Devil’s Descent II: impure update 7-17-10

Estimated reading time: 3 – 4 minutes

“She is undoubtedly incarnation of the word defined.”

Rachel inhaled deeply before calling his name. “Lord Douglas?”

“Yes, Mrs. Walker?”

“I mean what I said. I will do my best to keep from interfering with you two as long as Lily isn’t forced into anything she doesn’t want to do.”

“I understand.”

“All I ask is that you keep her from getting pregnant.”

Julian was far beyond the ability to blush. He had spent many a conversation with forthright mothers in his time before Ian. He also didn’t doubt this was the source of Lily’s bluntness.

“I will not impregnate your daughter, Mrs. Walker. You have my word.”

“Good. I would hate for her to go the way of her grandmother and father.”

“Oh?” Julian had the good manners not to press but was indeed curious to hear the details. Lily never shared much with Ian in regards to her family.

“Dahlia wasn’t supposed to get pregnant by Stephan’s father. Nephilim debated on whether to put her and her unborn child to death.”

“Lily’s grandfather is very powerful to have kept that from happening.”

“He is.”

“May I ask who her grandfather is?”


Julian cocked his head in faint surprise. “Indeed.”

“Yes. Perhaps then you can understand Lily’s…” Rachel glanced at her sleeping daughter, as if she expected to see the correct word floating above her head.”


“Yes. Vehemence. Perhaps you can understand Lily’s vehemence over why she lost you. Of course, not you as you are now but as you were. Righteous anger at love’s rejection is ingrained in her blood.”

“I can see that now. I consider myself most lucky Anteros cannot strike me down—especially in how I conducted myself with Lily recently.”

“Yes, you are very lucky.”

“Thank you for taking me in your confidence, Mrs. Walker.”

“You’re welcome.”

Julian bowed low. “If you don’t mind, I will be taking my leave of you both.”

“Of course. Let me show you to the door.”

“Please don’t inconvenience yourself. I can see myself out.”

“Very well. Good night, Lord Douglas.”

“Good night, Mrs. Walker.”

“Oh, Lord Douglas?”

“I take it you have Lily’s dress?”


“Please return it back as quickly as you can. It belonged to Lily’s grandmother and it’s one of her favorites.”

“Consider it done.” Julian bowed again. He walked out of the room and quickly made his way outside. Once settled in his car, Julian’s busy mind sifted through the night’s events. He wondered if he had misstepped in regards to courting Lily.

No. I didn’t. I need to be close to her again. It’s the only way to take what’s mine—her life.

Julian regarded the seat next to him. Lily’s scent lay heavy over the leather. He had to admit it was pleasing. He also had to admit much of the night was very pleasing.

I ended up fucking you, Lily. I fucked you over. We’ll see just how much farther I can do this before I send you to the bottom of that lake.

He smiled.


Did you know Devil’s Descent I: purgatory is out on Amazon? Show your love and buy it now!

Suicide Doll update 6-30-10

Estimated reading time: 3 – 5 minutes

Violation had a way with them both. Making love, fucking, raping—it all meant the same thing. Barely distinguishable acts meant to raise them both out of their ennui. To think of sex in this way proved he was broken and always had been. The Broker was right.

He should’ve been drowned at birth.

Narcissus continued practiced seduction for a spiteful audience of one. He dipped his cock inside her for a moment before moving upwards. His turgid head circled the tiny piece of flesh, willing it to swell and bloom for him. Narcissus carried on for minutes, losing himself in the pain created by denial.

His mind flashed violently. It recycled through the memories of Lisette and Chessie. Diana appeared as well.

Warmth without lust unfurled inside him. Diana’s counsel had sustained him in the decades after Lisette’s suicide. She was the only woman he could say he cared for without the need of carnal knowledge.

You never tried to stop me from this folly. You understood I could never be swayed any more than I could sway you to stop whoring. It was vital to us both. You tried to tell me to open myself to this terrible, disgusting pain. You swore I would be better for it.

Why did you lie to me, Diana?

Bits of time, moments with and without significance, continued to spin inside his mind.

Lisette was his treasure, one he shared with any and everyone. Chessie was his delight, one he displayed as an ornament on his wall. Sophie was his conscience, one he never acknowledged until the damage was done.

And now I’m going to destroy Chessie for Sophie. I would’ve done it anyways. I just needed the right kind of push.

Narcissus wondered what his insides looked like. Were they blackened like his intentions?

He surged forward. Chessie’s cunt swallowed him whole. He wished he could’ve disappeared then. Narcissus kissed her mouth, tasting his memories forever. Knowing it was all he could ever hope for now that he’d become entrapped in his own uselessness.

He slid his hands up her arms, pushing them up over her head. His fingers entwined hers. His hips rocked against Chessie’s. He remained silent. His vocal cords symbolically severed in echo of hers.

Pleasure without substance. Ecstasy in emptiness. Tiny mimicries of a life never spent well.

Narcissus wondered if his mother had suffered like this. He had spent his entire existence without much thought to the woman who had given birth to him before fading away. Now he couldn’t help but feel kinship to Echo. Had she fallen so completely in love with his father she couldn’t see any way to exist without him?

Am I really my father’s image? Or my mother’s shadow? I can’t help but love her knowing…feeling…this. We are the same, Echo. I’m only sorry that I never thought of you more often.

Narcissus pressed his mouth against Chessie’s. He opened his eyes and saw Sophie staring at him.

“Does it feel good? Does it make you feel anything at all?”

“I don’t know.” His hips continued their meaningless dance. “I don’t think so.”

Her lips carried a secret promise. She moved behind him and whispered in his ear. “I like the way you make love, Narcissus. It’s so beautiful.”

Narcissus stiffened. The words were wrong. There was nothing of beauty in what he was doing to the Chessie doll.

“You strangle my hate, Narcissus, when you think of someone other than yourself.” Sophie kissed his lobe. “When you think of me.”

Narcissus wrenched out of the dead girl. He stumbled back until he hit the wall. Tools scattered and tables overturned. Entangled in hopeless sanity, Narcissus raised his arms in entreaty. Face the color of stone, eyes dilated until they became blackened holes in his head, mouth agape, Narcissus wanted to die right then and there.


This is the last public update for Suicide Doll. I hope you’ve all enjoyed the overload of angst. :) Originally I intended for Suicide Doll to be a full-length novel. However, the story demanded something else. I will be releasing it soon as a 20k-22k short story.

I’ve already got another WIP ready to take Suicide Doll’s place so please be on the lookout.

Devil’s Descent II update 3-26-10

Estimated reading time: 4 – 6 minutes

Julian crossed his leg. The elegant movement brought Lily a bit closer. “You live here, closed off from the world. You can’t leave without permission. Unlike Lily, you chose to live this life. Why?”

“I loved her father.”


Rachel kept her stare even with his. “There is no why.”

“Pardon me if my nature seems disagreeable, but there is always a why. What’s yours?”

She blew a long breath before smiling. “He was the most magnificent man I have ever known. I never knew how…strong…love could be until I knew Stephan. He became everything to me. Without him…there was no point in anything else. So when he offered me this life I took it. I took it and never looked back.”

“Even though he’s abandoned you both, you still love him.”

“Julian!” Lily’s cry curled his lip like an overly-pleased cat. She had forgotten to stick to his surname in her indignation. Julian liked it.

“It’s okay, Lily. Really it is.” Rachel flashed her daughter a sweet smile. “Lord Douglas, you see that darling girl next to you? How can I ever regret one day of my life with her by my side?”

Julian turned his head. He appraised Lily in a manner lacking lecherous intent. “She’s brought you much joy, hasn’t she?”

“More than you can ever know.”

He studied the young girl next to him. His memories tumbled over one another. Flashes of insignificance. Intolerable adoration overlapping diseased frustration. There was a time when he had suffered joy knowing Lily.

It’s not enough. Having you by my side is not enough for a man like me. How can I ever forgive you for not seeing that in me even then? You think you loved me but you never thought to peel back my layers. You never gave anything beneath the surface consideration. It didn’t exist to you. I never existed. You bought the lie, Lily. You selfish bitch.

“Mrs. Walker.”

“Yes, Lord Douglas?”

“You know how all this is going to end, of course?”

Rachel’s color remained high. She nodded her head slightly.

“No matter how much you wish it otherwise, no matter how much time passes or doesn’t, no matter what Lily does or doesn’t do, it all is going to end the same. She’s going into that lake.”

Lily marbleized. Her irrefutable ending, splaying out like a skinned carcass for all to consume, made her feel inhuman. Insignificant. Just a statue in a room to be looked at, dissected without drawing blood. To be tolerated.

“I know that.” Rachel’s face rippled. Misery, rage, and hopelessness made her voice trembled as she repeated the words.

“I want to be there.”

The words fell like a stone on glass. It skittered between them, noise masking the crack it left behind.

Lily wiggled her hand. Julian crushed it, relieving the pressure only when she stopped.

“You want to be there. As in cause or relief?”

“I err towards relief, Mrs. Walker.”

Rachel’s mouth compressed upon itself. She looked very young suddenly. Her eyes, bright as the sky by nature, dimmed. She looked lost, flattened by events beyond her control. Lily wanted to speak, to say something outrageous, daring, and idiotic. Better anger and a tongue-lashing rather than the misery her mother suffered now.

“I agree.” Rachel straightened in her chair. Small hands folded upon one another, reflecting the union of her sadness and dignity. “You may see Lily. If she wants it. I trust you to do nothing she doesn’t want, Lord Douglas.”

“You have my word Lily will only end up doing what she wants. Nothing less. Nothing more.”

“I see you’re very careful with your words.”

“I am deliberate.”

“Then we are in accordance.” Rachel stood up. Julian was already on his feet before she had completely slid out of the chair. Lily was up by proxy of his hold. Rachel noted his possession with a raised brow.

Julian released Lily’s hand. It slid away from her, warmed by keeping such close contact. He bowed deeply. “I appreciate your consideration, Mrs. Walker. My memories of you are most deserved.”

Rachel smiled. She looked much like her daughter in that moment that Julian smiled in return. His reflex borne free from preconceived intent. Genuine in a way that made Lily’s heart stutter. He looked so much like the man she knew once before. Lily turned away.

“I’ll be upstairs. Thank you so much for coming by to see me, Lord Douglas.”

“Completely my pleasure, Mrs. Walker.”


“Yes, Mama?”

“Do see Lord Douglas out when he’s ready.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Trunk–Part I Update 1-20-10

Estimated reading time: 3 – 5 minutes

Exactly twelve miles passed before he turned off the road. Shrouded with overgrown shrubs and knee-high grass, the pitted drive was easy to miss unless one knew to look for it. There wasn’t even a mailbox to give nod to societal integration. Nor would there be one any time soon.

Ashley, his current fiancée, had no idea this 10.33 acre spread existed. He had purchased it, in cash, shortly after she moved all of her feminine belongings into his townhome. Every piece of fabric, furniture, and accessories matched thread for thread in a harmonious palette of ice-blues, antique lace ivory, and goldenrod yellow.

The décor choice seemed to be an interior decorator’s homage to her beautiful coloring. It seemed impossible to see the heavy silk drapes, exquisitely embroidered throw pillows, or delicate side tables adorned with photos of his smiling face shoved against hers, and not think of Ashley LaVigne. Sometimes he wondered if the design decisions had been calculated.

Ashley, the epitome of a southern belle, came from a warm and educated family, graduated from Emory University as befitted from two brilliant minds, worshipped at her grandmother’s church every Sunday, and apparently loved him more than life. She was also currently employed in the same law firm as himself so the calendar check was a daily event.

But she does it so sweetly. Just to see if I’m open for lunch. Yeah. Right.

Possessive beneath the dripping smiles, Ashley was wildly jealous of any woman, but especially the one in his trunk. Never mind the fact that they both had betrayed her trust and faith three years before by having an affair. Never mind that it seemed Ashley had won the battle over his dubious regard. Ashley never forgot they had both been whores. Their breech of conduct, rarely spoken aloud, plagued his fiancée.

The unacknowledged demons riding her hissed poison tinged with truth. “You cheated on a woman you lived with for eight years. How do I know you won’t do the same to me?”

The demons seemed content to possess Ashley. Now, they needed another conscience to ply their venom. Ashley, usually in perfect control of her bountiful emotions, had been a thorn in his side ever since Halloween.

Since the night they both watched her take stage in a just another one of a million costume contests.

Ashley had glared at the crimson vision accepting her tiny trophy and cash prize with a wide smile and graceful curtsey. Her manicured nails had dug into his bicep while her pasted smile shredded with insincerity. “Well, isn’t she just lovely? Modesty aside, that costume is very pretty. Alice in Wonderland, right? I prefer Shakespeare but Carroll is quite popular for the juvenile at heart…”

Titania had not been happy all night. No one had recognized the origins of her clever costume. Women remarked on its prettiness and men had taken the opportunity to stare at her discreetly augmented breasts. No, Titania had been in a snit and now and she wanted Oberon to rectify the situation immediately with a scathing insult towards the other queen.

Oberon had chosen to do otherwise. It was often said that the best revenge is living well. The Queen of Hearts had been living very well. She radiated happiness and beauty. Where Ashley was fair, she was dark. Where Ashley was tall, she carried a diminutive stature. Crystalline blue gave way to deepest emerald. Ashley, beautiful as she was, quivered with insecurity and fear. The other one didn’t.

And never had.

He had refused to let Ashley lead him to her. He wouldn’t allow her to use the pretense of hello to inflict damage on the other. He hadn’t wanted to see that perhaps there was no wound to reopen. That maybe he had gone way of useless memory, cut off and banished.

Instead, they left the Queen to her court, withholding their brittle silence and murky awakenings.

He used haste when driving over the gravel. Defiant to pings and dents, reckless impatience urged him to hurry. He needed to get to the house. The cold night made him worry about her comfort. As he drew to a stop, he wondered if she would welcome him the same as she had the first time.

Wash Away by Greenway Review

Estimated reading time: 3 – 4 minutes

“His life was resting on a knife edge; the blade held firmly in fate’s fickle fist. And the only person he believed could save him from the inevitable was the girl he cruelly tormented for six long years.”

Summary for “Wash Away” by Greenway.

Typically, reviews are written with methodical thought and precision. While I may approach my writing with those qualities in mind, I am not approaching this review with such sterling qualities.

Simply put:  I am writing from the gut. I am writing with envy. I am writing with adoration. I am writing because this story deserves to be read.

Please be aware that I am not a reader of J.K. Rowling’s most-beloved Harry Potter series. I skimmed the first chapter of the first book and decided it wasn’t for me. Frankly, I’m not quite sure exactly how I wandered into HP fanfiction. However, it probably isn’t a surprise that even with very little background knowledge of HP, I still managed to become enamoured with Draco/Hermione fanfiction. The extremes of class, ideology, blood, love, and hatred summed up so well by these two characters are exactly my kind of thing.

The point of my HP backstory, or lack thereof, is to express what an outstanding piece of fiction Wash Away truly is. While HP elements are mentioned, a novice to the Rowling universe can enjoy this story–if they’re into this kind of thing. You know—fiction that leaves you aching, empty, miserable, and all-too-hungry for more?

So what exactly has me so moved by Wash Away?

It is a decidely dark, psychological look into the psyche of a character whose very emptiness is only compounded by the unwanted love he has for the eptimome of everything he has ever loathed. Draco’s obsessive love for Hermione does not go the way of ardent lover who seeks to force his will onto his hapless victim. In this story, Draco seeks blessed obliviousness in regards to his feelings for Hermione. He would rather disintegrate into nothingness before allowing himself the desire to even hope for love.

To say Hermione’s feelings for Draco are any less violent would be an understatement. Hers, of course, are handled much differently. She charges forward, unwilling and unable to box up her love for much of the story. The inevitable push and pull between these characters is intoxicating to someone of my literary proclivities.

Greenway skillfully tells this story in a way that draws the reader into the very minds of Draco and Hermione. Draco’s soul is tormented, lonely, empty, grey, and pristine with apathy. The only splash of color in that terrifying space is Hermione. Hermione’s is glimmering with the emptiness of innocence. It isn’t too long before it too becomes darkened. Yet, she never loses hope—not completely.

Not once did I ever feel that I couldn’t empathize with Draco for his cruelty or Hermione for her desperate optimism.

Wash Away is intelligent, moving, obsessive, and has stayed with me long after I read the final chapter last night. Thankfully, the sequel is being worked on and will hopefully be posted in the upcoming weeks. I strongly urge anyone who has a terrible love of angst fiction to please read this story. It truly is a gem worth reading. My only regrets are that I didn’t write it myself.

Now, go on and read this!

Image Credit: krrass from stock.xchng.