Interracial Erotica

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Hey folks!

Yes indeed I'm still alive and writing again. Yay! Be on the lookout for story updates.

Anyway, this post isn't about me.


Business Before Pleasure part six by R.W. Shannon is now available. Stop by and let her know what you think.

Cheers!







    Happy New Year everyone! Trust me, if you had a year like I did last year, this one can only get better. You know the saying, "When life gives you lemons..." Well apparently I'm in the lemonade business.

    I want to thank Tracy and her back-end team. You know those lemons? When they were raining on me the size of ... Well, a size that fruit damn well shouldn't be. You helped. Thank you.

    So, LP is up. Yeah, I'm finishing it this year (three years of writing this is pretty harsh). I keep apologizing to Tracy that this opus is certainly not a Novella. She keeps on telling me, "Who cares?" God bless her!

    I just wanted you all to know that I'm really at the end. These last installments exist to tie up a few loose ends that you probably forgot about three years ago. Heck, I had to go and read over some stuff just to refresh MY memory (all I can say is I know I need a copy editor-thanks for struggling through some of that mess).

    I wish I could toast you all. My LP audience helped give me something else to focus on than just...lemons. Lemonade champagne anyone? (Now that just sounds truly nasty)


      Familiar and Familial

      My uncle passed away Oct. 18th, eight years to the day his daughter died, so I’m in Cali with my enormous maternal family.

      People say that once you leave home you can never return, being that our experiences after leaving have buffered us about with such force that our round shape no longer fits into the square hole of our past.

      Bollocks.

      When we return home, we create a wrinkle in the time-space continuum and immediately confront our past and present selves, while the faces have aged somewhat and the number of children inexplicably multiplied, everything and nothing have changed.

      I believe this is why during times of adversity and grief we cling to the familiar and familial.

      We gather and weather the storm. We laugh and overeat but this doesn’t detract from the gravitas of the occasion - it’s how we cope – which explains why the mood shifts the moment the hearse arrives.

      My big mash-up of a family was no different. All smiles faded with a brisk rush of emotion as if our true purpose was suddenly evident.

      I held up pretty well until the very end of the service, and then the dam broke triggering a domino effect with my aunt, mom, cousins, and the like in hot pursuit. I couldn’t hold it inside anymore, my iron spine bent.

      Afterwards, we invited everyone back to my aunt’s house for dinner. There was more laughter, kids running about, the retelling of stories (most horribly embarrassing), and an ungodly amount of food and picture taking.

      Oddly, this wrinkle in the time-space continuum when we’re simultaneously our present and former selves for a few precious moments in the company of our loved ones sustained us. Our roots don’t hold us captive; they’re our anchors so blown about by every gust of wind. But where dark storm clouds roll in and we find ourselves going under, our roots are a safe harbor, our connection to the familiar and familial.






        Here We Go...

        Just a note:

        Please do not email the authors or me if you have been blocked from commenting on the site.

        ONLY stalking, spamming, and inappropriate comments will land you on the blocked list so once there you’re never ever coming off. Period.



        Persistent attempts will result in permanent exclusion from the site – i.e. denied access to IRE.net.

        My site. My rules. End of story.




        On a lighter note, I have picked up my pen again. Inspiration struck between pharmacy visits. Yay! :-D





          Healing and Moving On

          Sorry I haven’t been posting as often as I should. My life sucks right now. No, seriously. It sucks. My Grandma is unwell and my uncle has been given an expiration date.

          Though I’m damn good at pouring my heart out to you guys, I don’t wanna flood the site with the emo ranting which would undoubtedly happen if I opened the floodgates.

          And then there’s my stupid habit of putting others before myself which is fine under normal circumstances. But now, when need time to heal my heart from recent events and ready it for the inevitable, I have to push everyone away and that’s not easy for me.

          On a lighter note, BC and Isaac are officially in school. They’re both in the same class and BC has already gotten into his first fight. Well, it wasn’t so much a fight as altercation. Some little boy did/said something then pushed BC. BC then took off his Wellie and clocked the kid with it and, even under the threat of getting paddled, refused to apologize. In his words, “I’m sorry for being loud, but I’m not sorry for hitting him.”

          Of course, this is our fault. We taught him the proper way to apologize. Grand sweeping apologies aren’t acceptable because they lack thought and sincerity. He has to explain why he's doing it and accept the punishment if he doesn't. So when the teacher called because BC dug his heels in on a sticking point, we weren’t surprised. BC and his teacher adore one another - they send each other little notes and flowers - but at that point she could’ve threatened him with death and he wouldn't have cared.

          Long story short: he was paddled, he was embarrassed for upsetting the teacher, we had the kid over that following Saturday, now they’re friends. Neither of them nor Isaac, my abnormally articulate nephew, can explain why their argument became physical. BC is calm and cool so for him to hit someone* or act out in any way, it must have been pretty bad.

          I guess it was a case of ‘this shit just got real!’



          *We don't even play fight in our house. Sparring with non-lethal intent, yes. Play fight, no.




            It's up everybody! If you get a chance and can comment, I would appreciate it.











              Hiya folks!

              The Lion's Pride: 19 is available. Stop by and let Olga know what you think.

              Cheers!


              *OLGA UPDATE Sept. 9th*
              Hello All! just wanted to let you know that I going tweak this chapter a bit. I must have been delirious when I pressed "send" on this one because I'm not sure I'm pleased with its flow and the typos are driving me crazy. So if you check back on it and you see some slight changes-your eyes are not playing tricks on you. I just want to make some minor changes so that when I read this chapter again, I won't want to throw my laptop out of the window any more than usual.









                Throwing Shade

                Yesterday, my sister in-law and I went to a street market where she mistook a bourdaloue, a genteel urinary receptacle women would slip beneath their dresses to relieve themselves, for a gravy boat.

                Look at them. It’s an easy mistake, right?

                 

                Anyway, an hour into our fantastic voyage, she came bounding towards me, clenching her booty and beaming with pride. I took the lovely piece of crockery from her grasp until she resumed proper brain function and explained how she haggled and stuck it to the man. Roooaarrr!

                Seeing her all empowered broke my heart, but I had to tell her the truth: her beloved gravy boat, the one she’d fought for, was in fact a portable piss pot.

                A few false starts later, I took her to a coffee stand since copious amounts of caffeine is a cure-all and seemed a good a place as any to throw shade.



                She got a little pouty when I broke the news but her Ames’ stoicism dashed any threat of a public display of emotion. After the disappointment faded, we laughed about it and agreed that if the family insists on stuffy, formal holiday gatherings, her piss pot is going on the table!

                A Bourdaloue


                A Gravy Boat




                  Hey folks,

                  "
                  The Layover" by Michelle is now available. Check it out and let her know what you think.
                   










                    The Universe Hates Me

                    We went to Boston and all I came back with was a low grade fever. I’m not sure what happened but I feel like twice baked shit.

                    The weekend began normal if not a bit boring. Somewhere between Friday’s father/daughter ball and Sunday’s family brunch, I picked up something.

                    At least the kids are well. I’m the only one sick. To be perfectly honest, my spine is on fire. I told 50Mil this might be the end. He wasn’t amused.

                    Anyway, I’d like to introduce Kelley to the IRE family. Kelley is a newbie and she’d love your feedback. Her first submission is “The Warrior”. Please stop by and let her know what you think.








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