Hello everybody! This is just a little story I came up with while sitting
through a power outage. Did you know you can still write in a notebook
while huddling under three blankets? I never knew! I guess you learn
something new every day.
Anyways, the story is finished. Absolutely complete. Well. . . at least it's finished in my notebook. But between going to Uni full time and working full time, it's hard to find time to type the chapters up and post them. But have no fear!! I will try to have a chapter up every few days or so until it's done. It shouldn't take long. The story really isn't that long.
And now, on with the show! Err. . . story. . . yeah. On with the story!
Ice Cold Escapades Chapter One
I think that most people will agree with me that there are few things quite as bad as being frozen. I don't mean frozen like the ice cream that I ate before all of this happened. I mean frozen as in "It is snowing whole snowmen outside, my power is out, and my fiancé is nowhere to be found."
I wouldn't have eaten the ice cream if I had known my power was going to go out, but, as they say, hindsight is the only vision that is 20/20. Or is that foresight and hindsight just makes you feel stupid? I can never remember, but for all intents and purposes we'll pretend I said it right.
I suppose you all are wondering if there is a point to all of this. The answer? Of course! Would I, Serena Taylor, tell a story that has no point to it? Wait. . . don't answer that if you know what's good for you.
My story began this morning. I was torn out of my peaceful slumber by the sound I can only think Satan's band in Hell would sound like. Few things can be so cruel and hateful. That's right. The sickeningly sweet sounds of my stupid alarm clock were echoing through my small bedroom.
I swung my fist as hard as I could with the intent to smash the little thing to pieces. Upon impact, only two things registered in my hazy mind: one, the band from Hell was still marching, and two, my target, which was supposed to be hard, inanimate plastic, had been soft and very alive. And now it was moving.
Now before I continue, let me enlighten some of you. While awake, men will insist that any hit from a girl doesn't hurt, or even sting for that matter! The truth? If you catch a man by surprise, he will admit he's hurt. And he'll milk the pity for all it's worth. What does that have to do with anything? Instead of pulverizing that horrid clock, I had buried my fist in my fiancé's slumbering form. Oops? I guess an alarm clock isn't quite as bad a wake up call as a solid punch in the stomach.
As soon as I realized what I had done, I shot up from my pillow. I could see one midnight blue eye glaring at me from beneath the blankets to my right.
"Serena!" The deepest, most longsuffering sigh was uttered from the handsome man beneath the blankets. "You know, they coined the phrase 'rude awakening' because they knew someday you would be born and it would describe your morning habits perfectly. I was sleeping you know! And that hurt!"
Have I mentioned that my man isn't quite a morning person? Well. . . at least he's not until he's had a mug of coffee. . . or two. . . or four. . .
On the other hand, he had more than enough reason to be upset. I don't think I'd be a basket of daisies if I was woken up like that. Hey, is 'basket of daisies' even a phrase, or did I make that up? Oh. . right. . stay on track Serena.
"I'm so sorry," I squealed at him. "I wasn't looking! That stupid clock is just so. . . so. . . stupid!!"
"Oh the eloquence," he teased. "My lady, you have a way with words like no other."
"I'll show you eloquence!"
Before I could swing my fist of steel at his unsuspecting shoulder, I was pinned. Are men allowed to move that fast? I mean, one minute he's hiding under my goose down comforter, and the next he's got my wrists pinned on either side of me and his face is hovering over mine. Not that I'm complaining or anything. . .
"The way I see it," he murmured, "you owe me. I'm probably going to have a bruise there."
I was speechless. You see, my fabulous fiancé is absolutely the sexiest man alive. If you ask any woman that has ever seen him, she will state that no man can compare to the ultra fine Darien Shields. The greatest thing about it is that he's ALL MINE! When the sexiest man alive is pinning you to your mattress and giving you that 'you know you like this and you know it's going to be fun' look, you don't argue. Well. . . you don't argue much.
"It's not my fault you got in my way!" Way to go Serena. . . great comeback. Keep him on his toes. . . I am such an idiot sometimes!
Darien formed the cutest pout. "I didn't know you were abusive when I put that ring on your finger. . . is it too late to reconsider?"
Ouch. "Oh honey, you know I didn't mean to hit you." Oh no. . . I'm falling into his trap. . .
"You'll just have to make it up to me."
He lowered his perfect face so that his lips hovered just over mine. Oh the sweet bliss that is his kisses. Unfortunately, there is one thing that can ruin these oh-so-soon-to-be-steamy moments.
"You have the worst morning breath," I mumbled without thinking about it. I am such an idiot sometimes!
"I was going to say the same to you." He chuckled as he rolled off the bed and strolled towards the bathroom.
I can't really complain. I got to watch him walk away clad only in the pair of black satin boxers that I bought him for Christmas! Does somebody have a napkin? I'm drooling just thinking about it!
But I digress! You see, that was just the beginning of it all. There's nothing like beginning the day with the guilt of having pummeled the love of your life. Who knew it could all go down from there?
Sorry guys. I think I might have a couple dozen grammar mistakes hidden in there somewhere, but I've been so excited with how this is turning out that I don't really care about grammar right now. Eventually I'll go through and edit this thing. Maybe I'll edit how much Serena rambles as well. Now that I read through it she really does talk too much. . . kind of like me. . .
Let me know what you think! I'll keep uploading chapters whether or not I hear from you, but it's always nice to know one is appreciated! Or hated! Whichever! But please, if you're going to flame me, please throw a couple marshmallows in with the flame. I love toasted marshmallows. Oh, and please send it to my e-mail. I'm not one for public displays of hatred.
Buh-bye for now! ~Fiara
Anyways, the story is finished. Absolutely complete. Well. . . at least it's finished in my notebook. But between going to Uni full time and working full time, it's hard to find time to type the chapters up and post them. But have no fear!! I will try to have a chapter up every few days or so until it's done. It shouldn't take long. The story really isn't that long.
And now, on with the show! Err. . . story. . . yeah. On with the story!
Ice Cold Escapades Chapter One
I think that most people will agree with me that there are few things quite as bad as being frozen. I don't mean frozen like the ice cream that I ate before all of this happened. I mean frozen as in "It is snowing whole snowmen outside, my power is out, and my fiancé is nowhere to be found."
I wouldn't have eaten the ice cream if I had known my power was going to go out, but, as they say, hindsight is the only vision that is 20/20. Or is that foresight and hindsight just makes you feel stupid? I can never remember, but for all intents and purposes we'll pretend I said it right.
I suppose you all are wondering if there is a point to all of this. The answer? Of course! Would I, Serena Taylor, tell a story that has no point to it? Wait. . . don't answer that if you know what's good for you.
My story began this morning. I was torn out of my peaceful slumber by the sound I can only think Satan's band in Hell would sound like. Few things can be so cruel and hateful. That's right. The sickeningly sweet sounds of my stupid alarm clock were echoing through my small bedroom.
I swung my fist as hard as I could with the intent to smash the little thing to pieces. Upon impact, only two things registered in my hazy mind: one, the band from Hell was still marching, and two, my target, which was supposed to be hard, inanimate plastic, had been soft and very alive. And now it was moving.
Now before I continue, let me enlighten some of you. While awake, men will insist that any hit from a girl doesn't hurt, or even sting for that matter! The truth? If you catch a man by surprise, he will admit he's hurt. And he'll milk the pity for all it's worth. What does that have to do with anything? Instead of pulverizing that horrid clock, I had buried my fist in my fiancé's slumbering form. Oops? I guess an alarm clock isn't quite as bad a wake up call as a solid punch in the stomach.
As soon as I realized what I had done, I shot up from my pillow. I could see one midnight blue eye glaring at me from beneath the blankets to my right.
"Serena!" The deepest, most longsuffering sigh was uttered from the handsome man beneath the blankets. "You know, they coined the phrase 'rude awakening' because they knew someday you would be born and it would describe your morning habits perfectly. I was sleeping you know! And that hurt!"
Have I mentioned that my man isn't quite a morning person? Well. . . at least he's not until he's had a mug of coffee. . . or two. . . or four. . .
On the other hand, he had more than enough reason to be upset. I don't think I'd be a basket of daisies if I was woken up like that. Hey, is 'basket of daisies' even a phrase, or did I make that up? Oh. . right. . stay on track Serena.
"I'm so sorry," I squealed at him. "I wasn't looking! That stupid clock is just so. . . so. . . stupid!!"
"Oh the eloquence," he teased. "My lady, you have a way with words like no other."
"I'll show you eloquence!"
Before I could swing my fist of steel at his unsuspecting shoulder, I was pinned. Are men allowed to move that fast? I mean, one minute he's hiding under my goose down comforter, and the next he's got my wrists pinned on either side of me and his face is hovering over mine. Not that I'm complaining or anything. . .
"The way I see it," he murmured, "you owe me. I'm probably going to have a bruise there."
I was speechless. You see, my fabulous fiancé is absolutely the sexiest man alive. If you ask any woman that has ever seen him, she will state that no man can compare to the ultra fine Darien Shields. The greatest thing about it is that he's ALL MINE! When the sexiest man alive is pinning you to your mattress and giving you that 'you know you like this and you know it's going to be fun' look, you don't argue. Well. . . you don't argue much.
"It's not my fault you got in my way!" Way to go Serena. . . great comeback. Keep him on his toes. . . I am such an idiot sometimes!
Darien formed the cutest pout. "I didn't know you were abusive when I put that ring on your finger. . . is it too late to reconsider?"
Ouch. "Oh honey, you know I didn't mean to hit you." Oh no. . . I'm falling into his trap. . .
"You'll just have to make it up to me."
He lowered his perfect face so that his lips hovered just over mine. Oh the sweet bliss that is his kisses. Unfortunately, there is one thing that can ruin these oh-so-soon-to-be-steamy moments.
"You have the worst morning breath," I mumbled without thinking about it. I am such an idiot sometimes!
"I was going to say the same to you." He chuckled as he rolled off the bed and strolled towards the bathroom.
I can't really complain. I got to watch him walk away clad only in the pair of black satin boxers that I bought him for Christmas! Does somebody have a napkin? I'm drooling just thinking about it!
But I digress! You see, that was just the beginning of it all. There's nothing like beginning the day with the guilt of having pummeled the love of your life. Who knew it could all go down from there?
Sorry guys. I think I might have a couple dozen grammar mistakes hidden in there somewhere, but I've been so excited with how this is turning out that I don't really care about grammar right now. Eventually I'll go through and edit this thing. Maybe I'll edit how much Serena rambles as well. Now that I read through it she really does talk too much. . . kind of like me. . .
Let me know what you think! I'll keep uploading chapters whether or not I hear from you, but it's always nice to know one is appreciated! Or hated! Whichever! But please, if you're going to flame me, please throw a couple marshmallows in with the flame. I love toasted marshmallows. Oh, and please send it to my e-mail. I'm not one for public displays of hatred.
Buh-bye for now! ~Fiara