
So, I decided to read my Tarot cards today. I’m into all that stuff. Why not? It’s no sillier than anything else. In ancient times they used to slaughter animals and read their entrails…at least I don’t do that. The cleaning up of that would be a bitch. Anyway, I always read my runes everyday and chuck them back into the bag when they don’t say what I want them to and I absolutely believe them when they say what I want to hear. I’m a simple creature at heart. No, really, I am…sort of.
So, as my life is going through one of those what-the-bloody-hell-am-I-doing-stages, I thought I would break out the Tarot cards and give myself a reading. I read in the Celtic cross pattern. Why? I want to. What did the cards say? That I would meet a tall, dark, handsome stranger and have wild, uncontrolled sex that would leave me bound to him through eternity? Nope. That I would be showered with great wealth and have the power beyond my wildest

Is life ever as simple as turning a card? No, we all know that - but wouldn’t it be good if it was? That you could immediately see future problems and avoid them, that you would shut up when you should and accept stuff that you are reluctant to accept because it complicates your life. I used to work with a woman at Promptel….umm…let’s call her Lavinia, no, not her real name. Lavinia loudly declared to one and all that she was clairvoyant. She would scuttle up to you and tell you amazingly incorrect
things about yourself. Me, being me, would agree with all she had said because it made her deliriously happy to believe she was correct and she would leave you sooner if you agreed. The crazy need support as much as anyone. What sort of things would she tell me? Lavinia would tell me all about my husband, where he worked and what his hobbies were when he came home from work. Only flaw in this was I have no husband. She would tell me about my great love of golf (huh?), my passion for table decorating (what the?), my desire to climb mountains and be at one with nature with my dog (nuh-ah) and how I canoed down the Murray River with my fictitious husband on our anniversary (Riiiight). People thought Lavinia was nuts, and rightly so, but the thing is the woman had passion – crazy as a frigging loon but passionate.
Winner of the Eternally Yours contest –
1st Prize - Rasha Hamdi
2nd Prize - Eva Minaskanian
3rd prize - Tara Woods
Thanks to everyone who entered. Remember there is still time to win with Anny Cook’s contest on www.annycook.com – check it out.1st Prize - Rasha Hamdi
2nd Prize - Eva Minaskanian
3rd prize - Tara Woods
A moment from Marlow’s Curse…released March 21st through Ellora’s Cave
The Legend of the St Michael Witches
If a St Michael witch be unwilling, great pain will afall ye. Your innards will twist and your manhood die. Seek no help as none will come.
If a St Michael witch be willing, true love and pleasure will be yours for an eternity as those who give themselves only in love will take no other.
Present Day
“Touch me and it will be the last thing you ever do you bastard,” Sybylla St Michael hissed threateningly between gritted teeth as she stared her enemy in the eyes. The demon before her grinned with malicious delight at her words and he threw back his head and laughed. His rancid breath polluted the air and his yellow eyes held an evil deadly gleam. Sybylla stared back defiantly willing herself not to flinch at his repulsiveness or choke on the fumes that strangled her senses. There was no way she would show fear to this hideous son of hell.
“Tough talk for a woman who is strung up tight against a wall and is helpless, witch,” Scar pointed out as he ran one long gnarled finger along her jaw toward her mouth. In his other hand he held a wickedly long knife. He hated this woman with a passion for what she had done to him. Making her pay was his one goal in life.
Sybylla opened her mouth wanting that ugly finger to slide inside so she could bite down hard on it and hear the sound of bone crunching as the demon screamed in pain. Even though the taste of him would be disgusting, Sybylla knew she would enjoy biting his finger off and spitting it back into Scar’s revolting face.
“Face it witch woman, you are trapped and I can do whatever I like to you.” Scar’s fingers trailed down from her mouth to her neck and to her breasts. “You know you are quite fuckable for a witch.” His finger circled one cotton covered nipple lazily.
“Go fuck yourself!” Sybylla spat out loathing the feel of the creature’s hand on her breast.
Hmmm…whatever happens next?
Anny has great words of wisdom on www.annycook.blogspot.com while Kelly soldiers on gracefully on www.kkirch.blogspot.com
www.freewebs.com/amarindajones/
Go ahead: Live with abandon. Be outrageous at any age. What are you saving your best self for?
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