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




Tuesday, June 27, 2017

Wiggle Ch. 16

Copyright 2017
Bailey Bradford





Chapter Sixteen


The sketch wasn’t right. Hell, he wasn’t right. Dare cursed and crumpled up the piece of paper he’d been drawing on and tossed it toward the trash can. Ever since he’d done the walk of shame from the ranch three days ago, Dare had tried towell, he didn’t know what, exactly. It’d been clear to him that neither Chiz nor Bowen wanted him for more than that one hookup despite anything else that might have been said.
Heck, Bowen hadn’t even been able to stand the sight of him. It’d been Chiz who’d talked to him, fed him, then sent Dare on his merry way.
Okay, yeah, the biting thing had weirded Dare out. He’d been sure there was something unnatural about the injury itself.
But when he’d snuck a peek at it before Chiz had escorted him off the property, it’d just looked like a bite, not the bloody, nasty injury Dare could have sworn he’d seen right after all the spectacular sex had happened.
He rubbed at his temples. He’d had a head injury, too. Maybe he’d hallucinated the blood and deep puncture marks. He must have, because people didn’t have the kind of teeth necessary to make such a bite.
Dare closed his eyes. His insides felt like hot lava. No, like butterflies made out of hot lava and Brussel sprouts, his least favorite food in the world. His gut was hot, heaving, queasy.
His usual method for dealing with shit, or escaping from it, wasn’t working. Every time he tried to draw, his brain couldn’t or wouldn’t cooperate with is hand. Dare was so frustrated, he could have screamed.
His cell phone rang. Dare grunted and ignored it. He’d thought he’d turned the damn thing off after the last call from his mama.
Not that he’d answered. Or checked the voice mail she’d left. In fact, he’d avoided his family, because frankly, he was sick of them all. They’d never let him be anything or anyone other than what they wanted him to be—which was no better than them. Dare wasn’t conceited by any means, but a life of crime and lack of morals weren’t things he aspired to.
When the cell stopped ringing, Dare picked it up. He didn’t check the caller ID. No need to since his mama had her own ring tone. He pressed the button to power the phone off, and liked to have leapt out of his skin when someone banged on the front door.
Dare dropped the phone on the table and started sweating. That sounded like angry knocking, and that almost certainly meant family.
He didn’t have anything on the table to use to cover up his sketch pad and pencils, so he called out, “Just a sec!” before taking his art supplies and rushing to his bedroom. He shoved everything under his bed then ran his hands over his unkempt hair. Didn’t bother checking himself in the mirror; Dare was pretty sure he looked as messy as he felt.
Despite his request or announcement, someone kept pounding on the door the entire time Dare had been moving about. His temper escalated with each thud of that fist on the door. When he finally grabbed the knob and yanked it open. Dare was spoiling for a fight.
And since it was his brother Earl on the other side of the door, Dare knew he was going to get one.
Sure enough, Earl swung without warning. Dare managed to turn his head enough that Earl only grazed his cheek, but he didn’t expect the left to the stomach.
“Umph!” Dare fought not to hunch over as the breath left his lungs. Earl would have slammed his knee into Dare’s face had Dare given him the chance.
Rather than risk a broken nose, Dare remained upright. He tried to shut the door, but Earl kicked and shoved.
“You ain’t getting away from me, asshole!” Earl bellowed. “Fucking think you can ignore mama and your family? Think again!”
Earl got past Dare and into the room. Dare spun around and blocked a punch with his forearm. “Cut it out, fucker,” he demanded.
Earl’s beady eyes held an unholy gleam. “Fuck you, pussy boy.”
Dare wondered what that even meant. He blocked another punch and kicked Earl’s left knee.
Earl yelped and went down hard. Dare hopped back out of range of legs or arms. “What the fuck is your problem?”
“Think you broke my knee!”
Dare felt bad, but he wasn’t getting closer to Earl. “Yeah? Well, maybe you shouldn’t show up here trying to kill me.”
“Beat some fuckin’ sense into you,” Earl snapped as he started to get up. His knee was obviously not broken, and his ploy to get Dare close enough to hurt, failing. “You think you’re better’n us, but you ain’t. Blood tells.”
“Tells what?” Dare asked, and damned if he didn’t sound a little snotty there. “Doesn’t seem to be saying much between you and me except that you want to spill mine.”
“Teach you you ain’t any better,” Earl said. “Too good to talk to your family?”
“No.” Maybe? Or not too good, but notenough like them to get along. Dare wasn’t going to say as much. “I’ve just been sick and didn’t want anyone to fuss, which I guess gets a psycho sicced on me.”
Earl sneered at him. “You look shitty, and fuck you. I hope you got something that’ll kill your ass. You can fight, you can answer the phone.”
Dare’s anger burst out of him before he knew it. “What the fuck is wrong with my family? Y’all ain’t going to be happy until I’m a criminal? Why is that? Why can’t I just live like I want to without all this stupid violence and bullshit? Huh? Why can’t I just be me?” He surged toward Earl. “And fuck you for showing up at my home, starting shit ‘cause you’re bored or insecure or—“
This time, Dare expected the punch, and he ducked it easily. He was so mad, and he wasn’t sure it all had to do with family. There was the lack of a job, the frustration of his attempts at drawing, the being ditched like a piece of used ass—
It felt good when his fist connected with Earl’s jaw. Felt better to hear him grunt, to see spit and blood fly out of his hateful mouth.
The violence felt too good, in fact. That scared Dare and he grabbed Earl by the collar, spun him around, and shoved him toward the door. “Get out, and don’t come back here again.”
Dare expected more argue, more fighting, but Earl went out the door, stumbling, not looking too steady as he left.
Dare watched him, worrying that he’d done some serious injury. Earl stopped at the end of the sidewalk and turned around long enough to flip Dare off and call out, “Better watch your back, bitch.”
Well, that was likely accurate. Dare doubted he’d see Earl coming next time. Earl was a skeeze, and he’d try to hurt Dare without risking harm to himself, so a dagger in the back—literally-- wasn’t unlikely.
Dare couldn’t find it in himself to worry too much. The anger he’d felt left him and all he had was a sense of emptiness. He couldn’t draw, couldn’t find a job, couldn’t stop having a pity party for himself. He rolled his eyes and closed the front door. Dare locked it, then strolled over to the small living room window.
Is this what it’s like to be depressed? Because if so, I might have been depressed for a long time. No, no, I’m not mentally ill. That’s He stopped himself from ending that thought with ‘crazy’.
The truth was, the hopelessness, the apathy wasn’t completely unfamiliar. He’d had some rough days here and there.
The sensation that he was dog-paddling in wet cement, and sinking fast? That was new, harder than the periods of time where he’d slogged through life. This was different. He could feel the hope slipping out of his pores one tiny particle at a time.
Dare pressed his head against the glass pane and closed his eyes. Was it a mood, a set of circumstances that had him feeling so low?
He wasn’t sure. Dare tried to examine his feelings, but there was a big ache deep inside of him, a hollowness that he didn’t understand. The need to sketch it made his fingers it, but he was afraid he’d fail and simply frustrate himself again.
So he let his mind do the drawing, and the mix of darkness, shades of black that he had no names for, swirled in his mind.
He felt cleaved in half, emptied out.
And he was being a melodramatic idiot. There was no reason for him to be missing two men he didn’t know—which was, he concluded, the root to his immediate problem.
God, he was a clingy jerk, wasn’t he? Having sex with Chiz and Bowen(ish) didn’t give him a claim them. They weren’t even his friends.
Dare opened his eyes and pushed away from the window. “Stop being a pathetic idiot,” he said to his reflection there. “Seriously. Grow. Up. It was just sex.”

Maybe if he said it often enough, his stupid brain and, more importantly, his heart, would actually believe him.

Monday, June 26, 2017

*WHEW*

Well, I drove to south Texas Saturday, came back to Albuquerque yesterday-- late, close to midnight. Slept about two hours all weekend, then helped unload Amber's moving truck. Everything hurts, but especially where my neck and shoulder meet on the left side. I have scoliosis, so my spine is crooked, and the bend is to the right by my shoulder blade (compressing a couple of discs), so back aches happen often and blah blah. Amber and the kids are moved up here, so that's the important thing.

I'll write an installment later tonight, once the grandkids have visited and I've had a chance to shower.

But, if you would, please, pass this along. We're only raised 75$ for Peyton and his family, and this is a little boy with a recurrence of Ewing's Sarcoma. It's a serious GoFundMe. I'm not asking y'all to donate, unless you can afford to, of course, but please do share the link. Thank you so much.

***huggz***


Peyton's GoFundMe

Thursday, June 22, 2017

And A Little Personal Promo!! Remember Rory's Last Chance?

Well, Rory's Last Chance is on sale for 99 Cents! Woot! Pride is running a special on the series, so if you've missed any of them, here's your chance to get them. Also, please share the link, if you would. Thank you!

For those who've been around the blog for...er, 7 years, you might remember that this was a story I posted here first, for free. That led to an entire series, and I so love these cowboys. Maybe the series doesn't have to end.

I suck at goodbyes.





And the rest of the series? Discounted for the rest of the series from 22nd June across Amazon only:
Miles to Go £1.99/$2.99/€2.99
Bend £1.99/$2.99/€2.99
What Matters Most £2.99/$3.99/€3.99
Ex's & O's £2.99/$3.99/€3.99
A Bit of Me £2.99/$3.99/€3.99
A Bit of You £1.99/$2.99/€2.99
In My Arms Tonight £1.99/$2.99/€2.99
Where There's A Will £2.99/$3.99/€3.99
My Heart to Keep £1.99/$2.99/€2.99

Have y'all seen this?

I don't know about you, but I miss ARe sooooo bad. Oh, I'm still pissed AF, and that isn't likely to change, but the ease of finding books there...

So, I am thrilled to share this! Totally Entwined Group Limited has created an amazing site for Romance books and readers!

First For Romance

This isn't just Pride or TB books. It's a site for anyone who writes. They'll be offering more services as they go along, so if you'd like to take a look around the place, please do share, and share the link if you will. I will be using FFR for contests in the future.

I'm excited, and I really hope authors use the site so I can find books easily again :D

Happy Weekend to y'all! Be safe, and take care <3

Wednesday, June 21, 2017

Wiggle Ch. 15

Copyright 2017
Bailey Bradford






Chapter Fifteen


“Oh my God, we killed him!” Dare shrieked, knocking Bowen out of his post-orgasmic stupor. “Argh!” Dare tried to scramble up and away.
Bowen managed to catch Chiz as his limp body toppled backwards. He couldn’t grab Dare in time to keep him from slipping and falling into the tub.
“Ow!” Dare was all legs and arms as Bowen tried to get him to calm down.
“Dare, stop! Chiz isn’t dead. He just has this reaction to really intense sex,” Bowen explained. At least, he hoped that was the case since it had happened twice. “Dare!”
Dare went still as a dead man himself when Bowen shouted. “He’s not dead? Yes he is!” But Dare got to his feet.
Just then, Chiz’s chest heaved and he whimpered as his lashes fluttered.
Bowen saw the blood just as Dare let out another shriek.
“Augh! He’s bleeding!” Dare went white as a ghost and wobbled.
“Dare,” Bowen snapped, trying to reach him before he passed out, too. “Keep it together, man!”
“Whazzit?” Chiz mumbled, blinking slowly, then wincing. “Ow. Fuck.”
Dare’s mouth was hanging open, and he looked from Chiz to Bowen, then back and forth again. “You fucking bit him!”
And it was Bowen’s turn to wince. “I— “
“I begged him to,” Chiz cut in. “Mmm. Made me come so hard.”
“Oh my god,” Dare rasped, still pale, still looking like he was close to collapsing. “But there’s blood, and it—“ He covered his mouth with one hand, eyes bulging.
Bowen leapt toward Dare, grabbed him by the elbow, and twirled him close to the toilet, at which point, Dare dropped to his knees and was ill.
Shit! Shit! Bowen wanted to deck himself. Hadn’t he said he knew Dare wouldn’t like pain? And yet Bowen had lost control again, had bitten Chiz in a way that certainly didn’t look like a human bite. And he suspected Dare had seen the deep punctures, the holes that no human canines would have made.
Chiz’s wound looked raw and nasty.
And it wouldn’t look that way for long.
There was no way to explain a quick-healing injury to Dare without telling him the truth.
Bowen noticed how Dare trembled and seemed to pull away from his touch when Bowen tried to comfort him by touching his back. It hurt, and it shouldn’t have. Bowen felt the sting in his chest, the burn of rejection, but he forced himself to back up, to give Dare space.
“What’s wrong?” Chiz asked, rubbing at his eyes. Then his mouth rounded, lips forming an ‘O’ as he glanced down at the blood streaking from his shoulder to his chest. “Oh fuck,” he whispered, returning his gaze to Bowen’s.
Bowen didn’t know what to do. He felt unwanted, and ashamed, and stupid, and weak. Nothing helpful at all.
“Bowen—“ Chiz began, but Bowen shook his head. He gestured at Chiz’s wound then tossed him a towel. “Take care of him.”
Bowen left the room, guilt a tight band around his lungs, making it difficult to breathe. He’d really fucked up, and he wasn’t sure he could forgive himself for it.
After cleaning himself up in the kitchen, Bowen put on a pot of coffee, set out some bread and peanut butter, added honey and jelly to the little offering, then he left the house.
Everything that had happened in the past couple of hours seemed surreal, to put it mildly. He wasn’t even certain he was actually awake and functioning at some points while he did his chores. He felt disconnected from himself, off, and he didn’t like himself much at all.
When the moon shone in the sky before the sun even set, his wolf tugged at him. And Bowen got part of his problem then. He’d never hated being a shifter. He’d been lonely, and yeah, confused, but he’d actually been proud of what he was.
Now he wasn’t. If he hadn’t been a shifter, he wouldn’t have turned Chiz. He wouldn’t have scared the puke out of Dare. He wouldn’t be so so
You wouldn’t have them, his wolf snarled, and Bowen snarled right back. “Shut the fuck up!”
“Bowen?”
Bowen spun around, heart pounding. He hadn’t heard Chiz enter the barn at all.
Chiz stood just inside the doorway, gnawing on his bottom lip. He was freshly showered and dressed, and looking so uncertain, it just made Bowen angrier at himself.
He ignored his wolf. That damned thing wasn’t any help at all. Look what I did to Chiz.
“I convinced Dare he didn’t see as bad a bite as he thought he did,” Chiz said, taking a few steps closer. “With the way the bite is healing, by the time he calmed down and got cleaned up, it didn’t look like—“
“Like a wild animal got you,” Bowen said gruffly. “Like I couldn’t control myself again.”
“I begged you,” Chiz argued, rushing forward. He grabbed Bowen’s shirt sleeve. “Don’t you turn away from me, goddamn it!”
Bowen had been doing just that. He stopped and canted his head so he could give Chiz a sideways glare. “So if you begged me to put a bullet through your brain, that’d make it okay if I did it?”
Chiz gasped and let go of him. “That’s not—“
“If you begged me, like you begged me to bite you,” Bowen pressed, not sure why he was doing this, why he was trying to scare Chiz, to make him leave. “What’s the difference, Chiz? What if I bite too deep next time, huh? Puncture an artery? What then?”
Chiz shook his head, but he didn’t speak. His eyes were huge, and the fear Bowen saw there made him feel ill. He turned away, went back to mucking the last stall. “You should go. Take Dare and go. I don’t want either of you here.”
“You don’t mean that,” Chiz said in a shaky voice. “You’re just angry and scared.”
Bowen turned again, roaring as that anger and fear consumed him. “Go!”
Chiz’s features morphed into an angry expression that matched Bowen’s own. “Dare left half an hour ago. Guess you didn’t hear me taking your truck to drop him at his car. You were too busy brooding and feeling sorry for yourself. Well guess what? You need to stop being an asshole. Call me when that happens.”

Chiz pivoted and walked out, never once looking back.