Sai Marie Johnson
A multi-genre author, poet, creative&creator. Resident of Oregon; where the flora, fauna, action & adventure that bred the Pioneer Spirit inspire, "Tantalizing, titillating and temptingly twisted" tales.
Ravensbruck: the Experiments Begin
“Imogen?” The raspiness of Martine’s voice as she whispered was almost inaudible – fear rising in her throat to the point of suffocating her vocal chords. And still, she had no idea where her older sister was. A terrifying reality had befallen them both, and she knew it – she had known it from the moment her mother had subjected them to Heinrich’s gaze. Lurching forward in her bunk, Martine’s eyes frantically tore at the darkness. Where was she? Did they take her again? Will this be the last time? It was a feeling she knew that many of the others in the room with her felt – and often, but this time it belonged to her because it was her sister whose bunk lie empty while all the others – at least those with living occupants, were full.
Plague of The Apocalypse; from Duality, the End of an Age
Delaehla snorted slightly. She hated this. In fact, she didn’t understand when any of it would ever come to an end. Or if ever. The funny thing about it was the way Jillian busted through her motel door room like time mattered or some shit. It never, ever did.
A rush of air flowed through the room and a low whisper seemed to come in with it, "Are you always this loud?" came her low tone, arms suddenly risen with chill bumps. To the onlooker, such things would appear as if they came in with the draft, but the truth was electric sensations flowed through her body all because of the static that seemed to linger within the air.
All I Will Ever Be
"You will be better off having chosen her and yet you will still perish from this life with my name as the last thing to trace your wretched lips. Mark my words, you shall," The ice, how it seemed to creep from lips so rigid with a cruelty that they almost seemed frozen into a wicked smirk. And, yet, for all the odd and roughness to the air, Asani did nothing more but spin about-face, her heels making way away from him as he began to contest at her back.
Cut Yourself Some Slack
I am a Creative – across the board. I have always enjoyed crafting and making things with my own hands. I’ve delved into several types of art forms because of this. Even interested myself in mechanics, electronics, and building things on the internet. I’ve always just liked building and mostly staying to myself. I’m not fully agoraphobic but my life has led me to a place where I’ve come to fully appreciate and love my solitude. I am the most productive on my own and when given directions I do well with getting tasks done. I am diligent and capable, but one thing I’ve come to realize I really enjoy over the last few years is jewelry-making.
Memories of Baking with Mama
I have a few great memories of baking with my mother. She's a great cook and incredibly talented at anything she puts her mind to so I learned a lot by watching and assisting her. I made it a point in life to try to spend some time in the kitchen with all the people who mattered most to me and become a sort of living recipe book by learning their particular tricks of the culinary trade. I've been fortunate to actually learn a lot of diverse cooking with some really incredible people and if there is one thing besides music that can unite people of all walks of life it is food!
Simply Scarlet Excerpt: One of my novels
"Do you trust me, Camille?" he asked her suddenly. "Mmhm," she breathed into his palm in a muffled tone. "Good," he said, grinning as he slid his hand down from her mouth to graze her tender throat; he continued to slip his palm down her throat, inching it closer to her full pert breasts. His finger slipped beneath the fabric and he drew it up beneath her blouse, continuing to trail his fingers down between the valley of her breasts.
A Dream of Him
A rush of breath slid past her. Once again, the urgency to awake and search for him had brought her from the sweet clutches of slumber, and she…desirous from the memories of the illustrious scenes that had occurred there were enough to make her heart flutter wildly against her chest. She never could seem to shake him. It was as if something had been evoked within her so long ago that his imprinting had been deep; to the core of her soul. She could never forget him. No matter how many others might have held either of them. No matter how many past wounds that the two had both endured in their very separate, yet somehow always interwoven paths.