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Saturday, November 15, 2014


Welcome, thanks for coming. Here are some of my latest photos of Central Park. It's stunning this time of year and I'm so happy to share it with you. Let me leash up Homer to walk with us and enjoy the colorful scenery.
Another turret of The Museum of Natural History

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Monday, November 10, 2014

Welcome! It's picture prompt week this week. That means only 300 words, too. Don't forget to visit the rest of the talented Tuesday Tales authors, scroll down for the link. 
Giselle wrapped her fingers around the large mug of hot chocolate and stared into the fire. The Will Benson she had loved didn't exist anymore. Mesmerized by the dancing flames, her mind drifted back to five years ago, and lazy summer Saturdays spent with him. 
   The old house they believed was haunted when they were kids had become a place to hang out, to hide from prying, adult eyes. Giselle and Will would slip on bathing suits, go for a swim, then dry off in the house. Sometimes they made love there. She smiled as she remembered losing her virginity to Will in the old house when she was seventeen. 
    He had been so sweet, careful and sensitive to her feelings. He never pushed her. But her natural desire for him urged her along, trusting her most precious possession to him. 
    She tried not to be shy, but didn't quite succeed. He turned his back as she got undressed, then tossed her his shirt.
    "Are you sure you want to do this? You don't have to. You'll still be my girl."
    "I don't want you to have regrets."
    She had shut him up with a kiss and rest was history. 
    What had happened to destroy that wonderful young man and put this angry soul in his place? Giselle wanted to be the key that unlocked the door to the Will Benson she loved.
    The creak of the rusty hinges alerted her. She shifted under the blanket. Will crouched down. He combed her hair back from her face with his fingers. She palmed his cheek.TU
    "Are you real?"
    His smile was dazzling. "I will be if you convince me you're not leaving."
    When a log let out a loud crack, she awoke with a start. She was alone.