Saturday, January 28, 2012

Hot Short Stories: Neale Sourna's North Coast Academies' Diary (NCAD) / Journal (NCAJ) [available, even the ones BANNED by Amazon Kindle, so there]

Neale Sourna's North Coast Academies' Diary (NCAD),Vol. 4, Issue 1 [Vol. 4.1]

BUY Vol 4, Issue 1 -- Tad: The Switch-hitter, His Twink, and His Teacher--A Lust Novella (M/M/M) [22 horny chapters, 25,139 words] [banned at Kindle, get it elsewhere below]

NCAJ1 NCA Journal 1 is Adult Erotic Fiction, the compiled short stories from Volumes 1-3 of North Coast Academies' Diary. PRINT BOOK (POD) and EBOOK [banned at Kindle, get it elsewhere below]

BUY Vol 3, Issue 1-- 3 Sex Views: Ross, Laila, and Sascha [16,337 words] -- 3 HUGE, hardcore stories for the price of just 1!!!

BUY Vol 3, Issue 1.1 -- Sascha: Laila's Classmate-Public Parking, Sex Squared [8289 words]

BUY Vol 3, Issue 1.2 -- Laila: Smarty Schoolgirl-Daddy's Willing Little Slut [3711 words]

BUY Vol 3, Issue 1.3 -- Ross: Laila's Stepdad-My Daughter's Anal [Asshole] Cherry [4337 words]

BUY Vol 2, Issue 1 -- Ross: Daddy's Little Whore, uh, Seductress [8401 words]

BUY Vol 1, Issue 2 -- Yune: Suck My Kiss [3677 words]

BUY Vol 1, Issue 1 -- Laila: Cozy With Daddy [7857 words]


NEW, Sexy and Exciting Ebooks online from YOUR WRITER Neale Sourna.

BUY Adobe Reader (PDF), Kindle-Mobipocket, and Print; epub editions to come.

Find everywhere online! And order offline, too; just ask!

eBookMall (Adobe PDF)

Ebook Eros

EbookPie

GoHastings

Lybrary.com

Kobo Books

TookBook

Starland Books

Diesel Ebooks (Adobe Digital / Kindle-Mobi)

Powell's (paperback print book / ebooks

AbeBooks (paperback print books only)

Barnes&Noble (paperback print books only)

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also Amazon's European (Euro), Canadian, Australia / New Zealand Stores

Neale Sourna at Amazon.com (ebooks & paperback print books) (some items not available _ banned by Amazon)

Amazon Kindle Store (Kindle-Mobi ebooks only) (some items not available _ banned by Amazon)

Amazon A-store aka Neale's Sexy Store (some items not available _ banned by Amazon)

Books On Board (nonfiction ebooks only)

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Mobipocket Store (Mobipocket only) (closes Jan 02, 2012; consolidates all stock to Kindle Store)

Microsoft Reader Store (closed, all MS Reader ebooks out of production, out of stock per Microsoft 2011)

Fictionwise Ebooks ("Hobble" only)

Palm format ("Hobble" only)

and at other quality online and offline independent and chain booksellers you love!!

Just ask your Wholesalers and Retailers to purchase Neale Sourna / PIE: Perception Is Everything books and ebooks through Ingram's /Ingram Content or Lightning Source and Amazon Kindle.

Your Unique Sexy Valentine's Story: Neale Sourna's "Hobble" [An Adult Fiction]

My baby, HOBBLE [An Adult Novel], has won an award: Best of Year in Romantic Erotica. Yippee and huzzah!!

What a surprise! Thank you so much. It looks "mahhhvelous," don't you think? Thank you, Dolores Thornton, thank you, BlackRefer.com, for this sehr tres cool honor. -- Neale


 
"Hobble is a book that you must read."--RAWSistaz Reviews

* * *
"...the narrative style is rather appealing...an interesting story...I would read again...it rather intrigued me. The heroine is unique."--Sensual Romance Reviews
* * *
"When's your next one coming out?"--Several Cleveland, Ohio Readers to the author
* * *
"The numerous sex scenes...show...natural spark."--Absinthe Literary Review

Available as Trade Paperback, Adobe Reader, MS Reader, Palm, MobiPocket, Amazon Kindle


Printed Novel eBook
"Dipping into several genres from erotica to mystery, even sprinkling a little comedy into the mix, Sourne created a story like no other. This ... tale had me shaking my head in astonishment and I can honestly say I never read anything like Hobble before. Sourne wrote a novel with such a large supply of twist and turns it'll have you dropping your mouth in shock. But be forewarned, Hobble has a crazy mix of characters.... Some of the sex scenes had me (a person who loves erotica) squirming. Although the book is racy, it was an interesting read and should be picked up by anyone who enjoys reading something different from the norm."
--Joy Farringdon, Nubian Sistas Review
READ Full Review
"Hobble is a story of lust and obsessive sex...I was so moved...I went back to my (Franklin) dictionary...hobble means to limp along ... to impede ... to tie-up, shackle or leash...all of [which] were used in this steamy story, of sex, ... and betrayal!"--Delores Thornton, www.BlackRefer.com Reviews
READ Delores' full review
[A www.BlackRefer.com Review]
INTERVIEWS for you to HEAR and READ at
PIE: Percept.com FREE Audio

READ Jordan Duke of ScriptCLEVELAND'S written informative
INTERVIEW: Jan 2003, Neale Sourna's HOBBLE


Find NEW erotic stories online from YOUR WRITER Neale Sourna, for Kindle, Kobo, IPad, and more.
BUY Neale Sourna erotic literature Books & Ebooks with lots of erotic sex NOW at:
NEW, Sexy and Exciting Ebooks online from YOUR WRITER Neale Sourna.
BUY Adobe Reader (PDF), Kindle-Mobipocket, and Print; epub editions to come.
Find everywhere online! And order offline, too; just ask!
--------------
also Amazon's European (Euro), Canadian, Australia / New Zealand Stores
Neale Sourna at Amazon.com (ebooks & paperback print books) (some items not available _ banned by Amazon)
Amazon Kindle Store (Kindle-Mobi ebooks only) (some items not available _ banned by Amazon)
Amazon A-store aka Neale's Sexy Store (some items not available _ banned by Amazon)
--------------
Mobipocket Store (Mobipocket only) (closes Jan 02, 2012; consolidates all stock to Kindle Store)
Microsoft Reader Store (closed, all MS Reader ebooks out of production, out of stock per Microsoft 2011)
Fictionwise Ebooks ("Hobble" only)
Palm format ("Hobble" only)
and at other quality online and offline independent and chain booksellers you love!!
Just ask your Wholesalers and Retailers to purchase Neale Sourna / PIE: Perception Is Everything books and ebooks through Ingram's /Ingram Content or Lightning Source and Amazon Kindle.


by

Excerpt 1


I literally fell for her; tripped over and fell on her, on the sunny, gritty beach of Virginia Beach. I wasn't spiritually...emotionally lost, I believe; but, what we "believe" is so very often wrong. I suppose I was inactively, instinctively hunting something...something I almost felt, but couldn't as yet begin to verbalize.
Anyway, because of muggers, mad dogs, and badly driven cars, I'm always very aware of everything and everyone around me, when I take my morning run; but, it was late in the day. So, maybe because my flight'd been delayed or because I'd become strangely out-of-synch or...?
My mind was...fixated on a problem, now entirely forgotten, as I turned my head, toward the frightened, anguished cry of a lone sea bird, who sounded...terribly and despairingly lonely to me...and, somehow, devastatingly lost. And, in gazing aside at the bird, for all of two blind seconds, I knocked her down, onto the sand-a brown woman, in a long, potato sack, calico dress.
What a face!
An American face of excellently blended African and Native American genes, with a healthy little dollop of European blood, a terribly agitated face, as she fetally balled up in great pain and wouldn't let me look at her injured ankle.
I explained that she could "trust me", that I knew what I was doing, when I wasn't "knocking defenseless young women to the ground". She didn't laugh, slightly chuckle, or even crack the tiniest of a smile, and from furtive, dark eyes, she gave me a shaky, cursory once over-at the brown skin over hard-angled facial bones, at my black hair and dimly Asian eyes.
I have a lot more than "a healthy dollop of European blood" myself, from Dad's side, which explains the beard [a recent addition] and the general curliness of my hair, which I've let grow to its own rule for months now. But, despite the Old World genes, I look most like my mother's Peruvian-Incan/Mexican-Mayan, New World genes.
I told my hapless victim my name was Benn, Bennet Gillespie.
She took a more thorough, ill-at-ease view of me into her head, which was covered with tousles of...dark brown ringlets, which in the sunlight had auburn streaks, speckled with very premature silver. The sterling was incongruous with her physical youthfulness; but, the heartrending glance from those eyes hinted that it was well earned. Finally, she stared into my eyes, then nominally stopped cringing and gazed downward-as her ("demure" came oddly to mind)...as her demure signal permitting me to have my way with her, so to speak.
I checked her injury.
She had the shapely legs of an athlete or dancer, and wore battered out, lowheeled ankle boots, that were slightly Victorian or Edwardian or one of those old "-ian" styles, laced over soft, thick socks. The ankle moved stiffly, painfully. The footgear was in the way, so, I began unlacing to better ascertain how bad off it was, because sometimes there are hidden breaks and misleading damage.
She abruptly realized I was actually opening her boot and flinched away, shrieking at me; but, the small boot and sock slipped off into my hand. She fell silent, completely mortified, then started crying, wailing, in fact, lying flat back in the sand.
Besides the swelling I'd caused, her ankle had a deep cut. Not an immediately recent cut, that I might have caused her, but a deep, nicely healing, surgical one-and I know this because my mother was a surgeon and she'd made me take "real" medicine classes and be her assistant, to go with the rest of my training.
This cut was nicely, cosmetically stitched; but, I bet you, and I'd win, that the seam was there to repair something grossly traumatic.
She was lying there sobbing actual tears. I know because I pulled her hands away from her face and checked. However, whether the tears were also actually genuine...? I glanced up and down the beach and saw absolutely no one else around for continents. The nearest anything was a lonely looking, one-story beachhouse behind us, that was showing no life or interest in us, and I had a little insight.
She attempted stopping me, as she sat up and wordlessly defended her secret, until finally allowing me, in mute, humiliated resignation, to unlace the other boot-that stiff and pained ankle was also restitched. Both of them were sewn quite a way around, like a can opener makes a cut around a lid, until it's nearly severed. However the original lacerations had been made, it hadn't been by penknife or train wheel-I've seen the resulting cuts of both of those on the human body; these'd been done by something in between.
I asked if she lived nearby, I suggested I call for an ambulance, or I could carry her to my car at the hotel a mile or so back up the beach, and she obviously hated all my ideas. Noisily so. Who'd think so much mournfully, piercing sound could come out of such a perfect mouth. I began considering that she might be completely inarticulate, then, I had another insight-with her ankles this raw, she had to've come from nearby. I asked her, quite specifically, where she lived.
She clammed up like a petulant child and really didn't want to answer that, so I told her if I couldn't take her home, I'd have to take her to a hospital. I couldn't just leave her there, like a beached wha--.
"What are you doing to her, young man?"...[more Hobble at http://hobble.neale-sourna.com]

Wednesday, January 25, 2012

3 Free Short Story Chapters: Raj by Neale Sourna (soft romantic erotica)

Raj

by

Neale Sourna

A great Indian lady chooses a British Raj officer from the crowd for her amusement; but discovers her choice may bring her more than she expected.

-------

The tiresome British have been here for some time and find our ceremonies "fascinating" in a "quaint manner"; believing we are their British India. They do love parades in pretty clothes. And that is when I saw him, standing among the crowd of the faithful with two other "redcoat" officers kept back behind my official guard, as I entered for my official duties.

Our gazes locking upon the other caused a feeling as palpable as one's skin in an electrical storm.

Upon my exiting the temple, he was still there, just beyond the iron gates, separating us from them.

I spoke to my man and kept on, and the Britisher was collected and brought the secret way to my private apartments.

He was stripped—a fine figure from my hidden vantage—as he was washed and redressed in silks and finest linen, with only a few protests of good-natured curiosity from him, but no excessive, disrespectful attitude of superiority, or entitlement, so often rampant in one of his nation and race.

"What is your name, sir?"

He was startled by my appearance, and his eyes bulged, so did his linen trousers, when he beheld me in my simple gown, cut low between my generous breasts. He appeared unable to speak, or think.

"Sir. Your personal name, nor more."

"Sutton Palm—. Sutton. Ma'am." Hm. Very respectful, and attractive.

"Tell me what you thought, and felt, as your gaze first met mine. Exactly." He blushed, rather terribly.

"It wouldn't be proper, ma'am. Great Lady."

"Tell me, or I'll send you away, this instant." A look of distress distorted his fine, honest features. "Exactly, sir. Now." His gaze met mine in challenge, and then fell away.

"Nothing. My mind blanked, but I-I felt as one when caught in an electrical storm which makes the hairs upon one's body stand." Ah. Good answer.

* * * *

I took him by the hand and led him to a soft bed of pillows, and we reclined together...http://stories.neale-sourna.com/Raj.html

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

screenwritingu.com: 10 Commandments of Writing Your Screenplays.

The New 10 Commandments of Writing Screenplays.

Most people know about writing screenplays, but if you break these commandments, your soul will be damned to eternal amateur-damnation…

…Or maybe it’ll just be a bit more difficult to become a pro. Either way, you’ll want to really consider these guidelines as you write or rewrite your screenplay.

Writing Screenplays By Commandment

1. Entertain us…or it’s over!

Entertainment is the number one reason that people go to movies. Every producer and agent knows that. So it should be the #1 focus of your screenwriting. Become a master at making any character or situation entertaining and you’ll be a writer in demand.

To be blunt, if there is anything in your script that doesn’t entertain, fix it.

2. Make EVERYTHING more interesting.

The industry is filled with readers who are fed a gourmet diet of professional screenplays. If you want yours to stand out, it has to captivate their attention and cause them to forget that they are doing a job.

This should be an ongoing campaign of yours. Make your scenes more interesting. Make your characters more interesting. Make your dialogue more interesting. Make everything more interesting.

3. Give us a lead character we can’t stop following.

Professional screenwriters intentionally create characters we want to follow. They are unique, yet familiar. We can relate to them and want to go on the journey with that character.

In general, your protagonist should be the perfect person to lead us deep into this story and the conflict that is about to occur. Don’t settle for a good lead. Go for great.

4. Promise us something special…and deliver on it.

Somehow, you have to keep people reading until the last page. Here’s a solution.

About 15 years ago, I read a book called “A Story Is A Promise” by Bill Johnson. Since then, I’ve always looked at a script from the perspective of “What is the promise you’re making to the reader/audience and how do you keep it in a unique way?”

Essentially, you are promising some major achievement by the protagonist or some big confrontation that will happen in the 3rd Act between protag and antag. If the promise is strong enough, we’ll read every page to see what happens.

5. Show us deeper meaning.

Deeper meaning can be built into the plot, character, situations, actions, and dialogue of a script. It doesn’t have to be profound, just beneath the surface…and perceived by the audience.

Audiences and readers just don’t appreciate on-the-nose writing. Subtext gives them a chance to interact with the film. They have an internal experience of the story because they are interpreting what the dialogue and actions really mean.

Because of that, it is just as important to take care of the subtext of a story as it is to create the surface story.

6. Put your characters through hell.

Great parents take care of their children and don’t let harm come to them. Great writers put their characters in the worst possible places to challenge their beliefs and physical limitations.

Don’t get the two jobs mixed up. Audiences don’t go to movies to see characters lead safe lives. They want to see your characters take risks, experience danger, and barely escape from challenging situations.

Writing screenplays will make you a tough task-master. By your final draft, your characters should hate you for all the terrible things you did to them.

7. Free up your dialogue so you can express more character.

Beginning writers often fill their dialogue with exposition and story details, thus reducing the amount of character and creativity that shows up in that dialogue. Don’t do it.

Instead, put the exposition, information, and story details into the action and situations.

For example, instead of a trainer telling a new boxer that a certain philosophy doesn’t work, have him put the character in the boxing ring and learn it by having his ass kicked. Now, the trainer doesn’t have to lecture. In fact, he is free to talk about anything – breakfast, politics, his favorite dog, etc. – because the real meaning is being delivered through the action.

It completely frees you up so you can be much more creative with your dialogue.

8. Turn cliches into fresh ideas.

In the film industry, a cliché is defined as “something we’ve seen before.” If you write a script with the same plot or the same lead characters or the same situations, people will balk at them.

Audiences want to see familiar stories told in different ways and familiar characters with something special about them. That means that your characters, situations, actions, and dialogue need to have something unique to them.

Your challenge: Hunt down every cliché in your script and brainstorm more unique ways to accomplish their purpose. Give them a twist or unique spin or different voice. It takes a bit of work, but it instantly improves your screenplay.

9. Give yourself permission to write shit in your first draft…

…and push yourself for perfection in your final draft. Not the other way around.

This is a better strategy for writing screenplays than trying to be perfect on the first draft and shoving yourself into writer’s block.

First drafts are the time for total freedom of expression, not criticizing your writing. You want to discover what you can about your story, characters, etc.

On the other side, writers often send drafts to producers that aren’t even close to ready. That’s the time to bring out your internal critic and make sure this is a perfect draft.

The more in sync you are with your creative process, the faster you’ll achieve perfection.

10. Rethink your script…until it is the most amazing it can be.

This is the ultimate challenge of a professional screenwriter – having to rethink the same script over and over until you discover the perfect way to tell this story.

Even if you think your story or character is perfect, you should have the skills to re-envision it in many different ways. Not only will this help you write a better story, it will also help you work with production companies and Studios when they request script changes.

Make those 10 Commandments part of your daily writing and someday, you’ll be soon be writing screenplays like the Hollywood writing Gods.

——

And if you want to dramatically improve your ability to write screenplays, check out ScreenwritingU’s screenwriting classes.

These 10 Commandments are built into our classes. That may be why Script Magazine rated our classes #1 in their “Top 9 Online Screenwriting Courses.”

What Every BODY is Saying: An Ex-FBI Agent's Guide to Speed-Reading People [Paperback] Joe Navarro (Author), Marvin Karlins (Author)

A great reference on body language from an immigrant FBI officer.

Do you know what touching your nose could mean to others?

How to learn more from someone you interview, just by having a full clear view of their entire body...?

paperback

Kindle

Monday, January 23, 2012

Free Fiction Sci-fi Romance Short Story: Frictionless Sheets by Neale Sourna

Frictionless Sheets

Intergalactic Deep Space sometime in the Future

Straczynski's bloody, damnable "frictionless sheets." He'd had them freight teleported to us and we'd used them right away. Let's just say the exciting IDEA of "frictionless sheets" is an intriguing one, the actuality of using them, however, not so much a good idea.

Maybe only "half"-frictionless, you intrepid inventors out there?

It was a bad idea because we still have the basic physics of our universe. That a head banged against a resistant wall or headboard will have a reciprocal reaction, as Sir Isaac Newton pointed out so long ago—an equal and opposite force—and, once again, I and my partner, without any tangible drag holding us in safe place, rocketed off our nuptial bunk with its slick, new sheets.

Into the far bulkhead, in an unseemly tangle of bruised arms, legs, and one dented, twisted male appendage. The latter of which is deeply cherished by us both, and upon which a sweet kiss on its "boo-boo" would not make it better. It made it all...http://www.weddingnight.com/stories/frictionless-sheets.html

Saturday, January 21, 2012

Free Short Story online_The Veil: 1846 by Neale Sourna

The Veil: 1846

Gretna Green, Scotland

His mother hates me, fears that I'll take him from her, or, well actually, neither he nor I know for certain what she holds against me. But he understands this hindrance; that she wishes to post the banns for his marriage to … that other person.

So we ran, he and I, with my aunt's tacit approval, including giving me a gift before our late night journey began northward, to Scotland's nearest border and the famous Blacksmiths of Gretna Green, who forge both metal and legal marriage.

We were soaked from the rain's downpour, literally steaming in the hot work shelter, leaving me unable to wear my aunt's fair gift, as the smith was hot of foot to close and splash through cold puddles and slick mud to dry home and warm supper, and so we'd married without our rings, too deeply buried in my love's valise for safekeeping, as the smith impatiently waited to legally bind us.

And we runaways were forged together, man to woman, husband to wife, with full intent to double secure our matrimonial with a visit to a somewhat distant, but well-respected, ordained minister—in insurance against my new mother-in-law's contrary wishes and any possible suit of that other's frail love and family, in desiring to forever bind him in law, and with child.

We'd been hard pressed by possible pursuit and by our own leaping hearts to be forged together as one, over the tongs of Scotland's generous law. Now, it was done.

* * * *

We'd arrived at this lovely, gabled inn, a room was provided, warm meal and warm blankets, too, and our clothes had gone to be cleared of travel mud and dried.

All we wore were scratchy, woolen blankets.

We ate in mute happiness with nervousness underlying our delicate, new bond. Words of power had been spoken in that forge's rainproof shelter, the smith's apprentice a witness to acknowledge our new status in sacred mutual agreement; and the minister's extra weight of rank and piety would hold till floods ceased.

Our meal was eaten, with only bodily consummation the next surety to our bond of runaway love as yet left undone. We put aside food and wine for later, in case we hungered and thirsted in the night, during our first night alon‑.

I ran, with nerves too heightened, to the window and stared out, and stated, "The rain slows." He came and stood behind me, he in his blanket and I... http://www.weddingnight.com/stories/the-veil.html

Thursday, January 19, 2012

Character, Importance of Fairy tales: "The Wild Swans" is a literary fairy tale by Hans Christian Andersen

"The Wild Swans" is a literary fairy tale by Hans Christian Andersen first published on 2 October 1838 as the first installment in Andersen's Fairy Tales Told for Children. New Collection. by C. A. Reitzel in Copenhagen, Denmark.

In a faraway kingdom, there lives a widowed King with his twelve children: eleven princes and one princess. One day, he decides to remarry. He marries a wicked queen who was a witch. Out of spite, the queen turns her eleven stepsons into swans (they are allowed to become human by night) and forces them to fly away.

The queen then tries to bewitch their 15-year old sister Elisa, but Elisa's goodness is too strong for this, so she has Elisa banished. The brothers carry Elisa to safety in a foreign land where she is out of harm's way of her stepmother.

There, Elisa is guided by the queen of the fairies to gather nettles in graveyards; she knits these into shirts that will eventually help her brothers regain their human shapes.

Elisa endures painfully blistered hands from nettle stings, and she must also take a vow of silence for the duration of her task, for speaking one word will kill her brothers.

The king of another faraway land happens to come across the mute Elisa and falls in love with her. He grants her a room in the castle where she continues her knitting. Eventually he proposes to crown her as his queen and wife, and she accepts.

Illustration by Vilhelm Pedersen, Andersen‘s first illustrator (1850)

However, the Archbishop is chagrined because he thinks Elisa is herself a witch, but the king will not believe him. One night Elisa runs out of nettles and is forced to collect more in a nearby church graveyard where the Archbishop is watching.

He reports the incident to the king as proof of witchcraft.

The statues of the saints shake their heads in protest, but the Archbishop misinterprets this sign as confirmation of Elisa's guilt.

The Archbishop orders to put Elisa on trial for witchcraft. She can speak no word in her defence and is sentenced to death by burning at the stake.

The brothers discover Elisa's plight and try to speak to the king, but fail. Even as the tumbril bears Elisa away to execution, she continues knitting, determined to keep it up to the last moment of her life. This enrages the people, who are on the brink of snatching and destroying the shirts when the swans descend and rescue Elisa.

The people (correctly) interpret this as a sign from Heaven that Elisa is innocent, but the executioner still makes ready for the burning. Then Elisa throws the shirts over the swans, and the brothers return to their human forms. The youngest brother retains one swan's wing because Elisa did not have time to finish the last sleeve.

Elisa is now free to speak and tell the truth, but she faints from exhaustion, so her brothers explain. As they do so, the firewood around Elisa's stake miraculously take root and burst into flowers. Because of the miracle that happened, the youngest brother's wing turns back to a normal arm; the king plucks the topmost flower and presents it to Elisa.

Elisa's courage prevails, and she is forever reunited with her brothers and her father, the king.

Free Short Story, Wedding Night & Honeymoon: No Touching by Neale Sourna

No Touching


No touching. That's what we'd decided, before truly realizing, as we do know, how hard this would be.

We've lived together for two years and our wedding's in two days, and we haven't "touched," I mean REALLY TOUCHED in two months. A brief, pecking kiss here; a quick hand squeeze there, yes, but not more. Pretty much just like business associates or brother and sister.

So, no lingering embraces, no handsy petting, not even lengthy handholding because, with this promise to ourselves, all of that becomes unbearable at a point; all those handsy, lingering, touchy-feely things clearly lead a woman and a man far astray to break from the kind of celibate pledge we've made to each other, and ourselves, after two and a half years of close, physical intimacy.

But we'd decided, in full mutual, sober agreement, to refrain from "close, physical intimacy" these last long, frustrating months. Two entire months. Sixty-one days. One thousand, four hundred, sixty-four hours. Infinite minutes. An infinity of seconds.

Not that we haven't had intimacy, still...http://www.weddingnight.com/stories/no-touching.html [abstinence]

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Article, Post World World II: Five and Dime Store by Neale Sourna

Five and Dime Store by Neale Sourna

My parents did meet, like the old song, in a "5 and 10 Cent Store." Okay, technically, it was a drug store, People's Drugstore, but that's close enough. It was after the Second World War in Richmond, Virginia.

Daddy had been a Marine, after being drafted at about age twenty-two, to serve in the "Pacific theater." He'd boxed for them and....

"Dug foxholes and hid in them," which was always his answer when we were growing up of, "What did you do doing the war, Daddy?"

He told us nothing about that time, never once glamorizing it or his part in it. Finally, a few years ago, he told one of his grandsons and I listened, silently, afraid he'd clam up like he used to do.

He told of loading and offloading death-reeking bodies of soldiers.

"A smell you never forget." He hadn't known Mama, then.

Our mother, for her part, at that time, sent letters to...http://www.romantic4ever.com/d_how_we_met/100408-five-and-dime-store.html

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

Free Short Story: Empty Nest Honeymoon by Neale Sourna

Empty Nest Honeymoon

Australia and Pradesh, India

Our youngest had flown from our nest, to try life on her own terms, leaving us, alone, together, for the first time, since before the children; and now, since Lal's retirement, we'd managed to argue constantly, getting on each other's raw nerves, because he'd never spent so much time home before.

So, I escaped to my sister Anila's, for a break from him being forever under my foot, walking behind me, throughout my house and gardens; criticizing—but no, he calls it "being helpful," to "help" me "streamline" my workload, etcetera, as if, after the many years of birthing and caring for his children and of his many short notices—.

"Didn't I tell you? We're to be having a business dinner party in three hours. I must have told you, Asha. Just unthaw something, do your magic, and put on a nice dress. No wait! Wear the dark purple sari—you look so very lovely and regal—."

I could have, should have killed Lal many times, justifiably. And a jury of twelve tired wives would free me. Tiresome man.

* * * *

Our eldest and middlemost child, surprisingly, met me at Anila's...http://www.weddingnight.com/stories/empty-nest-honeymoon.html

Popular Websites [Wikipedia] to Go Dark Over SOPA Controversy By Melissa Knowles | Trending Now

http://news.yahoo.com/blogs/trending-now/popular-websites-dark-over-sopa-controversy-174211626.html


If you have anything you want to look up on Wikipedia, you'd better do it today, or you're going to have to wait a full 24 hours to get your answer. Why? Well, Wikipedia will be leading a number of high-profile websites going dark on Wednesday to protest two controversial bills in Congress. 

SOPA, also known as the Stop Online Piracy Act in the House of Representatives, and PIPA, the Protect I-P Act in the Senate, are designed to crack down on the illegal sharing of movies and music on the Web. However, critics say the anti-piracy legislation is censorship and would force sites to police the online world.

On Twitter, Jimmy Wales, co-founder of Wikipedia, confirmed that all of Wikipedia's 3.8 million English-language articles will be unavailable from midnight Eastern time tonight until midnight Wednesday. Anyone who visits the site will be redirected to a banner that reads "The Internet must remain free." Also joining Wikipedia in going black are Reddit, Minecraft, Craigslist, and Boing Boing, among others. Craigslist has posted a message at the top of its city homepages with a link to "help put a stop to this madness" of SOPA and PIPA.

The Obama administration, as well as Congress, seem to be listening to the critics. In a blog post, the White House said it would not support "legislation that reduces freedom of expression ... or undermines the dynamic, innovative global Internet." 

And House Majority Leader Eric Cantor said a vote would not come up for SOPA until a consensus is reached. By the way, if you're a fan of any of the sites that are planning to participate in the blackout, don't worry: You can still tweet about it as much as you want. Twitter will still be up and running. In fact, CEO Dick Costolo tweeted this about the sites choosing to go dark: "Closing a global business in reaction to single-issue national politics is foolish."

Although there is a lot of opposition to SOPA and PIPA, some believe the legislation is necessary.
One person who does not mince words about his support for SOPA is Rupert Murdoch. Over the weekend, the media tycoon and CEO of News Corporation seemed to almost mimic the recent antics of Charlie Sheen and Kanye West, firing off a number of tweets in a short period of time. 

Murdoch blasted Obama and Google for how they are dealing with the anti-piracy legislation, tweeting, "Piracy leader is Google who streams movies free, sells [ads] around them. No wonder pouring millions into lobbying." Google responded, calling the accusation "nonsense" and adding that it has taken down 5 million infringing webpages from its search results ... and that it fights pirating and counterfeiters every day. 

Many believe that Murdoch confused downloading with streaming, and the next day he backed off. Murdoch tweeted, "Sure misunderstand many things, but not plain stealing. Incidentally google blocks many other undesirable things."

Monday, January 16, 2012

Short Story: Iraqi Honeymoon by Neale Sourna

Iraqi Honeymoon

My lady's on MP duty, that's Military Police, policing the dangerous, dusty streets of Fallujah, Iraq. Yep, Iraq; honeymoon capital of the world. Absolutely not.

We married three days ago, said, "I do." Kissed. Partied a little, until interrupted, as my special logistics liaison unit pulled out, in answer to an emergency and, short staffed at the present, we all left, including me, her brand, new husband; with the promise to get me back to her soon—AFTER our assignment, of course.

She's great.

When we're together there's no fear, but apart she worries about my "secret" forays into unknown places, among the hardest of enemies. And I go mad knowing she's on dangerous streets that make the roughest gang street in America a block party in comparison.

I get the best equipment, the best intel, the best training, and she gets a cheesy, ill-fitting safety vest, a hummer without armor, and a rifle that's a Cracker Jack® toy prize compared to the hardcore one I carry.

We're foreign here. And there's sand everywhere.

I should be caressing her soft skin, not alone, oiling my weapon—no pun intended. It gets into everything, like "fine time sand, windblown from a broken hourglass." Her mom, MY new mom-in-law said that. Well, actually, her mom said the fine sand part, and my baby added the rest.

She's so smart. She's so beautiful to me. I do love her. I do miss her. I do plan not to be blown or shot to bits before holding her again. Holding her forever.

Her last voicemail to me, in her bubbly voice, said she'd stay away from cafés and open markets—prime targets for a disgruntled types blowing themselves and their neighbors up, and she promised that she'd keep her....http://www.weddingnight.com/stories/iraqi-honeymoon.html

Sunday, January 15, 2012

Outback Honeymoon, Part 3 by Neale Sourna

Outback Honeymoon, Part 3 by Neale Sourna [romantic fiction]

Coober Pedy, South Australia; 1920

Nude, sun- and wind-kissed skin impregnated by improper, desirous thoughts and naked feeling.

That's what I was having, wasn't I? But, love of spirit was good, and love of heart was good, so shouldn't the open love of the body, especially the naked body of a man, who belonged to me, be as well?

"What's wrong, Maddy love?" Even his voice warms me.

"Nothing. Just stupid fluff in my brain," I said, without enough breath in me.

"Ah, congestion of the mind, eh?" He smiled too sweetly, looking terribly smug about something.

"Y-Yes."

"Well, let me help. What's the culprit obscuring your fine, clear thoughts, girl?" I can't lie, not to an honest face like that, with eyes…. But, I couldn't really just say, "You," could I?

Pete tilted his head, silently encouraging me to proceed. I tried to swallow what felt like a dry, spiky rock. The "culprit," the object of my open desir—.http://www.romantic4ever.com/romantic-fiction/081125-outbacklove-03.html

Saturday, January 14, 2012

Outback Love, Part 2 by Neale Sourna_short story

Outback Love, Part 2
by Neale Sourna

Coober Pedy, South Australia; 1919

Green. I miss the color green. Green trees, both evergreen and deciduous, and green azalea bushes ready to spring bloom, dripping with rainwater or glistening with morning's kiss. There is no green or dew kisses here because in this dry, hard place, "like the lifeless moon, after Armageddon", we never had our honeymoon, Pete and I.
"I'm not him, I'm not Joe, Maddy, not the man who sent you those letters that brought you here, but … but, if you'll h-have me—?"
"Yes. Without question," I'd said, and he'd blushed horribly, nodded mutely, and we were betrothed.
We were married by a great talkative preacher on hostile and diligent mission to convert and subvert the kind aborigines to his God. Then, Pete and I spent an uncomfortable, unconsummated wedding night lying side by side, and then he'd risen early, but I'd finally convinced him to sit still for breakfast only to have him seem increasingly guilty about dawdling his day away with me.
So, a half day into our honeymoon week, he returned to mining the opal, and that lonely way was our way for too long.
"Are y'happy here, Maddy, with me?" I'd wanted to say a bold, unquestioning "yes" again, but my nod was not so doubtless.
He's a fine man, but this is a daunting new world—this post Great War, Australian outback, this barren place of castaways. Pete was clearly avoiding any marital intimacy with me; a fine start that. Shouldn't a man be happy and take relish in his new wife, especially if he truly loved?
Still your mind and heart, Maddy girl. Mama always said I should curb such harsh, unfeminine thoughts and keep all such masculine tones of disappointment or...http://www.romantic4ever.com/romantic-fiction/081125-outbacklove-02.html

Free Short Story: Outback Love, Part 1 by Neale Sourna

Outback Love, Part 1 [an Australian Western]
by Neale Sourna

Coober Pedy, South Australia; 1919

I'd come from a lush place, of trees and wide rivers, and had sailed a long, exhaustive time, thousands upon thousands of miles from my home, a half a world away, after receiving his letters and deciding I'd be his wife; even though I'd never met him face-to-face.
Pete'd waited several days at the port, her ship was late, and he'd wondered what she'd actually be like. People often weren't like their letters. He'd read every one, more than once.
I sighed; there wasn't a tree for miles round, not even a decent bush, as Pete drove the wagon into the interior. My God this is a large country, and barren. And my future brother-in-law seems a nervous sort, as he fidgets beside me and barely speaks to me.
The woman made Pete speechless, this soon-to-be sister-in-law. Just being beside her made him nervous. She wasn't beautiful, but she was a fine looking woman, fine enough that—.
"Ma'am?"
"Pete, we're to be brother and sister, call me Maddy." He didn't touch her name, as if it were too intimate a thing for him.
"Why're you here, ma'am, a … a fine lookin' woman like yourself, and smart too, well spoken, you could have anyone. You even read and write, but you come all the way HERE?"
"For your brother." Pete was silent a long while, then quietly asked.
"His letters that good?"
"Well, I...." I was alone with this work-hewn stranger, hundreds of miles from any other person, whether friend or foe, so my lot was cast, as I stared at his strong, and possibly deadly hands. I'd never....http://www.romantic4ever.com/romantic-fiction/081125-outbacklove-01.html

Thursday, January 12, 2012

Samurai Nights/Samurai Days by Neale Sourna

Samurai Nights
by Neale Sourna

Kyoto, Japan; 1600s

We were encamped within in sight of our lord's favored family temple. His entire core retinue was in attendance, to be of service to his every noble whim. He is a good lord, a great lord, who is extremely clever and most brave, and exceedingly handsome.

As one of the many ladies of his high court, it is a joy and a thing of great hidden tears to merely glance upon him, even at a distance, as I kneel when he passes and I bow in fullest respect to such a superior being.

But, it is rumored that his heartbeats are set upon the noble Lady Ko, a wealthy cousin of our emperor with many liege knights at her call. She is a widow, and mature, but highly valued for her fine lineage, wealth, and lasting beauty.

I am but a courtier's daughter, fair at the athletic defensive skills of katana, bow, and court wit. I'd more than willingly give my life in preservation of my lord's; and yet, he will never look upon me as he does the refined and delicate Lady Ko, who supped and laughed with him, as I continued my unfortunate display and regrettable knack for breaking my Koto strings.

If I could but....http://www.romantic4ever.com/romantic-fiction/080116-samurai.html


Samurai Days

I was encamped within sight of my favorite family temple. My entire core retinue was in attendance. I didn't need them all, but it was the most certain way to have HER there, and have no one discern the full interest and possible plans I had for her.

She's clever in fierce conversation, brave in battle, and exceedingly beautiful every moment, and yet has a blushing innocence beneath her sharp wit that intrigues me to no end. It has been pointed out that she would make a most exceptional concubine. It is even a consideration her parents clearly entertain, having singled out her best assets to me, on more than one occasion.

I could make a high match of matrimony for her. I've had several underlords, and even a rival prince or two, beg a blood alliance, sealed by her graceful hand.

I have said, "No," and I will always say, "No."

My own betrothal prospects have been argued and betted upon for some time. My ally, Lady Ko, is the frontrunner, and a marriage alliance with that wealthy, imperial cousin would prove advantageous; and she is a woman in whom I have attraction.

But lovely Ko is not HER, who I could not keep my gaze from, at my banquet for Ko, not while she was so well presented in her finest robes and brightest smiles. She sings and plays the Koto well, although she believes she does not, and even played well, despite suddenly broken strings, and did a brave thing of humor to cover her playing errors, which most women would have been far too mortified to have accomplished.

SHE repeatedly distracted me from my necessary duties with Ko, and so I had her father send her from table, for....http://www.romantic4ever.com/romantic-fiction/080116-samurai.html