Tayla Mackie
Stories (3)
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The Easter Bunny
Easter. The time of rebirth and rejoicing. The howl of the hound behind him quickened, his feet moving. He bounced over a rock, running pell-mell across the slippery bayou. When the scent-hounds quieted, the Easter Bunny gave himself a moment to wait out their pursuit, hiding behind the trunk of a mighty tree.
By Tayla Mackie5 years ago in Fiction
The Art of Desire
Come to the barn only when the farmhouse lights go dark. Her perfume fluttered from the textured pink surface. Sweet and sensual, Simon held her note close, breathing in her scent. He craved her far beyond any desire he experienced. Silken petals in summer wafting with the sickly sweetness of honey and citrus. A shiver like a bolt coursed through him. So desperate for her touch, the smell of her skin up close. Sweet Mary. Rolling his head back, he sucked in air untainted by Mary. Did she want him? A poor street urchin begging for coins on the side of the road. An act of rebellion, perhaps. Her father would never approve.
By Tayla Mackie5 years ago in Fiction
