Wednesday, February 3, 2010

RAVENSWORTH Vof VI

Chapter One, Two, Three and Four my thanks to each of you for your continued support.

Louis-Jean-Francois Lagrenee's 'Mars and Venus an Allegory of Peace'

Chapter Five

His survey of her was far more exploratory and sensual.

He held her in an impassioned gaze that melted the sensible amber of her eyes to golden honey and pulled colour from her cheeks. Then he, with strong warm hands, took hold of her face, touching her unhurriedly, deliberate dragging his thumbs over her fair brows and plush coral lips.

Jaclyn’s skin burned with awareness, her lips sizzled with want where he touched and she licked at them in a futile attempt to stop the burn.

She was unable to breathe with him so close, looking at her as if she were water and he on fire. It had been there in his eyes this palpable yearning that gave her the impression that he was an inferno and it was all she could do not to toss herself as a willing sacrifice on his flame.

She was consumed by the heat of his touch and the erotic spice of his skin, an intoxicating mix of sharp musky clove, bruised rosemary and something else that was unique to him alone.

He was waiting for something, a sign from her and then she, in a sort of bated hush, said, “Eli.”

It was both question and plea – that seemed to say ‘what are you doing to me’ and ‘please, please don’t stop until you’ve put out this flame you’ve lit.’ It was precisely what he had been waiting for.

Eli could see she had wanted him as much as he wanted her but he did not want to proceed until she acknowledged it.

The instant she did, he kissed her and all else fell away, they were held suspended, synchronized, bound. They were at once fuel and flame, the heat and the burn, both set ablaze from the sweet friction of hot lips brushed against each other.

He was masterful connoisseur to her starving glut and he provided for her a feast unlike any she had ever partaken of before

They were wrapped tight in each other’s arms in an unbroken embrace, their hot ravenous lips and wet probing tongues, licking, sucking and feeding the other’s desire. When the intensity of the kiss threatened to turn in to something more Eli tried breaking the embrace only to discover she was not so willing.

He tried to coax her down with tiny kisses and gasping plea along the lines of: We should stop now, we could be discovered, take heart and have mercy, I can’t stand much more, but it was to no avail. She was undeterred and the truth was that he was only half committed to dissuading her.

He had wanted her too damn long to now pretend otherwise and when she offered those plush coral lips, her expression like that of a devout at the altar he took hungrily. His entire body an open nerve susceptible to her every touch… that and her growing demand was wreaking havoc on his control.

His body was tense and her malleable body pressed against his was as a blade to tightly drawn cords – violently severed, pulled to extreme and left open to her whims. They were enveloped in each other’s arms with their lips moulded together in one of those slow, purposefully arousing kisses that preceded things that no maiden, no matter how fallen or how close to her wedding day she was, should engage in.

She there, stretched along the length of his body, his right hand firmly on her bottom while grinding into her through the unyielding confines of their clothes. She discovered the pleasures to be had from the friction produced when rubbed against his erection and she writhed against him with wanton delight until he groaned into her mouth.

They’d have to stop.

Jaclyn knew this but was not interested in anything that would lead to Eli taking is hands and lips from her body so it was left to him. He mustered strength then lifted his lips from hers and waited a moment for her to regain focus then said, “We marry in the morning.”

“Yes, I know,” she said with a predatory grin and pressed her groin to his.

Eli took a sharp breath then said, “Jaclyn that was not said to feed your want but to encourage your restraint.”

Undeterred Jaclyn with hot lips over his face and her hands under his jacket said, “You’ve set me aflame Eli and I’ll surely die by the morning if you don’t help me extinguish it.”

“Stop that,” Eli pled as she dragged her nails over waistcoat, linen shirt and the muscular planes of his back. “That door is not locked and –”

“Is that all it would take?” she purred against his ears, “Me locking the door?”

“Have mercy on me sweetheart,” Eli begged, “I’m not able to bear much more.”

“Much more of what?” she asked innocently and dug her nails into his back.

“You play nice or –”

“Or what? You’ve already set me on fire and threatened to leave me burning until tomorrow,” she said miserably, and pulled her hands from his back, to his taut derriere and laid into him.

“You’re being unreasonable.”

“And you’re being cruel,” she shot back, her face suddenly very sad then she said. “Unless I’ve not affected you in the way you have done for me.”

“Oh, don’t you worry, sweetheart. I’m in just about as much agony as one can bear.”

“Then why don’t you…”

“Because what my body wants from yours will take time,” he said with gentle hand on her face but she would not be discouraged.

“How much time?”

“More time than we can stay locked up here without your father calling for pistols.”

“Come then and I shall steal you away to my chambers through the secret corridors,” she said her voice a hum as she press her lips against his ear, her greedy little hands roaming over the length of his back from bottom to sensitive scalp.

“Jaclyn?”

“Hmm,” was all she could manage for she was nibbling compliance from the tender flesh of his earlobes and suddenly he could not remember why he was protesting so much... She wanted him, he was beyond aroused and his poor little heart was beating a rapid tattoo against his chest in a futile attempt at regulating the flow of his desire.

She was relentless and he acquiesced.

“Here,” murmured Eli, his deep blue eyes aflame his hand on both side her face, “Tell me are you able to stop tormenting me long enough to see us to your bed?”

Jaclyn smiled triumphantly reached up pressed her lips to his then said, “Only just.”

She then stepped backwards pulling him as she went towards the fireplace and push with her hip the panel to the right and revealing a hidden passage. She walked into the darkness saying over her shoulder as she went, “Stay close for we will have to make it there in the dark.”

They hurried forward in a sort of anticipatory silence and emerged a few moments later in her dressing room where she, the night before, had tended his injury. She went ahead of him to her bedchamber kicking off her slippers and pulling out her hairpins en route to bolting the door leading from her chambers to the hallway.

She turned then, her face framed by golden tresses, her bosom rising under the weight of her want and he approached purposefully pulling off his jacket and waistcoat as he went. The frenzied urgency from before now replaced by something they brought with them from the cool darkness of the secret passage.

It was deliberate, charged and sexual. They were engaged now in a different sort of game, something where the anticipation – the holding back was as intense as the touch. He held just out her reach and undid his neck-cloth daring her to follow suit.

Jaclyn lifted a provocative brow, reached behind her back and tugged at the fasteners until her frock came undone then she leisurely pulled it down the length of her body to reveal a silky full-length shift. Eli breath caught as he absorbed the delight of a most powerful ocular orgasm.

He had never seen anything like it in all his life. It was the perfect marriage of garment and the female form.

The bleeding thing seemed to be created for the sole purpose of driving him out his mind. It was made out of a fabric that could only be described as whisper thin, spun gold. It clung to her at breast, hip and left nothing to the imagination. She was laughing at him.

“I take it you like Tessa’s invention,” Jaclyn said with a seductive hand over fabric and breast.

Eli took an involuntary step forward, she took a deliberate one backward and the wicked slip rippled over her feminine curves. It essentially melted Eli’s brain as he tried to decide whether he wanted to strip it from her body and bury his want in her flesh or to have her walk the length of the room so he could observe it and her from every angel.

“It’s skin soft,” Jaclyn offered as she dragged her hands lower. “Would you like to touch it?”
She had an expression on her face that said, ‘Look I’ve beat you at your own game…’ And he smiled back for he knew she would soon see her error then he said, “You, my dear, are an apt student but I can’t help but feel that I ought to caution you against arrogance.”

“Is that a no to fondling of the garment then?” she continued this time grabbing a handful of the slip so she could tug it up to expose her stockinged leg.

Eli chuckled, leaned against her bed and yanked off his boot his voice a raspy rumble saying, “No, no… come, let’s have a feel.”

His voice was layered with his intent and she shivered as she went forwards with wobbly knees. Then she was in his arms and everything after that was an excruciatingly persistent burn. Him peeling off the slip to feed on her body fondling her breasts full, ample and greedy for his touch, sucking at her nipples until they were engorged and tender.

She was made molten by his increasingly intimate exploration.

He lifted her onto the bed, peeling off her stockings licking and nibbling as he went, reducing her to nothing but an inarticulate hedonist. Her legs spread around his shoulders as he wickedly freed her of inhibitions with his lascivious tongue labouring between her thighs.

All she had been was no more. She was pillaged by pleasure, by this masterful god of sex and resurrected as a primal lustful creature good only for his touch. Her lungs were on fire as it rushed to keep up with the beating of her heart and the quickening of her flesh.

As he relentlessly lavished orgasm-inducing kisses to the little bud at the centre of her flower and she raised her hips as the pressure built to frenzy. Soon she was engulfed by a sort of madness that made her tug at his hair and dig her heels into his back and still he kept his slow methodically torturous pace.

Then she, her body pulled tight, all her focus on that spot just inside her where his tongue transformed new awareness into rapturous delight, was turned inside out. She spilt over raw and carnal her body drenched in sweat.

Eli held her until she regained equilibrium kissing her gently his mouth tasting of her his large warm hands soothing away the spasms and coaxing in her a new tension. His eyes dark with his own want was focussed on her face searching for sign she was ready and she with passion anew said, “Let me look at you Eli, so you may know your body the way you now know mine.”

He ripped off what remained of his clothes and Jaclyn traveled the length of his beautiful unyielding body with ravenous eye and hands pushing him backwards into the down of her pillows so she could do to him some of the things he had done to her.

Feasting upon his divine flesh, licking sharp rasping breaths from his nipples as his hard muscular chest jumping involuntary under her administration. Then licked lower over his rippling abdomen dipping her tongue in his navel causing him to growl.

It made her feel powerful to be able to bring this rumoured prince of pleasure to his knees and when she licked at his masculinity resting proudly against his belly she just about growl herself.

He gasped and thrust his hips upward, encouraging Jaclyn to explore further. She gripped his base, licking more vigorously at his hard, hot oh so silky against her tongue until he roared up and flipped her over onto her back. His voice ragged, as he said, “No more. I have to be inside you. Tell me you’re ready and can wait no more.”

“Come to me,” she said her voice every bit as crazed as his and he kissed her passionately.

Eli took her by inches, terrified that should he move too swiftly he would fall to pieces but she was so soft and so incredibly tight he could hardly stand it. Then he was at the barrier that made it impossible to continue without force and he felt her brace as he nudged against it.

She gasped, her lips at his ear, her words an ache as she pleaded with him to end her misery.

“Now Eli, please I can’t bear it.”

Her legs wrapped around his thighs and her arms anchored around hips pulling him forward until he was buried completely in her hot yielding body. Jaclyn’s breath caught at the pain, he held still his body shaking with want, dripping in sweat, and then she relaxed some around him.

Not enough – he was certain – for him to move forward but he could wait no longer and she was so soft and sweet. He pulled out some to thrust forth and she in something like panic rose up to his retreat then he gladly pressed her back into the bed. She sighed and then there was but surrender as they gave into the ebb and flow.

Their bodies, friction, force, thrust and increased momentum. Him, moulding her so she was good to no one else but him and she marking him as her own with nails that punctured the skin of his shoulder. Pain coils itself around pleasure until the two were indistinguishable.

Laboured breaths, muscle spasms, wet, welcoming to his hard mastery as he pushed her to the edge where she teeter until he reached down between them where he laboured and rubbed the nub that contained euphoria. Then she fell, hitting hard against whatever it was that was building insider her.

Her body shook violently from the impact as he plunged to his own end his body strained his bones melting and then he spilt his essence deep inside her. Jaclyn was weary and content, her eyes heavy with sleep as Eli bushed his lips over her face with whispered tender endearments.

What is it they say about Wednesday?
All my love,
Simone

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Unrequited Love, a Many Sordid Thing

.

None of the love songs apply to this strange love affaire. The lovelorn has yet to accept that the one she loves will not grow to love her in time. She stupidly wears her hair with the hope it will please this illusive stranger.

Her reflection becomes the center of her universe and like love ideal, it is her first thought of the day, her only genuine desire, her last prayer before she close her eyes.

She has denied herself chocolate and has long given up her smile.

Reducing her humanity to the gratuity, she has figured in to the cost of making herself presentable. A few extra dollars for the efficient women who remove unwanted hair, colour away natural roots, polish nails and rub tension from her body.

All with the hope of pleasing the one person who will never truly take pleasure in her and soon she hates as much as loves that imperfect unblinking stranger staring back from her mirror with something like sympathetic contempt in her eyes.

My love, my care,
Simone

Monday, February 1, 2010

More delicious than a Grammy Award

I was given the Happy 101 Award by the lovely Dawn, Claudia and Victoria. Thank you so very much ladies. You each have my gratitude and I encourage you all to stop by their charming blogs. They are all talented in their own right and I guarantee you’ll be glad you followed the link.

Claudia


Victoria


Here the rules for passing on this precious award :
1. Copy and paste the award on your blog.
2. List who gave the award to you and use a link to her blog (or hyperlink).
3. List 10 things that make you happy.
4. Pass the award on to other bloggers and visit their blogs to let them know!

Here now are the ten of the things that make me happy:


A comfortable silence with the one I hold dear, a compassionate thing done, talking until the sun rises, my sisters, MUSIC,getting caught in a summer downpour, tomatoes from my backyard, flowers, an expert massage from someone with strong warm hands and a good night’s sleep.

TravelingTasteBuds

Saturday, January 30, 2010

Getting the Regency Setting

Writing the setting use to be problematic for me because of my need to decorate each room to perfection, based on the style of the era but lately I’ve been inspired. The decorator in me wants to regale my readers with elements from the works of the master architects and the early interior designers so instead of filling my manuscript with tedious imagery from the works of Hepplewhite, Nash and Jones I’ve decided to post them here.


John Nash's Brighton Pavilion
The Blue Room at Carlton House

More of Carlton House

Luigi Premazzi

Luigi Premazzi






A lovely weekend to all,
Simone.

Thursday, January 28, 2010

RAVENSWORTH Chapter IV of VI


For chapters 1, 2 and 3 simply click on the number.


I believe this is one of Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres's
Chapter Four

Eli was back at the Stuart’s in St James Square at ten the following morning and despite the unsuitability of the hour, he was immediately granted an audience with the distraught Baron.

“Lillian has been here,” the old man said once he and Eli were seated in his library, “And she was without remorse.”

“It matters not, for I’ve come to ask for Jaclyn’s hand,” Eli said with kind assurance.

“It’s more than I could have hoped for her and I thank you for it. Not many in your position would have granted one that had fallen as far as she such a turn.”

“I could hardly do less after the way she protected me,” Eli said in earnest. “She will always have a friend in me.”

“It’s been so long since I’ve heard someone outside our family speak well of her,” Lord Stuart said with sad eyes. “It’s all so fragile, isn’t it? And yet we take so much of it for granted.”

“That’s all behind her now,” Eli vowed.

“Thank you nonetheless, Ravensworth,” Lord Stuart said with offered hand and barely contained emotion.

Eli took his hand then the two parted ways. Eli stepped into the hallway where he was accosted by a pale, drawn Jaclyn, “I wonder if you could grant me a moment?” she asked.

He followed her to a little salon at the back of the house where she hurriedly shut the door before offering him a chair and taking the one directly across from his.

“Lillian has been here.”

“Yes, I know.”

“I was not permitted to see her but my mother said she admitted to her part in it so there is no reason for you to feel obligated, you see.”

“Did she also tell you that my Cousin Brian and Charlotte were the masterminds behind it?”

“No,” she said incredulously, “But then that cannot be for Charlotte loves and considers you a friend.”

“No, my dear. Her father loves my fortune whilst she loves my pretty and disloyal cousin.”

“And now she has ruined our reputations in order to marry where she pleases?”

“Yes, it appears so.”

“Surely you can’t mean you don’t know?”

“My only source thus far has been Brian and though I have lost all faith in him I saw the truth of it the instant he confessed.”

“But that simply will not do. You must go to Charlotte at once so you may have her side in this.”

“You and I will wed in the morning and I’ll endeavour always to be, for you, a good husband,” Eli said with patience over her clear denial.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“There is nothing else but for you to make your peace with this friend.”

“Don’t call me that,” Jaclyn charged, “For you haven’t the slightest idea what friendship entails. I’m here attempting to see you well and you’re keeping vital, possibly injurious, information from me.”

“See now, that’s where you’re wrong,” Eli said with calm. “All I do now is to spare you hurt.”

“If it’s all the same I’d rather have the truth.”

“All right,” he said with heavy sigh and measured pause before repeating all Brian told him.

“With child?”

“Yes.”

“And you do not want her explanation?”

“How long have you known Charlotte?”

“Nearly fifteen years.”

“And in all that time have you ever known her to take an uncalculated risk?”

“No, but I also don’t know her to be callous and unfeeling.”

“Jaclyn listen to me,” Eli said with steady sure voice, “We have been deceived by some of our dearest and no offered solace will justify it.”

“Are you very heartbroken?”

“I’m not able the feel much beyond my outrage at current.”

“I think you and I ought to go see her.”

“What’s the matter with you?”

“Here, mine is the natural reaction,” Jaclyn said defensively. “For heaven’s sake, you’re sitting there offering me marriage with your heart devastated. Surely, you see how troublesome that is?”

“Truth to tell, I’m more disappointed in my friend than devastated at the betrayal and as for the rest we must marry, for your family’s sake as well as mine.”

“You’re kind to say so but we both know that is far from the truth,” she said with a miserable smile. “You’re a young, handsome, wealthy duke and not even a scandal involving the bed of some long disgraced maiden will change that overmuch.”

“Perhaps, but you did save my life –”

“Barely that.”

“Yes, that. And since you did you are now responsible for me.”

“That hardly seems fair.”

“What has fairness to do with anything? We are friends, you and I,” Eli said with conspiratorial grin.

“Scarcely that –”

“Here there is enough of that. I trust you Jaclyn and with my title and fortune there are not many I’m able to. Besides, you think I’m handsome.”

“Oh, this is lovely. I’m here racked with guilt over you having to marry me and you’re laughing at me.”

“Just so you know going forth,” he said suddenly serious. “If we are to be happily married you are going to have to suspend your remorse at our beginning. In fact, starting now I want our foundation to be about something other than their manipulation and our acceptance.”

“All right, have you a suggestion as to what that ought to be?”

“Friendship is as good a place to begin as any I suppose.”

“There is irony in that I think for without what they did we wouldn’t have this trust to which we now cling.”

“What’s the matter with you?” demanded an incredulous Eli.

“There is nothing wrong with me. I just don’t want us deluding ourselves into believing something that isn’t. We know nothing of each other and can’t rightly call what we share friendship when all it is, is a shared wound.”
“You’re not an optimist are you?”

“Not in matters where I stand to lose so much,” she said with measure before surprising them both with a frank admittance. “There was a moment last night after I came to see you when I wondered what it would be like to be your wife and…”

“Go on tell me,” he prompted.

“It’s been so very long since I’ve allowed myself to even entertain the ideal of marriage let along with one so far out my grasp.”

He said nothing to this. He simply reached out his hand, palm up as an offered invitation for her to take hold. She understood right away and placed her hand in his. It was such a simple thing and yet it meant everything to her. He enveloped her hand in his, all warm and strong then he said, “Well within your grasp.”

“You are the kindest man,” she said with a damp eyed smile.

“Does that mean you’ll have me?”

“There is no one I would rather marry, but –”

“Brilliant,” he said with a smile all his own, “For I already procured the license and assured your father I would.”

“Please your grace –”

“Worth or Eli if you prefer,” he interjected once more.

“Eli,” she repeated indulgently. “I feel you ought to know precisely the sort of social ruin marrying me could bring about for you and any children we may have.”

“Because of the portrait you mean?”

“Yes, the fallout was tremendous and still persists.”

“It won’t once you are my Duchess,” he said with reassuring squeeze to her hand, “So now say you’ll marry me?”

“I’ll marry you.”

“Good? Now tell me where did you learn to paint like that?”

“Charlotte told you I painted it?”

“No, it was Brian.”

“I see,” she said with something like disappointment at Charlotte for having betrayed her confidence before answering his question. “I learned most everything from my mother and grandfather. She taught me watercolours and he oils but you shouldn’t worry I’ll bring shame to you for I’ve given it up.”

“You have?”

“Yes, I have in fact nothing remains of that period in my life except the damage done to my

reputation,” she assured him. “Not one canvas, paintbrush or drawing it’s all gone.”

“Not all.”

“You kept it?”

“I couldn’t bring myself to destroy it.”

“How did you come by it?

“I bought it at an open market in Kent,” he said almost apologetically. “I was struck by the honesty of your expression and wondered how a girl so very young could appear so knowledgeable. I’ve looked at it a thousand times and besides the obvious beauty of the subject there is an intangible that I’ve not, until now, been able to place…”

“Won’t you tell me what it is?”

“Light. It radiates from you and you captured it perfectly in your portrait.”

“It’s strange you should say so for after nearly five years of no drawing late nights, I put pencil to paper in an attempt to capture your light but was unable to.”

She stood then and took a few steps towards him as if in a trance, her eyes unblinking and discerning as she looked at his face from one angle then the next.

“I kept getting it wrong,” she said with scrutinizing fingers over his brow, “I thought if I could make a study of you. Learn the placement of your shadows and strip away your layers.”

She held his face cradled in both her hands upturned to her dissection. Fair Eli, with his strawberry-blond hair thick and wavy cut short in the style of a Roman Emperor, his eyes so dark blue they almost read as violet. He had a wide brow, aquiline nose and full soft lips that stood at odds with the hard lines of his chin, jaw and cheek.

His face was made up of brilliant contrasts worry lines at brow and forehead, laugh lines marking the corner of his eyes while a genuine intensity filled their depths. Jaclyn ran her fingers over the lines at his forehead and wondered for the first time what it was he had to worry about.

Eli could see the question in her eyes and was curious to know what on his face had so fascinated her and asked, “What do you see?”

“A good open face that presents well to the world but also holds more than it reveals All that and it’s beautifully symmetrical. You, my grace, are a very beautiful man,” she said candidly.

“Thank you, Jaclyn,” he said his face serene and unsmiling.

She now finished with her inspection let go of his face with every intention of returning to her seat, when he in one decisive move stood up. Eliminating the space between them and successfully turning the moment into something else entirely with a simple, “My turn.”


Take my care and love when you go,
Simone.

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Three More from the list of 100 Women Who has Influenced Me

This time the designers who inspired me when I was a decorator and has stay with me now I'm attempting a career as an author.

Edith Wharton is a personal hero of mine and not only because she is a decorator and writer but because she was brilliant at both. She won the Pulitzer Prize in 1921 for here novel The Age of Innocence and was the first woman to be awarded the prize. Her The Decoration of Houses, a manual of interior design was written with architect Ogden Codman and is until today a must read for all decorators. Read more about Edith here.


In 1902 she built The Mount, her estate in Lenox, Massachusetts, which survives today as an example of her design principles.

***


Nancy Lancaster, a native of Virginia who moved to England in 1926, She was instrumental in creating what is popularly known as the English-country look. This school of interior decoration is characterized by sun-bleached chintz, vibrant wall colors, a casual mix of furniture from various historical periods and an atmosphere of disheveled coziness. John Fowler, Mrs. Lancaster's partner in the London design firm of Colefax & Fowler, called it "pleasing decay."


Nancy Lancaster, Lady Tree said this of decorating a house 'It is usually a mistake to impose an individual's taste on a room that has its own....style. Conversely, to put very fine pieces of furniture in a room that is without architectural distinction is as absurd as wearing a tiara with a bathing suit.' She is worth knowing more about and you are able to learn some here or in Martin Wood's book Nancy Lancaster: English Country House Style.

***

Elsie de Wolfe, Lady Mendl, American interior designer, hostess, and actress. Ella Anderson de Wolfe was born in New York City on Dec. 20, 1865, and was educated in Edinburgh. She began her social career in New York and acted in amateur theatricals for fund-raising. As a professional actress from 1890 to 1905, she specialized in supporting roles.

De Wolfe took up a career in interior design at the suggestion of her friends Elisabeth Marbury and Sara Cooper Hewitt. Her first commission was the Stanford White-designed Colony Club in New York. De Wolfe’s foremost design principles were simplicity, airiness (utilizing mirrors and light hues of paint and fabric), and visual rather than stylistic unity. She helped change the fashion of interior design. She wrote the book ’The House in Good Taste’ (1913) and was a noted hostess. De Wolfe spent much of her life in France, remaining there during World War I to nurse soldiers, for which service she received the Croix de Guerre. In 1926 she married Sir Charles Mendl. She died in Versailles, France, on July 12, 1950. Read more about the brilliant Lady Mendl here at Architectural Digest Architects & Designers Design Legends.
January is near its end, how fares your New Years resolutions?
My love, my care,
Simone

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

A Sort of Pulitzer for Bloggers

I was given the Superior Scribbler Award by the lovely Jenny. Thank you every so much my dear, it truly mean a lot coming from such a avid reader and decerning reviewer.

Here are the rules :
■ Each Superior Scribbler must in turn pass The Award on to 5 most-deserving Bloggy Friends.
■ Each Superior Scribbler must link to the author & the name of the blog from whom he/she has received The Award.
■ Each Superior Scribbler must display The Award on his/her blog, and link to This Post, which explains The Award.
■ Each Blogger who wins The Superior Scribbler Award must visit this post and add his/her name to the Mr. Linky List. That way, we’ll be able to keep up-to-date on everyone who receives This Prestigious Honor!
■ Each Superior Scribbler must post these rules on his/her blog.

Here are my nominees:

Krista Ashe


Fireblossom
Arabella

Nevine

***
A lovely new award from Corra. Thank you so very much my dear, your support is invaluable and I appreciate it more than you'll every know.

Corra here in her own words about the award she as created:

There is such an amazing collection of talent out there, and I know I've only just begun to meet people. I'm pleased and honored to talk with you all and collaborate about the journey to publication. (Or simply to learn from you, as many of you are far beyond me in that journey.)

Please accept the 'Creative Writer Award' with no strings attached. You can post it within an awards page, sidebar, or new post; you can link it to me and pass it on to writers you know who host writing blogs, or you can simply read this note with my thanks attached and do nothing further. This is just intended as a gesture to further the premise 'writer' within 'blogger.' I'd love to see more writers acknowledged for the craft! Because we all are writers:

I've chosen these five authors pass this award to.