Courtney B. Jones's Blog

On Thursday night,
Nathan and I ended up in my room.  We
were supposed to be studying, but the moment my door shut I pounced.  I flung my arms around his neck and
practically crawled up his body.  I
couldn’t help it. I wanted him.  In that
moment it overruled the fear and the voice telling me to run, to push him away,
and to end this thing before I got hurt.


Nathan’s
lips were on mine

 

Sad


 The anger was red and explosive


It churned in my gut


Was liquid fire in my veins


Twisting my grief like gnarled
snakes


A bullet that ripped me open


Leaving me with a bleeding heart


An open wound, torn and festering


Full of regret and bitterness


And hate


But when it burned away


Like smoke and ash



It left just the sadness in its
wake




 

This sudden pressure in my chest

Is too much to take



I try I try I try



To blink the tears away



But I can’t forget




How you died that day


 
I shut my eyes



I clench my fist



I beg I beg I beg



God to take it away



But I can’t stop wishing


You were here today




 


 

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Heat
It’s a quiet fire




Silent and invisible


Except for the embers that smolder in your gaze


The subtle curve of your lips


That ignites a fire in my gut


Spreading an inferno of heat


Your touch


Simple and sweet


Dances along my skin


Creating sparks of electricity


Fanning our flame

Excerpt from The Corollaria (Chapter 10):

 

 

“Luke,” she nervously
whispered into the darkness. He raised his head from the pillows, looking at
her over his shoulder. His eyes slowly took in her nervous hands, her long
exposed legs and the way she was worrying her bottom lip.


Luke gulped. He should
tell her to leave.


Instead, he rolled to
his side, and held out his arms.  She
sunk down

Excerpt from my NEW book The Corollaria:





There
was an ache. A gnawing, raw, festering ache that burned in her belly. Her head
pounded, her limbs were sore and heavy. Emily laid prone, face first in a pile
of pillows on what felt like a soft plush bed. She ran her fingertips over the
smooth cool unfamiliar silk of bed linens. 
She slowly began to drift more into consciousness. Panic and fear

Chapter 9


Two weeks
later, Josh showed up at mine and Trisha’s apartment at one in the morning.
She’d answered, and I had been in the kitchen when he’d come inside.


“Rach,” he
said to my back. I’d stiffened. In the weeks since I’d met Jake, I’d barely
thought about Josh. And I wasn’t sure what to even say now. “Can we talk?”


I swallowed
and turned to face him. He looked different. His

Chapter 8


The next
day, standing in the early morning light outside my apartment, Jake held my
face in his hands and kissed me until I felt like he’d stolen all the breath
from lungs, until my lips tingled and I threaded my fingers through his soft
thick hair.


It was the second
time I had to say goodbye to him.


With his
warm strong hands still on my face and his fingers in my hair

Chapter 7


Three days
later I had just gotten a soda from the vending machine in my office building
and was just returning to my office when my phone beeped with an incoming text
message from Jake. My heart fluttered.


Are you busy Friday night?


I scrunched
my face up and looked at the small calendar on my desk as I slid into my chair before
replying.


Today is Friday.         


Only