Thursday, September 26, 2013

Poem - Autumn

I love autumn so I wrote a poem about it several years ago. However, I recently tweaked a bit and thought I would share.



Autumn 
by Krystina Grant

The evening air grows crisp
The days become short
An the nights longer

Green leaves on trees
Give way to brilliant shades of color
Reds, oranges and golden yellow
Falling down like gentle snow
To cover the ground

Apples and pumpkins are everywhere
A reminder the Holidays are coming
Ghostly goblins and turkeys
Signs of Halloween and Thanksgiving

But for me, I smell the cool air
Scented with cinnmon, apples and pumpkin pie spice
 welcome the change in season
I welcome the days of Autumn . . .

September 26, 2006

Wednesday, September 25, 2013

Dynamics of a Fight - Flash Non-Fiction

This is my recollection of this event. When faced with trauma the mind's memory makes it fuzzy, as self protection to go on with life, or it did for me.

Dynamics of a Fight
by  Krystina Grant

It had been a yelling match at first. The computer room was supposed to get turned into a nursery and the computer desk was supposed to be moved into their room. But help left and she was furious that it didn’t get done. Plus the argument continued on.

“I’m calling my mom!” she said and went to the phone in the computer room.

He tried to stop her and supposedly had pinched his finger. But suddenly he was hitting her back, her shoulders . . . She was too stunned at first, but it wasn’t long before she tried fighting back, but she was facing the computer. The memory was blurry on how, but she was able to get out of the room. However the fight continued. She was no challenge for someone that had been in the military and she struggled against him as much as she could.

Eventually he had her pinned to the floor, holding her still as she cried hysterically. Finally, he let her up. Barely remembering what she said.

“Hit me again and you will never see this baby. The court is not going to give visitation to someone that would hit a woman who is six months pregnant.”

She went to the bed, laid down and cried more. But he never touch her violently again.

Monday, September 16, 2013

Flash Fiction - Is Tonight the Night?

Is It the Night?
by Krystina Grant

Bryan was thrilled to be able to hold Marissa so close as they sat on her couch watching “Sherlock Holmes.” That was something he appreciated about her. He had been willing to sit through “Letters from Juliet,” because he knew it was one of her favorite movies. But she loved action movies more than chick flicks. 

She snuggled closer to him and tenderly she kissed his cheek. He smiled and turned his body so that he could kiss her in return, but on her lips. Surprisingly, the kiss grew in intensity and his fingers wove into her hair, pulling her gently closer to him. He loved the feel of her body against his. He had wanted her so badly and now he felt as if he could finally make her completely his. His hand started roaming down her side and touching her breast.

“I want you,” he whispered in her ear.

“I want you too . . .”

“Then let’s go to your bedroom,” he replied.

“We can’t,” she said softly.

“Why not?” he said with surprise. “Are you afraid?”

“No,” she replied with a shake of her head. “I started today.”

He groaned.

(Flash fiction is a short story of 300 words or less. It also has to have some kind of twist to it)

Sunday, September 15, 2013

Poem - Blessed Life

Blessed Life
by Krystina Grant

September 15, 2013

I wake up and smile,
Like I have never smiled before

Every day brings something new . . .
Something to love, learn or appreciate . . .
My life once so dark for so long
Has exploded with light!

Never did I imagine my world
Would be so bright

So blessed am I for every moment
For every day I live . . .
I feel as if I am a rose
Blooming in the sun
After a long, cold winter

The frost is gone
The pain has ebbed away

What’s left
Is a beautiful life

Saturday, September 14, 2013

Poem - Bipolarity

This was written from the experience of  my mood swings since I am Bipolar II. I wrote this a long time ago before my meds were working as well as they do now.


Bipolarity
by Krystina Grant
_________

Up and Down
Up and Down
Around Around Around

Up and Down
Up and Down
Spiraling to the ground . . .

One moment up
Flying high in the sky

The next crashing down
Hitting the ground to cry . . .

Happy
Sad
Angry tears
Laughs, Cries, Shouts
On and on it goes

Up and Down
Up and Down
Around Around Around . . .

October 28, 2008

Friday, September 13, 2013

Poem - Childhood Dreams

Childhood Dreams
by Krystina Grant _______________


Golden light dampened
By the actions of others

Childhood dreams
Of perfect parties

Dashed . . .

By two selfish girls

But light prevailed
Dreams achieved
The party saved!

The Golden light returned

Even those who chose to bring darkness
Cannot snuff out
The endless enthusiasm that is

Childhood dreams!


November 17, 2008

Wednesday, September 11, 2013

The Day That Changed America - Poem

The Day That Changed America
by Krystina Grant
__________________________

I remember this day
So long ago

Planes
The Twin Towers
Fire
Death

But what was meant to break us apart
Only strengthened us
Our flags flew everywhere the very next day!
Reminding us that we were a country
Meant to stand together
And we did . . .

9/11 our Patriots Day
Will never be forgotten

September 11, 2013

Tuesday, September 10, 2013

The Price of Life - Poem

Price of Life
by Krystina Grant
__________

For everything there is a price
A cost of mind, heart or soul
Friendship, love, life . . .
And sometimes
The Price is darkness . . .
Pain
With no way to escape . . .
Is the price worth the pain?
Is it worth the darkness?

December 5, 2008

Saturday, September 7, 2013

A Writer in the Works by Olivia Stark

A writer in the Works
By Olivia Stark

There have been many stops and starts, not to mention set-backs, for this aspiring author; but she continues to endure.

Born to a young mother, and adopted at three days old by Harold and Helen robinson, Krystina Grant grew up in San Diego, California as an only child. She had four older siblings, three brothers and a sister, who had already grown, at least physically.

She never quite fit in with her adoptive family. She also wondered why there were never any pictures of her mother pregnant with her. Yet she didn’t learn of her birth parents until age 28, when she discovered a legal document of her father’s, which listed her as an adopted daughter. “It never came up, and when my nephew told me I was adopted, I apparently flipped out,” Grant said. “I’m thinking this was around the time my friend, Diane, was in the foster care system, and the people that were taking her in decided they didn’t want her and sent her back.”

Later in life, she started to believe she might have been the product of one of her father’s many affairs. But at 28, the truth finally came out.

“I was house-sitting with my then husband and our children, and they had a living trust done for them, and it was delivered by one of my brother’s girlfriends at the time. And I thought, okay, I don’t know what this is about and I don’t  care if I’m in it, but I wanted to find out how these kinds of things break down, so I decided, okay, I’m gonna read it.”

That was when the revelation came. “My name popped up on the first paragraph, and it listed me as “an adult adopted daughter.”

This time, her parents had no choice but to tell her the truth. Within a month, she found her birth mother. Within eight months, she located her birth father. She re-united with both parents, at least temporarily.

Grant’s passion for writing began at age 11, when she was assigned a two-chapter story. She wrote a twist on “Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs” called “The Nine Critters. The characters were based on the stuffed animals on her bed.

The following year, she and a friend were roll-playing a story. Her friend suggested they write it down. From there, she began script writing. 

“I could write for “Fantasy Island”, I could write “Battlestar Galactica”, I actually combined the two of them – it was a lot of fun.”

At 15, she began writing free-verse poetry, along with a comedy play she wrote with her best friend, Nicole Renee Bissett, that could have earned the two of them millions. It was called Love On the Socks”. Sadly, it never made the stage – yet.

Later in high school, she tried her hand at romance novels. She amused her class mates by writing short romance fictional stories coupling them with their favorite musicians or movie stars.

“I had a mad crush on Tom Selleck,” recalled her long-time best friend, Nicole Renee Bissett. “She wrote a really cool story about how I was a journalist and got together with him writing a story on him. Ironically, that was long before I ever even thought about becoming a journalist. Those were some fun times, and we needed fun times back then.”

Grant’s nine year marriage, which was stormy from nearly day one, ended in divorce. But out of it, she got two grown children, Jordan and Cassandra. She is currently living with her good friends, Jason and Susan Schneider, and her daughter, Cassie, in Spring Valley, California. She continues to edit her first novel, and is excited about the prospect of publishing.


To chat with Grant personally, you can email her at lillyblade@gmail.com  

Monday, September 2, 2013

Writing Exercise. Word Ice Queen


She couldn't believe it! The man actually had the nerve to call her ICE QUEEN?! She was stunned and furious. The man had been nothing but abusive during their stormy 10 year marriage; yelling, name calling, verbal put downs, emotional abuse . . . and even on occasions he'd hit her.

Emily Grant had stayed through it all, even though, if she'd been smart, she thought, she would have dumped him years ago. But then . . . she wouldn't have her children and she couldn't imagine her life without them.

But ICE QUEEN? It wasn't exactly unexpected that he'd try to instigate a fight with her upon bringing the kids back after his weekend visitation. Usually it was something to do with the kids; like spots on the clothes, or that she didn't pack the clothes they needed or something or other. It didn't matter to her because it seemed half the things she packed didn't come back anyway. So why send more??

But ICE QUEEN?? ICE QUEEN?? Over all the times he'd been an ass and had hurt her emotionally, verbally and physically, she'd NEVER denied him sex! HE was the one that wanted to jack off in front of his computer screen instead of coming to bed with her. So if she was the Ice Queen then he was the Court Jester, perferring images on a screen to her in the bed. What a boost to her self esteem THAT had been!

It was after the birth of their second child . . . a little girl . . . she decided that enough was enough. She didn't want her daughter growing up and finding a man just like her father. Emily didn't wish that for her daughter and she prayed that it wasn't too late for their son, who was six at the time of his sister's birth. Two years later, they'd been in court; court order for visitation and all that fun stuff. He had never gotten over the fact that she had DUMPED him.

THAT was what the continued abuse was all about. She knew it, but it didn't make her feel any better. He was sore that she left him. He was sore that she didn't love him anymore or want to be with him. 'Gee, I wonder why that would be,' she thought sarcastically to herself. 'Why wouldn't I want to stay with such a charmer!!'

Though he was gone, the tiff replayed in her mind. The bastard had the nerve to call her an Ice Queen as if SHE had been responsible for their divorce. It had nothing to do with him being an abusive jerk! Nope! Couldn't be!

Eventually, her daughter, who was now 4 years old came up to her.

"Momma?" she said with concerned eyes.

"I'm, okay, baby doll," Emily smiled as she picked her up and put her on her lap. "Mommy was just thinking about something. But don't you worry . . . everything's fine."

"Can we have pizza?" she asked.

Emily smiled.

"I think Pizza is an excellent idea! What kind do you want?"

"CHEESE!"

"Okay, we get half pepperoni for your brother and cheese for us," she said.

"YAY!!" the little girl squealed in delight.

For the moment, the argument was pushed into the back of her mind. She had more important things to focus on.

Saturday, August 31, 2013

Poem - Falling Angel

Here is another poem of mine
******

Fallen Angel
By Krystina Grant
August 9, 2006

I fell through the darkness
Stars like diamond dust my only light
Scattered across the sky
Black as death . . .

Once I flew so high
Touching the sky was possible

Anything was possible . . .

Yet time is not so kind
And my wings of white
Have turned to black
Now broken and failing me

I plummet toward the ground
Knowing it is the end of all I have ever known
That darkness will take me

But I am only a single angel
Alone
Falling . . .

Thursday, August 29, 2013

Poem - Cast Down

This is a poem I wrote a long time ago.

Cast Down
by Krystina Grant
July 31, 2006

In the darkest depths of hell
Beyond the fires
Into the darkness
Into the cold

There is where I reside
Alone
Fearful
Cloaked by the shadows
Away from the light

Nothing to save me
No one . . .
I feel nothing but pain
Sadness

Crying out for salvation
Yet met with nothing
But more darkness
More pain

There is no escape . . .

Wednesday, August 28, 2013

Another Writing Exercise - Word Meadow

I wrote this a couple of years ago, but it's one of my favorites.
******

He wasn't supposed to have found her. She thought she'd covered her tracks. But somehow, there he was . . . unfortunately. The idea was that it would be over. She'd be alone and at least find peace. There would finally be peace and no more pain.

She stared out across the meadow. It had been her place of solitude so long ago. She'd fo
rgotten than she'd taken him here. Her mistake, she thought sadly.

With a long ragged breath, she closed her eyes.

"You need to leave, Daniel," she said.

"Not without you," he said simply.

She couldn't look at him. His chiseled face and blue eyes . . . strong like stone, but she knew the side he hid from the world. Like all of them, he had a soft spot too and apparently she was it. But she didn't want to be it. She wanted it over.

"Lara, you can't do this," he said softly.

"But I can," she replied.

He saw her finger twitch on the trigger, as the pistol with silencer was pressed firmly against her temple. He knew she was serious. He'd seen it in her from the moment they'd met. But somehow he had to stop her. After everything, he couldn't lose her.

"Lara, just take a moment. Just think . . . Tell me why," he implored; anything to stall the dark haired beautiful before him from taking an action that could not be undone.

"You know why," she said. "Just leave me." She choked back a sob. "I am tired. I am sick of the world we live in. I can't live with the memories of the world I somehow managed to survive. The bullet is just making things official. I was dead a long time ago."

"No, Lara," he said. "You weren't. I felt you alive in my arms. When I kissed your neck and your shoulder . . . Your heartbeat would rise . . ."

For a moment, he thought he saw her waiver.

"That's life . . . right there, your heart beating . . . heat . . . touch . . ." He slowly inched toward her. But immediately, he saw her stiffen again. The momentary waiver was gone.

"That was . . . lust," she said. "Chemistry . . . hormones . . . pheromones . . . nothing more."

"Is that what you honestly believe?" he asked.

"Yes," she said, but even the softness of her voice fractured at the simple word. It was a lie. Only he could read her so well.

"Then look me in the eye and tell me that you don't love me," he said. He needed to get close enough to her. If he could look into her green eyes, then maybe he'd have a chance . . . stall her . . . save her . . .

She battled with her feelings. It was like a raging storm and there was no end in sight. She felt as if she was a ship constantly being bashed upon the rocks over and over again. Pain just grew and now he was here. She'd wanted to shield him from this side of herself, but someone he'd known. He's sensed it and followed her. She didn't want him witnessing this final end to her pain . . . to have the image carried with him forever of her weakness and inability to fight the pain any longer.

Barely above a whisper as she bit back tears; she implored him. "Daniel, please just go . . . I don't want you here."

"Look me in the eyes, Lara," he said. "You look me in the eyes and tell me you don't love me and I'll leave you."

Steeling herself for the lie to come, she swallowed hard. Carefully, she moved, never taking the gun from her hand, or away from her temple. Her green eyes were like marble by the time she gazed at him; hard and cold. She'd learned to do that well long ago.

"I don't love you," she said with as much cold as she could muster. But through her emotional fog of pain, she noticed he seemed closer . . . too close . . . She had to act. She didn't want him to see, but now there was no choice.

He had used her indecision to inch closer; distracting her with his request. Seeing the muscle in her arm begin to twitch, he struck like a snake, grabbing the weapon from her and pulling out the clip tossing both as far as he could out into the meadow. She moved to stop him, but was met with nothing but his muscular chest. She pushed against him and shoved at his chest, but in the end, she just dissolved into tears.

His arms held her close. Finally . . . the tears . . . she needed the tears and he needed her. The man made of ice wasn't any longer, not since meeting the girl made of fire. Their line of work rarely made for happy endings one way or another, but he would find a way; for them.

Lara had run so far and so long trying to escape the past that had always haunted her and the overwhelming pain that came with it. She'd never trusted anyone; never let the walls down far enough to allow anyone in until Daniel. He'd made it through her defenses and wanted to save her . . . he wanted to save her so badly, but she wasn't sure she could be saved.

"Don't give up, Lara," he said softly as he kissed her forehead. "Don't give up on me or yourself."

Suddenly, in the distance, she heard the sound of a helicopter. Her eyes turned to Daniel's questioningly. "Thought you needed help," he said simply and before she could argue or struggle, he used a small injector at the artery in her neck and tranqed her. He watched as her eyes grew glassy. "I love you, Lara, and if you think I'm going to just let you die, you've got another thing coming . . ."

Those were the last words she heard before everything faded away into darkness.

Sunday, August 25, 2013

A Positive Thought When You Have One of Those Days!

Thankfully I haven't HAD one of those days lately, but tonight I am a bit tired and just wanted to share something empowering! 


Saturday, August 24, 2013

The Butcher, The Baker or the Candle Stick Maker?

Who do you think would be the scariest bad guy? Would he be rich or poor? Intelligent? A good worker? A slacker? A gentle voice or something scary in it? What makes the perfect bad guy to you? I know what scares me!! But what scares you?? 

Friday, August 23, 2013

The Story That Needs a Good Title! :-)

Working Title - The Protector

The psycho in the story is going after Emily, the main female character. But she has also met another man who she seems to have clicked with. There is more to the story, but as you can tell, it's a bit of a suspense story, so I don't want to give too much away. I don't know if it's enough for some ideas for titles from you guys, but I'd love to hear some ideas! Who knows! I might pick one!

So if you have an idea for it just suggested it. Oh! And the psycho has "lovers," but none are alive now. Another bit of inspiration! ;-)




Thursday, August 22, 2013

Brain Storming Day!!

I'm feeling so clear-headed today despite not sleeping in the last 28 1/2 hours!  But I'm happy that my newest story that I gave a taste of on here is coming along. I have several scenes plotted out in my head and I have the majority of the story. Now I just have to settle down and start writing. Maybe tonight. Maybe tomorrow. But today was brain storming and it was fantastic! By the way, I have a working title for it, but I don't like it. I will try to explain the story a bit and see if anyone can come up with something. The working title is "The Protector," but it's a boring title. I am thinking more of something that deals with the psycho. Think that's a good idea? I'm open to opinions on this! 

Wednesday, August 21, 2013

Poem - The Darkness

I wrote this awhile back. Enjoy!
*****

The Darkness

The darkness comes
In a whisper
Slipping silently by
Engulfing all in its path
Leaving nothing untouched

February 14, 2011



Tuesday, August 20, 2013

Writing Exercise - Word Love

This is another Writing Exercise I did awhile ago. The word for inspiration was Love.
*****


Kira couldn’t believe it. After so long, she was finally there . . . Australia. It had been her dream for two years after she had met James rather unexpectedly online one evening through one of several networking sites she was on. There was something about his photo that had drawn her to him. His smile and the twinkle in his eyes had immediately gotten her attention so she’d sent him a message. It didn’t take them long to be friends, followed by flirting and so much more than that.

Growing up had been an ordeal for Kira. Emotional abuse, verbal abuse and on occasions she was hit with wooden spoons. She guessed it was her mother’s equivalent of a birch stick. All of it had left its damage on her to the point that when she married, she married someone just like her mother. His abuse was the same, only in some respects more and worse. When he hit her, it wasn’t with a wooden spoon but with his fists – though he was always careful not to strike her face. The last time he’d laid a hand on her she’d been 7 months pregnant with their daughter. To that day she still couldn’t remember what she’d said, but he never struck her again. Only the memories of the striking stayed with her. The words had faded when the hysteria had.

When she had divorced her husband, he had continued to emotionally abuse her, using the kids in his games. But in the end, she had gained custody and no visitation for him, so finally she’d had a chance to start healing . . . a bit.

Still, for so long she thought she was broken. That she would stay broken forever. That she was truly incapable of loving someone and that maybe she just wasn’t really loveable. Years she was like that, willing to keep going through life, because that's what life was; living for her kids. Making sure they grew up healthy and as happy as she could make it and try to hold onto herself for as long as she could until there was truly nothing left of her.

Kira had encountered several suitors, but none of them were successful with her; brief affairs, no serious emotions. That was her life and she had accepted that fate; until it got turned over on top of its head by James.

It had started simple; short emails back and forth and sending little pictures and funny captions to each other. It progressed to flirty mass emails where it asked questions “What would you do with me if you found me in your shower” giving many options from calling the police to joining and other things more pleasant. It were those that they finally realized their true attraction for each other and in time that became love even over thousands of miles and almost a day difference between them.

But here she was. Finally . . . She stood on the sand looking out across the ocean in New Whales. It was beautiful. The sky was beautiful. Kira couldn’t honestly remember being this happy, except the days her children were born.

Sighing contentedly, she felt hands move tenderly around her waist.

“What are you thinking?” James whispered in her ear. “Missing home?”

“Not yet,” she replied as she turned to kiss him tenderly. “Part of me feels I am home.”

He smiled and caressed her face, leaning toward her for another kiss; one with more passion. She lost herself in it.

“When will the kids join you here?” he asked as the kiss ended and their eyes met.

“One week,” she replied.

“Then we have a week just for us,” he grinned wickedly, scooping her into his arms as he headed to the car.

She laughed. “What are you doing?

“I’m not going to waste a moment,” he said.

Carefully sliding her into the car she pulled him to her. “I love you,” she said softly and cuddled against him.

He had awakened a part of her that she had felt dead. Because of him, she had looked toward the future; not just making it through each day. He gave her a dream. He gave her his heart . . . He had given her his love and she had willingly given herself to him.

“I love you, Kira,” he said, whispering her name, like a breath on the wind.

For the moment, life was perfect and she couldn’t ask for more.

Monday, August 19, 2013

Writing Exercise - Top 10 Songs on Your Character's Playlist

This is another writing exercise - 


Kara Storm was getting ready for a work-out of punching and kicking at a suspended bag, but to help focus her, she had her ipod. Placing the buds securely in her ears she scanned the songs looking for the right one to get started with.

'Policy of Truth' by Depeche Mode, no . . . 'Move along' by All American Rejects . . . no . . . 'Otherside' by the Red Hot Chili Peppers? No she wasn't in the mood to start with those and kept scanning. 'Tourniquet' by Evanescense, 'Bullet with butterfly wings' by Smashing Pumpkins,'Savin' Me' by Nickelback, 'Leave Out all the Rest' by Linkin Park, 'Kryponite' by 3 Doors Down? But nothing sounded good. Then she found it!

"Ah yes . . . No More Sorrow," she said to herself. Linkin Park was good work out music and especially this song when you had things in your past you wanted to get even for. One day, she thought, but not today. Today she was going to punch and kick the bag in front of her until she couldn't move her arms and legs without aching. It would keep her sane for the time being.

Starting the music, she took her first punch at the hanging bag.

Sunday, August 18, 2013

A Taste of Another Story in the Works

Emily Sinclair was just getting up from the couch. It was getting late and she needed to get home, though it was only a house away.

“Thanks for having me over,” she said to her best friend, Amanda White, who was still on the couch. “The movie was great!”

“I told you you’d like it,” her friend smiled, remote in hand shutting off the DVD player.

As soon as the machine was off the TV channel popped on. It was so late that the 11 o’clock news was playing.

“It has been almost four weeks since the disappearance of Candace Langston, the 30 year old mother of two. Her car found abandoned in the parking lot of the market she regularly shopped at. There are still no leads, but it’s suspected that this ties in to the other disappearance of Morgan Leigh the month before that . . .”

“That’s just awful,” Amanda said.

“It’s sad to say but the women are probably dead,” Emily said.

“That’s horrible,” she replied. “But probably true.”

“Makes you want to walk around with a gun,” Emily replied.

“I don’t know if I could shoot someone.”

“If my life were in danger, I don’t think I’d have any trouble pulling the trigger.”

“You were always more of the defensive type,” Amanda replied with a smile.

Emily returned the smile. “Want to have dinner tomorrow night? I’ll make burritos,” she said.

Amanda groaned. “Oh man . . . my favorite! But I can’t. I’m going out to dinner with Mark.”

Emily shrugged. “Okay, next time. Just let me know when you’re not seeing Mark, or invite him! I don’t know my best friend’s boyfriend all that well.”

“That sounds like a plan!” she said. “I’ll see if he likes burritos.”

“Oh, he’ll like mine! Everyone likes mine!”

“You’re right!” she said. “I’ll call him tomorrow and let you know.”

“Great!” Emily replied. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Night!”

“Good night, Emmy.”

Emily headed to the door. She yawned. It was definitely time to get ready for bed.

He watched as she exited the house; her wavy, chestnut colored hair hanging around her shoulders, moving gently in the slight breeze. Her body was ripe. Perfect. Her curves were a woman’s curves. Her features were soft and strong at the same time. He could almost feel her struggle against him already. See her body spasm against the pulse of energy he would put her against. He could feel her body and see her blood . . . especially the blood. He would have her and no one could stop him. She would become one of his lovers.

Thursday, August 15, 2013

Writing Exercise From Today. Word - Burglary

Writing Exercise - Word: Burglary

My heart pounded as I looked around. My whole apartment had been trashed! Things were broken everywhere! Things toppled over. There didn't seem to be anything that wasn't touched. Well, except for the kitchen table. The view of it all sent shivers down my back. Was this random or did someone specifically go after ME. I did have enemies like my Ex-Husband and this woman, Jackie, at work. I never knew why she didn't like me specifically, but she didn't like me. I didn't think she was capable of doing something like this. She was more hot air than anything else. So that left my Ex-husband Mark. But what could he have been after? It’s not like I had a bunch of a things that were useful to him, or worth much. But it could have just been someone off the street as well.

I went to a sliding panel on the floor in a corner under the brown rug. Under the panel was a safe. It could only be opened by my thumb print. As I pressed my thumb against the sensor, the safe popped open. I looked inside. There were still all my passports, birth certificates, money, jewelry and a flash drive. I looked at it and sighed. I was happy that everything was there.

Just as I started putting everything back a hand went around my neck pulling me up to my feet. 

“Hi, Sarah,” said a familiar voice. It sent a shiver down my spine! It was someone I didn't expect; a colleague. “I was just waiting for you,” he said with a happy, seductive voice.

Suddenly I felt the pinch in my neck and everything began to turn dark; my body feeling like putty.

“Now you’re mine,” he whispered into my ear.

Wednesday, August 14, 2013

Tuesday, August 13, 2013

A Positive Thought for Today!

though I don't feel like I am pushed down right now, I still find it very motivating; especially when I have been pushed down in the past. Staying positive is the best thing you can do for yourself. And for me staying positive is the key to my passion in writing! I will get up and keep going!!


Monday, August 12, 2013

Writing Exercise

I shared this on another Blog I have, but this is a writing exercise I did awhile back. The way this particular writing exercise works is that you pick a word or two and write a little story that gets inspired by them! It's a good way to keep working on your writing! :-)

Writing Exercise - Words: Valentine's Day, Rain
What a Valentine's Day, Lynne thought. No boyfriend to speak of and all her friends had someone. She had still managed to get a reservation at her favorite restaurant so she had been looking forward to that. They served the best steaks.

As she walked from her car to the entrance it started raining and not just sprinkles. It was hard rain like God had opened the flood gates. Needless to say she was instantly wet. She groaned inwardly, but she wasn't about to give up her reservation no matter how wet and scraggly she looked now.

However, as she approached the door a man sat there on the bench completely drenched from the rain. He looked very forlorn as he held a single red rose in his hand. She couldn't help stopping to check on this man.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

He gave her a half smile as he gazed at her with beautiful blue eyes. "I'm okay. I just got dumped by my girlfriend on Valentine's day in a text . . . a text . . ." He shook his head.

The rain was still coming down on them as she looked at the door of the restaurant and then back to him as an idea formed.

"What's your name?" she asked.

"Brad," he replied.

"Well, Brad, I'm Lynne. Want to come in and have dinner with me? I have a reservation."

"You want to have dinner with a stranger?"

"Why not?" she said. "We're both alone and it's Valentine's day."

He smiled a little more. "All right," he said as he stood up. Then he handed her the rose. "Happy Valentine's day."

Lynne smiled. "Thanks," she said as she took the rose. "Happy Valentine's day to you too."

Together they walked into the restaurant soaking wet, but glad they weren't alone.

Saturday, August 10, 2013

Assassin's Seduction Teaser - The Beginning

Thought I would share part of the beginning as another teaser. :-)

Part of Chapter 1

He had her by the hair on her knees. The gun was placed at the back of her skull where it was sure to rip straight through her spinal cord killing her almost instantaneously. As long as it was quick, she didn't care. Laurissa Fox would have killed herself already had she not stopped herself in the bathroom only yesterday. The razor blade was still there, waiting at the edge of the sink for her to use. Now she wouldn't need it, she thought. In fact, he would be doing her a favor, taking this burden from her shoulders.

The man holding her down with the gun could tell that she wasn't afraid. She wasn't  shaking. There was no pleading for her life. She seemed resigned. Quiet . . . still . . . waiting . . .

“You do understand that I'm going to blow your head off, right?" he said with surprise. His British accent did nothing to soften the harshness of his voice. "There's no coming back from that . . . You'll be dead. Don't you care?"

"Why should I?" she asked. "You want me scared? Because it's not going to happen. You can't scare someone whose not afraid to die . . .Whose already dead inside . . . Now are you going to shut the hell up and pull the trigger or what?" she asked, staring at the Persian rug her  knees were sinking into. 

Friday, August 9, 2013

A New Pic of Me - Krystina Grant

I wanted to post a better pic of me. Something that looked a little more professional than what I posted. That was a last minute photo choice just to make sure I could get ME out there. But this is so much better! I feel pretty! I also have to brag a little being a mom. My daughter Cassi did my hair and gave me pointers on the make-up. She also took the photo. She did a great job! I wouldn't mind using this as my author's pic.


Assassin's Seduction

I have finally decided that it was time to try to get my book back out there again! I hope that this time I generate more interest and creating this blog, I hope so do some of it. I plan to post some chapters and maybe a pic a friend might sketch for me for an example of what a cover might look like. I want something to show you  to make you interested in what I might put out there. I have other books in the works too, but we'll start with my first and my pride and joy; Assassin's Seduction.

Here's a tease - What do you think about an assassin falling in love? Especially with his target?