Tuesday, August 27, 2013

Fellow Fan-Fiction Writer Appreciation Week (3)

STORIES THAT WE LOVE TO READ...AND REREAD...AND REREAD...




1. Never on my mind: (In-Progress)



Chapter One – Unforgettable Forgotten

For·get [fer-get], verb:

1.To cease or fail to remember;be unable to recall: to forget someone's name.

Prologue

He never paid attention to Sam's imprint. Emily was great and all, but the actual act of imprinting...not so much. It was fraught with too much drama, tinged constantly with angst and regret. Jared and Kim, however, were another matter. Their imprinting had taken instantly, with nothing standing in their way. It had been, from the very moment, all rainbows and butterflies.

It made him wonder sometimes. Because for all that Jared never made a move, he saw Kim. And Kim saw him; that was a well known fact now. No one knew it quite like Paul, though. Jared was stoic in his interest, like he was stoic in everything else. The man was a mask of cool iron; he showed nothing. But Paul saw it. He'd known Jared since before they could wipe their own asses. Their mothers were the best of friends. Jared's mom had baby sat Paul for years. It was sort of destined that they'd end up so close it bordered on bloodless brothers. Paul knew Jared just as well as Jared knew himself.

Jared adored Kim. From a distance that was. Paul hadn't quite understood it; Kim seemed so plain to him. Surely Jared deserved something more than plain? Than again, Paul was sure he saw Jared in a different light. That was his best friend, his brother; no one would ever really be good enough. Paul asked Jared of course. 'What is it about her that has you making that stupid fucking face?'

Jared had wiped the sappy expression off his face and laugh. 'I don't know. There's just something about her. I just...I don't know. But I'm going to marry her one day, Paul. Watch me. I will'.

At that point, Paul punched him in the arm, called him a pussy, and told him to hit that shit already. As with any other time he'd said as much, Jared's eyes went a little darker, and his mouth fell into a frown. 'It's not the right time,' he said, in a voice the never really sounded like his own.

Paul hadn't understood then, but he did now.

Imprinting. If Sam had ever been given the chance to meet Emily sooner, he would have felt it. He would have known, just like Jared had always known that Kim was it for him. Even when he hadn't.

He had been so sure that Black would imprint on Swan. He was so fixated. He already looked at her like she hanged the fucking moon. He had the same sappy expression Jared had, before imprinting, before wolves and vampires. Just...innocent, unadulterated want.

He watched them a lot, and maybe that should have been his first clue. Looking back, he wondered what expression his face held. He watched them, under the order of Sam, eyes intent for danger. Black would be phasing soon; it was inevitable. The heat, the growth, the hunger, the anger; it was all there. Paul was glad. Maybe Embry would shut the fuck up already. He was pretty sick of the bitching and moaning.

Just thinking like that made him wince. Paul had been third to phase. Jared had went before him, and Paul had been in Jacob's shoes; abandoned and confused. He knew without a doubt -courtesy of pack mind- that Jared went through the same thing Embry was currently going through. The gut eating guilt. Paul had forgiven him of course, not that there was much to forgive. You couldn't blame a man for things out of his control.

He thought that maybe it was the girl holding Jacob back. Jacob should have phased much sooner. He was of the Alpha line, after all. Paul wasn't nearly as freaked out by that as some of the others. Even if Black wanted to take the proverbial furry throne, he had a long way to go before he could even dream of taking down Sam. He could try, but Paul was sure nothing would come of it for some while. Sam had a solid year on them as a wolf, and several years as human.

Black was happy. The kid wore his emotions on his face. He'd built the girl back up from the pieces Sam found on the forest floor. That image had haunted Paul; it crept into his dreams, and resonated. It fueled his hate for leeches, oil to fire. The Cullen's might be tamed, but they only proved how much more dangerous that made them. Not all wounds left blood and scars. They'd all but killed the Swan Girl without ever setting teeth to skin. They were the worst kind of leeches, the kind that played pretend. Wolves in sheep's clothing would be the appropriate term, were the situation anything else.

The girl was better, but better was a relative term. Better than what? Dead? Black might have done a lot to put a smile on the girl's face, but it hardly looked like he was doing anything to put food in her damn mouth, or soul behind her eyes. She looked decayed, rotted from the inside out. But Jacob did make her smile.

That seemed important.

Paul should have seen the signs. But he didn't.

No one did.
 







BPOV

"Dammit!" I yelled, pulling my truck over to the side of the road. The damn thing was smoking AGAIN. And I'd just taken it to a mechanic a week ago! Impatiently I sighed, and got out to lift the hood. The only problem is that I haven't a clue about cars or what could possibly be wrong with it.

I'd taken my truck to every body shop in Forks, and there weren't many. The only one I hadn't visited was the one owned by the Black's. A Quileute family. Why you might ask? I'll tell you. The head mechanic's name is Jacob Black. He's an arrogant, self-centered, cocky, son of a bitch with a nasty attitude. He thinks just because he's had about every girl down in La Push that he's the shit. Well I'll tell you this much, he isn't. Even though he's tried a few times to get in my pants and I didn't let it happen...because...well...I don't have much of a reason.

Jacob Black is every woman's fantasy. Pounds of beautiful muscle. A lovely 8-pack ab set. Long, dark brown wavy hair. Perfect teeth. Deep brown eyes that smoldered...and a smile that said "Fuck me Bella. You know you want to." Not that I'm lusting or anything. The guy is a total jerk and tries to molest me every time he sees me in Forks. There's no way I'm taking my truck to him.

I heard the sound of tires crunching pavement behind me and turned to see a tow truck pulling up to me. I sighed in relief and walked around to see who my savior was. There in the driver seat was another gorgeous Quileute boy. He had the same russet skin of Jacob, same build, same eyes, and yet he was not Jacob at all.

"Having car trouble?" he asked in a husky tone.

I rolled my eyes. "Well DUH. Can you help me or not?"

He climbed out of the truck grinning from ear to ear. "Of course I can help. I'm Paul by the way."

"Bella," I said impatiently, extending my hand.

He took it, and brought it to his lips. "Your last name wouldn't be Swan would it?"

"Yeah...why?" I asked, curiously.

He smirked. "Just wondering is all. Now let me help you with your truck here. I can tow it to the nearest body shop for free if you'd like."

I hesitated, knowing Jacob's body shop was the closest. Damn my luck. I just had to break down right near La Push. But I couldn't exactly explain to Paul why I didn't want to head over there. I suppose I'll just have to grin and bear it, I thought to myself. Besides, while Jake is working I can leave the shop and maybe take a walk along La Push beach. Then there will be no worries about him seducing me. Not that he could... I'm not that easy. I sighed.

"Alright...let's go," I told Paul.

Once my truck was set, I climbed into the passenger seat of his tow truck, sitting as far from him as possible after shutting the door. Paul smiled at me.

"I won't bite you know," he said.

"Yeah...I know."

"Then why the distance between us?"

I shrugged quietly.

He watched me for a moment. "Is there a reason you don't want to go to Jacob's body shop?"

I stared back at him; horrified that he'd nearly read my thoughts. "What?"

"Don't play innocent with me Bella. I can tell you don't want to go there. Do you have some sort of beef with the Black family?"

I sighed. "No. I just...would rather go somewhere else."

"Jacob is the best mechanic in all of Forks, and if you don't mind my asking, when was the last time you had your truck looked at?"

"One week ago."

Paul chuckled. "Well if you let Black fix up your car, you'll be back on the road in no time, and for longer than a week."

"Great," I mumbled sarcastically. The truth is, I didn't know why I was so hesitant to go. Oh right. Because Jacob Black is a total dick. Who I happen to be lusting over. Slightly.

It was only a ten minute ride to Jacob's garage, but it felt like hours. The last time I saw him...he was less than pleasant toward me. It was about two weeks ago, Jacob had dropped by my house to fix a flat tire on my father Charlie's police cruiser.
 
                                                        [Continued...]

3. Miror Quaenam Sis Tam: (Complete)



"Bella, don't do this. For me. Please." The voice was just a whisper, fading away with the wind in the trees.

"You won't stay with me any other way," I reminded Edward, standing poised on the cliff's edge. The black water churned below. I stopped, suddenly afraid, but then remembered that the sooner I jumped the sooner I could climb to the top again and hear his voice once more. I slipped off my shoes and inched closer, curling my toes around the rocks. I took a deep breath, and leaned forward.

Pain.

My whole world was pain. It wasn't the sort of pain I'd expected, the pain that came from slapping against the surface tension of the water. It was a lot more specific, located mostly in my head. I wasn't wet, either, I was still on dry land. Something had shoved me sideways just as I'd been about to tumble off the edge. I opened my eyes—when had I closed them?—to see two furious brown eyes returning their gaze.

"You stupid shit," he ground out. "What the fuck were you thinking?"

"P-Paul?" I whimpered. "When did you—"

He was staring at me. He didn't say anything, but his jaw dropped open and a dazed look took over the angular face I'd previously only seen glaring through or past me in anger. I felt… hot. As hot as if someone had dipped me in a Jacuzzi. The chill from my damp clothes seemed to evaporate under his gaze—in fact, the clothes themselves might've disappeared too, as he raked me up and down with his eyes. An invisible luminescence seemed to accompany the heat; I could feel something radiating through me from head to toe.

"Why are you here?" I tried again.

"You moronic, selfish little leech fucker!" he roared, picking up where he'd left off. He grabbed my shoulders and shook me. "What the hell did you think was going to happen down there? That water's so rough that even your precious fucking Jacob wouldn't try to jump today! Are you trying to kill yourself and make it look like an accident?"

"No-o-o," I tried to say, but my head flopping back and forth made it hard for me to talk. "Ow—oh—Paul, stop!"

He froze, and then drew in a shaking breath. His hands trembled as he gathered me up off the ground. For an instant so brief I might have imagined it, he held me against his bare torso, and then set me on my feet away from him with a thud. "If you weren't trying to kill yourself," he growled through gritted teeth, "then can I ask what the fuck you wanted to do? Is this why Jacob had me watch out for you today? Did you tell him you were going to try to win the Darwin award or something? Jesus, did screwing the tick suck out your brains too?"

"I didn't screw Edward!" I shrieked, shoving away the hand he'd left on my waist to steady me. "I told you before, asshole; you—don't—know—anything about me!" The heat had vanished; in its place cold, dark despair burgeoned from the hole in my chest.

He flinched, but he still looked livid. "Who were you talking to?"

"Talking to?" I held my head between my hands, trying to press against the pain. "I… I wasn't talking to anyone."

"Don't fucking lie to me, goddammit," he gritted out, stepping into my space again. I backed away a step; he followed. "Who won't stay with you any other way?"

I felt tears well up in my eyes. My secret joy, my secret shame—one and the same thing, and Paul of all people had to be the one to out me. "That's none of your business."

He snorted his disgust. "Let me guess. The leech. You're talking to the fuckwad. I knew he was telepathic but that's some connection, babe."

I couldn't stop the sob that escaped my lips. "You idiot. I don't have a connection like that with him. His powers didn't work on me. I'm the only one they didn't work on. And anyway he couldn't talk back with his mind; he could only hear."

He stepped even closer. I defensively raised my hands to hold him off, but they came to rest on his hard-muscled stomach instead. I could feel his pulse racing under my touch. His chest heaved as he dragged air into his lungs. I'd scared him, I realized with a flash of intuition. He got mad when he got scared; that's all this was. I tried to back away one more time, but my rear hit up against a tree trunk. Cornered.

"If you weren't talking to him, then why did you say that?" he asked, leaning closer, one arm over my head resting on the tree behind me.

Ooh, he was so warm. I'd been cold for months, a year, ever since I'd moved to Forks, and now warmth radiated from his big body, flooding me with comfort from head to toe. My hands didn't feel right where they were; I slid them down his front, then around his waist to pull him closer. No, wait. That wasn't what I wanted to do. I tried to pull away, but he grabbed the wrist closest to his free arm and held it against him, then tugged me nearer, moving up at the same time until I was pressed between his body and the tree. "I don't… know…" I murmured, dazed, and I spoke the truth. My heart began to pound; I realized with a distant sort of wonder that it had returned to its place. "Paul, you feel… I don't understand, but… I can breathe now for the first time in forever."

"Can you?" he asked, affecting disinterest, but I could tell he cared because he rested the palm of his hand just under my collarbone, feeling the air move in and out. More hot spirals pushed through my skin, into the center of my being. I felt like I'd been trapped in winter, and now spring had come with a brutal heat wave.
 
                                                           [Continued...]

4. Shade's of Gray: (Complete)



Prologue

It was mid morning exactly one week to the day after I left my apartment in New York, before I saw the sign that read Welcome to Forks, population 3256. I breathed a sigh of relief. It had been a long week and I was almost home. I passed the house where I lived for the last three years of my high school experience and saw that a new family had moved in. There was a tricycle in the front yard and on the ground beside it was a basketball. I drove through town and noticed that not much had changed. A few miles down the road and I turned off Hwy 101 and onto county road 110. Now I was headed out toward La Push Reservation, and hopefully some answers.

It was going to seem strange, to think about La Push being home now instead of Forks. Although I had never lived in La Push before, it was a place that I knew well. My dad Charlie and his new wife Sue had a small house on the reservation. They had just gotten married about six months ago. My best friend Jacob and my honorary Uncle also live on the reservation. I have known Jacob and his father Billy for most of my life. Jacob is the one person who knew almost everything about me. Billy is technically the Chief of the tribe. I hoped that he would be able to provide me with the answers that I needed; the answers that I had driven across the country to find. The ones that were essential to the well being of the little boy asleep in the back seat of the car. The answers I needed to help my son, CJ.

The little red house came into view and I pulled over. The Rabbit that Jacob had rebuilt along with the old rusted out truck that I had owned, were both in the driveway. I got out of the car and stretched before I opened the back door and unbuckled my sleeping angel. I smiled as I removed the evidence of CJ's snacks. There were crumbs from cheese curls and cookies, a couple of grapes and part of a squished banana. I wiped the drool off his chin and picked him up. His weight was a comfort to me as he snuggled his head into my neck. He had grown so much lately that it was difficult for me to carry him. Even now, at only a little over three years old I struggled to hold onto him. I limped toward the front door, the stitches and long drive had combined to make my leg sore and hard to walk on.

The door opened and a loud voice yelled, "Bells, loca, we weren't expecting you." His big arms picked up both me and CJ and wrapped us in a warm and comfortable embrace. I inhaled deeply and took in the outdoorsy scent that belonged to Jacob. The scent that made me think of home.

I allowed myself to be held for a moment before I answered, "Hey Jake, yeah… I really wasn't expecting to be here just yet. Some things came up and CJ and I just… well, we needed to make the trip."

Jacob leaned back and looked into my eyes, I'm not sure what he saw, but apparently it was enough. "It's going to be alright honey, whatever it is, we can handle it. Do you need me to get anything out of the car?" he asked.

"No," I said, "just take CJ for me while I get his bag out of the back seat and my purse and keys if you don't mind. Is Billy inside?" I asked as he took my sleeping son from me and started to walk toward the door.

He stood on the porch and waited, as he watched me get our things from the car. When I turned back to look at him he said, "Yeah, he's inside. Did Dad know you were coming?"

"Nope," I said, popping the p. "No one did."

"Here Bells, come on in. I'm going to lay CJ down and get Dad for you," he answered. "What happened to your leg?" he asked as he walked down the hallway.

"It has to do with why I'm here," I explained as I entered through the front door and looked around. The room had stayed the same. The same pictures were on the walls and the same wooden carvings on the mantle above the fireplace. The same somewhat worn but still comfortable couch, the lamps and tables, the recliner and threadbare rug, nothing much had changed. Nothing that is, except for the 48 inch flat screen TV that was mounted on the wall. I should have known in a bachelor house the TV would be the most important thing. I walked down the hallway toward the kitchen, turned through the doorway and into the room, and there he was. The man I had come to see, Billy Black.
              
                                                                [Continued...]

                                               More to come!!

No comments:

Post a Comment