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Friday, March 29, 2013

The Future

People always say
Look to the future
It hasn't happened yet
And anything is possible
But I know what my future hold
Disappointment and tears
Because that's how you always make me feel

I feel so invisible
But when you do see me
You only see my bad qualities
And point out all my flaws
I want you to understand
That with good comes bad

But in the end
I'm always who I am

The future is supposed to be bright
Full of wonder
Full of dreams
But my future is something I dread
Wondering if I'll live to see tomorrow
Wondering if it's all worth it
Because that's how you make me feel

Yes I drop subtle hints
Afraid to say what I'm thinking
We don't speak like we use to
Why can't we return to the past
The past made me feel special
Like I was worthy of your time
My present makes me depressed
And thinking of the future
Makes me sick to my stomach

I feel like you don't care
I feel like everything I do
Isn't good enough for you
That all the time and energy I use
Should have been put to a better use
The future is tomorrow
And now all I can say
Is I hope it's happier and brighter
Then it is today

Wednesday, March 27, 2013

Horror Movies: The Rule Of Three



When it comes to horror movie franchises it seems that studios have the theory that more films equals more dollars.  But that's not really the case.

Like all genres, the horror community is spurned by the fans.  What fans want to see is the ultimate driving force behind horror movie franchises.  But when does the franchise go from being top notch to ending up as a direct to DVD?

I'd like to call it The Rule Of Three.


PARANORMAL ACTIVITY did exceptionally well at the box office because there was nothing like it available at the time.  Same applied to SAW.  They were both unique concepts that played with the mind of the audiences, creating panic and fear from the comfort of a local cinema.  Studio executives looked at it as a money making machine and began spitting out sequels every year, thus lessening the quality of the film, the scares and diminishing the audience capacity.  Did they learn nothing from FRIDAY THE 13TH?

This is where The Rule Of Three comes into play.  Imagine you're a horror writer/director/producer.  You've just discovered an amazing story and have been green lighted by the studio to turn into a feature film.  Your horror movie is suddenly all anyone is talking about and all that talk is generating the big bucks.  Now it's time to decide if you're going to cash in on a sequel or not.

My theory is if a horror movie makes a large enough profit and fans are demanding a second film, then go for it.  The demand is high and people can't wait to see what happens next.  This is the part that most franchises fault with.  Your sequel has to measure up to the same standards as the original movie.  If a sequel can stand on it's own and still be considered a fantastic film, like PSYCHO II, then you have a success.  If not, then it's time to end the series there.

If you manage to score a sequel that can stand on it's own, and it generates enough interest, money and discussion, then it's time to look at a possibility of doing another film.  This time, the third film has to out do the two that came before it while still being able to stand independently and keeping in touch with the already established storyline.

Let's look at the I KNOW WHAT YOU DID LAST SUMMER series.  The first film came out in 1997 and did reasonably well.  The first sequel, I STILL KNOW WHAT YOU DID LAST SUMMER, carried on in 1998 and kept some of the original cast (Freddie Prinze Jr., Jennifer Love Hewitt and Muse Watson as The Fisherman).  But I bet you didn't know that in 2006 there was an attempt to revive the series with I'LL ALWAYS KNOW WHAT YOU DID LAST SUMMER.  Now, I don't have an issue with seeing The Fisherman return and when I first heard about the film, I was a little excited.  It had almost been eight years since Julie and Ray had survived so revisiting them would have been an interesting concept.  Sadly, no one else thought like I did.  Rather then bringing back Freddie, Jennifer and Muse, I'LL ALWAYS KNOW took a different route, using the story of The Fisherman fueled by revenge as nothing more then an urban legend.  Not surprisingly, this film went straight to video and didn't round out the series the way a true sequel would have.  The same thing can be said about the URBAN LEGEND series.  URBAN LEGENDS: FINAL CUT was a decent enough sequel because it stood on it's own but still had a slight tie back to the original film.  URBAN LEGENDS: BLOODY MARY, like I'LL ALWAYS KNOW, disregarded everything that came before it and consequently didn't make as much as what the first two did.  Is it a good film on its own?  Not really.  So rather then being called part of the series, I'LL ALWAYS KNOW and URBAN LEGENDS: BLOODY MARY are simply just bad movies.

I'm not the only horror fan that sticks by this formula.  When I asked my Twitter followers "When should horror movie franchises call it quits?  When is enough, enough?" 90% of people who responded answered with "After part three."  One person even went as far to say "By the end of the third film most of the interest has gone.  We only go back for parts 4, 5, 6....12, 13 because we're hooked on the killer.  Someone like Jason or Freddy broke the horror mold and true fans will follow them regardless of how bad the movie is."

So what's your opinion?  Do you believe in the Horror Movie Rule Of Three?  When should horror movie franchises call it quits?  

The Bucket List

In life we all have things we want to achieve before we die.  So I decided to make my list publicly known.  Some of these are possibly never going to happen, others are just for fun and some are my life long dreams.  What's on your bucket list?

1) I would like to see my books available online and in stores

2) I would like to see one of my short stories turned into a 30 minute mini movie

3) I would to get married

4) I would like to start my own business (horror orientated of course)

5) I would like to pat a tiger

6) I would like to be at the MCG in the last week of September to watch my mighty Richmond Tigers win the grand final

7) I would like to live overseas for a year

8) I would like to have a massive 30th birthday party

9) I would like to own my own home

10) I would like to spend more time doing charity work

11) I would like to conquer my fear of heights and bungee jump

12) I would like to direct one of my short stories into a 30 minute mini movie

13) I would like to swim with dolphins

14) I would like to snorkel in the Great Barrier Reef

15) I would like to go back to school and study psychology

16) I would like to star in one of my short story movie adaptations (return to my acting roots)

17) I would like to see one of my novels become a full-length feature movie

18) I would like to have three children; a boy and two girls

19) I would like to reunite with my high school friends

20) I would like to spend the night in a haunted house and live stream it to the internet

Tuesday, March 26, 2013

Eggshells


I can't say what's on my mind
Because I'm afraid of what you'll say
You've got me walking around on eggshells
And now the time has come
I hold my tongue
Afraid to speak
Because everything I say
Somehow comes back to haunt me

When did things get like this?
When did I have to watch what I did
And what I said
Scared that you'll use it against me later on

We use to be so open
Talking about anything
Now things are so tense
That one false move could be my last
You no longer use my nickname
Instead just opting to say "Hi"
No "Baby, honey or lovely" follows
Makes me feel like I'm so alone

Now I feel like I can't say
Exactly what's on my mind
Because it'll start a fight
I'm walking on eggshells

Why can't we be like a movie?
A romantic comedy where everything works out
Instead of laying doubts
We live happily ever after
I don't want what I say today
To come back to haunt me tomorrow
I don't want to find out that
You've simply replaced me

You've got me walking on eggshells
Afraid to speak my mind
Because everything I say
Comes back to haunt me someday

Sunday, March 24, 2013

Place Your Bets: Michael Myers Vs. Michael Myers


No, I haven’t gone completely insane.  But this was a challenge I just had to tackle head on.

He is the epitome of evil.  He is a horror icon.  He is a legendary killer.  He is the boogeyman.  And now, he goes head to head with himself in an all out war.  The original Michael Myers from 1978 Vs. the remake Michael Myers from 2007, in a bloody battle where winner kills all.

I’ve never been shy when stating that Michael Myers is my favourite horror movie villain.  He’s elusive, guarded and above all, pure evil.  And that’s just the original version.  Team him with the remake version and quite frankly, there won’t be a dry seat in the house.

So if this ultimate boogeyman was to verse himself, which version would come out on top and crown this victory?  The 1978 original vs. the 2007 remake. 

Let’s get ready to rumble.

Let’s begin with the outlines to both stories.  According to the original movie, Michael Myers was just six years old when he brutally killed his sister on Halloween night in 1963.  Judging from his parent’s appearance as well as his sister, Michael came from a middle class family.  No rhyme or reason was given for the sudden attack and he spent fifteen years locked away at Smith’s Grove Sanitarium. 

At the ripe old age of twenty-one, Michael escapes on October 30, 1978.  The following night, fifteen years after the death of his older sister, he slays three people.  A mechanic’s body was found later, upping the body count to just four.  The reason for his killings are unclear, however he seemed to be stalking Laurie Strode.  (It is bought to our attention in the second movie made in 1981 that Laurie was Michael’s baby sister)  The film ends with Michael being shot at by Dr. Loomis and falling over a two-story balcony.  As Loomis looks over the balcony, Michael has vanished.

In the remake, things are a little different.  Michael was more unhinged.  Michael was the second of three children to Deborah Myers and an unidentified father.  He was rather anti-social and soon developed an interest in harming small animals, lacking empathy for his victims.  His family was dysfunctional, yet Michael displayed a love for his baby sister who he had nicknamed Boo. 

At the age of ten, Michael snapped, killing a classmate from his school on Halloween.  That night he brutally murdered his mother’s boyfriend, his older sister’s boyfriend and his older sister, Judith.

He is then sent to Smith’s Grove Sanitarium where he spends the next seventeen years of his life.  During that time, his mother commits suicide and his baby sister is adopted by a local Haddonfield family.  Then Michael decides to stage a breakout.  Not too sure of the official body count from the Sanitarium, however it’s safe to assume that he didn’t leave anyone who worked there alive.  He then murders a trucker not long after his escape from Smith’s Grove, stealing his clothing.  It’s unclear how Michael learned of Laurie’s (Boo) whereabouts, but that doesn’t stop the slaying.  He murders seven more people, including two police officers, Laurie’s adopted parents plus her friend Lynda in cold blood.  His methods are brutal and he uses his strength and height to his advantage.

So, who would win?  Let’s look at the stats.

Original Michael Myers was played by Nick Castle for the most part.  Nick provided Michael with the ticks we’ve come to know and love.  The head tilt, the ability to appear out of the darkness and the famous slow, stalking walk.  Tony Moran was the unmasked Michael Myers, installing more fear into the audience with just a brief glance at his face.  There were also times when John Carpenter and Debra Hill became Michael for fleeting moments.  But for the purpose of this article, Nick Castle is our man.

In the remake, Tyler Mane was the grown up version of Michael while Daeg Faerch was the child version.  For the purpose of this article, my focus for the remake Michael is on Tyler Mane.

Height:  Nick Castle is 5’10 while Tyler Mane stands tall (no pun intended) at 6’9.
Body Count:  Nick’s version had a body count of four while Tyler’s version was responsible for the massacre at Smith’s Grove Sanitarium, the death of a trucker as well as seven others. 
Storyline:  The original film won fans over with the lack of blood, the tense soundtrack and the amazing characters.  The remake won fans with blood, guts and gore.

On paper, the choice is obvious.  The remake version of Michael Myers is hands down more brutal, more terrifying and way more vicious.  His ability to slay numerous people with ease and without remorse was gut-wrenching to watch.  He left a massive bruise on the neck of Lynda after strangling her with his bare hand.  Not hands, but hand.  There is no disputing that he was the more violent and therefore the one that you don’t really want to mess with.

But then again, if it weren’t for the original Michael Myers, the remake version wouldn’t exist.  And the original was described as “purely and simply evil.” 

Winner: Original Michael Myers.

Whether you agree with my outcome or not, one thing is for certain.  This will be a bloody and epic battle.  Winner does indeed kill all.

Sunday, March 17, 2013

Rhiannon Irons' Top 13 Potential Horror Remakes



Remakes.  Love them or hate them they're a part of the Hollywood machine.  Some a good, some are iffy and others are down right disturbing.  Whatever your stance on remakes, I've managed to compile a list of 13 horror films that could potentially be remade into something good.  Not great or even Oscar winning, but good.


13 titles.  13 potential remakes.  13....unlucky for some.

13)  The Burning  (1981)
A former summer camp caretaker, horribly burned from a prank gone wrong, lurks around an upstate New York summer camp bent on killing the teenagers responsible for his disfigurement.

It's got potential to be fun, maybe even a little 'campy' (no pun intended).  Good structure for some 'Jason' inspired kills.  The storyline may need a little tweaking but over all it's got good bones (again, no pun intended) for a remake.

12)  Waxwork  (1988)

A wax museum owner uses his horror exhibits to unleash evil on the world.


A voodoo curse with monsters from both history and cinema coming to life.  I don't know of any other movie that sees Dracula, the Wolf Man, the Invisible Man, Frankenstein and the Mummy appear side by side with the legions of zombies as well as horrific characters from history.  It's not a bad film on it's own, but with a bigger budget it may be improved upon.

11)  Chopping Mall  (1986)

Eight teenagers are trapped after hours in a high tech shopping mall and pursued by three murderous security robots out of control.

The classic tale of robots going on a killing spree, Chopping Mall wasn't too bad.  Not great, but not bad.  Add some high tech, state-of-the-art robots as well as a big name star of today and this campy horror film may just have the chance to grow bigger and better.

10)  Slaughter High  (1986)

Eight different people are invited to their 10-year high school reunion at their now-closed down high school where a former student, disfigured from a prank gone wrong, is there to seek revenge.

A classic tale of revenge.  When it comes to horror, these stories are a dime a dozen.  But what makes this story stand out is the potential for some really awesome and fucked up kills.  After all, isn't it a horror movie no-no to bully the nerd in high school?

9)  The Slumber Party Massacre  (1982)

An eighteen-year-old high school girl is left at home by her parents and she decides to have a slumber party.

What could go wrong with that?  Oh sure, there's a maniac with a power drill on the loose, but otherwise, think of the fun this movie could bring if it were updated.  Girls in skimpy lingerie, pillow fights and boy gatecrashers followed by some serious killer carnage.  Could be fun.

8)  Hell Night  (1981)

Four college pledges are forced to spend the night in a deserted old mansion where they get killed off one by one by the monstrous surviving members of a family massacre years earlier for trespassing on their living grounds.

An interesting tale with the potential to be better.  A larger budget and better effects teamed with a tweaked script and this could be something like Halloween meets Just Before Dawn.  Either way, it would be a scream.

7)  The Return Of The Living Dead  (1985)

When a bumbling pair of employees at a medical supply warehouse accidentally release a deadly gas into the air, the vapors cause the dead to re-animate as they go on a rampage through Louisville, Kentucky seeking their favorite food, brains.

Zombies are all the rage so why not take this campy tale and give it a more terrifying twist.  Upgrade the zombies, upgrade the script, upgrade the effects and the audience will be sitting in their seats mumbling "Brainsssssssssssss."

6)  976-Evil  (1988)

People who dial 976-EVIL receive supernatural powers and turn into satanic killers.


Nothing wrong with Robert Englund's direction but it could benefit from a larger effects budget and big name in the cast to get audience's into the theater.  An interesting, and original, storyline that asked the ultimate question - Do you want to know what your HORRORSCOPE is?

5)  Demonic Toys  (1992)

A policewoman, her quarry and an innocent delivery boy become trapped in a haunted toy warehouse.

Long before Toy Story there was Demonic Toys.  But by following Toy Story's example of a healthy budget and by re-writing the script so that the story is fresh, this could be an interesting turn of events.  But one thing I'd keep would be Baby Oopsie-Daisy's foul mouth.  "
I can walk, I can talk, I can even shit my pants.  Can you shit your pants?"

4)  Alligator  (1980)

A baby alligator is flushed down a Chicago toilet and survives by eating discarded lab rats, injected with growth hormones. The small animal grows gigantic, escapes the city sewers, and goes on a rampage.

An urban legend being remade to fit in with this day and age would spark some interest.  I'm sure we'd hear "Oh I heard this story before.  It happened to a friend of a friend of mine."  Add in some of the knowledge that we have now, maybe even use CGI and that gator won't want to be messed with.

3)  Demon Seed  (1977)

A scientist creates Proteus - an organic super computer with artificial intelligence which becomes obsessed with human beings, and in particular the creators wife.

This could be a fun movie to explore with the right creative mind driving it all.  Think of all the possiblities today's technology could bring to this film.  Add in a horror icon and presto - you have a go picture.

2)  Night Of The Lepus  (1972)

Giant mutant rabbits terrorize the southwest.

OK, so this one's a little out there, and you really can't replace Janet Leigh with anyone, but hear me out.  This film has loads of potential.  If CGI, animatronics, a star studded cast and a director with loads of imagination were used, this film could, and I do mean could, be something better then good.  It could be great.

1)  Terror Train  (1980)

A masked killer targets six college kids responsible for a prank gone wrong years earlier and whom are currently throwing a large New Year's Eve costume party aboard a moving train.

OK, so it's really Halloween except on a train rather then a fictional town, but this could be updated.  Hell, even Pretty Little Liars took this concept for a spin during one of their Halloween episodes so I don't see why it can't be refreshed for the modern audience.  It was a clever, fun film back then (of course Scream Queen, Jamie Lee Curtis helped) and I enjoy the original even today.  Better costumes, a chance to explore some interesting deaths and instead of David Copperfiled, we could use Criss Angel as the magician.  Think of how funky fresh that would be.

So what do you think?  Is there a movie that I missed that you think would potentially be an interesting remake?  Leave your thoughts below.  Let the debating begin.

St. Patrick's Day

March 17, the day set aside for St. Patrick, the holy man who drove the snakes away from Ireland.  And now also known as the day I killed fifteen hundred people in one of the greatest massacres in history.

I had made plans to host a St. Paddy’s Day party for my work colleagues.  Working as an accountant is tiresome and let’s face it, watching grass grow is more interesting.  So my reasoning for doing so was that I so desperately needed a drink. 

I had always been invisible at work.  People didn’t notice me, even when I was trying to make conversation.  My boss had passed me over for promotion a million times.  The people that sat in cubicles near me never even asked if I wanted to go for a drink after work.  Hell, I’m certain half the people that were invited to this thing didn’t know my name.  But like good little worker bees, they turned up in drones.

I had decorated the warehouse I had rented for the party in green shamrocks, leprechauns and even had a pot of gold.  It overlooked the river which for this day was a lovely shade of green.  I had twelve kegs of beer on standby, filled with green beer to fit in perfectly with the theme. 

Did I really need twelve?  No.  But I knew people would get suspicious if I only had four or five.

So I had green beer and green food, dyed of course.  Everything was perfect.  Everything was ready to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day.

St. Patrick, the man who rid Ireland of snakes.  Do you want to know something interesting about snake venom?  Some are green, just like the dye used to make the green beer.  That made it so much easier to kill everyone.  One dose of green mamba venom and everyone who had ignored me at work would finally know my name.  It would be the last thing they’d say before rotting to death underneath the shamrocks.

It was a little difficult getting the venom, I admit.  I had to pay off a few people to keep it all very hush-hush.  Thankfully, my time in the slammer after my Valentine’s Day murders had taught me a thing or two about connections.  Yes, I was only in there for a  couple of weeks before I was freed because no judge had signed a search warrant for my house, but in that time I had made some very powerful connections that could get me anything I wanted without raising an eyebrow.

As people began arriving, I pulled out the first two kegs, setting them down behind the bar.  In my very best Irish accent, I ask my first victim what they would have.

“A pint of your very finest beer!” he shouted, clearly already drunk. 

“A fine choice,” I said, placing a frosted glass beneath the key and pouring a full glass.  It would only take one sip before the venom took over, but judging from the scent of booze on his breath, I knew he’d chug it down so fast he wouldn’t taste the flavor.

I was right.  No sooner had I placed the glass on the bar then he tossed his head, draining every last drop from the glass.

He slammed the glass down.  “Another!” he cried, his eyes lighting up, his nose red.

I arched an eyebrow before taking the glass.  My insides were churning.  How long did I have to wait for the venom to kick in?

Turns out, not very long at all.

I turned back with the second glass.  His face was turning green.  I always give credit where credit is due and this guy was doing well to blend in with my green theme.

He excused himself from the bar and made his way out a side exit.

I followed him, curious to know what green mamba venom would do to a person in such a large quantity.

I walked through the back alley.  The stench of death surrounded me.  I had to cover my nose to prevent myself from puking.

I rounded the corner and there he was.  Or at least, what was left of him.

The venom had eaten him from the inside out.  Flesh dripped from his bones and I could see clearly through his stomach and throat.  Wherever the beer passed through him was torn to shreds.  Blood, puss and venom dripped from the remains, forming a pool beneath the body.  His face was twisted in horror as though his final moments had been nothing short of pure agony.  It was actually quite gross to look at but oh so satisfying.

Quickly, I hurried back to the side entrance and grabbed the first couple of guys I could see to help me wheel in the rest of the beer kegs.

Once they were inside the warehouse, I noticed a couple of guys had jumped behind the bar and were handing out drinks to the patrons.

As I shuffled slowly back towards the side entrance I noticed that every single person had a glass of my green ale in their hand and were blissfully unaware of what was about to happen to them.

Exiting the warehouse, I blocked the door with junk from the alleyway.  Boxes, crates, barrels, parts of a fence.  Anything and everything was used to make sure that no one could get out.  I then hurried around to the main entrance and, with the key I had in the pocket of my green vest, I locked the doors. 

Oh sure, there were windows, but even if someone managed to smash one, the venom would get them before they were able to climb out.  That’s the beauty of using a warehouse to conduct crime.  The windows are up very high.

I stood at the main entrance, my ear pressed against the heavy steel door.  I could faintly hear the commotion inside, but it wasn’t enough to fuel my desire.  I had to see what was going on.

I hurried back to the alleyway and began climbing on the rubble of old shipping crates and fence posts until I could peer into a dusty window.

The sight before me was beautiful.  Bodies eaten inside out by green mamba venom littered the floor.  Faces twisted in agony.  Some people were still alive, barely, crawling across the floor, their fingernails gripping the cold concrete in an attempt to survive.  Their screams echoed through the room as the final moments of their pathetic lives slipped before their very eyes.  I watched with glee as they succumbed to their fate.

What a horrid fate it must have been.  There they were, enjoying the day set aside by the calendar as the one day of the year where public intoxication is welcomed.  The next thing they knew their insides were being shredded in a gut-wrenching painful way as the venom destroyed their stomachs and throats.

I climbed down from my perch and started walking back to my car, a spring in my step and a song in my heart.

I climbed into the driver’s seat and checked my breath.  No signs of alcohol.  I smiled as I started the engine.

“I guess the Luck of the Irish was on my side,” I said to myself as I left the docks.  “I always knew drinking was harmful to my health.”

Thursday, March 14, 2013

Ding And Dong

On hearing that her elderly grandfather had just passed away, Katie went straight to her grandparent's house to visit her 95 year old grandmother and comfort her.

When she asked how her grandfather had died, her grandmother replied, "He had a heart attack while we were making love on Sunday morning."

Horrified, Katie told her grandmother that 2 people nearly 100 years old having sex would surely be asking for trouble.

"Oh no, my dear, " replied granny.  "Many years ago, realizing our advanced age, we figured out the best time to do it was when the church bells would start to ring.  It was just the right rhythm.  Nice and slow and even. Nothing too strenuous, simply in on the Ding and out on the Dong."

She paused, wiped away a tear and then continued, "And if that damned ice cream truck hadn't come along, he'd still be alive today!"

Sunday, March 10, 2013

Touch Of My Hand


Rhiannon sighed, closing her laptop.  

Her inspiration for story writing had left her back in the city and clearly it wasn’t coming back anytime soon.  She glanced out the window.  She had decided to get away from the hustle and bustle of the city, retreating to her father’s log cabin high in the mountains, hoping that the mountain air and change of view would help inspire her to write something great.

Instead all it seemed to do is make her want to go hiking, build a warm fire and chill out with a bottle of wine.  Her story had remained untouched.

She grabbed her glass and made her way over to the sofa that sat in front of the fireplace.  She pressed the glass to her lips, feeling the wine trickle over her tongue, the scent of the crushed grapes flooding her nostrils.

The fire crackled and popped, the flames licking the wooden logs.  The dance of the orange and yellow flames were almost hypnotising. 

Rhiannon took a sip from her glass, her blue-green eyes watching the fireplace.  All she wanted was a good idea.  Something that had never been done before.  Something fresh and amazing that would have her publishing house weeping for joy.

Finishing off her glass of wine, Rhiannon stood up.  Her bare feet pattered lightly over the hardwood floors as she returned to the kitchen.  

Glancing around, Rhiannon studied the d├ęcor.  Her father wasn’t exactly known for his decorating tastes.  There were animal heads on the walls and a bear skin rug in front of the fireplace.  Rhiannon studied the deer head near the dining room table.  It looked fake.  Rhiannon certainly hoped it was fake.

She made her way back over to the couch.  The rug felt good beneath her bare feet.

Glancing out the window, Rhiannon smiled.  It had just started to snow.

Her right eyebrow arched as her eyes lit up.  She unbuttoned her jeans, sliding the denim over her hips and down her creamy white thighs.  She removed her white sweater and tank top, revealing her white lace bra, barely containing her ample cleavage.

She ran her hand over her taut stomach, feeling her bellyring dangle and dance beneath her palm.  She could feel her lace panties growing damp as her mind imagined it was his hand touching her, feeling her skin beneath his finger tips.  

Her hand grazed the top of her panties as her fingers slipped below the waistband.  Her skin was smooth and hot to touch.  

Slowly and sensually, she removed her bra and panties.  Standing naked before the flickering flames of the fire, Rhiannon let her hands roam over her body.  Cupping her breasts, she felt her nipples respond, perking up until they were as hard as diamonds.

Her hands traced down her body, feeling the curve of her hip.  Her fingers followed the lines of her butterfly tattoo.

The fire crackled causing her to jump.  Rhiannon giggled to herself before taking a seat on the rug.  The fur tickled her flesh, which was aching with desire.  

Lightly her hands caressed her body.  Soft, feathery touches across her nipples, teasing them further, tweaking them in between her fingers, pulling them until they were taut.  

She began to wish that he was here with her, rolling her around on the bear skin rug, making passionate love to her the way he use to.  

She wished she could feel his breath on her face as he dusted kisses along her forehead and down her nose.  She wished she could feel his hands running over her body, cupping her breasts, rubbing her nipples.  She wished she could feel his lips enclosing around them, sucking them.  She wished she could feel his tongue trailing down in between her ample chest, following an invisible line that would circle around her bellybutton before following the curve of her hip and trailing down over her sweet sex until he began tickling her clitoris as two of his fingers probed her body.

Her own hand snaked down her body and began teasing her already throbbing clit.  Her fingers rubbed and explored her body while her mind drifted back to the last night she had spent with him.  He had held her tight while his quivering member slid into her, filling her, pleasing her.

She loved the feeling of him atop her.  She loved the pressure of his chest pressed against hers.  She loved when, midway through their lovemaking, he would flip her over and take her from behind.  

She loved the feeling of his body slamming into hers.  Just the memory of it was enough to cause her body to shake with anticipation as juices seeped down her thighs.

She pinched her own nipple, arching her back as she plunged two fingers deep inside her, feeling how hot and wet she was.  Rhiannon was surprised over how her body responded to him.  A million miles from him and he was still playing her body like a harp.

Her fingers manipulated her body, rubbing over her clitoris as they withdrew before sliding back inside her and pressing against her G-spot.  

A fire spread through her lower abdomen.  She could feel an orgasm building deep within her.  Her fingers brushed lightly over her clit as her hand moved more rapidly.  

Rhiannon’s breathing became quicker, more shallow, as she divulged to her body’s want and desire.  Her hand moved at a fevered pace and with the last motion of pressing against her G-spot, she came hard.

Panting, she let her hand fall over her thigh.  Every nerve was alive, like it was on fire.  She rolled over, the fur from the rug teased her nipples.  

Her blonde hair fell across her eyes as she pulled herself to her feet.

She was a little shaky on her feet as she made her way over to the dining room table.  Still naked she sat down, reaching for another bottle of wine.  Popping the cork, Rhiannon smiled as she put the bottle to her lips.  Reaching across the table, Rhiannon grabbed her laptop as a new, fresh and amazing idea formed in her mind.

Saturday, March 9, 2013

Happy Birthday To Me


I stared at the clock.  11:57PM.  There was only three minutes left to celebrate my birthday.

11:58.

Make that two.

I stared at my phone, furious that it hadn't rung.  It was my birthday and the only thing I wanted was a phone call from my boyfriend.  He hadn't even sent me a birthday text message.  Oh sure, he had said Happy Birthday via Facebook, but that wasn't enough.

11:59.

As time ticked by, my rage grew.  All I wanted was a birthday phone call.  I had told him that at least five times.  Now he was off playing World Of Warcraft or some other online game with his friends, while I sat at home stewing over how insensitive my boyfriend is.

12:00.

My birthday was officially over.

I picked up my phone and sent him a message.  “Thanks for the birthday call.  I really appreciated it.”  I turned my phone off, snuggled beneath the blankets and closed my eyes, hoping that when I wake I would be in a better mood.

My eyes flickered open as the sun streamed in through my curtains.  Despite having a decent night’s sleep I was still crabby.  I sat up and turned my phone on.  There was no reply.

I had a quick shower and threw on a pair of jeans and a black T-shirt.  I laced up my sneakers before grabbing my purse and running out of the house, telling my father I was having lunch in the city with my boyfriend.

I ran all the way to the train station and boarded the next train.

For the next hour I sat in silence, staring out the window.  I wasn't really meeting my boyfriend, but I planned on travelling to his place to rip him a new asshole for not calling me like he promised he would.

Yes, I was still pissed about that.  It was the one thing I wanted more then anything this year and he promised.  He had told me that his word was as strong as oak and that whatever he said he was going to do, he would do.  Clearly, those were just words.

I hopped off the train and made my way through the streets until I was outside his place.  Opening the front gate, I made my way up the front steps before entering the house.  

I stood outside his bedroom door, wondering if I should knock.  A little voice in my head said “Why should you be courteous?  This asshole didn't bother to ring you on your birthday.”

I opened the bedroom door.

My boyfriend was asleep, stretched out in his bed, his mouth open as he snored loudly.  My hands bawled into fists at my side.  Not only did he not bother to keep his promise to me, he was still in bed, sleeping at 10:45AM.

I walked out of the bedroom, entering the bathroom before closing and locking the door behind me.  I stared at my reflection in the mirror.  I could see the rage behind my eyes.  If I didn't calm myself down, I would probably do something I’d regret.

I gave my face a quick wash before exiting the bathroom.  I opened his bedroom door, took one long look at him and let out a war like cry as I charged towards the bed.  

My boyfriend’s eyes opened as I jumped on top of him, my hands wrapping around his throat.  “What-?” he said, startled by my sudden appearance.

I began squeezing his throat, putting all my weight on him.  His hands gripped my arms and pushed me off.

“What the fuck is your problem?!” he demanded, rubbing his throat.

I picked up his baseball bat from behind the door.  “You are!” I cried, smiling in satisfaction as the bat connected with his skull with a loud crack.  

I kept swinging with all the force I could muster, watching my boyfriend’s handsome features disappear behind a wall of blood.

With one last swing, the bat snapped in half and my boyfriend’s body dropped to the floor.

“You should have kept your promise, asshole.”

I turned and walked out of the bedroom, closing the door behind me.  I entered the kitchen, my hands shaking.  

My boyfriend’s roommate entered behind me.  “Whoa,” he said, staring at my hand.  “That’s a lot of blood.”

“Oh yeah, I cut myself,” I stammered, turning on the tap and washing the blood off.  “Damn paper cuts.  Hurt more then anything else.”

“Yup, I have to agree with you on that.”

He turned his back to me as he began rummaging through the fridge in search of something to snack on.

Suddenly his arms flailed about as he cried out in pain.  He launched forward, knocking the shelves and food out of the fridge.  I watched as he struggled to reach the handle that was sticking out of his back.

“Here, let me help you,” I said, reaching for the kitchen knife and giving it a good twist.

He screamed in pain.  He reached for the phone but I calmly knocked it away.  

I gave him a shove directly into the wall so that the knife plunged deeper into his back.  “Just.  Drop.  Dead,” I said through clenched teeth, shoving him once again into the wall.

This time he dropped to the ground and didn't move.  Just to be sure, I removed the knife, rolled him over and stabbed him repeatedly in the heart.

When I was convinced that he was dead, I stood up, wiping the blood from my forehead.  

I took a long shower, washing the blood from my body and hair, before changing into some clothes I had left at my boyfriend‘s house.  I wrapped the knife in my T-shirt before throwing it into a bag along with my blood stained jeans.

As I exited the house, bag in hand, a smile crept to my face.

“Happy Birthday to me…”