This is Love, This is Murder: Day 4

For today’s theme of Lust for Love I have written a flash fiction story. I hope you enjoy. Please check out Ellen’s post here.zbz5kp7d9z8-patrick-tomasso

Her golden brown skin was beautiful and soft to the touch. The man couldn’t resist caressing her bare back as she lay on top of him. The gorgeous young woman smiled as he touched her and leaned in to kiss him. Her lips were soft and wild as they pressed hard against his. He quickly flipped her on her back.  The man admired the woman’s beautifully curvy body before he began licking. He licked every part of her chest and then his tongue found its way to her belly button where he spent a good five minutes before the young woman flipped him onto his back and ripped off his pants, then she slowly took off her skirt and bent over to kiss his lips. She moved down to his neck, then his chest where she circled his nipples with her tongue before moving to his belly button. The man moaned breathlessly as she kissed and licked then he finally flipped the young woman onto her back then got on top of her and pressed his moist lips against her soft lips. The woman could feel the man’s hardness as she lay underneath him; she wrapped her arms around him and opened her legs. They were still in their underwear.

“You are so beautiful,” The man whispered into her ear.

“Yeah I know,” She smiled as the man began kissing her neck.

“I bet she never touches you like this?” the man grinned.

“Don’t say that,” the woman said, pulling away from the man.

“Come on baby don’t be like that.” The man pleaded continuing to kiss her.

“I’m not your baby so get the fuck off me!” The woman exclaimed angrily.

“Just relax.” The man said, holding the woman down on the bed.

She kicked him in the groin and pushed him off of her.

“You peace of shit,” she said, gathering her clothes and heading to the door.


Diana slowly crept into the house. All the lights were out and the entire house was completely silent. She took off her heels and slowly stepped up the stairs. She didn’t want to wake anyone up. When she reached her bedroom she slipped out of her dress and quietly climbed into bed next to her lover Grace who did not wake. Diana did it again. She made it back before anyone even knew she was gone. She was a pro.

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This is Love, This is Murder: Day 3

Love Lost in a Hail of Gunfire

Helena took a big deep breath
Kicked the tall double doors open
And strut into the crowded room
A Glock 17 in each hand
She did not hesitate to kill

Two men near the door, kneecaps gone
Man with the bazooka, head-shot
She ducked and dodged every bullet
Shooting legs, arms, chests, head, and hearts

She wasted a dozen henchmen
And was face to face with the boss
If she wasn’t gonna get love
Because of Juan and his damn crew
Juan would not get love cause of her

Click to see Ellen’s post.


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This is Love, This is Murder: Day 2

Today’s prompt is Dark Bedroom Fantasy. For my birthday, my best friend, Ellen (Click to see her blog), sent me a book with 300 writing prompts (she knows me so well). I decided to the prompt book as a gateway for my fiction where I respond to the prompts through the eyes of different characters. And as I struggled to come up with a post for day 2 I came across a prompt that inspired one of my characters to respond. The prompt was: What was the last puzzle you worked?


“I thought you were impossible until now. You sparked so much wonder and excitement into my spirit that I thought for sure you were some otherworldly being sent to me as a gift for years of grueling work undying devotion, for the dirty infernal labor that most women would have detested and condemned.I toted the company line, slicing and dicing my own little work ethic. I kept my head down and satisfied the iniquitous requirements of my mission. I never overindulged or overestimated my role on this earth. I did what they told me and I never made a fuss. I was a loyal minion and now I have been blessed with the most amazing gift,”  said Lyana, a grin stretched across her face as she hovered above the bulky, brown skinned man strapped to the table in front of her.

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This is Love, This is Murder: Valentine’s Blog Challenge (DAY 1)

Valentine’s Day is around the corner and this year my best friend Ellen Kaline (Click to view her blog) and I will spend the next 10 days focusing on the theme of love with a bleak twist. The theme is This is Love, This is Murder and our posts will surround love from a more downbeat and gritty place.

The first day’s prompt is: a Secret Love Letter. I hope you enjoy.


Dear _____________________ ,

I don’t know what it is. I don’t know what to call it. Wishful thinking? Or maybe it’s called Pathetic Excuses to obsess over every “I miss you” and “can I tell you a secret” that passes from your beautiful lips. Every time you laugh at my stupid jokes or agree with one of my awful insults of the people you kissed who weren’t me, I forget to breathe and my lungs get heavy and then I have to remind myself to inhale.

I don’t know what to call that.

That feeling like every time you ask to hang out or go to lunch together, you’re asking me because you want to be near me. Like I exude this beautiful, magically enthralling spirit of joy and love… Something so contagious that even when I act a fool, trying to impress you, or act out my name, trying to hide the obvious fact that I am crushing on you hard, you will still look at me like I’m the sole reason you’re happy here.

I don’t know why I hang on every compliment you give me like they’re declarations of your affection. They’re not. You probably don’t analyze my every word and action, as if trying to decipher an ancient map leading to a mythical city made of gold where Queens of the old worlds hid all the secrets of spirituality and sex. You probably don’t see me and beg the deities of the earth and wisdom to give you the strength to hide your true feelings so you don’t scare me off. And I’m sure you don’t notice all the extra things I do to show my undying devotion to you, the little things I do to express how much I care about your well-being.

It’s not your fault though.

I’m the one that’s keeping it a secret.


Your Friend Who’s in Love with You

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Back 2 Life

2016 was an intense year for me, for the United States of America, and for the entire world. We are living in different times right now, things are changing all around us, and we must all remember not to let unjust and exploitative actions, policies, or behaviors become normalized in our country and in the world. We must not allow our fellow peoples to fall into harms way while we sit back and enjoy the privileges we experience as a nation, as different groups and cultures, and as individuals.

“Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly.”

― Martin Luther King Jr., Letter from the Birmingham Jail

Clouds: Poetry

To check out the drawing by my friend Chris that inspired this story click HERE.

A Tale of Storms and Shadows


Tei’Mele rushed past the thick trees, trying to get free
He did not look back, fearing it would be there
His brown skin covered in goosebumps, he could not see
The thick branch hanging ahead, knocking him square
He fell to the dirt, a loud howl, out of control
The monster, the beast that was searching for his soul

The beast growled in the darkness fear starting to form
Tei’Mele sat straight up, the wind knocked out of his lungs
Tei’Mele’s heart racing; his mind was in a storm
He struggled to ready himself, his courage flung
The monster with sharp teeth and pointy claws jumped out
Tei’Mele was so terrified, he let out a shout

The monster was ready to bite, hungry and mean
Tei’Mele could feel it’s deadly breath, evil and hot
It was the most frightening thing that he had seen
Escaping the monster filled Tei’Mele’s every thought
Tei’Mele waved his hands and the beast froze in the air
His eyes glazed purple and gray clouds began to flare

The monster roared, then disappeared
The gray clouds swarming far and near
Tei’Mele found power he never knew he had

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Rainy Days

Today’s post is a story inspired by the artwork of a friend of mine. To check out the drawing by my friend Chris that inspired this story click HERE.

This month is Sexual Assault Awareness month which is an important month for many people around the world and a great time for everyone to get educated on ways they can become involved in supporting resources and support systems for those who have been sexually assaulted. For more information check out:

I hope you all enjoy this poem!

A Tale of Storms and Shadows

La’Mia sat in the dark thinking of hot food and her
              granny’s stories
Her granny could tell a ghost story, back when La’Mia
              had no worries
A time that La’Mia only recalled in her dreams; when she
              did have dreams
It seemed as if all of her waking and sleeping thoughts
              were filled with pain
Happy times were long past due, and hope was not
              allowed, it did seem
La’Mia gazed out of the window, her mind storming as
              she smelled the rain
                    If you could call a tiny hole in the wall a window
                                  at all
                    La’Mia was dead and desolated inside; devoured
                                   by demons, she couldn’t hide

The door burst open and La’Mia didn’t move, she knew
              what was coming
A tall pale man stomped into the cell, a grin on his face,
              his lips humming
It was her time, the hangman was waiting in the rain,
              she chose not to resist
“Get up, you witch!” the man spat out; that shit didn’t
              phase La’Mia anymore
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, soon it would
              all cease to exist
She followed the white-haired man to the gallows,
              people screaming up a roar
                    Up the wooden steps, fear to the wind, her fate
                                   was pinned
                    La’Mia made patient peace with her past, pride
                                   and prejudice did not last

The crowd that wanted her dead and called her a witch,
              took her sister too
La’Mia watched her sister burn at the stake, there was
              nothing she could do
And at that moment she was ready for it all to be over,
              she wanted to move on
The rain washed over her brown skin and she smiled,
              hoping to see her sister soon
Suddenly a voice, echoed in her ear telling her not to
              stand there like a silly pawn
She opened her eyes and looked up at the sky; she
              couldn’t see it but she felt the moon
                    Glistening, it spoke to her and said, “Your power
                                  isn’t dead.”
                    La’Mia summoned her sacred power, spirits and
                                  secrets ready to devour

The rain stopped and La’Mia broke loose
She attacked with vengeance from her noose
Cursing and hexing all those that wished for her death
La’Mia ripped hearts out of rib cages with every breath
              La’Mia got vengeance but all for a price, petty,
                            petulant, and prideful but wasn’t it nice?

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Poetry: Tanaga

I know we left things real rough
Letting you go was so tough
No matter where my heart beats
You can still come home to me

*Tanaga: a type of Filipino poem, consisting of four lines (2 couplets) with seven syllables each. Each couplet rhymes: 7-7-7-7 syllable scheme, AABB rhyme scheme.

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Poetry: Run Me My Money

About? I
Changed my mind. You
Messed up, so run me my money

*Fib: an experimental Western poetry form, bearing similarities to haiku, but based on the Fibonacci sequence. It is a six line, 20 syllable poem with a syllable count by line of 1-1-2-3-5-8.

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