Category Archives: Fiction

In the Nexus, Worlds Collide

Ted took a drag off his cigarette and looked at Maddie a bit as if thinking about something.

“Tell me something doll. Did someone manage to stop the Germans and Hitler?”

“Yeah. Pearl Harbor got hit by the Japanese navy in December of’41, and that gave the US an excuse to get involved. There was a big push in the European theatre in 44 defined by the June D-Day invasion in Normandie. Germany surrender the next May. Then in August of 45, atom bombs were dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, Japan, effectively ending it. The Japanese surrendered a month later. My dad used to talk about what the war was like for them in occupied territory and the celebrations that occurred when the war ended. Of course, that was all short lived for them when they got booted from the Dutch East Indies when it won its independence from the Netherlands and became Indonesia.”

His jaw dropped open and he downed the rest of his scotch while she spoke.

“I knew them Ja** would be trouble. But we got em? Damn good news. That Hitler wasn’t going to stop. Not ever. Dropped the bombs? Knew FDR wouldn’t take shit from anyone. Them bombs. They as bad as some people thought?”

“Let me guess. After that was taken care of, somebody else stepped up to cause more trouble. Please tell me, we didn’t let the Germans build up and come at the world a third time?”

She reached down and pulled up the bottle of scotch once more, filling both their glasses to the half way mark. She had a feeling he was going to need it even more.

Maddie stared into the amber liquid before taking a large swallow of it. “No, it wasn’t the Germans.”

Her eyes went to her husband, the manner and method of his loss never far from her mind.

“Some people say it was because of the bombs, or maybe the experiments everyone’s governments were doing on their own people to try to stay on top. Some say it is just evolution…”

She took another long pull.

“Folks who were different, who had gifts usually relegated to the work of science fiction authors, started appearing with more frequency. The world by and large, the US political structure in particular, were very threatened by their mere existence. They wanted to either control them…”

Now she met Ted’s eyes, a quiet anger and fury burning in them. “…or wipe them out. And they didn’t care who they hurt or trampled in the process. I was a teacher at a school for gifted children in Westchester, NY until US troops invaded the school in the middle of the night and killed the students in their beds.”

The glass was tipped back and drained in one long swallow. The memories of the time were always raw and bleeding. And again, it had not been so long ago.

“If not for the quick thinking of a couple of the older students, my son would have been among the dead.”

He saw the emotion and knew he’d opened a door that he shouldn’t have busted open.

He didn’t know how people handed things like this now, but in his day, he knew what he’d do if a woman showed this kind of emotion.

He put down his glass and put an arm around her and squeezed her shoulders. If she wanted a hug, he’d wrap both of his arms around her. It wasn’t at all a sexual move. It was more like a father to a daughter.

“I’m sorry doll. Our people did that to our own. That’s a world I’m glad I didn’t get to see. Nothing can make up for that.”

She accepted the one armed offer of sympathy for what it was.

“Yeah, it’s a said state of affairs when a bunch of hard bitten mercs have more honor than ‘the greatest country in the world’.”

Her words were bitter and scorn filled. “Excuse me, Ted. I need to go hold my family.”

RVM excerpt

Rene smiled and nodded to the guard as he crossed the room and draped an arm around Vincent’s shoulders. He leaned in and spoke clearly and quietly into the other man’s ear. “If you put Madeline at greater risk by not behaving towards her as a husband would, you will regret it.”

Vincent turned enough to see the older man’s eyes, the deadly seriousness there. They, the three of them were in the middle of a delicate situation, and they were improvising. Their fourth had been delayed at the last minute, and the initial plan had already been in play. Adjustments had been made on the fly, and now the people of this town and the Commandant controlling it expected Vincent and Madeline to marry, to prove they were who they said they were, just a young couple wanting a romantic destination wedding.

The expected bridegroom’s deep voice caught on her name. “Madeline…”

The best man and supposed brother of the bride held his gaze. “Will do what is necessary. She’s a survivor.” He grinned then. “And if I know my Maddie like I think I do, she’ll enjoy herself too.”

#TalkingPoints #InKarachter Tweets

Hello, my friends!

Going to be trying something on Twitter.  I will be calling them #TalkingPoints #InKarachter tweets, and what they are meant to be at this point are dialog bits of my various characters.  It is just to see how it flows, and maybe have a bit of fun.  If anyone else who tweets might want to join in, please just use the #TalkingPoints part.

~Ividia Kt

On Character(s)

I seem to have this problem with my characters….I never can tell what it is they are going to do until they actually do it.  When I was getting ready to participate in last year’s NaNoWriMo, I kept seeing people posting and making comments about plot outlines and what not. I tried a plot outline once, had the whole story arc mapped out and everything. The story’s characters completely ignored it and me. They just didn’t get that they were supposed to be following my script…either that or they just didn’t care.

I remember reading somewhere an author talking about how her characters take on lives of their own. I think it might have been Mercedes Lackey, maybe. In any case I do know exactly what she is talking about. What I do now is point the characters in a general direction and just see what happens from there.

Oddly enough I find the same thing happens in my PBP (play by post) role playing games. I also try very hard to play true not only to the character I have written but to the surrounding story. I think that’s why one certain GM had so much fun killing me repeatedly. The first time out, though, I didn’t know the PC would live. I was fully prepared for her to die an ignominious death. I would have missed the game terribly had she died then. Of course then we would not have had the utterly dramatic scenes of her most cherished NPCs dieing. I still miss that game since it ended, but I did find a new home for her. Stories of her own … of her life before the time of the game. 🙂

Yes, I’m rambling…

Back to my written characters and the various stories they inhabit. If you are thinking about asking what will happen next, don’t bother because I have not the faintest clue. I may have a general idea of “yeah, they’re going there”, but that doesn’t mean they will. Sometimes they go quiet and won’t talk to me at all. I might as well not even exist. Then there are other times where I can actually see what is happening, and if I don’t get it written down somehow, someway they will give me no peace.

What I’m hoping this all leads to is at least one complete story eventually, as opposed to the never ending kind…you know the ones, where you get through all 1500-2000 pages then have to wait 2 years for the next part…

Currently the only ones that look like they have a chance of finishing at the Riddick non-“one shot” stories. I may just have to get some stuff up on fictionpress.com. The climbing stats and reader reviews really keep me going.

A big, heartfelt thanks to all my readers, both the reviewers and the silent majority.

One Love

Ividia

Trio

Rene glanced over at Madeline as he drove the jeep over the rutted dirt jungle road.  She had been unnaturally quiet since he had had to pry the combat knife out of her hands back at the compound.  He was worried.  He had seen her like this only a couple of times before.  He had known it would happen though, when they saw what was going on back there.  They had all gone a shade paler, but for her it was personal.

“Anything?” he asked the big man crouched in the back of the jeep watching the road behind them.

“No,” Vincent answered, his voice a low rumble.  “Looks like we’re in the clear.”

“Good.”

Keeping his eyes on the road behind them, he said, “That was some shit back there.”

“Oui,” Rene agreed.  “Yes.”

“Ain’t never seen shit like that.  Heard about it, but…”

Rene grimaced but said nothing, his eyes sliding over to his wife once again.  Her jaw was clenched, and rage still burned in her eyes.  She held on tight to the roll bar and the dash, her knuckles showing white even through the dirt, grime and blood.

Not much later, they pulled into the small village where they had set up base camp, and Rene drove the jeep to the farthest outlying abode.  Madeline exited the jeep without a word, shouldering her pack and weapons.  Rene and Vincent both watched her enter the thatched building.  Rene sighed, shouldered his own gear and followed her in.  Vincent decided to hang back with the jeep for a bit, and let the couple deal with their business.

She dropped her pack to the side and put her weapons on the table.  They needed a good cleaning, but all she did was stare at them.  Rene came up behind her and put his arms about her waist.

She leaned back against him, the last vestiges of her rage slipping away.  “If only we had gotten there sooner…”

“We did all we could, Maddie,” he told her softly.

“It’s not enough, Rene.”

“It never is, mon amour.  It never is.  Come, let’s get cleaned up.”

She turned in his arms, her green eyes meeting his grey.    He saw the haunted look there, just a glimpse of the vulnerable girl she had once been.  He cupped her face in one hand and kissed her gently.  The kiss was sweet and tender, and she gave him a small smile.

“I’ll be all right, mijn liefde,” she told him.  “Time for a vacation I think.”

His mouth quirked up in that crooked smile that always melted her.  “Some place exotic?”

It was an old joke, but it never failed to amuse.  “Ja.  Exotic.  Home.   I’m going to bathe.  You can tell Vincent it is safe to come in now.”

“Je t’aime, Maddie,” he said, sharing a kiss with her once more before releasing her.

“En ik houd u, Rene,” she answered before slipping away to the bathing room.

Rene went to the front door and opened it.  “All clear, Vincent.”

Vincent came in a moment later, burdened by his gear and a woven basket.  At Rene’s look, he explained, “The locals thought we might be hungry.”

Rene grinned.  Vincent seemed to have that effect wherever they went.  People, especially mothers and grandmothers, were always trying to feed him.  The daughters usually had other things in mind.  “Save some for us, will you?”

“You better hurry.”

They had cleaned themselves and their weapons up and now lounged about what served as a back patio.  They would pack up and head out in the evening, traveling while it was cooler.  For now, they decompressed a bit.

“Vincent?” Madeline asked.  “You got anything lined up after this?”

He shook his head.  “No.  Was going to get some down time before hanging out the shingle again.”

“We’re headed home,” Rene said.  “Why don’t you stay with us?”

“Yeah?  Won’t be no trouble?

Madeline nodded.  “Yeah.  It’s all good.  Plenty of room.”

====================

Suriname

Rene stood on the balcony that overlooked the pool watching Madeline nap in the sun.  Her olive skin bronzed and glowed with the light, highlighting every part of her.  You are beautiful, mon cher, he thought.   She stretched, cat like, and, as if she had heard him, looked up, admired his strong arms and shoulders.

“What mischief are you up to, my love?” she asked him.

“Just admiring the scenery before I finish packing.”

Now she sat up and frowned a bit.  “Packing?  Paris?”

“Oui.”

“Today…tonight, then?”

Today, in an hour.  I have to catch a flight to Rio first.”

She sighed.  “So I get to face the state jackals alone.”

He laughed.  “It is probably safer for them that way.”

“But not as much fun.”

“Why don’t you have Vincent serve as your escort.  That will set them all on their ears.”

An eye brow quirked up and she looked back over her shoulder at the muscular man floating in the pool.   It was not a bad proposition.  A devilish smile played about her lips.

The man in question opened an eye and looked from Rene to Madeline and back.  “What kind of trouble are you getting me into now, Jacobs?”

Rene’s smile was crooked and full of mischief now.  “Nothing you can’t handle, my friend.  Just a state dinner with my beautiful Madeline.”

“I’d rather be shot at,” he rumbled.

Rene laughed.

“I can arrange that,” Madeline said with a laugh of her own.  She felt much the same about the dinner.

“Can I go like this?” he asked, indicating his mostly unclothed form.

She turned to her husband.  “Which do you think would cause more of a scandal – no shirt or no pants or, horror, no jacket?”

“No jacket,” he answered simply.  “Lack of the other two will just net more income.”

Her eyes glinted with amusement and lust as she turned her attention back to Vincent.  “Rene’s right.  You could make a fortune as an escort.”

The big man actually blushed which sent Madeline into peals of laughter.  Rene laughed as well but the sound was receding.  She looked back up to the balcony then to the curving staircase to the side of it.  He was soon down on the pool level and approaching her.  He had a stunning physique and moved the grace of a hunter.  As always her breath caught at the sight of him.

“Are you sure you only have an hour, Rene?” she asked rising from the lounger, desire shining out at him from her eyes.

In answer he cupped her face with his hands and kissed her deeply.  The kiss sent tingles throughout her body, and she half purred half moaned.   He released the kiss, licking his lips.  “Turn around, my sweet?”

She gazed into his eyes for a moment, reading the thoughts there, and then slowly turned her back to him.  She faced the pool now and Vincent, who still floated in its middle.  Rene put his lips to her neck and inhaled.  She smelled of cocoa butter and spices and other intoxicating things.  His fingers moved deftly to release the strings of her suit and the fabric fell away.  His hands roamed over her oil slick skin with expert skill, massaging and caressing, giving extra attention to those places that heightened her excitement, and his lips danced and suckled at her neck and ears.  She leaned into his ministrations and moaned with pleasure as her body responded to his touch.

Vincent was frozen where he was, watching the sight unfold before him.  Madeline had always aroused his lust, but he kept it in check as difficult as it was.  She moved and behaved with a near primal sensuality that was a sweet sort of torment.  It would have been easier to not be near her, but he was a moth to her flame.  Unable to tear his eyes away, he watched even now, as her husband stoked her need, and she slowly writhed under his touch.  He could not help his own response and his hands curled and dug into the arms of the lounger raft.

Her head was titled back and her eyes closed.  Every touch elicited a moan or purr or growl.  She knew he would drive her to the edge of madness and eagerly anticipated it.  His mouth hovered over her ear, “Tell me what you want, who you want.”

She twisted her head to look into his eyes.  He knew her well, well enough to know the answer, but he wanted to hear it, wanted her to tell him.  She saw that knowledge and the acceptance of it there in his eyes.  Excitement was there as well, eagerness to hear her scream in pleasure.

“I want you, Rene, you and Vincent, to love me and to fuck me.  Here.  Now.”

Rene’s lips paused as he looked up to Vincent, an invitation clear in his eyes.  She wanted them both, and he made sure she always got what she wanted.

He whispered, “Beckon to him, my love.  Call to him.”

And she did, raising her hand to beckon to him.  As she called to Vincent, Rene caressed those special spots and his name became a moan of need.  That moan broke the last of Vincent’s restraint.  With a brief splashing of water he quickly crossed the distance between them and pulled himself up out of the pool.  He ran his hands over her stomach and breasts, lightly trailing his fingers up to the hollow of her throat.  His skin was cool from the water, and she shivered with delight at the feel of it.

Vincent slid a hand behind her neck and leaned in to taste her mouth.  Her lips eagerly sought his, tongue darting out to tickle and tease.  He caught her tongue with his lips and sucked on it, one hand tangled in her hair, the other sliding up and down her torso.  All the while he watched her expressions, seeing that she really did want him.

Rene released her into Vincent’s hold and stepped back long enough to shed his pants.  When he returned he ran his hands down her sides and hips and his lips down her spine.  She arched her back, pressing into Vincent, her moan caught by his mouth.

A Beginning

She had always been a slight girl, petite by most standards.  Dwarfed by the hospital  bed with IVs, tubing and leads draped over her, she seemed even more delicate and frail.  The nurse who came in to check on her knew she was a fighter though, otherwise the girl would be in the morgue.  Her patient did not stir as she pulled back the sheet to expose a body swathed in bandages.  She grimaced and shook her head wondering, once again, what kind of people could do such things to a mere girl.  Her thoughts did not distract her from her work though, and the dressings that needed changing were changed with practiced efficiency.  The woman went on to note her vitals which were stronger everyday and check for pressure ulcers as well as emptying the catheter bag.  She disposed of her gloves then walked softly back to the head of the bed.  With gentle fingers, she brushed the girl’s hair back from her face and whispered, “You’re a brave, girl.  Keep on fighting to come back to us.”

 

Copyright 2010 Ividia Kt