hotel bar for a drink,

both sipping slowly and deep into think

He looking dangerous in a black suit and white shirt

eyes somber and not at all wanting to flirt

she looking ravishing with her hair done up high

a little black dress ending just at mid thigh

he stalks towards her space, when glances catch

she seems momentarily surprised

then lifts her drink and laughs into his dark eyes

“not able to find what you wanted & needed this evening?” she inquires

He responds deep and disappointed, “not at all, too many pretty little liars.

his voice descends to a dark whisper,

lips close enough to kiss her,

his index finger tilts her chin to guide her eyes upward to his own

“No more sexy banter and innuendo, my Queen.

Surrender all of you,

to me.”


Quinn and Ash {part 3}

He wakes from a night of terrible sleep upon a bed of cold, hard and lonely. Mind filled with violent dreams and unfulfilled cravings. He stays still and keeps his breathing even and eyes closed as he feels for his surroundings.

The surface he has been placed on is cold and unyielding, a slab of some sort. His ears tune into the spaciousness around him. No sound except  his steady breathing, hollow in his head. He feels for the outline of each limb noticing no restraints on wrists or ankles. The scent invading his nostrils is of the mechanical sort. Harsh. Non human. He swallows the thickness collecting in his throat. Turning his head to the side as he opens his eyes and is met with light so bright he is momentarily blinded. A sneeze escapes and the light burns out.

She is standing just outside the door. Listening for his sounds of waking. She pauses her breath as images of his lips bring a smiles to hers. Her palms press against the door as if to push it open. She shakes her head and sighs. Behind her the sound of heavy footfalls approaching fast. She turns to take in the full sight of him. His posture is predatory, along with his glance. He is carrying a rope and a stoic face. She extends her wrists and closes her eyes as he pulls a blindfold from a back pocket.

He pauses with his hand on the back of her neck to the close the distance between their faces to ask,

“are you sure about this?”

Their shared brokenness keeping them apart.

She nods once and trembles.

“It is as it should be,” she lifts her head, turns around and is led down the hall.

A sneeze startles her and stumbles her step.

Her heart beat falters as well.

She is led by the Warrior to an open room.

“You will wait here for the Queen.” His words are filled with longing for another ending.

“There is still time to change this. I can keep you safe and hidden.”

She inhales and shakes her head.

A sharp tap upon stone is heard and a woman moves quickly to the throne as the front of the room.

“My Queen, here is the prisoner you requested.”

It is done then.

Leave us.


Quinn & Ash {part 2}

Behind the now down form, a male is revealed. Rope wraps around his torso, pinning arms and wings. His visage completely covered in darkness from a deep red veil. Hands hidden behind his back, head high, combat boots heavy and black with noticeable wear appear to hold down the pavement. A wide stance commanding his presence.  A surprising feat considering he is completely at the mercy to the one who holds the knots.

She lowers her weapon and puffs away a strand of hair from her face. The breath catches in her chest, ceasing the rise and fall while her heart beats in need. And longing. Her heart surges forward, reaching towards him and her body follows. Her deep eyes fixate on the individual behind the prisoner. His eyes a delicious chocolate brown evoking a passion for lust.

He keeps a tight reign on the entwined angel as his chest constricts and pupils dilate. This woman and the power she has over him is frightening. And freeing. He pushes the one imprisoned forward as she nods in approval.

Ash hums deep in his throat. “To do with as you wish, your Majesty.”

A sharp jerk of her head as if she has been slapped is quickly recovered with a deep breath and eyes widened and fierce to the Commander. A slight shake of head as her hand reaches for the ropes he offers.

“Well done, Warrior, ” she murmurs.

This one will make a most wonderful gift to the Queen. The angel trembles slightly beneath the bindings. She leans in to breathe him in.

A scent of apples and sunshine invades her nose as he jerks against the restraints.

“You are a most intriguing combination. Evil and good. Flight and grounded,

I wait in delighted anticipation for the plans set for you,” she says.

His silence is deafening and so very telling.

Quinn & Ash {part 1}


Her short black hair pulled back into a loose bun, tendrils escaping and fighting with the wind. Lush lips beneath dark eyes, searching for something in the shadows. Quieting footsteps while approaching a piece of paper caught on the edge of a trash can lid. She breathes in slowly and silently, inhaling the scent of approaching rain and sharp green apples. The fluttering paper is a distraction she remedies by pulling it away and shoving it deep into a pants pocket. Pistol back at the ready, finger behind the trigger, barrel seeking. The bricks of the building at her back, their surfaces still emitting warmth from the day, does little to slow the chill running up a spine.

Why is she here? What is she pursuing? What does she want?


Gun in slender hands ready to delete those who hunt him.

Predator senses on alert. She knows the smell of him. The freshness of his skin. She licks her lips in anticipation. Smiles in memory.

The breeze picks up and stronger swirls create an almost tornado effect. She pivots while crouching low behind a bag, nose to shoulder and eyes blink close, while drawing smiling lips between her teeth.

A Sanding rises from the pavement.

Monstrous in size, impressive considering the tiny particles of sand shifting together to create it. To watch it form means grit in eyes and stuck to lids. She waits until the breeze stills and the massive roar is heard. Prickles spring upon skin as her finger moves onto the trigger. Turning around on a heel, she takes aim at the wall of sand. A shot rings out and a wall of air bursts from the chamber*. The being-not-of-this-world collapses forward as the pillar of a leg disappears, blowing sand in the wind. Quinn seizes the opportunity and blasts the top structure off the beast, rending it motionless and only a pile of pale tan sand.

* this idea was formed from the fantastic RadioLab episode. Go snapping shrimp!!

next part posts Monday!







Quinn & Ash {prelude}

Running through a forest, toes getting caught on vines & crunching leaves.

Breathing heavy & eyes open wild for the fear is consuming.

Being pursued by one.

The moon obscured by clouds and the navigation through the trees is growing impossible.

She dare not glance back, for the pause would cause certain capture.

Running to her rapture.

The redemption in back-slidden existence.

Her eyes begin to blur with tears. On the brink of collapse she is suddenly lifted.


She is so tired. The surrender comes easily, like an exhale after a long hold. Her throat opens and head falls back. Body releasing in the arms which hold her. Darkness cloaks her now still form.

A cold blast of air hits her cheek and eyes pop open wide. A sharp intake of breath, jerks her body upright and her arms find his neck. Pulling herself closer to him and she looks down and sees nothing but air.

The plummet felt next is a surprise for them both. They are falling, turning in air with no hope to grasp. His wing is impaled by an arrow, blood staining white as altitude is lost.

She pushes him away, perhaps he can still lift himself without her weight.

His grip on her body tightens and she whispers, “let go. Not only my time for surrender.” Her lips find his for a light kiss as she grabs his wrists to unlock them.

He only wishes to save her from fate.

She wishes for him the same.

They fall.

Twirling in Twlight

moon and flowers

Whispering stories

by candle’s glow, creating

new realities.

Skipping through a forest in twilight

leaving real life behind, just for a bit

one stumbles upon a glade filled with space,

cool breezes and a bench

take a seat and

watch the stories unfold

A New Story Begins…

Chaos is an angel...

I am absolutely enthralled with this idea

So a story is born from the


The angle-he-Ash

The demon-she-Quinn

chaos and peace seeking

Let’s see what these two do…

You need chaos in your soul to give birth to a dancing star -Friedrich Nietzsche

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