Sunday, September 14, 2014

Misfits Die, Die My Darling

Hey there my wonderful readers,

I think Blueisland should be first in the series of the Watermagic novels. I was thinking that this song by the punk rock band, Misfits, called, "Die, Die My Darling" would be a good song for the part in Blueisland when Raz goes into the ocean with Jason. After you listen to the song, read the excerpt below from the part of Blueisland that I am referring to. Imagine this song playing once Raz and Jason make contact.

Have a great one,

“He made it off the yacht,” Jason said while sitting in the makeshift tent with Raz on the beach.

My eyes lit up. “He did?”

“Yeah, it was some weird shit.” He leaned back with his hands behind him on the sand as he shook his head again. “That criminal French exchange student—you know the one who was in jail?”

“Marcel?” My heart rate sped up.

He nodded. “Yeah, that’s the guy—long ass hair—the one all the girls fall over.” Now he was chuckling and shaking his head more.

“Go on,” I encouraged anxiously. “The dude made out with your boyfriend right there on the deck, lips pressed together, shit…” he sighed, “…and then the punk kicked him off the boat like he was a football. It was some weird ass shit.”

“Are you serious?” I bit my finger much too hard. Was Marcel gay? He couldn’t be. I saw him with Emily. But then again, he didn’t seem like he cared about her at all now. Maybe he just messes around with girls to seem macho, but he’s really into guys. That actually makes sense because what guy on the planet earth wouldn’t be in love with Brigitte? She is utter perfection. And then when I lost control and was making out with Marcel, he pushed me away. I thought about it for a second. Well, that could just be that I’m not his type. Even if I am more attractive than I used to be as everybody keeps saying, Marcel saw me before the changes in my rag doll state and maybe that was enough to turn him off. “Do you think Marcel is gay?” I asked Jason.

He laughed. “I think he’s just a weird dude. Maybe he is over sexed or into kinky shit.” I had to move back as he stretched his long, thick legs out and crossed his arms over his chest. Emily was sleeping like a baby now just a couple feet away from us. “I saw him out at a club one night with Kitty Kole.”

“The supermodel?” I asked with surprise. My breathing sped up. I just felt so out of control and desirous.

“Yeah. Shit, she’s even more beautiful in person, long ass legs. She was all over him, but he didn’t do anything about it. He left her there high and dry. She was crying all over his friends. He’s crazy. Apparently, he does that to a lot of girls. Attachment issues or something.” He laughed, rubbing his forehead. “I heard the dude is rich.”

“What?” My voice lifted. “You mean his parents are rich?” Then I thought about it. Does he even have parents?

“No, I think their dead. He owns vineyards in France and does a lot of international corporate shit—the guy is worth billions. I heard he’s even on the Forbes list. Lucky asshole.”

“You want to go for a swim?” I asked him suddenly.

He scoffed, his brown eyes crinkling at the corners. “You gotta be shitting me?” His eyebrows pulled together. “I’m not getting in that ocean ever again.”

I smiled sweetly. “Not even naked?” Before I knew what I was doing, I pulled off my t-shirt and overly tight, stretched out bra.”

“Hello,” he said staring wide-eyed at my bare breasts. I wiggled out of my jeans and underwear.

His jaw dropped. At once, I was out of the tent and running for the ocean. I watched him from the water throw off his clothes and jump in after me. “Wait up,” he called, but I swam out further.

“Come on.” I waved him out to me. Damn, it felt so frickin’ good in the water, almost orgasmic.

“I’m comin’,” he yelled as he swam a fast, splashy crawl stroke out to me. It was so dark out under the stars and moon, but there were little flashes of light on the water from the cosmic array above.
I felt tingling sensations throughout my body. I could feel an aching burning in my groin. The tips of my nipples throbbed in the saltwater. But Jason finally caught up to me. I took his thick, fleshy, muscular body into my arms. A football player. Big and strong. He smelled delicious. It was an indescribable scent—a bit like blood and wine and flesh. My teeth were pulsing and everything just ached all over. I was breathing so heavy. All I remember him saying was “You’re so unbelievably hot…” And then, I bit off his ear. (Imagine the song playing here:) Blood gushed. He screamed out in pain which only increased my hunger. I started tearing him to shreds, eating and eating in hedonistic frenzy.