Wednesday, October 7, 2015

The FILTHY Series: Bonus Scene #4

Here it is. The final part of the bonus scenes included in the full FILTHY series. I hope you enjoy this last little piece of Taylor's mind. 
Remember, if you missed the rest of the bonus scenes you can check them out here. EpilogueBonus #1Bonus #2, Bonus #3.

Also, you can get The FILTHY Series on Amazon -- FREE for Kindle Unlimited users.

The Very End
Taylor. Age: 72
It was dark. Late. The only light was the bright fluorescent one out in the hall. The same light that was on every night. The same light that had been my night light for nearly twenty-four years. That’s how long I’d been in prison.
I used to think I’d get out. That’d I’d end up back in my life. Back with my Faye baby. But no appeals court would touch my case. No one would consider that I was innocent. And I was innocent. Everyone who thought I was guilty was wrong. Faye might have been a child, but she was mine and she loved me— each and every time I touched her she loved me more and I her.
I’d had a lot of time to think about it. To consider the reality of the things I had done. I was a bad man, even I could own up to that. I had laundered money, done dirty things that made me rich and successful. But loving Faye wasn’t on that list. Loving her was the good thing in my life. The highlight of the darkness that had been smeared across my world.
My cock pressed hard against the fabric of my uniform. I reached in my pants and pulled it out. Joe, my roommate who slept on the bottom bunk had been taken to solitary confinement earlier today, so I was alone with my thoughts and my cock.
The image of Faye from so many years ago, jumped into my mind. It was always her. She was the only woman I thought about—even after all these years. It was late one night when I got home from work. I’d been gone for a week or more on business. A trip where I had to deal with some fucked up shit. I was fucking exhausted but I needed to see Faye. She was the one redeeming thing in my world that made it worth living.
I remembered pushing open the door to her room. She was lying in her bed wearing her purple nightgown. That one was my favorite, my cock jumped to life at the sight of her in it. I’d bought it for her just a few months before for her thirteenth birthday. I took a step inside and closed the door behind me quietly.
“Daddy?” she whispered and my cock throbbed harder as I spun around. “I’m home, Faye baby.”
“I missed you, daddy.”
I stroked my cock in my hand, coming out of the memory at those words.
miss you, daddy.” My dick erupted shooting cum all over my belly. That’s as far as I ever got in the memory before I came. I didn’t even have to think about how I bent her over that night and fucked her or the way she whispered how much she loved me after.
I released my softening cock and sighed. It was always the same. “I miss you, Faye baby.”
“Do you?”
I jumped at the sound of the voice right next to my head. “Wha—”

“Do you miss her, dad?”
The light in my cell came on just as the thick steal door slammed shut. I

blinked at the bright light.
“Rhett?” My son’s visage emerged once my eyes adjusted. “What are you

doing here?” I hadn’t seen my son since I was sentenced. He’d sat in the crowd alone watching me with contempt-filled eyes. But I hadn’t cared, not really. He wasn’t the one who mattered. Faye mattered.
“Miss me, dad? It’s only been what, over twenty years?”
Rhett was older now. In his fifties. “How?” I couldn’t really wrap my head around the idea that he was here in the cell with me. My own son. The son who never visited me. The son who helped put me away. The son who took my Faye baby. “Why the fuck are you here?” I tried to sit up but he pressed his hand against my chest, forcing me down. I wasn’t strong like I used to be—I was in my seventies now and the years hadn’t been as good to me.
“I’ve been waiting to come here for a long time.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means it’s taken years for me to get the access I wanted. To be able to

come here and see you.”
“You could have just come to visiting hours like Faye did.” I wanted to rub it

in his face that she came to see me. It may have been twenty years ago, but she had. She’d come to me with all her beauty and her brilliance. She had made something of herself, my Faye baby. She had become someone without me. It crushed me, destroyed me.
He gritted his teeth together and pressed his hand harder against my chest. “What I want couldn’t happen during visiting hours, dad.”
A chuckle escaped my lips. It didn’t sound as bitter as it felt coming up my chest.
“What are you laughing at?” Rhett’s face reddened.
“Maybe you’re more like me after all. Come here to fuck me up? Beat me senseless?” Rhett narrowed his eyes. More laughter came, shaking my belly. “Well, by all means, beat me up, Rhett. An old man. That’s what I am. You came all the way up here in the middle of the night to beat an old man!”
“I came up here to tell you all the things I was never able to tell you.”
“Oh, good. I can’t wait to hear about your pathetic life.” Rhett had always been worthless in my eyes. Too soft. Too easy. Then when he became a lawyer he was too tight-laced about right and wrong. He was too black and white about the world. I didn’t like it. I knew better than anyone about all the things that lurked in the gray.
“She married me. Your Faye baby.” He spit the words at me.
“You’re lying.” An ache bloomed in my chest. I tried not to think about the last thing she said to me when I saw her.
“I’m in love with Rhett, Taylor. And this will be the last time you ever see me.” Her words echoed in my head. I had gotten good at pretending that hadn’t really happened. I’d gotten good at pretending she didn’t mean them.
“No. I’m not lying. She loves me. She’s always loved me.”
“No. Stop. Shut—”
“She never really loved you. You forced her hand when she didn’t know any

better.” Rhett voice shook on the end.

“That’s not—”
“It IS true!” Rhett shouted. “She never wanted you. She was a little girl! You were supposed to be her father. You were supposed to love her like a father. Not the fucked up way you did.”
“It doesn’t matter.” I shook my head and looked up at the ceiling. I didn’t have to listen to Rhett. I didn’t have to hear his words.
“Are you fucking kidding me? It more than matters.”
Another chuckle bubbled on my lips.
“Why the hell are you laughing?”
Images of Faye flitted through my mind. “Because it doesn’t matter if you’re

with her now. I’ll always be her first. She will always have loved me first.” I looked into his eyes. The eyes of my only son. “It doesn’t matter that you think I took her love, son. Whether I took it or not, it was still mine and it will always be mine.
Pain ripped through me, utter body-convulsing pain. For a moment I thought my heart had ripped in two, but glancing down revealed that it hadn’t, a knife had been stabbed into it. It protruded from my chest with Rhett’s hand wrapped around the hilt. Blood. Red blood. It seeped from around the blade staining my orange jumpsuit, making it look black.
“Rhett.” His name was a whisper on my lips. My son. The man who married my Faye baby. The man who sent me away to prison. I knew even before he pulled the knife out of my chest and plunged it into me again that he would also be my killer. My murderer.
I was going to die at the hand of my own son. We weren’t so different after all. Who would come to my funeral? There wasn’t anyone left. My mother had died years ago and she was it, not other family besides Rhett.
Faye came to my mind as the pain exploded inside me, seeming to consume every nerve ending. Scenes, moments of our time together flashed through my mind in time to the sickening thud of the knife being pushed into my chest over and over.
“My Faye baby.”
“She was never yours. Never.”
“She’ll know it was y-you.” The words were a whisper from my lips. It didn’t

matter that Faye hated me, that she thought she loved Rhett. She would always love me. Always. And she would never condone my murder. Never.
“No. She won’t. That’s why it’s taken me so long...” But Rhett’s voice was far away and I was falling, falling away from the light, from Faye. I couldn’t see her anymore.
I couldn’t see anything. 

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Tuesday, September 1, 2015

The FILTHY Series: Bonus Scene #3

Hey guys!

I hope everyone is doing well. The last two weeks have been crazy as my son started first grade and I started on my last semester as an undergrad (F YEAH!). But things are going well, I have even started writing something new and secretive...hehehe. <3

Without further ado, I will give you all what you really came here for.... the 3rd bonus scene from The FILTHY Series. If you missed the last three you can check them out at the following links: Epilogue, Bonus #1Bonus #2.

The Inbetween—during the six years apart
I let my car idle in the truck stop parking lot. The hum of the engine was quiet in the cold night air.
I shouldn’t be here.
But that was obvious. I knew better. I knew I shouldn’t be here at this place of all places. The place where I drug Faye to my car more than once. The place where she fucked hundreds of men. The thought made my hands flex on the wheel.
Put the car in drive. Leave.
But I didn’t. I continued to grip the wheel until my fingers ached.
It’d been five months. Five months since she left. Five months since she went away and I let her go. Just two months ago I had finally pulled my life together by my fucking bootstraps—with Cayden’s help. Two months since I had been sloshed drunk out of mind. It seemed longer though. Like my fucked up, hazy state happened a millennia ago in a different world, a different time. It seemed farther away than the last time I had Faye. When I pushed her up against my car and fucked her. Since I had taken from her what everyone else had already had.
I was just like them. Like him. My father. I was a piece of shit. There was no arguing with it. It was the truth. I put him away forever just to replace him with myself.
Shame. The same feeling that had been slithering through me for months, threatened to swallow me whole. It threatened to engulf me, until there was nothing left.
I needed a drink. Alcohol. I wanted it. Whiskey. I wanted to feel that burn. It was the burn that made this feeling go away. It set the shame on fire until I couldn’t feel anything, until I was just numb.
I shook my head. No. I couldn’t go back there. I couldn’t. I would lose everything this time. It was a miracle I hadn’t lost it all to begin. Lucky. I was lucky. I told myself that everyone morning when I rolled out of bed to go to work. My new bed. The one in Cayden’s spare bedroom. I was lucky to be alive and to have a job still. I was lucky there were people in the world like Cayden.
A soft rap on my window made me jump. A woman stood there.
Not Faye.
But I knew she wouldn’t be here. Cayden had checked. He looked every day for a month after Faye left and hadn’t seen a trace of her. She hadn’t come back here, just like she promised.
The woman at the window was older, close to my age, early thirties or so. Her dark hair was dirty and matted. Her skimpy clothes didn’t look any better. She had to be cold. It was winter after all and temperatures had been in the forties all week. But she still wore tiny ripped up shorts and a pink top that didn’t cover her belly.
I rolled down the window.
“You’ve been sitting here for a long time.” She smirked at me. “You looking for a good time?” Her breath smelled bad, like she hadn’t brushed her teeth in a
good while. But I wasn’t deterred by this. Not in the least. This was what I came here for.
“Yes.” I pulled out a wad of cash. “Get in.”
She smiled at me seductively and walked around to the passenger seat.
I already had my pants undone by the time she climbed in. I didn’t care that

we were sitting in the middle of a truck stop parking lot. I didn’t care that this was illegal. I had no fucks left to give about anything. My cock felt the same way.
I hadn’t been inside a woman in months. Not since Faye left and I ended things with Sarah. But now it was time. In this place with a dirty hooker. I was ready.
“Look at you, big boy.” She eyed me appreciatively.
“No talking. Suck it.”
“Wait a second.” She held a finger up. “Don’t be pushing my head down. I

hate gagging.”
I snatched the wad of cash off the dash and flipped through it. “Three

hundred bucks.” I glanced at her. “I want you to gag.”
Her eyes bugged. “Wait, three hundred just for a blow job?”
I set the cash on the dash and fisted my cock. “Yes.”
Her gaze darted between myself and the money. Her hands trembled in her

lap and I knew what she was thinking. I knew she was imagining all the crack she could buy with that money. All the drugs that fry her brain until she was blissfully unaware that she was the scum of the fucking earth.
“You’ve got a deal.” She lunged forward, taking my cock to the back of her throat. Pleasure rippled through me. It mingled with that shame I couldn’t shake. The two twisted together, becoming something bitter inside me.
I pressed my hand down on her head forcing her to take all of me. Every single inch of my thick cock.
She gagged, forcing my cock deeper.
Shame. This was how I treated Faye. Like a fucking whore when I took her up against my car. When I plowed into her roughly, and came inside her. Just like this, almost. Except I was paying the whore-junkie gagging on my cock. I pressed my hand harder on the back of her hair. The strands were greasy, sticking to my fingers. I hated the feeling. I loathed it. It made my want to fling her away from me and speed off with my shame.
But I didn’t.
I dug my fingers harder into her scalp. She gagged again, but she didn’t stop. She didn’t try to deny me. She wouldn’t. Not with three hundred dollars on the fucking line.
She gagged again. The feeling only made my dick harder.
The image of Faye popped into my head. Her leg wrapped around my waist while I moved inside her. Her fingers clinging to my shirt. The way she looked at me. Her brown eyes so dark under the alley light, but so full of something I didn’t even want to consider. Full of all the things I could never give her.
I pressed down harder on the greasy head. She gagged again, triggering something carnal inside me. Something bitter and hateful. I thrust my hips up
just as pleasure exploded behind my eyes. “Faye!”
Faye’s face, her parted lips as she came around my cock covered my vision as I continued to thrust into the warm mouth swallowing me. Except that mouth wasn’t just gagging anymore. She was vomiting all over my cock, but I didn’t care. I didn’t give a fuck as the cum squirted out of me. It seemed to be drug from somewhere deep inside me, pulled from the darkest spaces of my subconscious until I was completely empty, vacant of all the shame, the pleasure. Life.
She pulled back and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. I expected her to be mad that I fucked her face until she vomited all over my cock. I wasn’t even sorry that her eyes were watering. Monster.
“You know Faye?”
Her words startled me and stopped me as I reached for the towel in my gym bag. “What?”
“Shauna will be worried about me.”
The memory of Faye and I in the car that day I took her to the doctor practically two years ago flashed into my head.
“Faye. Do you know her? I’m Shauna, her friend. I—I haven’t heard from her in over a year and—”
“Get out.” I cut her off.
“Get out.” I tossed the wad of cash into her lap and dug out my wallet. I

threw another hundred dollar bill at her. “Now.”
Shauna didn’t waste any time. She snatched up the money and all but fell out

of my car.
I watched her run across the parking lot. Hate filled me as I watched her too-

thin legs move out of sight. I couldn’t explain it. I couldn’t define the way I felt aside from the hate and the loneliness. I wiped the vomit off my dick and threw the towel out the window while I drove home.
It wasn’t until I pulled into Cayden’s driveway that the shame came back, resurfacing like it always did. And I realized didn’t hate Shauna. I hated myself. 

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Wednesday, August 19, 2015

The FILTHY Series: Bonus Scene #2

Hey y'all!
Quick announcement before I post the second bonus scene from The FILTHY Series. 
I'm not offering the opportunity to order signed paperbacks of The FILTHY Series for a limited time. Click here to get the details and order your copy! OR click the link above that says "Order Signed Paperbacks".

Okay, and nowww without further ado, here bonus scene #2 of 4. <3

Faye’s First John
Faye. Age: 16
I shivered in the cold wind. The shorts and sandals I chose to wear when I left the house two days ago hadn’t meant much then. I hadn’t even considered them as I left the house. The one I shared with my mother and Taylor. The house where my baby was conceived through hate and blood. The house where I nearly bled out while Taylor fucked me.
But that was all going to change. I was done. Done with Taylor. Done with my mom. I didn’t know where I was going. The rides I’d hitched had landed me here. I looked up at the yellowing sign of “Sandy’s Motel”. It hung crooked and a couple of the letters didn’t light up anymore. I didn’t have enough money to spend the night—no, all the money I had, had been spent on food, a different cheap motel, and a bus ticket that for a ride I’d missed.
When Taylor went to work two days ago I left. I finally felt like some semblance of myself again—though I wasn’t entirely sure who I was anymore. But I was alive. I was me. Faye Turner. And I wasn’t going to live in that house with those monsters. Not anymore.
“I can’t wait until you’re all better, Faye baby. We can start over.”
His words from the night before I left made me shiver. He had crawled into bed with me for the first time since he fucked my bloody, dying body. He’d been around, hovering, but never said much after my emergency run to the hospital where he no doubt doled out thousands upon thousands of dollars to save my life and keep mouths shut.
I’d lain there and looked into his eyes. Blue eyes I knew. Eyes I had looked into a million times. Eyes that loved me—or used to. He seemed so sincere, so intent, that things could really be new again. That we could really start over.
For a moment I considered it. I thought of what it would be like. The things we would do. The places we would go. I imagined his loving hands on me, those were the best. Kind and gentle. It had been a long time since he’d touched me like that.
“It will be good, just like it used to be. I promise.” His hands had fluttered down to my belly and I fought the urge to recoil, to jerk the fuck away from him. But I knew better. I could see the monster there just on the other side of that gentle love. The love was just a mask that covered that hideous being. I didn’t want it to come back.
“’Scuse me, miss?” A deep voice jerked me from my thoughts. A guy who didn’t look much older than me, stood a few feet away from the curb I was sitting on. “You got time for me?”
I frowned. “Time?”
He smiled sheepishly and I noticed that one of his front teeth was crooked, slightly overlapping the other. “All the other girls are already taken right now, thought you might be lookin’ for a customer.”
“Customer?” I blinked.
A horrified look covered his face. “Oh, ah, ma’am I-I’m so sorry. I th-thought

wrong.” He turned and started to move off.
“Wait.” The word was out of my mouth before I could think better of it. “You

think I’m a prostitute?” I asked, a giggle bubbling on my lips. It wasn’t funny. Not at all. I should have been offended. But somehow I wasn’t. Somehow I was giggling. It was probably because I was tired. It didn’t matter that I’d spent the last two nights in a bed. I’d barely gotten a wink of sleep.
I kept waking up to images of Taylor. To him bursting through the door and carrying me back home. I had to stay hidden, to get far away—to a place where he could never find me. I didn’t want to know what he would do to me if he did.
He’ll kill me.
Of that I was certain. I belonged to him—at least that’s what he thought.
I chewed on my lip. I was out of money with only a granola bar left in my backpack. I hadn’t thought very hard about leaving. I had just decided I wouldn’t live my life as Taylor’s whore anymore, as my mother’s emotional punching bag. So I left. Just like that. And two days in I was already more tired and hungry than I had been in my whole life.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, the lighting isn’t real good over here. My mistake.” He turned to go again.
“Wait.” I should have kept my mouth shut. I should have let the man go on with his life and I go on with mine. I should have looked back on this moment and laughed that this random guy wanted to pay me for sex. But I didn’t. Instead, I squeezed my fingers together at my belly, twisting and turning them together until they ached. “I am.”
I swallowed. “I’m a prostitute.”
“Oh.” He smiled sheepishly. That smile awoke something in me. It wasn’t

love or attraction—oh, no, it wasn’t either of those things. It was something that told me I could do it. I could be whomever I wanted. I didn’t have to belong to Taylor. I didn’t have to be my mother’s daughter. Not if I didn’t want to.
“You’ll get a room for us?”
“I already got one, darlin’.” He sidled up to me. I noticed he wasn’t too terrible looking up close. He had some acne on his cheeks, but his eyes were a sea green and his teeth weren’t too yellow. “Right down here. Room 110.”
“Great.” I swallowed, hoping he didn’t notice how nervous I was. Hoping he didn’t see that I was new at this.
New. I almost snorted at the word. Sex was the last thing I was new too. “How much for the night?”
“The night?”
“Yeah, I wanna have you all night long, baby girl.” He leaned in and brushed

his hand along my cheek. I shivered. I could smell the stale cigarettes on his breath.
“Uh...” I almost chickened out. Right then. Right when I thought about what I was really about to agree to. To spend all night with a strange man between my legs. Pumping into me until came over and over. Taylor popped into my head, Taylor and the blood.
“You’re killing her!” My mom’s voice echoed in my head and I shook it.
“I’ll give you a hundred,” he cut in.
“A hundred dollars?” Surprise fluttered through me.
“Yeah.” He leaned in and pressed his lips against mine so quickly I didn’t

have time to flinch away. His lips were different, smaller, less firm than Taylor’s. I didn’t like them, but I didn’t dislike them either. They were just lips that had touched mine. Lips that didn’t belong to Taylor.
Something about that reality shuttered through me and made me feel alive for the first time in over a year. I didn’t have to belong to him. I didn’t have to belong to anyone.
“It will just be sex right?” I glanced around. “With you?”
“Yeah, baby girl.” He wrapped an arm around my waist. “Just me all night.”
I let him lead me to motel room 110. I let him take my clothes off, strip me

bare on orange, stained carpet. His muddy eyes were greedy as he looked me over. Desperate even.
“You nervous?”
“What, uh, I—”
“Want somethin’ to take the edge off?” He reached into his pocket pulled out

a little baggie filled with white powder.
I frowned and twisted my hands together. “What is that stuff?”
“Blow.” He shook a little bit out in the space between his thumb and pointer

finger. He pressed his nose to the space and inhaled. He rubbed his nose. “You’ve never had it?”
I shook my head slowly. My fingers rattled against one another.
I could just try it.
He shook more of the powder out onto his hand. “Get on your knees,” he said when I bent awkwardly at my waist toward him.
The carpet was rough against my skin, prickly almost, as if someone had spilled something sticky there and never cleaned it up.
“Now just press your finger against one nostril and inhale with the other,” he said.
I didn’t have another moment of indecision this time. I didn’t stop to consider what I was doing. Instead I followed his directions inhaling the powder into my body. The back of my throat tasted the way the Bunsen burners at school smelled during a science experiment.
But I didn’t have time to think about that because he stepped out of his pants and pulled his shirt over his head. His chest was hairy and less muscular than Taylor’s. I reveled in the difference. In the awkwardly done skull and crossbones on his shoulder. The imperfections called to me somehow. My nipples hardened at the sight of his dick.
Or is the drugs?
I didn’t really care.
His cock bobbed there between us, smaller than Taylor’s, but a little bit thicker.
“You wanna suck it?”
I glanced up and met his eyes. I should have been afraid. My brain kept

shouting it at me. That I should be fucking terrified of this stranger who was about to fuck me. But I wasn’t. I felt strangely calm. “Do you want me to?” My voice was even, smooth like jazz music.
“More than anythin’.” His cock jumped when I fixed my eyes on it. Almost as if it knew I was watching it.
I got on my knees in front of him. It wasn’t until his dick hit the back of my throat did I realize that I didn’t even know his name. This man who’s dick tasted salty—Taylor’s used to taste like this after he worked out in the yard on Saturday’s. He would come inside and I would devour him, swallow him whole until he was coming down the back of my throat.
Taylor would be so angry if he knew what I was doing. If he knew that I was gagging on someone else’s cock. That thought only made me suck harder, and try to take more of the stranger’s dick down my throat. It made me pump my wrist a little faster—until I was nothing but a bobbing head and a flexing wrist. Until I was just a body of flesh sucking a cock down my throat. I was no one to the man before me. No one but a good time. A blip of pleasure. I wasn’t this stranger’s Faye baby.
I wasn’t anything.
I was no one.
And he when he exploded, his cum draining down my throat mixing with the

drugs, his body convulsing in pleasure with his hands buried in my hair, I became invisible to the world, to Taylor, and most importantly—to myself. 

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Tuesday, August 11, 2015

The FILTHY Series: Bonus Scene #1

Hey y'all!
As promised, at the bottom of this post is the first of 4 bonus scenes that are available in the complete FILTHY series. I will be posting the scenes over the course of the next several weeks. If you missed last week, I posted the epilogue--to read it first, click here.

Before I get to the bonus scene, I have a quick announcement (a good one, I promise!). I recently opened up my own Cafe Press store to sell some of my book related merchandise. I've kept it on the DL because I wasn't sure how everything was going to turn out, but I got my first shirt in the mail yesterday and I LOVE it so much! They come in all different types of shirts as well as a tote bag! To check out the store click here, or click the 'Merch' link above.

Okay, my announcement is officially over...and here is the first bonus scene. Enjoy! -- Remember, if you don't want to wait for all the bonus scenes to come out, you can purchase the complete series on Amazon (free for KU users).

The Very Beginning


It was just a stroll through the mall. I was just going to buy my girlfriend, Marissa, a new bottle of perfume for her birthday. Not that she needed it. Not that I really wanted her to be happy. That was the thing about women, especially the women I dated. They were all a good ten to fifteen years younger than me, and they were all bitches who complained about everything.

Marissa wanted to be wined and dined on her birthday. She wanted me to spend thousands of dollars on her. Fucking ridiculous. But I was going to do it. I knew I would—not because of some sense of chivalry, not because I loved her. Fuck no. That was the farthest from the truth. I was going to buy her some expensive perfume, take her somewhere fucking expensive for dinner, and then spend the night in some penthouse suite. I do these things because I can afford it.

Also, because I like getting my dick sucked, and Marissa, for all her bitchy faults, can suck a dick like a champ, though it was probably because with my dick in her mouth she couldn’t whine and complain. Either way she would be choking on my dick by the end of the night and taking my load in her face. Happy Birthday, Marissa.

The perfume she liked smelled horrible and cost way too much, but I whipped out my credit card and bought it anyway. The lady behind the department store counter fluttered her eyelashes at me. She was pretty, dark skin and short curly hair. She couldn’t have been older than Rhett’s age, barely over eighteen.

“Your wife is one lucky lady.” She pressed the bag into my hand.

“I don’t have a wife.” I imagined how my cock would feel buried deep inside her pussy, and he came to life in my slacks, kicking against the zipper.

She raised her eyebrows. “You don’t?”

In less than five minutes I had her in the back of the clothing department’s storage room, her black dress pushed up over her hips.

“No panties?”
I slid my zipper down freeing my hard cock.
“Not today,” she whimpered.
I jerked a condom out of my pocket and slid it over my hard length. And then

I fucked her—this department store clerk that sold me perfume for my bitchy girlfriend. I fucked her until little cunt spasmed around my cock and I was squirting cum into the condom.

I didn’t get her number. But I’d be back for more perfume, at least that’s what I promised her.

Some people thought that kind of thing only happened in movies, but to me, it happened all the time. I exuded something that women wanted. Especially the young ones. I was in my late thirties, but I had the experienced look about me. The look that said I could make a woman cum over and over. And it wasn’t a lie.

I could.
The walk back through the mall was more enjoyable than the one in. Maybe because I’d just cum hard in a tight pussy, maybe because I was already thinking about how Marissa would wrap her lips around my cock later.

I heard it first. The voice. The soft lilting noise. Part of me demanded I keep going. It was just a small part of my brain. I didn’t listen to it.

I turned and I saw her. She stood in front of the pet shop window. Her long dark hair was braided down her back. She pressed her fingertips against the glass. They were pink, the little nails. The lightest color of pink. It reminded me of the lipstick they put on my sister’s lips after she died. It was so pale, so translucent. Sickeningly pretty.

“I would take such good care of the kitty, mommy. I will use the pooper scooper and clean out it’s poop box. The kitty will love me so much. I will make sure it has food and water,” she chattered on with her nose pressed against the window. My heart pounded in my chest, it seemed to rattle my ribcage.

“No, Faye. I already told you it was out of the question.”

Faye. The name slithered through my head like a snake, wrapping around the sane parts of brain and strangling them until they no longer existed.

I noticed for the first time, that there was someone else with the young girl. My gaze focused on the woman with cheap bleach blonde hair as she wrapped her fingers tight around the girl’s arm. Something in me threatened to snap at the aggressive movement.

“But mommy,” the girl turned and saw her face for the first time. She had round brown eyes that were full of a thousand emotions, so many I couldn’t seem to grasp onto one, they all flew too quickly. “I’ll give it everything it ever wants. I’ll make it happy!”

Something inside me awoke. It was a feeling I’d never experienced before. It was something between desire and protectiveness. Something buried deep between the lines of need and want. All the women I had ever been with had only cared for themselves. They had only wanted me because of my money and my big dick. But the little girl with the clear brown eyes—she wanted to love and care for something that wasn’t herself and that called to me like nothing else had.

“No! And that’s final.”

Anger snaked through me. Who was this woman to deny that innocent, sweet little girl? Who did she think she was?

My feet carried me to them. The girl looked at me. Faye. Seconds before I had been prepared to yell at the trashy blonde mom. I had been prepared to rip her a new one. But when those round brown eyes met mine—Faye’s eyes—the angry words left my lips.

I needed her. This little girl. Suddenly, I needed her more than I had ever needed anything in my life. Those brown eyes seemed stare into my very soul. It was as if she could see all the things I had done. All the fucked up things from my past. She blasted down all my walls and saw straight through me. She wiped the slate clean with her innocence. Just from one look I was something new. Something different than I had been my whole life. The feeling reverberated down to the very core of my being.
I couldn’t yell at the mother. I couldn’t do that and get to know Faye. The little girl who would be mine. I could feel it in my bones. I could feel it in every cell of my being. Faye was meant to be mine. And she would be.

I smiled at the mother. The ugly woman who had yelled at her. I gritted my teeth in my mouth when she noticed me. Her words were lighter when she spoke now. I watched her size me up with her dusty eyes, just like every other woman. I listened to her prattle on for several minutes—this woman whom I’d never met.

“—and this is my daughter Fa—”

“Faye.” Her name felt good on my lips. And she looked up at me with wonder, with his eyes that baptized me in their goodness. I wanted nothing more than to bury myself in that innocence. To immerse myself until there was nothing left of either of us.

I smiled at her. She would be mine—only mine. My baby.

My Faye baby.

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Tuesday, August 4, 2015

The FILTHY Series Epilogue

Hi Everyone,

As promised, I am going to post the Epilogue and Bonus scenes on my blog over the next five weeks. Today is the Epilogue. 
For those of you who are interested, you can purchase The Complete Serial Novel on Amazon--for just $2.99 for a few more days!-- (FREE for KU users) and have all of the scenes right now. 

Also, the paperback version is in the process of being formatted right now by the amazing Jade Eby. So it should be available to purchase here in the next couple of weeks. <3
Also, don't forget to add the complete serial to Goodreads

Now, here is the Epilogue you've been waiting for! 


One year later.

I watched Faye as she ran her hand down the spine of one of her books. It was one that sat on her bookshelf, a floor to ceiling one. She stared down at the cover with a lost look in her eyes, as if she was somewhere far away and not here in her apartment with me, packing up all her things.
“Are you okay?”
She glanced over at me quickly, almost as if she forgot I was there. She nodded slowly. I set down the box I was about to take out to the moving truck.
“Faye.” I touched her shoulder. She didn’t flinch, but she didn’t look up at me either. Her gaze was focused again on the book in her hands.
“This was my very first government book,” she said quietly. “Texas government.” She turned the book over revealing a cowboy hat on the front—typical Texas. “It was my first semester of college. I took this class and four others. But this class was the first class I went to. It was on Monday and Wednesday mornings at eight.”
“Dang, and eight am class, those are the worst.”
She rubbed her hands over the cover. “That’s what my aunt said, but it wasn’t. It was wonderful. My teacher was a lady who was my age now. She was full of life and full of love for her class, even though most anticipated it as being boring. She made it…special.”
“Special?” I reached out and ran my hand over the cover, wondering if it felt different than other books, as dumb as that sounded.
“I was so lonely and heartbroken when I started this class.”
My heart clenched in my chest, twisting.
“I didn’t know who I was anymore.” She glanced up at me. “But I found my way on my own.” She didn’t look sad, but rather neutral. “This book just triggered those lost feelings.” She moved her hand over the cover again. “I remember the first day, sitting there with this book in front of me, scared to death. Isn’t that just ridiculous? Of all the things that had happened to me, of all the life experiences I had lived through, I was terrified of my first day of college.” She giggled but the sound was thick, her eyes became glassy.
“Babe.” I pulled her to me. Her arms wrapped around my middle. “Don’t cry.” She didn’t say anything, but buried her face into my shoulder. My heart twisted more, painfully threatening to rip out of my chest. “You feel the same way today.” It was a statement, not a question. “You don’t have to move in with me. We don’t have to do this. You can take all the time you need.” I would wait forever and more. Faye was worth it.
“No.” She pulled back, her eyes red and puffy. “It’s a good thing.” She wiped her eyes. “I realized back then that it’s okay to be afraid of the good changes in my life.” She smiled. “Moving in with you scares the shit out of me, but it’s what I want. You’re what I want.”
My heart thudded in my chest. But the feeling was nothing new. Faye made my heart race every day. Every time she smiled in my direction. Every time she told me she loved me. Every fucking day.
It had been a year. A year since I had lifted her body off the ground at that cemetery and carried her home. A year since she had been mine. I don’t know what changed, what happened in the space of the hours that we were apart that day, but something had. And Faye loved me—she really and truly loved me.
Some days had been harder than others. Some days I could see the ache of the past in her eyes. But unlike the past, we didn’t run from it. Not anymore. We would sit and talk about the darkness that clouded her beautiful eyes and sometimes, only sometimes, she needed more than that. Sometimes she needed my hate. Sometimes she needed the pain of the past to make the future more bearable. I gave her that.
It would always be this way. I would always give her what she needed. No matter the price, right down to my very soul—I’d give it all away.
“I love you, Rhett.”
My heart thundered in my ears as I looked down at my past, at my future, the most beautiful woman in the world—the woman who saved me. “I love you too.”

Seventeen years later.

I watched them lower the black casket into the ground.
I wasn’t going to come here. To this place. I rarely ever came. Only once in a blue moon if I was feeling especially bitter or sad. But I was here today. I told Rhett I wouldn’t come. I promised him I would stay home. Even after all these years he was afraid of how I would feel when this day came.
He was scared I would fall apart. That I would collapse in on myself and fall into a place where he couldn’t find me. Though part of me knew it wasn’t because he was afraid I would collapse. He was more afraid that he would. He didn’t come because he couldn’t deal with the reality, the truth of what the casket sinking into the lush earth meant.
Taylor was dead.
I expected someone else to be here. Other people. Taylor had been someone of importance before he had gone to prison and his life had fallen apart. He’d had friends, extended family.
But I was alone at the graveside service save for some cemetery employees and—
“Who is this guy, momma?”
I glanced down at Charlotte. My daughter. Our daughter. Rhett’s and mine. She was eight years old now. A little blonde-haired blue-eyed thing that had wrapped her way around my heart when Rhett and I adopted her at the age of one.
I hadn’t wanted to be a parent, even after I married Rhett five years into our reunion. I had told him that children were out of the question. I was afraid far too afraid of the way a child of mine would turn out—even though they wouldn’t be my blood child, I was still afraid. Terrified. I had been certain I would fail them. I had failed my little boy. I’d looked at his bloody little body on a metal tray all those years ago. I didn’t want to fail another baby, another innocent life.
But as the years passed something had changed inside me and when I woke up one morning in Rhett’s arms I realized something was missing in my life. More than a year of waiting to adopt, Charlotte came along and she became my little blessing. My little ray of sunshine.
“He’s a man.” My answer to her question was pathetic. This place wasn’t right for her. She didn’t need to be here in the presence of the dead. Of the two people who had done such horrible things to me. But my decision to come here had been last minute, on my way home from picking Charlotte up from school.
“A dead man?”
Charlotte’s question drew my attention to her curly blonde head. “Yes.” I wanted to offer her more, an explanation. But I didn’t have one that would be easy to accept for an eight year old. I didn’t have a truth to give her that wasn’t colored with blood and misery.
We’d gotten there late and the small service was over. The pastor had departed just as we walked up. The lowering machine made a squealing sound once the casket reached the bottom. It was an awful noise, so awful that Charlotte released my hand and grabbed her ears.
I should’ve taken her away then. I should have led her back to the car, but I didn’t. Instead I stood there staring at the hole in the ground. The hole filled with Taylor. I hadn’t seen him since I’d visited him in prison nearly twenty years ago. He would’ve been in his seventies now. Just another elderly man who died in prison of a heart attack. That’s what the woman from the prison told Rhett on the phone. Taylor had gone to bed two nights ago and hadn’t woken up the next morning.
A peaceful death, that’s what the lady from the prison had called it. Peaceful. Easy. I couldn’t help but taste bitterness in my mouth at the news. Had I wanted Taylor to suffer? Had I wanted him to drown in his own blood? Maybe. No. I didn’t know, to be honest.
It just didn’t seem fair. I had known some wonderful people over the years who had lost their life too quickly to cancer or in an accident. People who lived out their lives in slow painful misery. Taylor hadn’t. He had been fine. Normal. He’d died in his sleep.
For a moment, just one simple moment, I had the urge to jump in that hole that would be his home for the rest of his life and rip the lid open. I wanted to shake his dead body until he felt all the pain. Until he knew all the ways I’d suffered all these years. Even with Rhett’s love, with his patience, with his kindness, with all the ways Rhett was the most wonderful man, I was still fucked up from all the things Taylor had done to me.
“Was he a bad man, mommy?” Charlotte’s words made me flinch, drawing me away from the crazy desire that burned through my veins.
“Why?” I whispered.
“You don’t seem happy or sad about him dying. You seem mad.”
I blinked down at her, at my perceptive little girl. She picked up on the most subtle things. She was only eight, but I was certain she knew there was something wrong with me—that there was a darkness inside me. A darkness that even her daddy couldn’t reach sometimes.
“He wasn’t a good person, Charlotte.” I crouched down next to her.
“Why not?”
I took a deep breath, sucking in the scent of freshly mowed grass. “Maybe I’ll tell you about him one day.”
She glanced back at the hole where a Bobcat machine was shoveling dirt on top of Taylor’s casket. “You promise?”
“Faye.” Rhett’s voice brought me back to my feet. Guilt shuddered through me. Guilt for not telling him I was coming here. I turned slowly as he came to stand next to me. Even though he was in his fifties now, he didn’t look it. Not by a long shot. Only a little bit of salt gray flecked along his temples.
“Daddy!” Charlotte squealed, letting go of my hand to wrap her arms around Rhett.
“Hi, baby. I didn’t expect to see y’all here.” He directed his words at me, his eyes full of questions.
“I didn’t expect to see you here, either.”
He nodded slowly. “I wasn’t going to come—”
“Neither was I,” I interjected.
A strained smile spread across his lips. I knew what that meant. I knew the reality of this. Taylor was his father—a shitty horrible father, but in the end he was still his dad. And sometimes death brought on ache people never thought they would have, even about the people they hated.
I reached out and took his hand in mine. Our fingers slipped together easily, like puzzle pieces fitting together, finding home. A sense of ease slipped over me. Rhett had a way of calming me with just the brush of his fingertips.
“He’s really gone,” Rhett said quietly.
I nodded slowly, my gaze focused on the nearly full grave.
“I always imagined how I would feel when this happened.”
I glanced at him. “Did you?”
“Is it like you thought it would be?”
“No.” He shook his head. “I expected to feel nothing. But that’s not what I feel.”
“Do you feel sad, daddy?” Charlotte fiddled with the ends of her hair with her free hand.
A small smile spread across his lips. “A little.”
“Mommy said she would tell me about the man one day.”
Rhett glanced over at me, surprise on his face.
I shrugged. “Maybe when she’s old enough.” In a backward way I knew that without Taylor I wouldn’t have adopted Charlotte.
“Maybe,” he said reluctantly.
“We’ll go and let you have your time.” I knew it was what he needed, to say goodbye to the man who had shaped his life as much as he had shaped mine.
Charlotte slipped her hand in mine after saying goodbye to her dad. We walked back to the car, but before I climbed in, I looked back at Rhett. He stood just before Taylor’s and my mother’s graves. The hole was completely filled in now.
Rhett’s hands were clasped behind his back and even from the distance I could see the movement, the swipe of his thumb over the other. His nervous twitch. I remembered being not too far from there in this same cemetery decades ago with Rhett. With the swipe of his thumb over the other on the day my mother was buried just next his father.
I thought about how far we’d come since that day so long ago. About all the hardships, the fights, the love.
“Mommy, are you ready?”
A smile spread across my lips. “Yes, baby.”
And as I drove home, to our home, Rhett’s and mine. I looked at his image fading in my rearview mirror and listened to Charlotte chatter about her day, and I was thankful. Thankful for all the endings that led to new beginnings.

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