Writing....

Several people asked yesterday whether I had planned on the Senator being the one who hurt Mars or if the idea appeared while I was writing.

To be honest it was a little of both. After I introduced Mars to everyone, I began to think about his injury and how he could have received it. I thought it would be a neat twist to have what Noah’s father wanted be something other than the first folder Lord gave Noah. Then I thought about all those stories where the person who hated the main character for being gay or whatever turned out to be the very thing he hated the most, but I didn’t want to do that. I didn’t want Noah’s father to be gay.

My brain started turning and I hatched the plan to make the Senator a man who took the whole BDSM thing to the extreme. It was no longer a healthy kink, but something that turned violent and deadly. He gets turned on by the blood, violence and causing pain. Figuring out rent boys could take a whipping better than the prostitutes he frequented was a bonus. So he’d beat the rent boys and sleep with the whores. The secret-and I am revealing a plot point here-is the good Senator has killed a few of the rent boys.

Mars popped into my head while I was writing that part and I realized that the scar on Mars’ neck came from the Senator. It would give Lord another even more personal reason for taking the Senator down. I really get the feeling that revenge for his own shooting isn’t the true reason Lord is going after Noah’s father.

So you see, when I write, I have an idea of what I want to happen or where I want my characters to go, but how they get there is as much a surprise for me as it for you, the reader. I let them decide what’s best for them or what works for them instead of me forcing my opinion on them. Though sometimes it causes an argument...lol…in my head.

Hope everyone enjoyed a glimpse into how I write. Have a great weekend.

Death or Life?

Death or Life? copyright c. 2008 T.A. Chase

Part Twenty-Nine--

He blinked as the door slide open and a light shined in his eyes. He didn’t flinch or try to dodge the hand reaching out of the shadows to grab his arm.

“Come on, fag.”

Not Cain. He’d known it had been wishful thinking anyway. It was too soon for Cain to come. Stumbling, he let them drag him from his cell. He was pushed into another room where two other men stood. When his vision cleared enough for him to see, he studied the three men.

Noah fought the smile threatening to break through. Okay, so his plight wasn’t funny, but could his father have picked three more stereotypical looking thugs? He felt like he’d been dropped onto the set of The Sopranos. They wore ill fitting suits and all of them would have fit in better working on the docks.

“Where is it?” The one who seemed in charge asked him.

He shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

A large hand hit him in the face. His head snapped back and he heard his neck crack. One way to save on chiropractic bills, he thought fleetingly. Pain exploded throughout his body.

Wrapping an arm around his ribs, he held up his hand. “Wait. Seriously, I have no clue what you want. All you’ve done is beat the shit out of me. You never once told me what you’re looking for. I might be many things, but a mind reader isn’t one of them.”

“A smart ass, are you?” Scarface, the man in charge, snarled at him.

Another punch. This time to his kidneys and he dropped to his knees. Somehow he had a feeling he’d be pissing blood for the next week or so. His head fell forward and he focused on the small pool of red liquid forming in front of him. Shit. Noah touched his face with a trembling hand and drew it back to see the blood covering his fingers. The thug had broken Noah’s nose and split his lip.

“Listen to me. I’m not being a smart ass. Why would I when you’d just hit me some more? I’m being fucking honest with you. I don’t know what you’re talking about. All I know is that two months ago, my father tried to have me killed. Someone else paid the killer more money to let me live.”

“Right and that asshole left you something. Where is it?”

Noah laughed weakly. “You’ve got to be kidding me. My father had me kidnapped for the folder the man gave me.”

A voice in his head warned him to keep Lord’s name out of the conversation. He didn’t want the assassin to get into any more trouble. Not that the man couldn’t handle whatever happens.

“Right. Where is it?”

Scarface sounded like a robot with a one-track mind. Noah rocked back on his heels and looked up at the man.

“I gave it to my grandfather when I got here. I’m not stupid. If it was just me and some hired killer who knew about the folder, nothing would stop my father from trying to kill me again. No, it was better for as many people as possible to know about it.” He braced his hand against the cold concrete floor and pushed to his feet. “So by now, probably the police, the FBI, the Secret Service and the head of my grandfather’s security branch know what’s in that folder.”

Worry scurried across the other two thugs’ faces. Scarface remained calm.

“So there’s no reason why we shouldn’t kill you now and get it over with. Then we’d only have to go find that rent boy and take care of him.”

While it was true Noah had resigned himself to taking whatever kind of beating these men had in mind, he didn’t plan on them killing him anytime soon. Then the man’s words hit him.

“Rent boy? What rent boy? Are you saying my father’s gay?”

Shock and surprise tore through him, followed closely by anger. How dare the man judge him for being gay when the senator himself was deep in the closet?

Scarface shook his head. “Nah, not gay. He likes to play really rough. The whores couldn’t take it. The dear Senator found that the rent boys took a beating better and longer than the girls. So he’d hire them for the whippings and the whores for the fucking.”

Bile churned in Noah’s stomach. How could he have never seen that kind of twisted urge in his father before? Another thought hit him.

“Nothing like that is in the folder I got. The information in that one is just about a couple other hits my father hired done.”

One of the other thugs drilled Noah in the stomach. Pain rolled over his nerve endings and he sank to the floor, retching as he fought against the blackness threatening to take him over. He couldn’t pass out now.

“Stay down.” Scarface gestured for the other two to move closer to him. “Maybe the fag’s right. Maybe he don’t know nothing about the rent boys. My neck’s itching though. Something’s going on. My contact in L.A. says that one little queer the Senator cut a couple years has disappeared. Can’t find him anywhere.”

Noah remained on the ground, his eyes closed and breathing slowly, trying to control the pain enough to pay attention to what Scarface was saying.

“I talked to Candy,” one of the other guys said. “She says the last time she saw the cocksucker was a couple months ago. He was hanging around with some big scary dude with silver eyes.”

Shit. Lord? There couldn’t be more than two people in the entire world with silver eyes and Noah didn’t think Cain would have been hanging out on the streets of L.A.

“Shit.” Scarface scrubbed the back of his neck and glared at Noah. “Put him back in the room. I’m going to talk to the Senator. We need to start communicating better.”

The toe of a boot drove into Noah’s back and he screamed. This time there was no escaping the swell of darkness filling his mind. The last thought before he lost consciousness was what kind of trouble had Lord involved him in?

Death or Life?

Death or Life? copyright c. 2008 T.A. Chase

Part Twenty-Eight--

Maybe twenty-four hours later—

Noah sat on the cold cement floor, his forehead resting on his upraised knees. He wondered how long he’d been in the small room. His father’s thugs had taken his watch and cell phone before they threw him in there. He chuckled. Like his watch would have helped him. It was a cheap thing he’d gotten at Macy’s on sale. It wasn’t like a James Bond watch with a butane torch he could use to cut his way through the steel door.

Shivers wracked his body. His clothes were ripped and bloody. The men beat him up a little before they left. He should be glad they didn’t break anything important. Just a rib or two at the moment. He had a feeling things would get worse when they got back.

Why was his father doing this? That was the question racing through Noah’s mind. He didn’t think about escaping or rescue. First of all, he had no idea where he was, so escaping at the moment wouldn’t do him any good. He could end up dying outside as easily as inside. As for rescue, he knew Cain would do everything in his power to find him and he had to trust in that belief.

Strange how yesterday he walked away from the man because of his secrets and what he did before coming to work for Noah’s grandfather. Now it was that very past that made Noah confident his lover would find him. It might take a little while, but Cain wouldn’t give up and Noah held to that fact.

His father would call him foolish and sentimental. Noah didn’t think his certainty about Cain’s coming was sentimental. Cain was a professional, first and foremost. The man wasn’t going to sit back and take Noah’s kidnapping lightly. Grandfather had hired Cain to keep Noah safe and he failed. Noah had a feeling Cain wasn’t familiar with failure.

He shifted and pain shot over his nerve endings from his right side. He had to be careful. He didn’t know how damaged the broken ribs were and he didn’t want to puncture a lung. His father would never offer any help.

The dark seemed to close in and his breathing sped up. Noah found himself wishing he had the nightlight he’d bought for Lindsey a few weeks ago. Lindsey. Panic welled up in him. He prayed that his father still had no idea that she was his daughter. He didn’t know what he’d do if anything happened to that sweet child.

Breathe, a voice that sounded a lot like Cain’s echoed through his head. Nothing you can do about her from here. Concentrate on surviving. Other people will have to take care of your daughter.

As much as he hated admitting it, the voice was right. Panicking did nothing but cloud his brain. He needed to keep clear headed and try to live long enough for Cain to rescue him.

God, he needed sleep. Unfortunately, his prison cell didn’t come with a blanket. Maybe he’d ask for one the next time the goon squad showed up. He laughed quietly. Yeah, like they were interested in making him comfortable.

A scrap sounded outside the door. He pushed to his feet, staring at the door. Whoever or whatever was on the other side, he’d face it the best he could. No matter how much he wanted it to be Cain on the other side.

Poetry Train...

First off...stop by Michael Breyette's website to check out more of his awesome artwork.

Just so you know some of the pictures are not safe for work or for kids, so maybe you should check it out after you get home and if you have children, where they can't see. :)

So here's my contribution to the train today. It's not a poem. Just one of those little scenes I write from time to time.

Don't Ask, Don't Tell

I stand, watching him walk away. Biting my tongue to keep from crying out. Normally, I don’t go with him when he leaves. The separation is hard on both of us, but hardly still for me because I can’t hug him or kiss him like the other spouses can their loved ones. He looks back once and I nod. Then he’s gone.

Turning, I walk away, left behind to spend a year alone again. No one will call to check and make sure I’m doing all right. No one thinks about the room mate. At least I’ll know if something happens to him since I’m listed as his emergency contact. Other than that, I’m nothing to the military he serves.

Somehow I make it home, fighting tears until I’m inside. I curl around his pillow and cry. Tomorrow, I’ll get up and be strong. I’ll survive the time apart. If he calls, I’ll be cheerful and if he doesn’t, I’ll remember how much he loves me. I’ll hold the memories of the tears he cried the night before he left tight in my heart. But today, I’ll cry and long to have him with me again.

__________________________________________________________________

Stop by Rhian's blog to check out who else is on the train today.

Have a great day.

Tagged

Shayla Kersten tagged me. Here's the challenge:


The rules of the challenge go like this:


1. Find the nearest book of 123 pages or more. No cheating!

2. Turn to page 123.

3. Find the first five sentences.

4. Post the next three sentences.

5. Tag five other bloggers.


So the book I picked is A.M. Riley's The Elegant Corpse.

And maintained his maddeningly slow rocking motion.

Like being pushed very slowly over the crest of a hill, Sean felt his body reach that apex and then dive.

He was hurtling through it or above it, Roger around him and in him.


Hmm....five other bloggers, huh? I'll have to think about those. :)


Have a great Friday, everyone.

Death or Life?

Death or Life? copyright c. 2008 T.A. Chase

Part Twenty-Seven--

As they headed towards the front of the facility, Cain called the guards, ordering them to meet him in the lobby. When all of them converged, he started organizing them.

Cain sent two of them back to the security office to check the tapes. There wouldn’t be anything caught in Noah’s lab since cameras weren’t allowed in there, but the hallways and entrances should have been covered. The possibility of catching the Senator entering or leaving the building was strong. He dispatched two guards to keep Noah’s lab from being disturbed by anyone.

He called the police, informing them they had a kidnapping. He wanted there to be a paper trail leading to the Senator. Cain didn’t care if the man was about to become the President or not, there was no way he’d allow him to get away with terrorizing, kidnapping and who knows what else he was doing to Noah.

Taking a few steps away from Lord, he dialed Henry LeClair.

Johnson answered, “LeClair resident.”

“Hey Johnson, it’s Packert. I need to talk to LeClair.”

“Is it an emergency, sir?”

“Yes. Wiltson’s taken Noah.” He paced, eager to start looking for his lover, but knowing following procedures was the best way to ensure Noah got back in one piece.

“I’ll get him.” Johnson dropped the phone.

A minute passed before LeClair picked up the phone. “What the hell happened, Packert? You were supposed to take care of Noah. Now that bastard father of his has him?”

“I know. I completely dropped the ball on this one. You can punish me or fire me or whatever the hell you want to do to me later. We need to find him. I need you to come down here with the file Lord gave Noah.”

A pause. “Why?”

He held the phone away from his head and stared at it for a second. “Why,” he said into it. “If we had done this right from the beginning, the FBI would have been investigating Wiltson and this probably would have never happened.”

LeClair’s voice held tension. “I had my reasons for not going to the authorities.”

“I don’t care what your reasons were and they aren’t important anymore. The most important thing is getting Noah back before anything happens to him.” Cain shoved a hand through his hair. “I screwed this up from the beginning. I let my attraction to Noah cloud my judgment, but no more. I won’t risk his life.”

Lord touched his shoulder. Cain glanced at him and his brother nodded towards the front door where two detectives and a thin young man were entering.

“Just get down here, LeClair. The detectives are here and I’ll be contacting the Bureau next.”

He slammed his phone shut and stuck in his pocket. He turned to greet the detectives. The thin young man headed right to Lord and ran his hands over Lord’s side like he was reassuring himself Lord was okay.

“Detective Henderson and this is my partner, Detective Schwan. You called in a kidnapping?”

Cain shook Henderson’s hand. “Cain Packert, head of security. Yes, one of the scientists here at the facility was kidnapped earlier today.”

“How long has he been missing?”

He checked his watch and then looked at Lord. “An hour or so.”

“How do you know it was a kidnapping?” Henderson stared at him.

Schwan wandered over to where Lord and Mars-at least that’s who Cain assumed the younger man was-stood.

“Dr. Wiltson would never have left the compound in the company of the men who took him. Trust me.”

“Wiltson? Any relation to the candidate?” The detective scribbled notes down.

“Funny you should ask considering that’s who took him.”

Shock and disbelief warred in Henderson’s eyes. “You’re joking, right? Why would the Senator kidnap his own son?”

“You’ll have to ask him that along with why he tried to have his son killed two months ago.”

“Whoa. Those are serious allegations, Mr. Packert. You can’t accuse someone like Wiltson without proof.”

Lord joined them, Mars attached to his hip like a limpet. Cain saw the file his brother was carrying.

“This might spread some light on the subject, Detective.”

Henderson took the file and waved for Schwan. “I need to talk to my partner and I guess we should contact the local FBI office.”

Cain dug a card out of his wallet. “Call this number and ask for Stevens. Tell him Packert needs help.”

Schwan took the card and the police men walked over to the front desk. Cain turned to see Lord settle his hand at the small of Mars’ spine. Cain cataloged his brother’s lover. Mostly to take his mind off the need to run off and try to save Noah himself.

Mars was the kind of skinny that came from not having enough food to eat and his dark brown eyes held suspicion and fear in them. This man had spent a lot of years on the street and it had marked him. Bright blond hair cut short and spiky. His t-shirt was faded, but clean and barely covering his pale stomach. His jeans were tight and low slung, held up by Mars’ prominent hipbones.

“Why didn’t he call as soon as he saw them left the compound?” His question was filled with anger.

Mars cowered, burying his face in Lord’s chest. The man barely made it to Lord’s shoulder. Lord cradled the back of Mars’ head and growled at Cain.

“You can talk to me like that because I understand what you’re going through, but don’t ever take that tone with Mars again or I’ll make you pay.”

Cain blinked. He wasn’t foolish enough to think that because he was Lord’s brother, the man didn’t mean what he said. The cold killer in Lord never said anything he didn’t mean and the posture Lord took with Mars told Cain Lord would protect the younger man no matter what.

He took a breath, trying to get a handle on his anger, fear and impatience. “I’m sorry, Mars. I’m simply afraid for Noah. That isn’t an excuse to talk to you like that.”

Mars peeked out from Lord’s chest and nodded. Long elegant fingers stroked over Lord’s shirt. His brother looked down at the small man and some sort of communication passed between them. Mars stepped away from Lord’s embrace, pulled a notebook out of his back pocket and started scribbling something down. A trembling hand held the notebook out to him.

“It’s hard to find someone who will talk to you and make a phone call for you,” he read.

He shot a surprised glance at Lord and back at Mars. “You can’t talk?”

Mars shrugged and grimaced.

“He can talk, but it’s difficult and painful for him to do it. That’s why he has the notebook.” Lord touched Mars’ shoulder. “Show him.”

The younger man tilted back his head and Cain saw the vicious scar running across Mars’ throat. It was red, puckered and deep. He didn’t think he’d ever seen a more brutal wound.

He winced. “Sorry.”

Mars shrugged again with a slight shake of his head.

“So you had to find someone who would read your note and call Lord?”

A quick nod.

“You recognized Noah?”

A short negative tilt of his head.

“The Senator?”

An affirmative movement of Mars' head.

“Lord explain any of this to you?” He wondered how much the boy knew about what his brother did or used to do for a living.

Mars nodded, moved close to Lord and snuggled tight to his brother.

“Would you be willing to write down what you saw for the detectives?” Cain gestured to Henderson and Schwan.

A flare of fear shot through Mars’ eyes. Lord wrapped an arm around Mars’ shoulder.

“I’ll stay with you,” Lord promised Mars.

Their gazes met and for a moment, Cain felt like he no longer existed. Mars nodded reluctantly.

“Thank you. I think you and Noah would get along great. You’ll have to meet him when we get him back.” He cleared his throat, some strange emotion choking him. He looked at Lord. “I’ll keep your previous profession out of it if I can.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll take care of myself. Focus on getting Noah back. All the rest will work out.”

A commotion at the front doors heralded the arrival of Noah’s grandfather.

Stop Back later...

Sorry, everyone. Really busy for a while this morning. I'll be posting Death or Life? later than usual today. Please stop back by later on this morning or afternoon. I promise it will be up today. :)

Wednesday...

Happy Wednesday!

Not much to report today. I got tagged by Shayla Kersten, but I don't have what I need at the moment, so I'm saving that for Friday. :)

Out of Bounds has been in the top 10 at MBaM for Samhain since it came out. Got as high as #3 so far..which makes me happy. Thanks to everyone who bought it.

Hope you all have a great day.