If you're under 18, then go on and git.

Monday, October 16, 2017


I was going to write this weekend, I swear it. But I did nothing authorly. Well, edits on the new Power short. But I'm in a writing funk, and today was not a good mental health day, so...those seem to happen more often, and I swear to Tinkerbell, getting good mental healthcare is frickin' next to impossible.

I will finish Planets though; I've been so close for weeks now, and just unable to work through the mental sludge to get back to writing. The blog story's been all I've worked on, and it's helped make my days happier here and there, as have y'all. Part of me not getting writing done is that yes, I had hours, HOURS to myself for the first time in months, and I thought I'd write, but what I ended up doing was cleaning and baking and cooking, and that relaxed me. (Except for the two hours wasted on the phone with Xfinity) I just...was, you know? Now, when Amber finds out what her days off are this week, I'll sit down with Planets.

Then I need to decide if I'm going to keep writing. That's not a decision to make when I'm not in the best place mentally.

Someone asked on the blog if I was going to finish Metamorphosis-- I had planned on it, but I don't know. I don't think I should make any more promises at this point. It's really hard to write, too, when I have kids over 40 hours a week, and I don't blame Amber, she has to work, someone has to watch the kids, but I can't write with them here. To try would only frustrate all of us, and there's more than just that to it anyway.

It's getting cool here; I got Elijah from the bus stop today and was cold in the shade. O.o I didn't think it was supposed to be chilly out. High 70's, but I guess I was wrong.

Last night a fire alarm went off here at the apartment complex. Not our set of units, and I don't think it was an actual fire, but sheesh. A couple of weeks ago, the police had to shoot a man who was beating his wife at the back of the complex, and every night for the past few nights, we've heard our neighbors screaming and cussing through Naomi's bedroom wall. Don't even have to eavesdrop; they're just that loud.

I'm going to cuddle with PNut for a bit and see if I can unwind from this day. I hope y'all have a fabulous evening. ***huggz***

Friday, October 13, 2017

Across the Tides Ch. 18 ***NSFW***

Copyright 2017
Bailey Bradford

Chapter Eighteen

It was hard to breathe so far away from the ocean. Draven splashed water on his face then looked at his reflection in the mirror. The hotel’s lighting made his skin look pasty—at least, he hoped it was the lighting. The water didn’t refresh him as much as the ocean would have, but it helped some. If he was going to be spending weekends or whatever there, he might start bringing a few gallons of saltwater with him.
Draven toweled off his face then ran his fingers through his hair. He was damned nervous, though judging by Titus’s speedy reply, he wanted to see Draven. Surely that meant Titus would be open to a relationship.
Draven only shivered a little as he turned away from the mirror. He left the hotel room then had to go back in to get the condoms and lube packets. He was being optimistic, true, but he and Titus had burned up the sheets most of the times they were together, barring when they were in public places.
And the pier…
Draven’s cock began to harden. He ignored that horny beast and drove to Titus’s house. Draven had scoped it out earlier. Small, brick, clean yard—and Titus inside, that was all Draven cared to notice.
He parked then unbuckled and got out. The heat made his skin burn and sweat break out on his brow. Draven decided not to worry about it. He and Titus had been sweaty together much of the time back at home.
Draven patted his shirt pocket, where the condoms and lube were weighing it down. He removed those and put them in the back pocket of his jeans.
He closed the distance between him and Titus’s front door. Anxiety and anticipation were battling for dominance in him. Draven knocked on the door and hoped it was okay to be optimistic. He might end up being rejected—
The door was opened then Titus was right there, and one of them moved, or both of them, Draven couldn’t have said and it didn’t matter. He had Titus in his arms, was crushing his mouth to Titus’s and backing him inside. Draven kicked the door shut and spun Titus, pressing him against it so he could better ravage Titus’s mouth.
The ravaging went both ways; Titus wasn’t a passive kisser. He bit and battled for dominance as he kissed. It turned Draven on something fierce.
Draven’s cock was going to burst through the material of his jeans if he got any harder. He reached around and gripped Titus’s ass.
Titus moaned and turned his head aside enough to speak. “Fuck me, Draven. Please, fuck me!”
Draven wasn’t an idiot. He wouldn’t say no to that request. “Missed you,” his traitorous mouth said, which wasn’t what Draven was supposed to say. He’d meant to agree, and that confession had just...slipped out.
“Oh, god, me too, missed you so much.” Titus peppered his face with kisses. “So glad you’re here.”
Draven kissed him again, then he pulled, and Titus got the message. He hoisted his legs up, locking them around Draven’s hips.
“Bedroom’s to the left,” Titus murmured before he began licking Draven’s neck.
“We should talk—“ Draven shut up at the look Titus gave him. “Later.”
“Later,” Titus agreed, then they were stumbling as they groped and kissed their way into Titus’s bedroom.
Draven was surprised when Titus spun him around and pushed him down onto the bed. His dick grew harder and his breaths shorter at Titus’s aggressiveness. He didn’t get a chance to do more than bounce once before Titus was on him, straddling Draven’s thighs, shoving his shirt up to his pits, then kissing Draven with a dominance that had Draven crying out in need. He grabbed at Titus, gripping his ass as Titus began rutting against him.
Titus pinched Draven’s nipples and bit his bottom lip. Draven jolted and arched, unable to be still or silent as he called out Titus’s name.
Another pinch, a twist, and Titus began sucking up a mark on Draven’s neck.
Draven’s body seemed to be functioning in lust-mode. He wasn’t capable of doing anything but letting his baser needs rule. He found the button and zip on Titus’s jeans and quickly worked them open. Titus’s thick cock bobbed out.
No underwear—fuck!
“Yeah,” Titus murmured before nipping Draven’s neck.
Draven slid his hands around to Titus’s bare ass. He tracked Titus’s crease with his fingertips, and Titus moaned, then he was moving again, up on his knees, whipping his shirt off and tossing it aside, rising up on one knee, pulling at his pants.
Draven helped, sitting up and nearly toppling Titus over at first, then he helped him balance and as soon as Titus was naked, Titus attacked Draven’s belt and pants, fingers a blur as he got to Draven’s cock.
Draven started to mention the condoms but Titus bolted off the bed and bent over, giving Draven a glorious view of his ass and his pucker. Titus stood up and had a condom and lube packet in hand.
“Prepared,” Titus said, down to one word sentences, which was more than Draven could manage.
Titus opened the first package then rolled the condom down Draven’s cock. He jacked it a couple of times, and Draven hissed. “Close!” He could get a word out when necessary after all.
Titus opened the lube, reached behind himself, and then he was climbing onto the bed, straddling Draven again.
Without a word said between them, their gazes locked together, and Draven knew. He knew this man was it for him, was the one who would take his heart and cradle it or break it.
He was utterly terrified and excited at the same time. He didn’t get to examine either emotion long because Titus fisted his cock, holding it up, then Titus began to press his hole against it.
Draven’s mouth went dry as he placed his hands on Titus’s thighs. Titus bore down, and the tight, hot grip of his rim, then his inner walls, drove a strangled shout from Draven.
Titus didn’t go slow. He pushed down, his ass slapping Draven’s groin and just as fast, Titus rose up again. He braced his hands on Draven’s chest, fingers scraping at Draven’s nipples as Titus began riding him hard, fast, mercilessly.
Draven didn’t want mercy. He cursed and bucked up, moving his grip to Titus’s hips so he could help Titus slam back down.
Draven dug his heels down and fucked Titus with all the strength he had.
It wasn’t enough. He growled and rolled them over, then pulled out, flipped Titus onto his belly, parted Titus’s ass with one hand, and used the other to guide his cock back into the tight heat of Titus’s body.
Titus reared up onto his knees, shoved back, and they were lost in fucking, Draven pounding into Titus, holding his hips so hard he probably would leave bruises.
Titus began to grunt, “More,” every few thrusts, and Draven gave him everything—slamming into him over and over, faster, rougher, need building, heating his skin, his insides, until Draven thought he’d combust.
He changed the angle of his hips and Titus bellowed. Draven reached under him, fisted Titus’s dick and started jacking him off.
Titus shouted, and his inner walls clenched around Draven’s dick. Draven bent over him, bit Titus’s nape, and hot cum spurted over Draven’s hand. Titus’s ass went so tight around Draven’s cock, there was no holding back.
Draven’s head spun and he might have screamed as he rammed his hips forward, burying his shaft as deeply in Titus as possible. Each spurt of cum felt like it boiled up from his gut, jetted to his balls, then erupted from his dick.
Draven was absolutely stripped when his climax began to ebb. He’d never had such a core-shattering orgasm before, and he’d had amazing ones with Titus.
If he’d had any hidden doubts about making a long(ish) distance relationship with Titus work, they’d all been incinerated by that release.
Titus was his. He was Titus’s. Titus might not know it yet, but Draven was going to convince him that they were it for each other.

Although, when he caught a glimpse of Titus’s expression, the bliss and affection there, Draven wondered if Titus hadn’t already come to the same conclusion.

Thursday, October 12, 2017

Working on the installment...

But it's going to be up tomorrow, because I keep nodding off. Not that it's boring! I just slept like 3 hours last night is all. But I've got 1k down on it already. Will post the whole thing tomorrow afternoon.


Wednesday, October 11, 2017

Power: Exchange Pre-Order

Heya! I know most of y'all have read this, but if you'd pretty please share the link, I'd appreciate it! Pride Publishing has Power 1: Exchange available for pre-order for 99 cents. :-)  I can't wait for y'all to read book 3, the all-new one!

Power 1: Exchange

Thank you <3

Wednesday Chat

I am determined to finish Planets this week, and it looks doable as I have a couple of days free-- woot! I don't know what I'll write after that; I'm considering options. Maybe one of the numerous shifter stories I have started. What do y'all think? I need to make it a new story, not part of an already pubbed series as most of those are contracted with ePubs. I want to self-publish this next one, so...What's y'all's preference? Comment below or email me at itsbaileybradford@yahoo.com

Why is there a Tom Petty video here? Well. Because his death hit me harder than Prince's, Merle Haggard's, or George Michael's, or any other performer's-- and it surprised me how hard it hit. I didn't realize what an intrinsic part of my life his music was, starting from when I was pretty young. I have to start appreciating my favorites so much more while they are alive. I've had this song on replay for about 24 hours, not blasting it, just there. I've had Tom on constant play since he passed away. Actually, good advice-- appreciate everyone I care about more. Can you care too much?

Tomorrow Naomi and I are going to check out the Balloon Fest, the freebie part of it anyway, lol. She's wanted to see this for 4 years; I can't let her miss out on it.

I hope y'all are enjoying the blog story; methinks there are some angsts upcoming. We can't have the story ending too soon. Seems like I just started it.

Wishing y'all a fantastic Humpday...hmm. Pic? Yes. Pic!

Copyright: <a href='https://www.123rf.com/profile_pawelsierakowski'>pawelsierakowski / 123RF Stock Photo</a>

Across the Tides Ch. 17

Copyright 2017
Bailey Bradford

Chapter Seventeen

Summer was going to drag by. Titus wished he’d been able to teach summer school; he’d have had something to help pass the time. As it was, he’d spent the week since he’d returned from the coast moping around like a lovesick fool. And he’d put off dinner with Stacy and Michelle; if he told them he was ill a second time, they’d show up at his doorstep.
The idea of spending an evening with them made his heart ache, and it also made him feel like the biggest asshole in the world, because he was envious of their relationship. He wanted that kind of bond… and he knew who he wanted it with.
“Stupid. Don’t be stupid.” Titus opened his eyes and gave the bridge of his nose a rest. He got up from the couch and stretched. Maybe he’d feel less moody if he actually left the house.
That meant showering first. Titus sniffed his pits. “Definitely showering.”
There was no point in sitting around feeling sorry for himself, or thinking he was heartbroken. That last one was stupid; he and Draven hadn’t even spent a full week together. It wasn’t like Titus loved him. That just wasn’t possible in such a short time.
I’m going to stop thinking about him. Just stop it, Titus. Stop the pity party and pouting and all the other crappy p-words that are downers. If he gave himself that lecture often enough, eventually it’d actually sink in.
Just like if he kept telling himself there was no way he could have truly fallen for Draven. It was only the sex, and the fact that Titus hadn’t had any involving someone other than himself in years.
And the reason for that didn’t bear thinking about. There was nothing Titus could do to change the past.
But I could stop letting it control my future.
Titus groaned and stripped off his clothes in the bathroom. He wasn’t in the mood for any deep thinking. He was just in a summer funk; that was all that was wrong with him.
He should be reveling in the adventure he’d had. Think about the good times, the sex, Draven…
“Fuck. Ugh!” Titus stepped into the shower and turned it on. The water was cold, but Texas was hot and Titus hadn’t bumped the AC down, so he was fine being pelted by chilled water.
He cleaned himself almost mechanically until he reached the lower part of his stomach. Then parts started tingling and images burst into his head like they’d been held back by a bungee cord that snapped.
Draven, kissing him, touching him, fucking him—and Draven smiling, scowling, laughing, leaning close to whisper in his ear, sharing touristy info and sexual innuendos.
And rather than becoming aroused, Titus’s mood plummeted. He missed Draven. Lying to himself about it wasn’t helping. Whether it was stupid or not, he missed the man.
That might have only been the case because Titus had been alone for so long. Not that he’d had options where he lived… the dating pool for him was borderline microscopic, and even Stacy and Michelle kept their relationship hidden.
Titus didn’t want to live like that, not if he found someone he loved.
But he hadn’t found that someone yet.
Yes you have.
“Shut up,” Titus muttered to the voice in his head. “I have not!”
He finished cleaning up then he turned the shower off. He hadn’t stopped thinking about Draven, but he was going to try to stop being so down about their fling coming to an end. They’d both agreed on what they’d done beforehand. Titus’d had no right to change the established rules even though he’d wanted to ask Draven if there was a way to make a relationship work. Although, Titus wasn’t sure he’d have actually been brave enough to speak up.
He walked into his bedroom, a towel around his hips. His phone screen was lit up, so he either had a missed call or a text. Or both.
Titus was betting on a text from Stacy. He really needed to get over himself and go see her and Michelle. Maybe he’d call her and offer to show up with pizza for dinner tomorrow. They could watch a movie and stuff themselves on cheesy, greasy goodness.
That’s what he’d do. Titus crossed over to his phone before he could change his mind. The screen went dark just before he got there, but he picked up his phone then tapped it.
And almost dropped it when he was the text.
Can I come talk to you?
Titus’s heart pounded so hard he halfway expected to keel over. He placed a hand on his chest as he reread the message from Draven. He hadn’t been able to delete Draven’s contact info, but even if he had, he would have known that number.
And though it was possible that he should have given the request some thought, Titus didn’t. He replied with Yes, of course. Would love to see you again. It was perhaps too enthusiastic, but it was still less than what Titus held back.
Draven answered him in seconds. I’m at the Holiday Inn. Be there in five minutes.
“Here?” Titus squeaked. “He’s already here?”
Is that okay? Draven texted.
Titus nodded then groaned because Draven couldn’t see him bobbing his head. He answered just as quickly with, More than okay.
Now all Titus needed to do was to decide on whether to open the door while wearing the towel, or while wearing nothing at all.
Because he wanted Draven, and yes, he wanted to talk to him, but first…

Yeah, but first--