Miscellaneous Stories
Rain A story of obsession, madness and murder...
Sweet Cicely A long story (9000 words) which examines memory, the present and the future...
Bourbon and tears rag This is not an erotic story. It's a very personal piece, which I'd like to share.
Cavalier Marina was disarmingly straight. In truth, she was a bundle of contradictions: shy, yet direct to the point of forwardness, plain-faced but curiously attractive. And I was attracted to her, there was no denying it....
Danse macabre : a Christmas ghost story There was a skeleton sitting in the chair opposite me. Its fingers, long and bony, were stretched easily over the arm of the chair, as though ready to beat a tattoo. It stared at me, its baleful eyes boring into mine, hollow, dark and endless...
The Train part one She had wonderful skin, astonishingly smooth, and I had an overwhelming urge to touch it, stroke it. Her bare forearm appeared almost hairless, just the merest hint of down. Casually, I reached out and flicked my hand across her arm, fingers stretching to kiss her soft flesh....
The Train part two I turned to Gillian, who stood in the doorway, slightly stunned that we should be doing this. Closing the door, I pulled her to me and kissed her lightly. My hands travelled up and down her arms as we exchanged frequent mini-kisses. I drew her jacket from her and laid it on the dressing table. Now my hands could feel her exquisite skin....
Guillaume part one It was my first holiday abroad, three weeks in Monaco taking in the Mediterranean sun, revelling in the exotic sights and sounds and, above all, colours of the Cote d’Azur. I was an excitable girl, 18 or 19, on the look out for adventure and romance....
Guillaume part two “Je t’aime,” I whispered. It’s funny, but it was the first time I had ever said I love you to anyone, and I did it in French. Truly the language of romance. “Je sais. Moi aussi,” he replied, holding my face in his hand, head so close to mine that our noses touched. “Je t’aime, cherie, je t’aime.”....
carlee and harriet at halloween This is a story I have written in partnership with the incomparable carlee, whose website can be found here. It is our attempt at writing a scary halloween story. Hope you enjoy it.... part one : the stagnant air is becoming overwhelming, overpowering, almost horrifying. it is cloying, wrapping itself around us, layer on layer, like old potatoes or tainted beef jerky, like rotten eggs, like decayed flesh... part two : i'm aware of nothing but the ghastly vision bowling towards me, and a sweeping sense of coldness which is overwhelming. the tormented child careers towards me, her one remaining arm extended imploringly... part three : i fetch a pair of latex gloves, the sort surgeons use, and try the best i can to clean up the hideous lump of meat. i try to rub it clean, but it begins to disintegrate and strands of flesh start to come away in my grip... part four : a sick, acid taste is in my mouth, my jaw is clenched hard and my eyes are staring, staring, staring at anything, anything other than what i have just seen. for i have just seen a skull... part five : harriet's eyes light up, and i take her to my bedroom. as she watches intently, i open the closet door and lay our costumes on the bed: a derby hat, black leather body suit, tweed sport jacket with black trousers and a pair of expensive black riding boots... part six : a phosphorescent glow begins to hang around the panther, pulsing menacingly, alternately fading and brightening. i saw this before, in the slaughter house, and with a sickening clarity i know what is happening. weaver morgan appears before us... part seven : an incredible, ear-shattering explosion assails us, knocking us off our feet and sending us head over heels, tumbling into the abyss of uncertainty. gasping, and aware of an ache in my ribs... part eight : the heat from the fire is so intense it feels as though it is melting me, my skin stretching and twisting on my bones. harriet and i watch in horror as the yellow and blue flames scorch into the night sky. the physicality of the fire is terrifying, confirming that our nightmare is real... the conclusion : a hideous, almighty wail rents the air, prolonged and unforgiving. it is one extended shreik of pain which comprises a million moments of despair, and it is the most desolate sound i have ever heard...