Watching Othello

I remember watching Macbeth in high school and reading King Lear but I've never had the pleasure of Othello. Laurence Fishburne & Kenneth Branagh are absolutely delicious in this version. I read the reviews and while some gave this version one or two stars, I was very impressed with it.
Oh, and just to show you how clueless I am, I thought the term "crocodile tears" was a current expression, not something that could be traced back to The Bard of Avon himself:
"If that the earth could teem with woman's tears, / Each drop she falls would prove a crocodile."

Good grief, if only I could write something as profound. 

Enjoy!

Baton Blog Hop

Hola lovely friends :)

Its been ages since I've done a blog hop but when the wonderful and ever prolific author Bobbi Romans comes a'calling, who can resist her? I know I can't and besides, doing this sounded like a pretty cool way to get back in the swing of things. I mean, I get to blab a little about what I'm working on as well as brag about the authors I'm passing the baton to. Oh, and about Bobbi? I'm quite sure that once you get ensnared in her vibrant story-telling, you'll be scouring the 'net for more. She's a riot and a half, a rebel with heart of gold, a huge Norman Reedus fangirl and can write sexy-ass shifters like nobody's business.
You can find Bobbi at the following links:
Website
Facebook
Blog
Twitter
Goodreads

Right now, I have to answer some questions (as per the rules) and then pass the baton so here I go:

1) What I am working on?
Right now I'm working on two projects: an Interracial Romance with a nod to the 1970s Blaxploitation era and the other is as far to the opposite end of the spectrum as you can get, a Superhero romance.

2) How does my work differ from others of its genre?
I haven't seen too many of either so hopefully mine will stand out.

3) Why do I write what I do?
The images that I have in my mind have to be written down. I think my head will explode if I don't :)

4) How does your writing process work?
I have to leave the house to write. I get way too distracted if I don't. I grab my satchel (paper, pens, occasionally the laptop, etc.) and head out. I'm either in the nearby coffee house or across the city, hiding in Chinatown.

5) Snippet from WIP (I own all errors :)):

The bus swerved erratically, the screech of rubber against the concrete vibrating through the moving vehicle as it plowed through the evening rush hour traffic. Other motorists moved at its approach, pulling over to either side of the highway to avoid getting hit. A helicopter flew overhead, its bright spotlight keeping pace with the bus. Several police cars followed behind, the persistent blare of their sirens adding to the heightened tension of the moment.
A lone female figure, dressed in a blue-black body suit, crouched atop the speeding bus. Long black hair, braided into a thick rope, whipped wildly behind her as she crawled towards the open hatch near the front end of the vehicle. She glanced up. A thrill of alarm speared her chest and she flattened herself against the roof just in time as the bus went under an overpass. The circular disc in her ear crackled and she rolled her eyes in exasperation. 
"Midnight, what's your twenty?" The unmistakable rumble of Seth's deep voice filled her with both pleasure and dread. "Midnight, come in."
Kira grit her teeth as the bus suddenly veered sharply to the right as it roared onto the express lands, the motion causing her lower body to swing precariously close to the edge. Straining to hold on, she grunted. "I'm kind of..." another sharp swerve the bus almost dislodged her, "...busy at the...moment-"
"What's your twenty?" He barked. "Dammit, Kira, where are you?"
Kira heard the worry underneath the rumble of his deep voice. She started to reply but was saved from answering as the bus jerked to the left and she rolled the other way, her gloved hands grasping for purchase. With a squawk of alarm, she slipped off the roof and caught the edge in time. Her body slammed into the side windows. She gasped as the breath left her lungs in a painful rush. - ©Ren Thompson 2014

Now the three authors I'm going to pass the baton to today are some of the coolest people out there. You should follow them and check out their work:

Judith Leger is a sweet, sassy Southern lady with a lovely voice to match. She's a true romantic, a fantastic author and a wonderful friend. Judith also writes M/M romance under the name of Jadette Paige. Let Judith and her alter-ego take you on a magical journey filled with adventure, laughter and, most of all, love.
For Judith: Website, Facebook, Twitter, Goodreads
For Jadette: Website, Facebook, Twitter, Goodreads

JS Wayne is simply BAD ASS when it comes to his creativity. Not only does he write scorching erotic romances, he's a poet, an artist AND a righteous brother in the fight for equal rights and the prevention of child abuse. He's somebody you'll want to know, trust me. You can find my favorite guy at the links below:
Website, Facebook, Twitter, Twitter (2), Goodreads, WOCA

Harper Rush is one of those hidden gems who is just starting to make her presence known on social media. She loves science fiction, fantasy, paranormal, anything that "bends the rules of physics" See, I would have never thought of it like that :) She's hilarious and smart as hell. As a fellow fanfic aficionado, she can totally understand the obsession I have with Spock and Uhura. I believe this lady is going to be huge on the scene with her eye on self-publishing. Harper is in the process of building her website but for now you can follow her on Twitter and Facebook.

Thank you for stopping by and I hope you visit again soon.
Bless xoxo

Hello friends,

It has been over a year since I've written anything on here. I've been meaning to but, to be honest, the drive wasn't there. Other things got in the way and my poor little blog suffered for it.

I have another website for which I don't know the password. Isn't that something? I tried to get a password reset sent to my email address but what happens? I don't know the blasted password for THAT email address that was tied to the website. So I'm kind of pulling out my hair, trying to get myself organized with that :)

Anyhoo, this blog with be going under some REN-ovations (get it? REN-ovations? har har, I kill myself sometimes)

Hopefully, I can get this blog moving again. I miss writing my little bits of flash fiction, ranting and complaining and all that other stuff.

I'm sneaking this in at work, by the way :)

Have a great day, stay warm if you live in a cold climate, and I'm jealous if you're living in a hot one :)

R

His Love - 3WW

Droplets of early morning dew kissed the fragile strands of her daily ritual. Day after day, I'd watch intently as she created her masterpieces. I admired her fervor, her attention to the finest of details. 

Sunlight, warm and fragrant, also witnessed her labor from above. I used to be jealous of its intrusion and never wanted to share her but no longer.

I realize now we were always alone, this weaver and I. 

Our journey together would end soon and she would move on to another, her memory of my devotion fading before the day was over.

I loved yet hated her for it. 

Though she hadn't yet begun to touch me, the hot, sticky feel of her rising hunger pumped a ribbon of terror through my veins. As if she sensed my hidden turbulence, the shade of my death paused as I lay in a frustrated tangle.

Several eyes, fathomless pools of obsidian, caressed me gently while she asked.

"Are you comfortable?"

Relieved to know she still cared that much for me, I began to weep.

"Very much so."

She leaned in close, the breath of her whisper thrilling me one last time.

"Then let us begin." 

Her beautiful smile was the last thing I remembered...

© Copyright 2012 by Ren Thompson July 18, 2012

3Word Wednesday: Feel, Shade, Tangle

Taxi

I was dressed and waiting for my taxi to arrive. Michael had left already. His private limousine had been on standby and, as I watched from the window, he'd been whisked away without a backward glance. He didn't ask me if I needed a lift, not that I would've accepted.

It was an understanding between us, when we embarked on this affair; a weekend of  pure bliss, uninterrupted by our everyday lives. I wasn't available, not in the way he deserved so I treasured each second I had with him. Once the moment of his imminent departure arrived, we shared a final kiss and then he would leave, the memory of his lingering scent the only thing I had to hold me until our next tryst. 

The clouds had moved in sometime during the afternoon, chasing the sun away. Now the gentle patter of rain followed by fingers of water, streaked the windows like mournful tears. 

I sighed, feeling the weight of my solitude. 

Rainfall was not meant to be endured alone.

I straightened up when the familiar yellow vehicle came into view. I hurried to the door, checked my purse for everything and grabbed my tote. The ride down the elevator was quick, unlike when I first arrived. It seemed like it couldn't move fast enough.

When I reached the lobby, I nodded to the concierge before stepping through the revolving glass doors. The doorman on the other side immediately held an umbrella over my head as he escorted me to the waiting taxi-cab.

Once I'd thanked him and climbed in, the door was shut behind me. I adjusted my cape, and smoothed a careful hand over my up-do. The cab driver maneuvered his way into traffic, his eyes meeting mine for brief second.

We didn't speak for the entire trip for which I was thankful. The swish-thud of the windshield wipers, the shhhh of tires against the wet asphalt and the occasional beeping horn of an irritated driver broke the silence. 

When the taxi pulled up in front of train station and parked, I reached for the door handle. I never had to pay as my lover took care of my expenses for me. He promised to take care of me always and I took him at his word.

I paused when the cab driver suddenly turned to lean an arm along the back of the front seats. His warm brown eyes, lightly creased in the corners, held a gentle smile and I blinked against the sudden stinging of my own.

When it came, the familiar rumble of his voice engulfed me in a warm, safe hug.

"Don't make the same mistake I did, sweetheart."

I averted my gaze, feeling the blush of guilt climbing my face. I tried to keep the defensive tone out of my voice but failed miserably.

"What would you have me do, then?"

My father sighed and looked out of the side windows. When he held out his hand, I reached to entwine my fingers with his. A thumb rubbed against my knuckles while he considered what advice to give me. I waited with my heart in my throat. 

Daddy sighed again and lifted my hand to kiss my fingertips.

 "If you love him, don't keep him waiting."

All I could do was nod, as a single tear slipped down my cheek.

 

 

© Copyright 2012 by Ren Thompson July 16, 2012

Magpie Tales 126