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Showing posts from June, 2017

Fic: Will o'Wisp Chapter One

Will o’Wisp By Max
All rights reserved
Chapter One
Her voice was soft with a gentle confidence as if she knew where she stood and the entire world could tell her she was wrong, but she knew where she stood.
At seventeen, she was curved like the river, gentle and slow. Her hair, normally an aura of slow dancing chocolate electric, was tamed into a prim bun. Her eye were warm dark honey, welcoming and full of joy as she spun slowly around, her arms out to her sides, the suit was a dark blue, with black buttons down the front of the jacket and the skirt. Her elegant hands were covered in fine white doe skin gloves. As she spun, her new blue leather heels clicked on the smooth hardwood floor. Creamy pearls showed between the opening of the jacket, laying on her smooth coffee skin. Nearly giggling, she finished her turn, then did a little bounce. “Well? Do I look okay?”
I remember my Uncle telling me not to talk to the Will o’Wisp. Don’t look at him. Don’t talk to him. Don’t go near him. Don’t …

Fic: Madness - August and Anderson

Madness By Julian Maxwell
All Rights Reserved, copyright 2017

When they had started, Auggie had neat just-expelled-from-Harvard brown hair and Corey’s hair was long, red, looking like Jesus hair. They’d been two boys, a path to being a priest and a path to being a playboy.  If you add twenty years, a traumatic abduction, a nasty set of addictions,  a failed law career, an excommunication -  there is the mix of life that money and god can’t protect a heart from, a marriage that storybooks are not made of.
Now Auggie’s hair was down to his shoulders, grey at the temples.  Corey’s hair was cut short, done with a pair of clippers in their bathroom and about as even as his temper.   They stared at each other in the hall of Corey’s condo, a white button up shirt hanging from Corey’s fingers as if it were a misplaced bag of dog poop.
“What the shit is this,” Corey snarled, his green eyes narrow, thin Irish lips curling. “We had an agreement!”
August was more bulldog, wearing a suit out of a chain…

Dark Poetry 2/?

Dark Poetry
Chapter Two
by Julian Maxwell

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Chapter Two

He scratched at his palm, at this one spot that had itched since he’d woken up in the hospital. The rough edges of the now calloused little spot was almost comforting.
So there are those ideas that seem amazing when you’re standing in the bathroom naked with three days of beard on your face. Sitting down to the computer, to try to share that idea with someone else it gets a little harder.
It wasn’t like he could time travel back to that night when Oak had kissed him.  A kiss by a boy in the middle of a war that was likely to kill them and everyone they’d ever known was hardly solid intel for the state of that boy’s mind fifteen years later. Maybe Oak had grown up, gotten married, had five kids and a circus job. Maybe he was dead.
Kyo scratched at the calloused crater on his palm, tongue rubbing …