Original Fic: Line in the Snow

[justin]

That was really good



It was interesting to see what katie went through during the incident. Though there is a, rather unsympathetic, part of me that thinks it was her own damn fault.



It's good that they're opening up to each other, even though you'd think they have their deep conversation somewhere a little less



looking forward to more

Postel's Prescription: Be generous in what you accept, rigorous in what you emit.

[sam darls]

That was amazing to read. I loved it so much. Love sammi xx

"Sometimes things happen between people that you don't really expect. And sometimes the things that are important are the ones that seem the weirdest or the most wrong. And those are the ones that change your life." - Jessie Sammler (Evan Rachel Wood)

[StrangeQuark]

Just finished all seven chapters in one sitting... whew.



I've been meaning to read this for some time now, but I've been a little lean in the free-time-to-do-things-that-I-enjoy department lately. What a wonderful reward I had awaiting me, though.



First, the characters are really three-dimensional. At times, it seems that you have an easier time making the non-narrative character more interesting, but the narrative character and her voice do have plenty of interest and conflict to go around. The characters do, as do most people in real-life, speak very much like each other, and at times, some of the untagged dialogue can be a little confusing. They do have distinctive personalities, but some of their deliveries and mannerisms are a little too much alike for my tastes. In real-life, many people, especially friends of the same age and peer-group will speak very much the same, and even share many of the same inflections and vernacular, but in drama, it is your job as the writer to simulate reality in order to make it more compelling. More real than real if you will... Don't mistake me on this though, you have an excellent ear for speech, and very good, solid characters delivering the dialogue. It's just that when it is not completely obvious as to who is speaking, that usually indicates that the character's personality could use a little further development/reinforcement.



On your second draft, look for the repetitive words. I have a big problem with them on my first drafts, since I'm just trying to 'spill' as much of the story as possible. Repetitive pronouns and reflexive pronouns are especially insidious. i.e. "SHE knew that SHE was with the person that SHE loved..." or "He gave it to HER and she wrapped HERSELF around it..." Stuff like that is very natural, conversational, but it does cloud the prose.



The suspension of mystery is very effective here. I knew what the deal was with the scars and the apprehension, but having that spelled-out to me was extremely rewarding. Well done.



The suspension of disbelief is a little weaker than I had hoped in regards to the characters putting themselves in a situation that invites a repeat of the previous trauma. Maybe something different could bring them together into the same circumstance and setting... false pretenses, maybe? I'm really picky about suspension of disbelief, since it is vital to a story and its characters not seeming 'forced.'



I really like the start/stop motion and the 'jaggedness' of the intimacy. It underscores the central conflict, introduces its own conflict, and really propels the motion of the story.



Physical descriptions are sometimes lacking here, but that's cool with me, since I don't have to know photographic detail of the already interesting and complex characters. Some may find this to be a little lacking, though.



There's a great dark current that underpins the plot, and the characters, but at times, the mood is a little too shifty and it tends to dilute the passion and emotion that I think the characters deserve to feel/demonstrate in certain scenes. I think that mood shifts are great, don't get me wrong, but some of them are placed in spots that tend to disrupt rather than refresh. Just my HO, though.



Patches, this is some great storytelling, and you have a great talent. You've already demonstrated that you know how to avoid some of the more esoteric mistakes, pitfalls, and stereotypes, and your character-development skills are really strong. I enjoy this piece a great deal, and wish that I had the time to critique each update individually, because I want to see this story evolve into something that better demonstrates your implicit ability and creative spark. Not that this story has any great lack... I love it, and its characters... but I think that with some small editing and refinements, it could be even better.



Again, don't mistake my critique for the negativity that it probably reads as... This is a great story, with great characters, written by a talented writer. Excellent work, Patches.



-SQ

[FlyingPoppy]

I finally have time to sit and write about this last part. I read it on Friday but my gf had a lot of work to do over the weekend which involved tying up the phoneline. Before you get all excited, no she doesn't run a 0800 number or whatever your equivalent is. The next thing that I need to say is that I ordered the first book, are you on commission by any chance??? Just tell me I won't know what's going to happen



I agree with your take on kissing, everyone's so quick to get people into bed...or on to the table...or whatever, not that I have a problem with that in itself So I can expect much more then? Feel free to tease away...



I'm glad I got to read your last two posts at the same time, I'd have been frantic had I read the first bit then had to wait. I just wanted to say that even without the 2nd bit it most definitely was readable. I know what you mean about reading stuff over and over and not being sure though.



Great idea to use the backdrop of the Leonids to make the lake even more spectacular. I'm not totally sure how I'm feeling about Katlyn at the moment. I take it from her reaction of being visibly shaken that she didn't know about Ari's fear of the dark the previous night, so turning out the light was just something she was doing as she left the room. I see why she set Ari up rather than say something about it to her, Ari asked her "Don’t say anything, promise me you won’t say anything,” she shook her head in response to this, which I took as her refusing, but she could have been shaking her head to mean "no, I won't say anything". Anyway, whichever way round it were, it would still make sense for her to not want to bring it up. I'm sure there was going to be a point there somewhere. Oh yeah, about Katlyn, I agree with Justin that part of me is shouting at her that it WAS her fault, at the same time she wasn't to know what was going to happen, so I think I'll try to lay off on the judgement for now.



I loved your description during the snowmobile incident, it was really easy to picture just what was happening. I don't even want to think about how much pain Ari would have been in. For something that has so little feeling to touch, scar tissue being stretched hurts like hell.



At least they're on the road of discussion now, we know that Katlyn still cared for her all along by the fact that she kept an eye on Ari's recovery. I can't wait to read what Ari has to say about it all next.



Is my dancing so bad you can't tell the difference between a Tango and Salsa?

For yesterday is but a dream, and tomorrow is only a vision; but today well lived makes every yesterday a dream of happiness, and every tomorrow a vision of hope.
It's never too late to be who you might have been.

[Patches]

Hi,



Sorry for the terrible delay with the update. Few things to sort out in RL kept my brain the better part of activated. I've sent chapter 8 for beta and it should be ready to go up in the next few day.



Will work on this and then do individual feedback before I post. Thanks all for your kind and instructive words, both are appreciated and taken to heart.



Thanks for Reading

Cheers!!

Patches

You know I've heard about people like me. But I never made the connection. They walk one road to set them free, And find they've gone the wrong direction. But there's no need for turning back 'cause all roads lead to where I stand. And I believe I'll walk them all No matter what I may have planned

[Patches]

Hello fair Kittens! Many appologies for the delay in posting. RL intrusions have made my life somewhat complicated. I still have responses owing for feedback - they will follow in a bit. I was postponing posting until I got caught up on the feedback, but since this chapter is written and the responses are still in my head - thought I'd go with what you can actually read. I can't thank you all enough for supporting me while I write. Always a challenge, but in the last while, never more so.



Much special thanks to Poppy for agreeing to Beta the rest of this story for me, starting with this chapter. Kind words and the odd (err... frequent) gentle boot to the butt have kept me writing when I otherwise wouldn't be, and helped me make this a better story. (So if you like this story, thank our good Kitten Poppy for its continuance.) Many, many, many, thank yous Poppy - you rock!



Thanks all for reading

Peace!!

Patches.







Chapter 8





It was pitch black. I struggled, my eyes not seeing past the darkness. Nothing there. No sight, no wonder to behold. Nothing. Blackness ensnared me, digging at my soul consuming me, tearing me apart. Fragmented memory, thought, feeling melded. I struggled against the overwhelming fear, panicked, despite her warning. My head pounded. I was dizzy. My heart raced and I trembled with fear. Images formed in my mind, memories, nights spent alone in the woods, dark nights, cold, wet and painful nights, abandoned and alone, melded with what I had no words for. My body relived pain and anguish. I tried to drive the images away, drive the pain away. It felt real, and I lived it again. The agony, a rotting jagged branch embedded in my leg. Torn flesh oozing blood, then coldness, loneliness, and fear.



“Shit!” The word tore from my mouth. Tears fell unbidden, soaking into her, freezing against her clothing, leaving ever darkening stains. Pain, new and old assaulted me as my body broke into a cold sweat. Useless, twisted anger flushed through my veins. I was safe; saying it over and over again would make it true, make it real. She was here with me. My arms tightened around her, feeling the solid flesh of her body, the reality of Katlyn holding me while I wept.



Katlyn's arms enveloped me, body pressed tight to mine as if with touch she could absorb my pain, take away my darkness. I wanted someone to, desperately. Sobs wracked my body, shaking, fists clenched, wanting to strike out at something, at anything that would take the fear away.



My cries echoed around us, carried on the stillness of night. God, how much can this hurt. For how long. Fighting for control, I slowed my breathing, relaxing into the warmth of her tender arms; letting the darkness seep slowly into night. Gathering courage, I looked into her grey eyes, no longer the colour of hardened steel, where tears glistened and slid silently down her cheek.



Neither of us spoke. One tear glistened at the corner of her eye. Slowly it grew, welled. Transfixed, I saw her tear break away and slowly roll down her cheek, as if it had all the time in the world. The life of one teardrop, refracting the little lights of the night sky, silhouetted in shadow, leaving a shining streak aside her nose and coming to rest at the apex of her lip.



I lifted my head and leaned toward her, to capture that single teardrop with my cold mouth, and reach out with my benumbed and lonely heart. Tentatively my lips encased her warm mouth, my tongue tracing Katlyn's full upper lip, tasting the salt from that single tear. Katlyn shifted, meeting my lips full on. Her breath warmed me. There was no urgency, none of the desperation of earlier. An acknowledgement of our shared pain. Could her arms wrap more tightly around me? Yes.



I savoured the taste of her breath, silky lips a contrast against mine, dry, cold, chapped. Warmth swept through me, breath quickening, savouring our contact, pushing away the brackish doom and cold, consigning the demon to the darkness and maybe one-day, oblivion. I closed my eyes and returned her kiss, pain ebbing.



Years melted away. Young bodies, a warm summer night, skinny-dipping and watching the Preseids smash holes in the atmosphere, lighting up the night. Laughing, joking, chasing one another through the water and along the beach. Katlyn's voice issuing a challenge, one not to go unanswered, “You can kiss me if… ya can catch me.” Chase her I did, through water warmed by the August sun, across the rickety wooden dock onto the sand, our bodies chilling in the night air. An innocent game of tag, a catch, a tackle, lips meeting, breathless and playful, on a dare. Then not a dare, innocent youth, awakening desire changing to deep passion, want. Hands and lips explored; mine, hers, bodies no longer cold. Katlyn's lips were greedy, consuming me with a kiss of fire, even in youth, skilled in the art of erotic tease. Holding Katlyn's body under me, wanting to taste her, touch her but at the last minute pulling away, our game no longer one of roguish innocence, now one that pushed beyond the boundary of friendship. A boundary, a line I'd determined never to break, fool that I was. But in my head, I'd heard the words; 'I can't destroy you with my poison.'



When had it happened? As I remembered the delicious first taste of her mouth, the intoxication of her scent filling my youthful senses, the way her lean body felt arching against me, my thigh slick from her awakened desire. Katlyn's touch pulled me into the present. Her tongue played in my mouth, teasing me, enchanting me, melding past and present with her provocative touch.



I opened my eyes, daring myself to acknowledge this new level by locking into her gaze. I could see now, so clearly, the compassion she'd always promised, the hunger in her soul to end the days of pain and torment. Arms strong and sure pulled me in, awkward in the cold and snow, encumbered by clothing I wished would vanish by will.



My body tingled and desire pounded. I strained against her, pushing into and wrapping myself in her arms. Katlyn's lips locked with mine, she played my body like an instrument. Through heavy layers of clothing my skin burned where her gloved hand swept. I tried to pull away, to speak. Katlyn held me fast, refusing to relinquish contact, holding my head firmly against her kiss. Her teeth bit playfully, my lips no longer cold, but warm, wet and swollen, as was I.



Slowly, Katlyn released my lips from her kiss, though her arms held me tight. The corner of her mouth curled into a devilish grin, lips the colour of orchids. Her face flushed from the passion of our kiss. The cold of night nipped at my burning cheeks, drying my tears, but inside I blazed for want of her touch. Our heavy breath frosted in the chilly November air, particles condensing and infusing together to become one, before dissipating on the breeze.



Katlyn removed her glove and wiped the tears from my face before gently stroking my cheek and placing a gentle kiss on my forehead. I pulled her hand to my lips and softly kissed the tips of her chilling fingers then brought them to rest against my breast. Could she feel the rapid beat of my heart thorough the layered clothing. Could she not. My skin burned and I ached for her to be inside me. Staring openly into Katlyn's eyes, I invited her touch, and leaned toward her waiting lips. Katlyn settled her body into me, and I heard a soft moan escape her lips.



My senses reeled and I cursed the cold of winter.



“Let's go back,” I murmured under my breath.



Katlyn's hands continue to tease me, lips enticingly close to mine. Her hand trailed my body to cup my cheek and she looked at me. Then, taking a deep breath, replied with gentle kindness, “First. You. Talk.”



Silence hung between us. Energy danced as Leonids darted earthward. The world came into focus. For the second time that night, I felt my jaw slacken. My body shook from absolute need, our contact an opiate.



“Need to hear it, Sweet Light. It's not a weapon. Just need to hear it,” Katlyn's voice hushed through the stillness. “I'm sorry-“



I interrupted her with a soft, “shhhh. I know, Katie, I know, but I'm the one who needs to apologize. This,” I said nodding at my leg, “isn't your fault. I just wanted to punish someone and I took everything out on you.



“I was playing with you on that trip, wanting to see just how much power I could wield. How crazy I could make you. Wanting you was never in doubt. God! If you only knew. There was no doubt, I'd wanted, have wanted you for a long time. But you didn't live in my world and I didn't live in yours. You were on your way up and I was on my way out, so I wanted to play you. To see how serious you really were. Guess I got my answer.” I laughed softly.



“I didn't mean,” Katlyn said and a shadow passed over her face, darkening her features.



“Shhh, I know that, I just chose not to believe it...”



She nodded, a wan smile playing at the corners of her lips, waiting for me to continue.



“After the fight we'd promised each other space. Since you wouldn't speak or look at me, I went down to sit by the lake by myself after breakfast, to let you cool off a little and to try to figure out exactly why, when I wanted you so close, I kept pushing you away. I sat by the water's edge, wracking my brain tying to figure out some way to apologize to you. Would have come back sooner, but I spent the whole time crying. After finally pulling myself together I got back to the site, you were gone.



“As morning passed, I thought little of your absence. Sorry, I thought you were off licking your wounds. I knew I was mean, my rejection was callous and a lie. I don't think you'll realize just how hard it was to not make love to you when we were at the waterfall. The water was so cold, and it just ... Well, at any rate, you just seemed so, oh I don't know, available. I didn't see the challenge.”



“Ari, you little bitch.” Katlyn give my arm an almost playful punch.



“Ouch, hey, that hurt,” I said rubbing my arm, but knew I wasn't going to get off that easy.



“As well it should. No challenge? I told you I wasn't going to be a notch on your bedpost and meant it. I wanted more from you, and certainly expected better. There was enough heat between us to melt glaciers. And I wasn't the only, what was the term you used, oh ya, 'crazed, love starved pup who wasn't worth the time it would take to train.*'*”



My turn to cringe; “Ya, good god Katie. I was so turned on. I just wanted-”



“To be the seducer, not the seduced,” she finished for me. I hadn’t realized when she’d grasped my hands, but a gentle reassuring squeeze gave me the courage I need to continue.



I nodded and smiled impishly at her. “We played a delicious game of cat and mouse, didn't we? Though I was never quite certain who was cat and who was the mouse. I just took the game a step too far. Didn't realize how angry you were until I saw what you'd taken with you. I ransacked the tent and discovered you'd taken the majority of our supplies. At that point, it didn't seem to matter. I didn't think you'd go that far. Apology was forgotten, I was furious and wanted a piece of your ass, so I hastily grabbed my daypack and set off with that in mind. I had no idea the piece of ass to be forfeit would be my own.”



Katlyn stared to speak and tears formed in her wolf like eyes.



I stilled her with a tender kiss, “You should hear it all,” I said quietly. She looked at me and nodded. I don't know if she couldn't, or didn't want to, speak.



“I tried to follow you. Counting on the fact that you'd be walking I started running, taking short cuts through the bush to make up ground. I was mad, not focused on what I was doing, you know, like taking a map with me. I didn't expect you'd go more than a couple of miles. It was raining and I stumbled,” I took a deep breath and looked sheepishly at her, “I hadn't balanced or tightened my pack properly and fell hard, skewered my leg on a downed tree branch, and smashed the compass in the process.



“Tore the shit out of my leg and clothes, but the compass in my pocket took the worst of it; probably prevented me from impaling my leg completely, but it was bad. I decided to limp back to our campsite and wait for you to come back for me. I'd been running hard for hours. It was nearly dark when I realized I was lost. Survival 101 kicked in and I scrounged around to make some shelter, but the heavy rains had soaked everything, couldn't keep the fire going. For the first few days I was okay, wet, tired and a little hungry, but I was okay. When you didn't come back right away, I got scared, and I got stupid,” my voice trailed off.



Her hand caressed the ugly scarred patches on my thigh through my clothing. I had forced her to take responsibility when it was not her burden to bear, at least not entirely. She deserved to hear the whole story.



I gently took her hand and held it as I continued the story.



“With no first-aid kit to clean the wound, it became infected.”



Katlyn blanched visibly in the dark night.



“Ari, you had a first aid kit in your day pack.”



“Well, um it started off that way. Dumped half the bottle of alcohol on my leg and the other half on the ground. I put a pressure dressing on the wound, but used every other combustible thing in the kit trying to keep the signal fire going. I didn't think I'd be out there so long.”



“Shit.” I read a flood of memory on Katlyn's face.



“Another day or two passed and I started running out of food, couldn't move around very well anymore. Afraid to sleep for fear I'd miss you – that the branches and leaves protecting me would meld into the forest and I'd be lost, I'd die, I became paranoid, slept sporadically maybe awake for the better part of three possibly four days. When you didn't come back for me, I simply sat out and watched the woods until I passed out. The weather broke and the freeze hit. A snow and ice storm. They told me it was from fever, hypothermia, but I was just being stubborn. The frostbite on my leg is from my own folly. It was just convenient to blame you. I think there was a part of me that wanted to stay in the woods. Another day, or even a few more hours…” my voice trailed off and I stared down at the hand still holding my own.



She looked at me; ever attentive to the words I did not speak. She knew what was there. I continued with the truth, as I knew it, “If I hadn't been playing butch, this wouldn't have happened. If it helps any, I haven't let anyone touch me since then. Not stone, just stone cold.”





~~~



These last words I spoke in a whispered hush. My words hung in the air between us. I couldn’t look at her. I was aware only of the pounding in my ears, and the empty dizzying feeling in the pit of my stomach. Of voices of the past laughing at me, mocking my weakness. The wild passion I’d felt only moments ago freezing in the depths of my cold soul.



“Please don’t hate me, Katie. You’ve a right to, I know – gods I know, but please don’t hate me for what I did, what I’ve done to you...” My body tensed, as I awaited her judgement on my confession.



Katlyn said nothing. I felt a moment of perfect stillness. No wind bit at our exposed skin, no cold chilled our bones. Was the world ever this still, this perfect. Was pain ever this all encompassing. I became aware of her warm breath against my cheek, felt hands at my waist, soft lips brushing against my cheek, a strand of long dark hair tickling the bridge of my nose.



I waited, body tense for the answer I knew would come. Rejection. What I had known, what I would always know when people learned the truth. Inside I felt weak and small, the fool with no court. A foil with no hero. I wanted her to say something, anything. I bit my lip to force the tears away, wanting to replace one pain for another, looking back at my life with nothing but regret. Why didn’t she say something, anything to break the silence? The lake was frozen, but I heard the thundering crash of waves, felt its violent fury trapped beneath the fragile first ice of winter, the sound pounding in my ears.



“For what I am,” I muttered, more to myself than for Katlyn. I couldn’t meet her eyes. Inside I felt everything disappear, the awakening feelings of life Katlyn had sparked in me were slowly extinguished by the darkness seeping back into my soul. Within, I cried tears of bitterness and regret, and fought to smother that which sought light. Nothing had changed. Nothing would ever change.



Katlyn’s hands grabbed my shoulder. I heard a barely contained fury in her voice, “Don’t dare do this to me, Arianna. You hear me! Don’t fucking shut down on me!”



My head snapped up. Katlyn caught my chin in her hands, eyes like fire burned into me. I had no chance to reply before her lips pressed against me with that same intensity. The passion of her kiss started me. Mind reeling, I pulled away to speak, but felt her tongue entwine with mine, demanding response where words would not suffice. Katlyn held me fast, possessing me and emptiness filled with desire. I tried to pull her closer, to melt into her body, but she pinned my arms against my side, overpowering me with her strength. The thrill of losing control to her filled me. Heat rose in my cheeks, I tried to breath but couldn’t find air. Sounds filled the air around us, the wind howling in recognition of the storm washing over me. I felt the swirling stab of desire digging at me. In her face I saw an image of our shared past. Desire smouldering beneath the surface, and in her eyes a determination to release the sins of the past



“I want you Arianna. I mean to have you!” Katlyn said with ragged breath, creating a swirling current of opaque air between us.



Her words suffused me, pushing boundaries, tearing at my carefully crafted farce. I tried to connect with the feelings inside me, hold them fixed to my soul. And for one fleeting moment I felt it, the connection I craved, then it stole away, a thief in the night. Darkness came and pushed at me with it’s ever present warning. I struggled to block images and shadows and embrace the rapturous want Katlyn’s presence instilled in me, awakening sensations from an age long slumber. Against my will, my body tightened, fighting to retreat away from Katlyn’s promise. Her words coursed through me and as their weighty implication settled in, I closed my eyes and downcast my head, staring at my heavy boots settling in the snow beside us.



Sensing the change, Katlyn’s arms slipped around and held me. I buried my face in her neck, my cold cheeks making her jump, then settled in and took simple comfort in the touch she offered. I listened to the sound of her breathing and heard her heart pounding, matching the cadence of my own. Katlyn shivered against me, from cold or perhaps my lips nuzzling against the pulse point just under her firm jaw. Emboldened by her response, I dragged my teeth across her neck and was rewarded with a hitched sigh, and couldn’t suppress the smile that crept around the corners of my lips as they blazed a trail along her skin.



The wind had picked up, snow swirling in crazy patterns around us. Snowflakes wisped and landed against our faces, melting into little rivulets against the heat from our skin. Through layers of clothing, our bodies pressed together, touching as the awkwardness of the snowmobile encumbered but permitted. My hand slid up Katlyn’s side, thumb catching the underside of her breast, making small circles, gentle first then more demanding. When she gasped at my touch I seized the opportunity and my gloved palm completed its quest, capturing her breast with slow teasing strokes, murmuring under my breath, “Was it ever thus.”



Katlyn shifted her weight against my hand and took my lips once more with her own, a sweet tongue gently probing, wrapping itself around mine, slow gentle strokes coaxing me to a higher state of arousal. I ceased to be aware of anything beyond the feel of her kiss, which I returned with reverence.



In the distance, I heard a howling, one that out matched the pounding of my heart and throb of desire quickening inside me. Feeling a sting against my cheek, like I slap, I broke away, “What the…” I exclaimed.



Ice crystals pelted us. My eyes, accustomed to night, searched our surroundings. My efforts rewarded with rain like stinging nettles against my bare flesh. The storm had returned with a vengeance. Looking out where the lake should be I saw only sheet upon sheet of freezing rain driving toward shore. Treetops swayed crazily in the face of nature’s onslaught. A deep dread gutted my being and I cried aloud, “OH GOD! Not again.”



TBC

You know I've heard about people like me. But I never made the connection. They walk one road to set them free, And find they've gone the wrong direction. But there's no need for turning back 'cause all roads lead to where I stand. And I believe I'll walk them all No matter what I may have planned

[sam darls]

Wow..that was so amazing , and I'm glad they are on the path of talking. Oh, and thank you poppy!! Love sammi xx

"Sometimes things happen between people that you don't really expect. And sometimes the things that are important are the ones that seem the weirdest or the most wrong. And those are the ones that change your life." - Jessie Sammler (Evan Rachel Wood)

[justin]

That was a great update



It was good to get an understanding of what happened to Ari and it's good that they're talking about it.



Though the end was a little worrying



Looking forward to more

There's more than one way to do it. - The Perl mantra

[FlyingPoppy]

Patches, you know what? I'm glad to be of service...um, I mean help, if it means you writing more like this.



You already know how much I love your writing. The opening paragraph brings across a real sense of panic. Good stuff

Quote:

---

I can't thank you all enough for supporting me while I write. Always a challenge, but in the last while, never more so.

---

And the amazing thing is you manage to write like it's not so challenging. The boot's stiil here, in position, just awaitin' the chance to spring into action!



Hey! What are you doing reading this anyway? You should be writing! Get to it!!

For yesterday is but a dream, and tomorrow is only a vision; but today well lived makes every yesterday a dream of happiness, and every tomorrow a vision of hope.
It's never too late to be who you might have been.

[Patches]

Hello lovely and patient Kittens. I'm sorry this has taken so long to update. Weddings, work and life have made things a bit challenging for me. However, I have done a smidge more writing, with more still rattling around in my head - I have one stubborn Muse kicking my ass (thanks Poppy ) to get back to it. I've also done some editing, and I think when things wind down, I'm going to post the edited story, in its entirety. Though look for that around November/December.



Right now, for disclaimers etc., please see previous posts. And SQ, somewhere in my head, I have 10,000 thank yous for your feedback - much appreciated and always welcomed.



So, without further ado, here good readers is a short, but hopefully satisfying Chapter 9.





“Jesus fucking Christ! Ari, hold on!” Katlyn’s words burned through the fog of memory and haze of desire. Driving wind pelted us, coating the snowmobile with ice. “God, your helmet, where the fuck is your helmet?”



The thick clouds turned the world to darkness. My eyes had no time to adjust, my senses unable to process the speed at which the storm enveloped us. We moved in slow motion, or that’s how it seemed. “Damn it.” I heard Katlyn cry out; echoing my own whimpers and curses as freezing rain burned my skin with cold. I could barely make out the shadow of the woman in front of me – dark was the sky, obsidian cloud spewing shards of ice, like glass crystals raining down on us.



“My helmet,” I stammered, “It’s just a few feet away.”



I moved to retrieve my head gear when a vice grip grabbed my arm. Powerful hands held me fast. “Don’t move away from here,” Katlyn hollered over the wind. “A few steps and I’ll never find you.”



I bit back a retort. It was going to take more than a few kisses to erase my gut reaction, but prudence was a strong, and at this point, much stronger than my tongue.



Katlyn was twisting on the seat in front of me, cursing wildly, “C’mon you fucker, start.”



“Katlyn,” my voice was tight.



“Start, you worthless piece of shit – Fucking START.” She held the ignition key while the machine whined and ground in protest, headlamp alternating bright and dim, further blinding us as light turned to absolute black.



“KATLYN,” my voice was sharp, “You’re gonna short it.”



“Fucker, start. Damn it.” The normal cool of her voice held an edge of panic.



“Katlyn, for fuck sakes, let me do it. Stop or you’ll fry the ignition.”



I reached around her and pulled her shaking hand gently away from the key. Taking a deep breath I eased the ignition, saying a silent prayer to whatever was listening. The motor whirled and cranked, sputtered then caught.



“She just needs a gentle touch.” But my words and their meaning were lost in the howling wind. Burying my face against her back, Katlyn eased the machine into gear and we headed away from the open beach.



The canopy of trees sheltered us from the worst of it, but ice coated branches heavy like giant arms slapped at us as we made our way back to the cabin. Perhaps jealous at our prospect of shelter, they sought to keep us with them in the elements.



Getting back to the cabin was, to put it mildly, an adventure in itself. Icy rain made the trail slick. The only thing louder than the wind and snowmobile was the pounding of Katlyn’s heart, beating wildly. Muscle corded against my cheek while she fought to control the sled over the icy tracks; using her strength and weight she manoeuvred the machine along the treacherous path. Through the layered clothing, I heard her curses and felt while we swung wildly around corners, ass end kicking through the brush. Closing my eyes, I repeated, ‘We’re gonna be fine,’ alternated with, ‘This just can’t fucking be happening again.’



“Ari.”



“ARI”



I felt myself being hurled from the machine, my arms wrenched from the safety of Katlyn’s body. Squeezing my eyes against the impending pain, my senses were shocked by a distinct lack of motion, and an equally distinct lack of pain. My body settled softly into the deep snow, and ice crystal chaffed my cheeks. In an instant, my mind snapped back to reality and I realized there was something uniquely different about this whole situation. Before I opened my eyes, I felt strong hands gripping my wrist, and a voice uttering words, what were they?



“reathing is mandatory.”



“Eh?”



“Ari, c’mon let’s get inside.”



Was it really only this morning this adventure began? If my past hadn’t flashed before my eyes, looking up at Katlyn and our present, I was certain it was about to.



“That was me, you great nit! You were holding so tight I couldn’t breath. Lucky I didn’t pass out,” she said unconsciously holding her right side with her left hand, while she pulled me out of the snow. “But I am sorry about trouncing you in the snow like this. You just wouldn’t let go. Not the greatest sense of balance trying to climb both of us off this contraption. Now, inside by the fire.”



Katlyn held my hand as we walked in silence toward the cabin, boots crushing through the light layer of ice covering the snow at our feet. Low beams tripped and lit our path as we moved toward the heavy door, and I recalled the solar lamps on poles sitting high above the ground, waiting to greet the things that went bump in the night. Giving my head a shake I felt frozen chunks of hair slap at my cheeks, and without thinking I turned toward Katlyn, tucked my leg deftly between hers, threw my weight forward into her and hissed into her ear, “Got’cha!” She went tumbling backward, pulling me into the snow with her. I landed half on my side and half on top of Katlyn, laughing delightedly at my triumph. So many things washed over me, our shared past, my past, and the insanity of our present. I was breathing hard, though not from stress or adrenaline. My body needed her promise; I needed her promise. A promise different from any I’d ever given, or accepted. There was no way to tell if the shaking was from icy cold wind blowing across my soaking wet back, or fear from the determined look in my friend’s face.



Somewhere I knew we needed to be inside, needed to be warmed by the fires of wood, needed to be warmed by the reality of our present.





TBC



Peace!!

Patches

Our wedding vows: Life Love Everlasting, Always Intertwining. - Sunday June 27, 2004 :)

[StrangeQuark]

Whew! You packed a lot of excitement into this chapter.



Very riveting because you’ve established the jeopardy that they're in with references to the past, so we- the readers, have a tangible sense of the peril that they're in. A lot of times the jeopardy of characters seems contrived since you know that they're going to find a way to escape, but the way that you presented this, I was worrying the whole time due to your use of urgent language and the way that you established the scene through dialogue. Well done.



One part made me groan a little- starting the engine. Not the fact that it wouldn't start despite numerous, frantic attempts, but the fact that the solution to getting it started seemed a little weak. It's a great metaphor- the gentle touch, but maybe there's a more realistic way to demonstrate that, one that involves some kind of applied knowledge or more intricate interaction with the machine. Maybe have Ari open the throttle and hold it open for a few moments before easing the ignition... If the motor were flooded (too much gas,) then opening the throttle would allow some of it to evaporate. Ari could open it up, force Katlyn to wait for agonizing moments, and then crank the engine, coaxing it into a gradual, sputtering start. It's one of those things that makes sense in a realistic way, and serves the purpose of the metaphor as well. That's where a little bit of research can lend plausibility to an otherwise miraculous moment... you get to have the convenient cooperation of the machine, and never positively say whether it was prayer, finesse, coincidence, or skill that solved the dilemma. Just a thought.



You’ve got some vivid description going on here. It’s vivid because you place a lot of sensory information into the narrative and pepper it with colorful words. I could feel the little pellets of ice gouging my cheeks. I could see the dark clouds, just barley able to notice them in the blinding tumult. I felt the dangling pieces of iced-over hair against my face. I was there. You’ve done a great job, since ‘there’ is where you want your readers to be.



There’s a good balance being played-out here. This is an action scene, tense, fast moving, and urgent. You didn’t dilute that for a moment, choosing instead to get the characters out of danger before returning to the underlying romance. That was the best-possible choice. I’m looking forward to more. Great job.



-SQ

[sam darls]

That was so great. Love sam xx

"Sometimes things happen between people that you don't really expect. And sometimes the things that are important are the ones that seem the weirdest or the most wrong. And those are the ones that change your life." - Jessie Sammler (Evan Rachel Wood)

[lea jane]

this is my first post ever i love it please keep going

[pacou]

Gosh, Patches, I so adore this story!



I'm so looking forward to November/December... hopefully November



This story is so interesting, you never know what happens next... you just sit and read and... and and or and or



I hope you get what I mean



Thanks for writing, I have not posted here before, but I've expectantly read it all the way!



-Viv-



----

Edited cos I forgot the word "know"... I'm getting old...

"Love is an irresistable desire to be irresistably desired."
Robert Frost

Edited by: pacou  at: 9/1/04 8:23 am

[little miss 666]

*eyes widen and Bell glares*



No fricken way! You can't do that to me! You cannot after an update like THAT say i've gotta wait until November for more...it's only September now! That's like *tries 2 count on fingers in panic* thats...well...that's too long!!! I can't deal with this! Gaaaaaahhh!!!



*trudges away in a huff*



......



*desperately runs back*



NO! It's okay...i'm cool....just please...please update soon yea?



it's seriously vital to my sanity... ...no really...it is...



- Bellie

Forgive me love For loving you, Forgive my heart For needing you, Forgive my mind For wanting you … So much … Forgive me Love

[Patches]

Hey’lo wonderful Kittens! Okay, I owe some replies to feedback. To whet your appetite, chapter 10 is back from beta (aka the particularly and wonderfully picky Poppy – who shall slay me for that terrible alliteration ) and has a few more solid hours of revision awaiting my attention; projected posting date – early to mid-week.



Btw, to clear up some confusion right off the bat … while I haven’t finished the entire story, I did do some revision to what was already posted up to, but excluding, this last chapter. I’m hoping that by November or December, I’ll have the complete story, edited and fully revised, available. The remarkable thing about this format is the ability to have ongoing feedback to a work in progress. The drawback is, well, as a work in progress one tends to cringe a little in places that some things kinda slip under the radar; things such as, my penchant for repetitive pronouns and wordy phrasing, which I hope to correct as I go.



SQ – Many thanks for your critical analysis and encouraging words. I’d hoped this chapter had ‘punch,’ and it was intended to keep the reader a little off balance. I did toy with the idea of prolonging the ‘escape’ from the elements, but given Ari’s past, a second harrowing escape seemed a little contrived. I also needed to tie in the severity of the storm. The snowfall the characters faced on the way in, from a credibility perspective, was not severe enough to close roads and disrupt communication. The ice storm serves this purpose nicely, while tying distant and recent past to the present. Ice storms in mountain regions in November are common occurrences. Also, I like the opposition of ‘fire and ice’ in the physical and metaphoric sense, and it made sense to create a dynamic tension between the characters using the storm as setting, but not active participant in the story.



I rather blushed a new shade of red that I was caught out about the snowmobile ‘trouble.’ I knew when writing it was a weak spot. No, I didn’t properly do my homework on snowmobile operations. Your description is exactly what I’d *hoped* to relay with this scene. Although I found a remarkable amount of information on the various types of sleds available on the market, there was little information posted on actual physical operation. In the final draft, I will *properly* research and revise this segment. The ‘physical’ description of the ice pellets hitting skin is actually from experience. Last winter I got stuck in a freezing rainstorm and had to pull over the side of the highway to clear ice dams from my wipers and windshield. The wind was blowing fiercely and I was shocked at how much those little suckers hurt when they hit my face. My goal was to find a way to describe the sensation and feed the reader’s sensory imagination. So, while not the most pleasant of occurrences for any one to experience, I’m pleased that I could capture that sensory information and relay it in a meaningful way. To know I was able to pull you into the story gives me immense satisfaction; it means I’m doing my job. I shall endeavour to continue along this path.



Sammi Many thanks for staying with this story. I’m glad you’re along for the ride and enjoying it.



lea jane Welcome to the KB!! First post? I am honoured and fairly ticked pink. No worries, I’ll keep writing and posting as time allows. Thank you for the vote of confidence, knowing that people like what I’m writing is a powerful motivator to keep going. If I had my druthers, I’d give up my ‘job’ and do nothing but write. Unfortunately, there’s this whole bill paying and income thing getting in the way. One day though …



viv Ohh, lookie that, a ‘bouncy bouncy’ – warms the heart to see Yes, I completely understand what you are saying. Don’t worry, there’s more and :humm and or and or on the way. Thanks for letting me know you’re reading and enjoying this story. Oh, btw, you wouldn’t like to qualify *exactly* what you mean by “getting old” Then again, maybe I *don’t* to know (just kidding )



Bellie Hopefully, having read the intro to this feedback, you now know my posting schedule will be a little more to your liking (and sanity). I’m sorry, sorry, sorry, that I gave the impression I’d make everyone wait *another* two months for an update!! Please stick around, there’s more goodness, angst, emotional turmoil and a few surprises left.



And now the seriously delinquent Patches hangs her head in shame and begs the forgiveness of the kind Kittens who were so generous with feedback in previous chapters that she hasn’t responded to yet – eeps!!!. Somewhere between weddings and work, I missed a whole pile of responses (decent enough excuse, but excuse nevertheless – and not to be repeated!).



Wolfwynd Thank you for tuning in. I enjoy a story with a few twists, turns and unexpected happenings, so I guess the axiom, “write what you like to read,” applies. Capturing the reader’s imagination and interest is so important. I hope you’ve popped back in to catch up on the latest. And I do apologize for my tardy reply.



Justin Do I owe you a page and a bit … (would you take a down payment, by chance?). To Chapters 6 and 7 – I like playing with setting; it’s an effective tool for establishing mood in a story. Until recently, I wasn’t too keen on heavy descriptive writing. I’ve since discovered a fondness for trying to paint the scenery into the dialogue, as a subtext to the plot, characterization and dialogue. As you’ll discover, in subsequent chapters, there is a deliberate motivation behind Katlyn’s choice of setting. I hope this augments, and not detracts from the story line. Along the way, you’ve picked up on some key elements (no pun intended), which I hope I’ve woven adequately into the plot. As I wrote to SQ, the opposition of fire and ice plays in a physical and metaphoric manner in this story (at least I’m hoping it does, if I’m writing it properly). The ‘thaw’ between the characters occurs first in the cold November air, then the initial ‘chill’ and rising conflict in the cabin in front of the fire are the best example I can think of at this point. I try to utilize literary devices without being too heavy handed about it. In this story, the ‘hot’ and ‘cold’ of the relationship between the characters is set against a storm. Not an uncommon theme I suppose, but one I loved in Shakespeare’s works (not that I’m saying my writing is anywhere near that of the Bard, just that I really like the Tragedies and the way he used weather, at times as almost an additional character, to augment his stories or theme. If by chance you’ve found you way back here, I’m sorry it’s taken so long to reply to your feedback. I got a little wrapped up in writing, which while getting posts on the board is important, isn’t something that should come at the expense of the readers. Thank you for all your kind words an encouragement.



Poppy Much to say, and many thanks owed. Thank you for keeping this story (and me) on track through some rather crazy weeks/months. Your input, analysis, and editor’s pencil are helping turn this into something readable. You rock Dude! Abso-fucking-lutely rock. I’m glad you like my writing, makes me think that some things I though impossible perhaps aren’t so out of reach after all. Ta, muchly.



Lurkers I give many thanks to you!! Posting an update and seeing the page views rise really does give me such a thrill. I hope you’re all enjoying the ride. If you should find a voice to pop in and say ‘hello’ at some point, that’d be gravy on top of a most wonderful writing experience.



Thanks all – I appreciate your kind words, encouragement and corrections



Peace!!

Patches

Our wedding vows: Life Love Everlasting, Always Intertwining. - Sunday June 27, 2004 :)

[Patches]

Hey Kittens, well lookie me. I actually got this chapter ready *and* posted on time. Chapter 11 will follow in about two weeks. In addition to work, my 'spice' (I'll explain: if the plural of mouse is 'mice,' and the plural of louse is 'lice' - hey, I didn't make it up - then the plural of spouse must be ... yes, you guessed it, Spice!) has gone back to school full time, and I'm taking a writing class, so writing time is at a real premium. However, I am determined to finish this story and get a polished draft to take with me when I start my Novel Writing couse in January (I'm currently taking a required Non-Fiction -ycch - course now). I'm hoping (fingers crossed) that I'll have a published novel and Professional Writing Certificate in my hot little hands by July 2005!



Your criticism and feedback is really helpful and muchly, muchly, muchly appreciated!!!! Thanks all, for reading.



Peace!!

Patches





~~~~Ch 10~~~



Without the urban sixty-cycle hum - the ubiquitous single note generated by alternating electrical current cycling sixty times per second - my senses sharpened to the sound of nature: The drumming of my heart. Escalating ‘plink plink’ and ‘splat’ of ice crystals hitting objects around us. Heavily laden tree branches swished, shaking angrily in the keening wind. The storm that closed the pass had captured us. Like static on the phone line, the air hissed and crackled. Majestic pines groaned at the savagery of nature’s onslaught, branches creaking in protest. The air smelled of ozone and where once the Perseids lit the sky, sheets of lightning illuminated the blackened clouds, electricity flowing in colours of pink and purple: coral and indigo. If not for the vehemence of the onslaught, I would have been content to lie in our bed of snow and drink in nature’s dazzling, but terrifying fury. Everything about this storm suited us: beautiful, wild, and dangerous. “Nice one,” Katlyn yelled in my ear. “Now get off me and let’s get inside.” Thunder crashed in concert with light, causing us both to jump. I didn’t need to be told twice.



I stood and then stumbled across the ice-crusted field in front of the cabin, landing my already soaking wet butt unceremoniously in the snow. For a moment, any attempt to right myself resulted in contortions worthy of a circus performer. Where the ground promised stability, that promise was ripped away as arms and legs broke through the fragile layer of ice, sending my limbs deep into the soft snow beneath. “Oh for crissakes!” I cursed, “I fucking HATE snow.” My leg throbbed in pain, the adrenaline rush wearing off. Using the pain to sharpen my focus I looked around to get my bearings. Which direction had I fallen and where the hell was the cabin? How in God’s name could I get lost thirty feet from the front door, and less than ten seconds after I let go of Katlyn’s hand? Easy, a voice inside my head answered, you’re terrified of what’s waiting for you on the other side of that cabin door.



Again I felt strong hands touching my body. I started. Where the hell had Katlyn come from?



“Are you hurt?” Katlyn’s voice barely carried above the howling wind, her mouth scarce inches from my ear.



“Fine. Lost my balance.”



“What?”



“I’m…Oh-Khay,” I hollered back.



“C’mon, then –- ‘ets get out of this mess.”



I didn’t walk so much as be dragged by Katlyn toward the cabin. Had I not known, I would have sworn she was angry. Her arms and body steadied me as we made our way out of the elements. Speaking was impossible over the raging wind. Reaching the safety of the cabin porch, I felt my feet slip precariously on the patchy ice coating the wooden deck steps. Katlyn forcefully opened the door to the anti-chamber and hauled me inside. Holy shit, she was angry, and I had no idea at what. Motion sensors set off the light, an unholy intrusion of technology tossing Dantésque shadows against the wall of the chamber.



I really don’t know when the line gets drawn and enough is enough, but in that second I felt as close to it as I’d ever been. A cold realization slithered through my veins – I wasn’t a kid to be hauled around by the ear, but that’s just what Katlyn had done to me. What kind of insane dance had we engaged in, back and forth; it wasn’t a dance though, it was a fencing match, bout after bout, two strong-headed women rattling blades in epee du combat. God, that’s all we’d ever done: attack, parry, riposte. In fencing they call friendly combat an assault, what the hell did we call what we were doing.



“Katlyn,” I said to her back, voice tight with emotion, “I can’t take this anymore.”



She stiffened visibly; puffs of air swirled lazily toward the roof as her head tilted back slightly, shoulders slumped in defeat. Steam rose from her clothing, the chill night air stealing warmth. Her breath hitched and she said tightly, “Come inside and get changed.”



Even in the relative shelter of the porch, the cold and wet bit at my flesh, an all too unnerving and familiar feeling. Just feet from a door, the other side of which lay comfort and promise, I stood frozen by emotion, staring at the portal.



“Ari, please come inside.”



I stared through the door and saw Katlyn, still in her wet clothes, kneeling by the fireplace stoking the embers, everything in the room as we’d left it. A dim flicker of yellow, then orange, a slight flare as paper burned and red flame licked at the logs surrounding it. Gentle breath teased and coaxed the fire to life, and I thought of the lyrics, Fire and Ice: ‘I wanna give you my love, but you'll just take a little piece of my heart.’



While I stood transfixed by the tableaux before me, a gust of wind grabbed hold of the door behind me and rattled it fiercely. Demanding in its presence, the storm wanted in.



“Please Ari.”



Could I feel the body I knew to be my own shivering in the cold? It didn’t seem to belong to me, nothing belonged to me, and nothing included the pain. The cold was welcoming, equaling the numbness seeping into my extremities. There just wasn’t anything left. Nothing to fight, no reason to feel, the cold had seen to that. I stared at hands that should be mine, but weren’t. Sought emotion, something to touch that was real, but it slithered away. Opposites awaited me – to my back, darkness and cold, ahead light and warmth; both a form of torture, a slow agonizing death, the one physical, the other emotional, two extremes, one end. The thought was bittersweet, the final merging of the two selves, ending in death. I didn’t need a storm to die; I died years ago. Years before Katlyn Donovan came crashing into my reality, years before cascading lapses in judgment scarred my body.



Why here? Why now? Though somehow I knew, tonight there would be resolution.



Katlyn appeared before me, wet raven hair clung limply to a face hidden by shadow. She turned and I saw tears mix with melting ice drip onto the pile of logs beside the door, the portal to the future. Powerful shoulders shook with the force of uncontrolled sobs. If I’d known where my heart was, I’m sure it would have ripped in two at the sight.



“Please Sweet Light,” the soft voice broken by tears called, “Ari, come inside.”



The hand, the hand I saw but could not feel as my own reached out and touched her shoulder. A body moved forward and another hand reached and took the logs from her hand, placing them gently on the pile. Bodies shivered in the cold and pressed close for comfort. It was like a dream, I could see it, but felt nothing. Tears mingled with melting ice, hands twined in tangled raven coloured hair, pulling Katlyn’s face to the crook of my neck. Soothing words came as air resonated through vocal cords, “It’s ok Katie. Shh baby, it’s okay. We’re both safe.”



Katlyn’s hand grasped mine and she led me inside the cabin. Shutting the heavy door against the darkness, we stood facing one another. There was a sound, teeth chattering, a body shaking against the cold that had entered the cabin with us. Light flashed from the fireplace and tongues of flame consumed the wood. Orange and red cast a pall across the room. I stood and stared at the unopened bottle of wine and bag of marshmallows sitting beside a fire that offered no comfort. I looked at Katlyn, willing my voice to speak, but all I could do was look down and shake my head against the assault of emotion, against the assault of memory. Katlyn had followed my gaze and read the anguish in my face. I found my heart, and it was torn to shreds.



“Shit,” she exclaimed quietly, wrapping me in her loving arms.



I heard the sobs and felt the tears, and somewhere I knew they were mine, they were ours and they intermixed with the rapid sound of plink-plink-plink against the windows, as nature in Her fury begged to be welcomed.

Our wedding vows: Life Love Everlasting, Always Intertwining. - Sunday June 27, 2004 :)

Edited by: Patches at: 9/14/04 5:09 am

[Kieli]

I have to say, my initial reaction was



After I got over being all *ahem* worked up....there were some very interesting things I found, mostly imagery and how you've managed to find a theme.



It's either cold or hot, passionate or frigid, the characters are always vacillating between the extremes whether it be emotionally or physically. The never ending winter of the soul is very carefully crafted with their current wintry surroundings; the warmth inside the cabin, their deeply held passion for each other and the promise of new beginnings are the heat.



And by crikey you write a damn good love scene! I quite literally caught myself holding my breath through most of it. I didn't realize that though until I started seeing spots *sheepish grin*



I regret missing this before but I read it all in one sitting. Now I need to go pour ice down my pants. So if you'll pardon me, I'm headed off to the loo..

Time flies by when the Devil drives.
It's not the pace of life that concerns me, it's the sudden stop at the end.

[barnabasvamp]

Such emotion and torment all at once. Excellent update!



BV

It's the passion in a kiss that gives to it its sweetness; it is the affection in a kiss that sanctifies it.

[justin]

The last couple of updates have been great



Your description of the blizzard was very good, so much so that I was feeling cold



The way you described Ari's feelings, and also Katlyn's, was also very good. I'm not sure if I've said this before but you're very good at letting the reader see inside your characters heads.



It seems that they still have a lot to work through, but this experience may be a cathartic one.



As Ari says there is going to be a resolution. It just remains to be seen whether this is going to be a or a type resolution.



Looking forward to more

"VOOM"?!? Mate, this bird wouldn't "voom" if you put four million volts through it! 'E's bleedin' demised! - The Parrot Sketch

[StrangeQuark]

Favorite line:



[--What kind of insane dance had we engaged in, back and forth; it wasn’t a dance though, it was a fencing match, bout after bout, two strong-headed women rattling blades in epee du combat. God, that’s all we’d ever done: attack, parry, riposte. In fencing they call friendly combat an assault, what the hell did we call what we were doing.--]



Absolutely lyrical-- with image, motion, and emotion. Beautiful and terse-- Great prose! The punctuation within that probably breaks some rules here or there, but I don't care since it's such a joy to read.



Your descriptive voice is at full volume once more, only this time playing a more intricate and involved tune. The 60Hz stuff is a little convoluted-- some people who don't understand that it's the ever-present hum of electrical power may be a little confused by your presentation. It's a great thought and a wonderful contrast to the desolation and detachment from civilization, but it's a bit too wordy for what it really says. Starting a sentence with 'Without' is a risky behavior that you can easily avoid. It's risky because the sentence is long and complex, so much so that some reader's may forget the 'Without" at the beginning and thus have a reversed, confusing meaning left in their heads. Try to find a way to establish the 60-cycle as the norm and then illustrate the effects of its absence maybe? It's a great image and observation... I just think that there may be a better way to express it. I could be wrong, of course. I'm no pro.



The flashback, the memory scene is well done. You jump in, cover the ground, and jump right back to the present. That's the best way to do it. Writers are always tempted to --almost literally-- blur the lens and wash into and out from flashbacks as though we're watching TV, but most pros agree that the most rapid, least dramatic transitions between story-present and story-past are the least visible, and therefore, the least distracting to the readers. You've made yours really sleek in this case which gives the whole episode a really polished feel.



Excellent story. Excellent imagery. Excellent descriptions.



Now give those two women a few moments of happiness for Goddess' sake! (I'm emotionally invested-- good job!)



-SQ

Edited by: StrangeQuark at: 9/15/04 8:20 pm

[Patches]

Okay, I’d planned to have at least part of Chapter 11 ready by tomorrow. In theory, this was possible, in practice, however, not so much. I’m currently engage in somewhat of an internal battle with this scene. For perhaps the first time ever, I have a load of notes happening on paper in my journal. As a rule, I don’t outline (and perhaps that shows …) but usually I just scribble down a couple of ideas and see where my mind goes from there.



So, my waffle is a choice between the good ‘ole fashioned homemade from scratch kind or a pop in the toaster Eggo variety. What I’ve outlined is an intense emotional scene – guys, I *do* mean intense. I’m not (as you can likely tell) averse to dragging up emotions and poking at them with a sharp stick. I just kinda shocked myself with what came pouring out of my head. *I* found it disturbing. Your garden variety Eggo waffle is a shortened version, where certain events are alluded to, but not given much detail.



I put to you (ooh, the reader gets a choice), you guys up for a potential emotional meat grinder scene, or would you rather see the nice pretty package and forget about the process? Regardless, this next chapter is going to have a strong content warning, dealing with issues some might find upsetting. I know it’s not the role of the writer to shy away from disturbing issues; there are times however, when even I put the breaks on and think, ‘is this going to seriously’ impact/upset people. Sometimes, I think, damn right – it’s there, it’s part of my story, it’s been in the background all along, and now it’s time to bring it to voice. What do you think, enquiring writers want to know!!!!! (well at least this one does … are you up for a trip (if I can pull it off) into emotional hell or what?)



In the mean time, while you ponder this … It’s response time …



Kieli … cooled off at all yet??? Thanks for joining this out of control emotional train wreck of a story. Ya, I guess somewhere I did manage to find a theme – and part of it was even intentional. Btw, can I borrow that line about the never ending winter of the soul? It really sums up this chapter (in way less words than I could ever produce) and the story in general, and will make a hell of an impact statement in my cover letter and précis to an editor when this story is finally completed and edited. Can I tell you just how much I hate précis writing … Please sum up your life, and your story in one cover letter, and a two page précis of your work … oh and don’t forget the character sketch … WTF’s with *that* - lol Thanks for the encouragement and btw, things do (ahem) warm up again soon, so you might wanna start practicing some breathing exercises (-:



BV – Thanks. Muchly (will someone please invent more than one or two words to express gratitude in English … this ‘thank you’ thing of ours feels wholly inadequate). As you see from the note above – I’m certainly leaning toward turning the old emotional crank a few notches higher.



Justin – the mono-linguist here, is again running out the Tank You mat! While back, SQ commented that detail was a little thin, so with an eye to bringing the reader more into the story the setting became more important. In some ways, that storm is almost an NPC (non-player character, for those who haven’t done RGP before); it exists within the story, but not as part of it. With characterization, writing first person is easy – you get to play around in the character’s head. What I often found ‘lacking’ if I may be so bold, in FP narrative is a glimpse into the non-narrative characters. I set about to try to convey to you Katlyn’s feeling and emotions, within the restriction of first person narrative. I am quite certainly tickled pink that it’s working. I want you to know what Katlyn’s feeling without having to make Ari tell all. And yes, there’s a lot to go through. I’m certain you’ve figured out that there are no easy answers for these two women. That you haven’t yet predicted the outcome (and I am not tipping my hand either way) to this point gives me a strong sense that I have accomplished part of what I set out to do with this story. I want to engage the reader, and make the story a reasonable, emotional, and satisfying read.



SQ – My grammar instructor told us in our second to last class (don’t worry, I’m planning on continuing my work with grammar – things are still rougher than I’d like them to be), “break the rules when it is right to do so.” I believe the fencing analogy was such an occasion. I admit (quite happily) you certainly have a knack for picking up on the areas I struggle with. The 60-cycle hum was a whole lot worse *before* it went to beta. I’ll take your advice to heart and build around it a little more. I just couldn’t think of an easy way to describe the silence. Not a lot of people know what the 60-cycle hum is, and without that knowledge, the scene loses part of it’s impact. I’ll see what I can do in the final draft to amend and ‘less convolute’ things. And I’ve got you invested??? High praise indeed!!! Can you see the grin?? Well, maybe not … being all with the text and stuff, but it’s there.



I really admire you knowledge and understanding of the writing process. I have learned much from your comments and from your writing. You know your stuff. There is much I need to learn about the craft of writing, as of what I do is instinctual. Until recently, I’d never considered myself much of a writer – now, I’m beginning to understand the nuances of language, and am enjoying the whole process (my grade 11 and 13 English teachers really need to see that last statement!). Now, I’m not only beginning to feel like a writer, I’m actually thinking like one. Thank you so much for your thoughtful criticisms and encouragement. I don’t mind the odd ego bruise when I mess something up; it’s how I learn. Oh, not to worry - things will turn out as they should.



Finally – um … someone smack me in the head --- before I posted Chapter 10 I was most delinquent in thanking my kind Beta, Poppy for all the work she did with me on this chapter. I’d sent over what I thought was fairly clean copy --- there was more red on the first page than black when it came back. Thank you for being so thoughtful, thorough, and kind. You’ve done a lot with this story, and made me think about things in ways that will make me a better writer. We’re gonna get this story published! Lots’a work, but well worth the effort in the end.



It’ll be a bit before the first part of Chapter 11 is ready. Any thoughts on what I’d written at the top are appreciated. What’do’ya think – full throttle or pull in the reins?



Thanks everyone!!



Cheers!!

Patches

Our wedding vows: Life Love Everlasting, Always Intertwining. - Sunday June 27, 2004 :)

[FlyingPoppy]

I say no rein pulling!!! Open the throttle all the way and tell your story how you intended to tell it. Besides, I for one want to see the process, after all, isn't that what a story is?



Homemade waffles for me, then. You are grinding your own flour and have chickens and cows at your disposal, right?

For yesterday is but a dream, and tomorrow is only a vision; but today well lived makes every yesterday a dream of happiness, and every tomorrow a vision of hope.
It's never too late to be who you might have been.

[lea jane]

I would very much like the emotional package please. Love the update can't wait for the next chapter take care lea.

[StrangeQuark]

Patches--



You make me blush-- really. I'm glad to know that you've reached that level-- the most important level-- of understanding of the importance of the writing process and the necessity that it has in creative expression. I'm still grappling with it myself



I started on instinct too. It felt good to build an --albeit --clumsy little world with interesting little characters, but those 'good vibrations' faded after I realized that my lack of skill and knowledge were hampering my storytelling ability, and thus frustrating my facility for creative expression.



I waged a dogged campaign of how-to-write-better-article-reading, merciless self-editing (J'ever write 23,000 words, highlight them, and hit ? It's painful,) and eventually buying actual books-- written by pros-- that dissect the whole notion of storytelling in boring, exhaustive detail. Once I slogged through some books regarding fundamentals of the craft, I was liberated in a way... Understanding the mechanics of basic dramatic structure and plotting made my ideas easier to illustrate. I still have a lot of learning to do though, so please take any advice that I give with a measure of caution. YOU will always be the best-- and harshest-- critic for your own work. If something looks strange, seems too slow, too fast, or out of place, then it probably is. Not to say that recognizing any shortcomings is a guaranteed remedy (Goddess, I wish it was!) but it should be satisfying to know that the recognition illustrates artistic growth.



There's a series of books that I discovered a few months ago. They are called "The Elements of Fiction Writing." There's a book on plot, one on character and POV, one on setting, one on description, dialogue, etc. They're invaluable if you're looking to liberate your creativity and produce real fiction. I highly recommend this series. Check 'em out on Amazon or wherever. Before you write your next piece, try to get a copy of the plotting book. You can save yourself a lot of frustration by understanding the nature of and different types of plotting before you even start typing (or scribbling.)



Anyway, (sorry to turn this into a sales-pitch, they're just great books, though. I can't keep them a secret...) As for the question that you posed in the top of your post:



You will know what's right and what isn't when it comes to conclusion. Don't be afraid of powerful, frightening, or disturbing material. If it's important to your character(s) then it HAS to be important to the readers who have been following them. Plus, I'm always been a sucker for drama Drama and comedy are the two reasons that people read fiction. Without one or both of these elements, then the whole thing is for naught (IMHO, of course.)



["things will turn out as they should."] -- I loved that. You really DO think like a writer!



Great work, Patches. Really great work. You've got plenty of potential, and a keen 'eye' for description. Keep growing as a writer, and you will certainly be signing copies of your books soon.



-SQ

[little miss 666]

tired...exhausted..gah, gotta leave feedback, gotta leave feedback....





FULL THROTTLE BABY!



okay, hope that worked, gotta go collapse now.



Revive my sanity with an update



- Bellie

The shape of you

Is etched inside

My bruised and somewhat sculptured mind

[Kieli]

Quote:

---

As a rule, I don’t outline (and perhaps that shows …) but usually I just scribble down a couple of ideas and see where my mind goes from there.

---

I am guilty of this too. Most of the time, it's helpful to me...other times, well, having some sort of plan would be helpful. However, I find that I do my best work when I'm in "stream of consciousness" mode....just letting my thoughts and ideas flow onto the blank canvas.

Quote:

---

Btw, can I borrow that line about the never ending winter of the soul?

---

Sure, go for it. I just kind of made it up. It sounded appropriate but I never expected it to make an impact.

Quote:

---

Can I tell you just how much I hate précis writing … Please sum up your life, and your story in one cover letter, and a two page précis of your work … oh and don’t forget the character sketch … WTF’s with *that* - lol

---

I hate doing those too, mostly because I tend to think of my characters in terms of which actor I could see in their role. It's weird and I'm sure it would get me laughed out of any publishing house. Life's too complex to stick into three sentences. I always hate when they do that to authors.



So I'm waiting patiently for your next update with oxygen tank at the ready. Don't want to lose anymore air to those brain cells

Time flies by when the Devil drives.
It's not the pace of life that concerns me, it's the sudden stop at the end.

[Patches]

Okay, the votes are in ... and the verdict is - emotional wringer time!!!



I hope to post next week. In the interest of good story telling, I'm on a fact finding mission ('cause I know if I don't do my homework, SQ's gonna tip me up faster than a cheater in a foot race! (-: )



Wish me lots of emotional angst this week. I seem to write best when I'm miserable. Course, given the research I've been doing for this next chapter; it ain't hard!



Cheers!! Kitten, thanks for the feedback.

Patches

Our wedding vows: Life Love Everlasting, Always Intertwining. - Sunday June 27, 2004 :)

[Patches]

Disclaimers ... um, the initial post here is un-beta'd. It actually *is* off to my good beta Poppy, as we speak. However, the Muse took reign these last couple days, and what follows is the result. Not trusting myself to water this to PG13, I figured I'd post now, and fix it later, or else I was going to chicken out. When I get copy back from my beta (as copy from Poppy is just wrong to write, on so many levels -lol) I will put an ETA, with corrections.



Sorry for the delay. These next couple of chapters have presented me with my biggest writing challenge. No matter how I tried to force *my* will onto the characters, the pacing was wrong. I hope I've made the right decisions in the right places ... so, it's full throttle, and um, then some.



Thanks for reading and always, always, always for your wonderful feedback (:



Peace!!

Patches



Emotional wringer ... but first things have to get wet ... and without further ado









~~~~Ch 11~~~



A cold, seeping fear gripped me. After all these years, after all these fucking years, still it haunted me, first in my dreams and now in my waking. Thoughts, voices, images from a past I swore I would leave buried. It’s not possible. It’s not fair.



A voice, softly responded, “What isn’t fair, Ari?”



“Fuck. Won’t it ever stop! They shouldn’t have done that. Not to me, and not to her! But they did, didn’t they. Because they could. Because it was fucking illegal. Because they fucking well could.”



Katlyn’s voice was warm and soothing. But her words echoed through my head, and were sucked into the emotional black hole I’d created so many years ago; a dark place where demons slept. Snap! went the demon’s tale driving jagged talons deep into my soul. Skulking out of shadow, the memory returned. No, not returned, always there, hiding beneath the surface, stepping into light in dreams and fragmented scraps of emotionless memory. Before it was cold, clinical, devoid of sensation, I dealt with thought but never emotion.



I pulled out of Katlyn’s embrace, body shivering. Unable to speak, the tears slid down my cheeks, an unstoppable flood. One innocuous bag of marshmallows and my carefully crafted world exploded in my face. Facade, beliefs – everything I thought I wasn’t, I became. Every nuance of self, destroyed by the intrusion of the waking dream. So far away did I move from my present that I was again trapped in my past. I stood lost in a zone, caught somewhere between past and present, where between denial and self-deception, lay truth.



Katlyn spoke to me but I made no sense of what she was saying. The words had no meaning, totally tuned out. I could hear her, but I was away, hurled back in time, twenty-five years in time to another cabin, another place, another woman and another winter.



Dumfounded, like a watershed everything came tumbling back at me, and I stared at the final piece of the puzzle that would unwrap my past and unravel my present. There was no walking away, no Zen-like letting go – it never leaves you. I thought of the river and the descent into madness – Mast’a Kurtz, he dead. All I could do was clench my jaw and stare at the floor. I looked around, away, trying to hold images that dissipated like steam in a dense fog. My lips moved, but there were no words, no sound, no voice. Then I grasped it. The one thing that tied me to existence. Anger.



The tears stopped more abruptly than they started. I shook my head angrily, mouth half cocked in an unbelieving smile. “Fucking doesn’t ever stop does it? The further you run, the harder it hits when it finally catches you.”



It’s funny how fast the switch in your mind is thrown, how easy to slip between the world of emotion and the blissful state of non-feeling, where nothing exists, but the present.



Katlyn pulled me close and gently kissed my forehead and wiped my tear stained face with the back of her hand. Katlyn’s wet hair fell across my cheeks as she rested her forehead against mine, and lightly brushed the tips of her fingers across my face and lips. Through shadow cast by her hair, I saw her grey eyes searching out mine. I pleaded silently for her to let it lie.



“C’mon Sweet Light, you’re chilled. Get changed.”



Capturing her hand, I gently kissed her knuckles. “Good idea.” But I didn’t move.



Whistling gusts of wind drove freezing rain pellets against the windows of the cabin, the occasional blast of air snaking down the chimney caused the fire to ignite and flare. I looked over at the ice coated window and considered all the things we punish ourselves for.



The movement was slow, imperceptible. My body shifted against hers. It was too much, too many things to hold on to. Too many things to forget. I heard the words slip from my mouth, “I want your heat.” Barely a whisper.



Closer, my shivering body demanded.



Saying nothing, Katlyn’s face blocked out the fire light and her lips brushed against mine. I surrounded myself with the wondrous scent of jasmine. For all the torment and angst we brought out in each other, when our lips met, the world went away. And I wanted nothing more than for the world to go away.



Gentle and lingering, the kiss held promise. Not wild like my pounding heart or crushing pain in my soul, simple touch, warmth building to replace one form of want with another. One form of healing for another. Entirely intimate, sensual and erotic, an act that held time at bay and existed in the moment.



Katlyn was in no hurry and fanned the flame of desire as she’d fanned and coaxed the flame in the fireplace to life. Slow and steady, measured brushes of lips against my face and neck, never stopping the touch of her lips against my skin. The sensation was delightfully erotic and my centre of gravity shifted lower with each touch against my body. I felt a tug of material, the slow ripping of velcro as she inched the cold, wet suit from my aroused skin, igniting a want that promised to obliterate the cold. Each inch of exposed skin was covered with butterfly kisses, skilful hands teased and played, fingertips sensually kneading tense shoulder and back muscles.



What she was whispering against my body was lost to the pounding rush that filled my head.



Shivers ran through me as my exposed flesh pressed against the cold of her clothing, a delicious contrast to warm hands rubbing my skin. Breathing hard, it was impossible to stifle the moan when those sensuous lips captured my nipple, hot breath on cold flesh.



“Just you relax now, Sweet Light,” Katlyn’s husky voice, murmured against me, “We’re only getting started,” trailing her tongue, circling and flicking against my half naked body that moved to welcome her. Muscles and nerves tightened in a concentric ring, pulling in the delicious sensation as her mouth moved lower.



Snap. Rip. The wet suit was loosened and peeled slowly from my body.



Becoming aware of the sudden rush between my legs, I blushed and tensed, trying to control my body’s response, fearful I would somehow ruin the garment, stupidly ruin the moment.



Katlyn, stopped and looked up at me, concern etched behind hooded eyes.



“Ari? You okay,” she asked softly, hugging my body close to hers and searching for clues in my face.



The burning heat of embarrassment flooded my cheeks and I fought to stammer out what was going through my mind. I so desperately did not want her to stop, but old habits die hard.



“I…ah, I…um .Oh God!” I groaned, feeling foolish, but unable to contain the emotion. I stared down into the wolf-like eyes, and winced with embarrassment. A hint of a bashful smile played at my lips as I looked down at her beautiful face.



“I um, your um…I mean my suit’s a little wet. Yes. That wet,” I responded to the devious look on her face. Somewhat recovering my wits, and … “I just kinda, don’t…you know, want it to get wrecked.”



“Ari, not for love nor money, you are a gem and I wouldn’t change you for the world.” A broad, wicked smile played across her face. “You are such a beautiful – dork!”



Her laugh was buried under the sound of the raspberries she blew against my stomach.



The laughter started.



“Katie! Cut that out,” I said, my body squirming.



“Na-uhn,” came the reply.



“Oh Christ!” sensations ripped through me.



“More? Okay,” as she attacked my body.



“I’m not beautiful,” I proclaimed through fits of unstoppable laughter.



“Pardon?” The attack intensified.



“Nnnnoot, beautiful.”



Mouth never leaving my body, Katlyn grabbed the material of my suit and pinned my arms against my body.



She wrenched me forward, pulling my weight against her. Off balance, I collapsed against her body and sank to my knees, in a squirming heap of laughter. I heard the sound of velcro or maybe material ripping.



“God, you’re strong,” I exclaimed through the tears of laughter.



“God, you’re stubborn,” Katlyn retorted, but didn’t let up her attack on any exposed area, breasts, neck, shoulders, wherever she could reach.



“Keeps me alive,” I said, totally breathless.



Katlyn hesitated for just a second, and in that time, the remainder of the suit was pulled from my body. I was naked, but at least I could breath.



“What does this do for you?” I was on my back, and in an instant Katlyn’s mouth was buried in my wetness.



“OH. Fuck.” Katlyn’s tongue was on me, then in me. No more breath. Sensation took over. Pure desire, as I pitched against her. No time to think. Nothing mattered but the delicious feeling from her fucking me. Katlyn’s arms and shoulders, wet material cold against my hot skin, pinned my rocking body to her.



“Katie!” I cried, “God.” The sensation pulled, gathering, running taught, swelling tight. “Harder.” Not wanting to let go, to lose the moment, I begged, “Katlyn. Own me! Fucking own me.”



I didn’t know lips from tongue, from teeth. Katlyn worked my body, pulling groans from the depth of my being, sounds I only knew in fantasy and from the lips of the women I made love to, the women I fucked.



Don’t think! Don’t think! Don’t think! My thoughts echoed, God, don’t let me think. Fighting back images, I wrapped my hands in Katlyn’s hair, concentrating only on feeling, only on the now. Lips, tongue, hands, playing me, wanting me, driving me. Thinking back years, I remembered a young mouth kissing me, demanding arousal as that same mouth now demanded climax. Hypersensitized, my body slid beyond the point of conscious thought, where physical process took dominion over emotional wreckage.



I slipped away to the place inside that detached from reality and became nothing but sensation. My body was here, but I was somewhere else. My memory was somewhere else, holding on to a ribbon of desire, a storm of passion that arose on a hot summer’s eve so many years ago. Katlyn was then – Katlyn is now. I went away and took Katlyn with me.



The sensual memory of her kiss ignited and burned through my body, and with a half groan, head pounding my body rolled, shook and released a small torrent.



And then I could breath.



Teasing half flicks of her tongue against me rocked my body and I sought to find any word at all to speak, to ease myself back into this plain. I loosened the death grip on Katlyn’s head and with a sheepish grin I looked into the eyes of the woman resting her head on my damaged thigh, softly stroking my stomach and scars.



“Hey,” I whispered running my fingers through Katlyn’s raven hair; amazed I remembered how to speak.



“Hey, Sweet Light.” Katlyn smiled up at me.



I continued to stroke her hair, but squeezed my eyes shut. My head pounded like a thousand cannons on a battlefield in a thunderstorm.



“Breath,” she prompted with a smile and easy laugh, “you have to breath.”



“Humm. Maay-be.”



We lay in the warmth. My body felt alive, tingling little currents raced across my skin, from my scalp to my toes. Katlyn’s warm breath ticked the little hair on my stomach, and her fingers gently swirled inside my thigh barely touching the skin, and my body responded, light breaths deepening as her hand inched closer and covered me, teasing but not entering.



Katlyn slid up my body, planting sensual kisses as she went. I gasped and shuddered as she paused and nipped at my breasts, dragging her nails enticingly over my skin.



“Like that, don’t you?” Katlyn said slyly.



“Umm. Who wouldn’t.”



“But you like this even more,” her lips captured mine in a long luxurious kiss.



“Naked,” I breathed into her mouth before her tongue wound deliciously around my own.



Always touching me, caressing my skin, Katlyn’s breath matched my own, hitched and deep.



Her gaze locked with mine, filled and filling me with desire. Still cold, her clothed body moved against me, inching her thigh between my legs to heighten the tease. Katlyn’s kiss was slow and sensual, fluttering lips barely contacting. Increasing the pressure, she leaned her body harder into mine, pressing her muscled weight against me.



“God, I want this, so much. I want you so much,” her hands slid down my shoulders and as she kissed me, her fingers and hand played against my breast, squeezing hard when her kisses were soft, and soft when her kisses were hard and demanding.



Our play ignited my senses, wildly erotic scent and tang of my body on her mouth and face. Feeling heat from her hands touch my exposed flesh while the cold, rough suit grated against my skin and pressed my body into the cedar plank floor under us. Voices rasping in desire to drive us hard against each other.



I pulled at the collar of her suit, no longer tolerant of the garment separating her body from mine.



“Go for it,” Katlyn breathed in my mouth, moving her hands to the floor beside my face and shifting her weight slightly to allow me to undress her. Never once did her wonderful mouth break contact.



Struggling with the snaps and ties, I finally loosened the offending garment, but not without a frustrating struggle.



“You could help me, you know,” I said pushing a little on her shoulders to allow myself a chance to speak.



“Now, how would that be fun,” she teased back. “Here, how’s this.” Shifting lower and to the side, Katlyn’s hand covered me and I bucked against her.



“OH Fuck!”



“In a bit, but not yet.”



“Feels great,” I groaned, “But. It. Doesn’t. Help.”



I loved the sound of Katlyn’s laugh echoing around the cabin. “Sweet Light, you are the most obstinate woman I have ever met.”



“Don’t want to disappoint,” I said without weighing the implications of my words while my thoughts travelled back to earlier that night, feeling just a tad bit vulnerable.



“Beautiful sweet one, we have been and said many things, walked many roads, but you have never – ever – disappointed me.”



With that her fingers slid deep inside, pulling my body close to hers. Taking total control, she demanded, “Now finish your task.”



My hands worked furiously to disentangle her body from the suit. Attention split between cognitive process, her kiss and hands making my body dance under her. Finally, I loosened the suit exposing her torso, and raked my nails down her body, touching, rubbing and listening to her gasp. Feeling hot desperate breath against me, I inched my fingers slowly lower and revelled in the sweet wet of her arousal. Shifting against her, pressing to move our bodies together we rolled without losing contact. I didn’t care how bad my wrist hurt when our weight wrenched against my arm. I would not let go and lose contact.



Lying on top of Katlyn, our legs scissored and wrapped together I had no time to think. Bending her knee to push her hand deeper and caress me, the absolute abandonment of self happened. Her lips held mine in a slow sensual kiss and we breathed as one, a luscious contrast to the hurried movement of our bodies. I tried to hold the taught wave, but Katlyn’s insistent pressure and movement pushed my body past the point of no return. Arching against her, one final thrust of her hand opened the dam to my soul. I fought to control my hand, the keep it moving, to bring Katlyn into the realm of ecstasy. Swirling my finger inside her, pressing deeper, going hard against her body, I relished my orgasm and threw myself into her pleasure, opening her until I felt her body run tight and her cries of pleasure escape into my mouth.



I didn’t know, we were both crying. So many emotions, feelings, past and present converged and we held each other tight, every inch of our flushed bodies touching.



The light from the fire dimmed and chill air seeped around our sweating, exhausted bodies. The constant plink-plink of rain against the windows continued. Outside the storm raged, but inside where it was warm, I experienced a new sensation. I felt safe.



Saying nothing, we lay together and relaxed into the present, with gentle touches and light kisses. I had to stifle a yawn. God I was tired, but unwilling to relinquish the closeness and safety Katlyn’s touch gave me.



Katlyn stared into my face and gently kissed the end of my nose, a big smile on her lips.



“Okay?” she whispered.



“Okay,” I said meeting her gaze with confidence.



Her body was shivering and the romance of the cabin turned momentarily to the practicality of a cabin. I hugged her close, kissed her lightly on the lips and said, “Next fire we stoke outta be the one over there,” I nodded my head in the direction of the dwindling flame, “And you need to get into something warm.”



Katlyn’s eyebrows shot up and she looked mischievously at me.



“…and dry,” I added with a flushed grin.



“Well, if you insist,” she added dryly as a little chill passed through her.



“Ya. I insist.”



We reluctantly disentangled ourselves and set about a few chores. While I stoked and revived the fire, Katlyn disappeared into the kitchen area and emerged with a heaping plate of food. Sliced meats, cheese, fruits, bread and crackers. Tucked under her arm were jars of jam and condiments.



The sight set my heart beating fast. She’d stripped and was standing naked, laden with food.



Whistling at the sight, “You know how to treat a woman,” I breathed, feeling a little tingle start between my legs.



Reading me, Katlyn laughed and said, “Food first. I’m starving.”



I couldn’t argue with her, but I certainly could tease. Sauntering toward her, I moved her plate carrying hand out of the way and kissed her passionately.



“Now,” I said releasing her from my kiss, “let’s see what you’ve got there.” To punctuate the point my stomach let out a rumble.



Settling in on our makeshift bed in front of a fire that threatened to burn the cabin to the ground, it was built so high; we tore into the banquet feast Katlyn prepared.



Wiping away crumbs, and clearing plates we snuggled under the heavy blankets I’d set out on the cushions in front of the blazing, crackling fire. I lay on my back, head tucked in the crook of Katlyn’s arm, her hand absently stroking my stomach, leg resting gently over mine.



I stared at the swirling patterns in the cedar roof and rafters above us.



“She turned eighteen, three weeks before I turned sixteen,” I blurted out. Not sure where to start, what to say or do.







To Be Continued.

Our wedding vows: Life Love Everlasting, Always Intertwining. - Sunday June 27, 2004 :)

[Kieli]

Oh...my...god! I can't speak....how is it that I can't move my lips? Aside from the little errors here and there (which I'm sure your beta will attend to), let's just say that now I KNOW you are an evil evil woman Whoa...need..more...ice.

Time flies by when the Devil drives.
It's not the pace of life that concerns me, it's the sudden stop at the end.