New Year, Old Loves

04 Sunday Jan 2015

Posted by Emmi Lawrence in Fantasy, M/F, Short Story

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Erotica, Fiction, Love, Romance, Writing

New Year, Old Loves

Short Story (Approx. 3200)

The apartment building had a ragged, yellowing appearance, as if it’d seen too many smokers sitting in its covered stoop and weathered far too many evictions. Not the place Pete had envisioned he would find Gwennie, but then his imagination had run wild in the past couple of years. Pictures of perfection. Of white picket fences, hanging plants and baby blue curtains. And, of course, a plethora of men who she might have chosen after him.

He glanced at the address on the slip of paper her brother had given him. Apartment 3B. So, not the door to the left or the door to the right, but the one smack-dab in the middle. The one with the two metal chairs and circular table sitting out front. The one with the wreath visible behind the clearish screen door. The one with the welcome mat with the bright spring colors and cheerful yellow birds on it. Continue reading →

Clean Sweep

28 Sunday Dec 2014

Posted by Emmi Lawrence in Fantasy, M/M, Short Story

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Clean Sweep

Short Story (Approx. 5400)

Something fluttered in the chimney, a thumping noise that vibrated for a few seconds then fell silent. Trey hesitated, his hand upraised with the mistletoe he’d decided to hang despite its drooping leaves and squished berries. The sound came again, this time lasting longer and accompanied by a distinct scratch.

Then silence.

When the sound didn’t occur a third time, Trey finished hanging the mistletoe above the door frame separating the living room from the kitchen. Then he ripped off the plastic tag from the red garland he’d bought and, using colorful pushpins he’d brought home from his last incredibly boring data entry job, he tacked it up around the door frame. The garland ended up being lopsided by a few inches, but Trey just left it since Kevin had a tendency to be quite unobservant so it would be a surprise if he saw the garland in the first place, let alone noticed it wasn’t even. Continue reading →

Sun Kissed

16 Sunday Nov 2014

Posted by Emmi Lawrence in Fantasy, Science Fiction, Short Story

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Sun Kissed

Short Story (Approx. 7400)

Copyright © Ricketyus via Flickr Public License

History documented his landing. Not in so many words, but as a footnote referencing the fiery meteor that streaked across the sky and crashed among the pitted craters toward the northeast of the settlement.

Later stories told of a demon dwelling in the canyon who could burn your flesh right off your body with a single touch. Mothers used the demon of the canyon fable for decades to scare their children into obedience. By the time I was born, the canyon had been renamed, even on our maps.

In my youth, I preferred to be respected and trusted by my elders so no one ever called me a wild child or a rebel. Oh, I had my few forays into the craters, climbed up to drink from the spiral spring and had to run my heart out to escape from the king bull who ruled the dusty fields and rutted all the cows. But those expeditions had been practically expected by my parents and I barely received a glare from my father for getting home late. Never had I strayed into even the slanting edge of the canyon where many others gathered for late-night parties, their daring more out of idiocy rather than courage.

And yet, for all that, I’d never been afraid. It’s hard to fear something you don’t believe exists. Continue reading →

If These Walls Could Talk

14 Sunday Sep 2014

Posted by Emmi Lawrence in Fantasy, M/F, Short Story

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If These Walls Could Talk

Short Story (Approx. 3100)

The last owner of the workshop had been some sort of kinky necromancer assassin. Either that or he—or she, Lev didn’t actually know who had owned the place before him—had been a blood caster. Hell, he could even have been a death-spell collector. Lev didn’t know and the lips couldn’t tell him anything straight since their brains had been scrambled when they’d been sliced off their bodies and spelled to the walls of the workshop.

The first time he’d walked into the place, he’d immediately turned around and walked right back out. Blinked in the sunlight as he tried to ignore the real-estate agent blabbering on about how the workshop was one-of-a-kind and perfect for a man like him. Lev had asked the idiot man point-blank whether his company had even tried to remove the lips. The agent had merely grinned and told him that their resources were limited and he was sure that a man of Lev’s ability could easily remove the lips if he wished.

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The Cascade and The Firebrand

07 Sunday Sep 2014

Posted by Emmi Lawrence in Fantasy, M/M, Short Story

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The Cascade and The Firebrand

Short Story (Approx. 5400)

He wore the water, a cascade flowing down his torso and crashing at his feet. The spray rose into the air, catching the sun’s rays so perfect that rainbows flickered in and out of existence as he walked. His steps, strong and sure, were accompanied with the roar of the falls. A roar that echoed against the promenade’s inner wall and spilled out between the columns of the opposing side.

Parolai the Firebrand could feel the spray of the water as the man passed. It kissed his cheeks, the mist so fine there was no question it had been created by a primordial denizen. The smell of it had Parolai pausing, savoring the intoxicating mix of freshwater and power.

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Wounds of the Warrior (Part 3 of 3)

31 Sunday Aug 2014

Posted by Emmi Lawrence in Fantasy, M/F, Serial

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Erotica, Fiction, Love, Romance, Writing

Wounds of the Warrior

Serial: Part 3 of 3 (Approx. 5000 of 15400)

Part 1 / Part 2

The plateau came to an edge, cutting down so steeply only a mountain goat could hope to navigate it. Cohriahra scowled at the offending piece of terrain, leaning out to look down at the tips of the trees stretching up towards her, searching for some inkling that they’d been going the right direction. A light touch against her lower back made her heart skip a beat.

“Planning on falling?”

“Only if you push me,” she said.

Mahden’s hand pressed firmer against her flesh, warm despite the rain, and his other came snaking across her middle, pulling her up and tugging her away from the edge. She contemplated shoving him away, her annoyance high at his protective nature that begged the question of how incapable he must think she was. In the end, she relaxed, letting him guide her into stepping away, her body flush with the pleasure of having someone touch her as if they cared.

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Wounds of the Warrior (Part 2 of 3)

24 Sunday Aug 2014

Posted by Emmi Lawrence in Fantasy, M/F, Serial

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Wounds of the Warrior

Serial: Part 2 of 3 (Approx. 5200 of 15400)

Part 1

The first question came as he braced to set her bone. “What’s your name?”

“Cohriahra,” she gritted out from around the edge of the fur he’d let her shove in her mouth.

“How many cub mates do you have?”

She blinked at the question, but relaxed her jaw enough to respond around her mouthful. “You mean littermates or siblings?”

“Either. Both.” He was moving his hands along her arm, his touch agony wherever he pushed.

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Wounds of the Warrior (Part 1 of 3)

17 Sunday Aug 2014

Posted by Emmi Lawrence in Fantasy, M/F, Serial

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Wounds of the Warrior

Serial: Part 1 of 3 (Approx. 5200 of 15400)

She was dying a shameful death. Life seeping out from the bandage at her side. No bleeding to death from her injuries, no, nothing close to a prideful death. Infection had set in. She could feel it eating at her strength, sapping her energy. Her steps had turned slothful. Lethargy had come to make friends with her before she gave in to her shameful death.

Cohriahra leaned against the wide bark of a pine and ground her teeth on the leather strap she’d shoved into her mouth at the start of the gauntlet. It had kept her from screaming then and it kept her from screaming now.

Every time she glanced down, she winced at her bare, naked skin. Her clan markings were gone. Nothing but real blood leaking down her side, drying in strange patterns.

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For Want of a Man

03 Sunday Aug 2014

Posted by Emmi Lawrence in Fantasy, M/F, Short Story

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For Want of a Man

Short Story (Approx. 4200)

Muscle didn’t even begin to describe him. He strode through the lot with confidence, maybe even a smidge of cockiness, but just a smidge. Hair shorn close to his scalp, pale enough, with a hint of orange glinting in the sunlight. Worn jeans, with the beginnings of holes in one of the knees and around his left pocket as if he kept his keys there. Boot cut, with the boots underneath to give them a rhyme and reason. His shirt was one of those five-for-ten white undershirts at the local Walmart. Probably fresh from the package.

She wanted to rev, just a little, to get his attention, but with the smarmy salesmen around and the likelihood that this particular man preferred laidback confidence and an easy ride over flashy and loud, she held down the desire.

Instead, she winked at him.

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Only One Worth Kissing (Part 2 of 2)

27 Sunday Jul 2014

Posted by Emmi Lawrence in Fantasy, M/F, Serial

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Only One Worth Kissing

Serial: Part 2 of 2 (Approx. 4200 of 8600)

(Part 1 can be found here)

“Is something wrong?” asked Harmony in greeting as her brother advanced on them.

“Wrong?” said Cantin, his voice loud, shattering the mood. He looked straight at Derik, all but ignoring Harmony’s presence. “You must have something wrong with you. I told you to back off!”

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