He clenched the lip of his travel mug in his teeth, juggling his laptop, guitar case, keys, and a sliding stack of setlists he’d printed out from the last ten shows. Christ, he was sick of every interview, every comment, and every email talking about the fucking setlist. He couldn’t keep everyone happy for fuck’s sake.
Dumping the lot of it on the bucket seat and floor of his rental, he pulled out of the airport. The rest of the band had headed to the hotel in the caravan of black SUV’s that was as familiar to him as his morning coffee. Sitting on the plane that whisked him from one end of the earth to the other three times over, he decided he needed some time. He had an entire day to either sit in his hotel and field calls like every other day, or...
Or he could disappear for twenty-four hours.
He’d surprised his brother, Matt, with the news as he was walking down the stairs to the tarmac. He needed to take a drive and get his head on straight. No kids, no wife, no phone calls.
He was familiar enough with the area and the GPS he’d requested for the rental would cover his bases. The Canadian highways were a little tricky, but getting lost sounded sweeter than Romeo’s laugh right about now. He stripped off his lightweight linen shirt, comfortable in the new tanks Nikki and Richie had designed for their line. He shoved oversized glasses on his face and wiggled his toes in the boots he’d dragged out of storage on his last trip home.
Some people rolled their eyes at his never-throw-out-a-fucking-thing wardrobe, but the comfort and the constancy was one of the few things he had to hold onto in his ever changing world. He pulled onto the highway and headed west.
His hip buzzed and he saw Matt’s name flash up. Sliding ignore, he dropped his phone into the middle console. They’d just have to get along without him for a little while. His fingers itched to pick it up when it buzzed again, but he forced himself to ignore it.
He needed his own thoughts, not the chorus of family and managers for just one day.
Just one day.
3hrs later
He pulled off the long winding stretch of road, the GPS had lost its signal over an hour before. He appreciated the adventure aspect of things, but he couldn’t get lost in the back of beyond with a show to do the next day.
He’d been determined to not use his cell for the first two hours, but now he didn’t have a choice. If the satellites couldn’t find him, a damn cell tower was definitely out of the question. He’d gotten far too hooked on technology to even think about getting an actual paper map before leaving the rental agent.
The agent had been more excited that he actually had a story to tell his buddies and girlfriend that he didn’t even try to pimp out the package deal with little things like maps. Rounding the car, he popped the trunk of the Audi convertible, hoping to find an ancient map. But since the car wasn’t old enough to have ten thousand miles on the odometer, that hope was dashed. Hell, the trunk still had that new car smell.
Digging his cell out of his pocket, he looked again, but the little bars in the corner were still missing. He climbed back behind the wheel hoping that if he drove just a little further he’d come upon some semblance of life. A gas station, a diner...anything. There was far too much untouched land here to go on forever.
He’d put the top down, enjoying the late morning sun and the alone time until civilization had dropped away completely. The only thing he didn’t have to worry about was the car. While the stick was a little bitchy, the engine purred like a satisfied woman. And while he loved his American heavy metal sports cars, he could appreciate the new and the fast. He rarely got to drive anymore. Living in the city had put a halt to that--even SoHo was just too congested to drive around in.
He downshifted as an incline filled the horizon, pushing the engine past crawl into a growl, his chest ached at the wild beauty of the rocks and endless grassland as far as the eye could see. But hidden in the rocks, as if it was simply carved into it, was an L-shaped house that wrapped around the rocks in sheer glass.
“Finally,” he muttered and checked the dash. One o’clock in the afternoon. Not exactly the best time for an impromptu housecall, but the battered silver truck in the driveway gave him hope. The gravel driveway spit and popped under his wide, high end wheels. As he got closer to the house, the glass front of the building became even more impressive.
He shrugged back into his shirt, wrinkles be damned. The heat of the day was dry as dust. Being from the northeast, he was used to the humidity but this just seemed to suck the very essence out of you. He looked for a doorbell, but only found an imposing gunmetal grey door. The stoop was painted cement in a plume of peacock feathers of all things. The same design crawled up the door making him think of invasive eyes. Wild daisies and a fat sunflower smirked at him from each side of the door.
As soon as he stepped on the first stair a vicious bark made him jump. He flushed. Christ, he’d leaped like a twelve year old girl for fuck’s sake. There was no windows on this side, just a reinforced steel looking siding. To protect from the winds off the endless flat that opened up from her house?
To protect from people?
The fact that he’d reacted like a girl made him square off his shoulders. So, the dog could rip him into two. No big deal. He lifted his hand, rapping knuckles on the door. Yep, the steel door.
A sharp click behind the door and metal scratched metal until one of the plumes opened and a very human eye blinked back at him. Blonde tipped lashes over a feline gold eye sized him up quite mercilessly. When the screech of metal and the grey peephole shutting was the only response, he took a step back.
If he didn’t know better, she’d found him lacking. Because the eye had been decidedly female both in temperament and exotic flavor. When the door didn’t open, he knocked again.
A menacing growl was the door’s only conversation. “Look, I’m not selling anything. I’m just a little lost.” He crossed his arms and kneaded his bicep absently.
He turned back around, the open nothingness of the area depressing in it’s constancy. He knocked again. “You can talk to me through the peephole if you’re worried.”
A hinge released, but instead of the door opening, a larger half circle showed more of the house’s resident. The top half of her face came into view and the over the top beauty hiding behind the glass and steel kicked him in the chest. Her wide gold eyes were matched with an improbably white fringe of bangs. No make-up, no guile, no expression, just one silky white eyebrow cocked.
“I’ve been on the road for a few hours, but I must have dumped myself into a Perdition road or something. None of my electronics work.”
She said nothing, just stared. Christ, she could understand him right? Did she speak French or something? He didn’t think he was in the part of Canada where that was prevalent.
He took off his sunglasses and tried a charming smile. “If I could just get some directions and maybe a bottle of water, I’d appreciate it.” Again...silence. “I’d be willing to pay for it.”
Silence reigned supreme. He jammed his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. He was damn good at the silent treatment. Fixing a bored look on his face, he stared right back at her. Suddenly her eyes crinkled and the door opened.
A dog, ugly in mangled grey fur and nearly the size of his car, sat beside its mistress. Long legs in flowing grey yoga pants ended in purple tipped toenails with an ornate gold ring flashing from the middle toe. The pants set low on her hips flashing a thin line of creamy skin with more purple creeping along her skin. A white tank clung to her with more purple climbing up from the breast hugging neckline.
Still smiling, she turned away, snapping to the dog who followed immediately. Was he supposed to follow her too? Was the snap for him? “Christ,” he muttered and followed.
She padded into a wide open space with overlarge furniture that somehow made the grand room seem cozy. A drafting board sat in the corner with one blinding white sheet of paper tacked into the center. Deep, dark lines made up some sort of storyboard. Comics? Hmm.
She kept walking until she got to a white kitchen...more of the eye bleeding purple touched there with slick cabinets, but white everywhere else. A bottle of Fiji water appeared on the ledge. “Nice,” he said gratefully and cracked the top. “Thank you.”
She opened her own and took a sip, her arms crossed over her stomach as she just watched him.
He held out his hand. “I’m Jon.”
She looked down at his hand, then back up to his eyes. The smile was back, flashing wide and white with surprising results. She looked cool as an ice princess until the smile lit her from within. She flicked back a pin straight lock of white hair and shook his hand. “January.”
He smirked, but it quickly dissolved into a laugh. “Seriously?”
She padded by him, scooping up a notebook on her way. She curled herself Indian style into a chair that was built for a giant. The dog hunkered up into the large grey...what? Chair? It didn’t look like any chair he’d ever seen. All her furniture looked like it was created for men that wrestled in the WWE.
Hell, was her husband some hulking Andre the Giant type? The dog picked his way around the chair daintily then flopped its hulking weight along her side, its head in her lap. It seemed to be a normal occurrence for her, because she just moved the notebook to her knee and scratched its ear absently.
Used to women, hell...even men chattering around him, the silence was disconcerting. She calmly started to draw, her pen didn’t hiccup, didn’t even pause. He moved closer, the large dark eyes of the dog following every move. He tried to look at the tablet, but the dog growled and he took a step back.
He wasn’t sure what to even say to her now since she didn’t feel the need to speak back to him. Just this expectant laughter around her eyes and deadpan face. Since she didn’t seem to feel the need to entertain him, he walked around the open room. The window was lightly tinted on the inside which told him it was probably near mirrored on the outside. She could see everything and no one could see her.
The windows were framed out with more of the same gunmetal grey and showed every corner of her outside world. A small white laptop peeked from under her couch. Okay, so she wasn’t completely cut off from the world. He wandered to her work table. The quick slashes of purple were her only color here too.
It looked familiar. The style and the dark edges pricked at some memory. He had a house full of boys that loved everything that had to do with comics and destruction. He frowned, looking up, but her walls were empty. Nothing that gave any indication to who she was as a person.
And still she just kept sketching behind him. And oddly he relaxed. No conversation, no simpering, no questions. Just silence. Hooking his thumbs into his jeans, he looked out onto the plain. An angry finger of dark clouds crept into view.
Well, just fucking awesome.
He turned to January as she climbed from the chair. Her dog snuffed out a half moan and settled back into sleep without its mistress. She handed him the oversized notebook. A completely detailed map showed him the way back to the main highway. Her directions were all in slashing capital letters, similar to his own handwriting in a bastardized script.
Damn, she was a talkative little thing. When he looked up, a smart remark on his lips, she was already heading back out of the room to the door.
“Here’s your hat, where’s your hurry,” he muttered and followed her. The empty silence resonated like another person in her house. But walking behind her, he could help but enjoy her small compact body with the teasing ink. “Um, I appreciate the help.”
She opened the door, her gold eyes wide and...sad? Her light lashes came down and them back up and any trace of the sad was gone. Just the remote with a twist of humor remained. Gargantua ended up next to her thigh as soon as the door opened. “I’d say come again, but that’s a lie.”
He laughed, startled by the edge to her humor. She obviously valued her privacy, and her solitary lifestyle. “I hope your husband won’t mind that a stranger came into your house.”
“He won’t.”
Not an answer in the least. Very smart woman. She looked up at him, the light flick of her thumbnail on the winding gold ring on her middle finger the only outward sign that she might be uncomfortable. “Answer me one question?”
He sighed, but braced himself for the question. He owed it to her for her version of hospitality. “Shoot.”
“If you came out this way to be alone, why did you stop here?”
Surprised at her question, and the flavor of her question, he didn’t have time to censor himself. “How would you know what I came out here for?”
“I may choose to live on the outskirts of life, Jon, but I am a female in her thirties. I know who you are.”
“Is that why you let me in?”
“Because you’re Jon Bon Jovi?”
He simply nodded.
“I let you in despite who you are. I like being alone, I like living alone, I like that no one knows where I live. I’ll be very upset if your entourage looks for you and finds my home.”
His eyebrow quirked. “Not exactly a smart thing to say with a man you don’t know in your house.”
“Seamus would chew off your dick and your balls before you could even begin to try using them.”
Frowning, he glanced down at the half-dog, half-demon that stood beside her. “Understood.” He ripped off the page with her map and handed her the notebook. “I appreciate your information, January.”
She hugged the sketchpad to her chest. “You didn’t answer my question.”
What the hell? Now she was going to be chatty? He didn’t know why he’d stopped. The glass, the open space, the oddity, the only house on a huge stretch of road? Whatever it was, he’d been drawn to her house. In that wide open space of nothing but asphalt and painfully blue sky, her glass shelter had been a beacon.
He couldn’t seem to figure out a reason why he’d stopped. He’d just been drawn to it, to the...He took a deep breath. “It was the wide open privacy.”
She smiled. “Not everyone gets what this place is, it’s nice when someone does.”
Impulsively, he leaned down and brushed a kiss on her cheek. Startled, she stepped back. Automatically, he soothed with a hand on her arm. The bare skin was cool thanks to her air conditioning, but he dropped his hand away when she stiffened. He held his hands up. “It’s just a thanks. I thought I wanted to be alone today. I felt like everyone was crowding in on me and I was just going to scream until someone put me in a padded room.”
This time it was him that was startled. He hadn’t even known that was inside him. And why the sweet hell was he telling some stranger? That would end up on a blog, or a website, or...
Cool, ink smudged fingers curled into his. “For someone so famous, your face gives you away. I won’t tell anyone. Just look around, Jon. I value privacy more than even you could.”
He looked down at her, this silent woman that hadn’t shared an ounce of herself, but inside all that quiet was a self contained peace that he hadn’t felt in too many years to count. He itched to touch her, to pull all that peace inside him.
Behind her, in the open door, fat drops dotted the purple and green eyes that stared off the cement porch. The slap of the hard rain was the only sound in the room besides their breathing. She looked over her shoulder, then back up at him.
And closed the door.
Dumping the lot of it on the bucket seat and floor of his rental, he pulled out of the airport. The rest of the band had headed to the hotel in the caravan of black SUV’s that was as familiar to him as his morning coffee. Sitting on the plane that whisked him from one end of the earth to the other three times over, he decided he needed some time. He had an entire day to either sit in his hotel and field calls like every other day, or...
Or he could disappear for twenty-four hours.
He’d surprised his brother, Matt, with the news as he was walking down the stairs to the tarmac. He needed to take a drive and get his head on straight. No kids, no wife, no phone calls.
He was familiar enough with the area and the GPS he’d requested for the rental would cover his bases. The Canadian highways were a little tricky, but getting lost sounded sweeter than Romeo’s laugh right about now. He stripped off his lightweight linen shirt, comfortable in the new tanks Nikki and Richie had designed for their line. He shoved oversized glasses on his face and wiggled his toes in the boots he’d dragged out of storage on his last trip home.
Some people rolled their eyes at his never-throw-out-a-fucking-thing wardrobe, but the comfort and the constancy was one of the few things he had to hold onto in his ever changing world. He pulled onto the highway and headed west.
His hip buzzed and he saw Matt’s name flash up. Sliding ignore, he dropped his phone into the middle console. They’d just have to get along without him for a little while. His fingers itched to pick it up when it buzzed again, but he forced himself to ignore it.
He needed his own thoughts, not the chorus of family and managers for just one day.
Just one day.
3hrs later
He pulled off the long winding stretch of road, the GPS had lost its signal over an hour before. He appreciated the adventure aspect of things, but he couldn’t get lost in the back of beyond with a show to do the next day.
He’d been determined to not use his cell for the first two hours, but now he didn’t have a choice. If the satellites couldn’t find him, a damn cell tower was definitely out of the question. He’d gotten far too hooked on technology to even think about getting an actual paper map before leaving the rental agent.
The agent had been more excited that he actually had a story to tell his buddies and girlfriend that he didn’t even try to pimp out the package deal with little things like maps. Rounding the car, he popped the trunk of the Audi convertible, hoping to find an ancient map. But since the car wasn’t old enough to have ten thousand miles on the odometer, that hope was dashed. Hell, the trunk still had that new car smell.
Digging his cell out of his pocket, he looked again, but the little bars in the corner were still missing. He climbed back behind the wheel hoping that if he drove just a little further he’d come upon some semblance of life. A gas station, a diner...anything. There was far too much untouched land here to go on forever.
He’d put the top down, enjoying the late morning sun and the alone time until civilization had dropped away completely. The only thing he didn’t have to worry about was the car. While the stick was a little bitchy, the engine purred like a satisfied woman. And while he loved his American heavy metal sports cars, he could appreciate the new and the fast. He rarely got to drive anymore. Living in the city had put a halt to that--even SoHo was just too congested to drive around in.
He downshifted as an incline filled the horizon, pushing the engine past crawl into a growl, his chest ached at the wild beauty of the rocks and endless grassland as far as the eye could see. But hidden in the rocks, as if it was simply carved into it, was an L-shaped house that wrapped around the rocks in sheer glass.
“Finally,” he muttered and checked the dash. One o’clock in the afternoon. Not exactly the best time for an impromptu housecall, but the battered silver truck in the driveway gave him hope. The gravel driveway spit and popped under his wide, high end wheels. As he got closer to the house, the glass front of the building became even more impressive.
He shrugged back into his shirt, wrinkles be damned. The heat of the day was dry as dust. Being from the northeast, he was used to the humidity but this just seemed to suck the very essence out of you. He looked for a doorbell, but only found an imposing gunmetal grey door. The stoop was painted cement in a plume of peacock feathers of all things. The same design crawled up the door making him think of invasive eyes. Wild daisies and a fat sunflower smirked at him from each side of the door.
As soon as he stepped on the first stair a vicious bark made him jump. He flushed. Christ, he’d leaped like a twelve year old girl for fuck’s sake. There was no windows on this side, just a reinforced steel looking siding. To protect from the winds off the endless flat that opened up from her house?
To protect from people?
The fact that he’d reacted like a girl made him square off his shoulders. So, the dog could rip him into two. No big deal. He lifted his hand, rapping knuckles on the door. Yep, the steel door.
A sharp click behind the door and metal scratched metal until one of the plumes opened and a very human eye blinked back at him. Blonde tipped lashes over a feline gold eye sized him up quite mercilessly. When the screech of metal and the grey peephole shutting was the only response, he took a step back.
If he didn’t know better, she’d found him lacking. Because the eye had been decidedly female both in temperament and exotic flavor. When the door didn’t open, he knocked again.
A menacing growl was the door’s only conversation. “Look, I’m not selling anything. I’m just a little lost.” He crossed his arms and kneaded his bicep absently.
He turned back around, the open nothingness of the area depressing in it’s constancy. He knocked again. “You can talk to me through the peephole if you’re worried.”
A hinge released, but instead of the door opening, a larger half circle showed more of the house’s resident. The top half of her face came into view and the over the top beauty hiding behind the glass and steel kicked him in the chest. Her wide gold eyes were matched with an improbably white fringe of bangs. No make-up, no guile, no expression, just one silky white eyebrow cocked.
“I’ve been on the road for a few hours, but I must have dumped myself into a Perdition road or something. None of my electronics work.”
She said nothing, just stared. Christ, she could understand him right? Did she speak French or something? He didn’t think he was in the part of Canada where that was prevalent.
He took off his sunglasses and tried a charming smile. “If I could just get some directions and maybe a bottle of water, I’d appreciate it.” Again...silence. “I’d be willing to pay for it.”
Silence reigned supreme. He jammed his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. He was damn good at the silent treatment. Fixing a bored look on his face, he stared right back at her. Suddenly her eyes crinkled and the door opened.
A dog, ugly in mangled grey fur and nearly the size of his car, sat beside its mistress. Long legs in flowing grey yoga pants ended in purple tipped toenails with an ornate gold ring flashing from the middle toe. The pants set low on her hips flashing a thin line of creamy skin with more purple creeping along her skin. A white tank clung to her with more purple climbing up from the breast hugging neckline.
Still smiling, she turned away, snapping to the dog who followed immediately. Was he supposed to follow her too? Was the snap for him? “Christ,” he muttered and followed.
She padded into a wide open space with overlarge furniture that somehow made the grand room seem cozy. A drafting board sat in the corner with one blinding white sheet of paper tacked into the center. Deep, dark lines made up some sort of storyboard. Comics? Hmm.
She kept walking until she got to a white kitchen...more of the eye bleeding purple touched there with slick cabinets, but white everywhere else. A bottle of Fiji water appeared on the ledge. “Nice,” he said gratefully and cracked the top. “Thank you.”
She opened her own and took a sip, her arms crossed over her stomach as she just watched him.
He held out his hand. “I’m Jon.”
She looked down at his hand, then back up to his eyes. The smile was back, flashing wide and white with surprising results. She looked cool as an ice princess until the smile lit her from within. She flicked back a pin straight lock of white hair and shook his hand. “January.”
He smirked, but it quickly dissolved into a laugh. “Seriously?”
She padded by him, scooping up a notebook on her way. She curled herself Indian style into a chair that was built for a giant. The dog hunkered up into the large grey...what? Chair? It didn’t look like any chair he’d ever seen. All her furniture looked like it was created for men that wrestled in the WWE.
Hell, was her husband some hulking Andre the Giant type? The dog picked his way around the chair daintily then flopped its hulking weight along her side, its head in her lap. It seemed to be a normal occurrence for her, because she just moved the notebook to her knee and scratched its ear absently.
Used to women, hell...even men chattering around him, the silence was disconcerting. She calmly started to draw, her pen didn’t hiccup, didn’t even pause. He moved closer, the large dark eyes of the dog following every move. He tried to look at the tablet, but the dog growled and he took a step back.
He wasn’t sure what to even say to her now since she didn’t feel the need to speak back to him. Just this expectant laughter around her eyes and deadpan face. Since she didn’t seem to feel the need to entertain him, he walked around the open room. The window was lightly tinted on the inside which told him it was probably near mirrored on the outside. She could see everything and no one could see her.
The windows were framed out with more of the same gunmetal grey and showed every corner of her outside world. A small white laptop peeked from under her couch. Okay, so she wasn’t completely cut off from the world. He wandered to her work table. The quick slashes of purple were her only color here too.
It looked familiar. The style and the dark edges pricked at some memory. He had a house full of boys that loved everything that had to do with comics and destruction. He frowned, looking up, but her walls were empty. Nothing that gave any indication to who she was as a person.
And still she just kept sketching behind him. And oddly he relaxed. No conversation, no simpering, no questions. Just silence. Hooking his thumbs into his jeans, he looked out onto the plain. An angry finger of dark clouds crept into view.
Well, just fucking awesome.
He turned to January as she climbed from the chair. Her dog snuffed out a half moan and settled back into sleep without its mistress. She handed him the oversized notebook. A completely detailed map showed him the way back to the main highway. Her directions were all in slashing capital letters, similar to his own handwriting in a bastardized script.
Damn, she was a talkative little thing. When he looked up, a smart remark on his lips, she was already heading back out of the room to the door.
“Here’s your hat, where’s your hurry,” he muttered and followed her. The empty silence resonated like another person in her house. But walking behind her, he could help but enjoy her small compact body with the teasing ink. “Um, I appreciate the help.”
She opened the door, her gold eyes wide and...sad? Her light lashes came down and them back up and any trace of the sad was gone. Just the remote with a twist of humor remained. Gargantua ended up next to her thigh as soon as the door opened. “I’d say come again, but that’s a lie.”
He laughed, startled by the edge to her humor. She obviously valued her privacy, and her solitary lifestyle. “I hope your husband won’t mind that a stranger came into your house.”
“He won’t.”
Not an answer in the least. Very smart woman. She looked up at him, the light flick of her thumbnail on the winding gold ring on her middle finger the only outward sign that she might be uncomfortable. “Answer me one question?”
He sighed, but braced himself for the question. He owed it to her for her version of hospitality. “Shoot.”
“If you came out this way to be alone, why did you stop here?”
Surprised at her question, and the flavor of her question, he didn’t have time to censor himself. “How would you know what I came out here for?”
“I may choose to live on the outskirts of life, Jon, but I am a female in her thirties. I know who you are.”
“Is that why you let me in?”
“Because you’re Jon Bon Jovi?”
He simply nodded.
“I let you in despite who you are. I like being alone, I like living alone, I like that no one knows where I live. I’ll be very upset if your entourage looks for you and finds my home.”
His eyebrow quirked. “Not exactly a smart thing to say with a man you don’t know in your house.”
“Seamus would chew off your dick and your balls before you could even begin to try using them.”
Frowning, he glanced down at the half-dog, half-demon that stood beside her. “Understood.” He ripped off the page with her map and handed her the notebook. “I appreciate your information, January.”
She hugged the sketchpad to her chest. “You didn’t answer my question.”
What the hell? Now she was going to be chatty? He didn’t know why he’d stopped. The glass, the open space, the oddity, the only house on a huge stretch of road? Whatever it was, he’d been drawn to her house. In that wide open space of nothing but asphalt and painfully blue sky, her glass shelter had been a beacon.
He couldn’t seem to figure out a reason why he’d stopped. He’d just been drawn to it, to the...He took a deep breath. “It was the wide open privacy.”
She smiled. “Not everyone gets what this place is, it’s nice when someone does.”
Impulsively, he leaned down and brushed a kiss on her cheek. Startled, she stepped back. Automatically, he soothed with a hand on her arm. The bare skin was cool thanks to her air conditioning, but he dropped his hand away when she stiffened. He held his hands up. “It’s just a thanks. I thought I wanted to be alone today. I felt like everyone was crowding in on me and I was just going to scream until someone put me in a padded room.”
This time it was him that was startled. He hadn’t even known that was inside him. And why the sweet hell was he telling some stranger? That would end up on a blog, or a website, or...
Cool, ink smudged fingers curled into his. “For someone so famous, your face gives you away. I won’t tell anyone. Just look around, Jon. I value privacy more than even you could.”
He looked down at her, this silent woman that hadn’t shared an ounce of herself, but inside all that quiet was a self contained peace that he hadn’t felt in too many years to count. He itched to touch her, to pull all that peace inside him.
Behind her, in the open door, fat drops dotted the purple and green eyes that stared off the cement porch. The slap of the hard rain was the only sound in the room besides their breathing. She looked over her shoulder, then back up at him.
And closed the door.
3 comments:
Ohhh a short! I felt like I was on the road with Jon, and the visuals were impeccable, of the house, the surroundings. Love it, so much I want to live there--away from this crazy thing called life ;)
I think our blessed HRH feels like this more times than we know, this feels like something very real.
She's intriguing, and I wonder what her story is. Nice start T.
Thank you ... Loved it can't wait for more
Charlie
Oh Miss Tara! A treat I've stumbled across. .. thank you!!
Post a Comment