Either way I find it annoying and offensive. I just have to try to understand that some people don’t have the manners that I was raised with. I had to get that out of my system. I’ll drop it now.
On another note I noticed I’m having the jitters, especially in my hands. I was on a high dose of steroids and am now still weaning off them. I am on my last pill today. When I’m in work people notice it. They say to me “Why are your hands shaking so much?” or “You still have the shakes?” Now like I said most of them know I have MS so they assume I’m getting worse. My response is annoyingly repetitive. I’m still weaning off the steroids and it is a side effect but then you always get this look of pity or astonishment. I don’t get mad or stress out about it too much. I just find the lack of manners in this world disturbing and sad. I was raised not to point fingers at people who are disabled, not to make fun of people, and to be polite.
James heard his mother crying down the hall, in the kitchen. There was nothing worse than hearing her cry. For so many years he had tried to protect her from him, allowing himself to be his punching bag, but it didn’t always work. His father never hit her, thankfully, but sometimes words hurt more than physical blows. And the man knew how to make his verbal assaults cut like a knife, right in her most vulnerable places.
His voice was coarse as he moaned, his body sleek and posted above me. His lips found mine again and he kissed me deeply, full of need. I opened my legs, letting him enter me, setting me on ﬁre. I could feel his pressure build fast as I clung onto him and allowed our bodies to glide together in a perfect rhythm. I held him still, deep inside; and watched with bliss as his eyes rolled with pleasure and his back arched pushing deeper inside of me. My nails dug into his back as he pushed in more, never pulling back. Biting into his shoulder, I stiﬂed my screams as I opened further for him allowing him to ﬁll me completely.
My hands clutched at his back while my breathing stalled. Our bodies were slick with sweat as we submitted to our pleasures, both releasing. An intense quiver held our bodies, letting us shudder together. Tenderly draping his body over mine, he kissed me softly, his desires fulﬁlled but the need for me still apparent in his eyes. “I love you, Ember.” The words came so naturally as if his soul were speaking……
Tall and lean, the priest wore sagging robes of white that blurred in the light of the moons. His high, stiff black collar displayed a silver brooch that boasted the symbol of his deity. His face shimmered, and the wind brought the stench of stale sweat from his body. On that current of air came a warm drift, as if the man’s body heated the passing air a degree or two. Sai shifted uncomfortably in the green eyes that shined with a hungry light.
The priest’s hair, ran through with white, had once been black. It was close cropped, and gleamed as if wet. In his arms, he carried a tome, old and bound in black leather, fastened closed with a buckle, its withered pages gray and crumbling. Sai tried to remember if he had ever seen pages of a book gray before, but he could not recall.
Sai noticed a slick, slimy splotch near the priest’s cuff before he pulled his sleeve down and spoke again.
“You are here for what reason, swordsman? Why have you interrupted these sacred proceedings?”
The man’s voice held power, a summoning urge that drew…..
I have snatched Joey from the gates of Heaven and dragged him down to an afterlife of Hell. With my blood running through his veins I have claimed his soul and he is now forever tied to me. It wouldn’t have mattered what blood group Joeys was, my blood can be any type I want it to be, call it another cool family trait. And as I contemplate the enormity of what I have done I cry for the Angel that has fallen and doesn’t even know it.
“How are the donations?” Woden asked, his fingers fumbling through loose bills littering their worktable.
“We almost have enough to pick up the supplies we need,” Manny answered. “Money is flowing in – to fight evil.”
“Good,” Woden answered. “I want to start as soon as possible. Send some men to pick up our religious supplies and load them. I’ve asked for stakes to pierce their hearts and silver bullets.”
“Isn’t that going a bit overboard?” Manny asked.
“I don’t think so,” Woden replied. “The more sensational it is, the more fear it creates. That translates into cold, hard cash for us.”
“I agree with you there,” Manny said. “It’s those skeptics I am worried about. There is already one claiming to know a vampire who isn’t evil.”
“If that person met an untimely end at the fangs of a vampire,” Woden suggested, “it would strengthen our position. Have a team take care of it.” He threw a business card on the table. “We have our own doctor to handle such cases now. While you are at it, best take care of Peters too. He knows too much for his own good. Let news of the deaths leak to all the right sources.”
“I like the way you think,” Manny said. “Makes me proud to serve under your command.”
With my vision restored and my legs somewhat steady, I look to the woman’s voice, and a young beautiful woman stares back at me.
She is radiant, her skin the colour of honey with a slight glow. “I am sorry love. My son has no idea how to treat a lady.” She sends a glare his way. Chris does not look affected or ashamed. In fact, he is smiling.
“Come take a walk with me.” She links her arm through mine before I have the chance to object.
“Mother, I need to take her back.”
“I would love to take a walk with you, Mrs. Michael,” I say sweetly, playing on his annoyance.
“Good. Chris, do whatever it is that you do. I will call for you when I am ready,” she dismisses him.
“I couldn’t bear any explanations, interrogations or farewells in Germany. I didn’t tell a soul that I was leaving. I just booked my flight and counted down the days to the end of the week.
That Friday, I finished up at work as usual and wished everyone a good weekend.
After I had left, I sent an email to the personal department in Deutsche B.A. to explain I wouldn’t be back on Monday. I thanked them but I said I realised I wasn’t ready to go back to work and wouldn’t be back to work in Germany. In the light of everything that happened, I felt that Germany wasn’t meant for me.
That night as Adrian was leaving for an evening shift, my bag was already packed in the room ready to go. I didn’t have the heart to tell even him that I was going home.”