Showing posts with label Taylor Savior. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Taylor Savior. Show all posts

Thursday, October 23, 2014

A Taste of Thursday, 23 October 2014 ~ Taylor Savior "Moonbeams of Unintended Consequences"

Where are we today, on today's offering? Well...for 1) Thursday Taster... 2) Work-in-Progress... 3) A too long excerpt. I shall keep my intro short since I ran way over, but where to cut?

Lots of wonderful writers are offering up a sample from a current WIP. Please go read and comment or their work. A little encouragement goes a long way. The links are all over and they are also listed like painful tears, one by one below. 

Enjoy ~  ☼ o√ ¸.¨¯`*..*˜"*°

Read Previous Installments here:
First    Second     Third     Fourth     Fifth     Sixth     Seventh     Eighth     Nine     Ten     Eleven     Twelve


Moonbeams of Unintended Consequences
 “Finally, I am to gain her love. Not that I would not want more love in my life, however, why is that necessary, Aynne?”

“Because if she does not love you, Simon, she will never allow you to help her. She is hard to explain, but she does not want pity or handouts. She cannot be manipulated, even at ten. I have raised her to be too strong, I’m afraid, and prepare for a world in which she will have to take care of herself, to be anything she wants to become. It seems I didn’t teach her how to be graceful yet, in the face of her special needs. Ever since she was diagnosed with SCA, she has been involved in her recovery, long-term management and control of her anemia. The control gave her strength and a sense of responsibility in partnering with her medical team managing her healthcare. The authority, however veiled, seemed wise at the time since my parents were gone and she didn’t have any other family but me. What would she do if something happened to me? We – I – had to think in those terms early on. Oh, God Simon….what if…if…”

“One-step-at-a-time, Aynne. If I’ve learned anything at all in the last six years of my wife’s battle with cancer, and her subsequent treatment, it was to take everything ‘one-step-and-one-day-at-a-time’.”

“Of course, you are quite right. I have been. It was the only way I could make it through the long days of treatment and diagnosis. My resolve, however, seems to have weakened, not strengthened, in your presence. I have no doubts about your charm. I think you accomplished all three of those tasks with me before we had even spoken a single word. Certainly, after we did speak I trusted, respected and loved you almost immediately – even if it was only for one night.”

“Obviously, it wasn’t for just one night since we are sitting here, together ten years later, right now.”

Aynne blushed at the assumption that there was more to their relationship than that one spectacular night together lost in each other’s dreams of passion. “If you get that far with Lily, Simon, that is really only the beginning. You’ll have to be tested to see if you are a match and if you are then you will need to be prepped for organ extraction and live donor surgery.”

“I hadn’t thought that far ahead. Aynne, I…I…”

“I know, Simon. I know.”

“I have a family…”

 “I know.”

“…children of my own and a dying wife that needs me now more than ever. My children know their mother is dying, that it is just a matter of time before they lose her forever. They need me now. Doing this will cause them to think that they may lose me too."

 “I know.”

“I can’t think of jeopardizing their security, their courage, their happiness all of that and more for …”

 “I know.”

“I, I’ll have to think about it.”

“I know, Simon. I understand; I really do.”

Aynne began to weep silently. Finally, unable to hold the tears back against the strain, the pressure, the singular responsibility of Lily’s life that she held in her hands, she was overwhelmed. It was too much for some couples, let alone one woman. She felt the weight. She felt the burden. She felt the pain of it all, the decade of doctors, medical clinics, and specialists – lonely tears. She felt the unfettered voluntary yoke of love.

“Aynne, please do not cry, not now – please. We’ll feel like we are doing something if I get tested. I can do that here in Chicago, first. That is one step, let it be the first step, in the right direction. If I am not a match, everything else is moot and Lily won’t have her hopes built up  only to dash them. We will have to figure something else out. Let me do some research. Please, please…stop crying. And let your doctors know to release any necessary information about Lily to my physicians and we’ll take it from there. Okay? Please, please don’t cry. We’ll figure this out, we will; I promise. And we’ll do it together. Lily is, after all, my daughter, too.”

His confident reassurance unlocked the remains of her resistance. Aynne dropped the cup and saucer on the Oriental carpet and she felt even more hopeless, more helpless. Simon rose and in one swift moment, he was at her side. He gathered her in his arms and she allowed him to collect all of her fears and emotions in a single commanding embrace. Everything raced back to her in strobe-like speed and flashes from the one night they spent together in the candle lit, flickering shadows of an old historic hotel. She crumbled to his will in his firm and reassuring grip. The burden under the weight of the unintended consequences of their shared passion at last shared.

“Yes, Simon. Lily is your daughter, too,” and Aynne wept, helplessly.

He let her weep as he supported her weight and she restored some strength. He cooed softly into her hair as he stroked her, inhaled her essence, and comforted her as she regained her composure. The distance, the years, the separate lives vanished and they were swept back, back into their suite at the Hotel Whitcomb, Room 457, riding the glittering stars and the glistening moonbeams as they swirled and rose around them with the ebbing flow of their love. She was lost in her love for him, again and still, as she knew she would be if she ever saw him again let alone share a single breath and heartbeat.

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Thursday, October 16, 2014

A Taste of Thursday, 16 October 2014 ~ Taylor Savior "Trust, Respect and Love"

Let's see what today brings us on a Taste of Thursday. Will it be sexy and erotic or heartfelt and touching? We'll see. If it is none of those things, I hope it is illuminating. Most life stories are...I know mine are...

Have a quick read then run, yes - run, over to my prurient partners listed below and above to get to them and read what they have to serve up to you. You will be so glad you did. 
Enjoy ~  ☼ o√ ¸.¨¯`*..*˜"*°

Read Previous Installments here:
First    Second     Third     Fourth     Fifth     Sixth     Seventh     Eighth     Nine     Ten     Eleven
Lily at 6
“I need a plan. Some sort of plan. I have been so overwhelmed, no one to turn to, oh, Simon. She’s my little girl; I can’t let her die. Please, Simon, please help me. Help Lily.”
“Of course, Aynne; I’ll try. I will help you, if I can. I will do anything for you and Lily.”
“The first thing is to meet her. I would like that and I think you would, too, and she will need it. I am sure you will enjoy her. I have no control over what she will do with you, what questions she will ask of you or how much she will want to know.”
 “That seems fair enough, for now, and easily done. I have been accused of being charming by a woman or two in my life; I think I can take on a ten year old. And then…?”
 “None of this will be easy; with most of it you will be on your own with her. But the value is that you will earn a place in Lily’s life forever – and her love. Simon, Lily has always known about her condition, her Sickle Cell Anemia. She has managed her health as much as a little girl could handle. She knew what she was supposed to feel, when and how. She knew when she was having an episode and what to do, whom to tell or whom to call. She grew up so fast with her health under constant surveillance. I am afraid I have raised her to be a little too independent, too knowledgeable. What I am trying to say is, she is fully aware of her condition. She knows she will die if we don’t find a donor and preferably a live donor, which will be so much harder.”
“So, this is where I can help.”
“I hope. She is a very proud little girl, and very, very smart. She has been raised around adults and is keenly aware of what they can, will and won’t do, if it serves them. As a result, she is somewhat suspect of adults and certainly of strangers. She will be especially wary of you because you are my friend and… you are black. She will guess, I am afraid, our relationship, or guess at one anyway. You will have to earn her trust only because she doesn't want to be a burden to me and she does not know you. There are three things you must do first, I think and after you have done these it will be up to you how much farther you want to go with her. Then she will have to decide how much further she wants to take it with you. But it will all be worth the effort, in the end, I have no doubt. You must gain her trust, earn her respect and, finally, she must willingly give you her love, or nothing we strike out to do will be accomplished. I don’t think I need to remind you of the dire consequences of failure. I am afraid I have raised her in my liking and, as my mother raised me, to be independent. She is a headstrong little girl, determined and well informed about her condition. I have to respect that she will decide her fate, or think she is anyway, and with whom.”
         “She sounds a lot like her mother, at least the woman I knew a decade ago.” 








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Wednesday, October 8, 2014

A Taste of Thursday, 9 October 2014, Taylor Savior ~ "Into the Stars and Night Above"

Ahhhhhh, mes petites chou-chou, 'tis Thursday again and you know that means you are in for another Taste of Thursday. I have been working on a piece for Decadent Publishing and we have discovered a lot in the past few months. What does today have in store for us? Well....you will just have to read on to find out.

Once your appetite has been stimulated, you'll want more...and more...and more. It is inevitable. Have a sweaty slither over to all the other authors and see what peek they will give you into their WIPs. You can find them all listed like falling glitter below or click on any of the links. They are sure to be delicious.....
Enjoy ~  ☼ o√ ¸.¨¯`*..*˜"*°

Read Previous Installments here:
First    Second     Third     Fourth     Fifth     Sixth     Seventh     Eighth     Nine     Ten
Into the Stars and Night Above
Her eyesight adjusted to the salty sting of the remains of her excitement. Aynne lay on the bed in a heavy romantic ardor. The bathroom light that was on cast a golden glow from under the door. She heard the light switch off then the bathroom door opened and closed. She heard Simon walk towards the table where the champagne was still cold. She saw what she thought were two white burning candle tips in the shadows but it was the whites of his eyes reflecting the flickering, diffused , filtered light from the city outside through the window in their room in the shadowed night. He emerged quietly from the velvet darkness; his body took a glistening shape as it shone like a jewel with his perspiration.
The fevered sight of his naked body stole her breath and paralyzed her heart. Wanting to memorize every nuance, she stared at his chiseled good looks. His chest was shimmering: the carved perfection of a Michelangelo statue not of opaque pearlescent alabaster but of rich black onyx with a slightly amethyst undertone. The blackened skin-tight drape of the sweet shadowed flesh of a hungry man approached her, eager to indulge his insatiable, untamed fantasies.
She mistook a wicked twinkle as he approached; a half-smile lay in residence upon the angle of his chin and jaw. Then she realized quite instinctively, that she was deftly in control. At some point, every woman realizes her strength over men and awakens to use her womanly weakness most precisely.
He bent and one drop of his iridescent perspiration fell to her rising breast, searing through her pores straight to her heart. A thousand shimmering stars exploded in a radiant burst and fell to adorn their passions. He kissed her cheek ever so slightly, as a butterfly would settle and lite softly upon a feather. Aynne turned her face to his, seeking his mouth, and their lips touched gently then set fire to a smoldering eagerness within, igniting the tether that joined them. Their tongues collided in a fervent, heated tango and they tumbled from the suspended abyss into the boiling cauldron of volcanic passion that they shared. And they were lost, lost within each other: reaching, searching, touching trying to harness the rolling passion before another explosion cast them into the stars and the night above.

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Thursday, July 31, 2014

Thursday Tasters, July 31, 2014 ~ Taylor Savior "Yearned as One"

Thursday Taster comes alive with a boiling passion. Again, I am continuing my story about Aynne Taylor and her love and desire for a giant of a man, Simon D'Istrafrio, who is an imposing figure of a black opera star in San Francisco. When last we left them, Aynne was waiting quietly, patiently, for Simon to join her at the Whitcomb Hotel in room 457.

Please read the excerpt of my WIP, Taylor Savior, for Breathless Press. Below, you will find all the other skilled wordsmiths offering up an excerpt of their own work in progress for your entertainment pleasures. Please leave me a comment and then have a visit to my prurient partners and have a sweet read.

Wait...shhhh..he is here. Enjoy ~  o√ ¸.¨¯`*..*˜"*°        

"As our flesh grew and yearned as one..."

This huge giant of a man, as black a man as black could ever be, withdrew from her arms gently. He pulled back and looked into Aynne’s deeply emerald hazel eyes.
“You are magnificent, a beauty that captivated me the moment I went onstage tonight. You glowed like a vision, put before me as though you were a destiny, of sorts, I should never refuse. You looked like a dream, a virginal iridescent lily, petals open – beckoning - in a sea of thorns placed before me to enrich my life, somehow.”
“Simon,” his name fell from her lips in a honeyed slow whisper.
He ran the back of his fingers along the soft curve of her neck at her jaw from her earlobe to her chin where he stopped and placed his thumb on her ruby lower lip. He slipped his thumb into her mouth, parted her lips then pulled her tightly to his form and kissed her deeply as he pushed his tongue between her lips. He withdrew his thumb and left the hot wet digit on her cheek as he kissed her magically in a new beginning. He ran his palm to the spaghetti strap of her gown on her naked shoulder, hooked it with his deft thumb and dropped the strap over her shoulder to her arm.
His lips, in a journey of discovery, trailed down her neck and planted a kiss on the rise of her bare shoulder. A deep throaty quiet undertone carried his words to Aynne.
"I hope I can show you how I feel, how profoundly I need you.”
Her auburn hair fell away from her face bearing naked the object of his yearning. She felt her fevered cheek blush at having heard his soulful desire.
The flutter of thousands of wings exploded in her heart and her breath seized. Her palms grew damp, nervous in anticipation. Even with her eyes now cast to the floor, her body betrayed her own paralyzed passions. 
Her breast tightened around a stifled scream, allowing but a whimpered "............please" to escape and fill the room with her heat. She reached out with an eagerness she had never known yet knew instinctively. Her arms opened without her willing; she reached for him and wrapped him in her impatience. He pressed responsively against her. His body, his scent, the slight glistening of his perspiration on her cheek, weakened her resolve and Aynne’s knees buckled under the heady weight of her desire. She sighed into his chest as he caught her falling body. In the trail of his scorching touch, Aynne’s skin came alive with hunger.
 
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