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(based on a true story 🙂 )

Title: Gimmie, Gimmie
Author: Chris Fitzner
eBook: Yes

With wet, freshly washed brown hair, soft pink pajamas, her feet tucked underneath her on the couch, Marie was perfect and Ricky’s heart was all a ‘flutter in his chest. He tore his eyes away from his lady love, who was absently flipping through the channels on the television. Ricky stuffed his clammy hands into his pockets, fingertips brushing the smooth surface of the ring box.

The ring box. The ring. A simple, delicate solitaire set into a band of white gold and diamonds. The symbol of the many months Ricky had been saving for the perfect ring to ask the perfect girl the Ultimate Question: Marie, will you marry me?

Marie had been expecting it for weeks; at the fancy dinner for her birthday in the spring, during the weekend trip they took last month and Ricky knew she was getting frustrated. For all of their years together, didn’t he want to marry her? He did, of course he did, but he didn’t want to ask when she might have expected it, when they were all dressed up to go out, with the promise of a special night ahead. Ricky loved her best right now; comfortable, unadorned, natural and quietly fussing with her hair. It was time.

The weather was cool for early summer and his breath made a circle of fog on the sliding glass door. Ricky wanted to propose under the stars, such as they were with city lights to obscure them. Taking a deep breath, he slid the door open and wandered nonchalantly out onto the balcony.

“Honey? Come look at the stars with me.” He called through the open door, trying to keep his voice casual. The minute or two that passed before Marie appeared beside him felt like forever, like that long and agonizing lead-up to Christmas Day when he was a child. She slipped his arm through his, her floral scented shampoo filled his nose. Ricky’s heart jumped into his throat.

“I don’t see any stars, Ricky.” her neck craned upward and squinting into the night sky. “Are you sure it wasn’t a plane going by?”

Ricky slid the box from his pocket slowly while Marie was distracted. A flip of his thumb and he slipped the ring from the box and casually from his pocket.

When Marie looked back, Ricky was down on one knee, holding a ring that sparkled even in the dim balcony lights.

“Gimmie!” Marie made a grab at the ring before Ricky could speak, knocking it from his clammy fingers. They both cried out, frozen in place, watching the ring sail towards the edge of the railing. A faint clink of metal on metal and it clattered to the concrete, dangerously close to the open space beneath the railing.

Ricky dove to his knees to scoop up the ring, popping back up in front of Marie, breathless but triumphant. An awkward moment of silence, finally broken by Marie’s nervous giggle and then Ricky was laughing too.

She held out her hand and Ricky slipped the ring on her finger, glinting and shining, a perfect fit for his perfect girl.

“So, that’s a yes, then?” he smiled and Marie whispered ‘yes’, her own smile could have lit up the sky.

Taking Marie’s hands in his, Ricky pulled here against him and leaned in to seal the moment with a kiss.

Congratulations, Anna and Michael! All the best on your big day and may you share a lifetime of love and happiness. Mwah! ❤

 

Read the other wonderful stories in the collection!

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It’s nights like these, cool and clear, quiet but for the noises of the city, stars hang, distant and dim in the black sky. I’m surrounded by apartments, city lights reflect upon the water of the harbour.  I’m surrounded by people.

It’s nights like this one that I feel the smallest and the most intensely alone.

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I’ve been curled up in the warmth of my apartment, waiting for Spring.

Considering a move back to Blogger as well, WordPress just isn’t user friendly enough for me (i.e. idiot proof).

——————————

Acrid smoke caught in my throat, burned my lungs, left me coughing and sputtering.  Lurching forward, I stumbled out onto the next block, filled with the posh shops of dressmakers and milliners who catered to the artistocrats and royal family.  Hours of my own childhood had been spent trailing behind my mother, going from shop to shop, sitting on identical cushioned stools and staring out identical windows while she preened, fussed and ordered people about.  How different it all looked now with shattered glass glistening in the fading daylight like a fresh dusting of snow.

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She started whispering to me again this week, so I’m back on the fan fiction wheel for the time being.

At the far end of the room, nearer to the fire, a slight figure clad in leather dwarfed by the spinning wheel he operated.  He paid her no mind when she approached, both of them entranced by the whir of the wheel, the pull of the thread and then the gleaming of gold in the firelight.  It had to be magic, like the man who had healed her, the one with the fire.  But the wings of panic did not beat against her mind here in front of this strangely coloured man at the spinning wheel.

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The Chase

Moth to a flame and I’m burning again,
Candied hearts and roses,
from all the wrong men.

What are you doing, girl,
and what is it for,
tromping around town
like some two dollar whore.

Addicted to sex, you see,
the thrill and the chase,
the silks and the satins,
all trimmed up with lace.

I don’t ask for more and
don’t dare pin me down.
Love bites and it’s dangerous;
if I don’t swim, I’ll drown.

77 words

For more tales of love gone awry, hilariously or otherwise, check out the collection.

BIB-LOVE-BITES-Blog-Hop

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January was a slow, rough and sickly month.  But now I’m back, filled with restless energy and bouncing back and forth between more projects than I can probably keep track of.  Here’s a snippet (a ROUGH snippet) of one of my works-in-progress.

***

“Tis a foolish plan, mother.  Locking the beasts into the town with us?  Madness.” Temperance spoke softly, smoothing the downy hair on her sleeping daughter’s head.

“We’ve tried everything else.  If we build a shield, then we can keep out new demons, eradicate the existing ones and protect the town.”  The plan had already been decided upon by our coven, agreed upon by the council of wizards, she couldn’t fight it no matter how much she disagreed.

“And what about him?”  anger had flushed her cheeks and tears began to shine in her winter blue eyes even as she struggled to remain calm.  Temperance had always worn her heart on her sleeve though.  I scooped the baby from her arms and held her close, drinking in the sweet smell of her.

“He will have to be banished too.” I murmured, tracing my finger along my granddaughter’s silken cheeks.

“Can you even banish a man?  He is mortal is he not?” she frowned at the sunshine pouring through the parlour windows. “Who is even willing to throw away their life for this?”

The baby had opened her deep blue eyes and she regarded me with an almost serene expression. “It is to be me.”

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31

I finally caught up to you Baskin Robins!

My 31st birthday on Sunday was a delicious non-event.  A stomach flu that Leigh passed to me on Wednesday took every bit of energy out of me.  Truly, I couldn’t even get out of bed for two days, postponed my Saturday night birthday party, ate an amazing brunch on Sunday and then slept the afternoon away.

January has been a poor poor month, emotionally, I’ve spent it either sick as hell or depressed as hell.  Yesterday was the first day I’ve felt like me in weeks.  I haven’t had much time to turn my mind to 2013 goals (which I do around the birthday most every year).  But writing and painting are my focuses.  Generally, I do one while the other falls to the wayside and I’d like to balance it out more.  I’ve embarked on an ambitious (for me) writing project and I feel like a collection of short stories is in the cards (featuring characters that have been in my heart for at least fifteen years).  As much as I loved writing my fan fiction (and I finished my most recent piece in December, which felt beautiful and cathartic), I really want to turn into my own worlds. They are there, I just have to learn to navigate them with a pen.

I am surrounded by amazing, inspiring and creative people and I have to learn how to channel this inspiration into action.

I would also like to get back to the voice lessons; singing was a really soothing thing to do and learning to control my own instrument a challenge.  Even if I don’t set another foot back into a theatre.

(and write more Origins essays for Once Upon a Fan and – and and – omg biting off more than I can chew already, brb).

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