tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25926180869265683052024-02-08T12:27:13.099-05:00Hockey Short StoriesSo many hockey players... Endless possibilities of sexy interactions...Rebel Hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03986619279683083552noreply@blogger.comBlogger36125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2592618086926568305.post-57380904904221474752012-04-24T22:30:00.004-04:002012-04-24T22:30:32.392-04:00Drabbles from A Lucky ShotIf you click here: <a href="http://aluckyshot87.blogspot.com/2012/04/new-oneshot-up-on-other-blog-post-game.html" target="_blank">Drabbles</a>, then you will be sent to a blog post that consists of five different 100-word drabbles, explaining how my characters from A Lucky Shot acted after Game 3, you know... the shit storm.<br />
Enjoy!Rebel Hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03986619279683083552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2592618086926568305.post-46230962479639079382012-04-24T16:29:00.002-04:002014-05-04T00:19:23.076-04:00Some Nights -- Jordan Staal<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: yellow; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Some nights, I stay
up cashing in my bad luck</span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: yellow; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br>
Some nights, I call it a draw<br>
Some nights, I wish that my lips could build
a castle<br>
Some nights, I wish they'd just fall off<br>
<br>
But I still wake up, I still see your ghost<br>
Oh Lord, I'm still not sure what I stand for
oh<br>
What do I stand for? What do I stand for?<br>
Most nights, I don't know anymore...<br>
oh woah, oh woah, oh woah oh oh<br>
oh woah, oh woah, oh woah oh oh</span></div>
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*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*</div>
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<b><i>Jordan, I love you. You’re a real prick sometimes, but you’re my prick.<br>
Shhhh, don’t talk baby, just relax. Everything’s going to be fine.<br>
Everything hurts. I just want the pain to stop.<br>
Listen. You, and Rachel, are going to be fine.<br>
Rachel, so you found out my secret, eh?<br>
Shouldn’t leave papers on the counter, Jessica.<br>
There was a short laugh, and then he watched as she arched in pain. Monitors
started going haywire, she screamed and grabbed his hand, holding onto him for
dear life. And then she settled back down onto the hospital bed. He watched her
chest rise, and when it fell… the solo tone echoed throughout the room. He
pressed a kiss to lifeless lips, and whispered he loved her one more time.</i></b><br>
</div><a href="http://hockeyshortstories.blogspot.com/2012/04/some-nights-jordan-staal.html#more">Read more »</a>Rebel Hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03986619279683083552noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2592618086926568305.post-22297597343414889082012-01-19T21:21:00.001-05:002012-04-24T23:49:46.780-04:00Getting Back in ShapeA Kris Letang one-shot, because even I'm excited that he's back!!<br>
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She unlocked the door and dragged her carryon through the doorway, kicking the wood closed with her foot.</div>
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“Kris? Are you home??”</div>
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The only light on was the one above the stove, and that usually meant that no one was in the house. But after the concussion, it wasn’t strange to have soft lighting on to make sure that he could find his way everywhere. Also, it was an off day, and he knew she was coming home…</div>
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“Where is that man,” she mumbled to herself as she set the mail on the counter and threw her keys on top of the small pile of envelopes. She was just about to turn around when she felt, more than saw, someone enter the kitchen behind her. Before she could find something to protect herself, two hands settled on her hips, and spun her around.</div>
</div><a href="http://hockeyshortstories.blogspot.com/2012/01/getting-back-in-shape.html#more">Read more »</a>Rebel Hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03986619279683083552noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2592618086926568305.post-39721521336551966972011-12-03T08:13:00.000-05:002011-12-03T08:14:28.298-05:00New Post: EPILOGUE for A Lucky Shot!I didn't think I could do it, I thought that Mel and Sid were complete... but then QFD posted a Christmas challenge for the group site, and this just came out yesterday. Enjoy!<div><a href="http://aluckyshot87.blogspot.com/2011/12/chapter-44-epilogue.html">Chapter 44: Epilogue</a></div><div>I'm hoping to get some other things written now, as well! I'll keep you updated!</div><div>RebelHeart</div>Rebel Hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03986619279683083552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2592618086926568305.post-83567032297916678532011-09-21T06:55:00.002-04:002011-09-21T06:57:27.382-04:00Change in commenting!Sooo, until recently, I hadn't realized that only registered users could comment! That's not fair to you who don't want to be known*<div>I just wanted to let you all know that I switched it so ANYONE can comment on the posts!</div><div>So, if there's anything you've wanted to write before, and you couldn't, feel free*</div><div>Just, please, no really mean stuff! :(</div><div><br /></div><div>And p.s. I'm trying to work up some more for that Ovechkin story!</div>Rebel Hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03986619279683083552noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2592618086926568305.post-62855082690997211182011-09-19T01:14:00.002-04:002011-09-20T23:14:23.131-04:00Alex the Great...<b>Can't sleep. Enjoy my slumber-deprived brain.</b><br><div style="text-align: center;"><br></div><div style="text-align: center;">*~*~*~*</div><div><div class="MsoNormal"><br></div><div class="MsoNormal"> “Babe, we have no time,” he groaned.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br></div><div class="MsoNormal">She ignored his protests and dropped to her knees, practically ripping the fly of his pants down. He was hard and pushing against the fabric, so she didn’t believe for a moment that he would stop her. Popping the button as well, she fished her hand in and pulled his hard cock out of his briefs.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br></div><div class="MsoNormal">“Really, you do not have to… fuuuuccccck…”</div></div><a href="http://hockeyshortstories.blogspot.com/2011/09/alex-great.html#more">Read more »</a>Rebel Hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03986619279683083552noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2592618086926568305.post-23495089325793946232011-09-13T17:36:00.000-04:002011-09-19T01:20:23.371-04:00Untitled, a Sidney Crosby one-shot<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"></span><br>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"><b>I don't know what to call this. Other than probably some sort of sin. That will go to hell for. Whenever I die. Which will hopefully not be for a long time!</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;">**~~*~*~*~*~~**</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;">“What are we doing here,” he whispered as she turned the door knob. She held his hand as she led him inside the building and up the staircase that then opened into the sanctuary of her church. There was no one else around. There were no lights on. It was eerie. Keeping his hand in hers, she walked up the center aisle until they were sitting in the front row.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;">Sid tried to ask another question, but she placed a finger to his lips and shook her head. The moonlight, or maybe streetlights, made the stained glass bounce off of his white shirt. She loved that shirt. It was soft, stretchy, and very thin. And it had those three buttons at the top. Taking what she wanted, she flung one of her legs over him, settling herself in his lap.</span></div>
</div><a href="http://hockeyshortstories.blogspot.com/2011/09/untitled-sidney-crosby-one-shot.html#more">Read more »</a>Rebel Hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03986619279683083552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2592618086926568305.post-39221691059306325392011-09-07T22:08:00.002-04:002011-09-19T01:20:37.621-04:00A Night at the County Fair<b><i>So, a while back I wrote a story that wasn't hockey related... and a bunch of you seemed to enjoy it... Well... I've been trying to work out some epilogues and things, but they aren't agreeing with my brain, so I managed to pull this out as a stress reliever* Hope you like a new installment of Maddie and Johnny!!!</i></b><br>
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*~*~*~*~*~*</div>
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Maddie sat in the grandstands, her hair parted down the center and braided in two strands. She tipped back her cowboy hat and sucked another long drink of her lemon shake. Best thing about the fair. Freshly pressed lemon juice, with sugar water, over ice. Pretty much just lemonade, but they always called it a ‘shake’ and it was refreshing. Especially on a hot day like today.</div>
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She propped on leg up, watching the guy at the end of her aisle as he stared at her. And who wouldn’t? She was definitely rockin’ the western wear tonight. Yesterday, for the rodeo, she’d worn the paisley sundress and flats, hair falling freely down her back. But tonight was the truck pull, and she was decked out in her aqua-colored cowboy boots, dark denim shorts and a plaid shirt that complimented her footwear. With a stark white cami underneath, she had snapped the shirt up to her breasts and then let the ladies stand out, encased in the country clothing.</div>
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John would love it.</div>
</div><a href="http://hockeyshortstories.blogspot.com/2011/09/night-at-county-fair.html#more">Read more »</a>Rebel Hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03986619279683083552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2592618086926568305.post-88781454625193837482011-08-26T16:18:00.000-04:002011-09-19T01:20:53.713-04:00It's STAAL Good<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 13px;"><b>Okay, okay... I know, cheesy title. But it will make sense when you read it*
<br>And yes, it's completely Staal related... And very dirty. WARNING!</b></span><br>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 13px;">*~**^**~*</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 13px;">Julia sat in her Roman history class, wondering how this professor could possibly know what the ancient Romans had done in their spare time. So what if there were writings stating the different parties and festivals people had attended or hosted. Those could have been made up. And like that many people actually took part in orgies and things of that nature!</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 13px;">"A lot of the threesomes and groups that are here in this book are often a man and his wife, and then his younger brothers. He was, in a sense, helping them into manhood. They would share a deeper bond, be better to one another hopefully."</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 13px;">Julia sat up a little straighter at that comment. Her mind focused on what her professor had just said. Now <i>that</i> brought back some memories of her own. Not too long ago she, and her boyfriend Jordan, had partied a little too hard. It wasn't until the next morning that she had realized how much they drank. And it was also that very morning that she realized she was in bed with two very similar looking men!</span></div>
</div><a href="http://hockeyshortstories.blogspot.com/2011/08/its-staal-good.html#more">Read more »</a>Rebel Hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03986619279683083552noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2592618086926568305.post-18727792255254799972011-08-26T16:16:00.002-04:002011-09-19T01:21:37.915-04:00Felt Good On My Lips<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 13px;"><b><i>Here's story 2 out of three that I finished on the train*</i></b></span><br>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 13px;"><b><i>There will be a note at the bottom of this!</i></b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 13px;">**~*~***~**~**~****~***</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 13px;">"Why are we going to <i>this</i> bar though?"</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 13px;">"It's supposed to be a good time."</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 13px;">"All bars are a good time!"</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 13px;">Loui listened to his fellow countrymen. They were bickering back and forth, as the foursome got out of the cab and stood in front of the building. You could hear Spanish music coming through the windows and there were strands of lights that looked like lemons, limes and chili peppers. Staring at the others, he let out a disgruntled snort as he paid the cabbie and turned to enter the bar.</span></div>
</div><a href="http://hockeyshortstories.blogspot.com/2011/08/felt-good-on-my-lips.html#more">Read more »</a>Rebel Hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03986619279683083552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2592618086926568305.post-17762072199895095932011-08-26T16:16:00.001-04:002011-09-19T01:22:00.195-04:00Tasty Treats*<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 13px;"><b><i>Okay, so while riding on the train to Philly today (Nice 7 hours trip!!) I got through some of the stories that I had started and never finished* This is one of them!</i></b></span><br>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 13px;"><b><i>I will be posting the other two after this!!</i></b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 13px;">-----**^^~^^**-----</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 13px;">"Hey Dust! You want the usual?"</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 13px;">Dustin Jeffery, professional hockey player, stood in the entrance to the little `mom & pop' ice cream shop with his hands in his pockets. He nodded his head, unable to even muster a simple monosyllabic word. Deryk, one of his partners in crime, came in the store with a jingle of the bell and ran into him.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 13px;">"Dude, move forward or I'll just run you over… Hey Jenn! Can I have a scoop of whatever's new this week?"</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 13px;">"It's a good thing you aren't allergic to anything. And that you burn off this stuff with like two laps of fast-skating! I'm still surprised your coach lets you guys come in here."</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 13px;">Deryk kept on talking with her, and Dustin clenched a fist, wishing he could just jump into a conversation like that with her. But every time he came in and saw her, his tongue got all tangled up in his mouth, his palms got sweaty and he was sure that he had the creepiest smile on his face.</span></div>
</div><a href="http://hockeyshortstories.blogspot.com/2011/08/tasty-treats.html#more">Read more »</a>Rebel Hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03986619279683083552noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2592618086926568305.post-43003358782306685722011-08-22T20:11:00.002-04:002011-09-19T01:22:38.447-04:00Come Back To Bed<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u><i>***Okay, so yesterday I was talking to a friend about a certain someone. This is what happens to late night conversations and my brain! I hope that the other couple fonts come through this properly!!***</i></u></b></div>
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She opened her eyes with a start as she ran through the pictures from the dream through her head. They gave her a great vision for the end of her latest story. And she needed to go write them down before they left her head. Twisting her head, she stared at the sleeping form of the man beside her. He looked so peaceful. Hopefully her movements and the small light from her desk wouldn’t wake him.</div>
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Sliding slowly from the bed, she then tip-toed over to her desk while throwing her robe over her naked body. The clock on her nightstand said it was late. Sometimes she hated when ideas struck her in the dark. It always seemed to take forever to wake up.</div>
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<i>Just type out the dream Fiona. Then you can crawl back into bed with that delicious piece of man!</i></div>
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Smiling to herself, Fiona booted up the small netbook that she kept separate for writing alone. It loaded quickly and she opened a new document before furiously typing all of the information she could remember from the vivid images of the dream she’d woken from just moments before.</div>
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She pulled the sash of the robe up and bit down on it, chewing subconsciously as more and more words began to fill the space. She didn’t hear the sheets rustle as he sat up and leaned against the headboard. She didn’t see him watching her with lusty eyes. And she didn’t see him push the sheet down farther so his rapidly growing length was standing at attention in his lap.</div>
<a href="http://hockeyshortstories.blogspot.com/2011/08/come-back-to-bed.html#more">Read more »</a>Rebel Hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03986619279683083552noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2592618086926568305.post-85574665105562749682011-08-13T23:09:00.002-04:002011-09-19T01:22:55.852-04:00The Birthday Present<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><i>I had started this after Max went to Philly, but then... life got in the way, writing got put on the back burner, Max made me want to cry... But I promised someone this a while back, so enjoy!!!</i></b></div>
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“What do you want for your birthday?”</div>
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“Max not to be leaving.”</div>
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“I have no control over that.”</div>
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“You are the captain of this team. You are Sidney Crosby. You are The Next One. You could do anything you wanted.”</div>
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“He’s signed a legal contract.”</div>
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“Kidnap him and let him live in the basement.”</div>
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“Alivia… I know you two were close but…”</div>
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“Sid, he’s my best friend.”</div>
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“I thought I was your best friend.”</div>
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“No, you’re my boyfriend.”</div>
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“I can’t be both??”</div>
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“I can’t have this conversation with you right now. I’m going to Max’s to help him pack.”</div>
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Sid heard the click and sighed as he set his phone down on the table. He knew this would hit her harder than any other person, fan or player. She had met Max the first time he ever came to Pittsburgh. And the friendship they had made him jealous.</div>
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She world never admit to it, but he knew that she had slept with his friend before they had gotten together. Max had told him one night. Told him that if he ever hurt her, he’d steal Liv away faster than a Chara slapper.</div>
<a href="http://hockeyshortstories.blogspot.com/2011/08/birthday-present.html#more">Read more »</a>Rebel Hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03986619279683083552noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2592618086926568305.post-25479263458155875912011-08-11T23:16:00.002-04:002011-09-19T01:23:13.064-04:00Crazy For You<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><i>I started this a while back, and I needed to get some writing done, so I tried to pick it back up* I hope it doesn't sound too much like crap! LOL</i></b></div>
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Gabby looked up from her book. It was almost seven o’clock and she had no plans. It was lame to be sitting at home, reading a cheesy romance novel on a Friday night, wasn’t it? Noticing she wasn’t alone like she had been when she got home after work, she turned to her companion.</div>
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“Well Max, what are we going to do tonight?”</div>
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When she got no response she slid her foot along the couch cushions and used it to nudge the sleeping form at the opposite end. Still no response.</div>
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“Hey! Maximus! I’m talking to you!”</div>
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Finally, one eye opened and there was a huff of breath before Max stretched and yawned. Then, being the lovable tabby that he was, her furry little friend made his way over and pawed at her leg until she moved her book so he could curl up in her lap.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
They stayed relaxing like that until her phone buzzed on the side table. Reaching for it, she swiped her thumb over the screen in a star pattern to unlock it. Then she stared at the new message. It was Nikki. Gabby sighed and tapped the message.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>We need to talk.</i></div>
<a href="http://hockeyshortstories.blogspot.com/2011/08/crazy-for-you.html#more">Read more »</a>Rebel Hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03986619279683083552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2592618086926568305.post-30796440644825236482011-07-17T23:07:00.002-04:002011-09-19T01:23:26.193-04:00I Like ItFor a certain someone who likes this guy*<br>
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*~*~*~*~*</div>
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<br></div>
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“Did you see who’s here tonight?”</div>
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“I did. I saw the group of them walk in. And he was kind of hard to miss with that blonde hair.”</div>
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“And…..”</div>
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“He’s a pretty boy.”</div>
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Valtteri let out a disgusted noise and grabbed his beer off the bar. He threw down a twenty and spun around, winding back over toward. It was nice to have a free night to go out… but next time he was going to go out by himself. Catch a movie or something.</div>
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Pretty boy, he thought to himself. Like he could help the blonde hair, the blue eyes, the sharp features. When did that become a bad thing to have? He was a hockey player, he was tough, he was manly…</div>
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“Like I don’t have something to offer women besides my looks,” he mumbled under his breath.</div>
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“What do you have to offer exactly?”</div>
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Val jerked his head to the right and stared at the person who had just spoken.</div>
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Her head came up to his eyes. Long, dark hair fell over her shoulders in curls, a large fluff of bangs swept to the side almost covered a pair of vibrant, green eyes. A cute, little turned-up nose was set atop of a full set of shiny red lips. And a dusting of freckles was barely noticeable under the lighting of the club.</div>
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“Hawww… Hi.”</div>
</div><a href="http://hockeyshortstories.blogspot.com/2011/07/i-like-it.html#more">Read more »</a>Rebel Hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03986619279683083552noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2592618086926568305.post-59960975453332994782011-07-08T19:47:00.002-04:002011-09-19T01:34:50.325-04:00Nothing Wrong - Kevin Bieksa<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I had a test done yesterday to make sure there wasn’t anything weird going on with ‘my girls.’ Ultrasound showed that there’s nothing there to be worried about, and I was so elated that I started writing something. It ends a little differently than my true story, but hey… this is a fiction place, right?* Enjoy!!!<o:p></o:p></i></b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">*~**~*~**~*~**~*<o:p></o:p></i></b></div>
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She threw open the door, calling out his name as she practically hopped over the threshold and into his place.</div>
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“JUICE!!! Kev? Where are you?!”</div>
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As she took the stairs two at a time, she was still calling his name. She saw him pop out from the bathroom and ran to him, jumping into his startled arms. He coughed out the mouthwash he’d been swishing around and she smiled at the minty smell in the air. As they crashed against the wall, he wrapped his thick arms around her to protect her as they slid to the floor.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Pressing her lips to his, she grabbed at the towel, wrenching it open and smoothing her hand over his cock. Feeling it twitch she stroked slowly, burying her face in his neck and nipping at his skin. He let out a grunt and his hands held her close as he lifted his hips to her touch.</div>
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“You must’ve known I was coming home with good news,” she whispered and felt his entire body go rigid.<br>
</div><a href="http://hockeyshortstories.blogspot.com/2011/07/nothing-wrong-kevin-bieksa.html#more">Read more »</a>Rebel Hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03986619279683083552noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2592618086926568305.post-25276704803213276562011-07-05T23:26:00.001-04:002011-09-19T01:24:03.140-04:00Fireworks -- A Simon Gagne one-shot<div class="MsoNormal">
“Babe, if you don’t hurry up I’m coming in there and dragging out!”</div>
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Annie giggled and shook her head at Simon’s exasperated tone. He would appreciate the extra minute it was taking for her to slap her lip gloss on. Like they weren’t going to be there earlier than everyone else anyway.</div>
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Smacking her lips together once more, she adjusted the top of her dress and made sure the curled ends of her long, dark hair fell smoothly across her back. She could hear him muttering to himself on the other side of the door. No other man had ever been so concerned about time, in the history of the world. And she did enjoy pushing his buttons from time to time. It was always fun to watch that handsome face get a litt…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Annie Johnson! Woman, you try my patience!”</div>
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“Simon Gagne! Stop freaking out! It’s a Fourth of July picnic… and you’re Canadian!”</div>
<a href="http://hockeyshortstories.blogspot.com/2011/07/fireworks-simon-gagne-one-shot.html#more">Read more »</a>Rebel Hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03986619279683083552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2592618086926568305.post-45201900367105894582011-07-03T01:22:00.000-04:002011-09-19T01:24:38.929-04:00Just Friends - Max Talbot, Part 2 of 2<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I didn’t know if I would be able to do this. not this soon after the news. But with all the Max hate I’ve been hearing, I felt like I needed this. like it was my own brand of therapy. I know that the first part was a lot hotter, but this is how it came out when I started typing. I hope you like it though, no matter what.<o:p></o:p></i></b></div>
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*~***~*</div>
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Shannon opened her eyes and looked around the room. Max was sitting in a chair by the window. He was staring at a spot on the wall. An empty spot. And he looked miserable. She wrapped the sheet around her body and stepped over to him. Placing an arm on his shoulder, she bit her lip to keep from laughing when he jumped.</div>
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“Hey handsome. Big day today, eh?”</div>
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“I pretty much have my mind made up.”</div>
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“Oh yeah… anything you want to talk about?”</div>
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She sighed as he pulled her down onto his lap. He buried his face in her neck and she heard, and felt, him take in a huge breath.</div>
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“What I said the other night… that I’d take you with me…” he paused and she watched him swallow, the action looking like it was costing him dearly. “Would you ever consider it?”</div>
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This was new territory. They had always just kept it simple. She was head over heels in love with him though. And for him to say something like that… he must be pretty serious about her as well. But to jut drop everything and move to a new city… that was asking a lot of someone who wasn’t even called ‘girlfriend.’</div>
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“Are you serious?”</div>
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“More serious than I’ve ever been about anything in my life. The thought of losing you… that’s worse than the thought of leaving Pittsburgh. Or maybe it’s similar… because in order to leave this city… I have to leave you too. I don’t want that. In one day I don’t want to lose <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">everything</i> that I’ve come to lo… love.”</div>
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She gasped and turned her head, staring into those beautiful eyes. He looked as though he was going to cry.</div>
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“And I would hate for you to leave. That would mean learning to love someone all over again. I don’t want to learn how to love someone else. I want to love you. Just you.”</div>
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“Is it actually possible for you to just move though?”</div>
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“I’m a writer. I can write from anywhere. It’s the whole ‘finding a new place to live’ and all that stuff.”</div>
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“With me,” he whispered before grabbing her neck and pulling her close for a kiss. She moaned as his mouth devoured hers. He tasted like coffee. And caramel. That meant that…</div>
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“You went and got Starbucks without me??”</div>
<a href="http://hockeyshortstories.blogspot.com/2011/07/just-friends-max-talbot-part-2-of-2.html#more">Read more »</a>Rebel Hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03986619279683083552noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2592618086926568305.post-50469335238084097702011-06-27T11:58:00.000-04:002011-09-19T01:25:00.312-04:00Just Friends - Max Talbot<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 13px;"><b><i>So, a fellow hockey friend and I have been messaging one another on facebook and she put this frickin' idea in my head... Because she's the devil, and wants to torture me by making me think about Max. This is what spawns from 'harmless' chatter*</i></b></span><br>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 13px;"><b><i></i></b></span><br>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 13px;">*~***~*</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 13px;">She stumbled down the sidewalk, her heels clicking unevenly as she swayed with each step. The music from the club was getting softer and softer, the bass thumping less and less in her head as she made her way toward the house she knew so well.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 13px;">There was a part of her that knew this was a bad idea… that she should've stayed indoors with the rest of her friends. But that other side, the side that had little horns and a tail, that side was telling her that come Hell or high water… Max Talbot was going to get an earful of what she had to say.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 13px;">Turning left, she walked a few more paces and stared at the building opposite where she was. Squinting, she noticed his bedroom light was on. She pulled out her phone and sent a mass message to the girls, letting them to let them know of her plans, now that they couldn't stop her. Then she silenced her ringer and dropped the device back in her bag.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 13px;">"Iss now or ne-*hiccup*-ever," she said with a giggle. Then she turned her head both ways dramatically, making sure no headlights were coming to injure her and she crossed the street. She tripped up the flat sidewalk and almost fell into his door. Righting herself, she brought her hand up to the wooden frame.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 13px;"><b>*POUND*<br>*POUND*<br>*POUND*<br>*POUND*<br>*POUND*<o></o></b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 13px;">She heard the quick footfalls of someone running down the staircase and a muffled curse. Thinking maybe she should <i>knock</i> again, she lifted her fist and was about to hit the door once more when it flew open inward. The momentum she'd been putting into the knock threw her forward and she let out a small shriek as she fell into the arms of a scruffy-looking man.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 13px;">"Shannon?! What are you doing he--"</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 13px;">"You have been a very nau-*hiccup*… a very naugh-*hiccup*… you're bad."</span></div>
</div></div><a href="http://hockeyshortstories.blogspot.com/2011/06/just-friends-max-talbot.html#more">Read more »</a>Rebel Hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03986619279683083552noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2592618086926568305.post-6398546653902461422011-06-26T01:25:00.000-04:002011-09-19T01:25:22.656-04:00For Stephanie, because she always wanted this*<div class="MsoNormal">
The glaring red numbers said 3:02 in the darkness of the bedroom. He saw her there, lying on his side of the mattress, curled around a pillow. Her hair shone in the moonlight, the blonde color glowing almost like gold. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He dropped his bag quietly in the corner and kicked off his shoes and socks. The jacket was next, falling on the floor as he walked slowly toward her. He practically ripped the tie from his neck, the pressure of it earlier feeling like it would strangle him. He threw it toward the hamper, probably missing the basket, but his eyes were focused on the body in the bed.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As he stared at her, sleeping so peacefully, he was torn between waking her and letting loose his frustrations, or falling asleep and waiting until morning. She sighed and it looked like she had burrowed into the pillow. With a small, very small, smile, he unbuttoned his short and shrugged it off, undid his pants and let them fall, and then pulled his undershirt off. Now in just a pair of cotton boxer briefs, he stretched one more time, cracking many of his bones and feeling his sore muscles pull.</div>
<a href="http://hockeyshortstories.blogspot.com/2011/06/for-stephanie-because-she-always-wanted.html#more">Read more »</a>Rebel Hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03986619279683083552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2592618086926568305.post-9697442982709000012011-06-24T15:54:00.002-04:002011-09-19T01:25:40.752-04:00S.E.X. -- Richards/Stoll for Flyerfly*<div class="MsoNormal">
I know she's hurt and confused right now, but we were talking, and hopefully this will help her out, and soothe her tortured soul*</div>
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*~*~*~*~*~*</div>
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The club was hot. Not as in the filled-with-unnaturally -hot-women or music-totally-bumpin’ hot. It was temperature hot; had to be at least fifteen to twenty degrees warmer than the temperature outside, and he was pretty sure that it had hit triple digits even though it was now night.</div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Where is this guy? He said meet him here.</i></div>
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Suddenly he was there, standing right in front of him. A hand clapped him on the shoulder and a drink was thrust into his hand.</div>
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“Hey man, great you showed up! A couple of the others are in the VIP already, wanna go head up there? It’s quieter!”</div>
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Mike nodded and the wound their way through the sea of bodies, up the stairs, and to an area that was roped off and, as promised, slightly quieter.</div>
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“So, what do you think of L.A. so far?”</div>
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“Only saw the arena and my hotel room. But both of those were nice,” he said with a smile.</div>
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“Well, me and the boys will show you how to do it up right out here. No worries man!”</div>
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“Thanks Jarrett.”</div>
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Stoll grinned and walked over to the private bar. Turning around, Mike leaned against the railing and stared down at the crowd. He took a hearty swallow of his drink and as the glass came down he spotted her dancing close to one set of speakers. He watched her hips sway to the music, her hair falling down her back in waves. She had on a short, black skirt and a shimmery, backless shirt. He hadn’t seen the front yet, but from this view alone he was hooked.</div>
<a href="http://hockeyshortstories.blogspot.com/2011/06/for-my-philly-friend.html#more">Read more »</a>Rebel Hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03986619279683083552noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2592618086926568305.post-31201486734759163432011-06-15T23:53:00.001-04:002011-09-19T01:25:58.421-04:00Come In With the Rain<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">I’ve been trying to write different stories, work in some ideas… nothing was really working. Then I thought, why not write a little something to vent some frustrations and maybe clear your head?!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">So… this is a one shot to show how Lexie got her man!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">You may remember Lexie from my first story, A Lucky Shot, and how she was with a certain defenseman of the Penguins*<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">I hope you enjoy it!!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">I’ll leave my window open,<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">‘Cus I’m too tired at night to call out your name.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Just know I’m right here hopin’,<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">That you’ll come in with the rain.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">I’ve watched you so long,<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Screamed your name,<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">I don’t know what else I can say.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">But I’ll leave my window open,<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">‘Cus I’m too tired at night for all these games.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Just know I’m right here hopin’,<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">That you’ll come in with the rain.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Come In With The Rain – Taylor Swift<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
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*~*~*~*~*~*~*</div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">June 22, 2009<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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The sun was bright, the rays bursting through Lexie’s bedroom windows and lighting the entire room. Squinting at her night stand, the red numbers of her clock read 8:27. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Why am I awake?!</i></div>
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She hadn’t gone to bed until almost four o’clock in the morning, and that was only because she and her friends had completely ran out of alcohol. Twisting over so she didn’t need to see the glaring numbers anymore, her eyes focused on a photo on the opposite stand. She was standing between two men. One was dead now, killed the previous year in a motorcycle accident. And the other one… she stared at the summer photo.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Kris Letang had been everything she’d ever wanted. She’d grown up with him some, watched him play hockey with her brother, and spent time with the two of them during off seasons. And right after Luc died… he’d come home, during the Stanley Cup Final, to attend the funeral.</div>
<a href="http://hockeyshortstories.blogspot.com/2011/06/come-in-with-rain.html#more">Read more »</a>Rebel Hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03986619279683083552noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2592618086926568305.post-17490513715923325892011-02-26T00:16:00.003-05:002011-09-19T01:26:13.906-04:00Sinning - a non-hockey one shot!Okay, so this one isn't hockey-related... I mean, the guy's name is John/Johnny, so it could be like Tavares... or Tazer if I spelled it wrong on purpose... LOL<br>
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But this wouldn't leave my head.</div>
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I had started it awhile ago... and I finally finished it.</div>
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Hope you like it, but if you don't... well, that happens*</div>
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*~*****~*</div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
“Maddie!!”</div>
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Her name was bellowed from the rafters of the church and she squealed as two arms wrapped around her waist and hauled her around in circles as a raspberry was blown against her cheek.</div>
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“Johnny, you put me down right now!”</div>
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Maddie found herself placed back on the ground and spun around before she was back in those arms. He smelled like fresh cut grass and gasoline.</div>
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“Someone’s been working’ on the farm today!” He laughed as he finally released her.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Ha, yeah. Crap. I still smell like gas?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Just a little. No worries. So how have you been?”</div>
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The two started catching up on the past few months since they’d seen one another, relaxing in one of the pews as others came in and out with things for the talent show this weekend. They had just gotten into the details of a plan for dinner together when Emma burst into the sanctuary, duct tape in one hand and plastic in the other.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Awesome! John, Mads, I need you two! Some of the windows need re-plasticized before the opening tonight.”</div>
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“Is that even a word,” Maddie asked her, grinning from ear-to-ear.</div>
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“Funny. And yes, I believe it is. So… hop to it peeps!” Emma threw the duct tape at her, John caught the plastic, and before they knew it, the two of them were outside the church, blacking out some of the basement windows for a more dramatic look. Walking along the inner wall, Maddie pulled the ruined piece of plastic off one of the windows and held up a newly cut length.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Ok, I’ll hold it in place, you tape it up. Deal?”</div>
</div><a href="http://hockeyshortstories.blogspot.com/2011/02/sinning-non-hockey-one-shot.html#more">Read more »</a>Rebel Hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03986619279683083552noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2592618086926568305.post-46142715247158050362011-02-06T23:16:00.001-05:002011-09-19T01:26:23.871-04:00ASL done and a new story!<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #717171; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, 'Palatino Linotype', Palatino, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">Alright loyal followers, I have settled on a title for my new story!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #717171; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, 'Palatino Linotype', Palatino, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">And I have started a blog for it, with a bonus*</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #717171; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, 'Palatino Linotype', Palatino, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">You'll have to go to the page to see what that bonus is!</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #717171; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, 'Palatino Linotype', Palatino, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">And I hope that you guys will follow it like you did with this story!</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #717171; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, 'Palatino Linotype', Palatino, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #717171; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, 'Palatino Linotype', Palatino, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">It was so much fun to write out my Sid story!</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #717171; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, 'Palatino Linotype', Palatino, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">I was proud of myself for actually following through and finishing it!</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #717171; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, 'Palatino Linotype', Palatino, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #717171; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, 'Palatino Linotype', Palatino, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">I know I said an epilogue would be coming... but I think I'm going to just end it with the chapter that I posted.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #717171; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, 'Palatino Linotype', Palatino, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">But I promise, there will be some info in this new story at some point, so you'll know if anything new happens with Sid and Mel!! And the other characters that you got to know and love*</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #717171; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, 'Palatino Linotype', Palatino, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #717171; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, 'Palatino Linotype', Palatino, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">So here you go, the page for the new story:</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #717171; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, 'Palatino Linotype', Palatino, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><a href="http://fallintome25.blogspot.com/" style="color: #487cc2; text-decoration: none;">Fall Into Me</a></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #717171; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, 'Palatino Linotype', Palatino, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #717171; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, 'Palatino Linotype', Palatino, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">Hope to see a bunch of you jump on the follower train*</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #717171; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, 'Palatino Linotype', Palatino, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #717171; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, 'Palatino Linotype', Palatino, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">Rebel Heart out!</span></div>
Rebel Hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03986619279683083552noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2592618086926568305.post-53618352657385292952011-01-29T17:17:00.001-05:002011-01-29T17:17:29.184-05:00Final chapter of A Lucky Shot coming up!<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, Utopia, 'Palatino Linotype', Palatino, serif; font-size: 14px; color: rgb(113, 113, 113); line-height: 19px; ">Dear loyal followers,<div>Thank you SOOOOOOOOO much for sticking around!</div><div>I just finished typing up the final chapter, and sent it off to me 'editor'*</div><div>Once she gets it back to me, I'll be posting it!</div><div><br /></div><div>And to whoever just found the story and started following it, you are my hero, because it gave me 87 followers!</div><div>I think it was perfect that it got done, and the follower count... EPIC!</div><div><br /></div><div>Hopefully I haven't let you down throughout the course of the chapters, and I hope that you'll all enjoy the way I play this out!</div><div><br /></div><div>Two things I'd love to know from you all...</div><div><br /></div><div>1. Do you want to have an epilogue, something to kind of show you where the story could lead in the future?</div><div>2. I'm going to be doing a Max story next. I've got a bunch of it written out already, and I was just curious... how many of you would be excited about that?</div><div><br /></div><div>Even if you want to post as Anonymous, I'd really appreciate the feedback!!</div><div><br /></div><div>Thanks again for the comments over the months that it's taken me to get this out!</div><div><br /></div><div>RebelHeart</div></span>Rebel Hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03986619279683083552noreply@blogger.com1