joannebest











musee3

She towers over me in all her glory, her breath fetid with a hint of dead flowers.
I feel each exhale slide over my flesh, leaving deep angry gashes seeping rivulets of blood.
I’m frozen in place, my body encased in an icy coating.
I notice as I shiver violently, tiny little cracks begin to weaken the ice, leaving me free to move. She paces back and forth, a stream of profanity falling out of her mouth, relentless.
I inch away slow, steady, quietly, hoping she won’t notice.
Of course it doesn’t work.
“There are rules missy,” she yanks my hair painfully as I crawl toward the front door.
“I don’t follow rules,” I spit the words out, along with several back teeth.
“You don’t need them anyway,” she sneers,”back teeth, not rules. Rules are meant to be broken, just like you.”
She looks me over like I’m dessert. It’s creepy how much she looks like my Muse and I have to keep reminding myself she’s not.
“I-”
“-always wanted that hollow cheekboned look, is that what you were about to say?”
She’s crouched in front of me, head cocked curiously.
“You’ve never been trained have you?” She snaps her fingers and a riding crop appears in her perfect hands.
“I don’t need to be trained, I’m not an animal.”
I push myself up to a kneeling position.
The jeans I was wearing have turned into fishnet stockings complete with garters and black spiked heels.
“Well you’re a miserable excuse for a human chica. I’d go with the pet label if I were you. You’re not so good with order-following but you will be when I get through with you.”
The handle of her riding crop trails along my spine and my body trembles involuntary.
This was usually the part where my Muse comes to my rescue, where the hell is she? I can fake my way out of pretty much any situation, but this one? This Evil Version of my Muse? She seems to know my every move long before I do.
If I wasn’t doubting my sanity before this, I sure as hell was now.
“Come now. Be a good little pet and get back to the parlor said the spider to the fly. We have an Apocalypse to monitor.”
In the blink of an eye I’m shackled to a straight-backed chair, hands behind my back, legs apart and unable to move.
I can speak though, she hasn’t gagged me this time.
“Where is my Muse? And my friends? What have you done with them?”
“Ha! Friends? How cute.”
Sarcasm drips heavy from every word she says.
“Now shut up and watch. Let’s see if you can write your way out of this, missy.” She draws out the last word, snakelike.
Griping my hair by the handful, she holds my head in place to make sure I’m watching the horror unfolding on my television.
The sight on the screen makes me scream loudly.
evil muse

AUTHORS NOTE : This is a snippet from my latest super-somewhat-secret WIP, because it’s Sunday…to be continued…

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{March 28, 2015}   Abduction ~ Muse Adventures

chairr

“Tie her hands tighter, she’s a sneaky one, she is. Thinks she can get out of anything. Make sure she can’t get away.”
“Hey! Wait a minute,” I said indignantly. “What the fuck is go-mmmmmmowww!!!”
“Gag her; the only time she shuts up is when she has something in her mouth.”
I thought the voices sounded vaguely familiar but couldn’t quite figure out who was talking. Whoever they were, they’d blindfolded me. They must be pro’s.

One minute I was sleeping the sleep of the depressed and exhausted, next thing I knew I was tied to a chair, couldn’t see a thing, and somebody had shoved something in my mouth so I couldn’t say a word.
I hate when I can’t say a word.
I also hate the taste of the washcloth somebody shoved in my mouth to shut me up. It tasted like soap.
Another voice spoke up. “Can’t we cut her some slack? She’s had a rough time lately; you know it could just as easily be one of us tied to that chair.”

I heard a deep male growl followed by yet another voice, this one female, whispering something to the growler about how they had to do this but they didn’t have to be so rough. I assumed she was talking about me.
I had no clue as to what was going on. It couldn’t be kidnapping because nobody I knew had money for ransom and besides, who would want to kidnap me anyway?

Maybe I was dreaming. Except the washcloth in my mouth and the restraints holding me down threw that theory out the window. I couldn’t even ask them what they wanted because whoever shoved the washcloth in my mouth decided duct tape was needed to keep it in place, my tongue was starting to hurt from trying to push it out of my mouth and I was doing my best to squirm my way out of the restraints.

“We’re not trying to hurt you,” another voice this time.
How many people were here?
“We just want to talk to you. And we want you to listen. If you promise to listen to what we have to say nod your head and we’ll take off the blindfold and get rid of that washcloth. But if you don’t let us have our say, it goes right back in, ok?”

Huh? Who were these people and what did they want with me?
Only one way to find out so I nodded my head and true to her word, the calm-voiced female took off my blindfold then took a step back. Maybe she wanted to gauge my reaction before she yanked off the duct tape.

Can’t say I blamed her when my eyes adjusted to the light and I saw I was surrounded by people I both knew and didn’t know. There was a familiarity in each pair of eyes watching my every non-move but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.
I knew them, yet didn’t.

I sat still, my eyes taking in each and every one of them staring at me.
They stood around me, arms folded. I could feel the hostility in the air, mixed with disappointment and all of it aimed at me.

“Well? What do you have to say for yourself?”
The woman speaking was so beautiful she was hard to look at. She seemed to glow but it was her eyes that bore into me, kaleidoscope eyes swirling with colors that had me mesmerized.
Dressed from head to toe in tight leather, she held a whip in her right hand, smacking it against the palm of her left hand.
When I didn’t answer she cracked the whip in the air coming dangerously close to my face.

“You do realize she can’t answer you till you take the gag out of her mouth,” said the large green man with the yellow cat-like eyes.
Leather-girl’s eyes flashed red at green man. The look of annoyance on her face rose to a level I’d never seen before.
She was scaring the hell out of me but I tried to keep calm and breathe.
Through my nose.

Green man and leather girl were now involved in a stare-off and if I had to guess, they were arguing silently.
Who were these people and what did they want with me?

As their silent argument continued my eyes took in the rest of the crowd surrounding me.

A tall thin woman with gorgeous red hair and flashing blue eyes stood next to two identical strapping hunks of men. One of them winked at me and flashed a grin revealing fangs. The redheaded beauty jabbed him in his side with her elbow.

There was a young boy, looked to be in his late teens wearing glasses that were obviously the wrong size.
He kept pushing them up the bridge of his nose, but I could barely see his face, his hair was unkempt and covered most of his features.
Standing next to him was another woman, by the looks of her she was young but her eyes made her look like she’d been through too much for any one person to handle.
Something about her stirred something inside me, made me want to comfort her which was kinda weird considering she was part of the kidnapping contingent.

Standing next to them was a tall statuesque woman; her hair flowed down her back in natural curls, an aura of goodness emanated from her and she looked at me with a mixture of kindness and disappointment.
What the hell did I do to her?
She was flanked by a dark dangerous looking man on one side and a dog with three heads on the other.
I wondered if somebody spiked my drink last night and I was hallucinating.

The arguing between leather girl and green man had slowly grown from silent to loud and louder until they were screaming at each other.
“Would you two knock it off?”
A woman I hadn’t noticed pushed her way through the crowd surrounding me and leaned into me. She looked oddly familiar and eerily like me but I couldn’t figure out how I knew her.
“Sorry doll, it’ll only hurt for a second.” With that she yanked the duct tape off my mouth and pulled the soapy washcloth out of my mouth.
“Oww!”
I couldn’t help it, duct tape hurts when it’s yanked off your face.

“See? I knew she couldn’t be trusted to keep her mouth shut! Give me the tape!”
Leather-girl snapped her fingers and held out her hand impatiently.
The other one, the one who looked like me rolled her eyes before she snapped at leather-girl.
“Would you shut up already?”
She turned back to me and missed the sneer on leather-girls face.
It would help if I knew their names.

“It would help if you gave us all names and stopped flat-leaving us. And by the way, I did too see that, eyes, the eyes in back of my head are the same as the eyes on the front of your face.”
My mouth was agape. Huh?

“Look babe, this is it. We’re fed up. You’re the one who created us.”
She stopped and looked around at the small crowd surrounding her. And me.
“Well, most of us.” She shook her head as if to clear her mind, the way I sometimes do.
“Anyway that’s not the point. Point is, you’ve been dilly dallying for way too long and you’re unfocused, which in turn, makes the rest of us unfocused.”
Leather-girl growled along with the, umm, vampire dude as kinda-me shushed them.
She turned back to me, finger lifting my chin till our eyes met. It was like looking in a mirror and seeing disappointment staring back at me. I can only assume my confusion was responsible for my uncharacteristic quietness.
Also, leather-girl was eyeing me up like I was an ice cream sundae.
I couldn’t decide if I loved her or feared her. Maybe both.

“Chica, you really need to get moving.”
Whatever she was about to say came to a full stop.
The jig was up.
Nobody calls me chica except my Muse. I’d slap my own stupid head if my hands weren’t bound.
It was them.
All of them.

My own characters kidnapped me.

compg
to be continued…
mymuse1<



{December 27, 2014}   Writing Again

writing3

Well that didn’t take very long.
Yesterday I swore up and down and all around that I would write.
I even tried to force myself to write by announcing it on facebook (which, by the way, I kinda hate but that’s a post for another day-oh!!!! I just admitted there will be another day of writing! Perhaps I am not doomed after all!), ummm, as I was saying, I figured if I made a grand announcement to my friends and family I’d be forced to write, else I may be banished to the Forest Of Lying Liars Who Lie, Unintentionally Or Not.

I unintentionally lied.
Because I didn’t write. {imagines finger-pointing and ridicule as I’m led in shackles toward the center of a crowd full of mask-clad…uh, wait, that’s another ‘nother story, with a different rating}

See, I lived inside my own head for so long, writing and writing yet never putting my fingers to the keyboard so now I have to retrain my brain and flex my fingers and just do it.
I picked a hell of a time to try and start writing again.
Everyone is home, our new Siamese kitten has decided that he wants to be a writer only he want to use my computer. Did I mention he only wants to write when I’m using my computer?
Plus there’s all this Merry Christmas/Happy New Year stuff and somewhere along the line, in my senseless self-imposed exile from writing, I forgot how to multitask.

I’m not worried {nope, not me, no worry here, not a bit}.
I just need some practice.
Please be gentle, I’ll be back to me in the flick of a Djinn’s finger.
djinn



{May 10, 2014}   She And Me ~Muse Series

mymuse2
She thinks I don’t see her lurking behind me.
Dressed in my favorite black leathers she clings to the ceiling like a black widow spider but she’s much more lethal. I can see her reflection in my computer screen but I choose to ignore her rather than acknowledge her presence.
I know it drives her crazy when I ignore her but sometimes, when it comes to my Muse, ignorance is bliss.
She always knows what I’m thinking but I can’t read her, not the way she can read me.
She’s unpredictable and capable of anything. Me? I’m predictably capable of disappointing her. Which isn’t really the best way to endear one’s self to one’s Muse.
Seems I’ve been disappointing everybody lately.
What sucks the most is that I know I’m all fucked up in the head these days, I know I’m in robot mode but I can’t shake it off. I need a Moonstruck Moment.
“Snap out of it!”
Fuck.
“Get out of my head and stop slapping me in the face! Damn that hurt!” My right cheek is burning from her hard crack across my face and my left one joins in with an embarrassed rage for letting her catch me unaware, even when I knew she was there.
“Somebody had to do it chica, this Debbie Downer mood is getting old.” She shoved me back into my chair and stared at me, expressionless.
Did I mention she’d yanked me to my feet before she slapped me in the face?
“Why do you have to be all hurty with me? You’re my Muse, why can’t you be nice like the Good Witch in The Wizard Of Oz and wave a wand or something…” my voice trailed off as her face went from angry to angrier. I did not want to see angriest.
“Ok, obviously I fucked up again. Let’s start this over, yeah?
“Witch? You compare me to a Good Witch?”
Shit. This is the part where things go south and I am so not in the mood.
She continued to stare at me for what seemed like hours but in reality was barely a second. Something synched. There was a shift in my brain, I don’t know how else to describe it.
I was staring into her eyes but I was seeing me staring out of her eyes. That makes no sense but I don’t know how else to say it.
I saw me and I wanted to slap my own self in the face.
Breaking eye contact wasn’t easy but I did and I was pissed.
Pissed at me, pissed at her, pissed at every single person I knew, every one who “loved me” and that list continued to grow shorter and shorter, just generally pissed. Angry. Mad. Furious.
Because it was all my fault.
Her head tilted the way it does when she’s curious.
“Why do you blame yourself chica? And for what reason?”
“And why can’t you let me wallow in guilt?” I mumble, knowing she hears me anyway.
Then she did something she never did once, ever.
She stood me up and hugged me. Just like that. My crazy dominatrix of a Muse, who loved nothing better than to drive me crazy instead of inspiring me to write, hugged me.
For a minute I let myself accept it.
Minute over. I pulled away.
“What do you want now?” I walk to the other side of the room and cross my arms as I lean back against the counter.
She laughed.
“You’re learning chica, you’re learning.” She slunk her way over to me, planting one arm on either side of me.
Her breath was a blend of flowery deceit, but she was all I had, I didn’t get to pick my Muse.
“And I didn’t get to pick you chica, but we’re stuck together for now.” She leaned in closer, her mouth next to my ear, “Whatever your problem is, and we both know what it is, get your act together chica, the next time I show up, you better be ready to get back in the game. Things are heating up and you for some unknown reason, are needed. Sooner we get this done the sooner we can break this bond.”
She disappeared, as usual, in a puff of smoke.
Huh. I didn’t know there was a way out of this, that I could get rid of this crazy Muse and get back to normal, whatever that might be.
Well, I always do work best under pressure.
smokemuse
AUTHORS NOTE: oddly, the authors note I just wrote disappeared, I think it was my Muse, I swear I didn’t say anything bad about her, she just likes to mess with me, she says it keeps me on my toes to which I say I took tap lessons thank you very much, I don’t do ballet…anyway, what I meant to say is, my Muse is off fighting the Djinn War without me for reasons I can’t divulge yet, but she does come to check in on me from time to time… she just left, maybe I wasn’t supposed to mention she was here but hey, it’s my blog, she can get her own. Stay tuned for the continuing adventures of me and my Muse, as Karen Carpenter sang, we’ve only just begun…
mymuse1to be continued…



musee1
She slinks into the room like a cat on valium, not her usual style at all.
Usually she appears out of nowhere, either making a grand entrance or catching me off guard, but this time she’s slow, stumbling almost and she looks haggard, like she’s been through a war and barely made it out with her life.
My Muse is not very forthcoming with her adventures when she’s not here with me, she doesn’t like to share unless it benefits her in some way. Very human-like trait if you ask me.
“I didn’t ask you chica,” she snarls at me. “I have nothing in common with you filthy humans, nothing.”
She doesn’t look me in the eye. Something isn’t right with this whole picture.
“I thought you told me I might not be all human?” She hates when I question her, probably why I can’t stop myself from doing it.
“I said, I’m beginning to have my doubts about it, that’s all.” She slumps next to me on the bed, sighs, then folds one arm across her leather covered chest and throws the other across her forehead. I have no idea how she can move in that thing she’s wearing, it looks like liquid leather was painted over her body.
Gotta admit she wears it well though. Still, something is wrong.
Usually my Muse shows up when I’m sitting in front of my laptop writing. This is the first time she’s popped up while I’m lying in bed, considering throwing in the pen, so to speak. My attempts at writing had run into some stumbling blocks recently and I was so disillusioned with the mess I’d made of my life I wanted to crawl under the covers and do my best Sleeping Beauty impersonation times five. One hundred years wasn’t enough time to retreat into my shell.
“What wrong?” She stares at the ceiling as she speaks.
“What’s wrong?” I ask. “With me? You’re the one going all Sarah Bernhardt, not me. I’m just reading in bed minding my own business, is there something wrong with that? Besides,” I looked my Muse in the eye for the next part,” you disappeared as usual, as much as it pains me to say this, you know I can’t write without you.”
Her eyes flash an assortment of different shades of blue before they settle on the same shade of blue as mine.
She closes her eyes for a moment then looks up at me, a mixture of emotions playing across her face with one notable omission, there is no trace of anger.
Angry, condescending, superior, those were her usual looks my way.
I never saw what looked alarmingly close to, dare I say it, sad?
“You fucked up chica,” she says this softly, solemnly.
“What are you talking about?” She’s really starting to worry me. Even though she’s a pain in my ass I still have feelings for-
Bam.
Crash.
Boom.
And I find myself facedown on the floor, my precious laptop luckily saved by the tumble of blankets surrounding me but my Kindle took a hard hit. I’ll kill her if it’s broken.
Did I mention one of her spike-heeled boots was painfully planted against the small of my back?
“What the fuck?” I mumble into the bare floor. Is this what they mean by ‘eating dust’? I really do need to sweep underneath my bed a little more often.
“Get up.”
“You’re standing on my back.”
“Get. Up.” Her right hand reaches down yanking me off the floor by my hair. She uses her left hand to reach around and grab me by the chin, pulling my head back till I was staring into her eyes. I swear I was looking at two eyes filled with violent waves, stormy didn’t begin to describe the tsunami in her eyes.
I don’t know how I manage to get myself in trouble without doing anything.
“Ok, ok, stop yanking my hair already! That fucking hurts!”
“You don’t know the meaning of the word ‘hurt’ chica. Yet. Now sit.” She points to the bed she just yanked me out of.
“Huh? What game are you playing now because I don’t know the rules to this one.”
“That’s your problem little girl, you don’t know the rules period. Now sit your ass down and explain yourself.”
She towers over me, the way her eyes have me pinned in place suddenly makes me feel like an insect under a microscope.
“Oh you’re an insect alright,” her voice is full of hate. “You’re less than a bug and I can squash you in a snap.”
I jump as she snaps her fingers for emphasis. My hand scrapes against a sharp corner of an old wooden bookcase. The splinter embedded in my palm is deep enough to hurt bad and a smear of blood is left behind, to remind me I’m still alive perhaps?
“See what I mean?” She leans down, yanks me up then pushes me on the bed. “You’re all skittish and jumpy. You’re a wimp, that’s what you are.”
“A wimp? Do people even use that word anymore?” I ask sincerely.
She is not amused. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so angry, at least not at me.
“Shut. Your. Mouth. And listen,” her voice is stern, fed-up, disgusted. Everything but pleased.
“I’m not in the mood to go through the whole hows and whys thing, so I’m gonna say this once and you’re gonna listen to me. You’re also gonna follow through. Capiche?”
I just nod my head in agreement, afraid to open my mouth yet.
“I may be your Muse but I’m more than that, much more. For now, all that matters is you can’t hide one single thought from me no matter how hard you try chica. That means I know exactly why you aren’t doing what you’re supposed to be doing. You signed up for it missy, if you think you can write anything while censuring yourself in case somebody might get offended or project themselves into something you write you may as well throw that laptop out the window. Because if that’s your plan, whatever you write is gonna suck.”
I just stare at her, mouth agape, speechless. Without words. No reply. No smartass remarks. Nothing.
Because I know she’s right.
Her mouth curls up into a Grinch-like smile and there’s a sparkling green glint in her eyes that wasn’t there before.
I don’t know if it’s a good sign or a bad sign.
“Chica, it’s time to let go of that bullshit in your brain, it’s doing neither one of us any good and if you’d pull your head out of your ass long enough to pay attention, we’re in the middle of a Djinn War with a capital W and you,” she looked down her nose at my still silent face and rolled her eyes before reaching out to place a finger under my chin to shut my still-open mouth. “You, for some unknown reason, are the only one able to get us out of this mess alive.”
While I tried to digest that little tidbit she turned from me and began to pace back and forth, distracted, as if she was involved in another conversation I wasn’t privy to.
“Time is running out chica,” she leaned into me again, her mouth so close to mine I wasn’t sure who’s breath was who’s.
“You know what you have to do. Do it. Now. Don’t try to do it, do it!!!”
She planted a kiss above my eyes. It smelled of reassurance and treachery both, then she disappeared, a thin haze of smoke the only remnant of her appearance.
That and the blood red lip-print on my forehead.
I look at my laptop and sighed.
smokeddd
to be continued…



musebuffy
AUTHORS NOTE: Catt and her Muse discuss some of the finer points of fashion…sorta…
“What’s wrong with how I’m dressed!” I mean to sound indignant but my voice just sounds kinda squeaky.
“Oh please chica, red desert boots and cargo pants?” She actually shudders.
“Hey you’re the one who put me in these stupid red clodhoppers in the first place, which, ok, I was barefoot in hot sand so thanks for that but come on, you could’ve gone with Doc Martins at least.”
She mumbles under her breath again, she does that a lot around me, something weird usually follows.
“Red Doc Martins I can deal with but these things,” I look down at my feet, “Holy shit, check out these kick ass boots!
Black biker boots covered my feet and my cargos were now comfortably tight leathers.
From the mirror she’s magic-ed in front of me I looked fashionably dressed for an Apocalypse, also, I was pleased to note, kinda hot.
“How’d you do that?” I really need to learn how to do that!
“Moi? Not me missy, you did it all by your lonesome… aren’t you just full of surprises…”
She’s really bad at hiding condescension. Probably because she doesn’t try. But she was dripping with it now and it had nothing to do with boots.
“C’mon, knock off the bitchery and stop being all mad at me,” I try my wide-eyed innocent look. It doesn’t work so I try again.
“You know this is just temporary-”
“Everything is temporary chica.” She sounds pissed but it doesn’t stop her from interrupting me.
“-and it was the only thing I could do at the time-”
“Time,” she sneers, “you know nothing about time. Nothing.” Her arms are folded and she gives me her back, won’t even look at me.
“Ahem,” I remain silent until she gives up and turns to face me. I attempt to give her the coldest stare I can muster but it bounces off her like a pink rubber ball thrown against a concrete wall.
“As I was saying-”
“You say nothing but words without meaning.”
“-if there was any other way I- hey! My words have meaning!”
Damn she’s getting under my skin and enjoying every minute of it, if the definition of “enjoying” is being a bitch. I have to remind myself not to engage the crazy supernatural being capable of rendering me dead. And I better start thinking happy thoughts before she pulls another disappearing act on me.
“You are thinking thoughts about me right now chica, I know that look on your face,” her voice is a mixture of anger, annoyance, and a tinge of affection. “Just because I can’t read your thoughts for now doesn’t mean I can’t read your intent.”
Wow. She is really pissed at me for bottling her, apparently Muses don’t like to be owned.
Shit. I didn’t think of it that way, being owned and not in a good way.
“Look,” I say with complete sincerity, “I promise you, as soon as this whole Apocalypse thing is over, which by the way, you really need to fill me in on what’s going on with that and what the fuck it has to do with me… but for real, I swear I’ll release you as soon as this is over. Pinky swear.”
And I really do mean it, I don’t want a Genie in a bottle, I want my Muse back.
She does that eyebrow raising thing she does so perfectly, her red stained lips parted in exasperation.
Pinky swear?” I can’t tell if she’s gonna laugh or scream. Possibly both.
“Pinky swear,” I answer as I reach my hand out to her, pinky first.
After staring at my hand for what seemed like hours she shrugs her shoulder and reaches her own hand to me.
“You,” she says as she hooks her pinky with mine, ” are a very strange human.”
She looks me over from head to toe and shakes her head.
“If you are indeed all human, I’m beginning to have my doubts about that.”
I decided it would be a lot easier if I just pretended I didn’t hear that.
to be continued…
museboots



{October 18, 2013}   Dress For Success ~ Muse Series

djinngirl
Whats it take to stop an Apocalypse? Catt’s still got a long way to go.
So my Muse is Djinn.
Huh.
I don’t know why I didn’t figure that little tidbit out before but there’s no time for musing about it now, there’s an ugly Apocalypse out there that I’m supposed to stop and all I’ve got is a pissed off Djinn-Muse in my pocket.
On the plus side, she has to do whatever I tell her to do, but there is gonna be hell to pay when this is all over, or possibly as soon as I open the little bottle in my hand. Which I can’t put off much longer.
By the increasing amount of blood and gore covering our little oasis of a dome, the world was going to hell fast and I’m not only weapon-less, I’m definitely not dressed for the End Of The World. These red desert boots were doing me no favors. And the fact that I’m trying to distract myself from imminent death by thinking about what to wear to an Apocalypse cemented it.
She was right, I really am unprepared.
No point in putting off the inevitable, I take a deep breath and uncap the little bottle and my Muse mists into form before me.
“You little bitch!”
I knew she’d be pissed but I didn’t expect her to smack me across the face.
“Hey! And oww!” I can feel the imprint of her palm on my cheek, it burned. “Knock it off! I’m sorry but Mr. Green-Genes slipped me a bottle and I need your help and it’s only temporary anyway, I’ll release you after you help me with this Apocalypse thing.”
“That’s what they all say,” she mumbles under her breath. I pretend I don’t hear her.
“You didn’t have to be so sneaky, you could have just asked me nicely instead of listening to that Green pain in the ass!”
She’s pouting and I don’t have time for this shit. I don’t know Djinn politics but I do know she has to do what I tell her to do. I think.
“Look, we’ll straighten this out later, I just need your help with the bottles I lost, I mean, were stolen from me. We have to make sure Asmodeus doesn’t get those bottles before we do, you can do it, you’re like magic and stuff, just get those bottles before, uh…”
She not-so-pleasantly holds out her right hand and waves them in front of my face.
“You mean these?” Her glare is enviable, just a little scary to be on the receiving end of it. Again. “These three bottles you only had to ask me for instead of, oh I don’t know, fucking enslaving me? Bitch?”
“I, uh, oh man, yeah, those.”
I suck at saving the world.
~
I decide I’ll put on a brave front and try to fake it. I was usually pretty good at that.
“Well ok then, we have the bottles and Gene Genie has the ring, yay Team Us, so lets go kill the bad guys and stuff. C’mon, you know what I mean, lets do this already.”
I’m scared and cranky and isn’t she supposed to do what I say instead of looking at me like I lost my marbles?
Ok, valid expression-choice on her part, I am feeling kinda marble-less at the moment.
“Well?” I’m so used to her reading my mind I’ve begun to talk in shorthand.
“What?” She doesn’t sound too happy.
“You know, let’s go kill bad guys and stuff! What’s with you, aren’t you supposed to do what I say?”
She’s doing that one eyebrow raising thing she does so well. The more I talk the higher her brow arches.
Her skin is like porcelain and her eyes an icy kaleidoscope blue anyone could drown in.
Her full perfect lips are just plump enough to know they’re all natural. They always look bloodstained, bite-able.
Now they also look annoyed. She rolls her eyes at my Djinn-ignorance.
“First of all,” she begins, “your little genie in a bottle trick has managed to fuck with my ability to get into your mind, which I would have explained if you’d bothered to ask.”
Fuck. She is royally pissed at me.
“You know dick about the way of the Djinn and even less about Muses.”
Her look could melt the entire Antarctic.
“Do you know what happens when you bottle a Muse like a Djinn? Do you?” Her voice gets colder with each word.
“Um,something not good?” I ask,hoping for a reprieve.
After staring at me for what seems like ten-hundred-years she barks out a laugh.
Whew.
“Oh you’ll find out Chica, but for now,as much as it pains me to say this, you’re right. We have to get moving, we’ll deal with the details later.”
The wind is still wailing, we have three bottles of Djinn, and we have to get the hell out of the desert.
We have an apocalypse to deal with.
“Well, let’s get going,” I tell her.
She looks at me like I’m insane.
“Bitch,I’m not going anywhere with you dressed like that!”
musebootspicusethis
to be continued…



greeen

AUTHORS NOTE: Our Catt has been rescued (for now) from the sexy hyena dominatrix lady by her Muse, but she never seems to get very far, and the apocalypse waits for no one; what a girl to do?
“What do you mean?”
My throat burns, my voice comes out scratchy.
“Unprepared for what? What are you talking about now?”
She continues to stare into the chaos outside ignoring me, although maybe she just can’t hear me shouting over the howling wind outside our protective bubble.
No, that doesn’t make sense, she always knows what I’m thinking, she doesn’t need to hear my voice to know what I’m saying.
“You still haven’t figured it out chica,” she sounds like I let her down as she walks by me.
She seemed to go out of her way to not touch me and she floated, although she made a show out of walking on air , taking small deliberate lady-steps emphasizing the sway of her hips as she placed her hands on the unseen dome protecting us. Her head cocked to the side as she stared west, a pensive look on her flawless face.
“And the Muse gets a prize for stating the obvious,” I can’t hide the fear in my voice but then again I can’t hide anything from her.
And she, of course, can’t hide her preening smile at my capitalization of her “title”, for lack of a better word. I figured it couldn’t hurt to throw her something, she did save my life after all.
“You are learning chica, gotta give you that,” she laughs as she says this but there’s something in her voice I never heard before.
Sadness, perhaps? If I stretch my imagination far enough I might even say there’s a tinge of compassion somewhere in the her voice.
“Do you hear that chica?”
She continues to stare westward, head still cocked to the side as if she’s listening as hard as she can. Like she’s straining to hear whatever it is my human ears can’t hear through the screeching howl of the desert wind.
“It’s happening.” She whispers directly into my mind. “It’s started chica. I’m afraid it’s too late.”
I stand next to her, me in my clunky red desert boots, she in her perfect pink Prada pumps, both of us staring into the sandstorm. All I can see is sand until her delicate hand reaches for mine.
As soon as our flesh meets, I have a front row seat to Hell. Armageddon is ugly and bloody.
“No,” I shake my head and drop her hand as I back away. I don’t want to see it anymore, the Apocalypse looks a lot scarier in person than in a movie.
“Make it stop,” I whisper the plea.
“It is what it is chica, you should know this by now.”
“No. If there wasn’t a way to stop it you wouldn’t have brought me here.”
She arched a perfectly plucked brow at me. “You brought me here chica, remember?”
“Semantics,” I scoffed desperate to convince myself I wasn’t petrified.
She shrugs a shoulder and turns her back on me. As I look out all I can see is sand blowing horizontal with an occasional dismembered body part flying by like a bizzaro-world-tumbleweed except with blood.
Our once transparent protective bubble is taking a beating from the unrelenting sandstorm.
What looks like rusty gears smashes into us, barely stopped by the barrier. I can’t help but flinch at the growing cacophony of unidentifiable sounds crashing around us. Streaks of blood turn our protection ugly death-red.
bottlee
“Do something!” I shout above the din outside.
“I can’t.”
“You mean you won’t!”
The look she gives me nearly stops my heart.
“I mean,” she’s so close to me her breath and mine are one. “I can’t.”
There is pure loathing in her eyes where just a moment ago there was sadness.
“Fuck you!” I shove my hands in my pockets to keep from punching her in the face. I’m sure I’d lose but it would feel good for about a second.
Pssst, Kitty-Catt, it’s me kiddo, check out the little pocket inside your front right pocket
The voice is in my head but it’s not my Muse, it sounds like-
Don’t worry Kitten, she can’t hear me. You want her to help you stop this don’t you? Go on, you know what to do
My hands were nonchalantly examining my thankfully baggy pockets and damn if that crazy Snickers-eating Djinn didn’t slip a tiny little bottle in my pocket when I wasn’t looking!
It was really small, like those little lidded bottles they used to use to stash cocaine in back in the day. Allegedly.
It was a crazy idea, if it didn’t work I was fucked but I was fucked no matter what I did.
And besides, it might just work.
C’mon Kit-Cat, times ‘a ticking
I manage to uncap the bottle in my pocket before pulling it out.
She was still ignoring me, staring out at the chaos.
It’s now or never.
“Be thy bound to my service,” I begin as she started to turn toward me. “Be thy bound to my service.”
“NO!!!” She screams so loud my ears literally begin to bleed but I have to say it one more time for it to work.
“Be thy bound to my service.”
As the last word leaves my mouth she disappeared into the tiny bottle in my hand.
I quickly tightened the cap and shoved it back into my pocket for now.
“She is so gonna kill me when this is over,” I said to the now empty dome.
desertgjomn to be continued…



{October 4, 2013}   Reprieve ~ Muse Series

museleather
The admittedly-hot hyena dominatrix woman froze at the sound of her voice.
I, for one, never loved the sound of Muse-voice more, it sounds beautiful when she’s on my side.
“You.” Hot hyena lady’s eyes finally let mine go to stare down my soon-to-be-once-again BFF.
“Is that all you got for me,” she asked with a snort.
What is up with these two? I can’t quite get them down, there was all kinds of tension between them. Half the time they were at each other’s throats and the other half, well, it looked like they were after more than just each other’s throats.
Maybe they were like those succubus things, like on that show Lost Girl. Or maybe it’s more like it’s been so long since I got laid that I was seeing sex everywhere- no, they definitely had some kind of succubus thing going on.
Well, they were both pretty hot, maybe they-
“Chica! Focus!”
That’s when I noticed everything was frozen.
Hyena lady, Jann the scone-wasting butler, even the blue and white tent, all frozen in place. The wind stopped along with everything else.
“Shut your eyes.” She snapped.
“Shut my eyes? Why?”
“If you don’t stop questioning everything I say-”
“Ok, ok already! Eyes shut, geesh, it’s not like I’m gonna steal your magic tricks.”
My Muse ignored me as usual, mumbling under her breath, then all was silent.
Till my ears popped, like they used to when I was a kid and we were driving through the mountains in Pennsylvania.
I open my eyes and notice we’re surrounded by an invisible dome; correction, I’m surrounded by an invisible dome, no sign of her… fuck, if I don’t start getting some names out of these people soon I’m gonna… dammit, I’m probably gonna do nothing but this nobody-will-tell-me-their-names-thing really sucks.
I need more than pronouns if I’m going to keep bumping into more and more people. And yes I use that term loosely.
An invisible dome and me all alone and where the fuck is she now?
Once again, I have no idea where I am, no idea of anything and most of all, this repetition is becoming torturous.
The same things keep happening over and over; I look for my Muse, find her, she fucks with my mind, fucks me over, then leaves me high and dry.
Lather rinse repeat, as they say.
It’s beginning to get beyond ridiculous now.
Wherever I am, whatever this is, I have to figure it out; I’m alone in this.
No superhero is going to swoop in and save me from my sadistic Muse. I’m gonna kick her ass next time she decides to pop up again.
I turn around to figure a way out of this mess and smash into her, looking all proud of herself.
“Stop leaving me in places!” So much for my ass kicking plans.
I’m frustrated and tired and want to sink into the desert sand and cry for at least 17 hours.
“Oh stop whining chica! We don’t have time for all this bullshit, stop running off on your own-”
“You keep leaving me!” I try to interrupt but she just talks over me.
“-and getting in trouble, and with her no less.” Yep, definite shiver I saw there, I hope it wasn’t a shiver of fear.
“What do I have to do, put a leash around your neck to keep you out of trouble?” She paced circles around me as she speaks making me kinda dizzy.
“Look,” she began. “I know you’re way out of your league-”
“Hey! I’m in my league!” I wonder sometimes, why I speak out loud.
“But it can’t be helped,” she continues, ignoring my outburst. “You need to get your act together and get with the program.”
And you need to stop dropping the clichés so often, I thought to myself, unsure if I was thinking about myself or her.
“Chica bella, why you have to be the one we need is a mystery to me but the fact remains, we need you as much as you need us, or rather, Me.” She blew me a kiss at the last bit before she continued.
“It would be a lot easier if you stop running all over the place already. We have to get moving, Asmodeus is onto you, if he gets his hands on that ring and those bottles…” her voice trails off, a shudder shakes through her body.
Oh fuck. I covertly check for those three bottles of Djinn I had hidden away separately in the many pockets of the cargo pants I was wearing, ‘had’ being the operative word. Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Ohfuckohfuckohfuck.
“You lost the bottles didn’t you?” she barks out a loud staccato laugh, somehow leaving me with the impression she isn’t nearly as pissed as I thought she’d be.
“No I didn’t!” I lie through my teeth as my mind races in reverse, trying to remember what the hell happened to them.
She floats a few inches off the ground, her perfect pink Pradas putting my stupid red desert-boots to shame.
A sandstorm was kicking up around us, the wind howling, tiny grains of sand like shards of glass clobbered our protective barrier, pounding mercilessly as she hovered around me.
I could barely hear her even though she was right in my face.
“It’s coming.” Her perfect mouth stopped moving but I could hear her in my head.
She looks me over, her head shaking as if she finds me lacking.
“You are so unprepared.”
Then she laughed, hard.
musedesert
to be continued…



musemy
AUTHORS NOTE: When we last left our Catt in the desert she was tied to a chair being blamed for the coming apocalypse by a hyena-turned-woman, possibly a dominatrix of the Djinn kind, who, like everyone else, wanted something from her. Also, in honor of my 300th post, a random challenge for no reason: what song did I steal borrow  the title of this chapter from, anyone? ;-D
~
She continues to stare at me unflinching.
A frozen furious Djinn stare increasing in intensity as each soundless second ticks slowly away.
I’m petrified, I want to be anywhere but here. Even though she’d released the tight ropes from my wrists and ankles I’m too scared to move yet, what’s a few more moments in the un-comfy chair?
Her stare is unnerving, both diabolical and seductive.
I start to squirm but not in a good way, the diabolical is overruling the seductive so I do the only thing I can do, I babble.
It’s a nervous habit I have and it’s going to be the death of me. Death by babble.
“Umm, yeah, so uh, about that door you mentioned, the one I accidentally opened? Really, really sorry about that by the way… so the thing about that door is, I uh, well, actually I have no idea what door you’re talking about, like at all and are you sure I’m the one who opened it up because I don’t remember opening any weird doors lately, uh, not that your door is weird, what I mean is I don’t even know how to open a door, I mean I can open a regular door like in a house but I think you’re talking about a magic door or, umm, I, uh….”
My voice fades and she is not amused at all.
I hear Jann standing next to me mumbling “don’t you ever shut up” in my direction and shoot him a dirty look.
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” She leans in closer to my face, her long sin-scented hair tickles my mouth as she continues to stare at me with those swirling Djinn eyes of hers. Her voice is surprisingly soft, husky, deceptive.
All I can do is swallow audibly.
She is the definition of frightening. She also has a kick-ass fashion sense.
Oh no, I’m developing Stockholm syndrome! Where the hell is my Muse when I really need her?
“Whose side are you on? What side do you work for?” She snaps out the words, her breath smells of restrained lust and she’s angry.
Shit, now what? “Work for? I don’t work for anyone.”
I can see by the sudden flames in her eyes this is not the answer she wants and my babble comes back.
“Well I was laid off a few months ago so I don’t really have a job right now…the economy is pretty bad the last few years, there aren’t too many jobs out there, this healthcare thing is very confusing, but I’ve got my resume all over the place and, uh…” By the look on her face, this babbling thing wasn’t working. “Oh, you weren’t asking about my employment status…”
“Tell me.” She grabs one of my hands very ungently, her nails drawing blood.
“Who sent you? Where did you get those bottles?” Her beautifully delicate hand is pretty fucking strong as she grips mine tightly.
“Answer me.” Her voice drips a lusty condescension as she squeezes so hard I swear I can hear the cracking of tiny finger bones. Mine.
She’s right in my face and I’m petrified, but does my fear stop my mouth from disobeying my better instincts to shut up?
Nope.
“Hey! You’re gonna break my fingers bitch!”
It was out of my mouth before I could stop it.
Jann, now standing behind her, gasped at my outburst.
Shit, I really pissed her off this time.
“What did you call me?” She actually growled at me.
“She called you a bitch, want me to spell it out for you?”
I never thought I’d be so happy to hear that voice again.
Especially when my Muse was sporting her pre-ass-kicking voice.
musefire
~to be continued…



et cetera