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Affirmative Spirit

~ Cry a little, Laugh a lot, Love often ~Addison G.

Affirmative Spirit

Tag Archives: books

A quick snapshot

02 Sunday Oct 2016

Posted by graynoted in ADULTS, Blog, Heart rendering, people

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Tags

Blog, books, email, novel, snippet

I’ve been asked by many, what I do? I write for a publishing house who wouldn’t want me to divulge their brand.  My blog began as a way of self expression, later morphing into a combination of readers who write to me and my experiences. I’ve written many articles that are  proof read by editors and their assistants, thus my blogs contains errors galore, but I think that gives it a homey, believable feel.  I’m currently working on a novel. Because of your inquires I’ve decided to share one snippet with you. I’ve chosen this page because…well I’ll let you see for yourself.  I’ll be back in a few with more adventures from the world of internet dalliances, fornication and hookups (fall has been fruitful).  Until then enjoy the snippet…

The cool air moving across Amanda’s face was a welcomed relief, compared to the sweat rolling down her arms. She pedaled at moderate pace, with slow deliberate breaths. The path was dimly lit, flat and smooth, against the dark back drop of the park. The tall trees were a canopy, shielding the night sky. She made good time creating distance between her and the house she fled. She pedaled faster.

She attempted to adjust her ball cap. The bike began to wobble as she realized her hands, her legs were trembling and her heart was pounding loudly in her ears. With a deep breath Amanda steadied herself, adjusted the cap tighter. With more control she pedaled forward.

Amanda dared not look behind her fearing she would slow her progress. Just ahead she could see the red glow as it came into view. The first of three traffic signals. Not wanting to decrease her speed, she willed the light to turn green as she drew closer to the intersection. Just as she began to coast, the light signaled green, as she glided effortlessly across the brightly lit intersection that was miraculously void of vehicles.
The bike path took a western route, Amanda veered north, deciding the confines of the sidewalk would be better than the street, using the parked cars as a buffer to any oncoming traffic. It slowed her pace a little. The black hat, jacket and pants made her almost invisible to the traffic on the street, as she calmly breezed through intersections two and three.

Eager to proceed to her next phase. Hopping off the bike at a running pace, she quickly steered it into the tall bushes of an abandon house. Behind the over grown thicket of brush laid her backpack. She quickly began to strip, putting each article of clothing, and shoes, in a separate plastic bag, she had retrieved from the pack. Standing naked and cold, she removed the gun from the pouch on the bike, put it in a cloth bag and the pouch in a plastic bag. Finally removing her leather gloves, carefully folding them inside out, adding them to the plastic bag with the pouch. Taking fresh garments from the backpack, she checked the watched in her pants pocket. She would need to move quickly to discard the bags before boarding the bus back to the city.      ©️ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

..

Addie

Hey, how’s it going? The proper way to answer a friends call.

26 Saturday Oct 2013

Posted by graynoted in Uncategorized

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Tags

airport, books, cab, detective, hello, Jamaica, phone calls, pot, relationship, rum

I got a call from an old boyfriend yesterday. I was momentarily tempted not to answer. I could have easily let it go to voice mail, waited a day and return the call, but I figure why delay the conversation.

“Hey, what’s going on?”

Here’s the thing. Everyone has caller ID–you know whose calling. Why do folks still answer as if they are clueless to who’s on the other end? It’s kinda silly to answer with the traditional “HELLO”. Here you have a friend calling you, apparently they think enough of you to make contact. The least you can do is let ’em feel the love! Let ‘me know you are happy to hear from them, even if you’re not. It’s the new age, politically correct thing to do.

He’s tickled pink, one that I answered and two, I’ve let him know I know it’s him. He responds with his usual…missing my beauty. When are you coming down to see me, spend time with me?

I’ve been there; I just didn’t want to go through the conversation of why we can’t get back together. The short version; I’ve gotten over how badly you treated me, broke my heart…yes we are friendly, we friends but not close friends by any means. I can forgive, but my heart will not allow me to forget. So naturally we’ll never get back to being intimate or a couple. So I avoid this conversation in order to keep peace and spare us the dreadful. Besides, it’s been a few years…why can’t he let it go?

Now before I say this, don’t type me. It’s purely a coincidence…When I met this guy (let’s call him Al); he’d just gotten his gold detective badge. Yeah, he’s a cop. We literally ran into each other at a Barnes & Noble. I was thumbing through a book I was about to buy, he turn the corner and knocked the book my purse to the floor. We both knelled to retrieve his book my book and purse.

I’m a flight attendant, I’m astute and observant. I know how to see something without letting on.

While we were kneeled awkwardly on the floor I spot his gold badge on his belt. I assumed his gun was under his sport jacket. His dark brown hair was neatly groomed, his shoes were shined, his nails were trimmed and clean. These are the things I look at, they tell me a lot about a man and his smile was warm and inviting. His blue eyes seemed to look through me. I could feel my cheeks getting warm. My first instinct was to gather my purse and run. I knew if I stayed I may be in trouble.

He apologized; I accepted and turned to walk away. I headed to the store’s cafe ordered a hot tea to finish thumbing through the book. A few minutes later he showed up holding a plate with a scone, two forks and cup of tea. He asked if he could sit, share his scone. He introduced himself, omitting the title. We talked for about an hour and I knew at that point I could not run, I had no where to hide.

We chatted regularly by phone, often for an hour or more. He romanced me, I surrendered to him. After a few weeks I took a few days off and flew into town, to spend time with this guy. We were together as a couple for two years. On my first three visits I stayed in a hotel…after that I stayed with him. I often would arrange my flight schedule to be in his city. I’d leave the terminal, head to his home as if it were my home and depart from his house to go to back to the terminal. I had clothes, uniform and a tea cup in his cupboard. It was my home away from home. I juggled a lot to be with him. He told me often how much he loved me. How thankful he was to have my unconditional love. We were happy.

Or so I thought…

Of course I had a key. I’d all but moved to the city. He’d leave his car in the employee parking for my arrival. His car had an employee sticker. I had a set of car keys. He worked long hours and I would shop, prepare dinner and wait. I’d do laundry. Change linen.

Why would I feel I’d need to call?

I’d started the day with a 5:50am flight…the first two legs were great, on time…a storm cell was moving south canceling flights in it’s wake. Our schedule was 2 hours behind when we were able to land in the city where my home away from home was located. My one remaining leg was cancelled. I had the next 3 days off. I left the main terminal through the baggage claim area, hailed a cab heading for my home away from home. I didn’t call, I knew he was at work. I’d shower, change, grocery shop and prepare a great meal.

The cab pulled up. His car was in the driveway, as I expected it to be. I paid the driver, pulled out my key, inserted it in the door knob, opened the door…

There was a trail of clothes. Shoes…shirt…jacket…slacks…skirt…blouse…heels…purse…bra…panties…briefs…loud noises from the bedroom. The door was open. I stood there, wheels (suitcase) still in hand. They were so far into throws of sex they didn’t see me…didn’t hear me…heading out the door, careful not to slam it shut. I walked several blocks, no tears, lacking emotion, in shock. Really, are you fucking kidding me?!! Under normal circumstances, I would have striped and joined them. But, that wasn’t who we were. He’d talked extensively about monogamy, being faithful, trust, being Exclusive. This was what he wanted our relationship to be. He’d heard the stories about flight attendants, pilots on layovers, the mile high adventures. I assured him I wouldn’t be that girl–I’d made a rule long ago, no dipping in company ink…play separate from business. So, I made myself off limits to the ol’ gang…they respected my new found relationship.

I pulled out my cell, called another cab…headed to a hotel on the flight line of the airport. I checked in, headed to my room, called room service, ordered dinner and a bottle of wine–one glass. I showered forever, letting the hot steamy water run over me, as if it were washing away the last two years of my life. I wrapped myself in towels opened the bottle, munched on bread, picked at my dinner while watching the evening news…the storm had arrived…I didn’t give a shit. I fell asleep, in a deep sleep until the cell phone on the night stand woke me…Al. I didn’t answer…half hour later…Al. This went on until I turned the phone off. It was after midnight. A new day…another shower, dried my hair, put on a fresh uniform, headed down stairs, checked out and shuttled to the airport’s crew lounge. Getting home wasn’t a biggie, there was always a dead-head crew heading to my home base.

I’d forgotten that I’d turned my phone off. It was dawn when I stepped off the employee shuttle to my car. I turn the key the motor idled, I turned on my phone…voice mail was full, countless calls from Al. I drove home…

The next day I flew to Jamaica…to meet the ol’ gang. Three days of dancing, topless beaching, sailing, smoking pot & drinking rum…

It would be 9 days before I’d answer his call. I was in San Francisco. He lied at first…then he confessed…he cried…he promised…I said I’d think about it…I tried by visiting two weeks later. I ended the visit by packing my things, giving him the keys to the house and the car. I called a cab and headed to the airport. It was all dignified and adult like. I was hurt…they were his rules–I’d changed for him, but I never told him that. Didn’t think I had to, now it was, too late.

Time passed, I heeled, moved on. It was a time in space that was over, I forgave. He calls we talk…it’s all very friendly…but what’s done is done, that time in space is no more. He knows he fucked up big time. He’s said as much and more…I appreciate that, but like I said; I can forgive…I answer his call; Hey, how’s it going?

In Case You Missed It

  • Man, Woman, Man, Man
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  • I love the journey…
  • Simple Arithmetic
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  • Accepting De-Nile
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Who said what

graynoted on Accepting De-Nile
thebarefootsub on Accepting De-Nile
viewsofanemergencyrn on You Can’t Go Back…
graynoted on Without Limits
web page on Without Limits
graynoted on Don’t Hate the Player, B…
graynoted on Don’t short change yours…
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  • The Erotic Writer
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1st U.S. Colored Cavalry

Private Lives, Public Records

Erotica By Cordelia

Cry a little, Laugh a lot, Love often ~Addison G.

Shades Of Erotic Poetry

Cry a little, Laugh a lot, Love often ~Addison G.

Erotic Banana

Cry a little, Laugh a lot, Love often ~Addison G.

Erotic Scribes

Cry a little, Laugh a lot, Love often ~Addison G.

Erotic Fantasy Life

BDSM & Vanilla Sexual Delights

The Erotic Writer

Three writers for the price of one blog

Overcoming Sexual Betrayal

The Asexual Agenda

Furthering upper-level discussions of asexuality

A Sexual Being

Where the lines of fantasy and reality blur…

Sexual Destinies

Cry a little, Laugh a lot, Love often ~Addison G.

Holland Rae, Writer

Romance novelist, traveler, journalist. Lover of female protagonists, spicy food, fast cars, and good books.

becauseimasexybitch

erotic short stories

fashionandlifestyleweb

1st U.S. Colored Cavalry

Private Lives, Public Records

Erotica By Cordelia

Cry a little, Laugh a lot, Love often ~Addison G.

Shades Of Erotic Poetry

Cry a little, Laugh a lot, Love often ~Addison G.

Erotic Banana

Cry a little, Laugh a lot, Love often ~Addison G.

Erotic Scribes

Cry a little, Laugh a lot, Love often ~Addison G.

Erotic Fantasy Life

BDSM & Vanilla Sexual Delights

The Erotic Writer

Three writers for the price of one blog

Overcoming Sexual Betrayal

The Asexual Agenda

Furthering upper-level discussions of asexuality

A Sexual Being

Where the lines of fantasy and reality blur…

Sexual Destinies

Cry a little, Laugh a lot, Love often ~Addison G.

Holland Rae, Writer

Romance novelist, traveler, journalist. Lover of female protagonists, spicy food, fast cars, and good books.

becauseimasexybitch

erotic short stories

fashionandlifestyleweb

Tangled Love Web

queertheorysite

The Dating Diaries

Yup. This blog is exactly what you think it is. Vivere Marie and Nova Moriarty are here to share the process of trying to figure out this thing called dating and romance. Seriously, the hell is that?! Nova Moriarty is an author of high fantasy erotica, and this blog is the epicenter of her book news and thoughts on writing.

No Nonsense with Nuwan Sen

Art Cinema & Literature site NS

vinnieh

Movie reviews and anything else that comes to mind

HG Tudor - Knowing The Narcissist - The World's No.1 Resource About Narcissism

Know everything about narcissists from the world's no.1 source. A narcissist himself.