Tag: Eventide Love

Eventide Love #10

Patricia Tsouros's avatar Patricia Tsouros on September 8, 2016

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London
6.15pm

I am in a black hole my life moving slower and slower through time as I approach the phone, pick it up and start to dial the number. Transit through time as I have come to live it will halt, as my horizon fades completely from view torn and crushed.

The constant fear and muddled emotions like a blue frost caught me. As ‘She’ answered “hello, hello’ I freeze, dropping the receiver. Maybe I could wait until tomorrow, hold on to another day with Chris. I am desperate for him not to contradict me, not to swear ‘She’ does not exist but admit that the ‘non-entity’ as he describes her is in fact, his constant companion. At least then he would show me a gleamer of truth, of honest love.

I am frantic not to believe I am paranoid and crazy as he insists. Like some supernatural presence, I can sense ‘Her‘ being in his life, in our life. I am struggling to surface from a limited perspective of my one-dimensional life with Chris. My life is falling apart; I am fading like a dying bulb into darkness. I am terrified of the future without Chris but even more terrified of my life with him.

My constant knot of anxiety tightens, wrenching my gut, retching I rush into the bathroom, grab hold of the sink, turn on the tap and splash water on my face in an attempt calm myself down. My body is shaking uncontrollably. I lean against the cold stone of the basin and slowly raise my face to the mirror. I appear opaque. A dark shadow of myself. Suddenly, terror-struck at the ruthless solitude of my situation. My body swooned as I realised that no food had passed my lips all day, I was weak, tired and sick. My mind filled with one thought. Oh my God, Chris was a plotting profligate–a base and low rake who had been simulating undying love, to draw me into a snare he deliberately laid to strip me of my dignity, rob me of my self- respect and capture my life. A sharp pain in my chest caught my breath, and I struggled for air. He swore to me that ‘She’ was not his partner, that I was paranoid, jealous and ridiculous. I now know my time is limited and that exposing him and his lies are the only thing that will save me. But I am not ready for this right now. I know deep down that the moment will come, in which I will make that call that will explode my life.

7pm

I look all around, the darkness shrinking in and the sidewalk trees standing over me like an army of guards. The Skyscrapers like a jungle shielding the tears falling from the sky. The city is not just buildings and people. It feels like a battlefield of my losing fight.

For a second I wonder should I just give in. But then my mobile rings, and it’s Chris. I find myself off balance for a moment, and then my mind instinctively shifts back to the present moment. I answer the call.

“Hi, How are you? I miss you. I hate you being in London and me all alone in Dublin” he bellows sounding full of the joys of life.

“I am okay darling.” I gasp. I take a deep breath to steady my voice. “I am walking to the Frieze Art Fair opening. It’s lashing, can I call you when I get into a dry, quiet place.”

“Okay, but make it quick. Don’t keep me waiting. I want to talk to you. Love you loads.” and Chris hung up.

A frigid gust of wind sweeps up; I wrap my jacket tightly around me as I quicken my step to Regents Park where Frieze Art Fair is based.

This is story of Eventide Love.

We are on the way with Eventide Love; blog to book. A factual fiction, psychological, erotic thriller based on the Presidential Election set in Ireland 2011/2012.

If you would like to receive a book launch offer especially for all of you as loyal followers and fans, please register below. Your details will not be shared. I am wracked with doubts and insecurity about my writing but am lucky to have a wonderful editor, Amy Scott, holding my hand.

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Eventide Love #9/1

Patricia Tsouros's avatar Patricia Tsouros on February 16, 2016

 

Symptoms-of-Drug-Addiction-AOur Romantic attraction was like some mysterious chemistry, a storm of electrified senses that overcame us. Our vision one off loveliness or hunkiness standing near. Flutters erupted in the belly. The heartbeat quickened. Adrenaline rushed to the bloodstream. Hallucinogenic feelings of intoxication drenched the brain. During opening stages of our romance and subsequent passion, the brain was awash in drug-like chemicals. It was a natural high, and like drugs, the feeling became addictive.

My drive for love, for closeness caused me to become a junkie, to make bad choices and impede my ability to move away from the “amphetamine-like high” of the beginning of our romance. Eventually, I was plunged into gut-wrenching despair, this rocketing from the high and lows of my craving for Chris, who fed and starved my addiction.

The wild, mercurial relationship shackled me to an opiate-like anxiety. I was living on the edge of life. I longed for serenity, for the harmonious security of attachment.  I was so stuck in the addiction I did not sense that Chris’s developing ambivalent attitude to our relationship, to my addiction, was killing me, and he was on a high from my slow destruction.

This is story of Eventide Love.

We are on the way with Eventide Love; blog to book. A factual fiction, psychological, erotic thriller based on the Presidential Election set in Ireland 2011/2012.

If you would like to receive a book launch offer especially for all of you as loyal followers and fans, please register below. Your details will not be shared. I am wracked with doubts and insecurity about my writing but am lucky to have a wonderful editor, Amy Scott, holding my hand.

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Eventide Love #9

Patricia Tsouros's avatar Patricia Tsouros on February 14, 2016

It was Sunday morning, and we had arrived back from Athens, Greece only a few days earlier. We were still in the hedonism of our trip, irresistibly passionate with each other.

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He grabbed my hip and lifted me, my legs wrapping around his waist. I leaned down and pressed my mouth to his. His tongue plunged in, and then he was walking toward the bed, every step moving me against his crotch and we fell onto the sheets in a tangle. As he kissed me deeply, my fingers unsnapped each button slowly feeling his torso against my skin, suddenly Chris jerked up and urgently ripped off his crisp, pin stripped shirt. He clasped the back of my head and pulled me up to his face. I felt his lips like silk on my jaw, caressing over my neck as I arched my back and pressed myself against him, wrapping my arms around the tight muscles of his back. His lips paused at my neck and then trailed lower. I sucked in my breath in the ecstasy of his lips and tongue played with one nipple and then my other. Arching into him, silently begging him, I grabbed his neck, his teeth scratching my nipples pulled my legs up around his waist, I could feel the hard length of him against me, I shuddered, my limbs shaking. I involuntarily flung my head back with anticipation as his weight shifted as he moved his hand down to my clit his fingers edging my clit. I pressed myself against him crying out for his touch as he fingers continued to torment me.

“Chris,” I begged. “Please.”

“What babe? Tell me?”

“You know,” I said my back arching tighter against his fingers.

“Beg me, baby,” He whispered

“Ohhh please, fuck me. Just fuck me.”

With every fiber of my being, I was aching to explode, to celebrate and relish the electricity of our intense emotional release. He slid his finger deep and hard inside me, and my hips jerked, a load cry tore from my throat.

“You’re so hot.” He softly moaned.

He moved me to my side and curled his body behind mine, his finger acutely moving in and out in a precise rhythm that sent my blood flowing like quicksilver in my veins. His other arm cradled my neck against his shoulder as he free hand reached out and stroked my breasts, pinching my nipples hard between his fingers. Moaning, I laid my hand over his finger pressing inside me and rocked against him as he slowly slid another finger inside. I sank my teeth into his biceps muffling my scream, and fiercely rode the waves of pleasure, reaching, always reaching for something not yet attainable.

“No, not yet,” he groaned and slid his fingers from me, their wetness trailing across my stomach. I trembled as he pulled me stretching me onto my back and lurched over me his long muscles rigid his cock hard, I reached out, and my hand caressed the length of his shaft then and cupped his throbbing cock in my hand. He was magnificent. I sucked in my breath as he grabbed by wrists pushing them up over my head spilling over the pillows. He growled as he moved down on me, stalking me like the predator he moved with liquid grace to rest between my thighs, his eyes never once diverting from mine. His breath was hot and fleshy against my face as he mercilessly drove into me. The tension in my body mounting, I began to move faster, more frantic against him, convulsed, by his cock pounding harder and harder into me.

“I am coming, come with me,” He muttered, his face bursting in exhalation as he erupted like hot lava inside me, seizing my body which surged with each wave of pleasure again and again until finally, our bodies quieted into a gentle all-over trembling.

“Am I too heavy for you?” Chris asked as he lay stretched out on my body his head balanced on my shoulder.

“It’s okay for a few minutes.” I purred and planted tiny kisses on his forehead. After a few minutes, Chris rolled off me, and we lay on our backs still and silent lost in the fervor of the last few days. Suddenly jerking me from my restfulness, Chris grabbed my face and forced me to look at him.

“I want you, here with me.” Unstirring, his eyes piercing he whispered. “I don’t want you with Cian anymore. I don’t like it. You know there is no other way. You have to leave him.”

“Let’s not talk about it now Chris, please. He is away for the next few days, and I am all yours.” While a thrill of pleasure coursed through me at his ferocity, his desire for me, there were still doubts clouding my thoughts. There were questions about the future that he and I needed to resolve. Questions he always deflected.
Both of us exhausted from the fervor of our intense yearning for each other; we fell asleep our bodies wrapped together perfectly as one.

Eventide Love #9/1 to be published on  Friday 19 Feb 2016.

Eventide: We are on the way with Eventide Love; blog to book. A factual fiction, political, psychological, erotic thriller set in Ireland 2011/2012.

If you would like to receive a book launch offer especially for all of you as loyal followers and fans, please register below. Your details will not be shared.

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