Heated Humpday

Do you hate it when the alarm wakes you? I mean, that IS it’s job. However, I seriously hate it when the alarm wakes me. I don’t like be startled for one. I like to be already fully awake when it goes off so I can shut it off without fumbling. Well, the past few mornings, my alarm has awakened me. I am so irked! I’m not sure why my body is so tired. At any rate, I think I’ll listen to it and hobble off to bed to watch CNN until Larry King’s croaky-ass voice puts me into the land of Zzzzzzzz. Before I go, let me entertain you by cranking up the heat…

Yeah, I used Avril Lavigne in the Bar. She’s the physical representation of Kendall Reed. Here’s her intro to the Bar as told by Darrien Ellsworth.

She was so intrigued by the vampire punching the dragon that her fangs were half down. The sight of those fangs had me half out of my seat. Her overall package was hot. She was of medium height with long straight blonde hair that was black underneath. Her body was definitely sizzling. She wore a black pleated school girl skirt with red plaid pleats, a black tank top that barely covered her belly button and didn’t reach the waist of the skirt, black leather cuffs on her wrists, and black Converse high top sneakers. Around her neck were several silver chains and on one hung a huge black star. She looked good enough to bite.

I made my way over to the VIP bar where she’d taken up residence at one end. She’d come in with four guys, but they’d all disappeared. As I walked toward her, I decided she looked sort of familiar, but I just couldn’t place where I would have seen her before. I bellied up to the bar next to her and asked the female bartender for a Vampire’s Revenge. The bartender cocked an eyebrow at me in a sarcastic way, but started making the drink.

“Not very subtle are you?”

The husky voice was that of the woman I’d been checking out. I turned toward her with a little smile quirking my lips. “I can be, but what’s the point most of the time?” I told her.

A laugh escaped her. “Subtlety isn’t my strong suit either,” she admitted.

When she spoke, I could see those fangs, and I suppressed a shiver of lust. Her blue eyes gleamed. I could swear she knew how I felt. “Your accent, it’s Welsh, isn’t it?” I asked her as I took my drink from the bartender and paid.

My blonde nodded and tilted her chin toward me. “Yours is pure boarding school English,” she replied. “Like Prince William or something.”

I shrugged. “I went to Eton,” I admitted, not telling her that I’d gone to Eton in 1805 and not with the current Prince William.

She took a swallow of her ale and then licked her lips. My eyes were drawn to the movement of her tongue, and she chuckled. “Not with Wills, I’d bet,” she said catching me out. “How old are you?”

“Two hundred seventeen. I was born in 1790.” I didn’t mind telling her the truth. There was nothing to be gained by lying.

“So old,” she laughed huskily. “I’m the same age as Rune. I was born in 1954.”

“I’m not old. I’m considered very young for a vampire.” I jerked my head toward my table where Sebastian sat. “My brother’s a hundred years older than me.”

The blonde looked over at my brother and pursed her lips then her eyes returned to mine. “I’m Kendall,” she said holding out one hand with short black painted nails.

I shook her hand, ignoring the frisson of awareness that went through me when our skin touched. “I’m Darrien Ellsworth.” She smiled at me again and the sight of those fangs just rocked me. Then it dawned on me where I’d seen her before. Her name had given it away. It had been on a poster advertising a club in London. She was a singer. Kendall Reed.

“You’re a singer,” I said, wondering how she was going to react to me recognizing her.

She stiffened, and I realized that recognizing her was not going to be a good thing. “Yes,” she said curtly and knocked back the rest of her ale, setting the tall glass on the bar. “Excuse me. I’ve got to find my guys.”

“Your band?” I asked her curiously. She flashed me the coldest look I’d ever gotten from a woman.

“Yes.” Her reply was tight and angry. I didn’t understand what I’d done wrong but she’d gone from warm and amusing to an ice cold bitch in the blink of an eye.

She started to walk away, and I caught her arm in my hand. “Wait a second, Kendall,” I said in a carefully neutral voice, hoping to soothe her. It didn’t work. She turned on me with a hiss and a flash of fully dropped fangs.

“Don’t touch me.” She jerked her arm from my grasp. “Men like you are NOT my type. You fucking suck.”

Yeah, she’s a bitchy one alright. Heh. Her story will be told as soon as some other storylines wrap up.

Next, I dug into the archives to give you a piece of Lex Valentine Kohl’s past. This is Chris Evans, who is the physical representation of Johann Kohl, Shinygal’s character. At one point, Lex and Johann sorta had a thing going before she met his cousin Alaric and fell in love. Here’s a taste of Lex with someone other than Alaric.

No one understood me. They all thought I was megabitch Lex, cold and unfeeling. Only Carlisle and Dominic had any clue how much I longed to have my life back, to feel close to someone and feel loved again. No one understood how the real me wept brokenheartedly behind the facade of the cold bitch.

Despair rose within me. I fought it, but I was too weak, and it overwhelmed me. I began to sob as everything I longed for, and everything I felt, became too much for me to bear. I rolled across the bed, reaching for a pillow, but got tangled in the sheet and fell to the floor. I scooted back into the corner that was made by the wall and the side of the bed. I drew my knees up and pressed my face to them as I tried to stem the tide of uncontrollable sobbing that welled up from deep within me.

A muffled curse came from the bathroom door and, even in the depths of my despair, over the sound of my sobs, I felt Johann’s presence standing over me. “Holy Mother, what’s wrong, Lex?” I heard him move. Then I felt the warmth of his body next to me on the floor.

“Go away,” I told him, not lifting my face from my knees.

“No,” he insisted. “I can’t leave you when you’re this upset.”

I cried harder, my whole body shaking with it. I wrapped my arms around my updrawn knees, hugging myself. I couldn’t bear to have him see me like this. I couldn’t bear for anyone to witness this, but most especially Johann. I felt his fingers brush the bare skin of my arm. I jerked my head up from my knees, baring my fangs at him, my eyes feral with pain. “Go the fuck away, Johann!” I snarled, snapping at him with my fangs.

“Not a chance,” he said grimly, his steel blue eyes determined.

My heart sank as I realized the wild anger in me wasn’t going to scare him away. I dropped my face back onto my knees and moaned, begging him, “Please, Johann. Please, please just go away. I can’t bear this.”

I felt his fingers burrow beneath my hair and then between my chin and my knees. He lifted my head and pulled it toward him so that our eyes met, his serious and concerned, mine crazed with pain. He gazed deeply into my red rimmed, tear swollen eyes, and I knew he saw the soulless despair that I couldn’t hide. I’d seen myself in a mirror before when I’d been like this. The loss of my soul made my eyes look like two gaping holes swirling with unfathomable pain and despair. It was horrifying and ugly.

After staring into my eyes for a long moment, a small sound escaped Johann. He reached out and gathered me into his arms, dragging me onto his lap as he sat on the floor. His thighs in the soft sweats were hard beneath me. I could feel the tensile strength in his bare arms as they curved around me, his hands stroking soothingly over my naked shoulder blades. I sat stiffly for a moment, the tears and sobs still racking my body, but as his hands pressed against my spine, I let the pressure move me into the curve of his warm body. Suddenly, I wrapped my arms around his rib cage, and with my face pressed to his hard naked chest, I let go. The pain filled sobs tore through me violently, but his body absorbed the hard quakes and shudders as he held me tightly, soothingly.

As my sobs lessened, I felt Johann’s hands in my hair. “Tell me,” he whispered.

I lifted my head for a moment and looked at him. His pain was there in his blue eyes, not hidden as it usually was. I saw his own despair at being left without his bloodmate, and I knew he had discerned what was wrong with me. I was a mess. My hair a wild froth, sticking to my wet face. My eyes were swollen and my skin blotchy from the rage of tears. Certainly, I was not in the least desirable, but in those few seconds of recognition of a mutual pain, he looked at me with an incredible wealth of sorrow, desire, and the indescribable need to be with someone who understood what rippled beneath the surface of the faces we showed the world.

“I saw the story in the paper about you losing your bloodmate,” I said in a hoarse whisper. “They made it sound like it had never happened before.”

“But it did. It happened to you,” he said in a low tone.

A tender moment from Johann, who later turns into a raging asshole after he and Lex break up. Still, Chris Evans is a hottie, as is Avril Lavigne. We tend to choose some really good looking people for the Bar. It’s easier to write the characters when you want to lick them yourself. Hee hee.

Hope you enjoyed the heat. I’ll be back tomorrow, but I have no clue what I will be posting. Ooooh! Don’t you love a mystery? MUAH, peoples!


Today’s tune is a song I really like. I’m a fan of Dave Navarro’s music and there’s just something really evocative about this song. I’ve been busy working on some writing pieces so I haven’t been around to blogs quite as much as usual. I’ll catch up in a couple of days, I promise. I’m still working on why I can’t access Fab’s site too. Must be some kind of voodoo hex or something because I can’t find a tech reason why it times out when I visit or ping his site.

For those of you who like little excerpts of my writing, here’s a recent post from the Bar. It starts out with sex and ends with fear… panic really, which fits the song. Nice little touch, I thought. Oh, and one last note before you read, an Am fear-faire is a sort of mystical, immortal guardian.

“Oh, fuck. Oh, baby,” Valerian moaned as he thrust into me.

I pushed my hips back as he thrust into me. “Damn it, Val! We can’t show up at your brother’s wedding reeking of sex,” I panted.

“You’ll put your hands in the sink and magic the smell away,” he groaned, pushing his cock into me harder.

I gripped the edge of the sink and fought to keep my eyes open as pleasure washed through me. “I don’t know if I can make the smell of sex go away with my powers,” I replied through gritted teeth. Stringing words together so that they made sense was getting more difficult as the sex progressed and I drew closer to orgasm. “And I know I can’t do anything about your wrinkled trousers,” I muttered.

“Shut up, Nyx. Stop talking and just fuck me,” Valerian growled. He shoved the top of my dress down and fondled my breasts with one hand. His other hand was between my thighs, teasing my clit.

I turned my head, seeking his mouth. He kissed me hard, his breathing totally out of control, his face flushed. I felt the heat in him rising and knew he was about to feed me his fire. My tongue twisted around his as the heat of his fire rushed through my veins, kicking my arousal up a notch. My knees began to shake as my orgasm hit me. The feel of Valerian’s cock within me, the cold marble of the counter beneath my fingers, Valerian’s hard chest pressing against my back and the wet heat of his tongue twisted around mine while the remnants of his fire still bubbled in my veins, made my orgasm burst inside me like fireworks. I felt Valerian coming too, the wet gush of his seed triggering another orgasm in me.

The sex was awesome. The aftermath was horrid. I had to be careful not to get anything on my dress. I had to clean up and look for my panties. I had to struggle into the panties and adjust my garter belt. Then I had to check my makeup and fix my hair. Fixing Valerian was rough. His pants were creased and I had to steam them while he was wearing them to get the wrinkles out.

“Ow! The steam is hot!” he complained as the steamer jetted out clouds and filled the bathroom.

“Suck it up, Val,” I warned him. “You’re a dragon. Heat doesn’t bother you.”

Valerian sighed heavily and let me finish. Once we were returned to our pristine pre-sex pre-wedding neatness, I sprayed myself with cologne and spritzed Val with his cologne. He frowned at me. “Nyx, go easy with that stuff,” he muttered with a cough.

I looked at the time. “Shit. Shit! Go get the car! We’re gonna be late!”

Valerian hitched up his sleeve and looked at his watch. “Damn. I’ll meet you at the front door,” he said, turning toward the bedroom. “Hurry!”

When Valerian had gone I went looking for my purse. I stuffed my Treo into it and turned toward the door when a voice stopped me.

“So affectionate,” Macaire said smoothly. “Stop talking and just fuck me. How romantic!”

Anger shot through me. “Get out, Macaire,” I said in a low tone.

Macaire frowned at me. “Now what kind of welcome is that for a relative?” he replied, his smile as cold as the North Sea.

I stopped myself from blinking in surprise. “You’re not my relative.” I kept my tone even and didn’t give away the fact that I had no clue what he was talking about.

He shook his blonde head and took off his wrap around sunglasses. “You think not? Best consult your Am fear-faire, my dear. Alfred knows more about your heritage than you do. Another reason why you are such a poor candidate to be the McClaren,” he murmured as he strolled around me.

I twisted, keeping him in sight at all times, wondering how much of my power was left from my shower. Macaire was playing some kind of game and I was very much afraid it was a deadly game. “I’m no candidate to be the McClaren. I AM the McClaren. There is no one else left in my line,” I gritted out, trying to get my anger under control.

“So you say, Nyx.” Macaire stopped by the French doors. He waved a hand and they opened. “You’d best speak to Alfred, and soon. He’s quite old, you know. Something could easily… happen to him.”

With a sharky grin, Macaire stepped through the French doors. They swished closed. I ran to them, but by the time I reached them, he was gone. Now, anger and fear warred within me. Macaire’s threats were barely veiled this time, and the clues he’d dropped had me scrambling for my phone. Then I saw the time and cursed.

I grabbed my purse and ran for the front of the chateau. As much as I didn’t want to have this conversation with Alfred in front of Valerian, now I was stuck. I was sure that bastard Macaire knew this too. He’d planned it all this way. Whatever the hell was going on with him, Alfred knew something about it. And calling Alfred in front of Val meant that now Val would know what it was too.

I ran out the front door of the chateau and jumped into the front seat of the Jaguar that Valerian was driving. As he raced down the drive, I stared at the Ogham rings. They were glowing faintly.

“What the fuck took you so long?” Valerian grumbled.

I reached into my purse and pulled out my phone. I hit the speed dial for my penthouse. “Business, Val. Really serious business,” I said.

My tone must have alerted him that something was wrong. He shot me a glance that was filled with worry. Then Alfred picked up.

“How the hell does Macaire know that you are my Am fear-faire?” I bit out, my voice shaking with anger.

On the other end of the phone, Alfred sighed. “I was afraid of this.”

“Afraid of what?” I almost yelled into the phone.

Valerian’s hands tightened on the wheel. “Nyx? What’s wrong?” he asked urgently.

I looked at him and said, “I don’t know Val. I just don’t know.”

Have a great Tuesday!

Tuesday Liz

I found out last week that Mr. Fabulous lurrrrrrves Liz Phair. So tomorrow for Humpday Hotness, I will show you Liz’s nipples. Someone make sure Fab has smelling salts. Since this coming Sunday I will be Fab’s guest on Pointless Drivel Live, where he will surely kick my ass at Dead or Alive, my Tuesday Tune features Liz too. I just cannot pander to the man enough. I’ve been trying to get him over to my guilty pleasure The User Pool too. I can just imagine the conversations we will have once he too is reading this little gem of satire. Heh.

My Tuesday Tune by Liz Phair was used in the Bar Story because Liz is the physical representation of Carlisle Ross. To go with this song is a snippet from the Bar where I used the song. Although Alaric and Lex have shared dreams where they were much more intimate, this is their first real kiss.

I turned around and opened my mouth to ask Stein a question and found that he’d gone upstairs after Carlisle. That left me alone with Alaric. Shit. He was walking toward me, his electric blue eyes on me. I swallowed hard and felt my stomach drop as my breathing grew more rapid. My senses were on overload. When I looked at him, I felt my heart stop. When I smelled him. I felt my breath stop. When he touched me, I felt like I was going to come out of my skin. I had no idea what was going on. The dreams and visions…they were so real. I stared up at Alaric, wondering how I could have dreamed him. Even now, I could feel his lips on the curve of my spine. It was all I could do not to throw myself in his arms and beg him to love me. I didn’t know what the hell had gotten into me.

I turned on my heel and went up the stairs to the second floor of the penthouse. I heard and felt Alaric following me. I turned left at the top of the stairs and opened the last door. “This is your room,” I told him as I stepped into the room, pointing out the other doors. “That door is to the bathroom, which you share with me. The other door is to the sitting room, which you also share with me. The glass door is to the terrace.”

“Do I share that with you too?” he asked in that honey over gravel voice, one eyebrow raised inquiringly.

I nodded absently, wondering briefly if he was being facetious. “Dial 9 for an outside line, 0 for the front desk, and 1 for the butler,” I said and left him there, high tailing it to my own room.

Once there, I let out a long breath. This was incredibly hard. I should have been crying my eyes out over Johann, but suddenly I could barely think of him. Alaric overwhelmed my senses and brought every dream I’d had of him right to the front of my consciousness. He wasn’t like his cousin. He was … more. Taller, broader, darker, more handsome, more chiseled, more brooding, more … enticing … more sexy … more… hot.

I ran my tongue over my dry lips. What did I say to this man? Oh, by the way, I have the most incredible dreams about loving you. Or maybe, hey Alaric, I love how you look naked in my dreams. I ran a hand over my face. I was losing it.

Just then, there was a knock on my bedroom door. I opened it to find the subject of my thoughts standing there. He’d taken off his jacket and shoes and was standing there barefoot in his blue shirt and black slacks looking suave and so gorgeous. I was acutely aware of my disheveled hair, rumpled t-shirt and faded jeans. And worst of all, I had to look far too high up to meet his eyes.

“My suitcase,” he said in a low tone. “Is it in here?”

I looked at the pile of luggage and spied a large case that wasn’t mine. I reached for it at the same time as Alaric and my head bumped his. We both said, “Ow!” and stepped back. I stayed put in front of the doorway while Alaric untangled his bag from the others. Then he stopped and I heard it…Carlisle was singing.

Lucky I’ve been through hell
Backroads and shortcuts I know them well
Baby just stick with me
We’ll make it together, just wait and see

Do you really know me at all?
Would you take the time to catch me if I fall?
Are you ever gonna be that real to me?
Everything to me

The walls they close in
The air it goes out
We’re left with nothing but a shadow of doubt
Nobody talks, no one is here
It’s just you and me

Do you really know me at all?
Would you take the time to catch me if I fall?
Are you ever gonna be that real to me?
Everything to me

I found myself staring at Alaric while Carlisle’s beautiful voice rang out through the penthouse. I suddenly wished with all my heart that Alaric would love me. That he would feel, say, and do everything that had happened in my dreams. I knew instinctively that if he loved me, he would be just as he was in the dreams. He would love me the way my heart yearned for. He was a stranger to me except for what I knew of him from my dreams… what my heart knew.

Carlisle stopped singing, and I blinked back a rush of tears as Alaric turned away from my gaze. He stepped toward the door and I sidestepped to the left to let him out. But then, he stepped to his right, leaving us blocking each other again. He moved again, but this time I didn’t and he banged into me, almost knocking me to the floor. Anger at my helplessness to have any control over my life flooded me.

“Bloody hell, Kohl! You’re freaking everywhere! I can’t get away from you. You even invade my fucking dreams!” My voice was hoarse and overflowing with emotion. I jerked away from the doorway.

His arms snapped out, dropping the suitcase as he grabbed me by the shoulders growling, “What did you say? Did you say dreams? Cause I’m so tired of waking up hard, after spending my dreams with you.”

I stared at him stunned, my lips parted in shock. “What the hell?” I whispered. He had them too! What the hell was happening to us?

“Ah, fuck me,” Alaric muttered. He jerked me toward him, his head coming down as his mouth found mine. Electricity crackled between us as our lips met. The most exquisite pleasure I had ever felt seared its way through my body. Alaric must have been feeling something profound too because he moaned against my lips and ran his hands down my back to grab my ass, lifting me off the ground as his tongue swept into my mouth.

The touch of his wet tongue to mine was like a match to dry brush. I went up in flames as my dreams came to life. I wrapped my arms around his neck and thrust my fingers into his dark silky hair. He kissed me so deeply that if I’d had a soul, he would have touched it. I was drowning in sensation and then…I was on my feet staring wide eyed at Alaric whose chest was rising and falling rapidly with his jackhammer breathing.

“We need to talk,” he said breathlessly, his electric blue eyes boring into mine. “Not right now, but later. I want to know about your dreams.”

“What does it mean?” I whispered, suddenly frightened.

He must have known what I was feeling because he reached out a hand and tucked my hair behind my ear. “Don’t be afraid, Alexandria. We’ll figure it out,” he said softly in that honey over gravel voice. Then he turned and picked up his case, leaving the room. There was a soft click as the door closed behind him.

I reached into my jeans pocket and pulled out the handkerchief he’d given me, pressing it to my flushed cheek. I could smell his lemon bergamot scent on the cloth. I closed my eyes. Why would Alaric Kohl and I share the same dreams? What could it possibly mean?

Wishing everyone a pretty princess Tuesday!

Hump This

Happy belated birthday to Jason X from the User Pool. Remind me to give you a link to my private naked Kelly Monaco slideshow! If you readers don’t know Jason, you need to check him out. His blog is very funny. The satire is incomparable! I shoulda known he was a Taurus…

Speaking of birthdays, Friday is Motley’s birthday. She has a fistful of Knotts Berry Farm tickets and no ride. Apparently, Motley’s bestie went to the doctor today. He told her she has anxiety and gave her drugs. Now she can’t go to Knotts for fear of getting too excited. Hmmph. There’s one kid who won’t be having sex anytime soon. Everyone stop by Socially Dead on Friday and help make Motley feel better about being 19 and not having a ride to Knotts. Hmmmn. Maybe Jason needs a day off from the User Pool and could go…

Alright, here’s something you can all sink your fangs into this Wednesday. Bite it, taste it, hump it until it’s wet and limp! THAT is Keeley Hazell. I wonder if I coulda gotten away with showing her boobage. Aw fuckit. Go here to see her tits.

If boobage ain’t your thang, I give you Nacho Figueras. Polo star extraordinaire. The face of Polo Black cologne. And now, the face of Mr. Fabulous, a darkly mysterious character in the Bar Story.

Mr. Fabulous has already had his entrance in the story, but it was fleeting. He comes to the Library, where the Blood Mistress reigns over the annals of the vampire world, and basically has her bowing and scraping and kicking out the other people in the Library. They get a glimpse of him and that’s it. The Blood Mistress’s first post features this mysterious Fabulous. He’s devious. He’s powerful. He’s handsome. He probably has a big dick too. Why else would he be so arrogant? Hee hee. His storyline is still in the works so there could be some major twists and turns ahead.

Before I sign off today, I want to talk hardcore with you. Yes. My 100th post is very close. And yes. I have noticed something about the comments on the 90+ posts thus far. One, you people like sex. If I post sex stuff from the Bar, you are all here slathering over it and drooling in the comments. Two, you people like freaky. If I post about cemetery stuff you are all fascinated in that rubber necking at a gruesome accident where a motorcyclist was decapitated on the freeway way. Lots of comments on the sex and the cemetery. Oooh. Now, that’s a catchy title!

I don’t know that you like hotness. You don’t comment on Wednesday hotness. So what’s wrong with this picture? You like sex. You like the cemetery. You don’t like the half naked celebs? I bet Dave didn’t even notice when I had Liz Hurley naked on here. I don’t think anyone did. Not that her tatas were hanging out anyway. It woulda been a MUCH better Humpday with naked Liz tits. Although, come to think of it, I do have naked Liz tits… Liz Phair. Maybe I will post those next week.

So what is it that you like? Sex? Freaky stuff? Freaky sex maybe? I’ll have to work on that last one. Not sure how to work it into this blog theme. If you like freaky sex you shoulda read my Pink Chair Diaries post. It was a little freaky and a lot hot. I’m not asking for comments. I’m just trying to get a handle on what you all like so I can accommodate you in the next 100 posts. After all, we can’t all be fucking Fabulous… although you know you want to.

See yas manana for a Half Nekkid Thursday and maybe even a Thursday Thirteen too!

Too Many Shuns

I gotta talk about the Bar today. The reason for this is that I’m looking for inspiration. Or motivation. Not sure which. It’s funny how those two things can become interchangeable. And actually, I think my problem is distraction, not inspiration or motivation. Too many “shun” words for a Saturday morning, I think. My head’s already buzzing and I haven’t even had a glass of water yet.

Distraction is in the form of the lovely pre-paid card that I use on the internet. It’s not attached to my bank accounts so I feel a lot better about using it online. I went to albertsons.com last night and did my grocery shopping for the next two weeks. $97 later, I’m ready to check out. Card declined. WHAT? You fuckers, it’s freaking PAYDAY. No way is my card declined. Then I think, shit… new girl doing payroll. She coulda effed up anything. I call the automated system. “Account balance $513.76. There are no pending deposits or transactions at this time.”

Now, I’m really going WTF? I try to get a live person. Instead, I get the “If you need to speak to a live customer service representative, please call back between our normal business hours of 9 am to 5 pm Pacific time, Monday thru Friday.” I’m really stewing now. All the stuff I planned to do this weekend has now been fucked up. For some reason, even though there is plenty of money on the card, whatever I try to do gives back a “declined”. Grrrrr.

I had to call the cable company and tell them I will WALK a payment in. The girl at Time Warner was very helpful and sympathetic. She said if I didn’t really feel like walking the payment in, she would just give me an extension so I could call in the payment once the card issue was resolved. Why couldn’t the card company be this easy and assessable? All the bills were pretty accommodating. Apparently, this is a common card problem so all the companies I was going to pay were willing to wait a few days for payment until the situation was cleared up. That was great! Except for my groceries.

I’m sitting here with my stomach growling and my brain set on Grrrr because I can’t get my groceries delivered. I have food. I bought $176 bucks worth 2 weeks ago and then ate out most of last week. My cupboards are pretty full. It’s the principle though. I give you my freaking money and pay 50 cents a transaction PLUS $5 a month to use this card online. The least they could do is let me use it when there’s clearly a bunch of money on it!

Okay, enough about my distract-SHUN. On to my motiva-SHUN. I wanna write. I’m trying to put myself into writing mode because I do have stuff I need – want – to crank out. However, I think the distraction has affected my motivation. My annoyance level is high and my mind isn’t on Griffin the way it should be when I’m about to start a post about him getting ready to attend his newfound sister’s wedding. So maybe my motivation isn’t quite where it should be yet. If I write Griffin now, will he be all pissy and angry? Will that be a waste of my writing time if I have to edit the whole freaking thing to change how he sounds?

This brings me to inspira-SHUN. Griffin is a complex character. He has a lot of twisted things happening in his life. He’s supposed to be on edge and nervous, faced with a situation where he clearly wants to be accepted, but he’s feeling apprehensive and cautious because his newfound brother thinks he’s a monster. He’s going to need some hand holding to make it through this event, so he’s looking to his best friend since childhood to attend with him. He’s also going to wonder what his new family will think if he brings a man to the wedding. Of course, he knows that there is a simple explanation for why he’s bringing Roman. Roman is not only his best friend, he’s his business partner. When Griffin went to Paris to meet his long lost family, Roman accompanied him. Griffin does know other people in Paris – females – but his new family doesn’t know that. They do know he arrived with his business partner so maybe they won’t question the fact that he’s shown up with a man at an event where everyone has a date.

Hmmn. I’m starting to feel the pull. The annoyance is receding and my characters are calling me. if I make myself some food will I lose the little bit of headway I’ve made toward recapturing my groove? Or will the growling and pain in my empty gut be yet another distract-SHUN?

BANG! CRASH! THUMP! I think the decision was just made for me. I’m now looking at two very guilty orange faces. Something has gone down in the living room. The Feral Brothers are looking at me like they are in trouble. If I haul my ass up to check it out, I might as well make breakfast. So, I’m off to clear away the disaster – or call Motley to – and make some chow. Hopefully, when I return to this computer the twats won’t keep me from getting into Griffin’s head and turning out his post about his sister’s wedding.

Wish me luck.