Maybe because it combines some of my favorite things: teen vampires, Harry Potter, and allusions to racism.
Showing posts with label Twilight books. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Twilight books. Show all posts
Monday, February 8, 2010
I Don't Know Why I Love This So Much
Maybe because it combines some of my favorite things: teen vampires, Harry Potter, and allusions to racism.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Somebody's Got a Case of the Mondays.....
OMFG I am so bored today, guys. And it’s not even noon. I’ve been trying to look busy, which involves much bloggery. However, being tired slows down my capacity for original thought, which makes successful bloggery difficult. Anyway, my weekend was pretty low-key. I’ve become a Harlem recluse, staying home most nights and keeping it incognegro with television. It helps that madukes and her Latin lover are in Uruguay, because now I can stay home without the threat of black mama drama.
Twilight was on Showtime this weekend, and they made a really big deal out of it. Like, way too big a deal out of it. There were all these interviews and teasers and it's like, Showtime, this movie has been out for a year. Chillax.
I was uncomfortable.
It reminded me of the morning when I passed three middle-aged female members of Caucasia, all wearing the same powder-blue t-shirt underneath windbreakers. Of course, I assumed they were members of a church group or attendees of a scrap-booking convention (I often stereotype before I’ve had my morning caffeine). For some reason, I decided to focus my eyes on their Ts, and was shocked to see the following text:
THE NEW MOON EXPERIENCE
NEW YORK CITY
NOVEMBER 19, 2009
TwilightMoms!!! AAAHHH!!! I thought my viewing of Twilight at 10:30am by myself in Sydney, Australia, was tragic, but this was a whole new level. I mean, I really hope they were moms just chaperoning their kids, but I saw no kids, so I can't make that assumption. And that worries me.
And it also inspires.
I can think of no better way to deal with my boredom than with another installment of DUSK. For those of you out of the fruit loop, here are our previous chapters:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Beaut made it into English class just as the second bell rang. She took her usual seat by the window next to Rachel, and they shared a smile. Rachel was a terrible gossip, but it was worse to get on her bad side, and Beaut couldn’t help but be grateful for her kindness during her first weeks at Spoons High. They were reading Jane Eyre, which Beaut had already read 100 times before, so she quickly zoned out. Her thoughts immediately floated to Gregory, and that time they went to Anchorage for the night. She rode on his back all the way there, and they had an amazing dinner at a seafood restaurant. Well, Gregory just watched her eat, as usual. She remembered how sexy it was when he cracked the crab shell with his bare hands, how patient he was when she chewed. On their way back home they stopped in an Eskimo village, where Edward had some vampire friends (the darkness in the area most of the year enabled them to blend in effortlessly). As she clutched his back on the way home, she knew what she wanted forever to feel like….
Just then, Beaut was snapped out of her daydream by a tapping sound on the window. She looked up and saw Noah standing there with a wide grin on his face. His perfect white teeth gleamed even brighter against his mahogany skin. No, it was caramel. No, it was like mahogany that someone spilled hot caramel on and then licked off sensuously. Yep, that was it.
Noah motioned for her to come outside. Rachel looked at her suspiciously, but Beaut didn’t meet her stare. She knew that no matter what she said, Rachel would tell anyone who would listen that she’d gone off with Noah. She just gathered her bag and raised her hand.
“Yes, Beaut?” Mr. Perry looked almost excited when he called on her. Beaut so rarely spoke in class that it was a treat to know she was even alive, let alone engaged.
“I’m not feeling so well,” she mumbled, trying to sound weak – which wasn’t hard, because she was very delicate, pale, and whiney. “Can I go to the nurse’s office?”
“Sure,” Mr. Perry sighed, disappointed. “Do you need someone to escort you?”
Matt Simpson’s hand immediately went up. He’d had a crush on Beaut since her first day, but they were just friends.
“No, I can make it. Thanks.” Beaut quickly ducked out before Mr. Perry could ask anymore questions.
She raced out of the building and saw Noah on his motorcycle. His long Native American hair glistened in the sunlight. He revved the bike’s engine and Beaut felt a tingling sensation….down there.
She shook it off—they were just friends. Besides, he was ethnic—Gregory may have been undead and feasted on human blood, but they made way more sense together.
Beaut immediately hopped on the back of the bike and wrapped her arms around Noah chest as they sped off the campus grounds.
“You’re solid as Barack,” Beaut said, nestling her head into his back.
“I’ve been doing core work,” Noah replied. “Let’s go to The Thrust—I want to show you something.”
The Thrust was the reservation where Noah and the other natives lived. Beaut loved to go there because it was sort of dangerous, but also felt like home. She and Noah would sit by the roaring waves on the rocky shore and just hang out, talk, and occasionally touch each other suggestively. This time was no different, as they sat down close to each other and Noah put his arm around her, trying to get some side-boob action.
“Beaut, I have something to tell you,” Noah said after a few minutes of silence.
“What is it?” Beaut said, trying to be calm. She really hoped he wouldn’t reveal his feelings for her, because their entire friendship rested on Beaut being selfishly oblivious to his emotions.
“Remember that time I told you that story about this guy I know who’s a werewolf?”
“Yeah, your friend Toah?”
“Yeah, well, um, by ‘Toah’ I meant me. Noah.”
Beaut was stunned. How could she have not seen this coming? Noah’s flowing locks, his ripped abs, and not to mention the fact that he sported a partial erection at all times and was a minority – of course he was part animal.
“Say something,” Noah said, softly.
Beaut must have been silent for longer than she realized. She suddenly looked at Noah, as if for the first time really seeing him.
And she wasn’t afraid.
Actually, she was kind of turned on.
Oh my god, what's going to happen next???? Beaut is torn between two men, both mythical and freakishly strong!!! THIS IS SO EXCITING.
Is it lunchtime yet?
Twilight was on Showtime this weekend, and they made a really big deal out of it. Like, way too big a deal out of it. There were all these interviews and teasers and it's like, Showtime, this movie has been out for a year. Chillax.
I was uncomfortable.
It reminded me of the morning when I passed three middle-aged female members of Caucasia, all wearing the same powder-blue t-shirt underneath windbreakers. Of course, I assumed they were members of a church group or attendees of a scrap-booking convention (I often stereotype before I’ve had my morning caffeine). For some reason, I decided to focus my eyes on their Ts, and was shocked to see the following text:
THE NEW MOON EXPERIENCE
NEW YORK CITY
NOVEMBER 19, 2009
TwilightMoms!!! AAAHHH!!! I thought my viewing of Twilight at 10:30am by myself in Sydney, Australia, was tragic, but this was a whole new level. I mean, I really hope they were moms just chaperoning their kids, but I saw no kids, so I can't make that assumption. And that worries me.
And it also inspires.
I can think of no better way to deal with my boredom than with another installment of DUSK. For those of you out of the fruit loop, here are our previous chapters:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Beaut made it into English class just as the second bell rang. She took her usual seat by the window next to Rachel, and they shared a smile. Rachel was a terrible gossip, but it was worse to get on her bad side, and Beaut couldn’t help but be grateful for her kindness during her first weeks at Spoons High. They were reading Jane Eyre, which Beaut had already read 100 times before, so she quickly zoned out. Her thoughts immediately floated to Gregory, and that time they went to Anchorage for the night. She rode on his back all the way there, and they had an amazing dinner at a seafood restaurant. Well, Gregory just watched her eat, as usual. She remembered how sexy it was when he cracked the crab shell with his bare hands, how patient he was when she chewed. On their way back home they stopped in an Eskimo village, where Edward had some vampire friends (the darkness in the area most of the year enabled them to blend in effortlessly). As she clutched his back on the way home, she knew what she wanted forever to feel like….
Just then, Beaut was snapped out of her daydream by a tapping sound on the window. She looked up and saw Noah standing there with a wide grin on his face. His perfect white teeth gleamed even brighter against his mahogany skin. No, it was caramel. No, it was like mahogany that someone spilled hot caramel on and then licked off sensuously. Yep, that was it.
Noah motioned for her to come outside. Rachel looked at her suspiciously, but Beaut didn’t meet her stare. She knew that no matter what she said, Rachel would tell anyone who would listen that she’d gone off with Noah. She just gathered her bag and raised her hand.
“Yes, Beaut?” Mr. Perry looked almost excited when he called on her. Beaut so rarely spoke in class that it was a treat to know she was even alive, let alone engaged.
“I’m not feeling so well,” she mumbled, trying to sound weak – which wasn’t hard, because she was very delicate, pale, and whiney. “Can I go to the nurse’s office?”
“Sure,” Mr. Perry sighed, disappointed. “Do you need someone to escort you?”
Matt Simpson’s hand immediately went up. He’d had a crush on Beaut since her first day, but they were just friends.
“No, I can make it. Thanks.” Beaut quickly ducked out before Mr. Perry could ask anymore questions.
She raced out of the building and saw Noah on his motorcycle. His long Native American hair glistened in the sunlight. He revved the bike’s engine and Beaut felt a tingling sensation….down there.
She shook it off—they were just friends. Besides, he was ethnic—Gregory may have been undead and feasted on human blood, but they made way more sense together.
Beaut immediately hopped on the back of the bike and wrapped her arms around Noah chest as they sped off the campus grounds.
“You’re solid as Barack,” Beaut said, nestling her head into his back.
“I’ve been doing core work,” Noah replied. “Let’s go to The Thrust—I want to show you something.”
The Thrust was the reservation where Noah and the other natives lived. Beaut loved to go there because it was sort of dangerous, but also felt like home. She and Noah would sit by the roaring waves on the rocky shore and just hang out, talk, and occasionally touch each other suggestively. This time was no different, as they sat down close to each other and Noah put his arm around her, trying to get some side-boob action.
“Beaut, I have something to tell you,” Noah said after a few minutes of silence.
“What is it?” Beaut said, trying to be calm. She really hoped he wouldn’t reveal his feelings for her, because their entire friendship rested on Beaut being selfishly oblivious to his emotions.
“Remember that time I told you that story about this guy I know who’s a werewolf?”
“Yeah, your friend Toah?”
“Yeah, well, um, by ‘Toah’ I meant me. Noah.”
Beaut was stunned. How could she have not seen this coming? Noah’s flowing locks, his ripped abs, and not to mention the fact that he sported a partial erection at all times and was a minority – of course he was part animal.
“Say something,” Noah said, softly.
Beaut must have been silent for longer than she realized. She suddenly looked at Noah, as if for the first time really seeing him.
And she wasn’t afraid.
Actually, she was kind of turned on.
Oh my god, what's going to happen next???? Beaut is torn between two men, both mythical and freakishly strong!!! THIS IS SO EXCITING.
Is it lunchtime yet?
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
It’s cool, not trying to put a rush on you…
But I gotta let you know that I got a crush on… well, not you, this other dude.
Guys, I am totes crushin’ like a 14 year old. There’s this actor who was, like, made for me. FOR ME.
He is 6’4”, he has red hair (holla at a genetic anomaly!), and he is so pasty pale that he is damn near translucent.
He is so lacking in pigment that he appears to have no eyebrows or eyelashes – how does he fight off debris?! What about sweat?! He’s a medical marvel, and I must now how he survives. Maybe’s he’s one of the X-Men or something.
His skin is like porcelain, and looks as soft and smooth as vanilla pudding.
His hair is the color of honey and strawberry jam mixed together
His eyes are as blue as the ocean and the sky - no, the horizon line, where the ocean and sky meet
I am going on about his physical appearance because I have yet to speak to him for more than 2 seconds.
I met him through a mutual friend a couple months ago, and he seemed kinda cold, but this could be because our friend put me on blast, mentioning that when he and I first met, I hugged him and proclaimed, “you will be my winter spoon.” It wasn’t quite the impression I’d hoped to make, but I shook it off.
But I couldn’t get him off of my mind.
I think I know how Bella must have felt the first time she saw Edward.
This past weekend, a friend of mine told me she ran into this same redhead at a party and he referred to me as “a beautiful black woman.” HOLY SHIT.
Needless to say, the flame was rekindled.
I saw him last night at a party, and he was looking as good as ever, all pasty and piercing, with those eyes of his. It would have been a great time to walk up and say hello, now that I was armed with the knowledge that he was down with the brown. However, I was held back by the fact that, whenever I’m surrounded by improvisers, actors, and/or comedians, I become mildly autistic, painfully self-conscious, and my tongue turns to lead. Add that the fact that I wasn’t drinking, and you pretty much have me at the age of 13.
So, instead of re-introducing myself, saying hello, or complimenting him on his show like the strong black woman that I am, I just stared at him longingly/mildly creepily at random moments. This didn’t really bother me at first, because I know deep in my heart that I don’t need to date anyone at all right now, and if I never speak to him, he can never fail me (we all know how I emo I get when things don’t go well).
But after a while I realized that I was basically eye-fucking the poor pasty chap without consent, and the ultimate closure would be to speak to him and realize that he’s racist or something equally deal-breaking so I could stop idealizing. So, in an attempt to close the chapter on what was becoming my own personal Twilight, I told my friend about my crush and asked him what I should do. I believe my exact phraseology was, “How can I get in with ___? And by ‘get in with,’ I don’t mean his P in my V as much as a real conversation.” His advice was threefold:
-Mention Guns N Roses
-Tell him you’re Jewish
-Play with his elbow skin.
The last one was a mockery of my personal penchant for pinching elbow skin (weird, I know. Accept it.), and was just another way to set me up for embarrassment. Based on the first two suggestions, however, it would seem that so far my crush and I have absolutely nothing in common. This won’t stop me from an introduction, though. I’m thinking:
“When I was a little girl in Addis Ababa – I’m an Ethiopian Jew – I remember seeing Guns and Roses on the MTV VMA’s in 1992. Slash’s solo…. Am I right?”
I don’t know anything about said solo, but I’ll let him fill in the blank and get the ball rolling. A conversation is, after all, a two-way street… one that you pave over and construct manipulative roadblocks on to lead the driver (your crush) into the tunnel of LOVE.
I mean, whatever. It's just (just) a little crush (crush) - not like I faint every time we touch.
If you don't know what that line is from, let me take you back to the late 90s, friend.
Guys, I am totes crushin’ like a 14 year old. There’s this actor who was, like, made for me. FOR ME.
He is 6’4”, he has red hair (holla at a genetic anomaly!), and he is so pasty pale that he is damn near translucent.
He is so lacking in pigment that he appears to have no eyebrows or eyelashes – how does he fight off debris?! What about sweat?! He’s a medical marvel, and I must now how he survives. Maybe’s he’s one of the X-Men or something.
His skin is like porcelain, and looks as soft and smooth as vanilla pudding.
His hair is the color of honey and strawberry jam mixed together
His eyes are as blue as the ocean and the sky - no, the horizon line, where the ocean and sky meet
I am going on about his physical appearance because I have yet to speak to him for more than 2 seconds.
I met him through a mutual friend a couple months ago, and he seemed kinda cold, but this could be because our friend put me on blast, mentioning that when he and I first met, I hugged him and proclaimed, “you will be my winter spoon.” It wasn’t quite the impression I’d hoped to make, but I shook it off.
But I couldn’t get him off of my mind.
I think I know how Bella must have felt the first time she saw Edward.
This past weekend, a friend of mine told me she ran into this same redhead at a party and he referred to me as “a beautiful black woman.” HOLY SHIT.
Needless to say, the flame was rekindled.
I saw him last night at a party, and he was looking as good as ever, all pasty and piercing, with those eyes of his. It would have been a great time to walk up and say hello, now that I was armed with the knowledge that he was down with the brown. However, I was held back by the fact that, whenever I’m surrounded by improvisers, actors, and/or comedians, I become mildly autistic, painfully self-conscious, and my tongue turns to lead. Add that the fact that I wasn’t drinking, and you pretty much have me at the age of 13.
So, instead of re-introducing myself, saying hello, or complimenting him on his show like the strong black woman that I am, I just stared at him longingly/mildly creepily at random moments. This didn’t really bother me at first, because I know deep in my heart that I don’t need to date anyone at all right now, and if I never speak to him, he can never fail me (we all know how I emo I get when things don’t go well).
But after a while I realized that I was basically eye-fucking the poor pasty chap without consent, and the ultimate closure would be to speak to him and realize that he’s racist or something equally deal-breaking so I could stop idealizing. So, in an attempt to close the chapter on what was becoming my own personal Twilight, I told my friend about my crush and asked him what I should do. I believe my exact phraseology was, “How can I get in with ___? And by ‘get in with,’ I don’t mean his P in my V as much as a real conversation.” His advice was threefold:
-Mention Guns N Roses
-Tell him you’re Jewish
-Play with his elbow skin.
The last one was a mockery of my personal penchant for pinching elbow skin (weird, I know. Accept it.), and was just another way to set me up for embarrassment. Based on the first two suggestions, however, it would seem that so far my crush and I have absolutely nothing in common. This won’t stop me from an introduction, though. I’m thinking:
“When I was a little girl in Addis Ababa – I’m an Ethiopian Jew – I remember seeing Guns and Roses on the MTV VMA’s in 1992. Slash’s solo…. Am I right?”
I don’t know anything about said solo, but I’ll let him fill in the blank and get the ball rolling. A conversation is, after all, a two-way street… one that you pave over and construct manipulative roadblocks on to lead the driver (your crush) into the tunnel of LOVE.
I mean, whatever. It's just (just) a little crush (crush) - not like I faint every time we touch.
If you don't know what that line is from, let me take you back to the late 90s, friend.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Monday Rhymes with Cray-Cray!
[KWalsh has just informed me that a newly single mutual friend has just joined Match.com]
Me: I am impressed by how quickly people rally. i just hate dating so much, i wouldn't wish it on anyone.
Me: I am impressed by how quickly people rally. i just hate dating so much, i wouldn't wish it on anyone.
i just want a werewolf to have me imprinted on to him.*
and he'll just see me and take care of me forever until it's time for us to be wed.
KWalsh: hahahaha!
imprint me, werewolf!
i just wish old crusty men would stop hitting on me
Me: you're on pirate island. you can't get around the old and crusty
KWalsh: seriously! the fucking pirates here!
* for those of you who aren't 14-year-old girls or into vampires, this is a reference to Jacob Black, the werewolf hottie in the Twilight series.
^ This is a reference to X Men.
Clearly, if I was into 15-year-old boys, I wouldn't be single right now.
Me: you're on pirate island. you can't get around the old and crusty
KWalsh: seriously! the fucking pirates here!
last night at the restaurant where i work, i was waiting on a family i know
and they were like "we are so sorry about uncle donny"
because he kissed my hand twice, asked when we are going to get married and then said in 5 years i would be "prime"
this man has a long flowing mane of gray hair and a beard
and questionable dental hygiene
Me: Oh god!
[I then fill her in on the latest confusion surrounding the fact that I have not been asked on a date by someone who most certainly should have asked by now. I am advised to play it cool and give him the benefit of the doubt.]
Me: all I need to be happy in a relationship is for the guy to tell me exactly how he's feeling about me and what he's thinking at all times.
Me: Oh god!
[I then fill her in on the latest confusion surrounding the fact that I have not been asked on a date by someone who most certainly should have asked by now. I am advised to play it cool and give him the benefit of the doubt.]
Me: all I need to be happy in a relationship is for the guy to tell me exactly how he's feeling about me and what he's thinking at all times.
is that too much to ask for?
KWalsh: ha.
yes
yes
Me: See, the thing is, I like to believe I have mind-control powers, but sometimes they're faulty, requiring that the guy actually express himself, and that's when I get all frustrated. It's like I'm Professor X and he's Magneto wearing that helmet that blocks me.^
KWalsh: You have to relax and not be negative.
Me: What world do we live in where having a secret spring break fiance is even an option?
KWalsh: You have to relax and not be negative.
stop complaining!
Me: hahahaha
KWalsh: a boy likes you!
and he doesnt have a secret spring break fiance!
* for those of you who aren't 14-year-old girls or into vampires, this is a reference to Jacob Black, the werewolf hottie in the Twilight series.
^ This is a reference to X Men.
Clearly, if I was into 15-year-old boys, I wouldn't be single right now.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Journey to the Center of CAUCASIA
In approximately 5 hours I will board a plane bound for Stockholm, Sweden, where I will spend 2 weeks. This will be plane number 14 in approximately 9 weeks. It will be my third journey into a different time zone. It will be frequent flyer miles 5,298,001-8,515,210.
I'm excited.
And fearful.
Not only will this be my first trip with one of my best friends--and the first time I've traveled with someone since developing my comfort and habits as a lone wolf/blackpacker--but I'll be in Scandinavia. The epicenter of Caucasian culture. Where pigment is a mere figment of the imagination!
I'm scared it's going to be very.... Village of the Damned.
AAAHHHH!!!! Inside Caucasia!
One friend said to me, "You go to the whitest vacation spots." Well, I'm sorry if this diminishes my 'negrosity,' but I believe that only by going deep inside Caucasia can I truly learn their ways. Like Nicholas Cage in Face/Off, I will go deep undercover--incognegro, if you will--and find out about Swedes. Packing list features:
-Hip boots, to combat the 40-degree temperatures.
-Sunglasses, to fend off the Swedish paparazzi who'll think I'm Michelle Obama.
-Eclipse, the third book in the Twilight series. After all, nothing prepares you for Caucasia like pasty vamps.
-The movie Juno, freshly uploaded onto my iPod. I'm not really sure why. Maybe cause it shows what trials and tribulations Caucasia can get through with a few smartly placed quips?
Okay, I'm off to finish packing and learn key Swedish phrases (such as "Do you have a girlfriend?" and "I'd like red wine, please"). Wish me luck! I hope to have hard-hitting news from my journey into the center of CAUCASIA* very soon.
*I hope my use of 'Caucasia' doesn't offend anyone. I mean, some of my best friends are White.
I'm excited.
And fearful.
Not only will this be my first trip with one of my best friends--and the first time I've traveled with someone since developing my comfort and habits as a lone wolf/blackpacker--but I'll be in Scandinavia. The epicenter of Caucasian culture. Where pigment is a mere figment of the imagination!
I'm scared it's going to be very.... Village of the Damned.
AAAHHHH!!!! Inside Caucasia!One friend said to me, "You go to the whitest vacation spots." Well, I'm sorry if this diminishes my 'negrosity,' but I believe that only by going deep inside Caucasia can I truly learn their ways. Like Nicholas Cage in Face/Off, I will go deep undercover--incognegro, if you will--and find out about Swedes. Packing list features:
-Hip boots, to combat the 40-degree temperatures.
-Sunglasses, to fend off the Swedish paparazzi who'll think I'm Michelle Obama.
-Eclipse, the third book in the Twilight series. After all, nothing prepares you for Caucasia like pasty vamps.
-The movie Juno, freshly uploaded onto my iPod. I'm not really sure why. Maybe cause it shows what trials and tribulations Caucasia can get through with a few smartly placed quips?
Okay, I'm off to finish packing and learn key Swedish phrases (such as "Do you have a girlfriend?" and "I'd like red wine, please"). Wish me luck! I hope to have hard-hitting news from my journey into the center of CAUCASIA* very soon.
*I hope my use of 'Caucasia' doesn't offend anyone. I mean, some of my best friends are White.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
If You Like Twilight, You'll Love DUSK
Since I’ve given up on men, I’ve started reading the Twilight books to get my fix of the good stuff-- I am all about the sexual tension and abstinence message. In fact, Twilight has inspired me to write a book of my own. I want to share a draft of the first chapter with you now, if you don't mind.
Here’s a bit of a backstory: It’s about a girl—stay with me—and she’s in love with this boy, but he’s not a boy, he’s a vampire. And he’s actually obsessed with the scent of her blood, and it drives him into a sexual frenzy, but he can’t have it or she’ll die. It’s a huge metaphor for blue balls. This is called…
Beaut walked into her house in Spoons, Alaska, and the slamming of the door behind her was almost too much too bear. Although Gregory had just dropped her off 10 minutes ago, it felt like an eternity had already gone by.
Eternity.
That’s all Beaut was asking for. She couldn’t understand why Gregory wouldn’t justbone bite her just once, so she could become like him.
“Beaut, you okay?” Beaut realized she had been standing in front of the door with her eyes closed, lightly swaying, and almost touching her budding breasts. Her father Matt’s gruff, depression-tinged voice snapped her out of her thoughts of Gregory. Matt was a security guard at the local iHop, but everyone in the town came to enforce the law. At the moment he was holding a machete, which he’d been sharpening in the garage before he heard Beaut come in.
“Yeah, Dad, sorry.” She walked into the kitchen and set her bag on the table, turning immediately to the refrigerator. Hopefully he couldn’t see her bright red face.
Her red face.
Embarrassment was the only time Beaut’s pale skin got any color. Well, unless she was with Gregory. One look into his liquid topaz eyes and her face instantly flushed like a toilet—a toilet full of emotion. All of her lips swelled, and she wanted nothing more than to be close to him. But she knew her greatest desire—and Gregory’s, too—could be the very end of them.
You see, Gregory was a vampire. A 347-year-old vampire who didn’t look a day over 18. In fact, he was gorgeous in every sense of the word. His smooth Caucasian skin was colder than the Alaskan winter, but when he stepped into the sunlight, he shone like an Atlantic City stripper dipped in body glitter. Beaut could recall the first day she met Gregory. They were sitting in biology, studying human reproduction, and he refused to look at her. He was shaking slightly, and Beaut thought that maybe the diagrams had him aroused. She tried to ignore it, and smiled, but he just looked away. When class ended, he stormed out—but she could still see the protrusion through his denim cutoffs.
Just then, the phone rang, calling Beaut back to reality. She sprang up to answer it, hoping it was Gregory.
“Hello?” she panted desperately, like a crack addict hoping her dealer had the goods….of sex.
“Hey, Beaut, what’s up?” It was Noah, Beaut’s friend who lived in the trailer park a few miles down. Noah was Beaut’s only friend, and her heart welled up when she heard his voice. She could almost feel his burning hot satiny copper skin and his liquid onyx eyes on her as he spoke.
She walked into the living room, trying to avoid her dad’s gaze. It made him too happy when he knew Noah and Beaut were hanging out, and Beaut couldn’t explain why it was never going to happen.
You see, Noah was a werewolf. And there existed a decades-old feud between the werewolves and vampires—you know, like in the movie “Underworld.” Although it was scary, to her he was the same old tall, lanky, russet-colored Noah, and she loved him.
But not as much as she loved Gregory. Of this she was certain. After their chat Beaut got to work making dinner for her father, who was now sitting on a bearskin rug in the living room, wearing a loincloth. As she gutted the fish he’d caught the day before, the soft, wet insides of the fish mimicked her own softness and wetness, and her thoughts floated again to Gregory.
It was almost 6pm, and she knew Gregory would come to her room after she went to bed. Until then, she would have to keep her mind occupied with dinner, homework, and re-caulking the windows.
Beaut went to bed a little after 10. She was tired, but unable to close her eyes. She changed into the pink nightie she’d purchased at Victoria’s Secret a few weeks before, but hid under the covers. She wanted to tempt Gregory, but not too much. She closed her eyes and found herself drifting off to dreamland despite herself.
That night Beaut dreamed she was in the forest with Gregory. They’d gotten there quickly, her riding on his back. As they came to a clearing he slowed and lowered her to the ground. As she climbed down, they both noticed a wet spot on his back, where hervagina legs had been wrapped around him.
“Sorry,” she said sheepishly.
Gregory grinned, the crooked smile Beaut loved. The fire from his liquid topaz eyes smoldered, lighting the embers that, before him, had died in the campfire of her heart. Even though she knew it would be trouble, she couldn’t help but want s’more.
“It’s okay,” he said.
He put his arms around her waist, and Beaut felt agiant throbbing surge of emotions. In one swift, confident movement, he lowered her to the ground and before she could catch her breath, her top was off, revealing her My Little Pony bra.
Gregory lowered his face to her neck, and Beaut instinctively lifted her hips. She could feel his breath on her neck as he took in her scent. He continued to move southward, and Beaut didn’t stop him. He reached hercrotchal region love garden, and suddenly, Gregory turned angry. He looked up at her, his eyes turning red with fury.
“Beaut, why didn’t you tell me?!” He jumped up and walked away.
“I’m…I’m sorry…I forgot. I thought I was just spotting.”
Beaut had forgotten she had her period, and didn’t warn Gregory. It was always hard for him to be around her during her time of the month. As if the cramps, bloating, and fatigue in those 5 days weren’t enough for Beaut to deal with, she had to be separated from the only thing that mattered to her.
“Gregory, come back!!” Beaut yelled as she scrambled to get dressed. She couldn’t see him anywhere. She began to panic, and being the helpless twit she was, sat and sobbed, praying that Gregory would return.
Just then, Beaut woke up to feel an icy hand on her neck.
“Beaut, wake up,” Gregory said softly. She was shaking in bed, and he was worried. She opened her eyes slowly, making sure she was no longer dreaming. She smiled weakly. “Are you okay?” Gregory asked, concerned. Beaut sighed.
“I can’t even have all of you in my dreams,” Beaut answered, sitting upright.
Gregory saw her pink nightie and looked away, shyly. Beaut also became sheepish.
“You know if there was any way, I would—“ Gregory began.
“There is a way!” Beaut interrupted him.
“I can’t do that to you,” Gregory’s voice, which normally sounded like hot butter melting on a stack of iHop pancakes, became hard. “I want you to live. To have a soul. To not look like you’re going to a boy band concert every time you step out into the sunlight.”
Just then, Beaut kissed him, hoping her lips could change his mind.
They couldn’t.
So that's what happening folks. What do you think? It's currently slated for a Winter 2009 release.
AUTHOR'S NOTE, 10/19/09: Here's chapter 2!
Here’s a bit of a backstory: It’s about a girl—stay with me—and she’s in love with this boy, but he’s not a boy, he’s a vampire. And he’s actually obsessed with the scent of her blood, and it drives him into a sexual frenzy, but he can’t have it or she’ll die. It’s a huge metaphor for blue balls. This is called…
DUSK
Beaut walked into her house in Spoons, Alaska, and the slamming of the door behind her was almost too much too bear. Although Gregory had just dropped her off 10 minutes ago, it felt like an eternity had already gone by.
Eternity.
That’s all Beaut was asking for. She couldn’t understand why Gregory wouldn’t just
“Beaut, you okay?” Beaut realized she had been standing in front of the door with her eyes closed, lightly swaying, and almost touching her budding breasts. Her father Matt’s gruff, depression-tinged voice snapped her out of her thoughts of Gregory. Matt was a security guard at the local iHop, but everyone in the town came to enforce the law. At the moment he was holding a machete, which he’d been sharpening in the garage before he heard Beaut come in.
“Yeah, Dad, sorry.” She walked into the kitchen and set her bag on the table, turning immediately to the refrigerator. Hopefully he couldn’t see her bright red face.
Her red face.
Embarrassment was the only time Beaut’s pale skin got any color. Well, unless she was with Gregory. One look into his liquid topaz eyes and her face instantly flushed like a toilet—a toilet full of emotion. All of her lips swelled, and she wanted nothing more than to be close to him. But she knew her greatest desire—and Gregory’s, too—could be the very end of them.
You see, Gregory was a vampire. A 347-year-old vampire who didn’t look a day over 18. In fact, he was gorgeous in every sense of the word. His smooth Caucasian skin was colder than the Alaskan winter, but when he stepped into the sunlight, he shone like an Atlantic City stripper dipped in body glitter. Beaut could recall the first day she met Gregory. They were sitting in biology, studying human reproduction, and he refused to look at her. He was shaking slightly, and Beaut thought that maybe the diagrams had him aroused. She tried to ignore it, and smiled, but he just looked away. When class ended, he stormed out—but she could still see the protrusion through his denim cutoffs.
Just then, the phone rang, calling Beaut back to reality. She sprang up to answer it, hoping it was Gregory.
“Hello?” she panted desperately, like a crack addict hoping her dealer had the goods….of sex.
“Hey, Beaut, what’s up?” It was Noah, Beaut’s friend who lived in the trailer park a few miles down. Noah was Beaut’s only friend, and her heart welled up when she heard his voice. She could almost feel his burning hot satiny copper skin and his liquid onyx eyes on her as he spoke.
She walked into the living room, trying to avoid her dad’s gaze. It made him too happy when he knew Noah and Beaut were hanging out, and Beaut couldn’t explain why it was never going to happen.
You see, Noah was a werewolf. And there existed a decades-old feud between the werewolves and vampires—
But not as much as she loved Gregory. Of this she was certain. After their chat Beaut got to work making dinner for her father, who was now sitting on a bearskin rug in the living room, wearing a loincloth. As she gutted the fish he’d caught the day before, the soft, wet insides of the fish mimicked her own softness and wetness, and her thoughts floated again to Gregory.
It was almost 6pm, and she knew Gregory would come to her room after she went to bed. Until then, she would have to keep her mind occupied with dinner, homework, and re-caulking the windows.
Beaut went to bed a little after 10. She was tired, but unable to close her eyes. She changed into the pink nightie she’d purchased at Victoria’s Secret a few weeks before, but hid under the covers. She wanted to tempt Gregory, but not too much. She closed her eyes and found herself drifting off to dreamland despite herself.
That night Beaut dreamed she was in the forest with Gregory. They’d gotten there quickly, her riding on his back. As they came to a clearing he slowed and lowered her to the ground. As she climbed down, they both noticed a wet spot on his back, where her
“Sorry,” she said sheepishly.
Gregory grinned, the crooked smile Beaut loved. The fire from his liquid topaz eyes smoldered, lighting the embers that, before him, had died in the campfire of her heart. Even though she knew it would be trouble, she couldn’t help but want s’more.
“It’s okay,” he said.
He put his arms around her waist, and Beaut felt a
Gregory lowered his face to her neck, and Beaut instinctively lifted her hips. She could feel his breath on her neck as he took in her scent. He continued to move southward, and Beaut didn’t stop him. He reached her
“Beaut, why didn’t you tell me?!” He jumped up and walked away.
“I’m…I’m sorry…I forgot. I thought I was just spotting.”
Beaut had forgotten she had her period, and didn’t warn Gregory. It was always hard for him to be around her during her time of the month. As if the cramps, bloating, and fatigue in those 5 days weren’t enough for Beaut to deal with, she had to be separated from the only thing that mattered to her.
“Gregory, come back!!” Beaut yelled as she scrambled to get dressed. She couldn’t see him anywhere. She began to panic, and being the helpless twit she was, sat and sobbed, praying that Gregory would return.
Just then, Beaut woke up to feel an icy hand on her neck.
“Beaut, wake up,” Gregory said softly. She was shaking in bed, and he was worried. She opened her eyes slowly, making sure she was no longer dreaming. She smiled weakly. “Are you okay?” Gregory asked, concerned. Beaut sighed.
“I can’t even have all of you in my dreams,” Beaut answered, sitting upright.
Gregory saw her pink nightie and looked away, shyly. Beaut also became sheepish.
“You know if there was any way, I would—“ Gregory began.
“There is a way!” Beaut interrupted him.
“I can’t do that to you,” Gregory’s voice, which normally sounded like hot butter melting on a stack of iHop pancakes, became hard. “I want you to live. To have a soul. To not look like you’re going to a boy band concert every time you step out into the sunlight.”
Just then, Beaut kissed him, hoping her lips could change his mind.
They couldn’t.
So that's what happening folks. What do you think? It's currently slated for a Winter 2009 release.
AUTHOR'S NOTE, 10/19/09: Here's chapter 2!
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