{January 29, 2014}   Robot Love

every day is mechanical,
their feet hit the ground, in different directions
he goes there and she goes there,
apart, away,
now, not much more than strangers
who used to know each other
going through the motions in lockstep till it’s habit,
like memorizing mathematics,
multiplying and dividing,
adding and subtracting,
without deviation from the rules,
rust flakes like tears falling to the floor
she sweeps them under the rug
he pretends to not notice and they go on their merry way
step by step by rote
like robots

{January 27, 2014}   Another Day Another Blahg

I’m stuck in a hamster wheel going nowhere fast.
No matter how hard I try, and believe me, I try, I can’t seem to get moving. I thought at first it must be just another case of writer’s block but that isn’t it. It’s more like I have life-block.
Make that life-block on ice.
Intellectually I understand there are valid reasons as to why I’m all funked-up, but knowing something and acting on that knowledge are two completely different animals.
The weather.
That’s an obvious explanation for the way I feel. Fibromyalgia and the coldest cold in forever do not good bedfellows make, or; the pain, she hurts. That good old barometric pressure has my bones and muscles on fire, like the devil’s got a pitchfork that’s been sitting in the fiery pits of Hell and he’s poking my body all over the place.
Buried grief.
I’m not an expert on the grieving process even though I’ve lost more friends over the years than I can count on all my fingers and toes. Grandparents, cousins, Aunts, Uncles, boyfriends, the whole shebang.
But nothing, and I mean nothing, could have prepared me for the loss of my Mom and it’s just recently that I’ve realized I still haven’t processed it properly.
I keep pushing it down, trying to go on as if my life is still the same when in reality my entire world is shattered and I can’t really talk about it.
I don’t want to talk about it think about it dream about it know about it deal with it, any of it.
I’m the biggest crybaby in the world, always have been but it’s like somebody put a lock on my tear ducts and turned my heart into stone, cold, frozen, sharp stone that weighs more than I do.
I don’t want to feel.
Which is convenient because lately I feel nothing.
Dead inside.
Yeah, good old depression has always visited me from time to time but now it’s packed it’s bags and moved right on into this empty yet broken heart of mine.
One of these days, I hope I can gather together my strength and somehow manage to pick up the jagged pieces of my heart and put it back together again.
In a non-Humpty Dumpty way.
AUTHORS NOTE: the pictures used in this post were drawn by me on my phone. There’s an app for that.

{January 25, 2014}   Fiction Relay Part 56

When we last left our gang of seven, they were in a Lowes parking lot surrounded by bloodthirsty coyotes controlled by Sanderson, who has appeared out of the shadows, closer than ever to the one thing he has been after for too many years to count, The Cup. All the pieces are in place, will Sanderson’s plan finally come to fruition?

Raj began to growl low at the unexpected sound of Sanderson’s voice.
Melissa tightened her grip on Raj, terrified. The entire group turned toward Sanderson as one, his words echoed around them, as if they were bouncing off mountains, his eyes greedy on the box Ephraim held. The Cup continued to dance in the air, hypnotic as it glittered, calling like a Siren and Sanderson a sailor, mesmerized.
“Yo, Sandy, you’re starting to drool.” Blue couldn’t resist, she was itching to punch the son of a bitch.
Spence grabbed her hand as Meaghan nearly stopped breathing at her daughter’s bravado.
*Samantha, not now!* Meaghan thought at Blue.
Drawing his eyes slowly from The Cup, Sanderson looked at Blue like a disappointed parent.
“You had such potential little girl, sad really, such a waste,” he shook his head as he walked closer to the group.
“Yeah it is kinda sad I have to waste time killing you dead asshole!”
*Chill babe* Spencer’s fingers tightened around Blue’s hand. *Try not to rile up the crazy man keeping the hungry coyotes at bay, ok doll?*
*Don’t call me doll and stop trying to take the fun parts away* Blue squeezed his hand back for reassurance that she’d behave. For the moment.
“I have to keep reminding myself that you’re just a child,” Sanderson spoke to Blue but kept his gaze on The Cup, “but you will do what I say, when I say. Those two may have provided your DNA,” he waved his hand carelessly at Meaghan and Sam, ” but I made you what you are.”
Sam lunged at Sanderson but Sanderson was faster, throwing up a hand before Sam reached him, emitting an electric blue pulse that threw Sam back a good ten feet.
Blue winced as she heard her Father’s head crack against the concrete ground of the parking lot. She also intentionally ignored the fact that she’d just thought of Sam as her Father.
Meaghan was torn between checking on the man she loved or staying nearer their daughter. Thankfully Sam jumped to his feet, more embarrassed than injured.
Thousands of vicious coyotes smelled fresh blood. They began to moan as one, whining for their Master to let them go, let them at the source of the scent driving them to instinctively push forward, the fence ready to give under their collective pressure.
“Silence,” Sanderson commanded the coyotes and they quieted down, as if he’d thrown a switch.
All but one. Raj continued to growl at Sanderson.
“You always were one to talk back Khalid, ”  Sanderson’s voice could almost be called affectionate. Almost.
“No one will stop me from fulfilling my destiny. The Cup is meant to be mine and she”, he pointed dramatically at Blue. “She will get it for me.”
“She” ain’t helping you with shit,” Blue spit back, trying and failing to keep her temper in check.
“That is your only purpose in life little one, and you don’t even understand what an honor I’ve bestowed upon you. The Cup….”, Sanderson’s voice trailed off, reverently.
He stiffened up, looking each one of them in the face.
“Not one of you realize the power The Cup holds. And it’s mine. I have waited years, decades, centuries to get what belongs to me. I will drink from The Cup and have all the power of the First Man. I will delight in destroying each and every star in the heavens and putting them back, one by one, the way I want, no one will stop me and I will rule not only this world, but the three other worlds below, as well as the endless skies above.”
“Dude, how come you’re talking like some kid trying out for a high school play, all dramatic and stuff? Never mind. Don’t care. What I do care about though, is kicking your ass. And these people here. Well, most of them.”
*Oh Spence, stop yelling at me, I’m kidding. Mostly. Now shut up, I love you.*
Spencer had to bite down on his cheek to keep from laughing. His Blue was amazing, he thought with wonder.
*You too babe* she let him know she heard him and sent him an image showing him what she had planned for him after they got through this. He immediately handed over the reins to his girl, she knew what she was doing. She always had a plan, and if she didn’t? Well if she didn’t have a plan she’d make believe she had a plan and improvise. Hadn’t failed yet.
“You can be a part of it still, feisty as you are, you amuse me, my little creation,” Sanderson continued, ignoring Blue’s outburst. “You are the only one who can open the box for me, and that is only the beginning of the power I have bestowed upon you. Together we will rebuild the world, my world, with the power of The Cup we will-”
“We?” Blue had had enough. “You’re out of your fucking mind old man!” She stood in front of him, furious, hands planted firmly on her leather-clad hips, as Spence backed her up, his eyes locked on Sanderson waiting for a sign from Blue, who had become the de facto leader of the group.
Raj continued to growl, showing his teeth as he strained against Melissa’s hold. Sam, Meaghan, and Ephraim stepped forward, all of them ready to battle as the shock of Sanderson’s appearance began to wane.
No one noticed Jose standing off to the side, his palm open as he chanted low, eyes raised to the heavens, calling on the power of Anansi.
Tiny web-like strings, barely discernible to the naked eye, quietly began to slither from the black spider Jose held in his hands, spilling onto the pavement. First one, then another, each individual strand glimmering blue, each strand sliding unnoticed and in unison, headed in the direction of Sanderson.


Authors Note: jeez Boss-man, you’ve got me doing actual research! 😀 Ok so in my attempts to reach the bar set by TRG, KC, and all the writers who came before me, I had to read up on the Creation Story re: The First Man, and Anansi, credited in some legends as the god of all stories, as well as the god of all wisdom. And possibly the first Spider-man. Wikipedia told me everything except suggesting Anansi was the first Spider-man; although he was said to be a spider/man, I prefer to think of him as your friendly neighborhood Spider-man.
You know the deal, go here:
for the summary of the story so far, and here:
for the links to each chapter.
We’re almost to the finish line folks, so take it away twin o’mine, KC is up at bat.

{January 23, 2014}   Done

i’m covered in saran wrap
freeze-dried and going through the motions
nothing can get through,
not out, nor in, not anymore,
it doesn’t make sense to bother
nobody listens unless there’s a payoff
and i’m broke these days
i can blame it on the weather
taking into consideration the chill factor,
i don’t wanna leave my room,
see, there’s a portal there,
a one-way ticket to anywhere but here,
on the other side of my mirror i can see endless,
there’s a tiny little crack beckoning me
i’m thinking i may slip on through,
never look back
because there’s nothing here
fighting for my attention
unless it needs getting done,
and the only thing done right now is me

{January 20, 2014}   Stubborn Patience

girl in snow
when you pull turtle-like into your situational shell
my imaginings take me places i would rather not go,
i could hate you in a flash,
close my eyes and erase your face,
that would be much easier, but easy never was my style,
i could love you from here to the moon and back,
keep you in my heart and hold on tight,
that would be easy as breathing, but i can hold my breath forever, never breathe again,
my stubborn patience is waning right now,
nothing new about any of it though,
i seesaw through each day depending on the weather
and there’s a blizzard on it’s way,
i could freeze you out, ice you like my heart,
pretend you don’t exist and you won’t even be a memory,
one word from you
and i melt

{January 20, 2014}   Photo Challenge ~ Unusual Angles

As anyone who knows me knows, I’m obsessed with Cape May and all it encompasses, most specifically the old World War II Fire Tower down by Sunset Beach. The Tower is the setting for one of my WIP’s, an apocalyptic story about a girl who is living out the end of the world at the end of New Jersey, where she has settled into the Tower and made it her home.
The prompt for this Photo Challenge is Unusual Angles, so here are some photos I took of the staircase smack dab in the middle of the Tower. Please enjoy.




{January 19, 2014}   Announcing Love Spanks 2014!

Since I’m unable to figure out how to download the document myself I’m cutting corners and reblogging this Most Important Announcement for one and all; Love Spanks 2014! Get your spank on and save the dates, prizes await you if you’re naughty I mean good 😉 Don’t worry, I WILL remind you and you WILL be glad I did, and THAT is an order!!! Love Spanks begins Feb. 7 thru Feb. 9, 2014.
Mark your calendar or there will be a blush of marks left (on your) behind 😀
See you there my lovelies!

Anastasia Vitsky



For contest posts, click these links:


When two grown-ups love each other, someone might get a spanking!

How would you like a brand-new Kindle Fire or Nook HD or another prize from a pool valued at over $1,000?

How about free stories from award-winning authors?

This Valentine’s Day, you can participate in a short story extravaganza! F/F authors will showcase romance, paranormal, sci-fi, fantasy and spanking fiction for your enjoyment. Chat with your favorite authors, meet new-to-you authors, find great new books, and meet new friends!

Want to become a Love Spanks…

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{January 17, 2014}   Pearls In The Rough

the minute i try to hold myself back
i crumble,
i fall,
at the particular sound of you,
tumble from the shiver
till i’m crawling through the rubble,
on my hands and knees, sifting through the sand
my treasures hid and buried deep but you dig,
pull them out one by one,
spill them over me till i’m dripping in jewels
pearls in the rough and me on the floor
’cause diamonds ain’t forever baby,
that was just another marketing ploy
to repopulate the masses,
they didn’t count on that primitive urge
strong enough to divide and conquer
while keeping the cave-fires burning,
when it seems like forever-impossible
i can bend time when nobody’s looking

{January 16, 2014}   Superhero Saviors

there’s a little flame burning
it’s right there,
down deep with all my secrets
hidden from the light of day
locked-up invisible,
in the dark of night
you stoke me,
and just like that i turn into a superhero
waiting for the bat-signal-flash in my field of vision,
calling on my special powers,
a birthright handed down in various shades and speeds,
to be used only under certain circumstance,
you call and i fall, that’s a given,
so when nobody’s watching i fly,
follow the beacon lighting up my sky and soar,
doesn’t matter who saves the day in the end
it’s the respite from the dreaded dreary, however fleeting,
pockets of sanity to hold on to
refuge from the everyday battleground apocalypse
where we slip through the shadows
just to save a life

“You still don’t get it, do you?”
I’m trying to work on something, unsure of the direction I want to go. I lean back in my chair and light yet another cigarette hoping to find inspiration in a haze of smoke. Or maybe in the bottom of my teacup.
“You can’t ignore me forever missy. I’ve got time and lots of it. More than I can say for you.”
There had to be a way to stir up something interesting to write about. Hell, I have so much clutter in my brain there has to be something I can scrape together that won’t bore the masses as much as it bores me.
“You aren’t the only one who’s bored, I’ve been yawning my head off for the last couple months while you continue to make no decisions. I mean come on already! An intervention didn’t help, it made things worse if it did anything.”
There’s an annoying buzz in my ear, like that elusive mosquito on a hot summer night, you know it’s there but you can’t quite figure out where it is or how to get rid of it.
“Please. You won’t be getting rid of me that easily. I’m here, I’ll always be here, like it or not. Get over it.”
Maybe it was one of my cats again. They were always up to something that involved weird noises and destruction. Lately they’ve added snoring to their repertoire.
That annoying straight line on my computer screen keeps blinking at me, a mix of disdain and disgust like it wants to take me by the throat and shake the words out of me.
“If you don’t get moving soon I’m going to do more than shake the words out of you. You, missy, need a good old fashioned over the knee spanking. Which actually sounds like a good idea now that I’m thinking about it… and by the way missy, I know you hear me so knock it off with the ignoring of moi.”
“Nope,” say I, “I hear nothing.” I try to give it my best Sargent Shultz try but I suck at accents and I don’t think my Muse is a big fan of Hogan’s Heroes.
“What I’m not a big fan of is you not doing anything.”
She hovered over my keyboard now, finally showing herself even though I knew she was there all along.
Mostly I was just being a bitch to annoy her. Writer’s block can make a person do strange things, ignoring one’s Muse probably isn’t the best way to be productive.
“Listen to you using all those words just to say you suck, I’m almost impressed! Why don’t you try putting your fingers on the trigger and start typing?”
“Because you’re sitting on my keyboard?”
Couldn’t stop myself, the words were out before I could bite my tongue. I’m really in no mood for a conversation with my Muse right now, I should have kept my mouth shut.
“First of all I’m hovering, not sitting; secondly, I know what you’re going to say before you even think it. You seem to forget who’s in charge here.”
I blink and she’s standing behind me, leaning over my shoulder looking at the blank screen in front of me.
“You’re pathetic.”
“Why are you even here?” I ask. “You’re supposed to be in a file marked “Muse Drafts”.”
“Yeah, right next to the files marked “Lizzie and James” and “Tower Story”, been there done that. I’m bored.”
“Well if you’re so bored then why don’t you do your job and muse me up already?”
Her left eyebrow arched so high it nearly reached her hairline.
“Job? Job???”
Shit. Here we go again, another round of beat on the brat.
“You are a brat,” she hissed. Which is pretty impressive considering there are no “s’s” in the sentence she-
“Hey!” She slapped me in the face! “You slapped me in the face!”
“Your choice missy; stop fucking around, get your ass writing, or I’ll get your ass burning and believe me, I have plenty of experience when it comes to a good old fashioned brat-spanking.”
I have to admit, I considered it.
I mean she did look pretty hot in her leather and I was being bratty and maybe I’m reading too much erotica lately. Then again I did go to Catholic school and I was being bratty. And did I mention she looked pretty hot in her leather?
“Stop repeating yourself. And since you seem so anxious for a spanking you’re not getting one. Now.”
I can feel my face flaming at the turn this conversation is taking and she laughs, at me, not with me of course.
My Muse has a sadistic streak.
“And don’t forget it chica,” she blows me a kiss before disappearing for who knows how long.
Abandoned, as usual, it’s just me and a blank screen once again, that fucking blinking line taunting me still.

et cetera