A Taste of Haven, The Alexander book series #1

A Taste of Haven smashwords

Haven Smith is a shifter who has never shifted. Her mother warned her that if she gave into the animal part of herself she would turn into a beast capable of killing. Instead she’s able to push down the need to turn by spending her evenings protecting women and children from the men who would hurt them. She likes her solitary life just fine, until one night she meets a man who changes her world forever.
Haven discovers a family she didn’t know she had and that Adam’s been sent to bring her home. She’s been alone for so long and Adam is a temptation she’s ready to taste. All Adam wants is that there is more to the world then endless fighting in the streets. He wants her to experience the love of family and make her understand that she isn’t a freak or evil and that she deserves everyone’s love most of all, his love.
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Chapter One

Haven Smith stopped in front of a tall red brick tenement and peered around the corner, the barely audible mew of fear still echoing in her ears. There was a little light coming from a sickly yellow bulb near the top of the roof, but it didn’t extend to the lower part of the building. Her exceptional night vision allowed her to see what others might not, like the trash spilling over from large bins next to the Mexican restaurant opposite the low-income apartment building.
Her spine began to tingle as her wolf clamored for release.
Sorry girl, you don’t get to come out—ever.
She didn’t want to be here tonight, her body hadn’t quite healed from the last fight three days ago. But the scent of fear and blood hung in the air, calling to her and making it impossible to leave.
Another muffled cry sounded in the darkness. Keeping her back to the wall, she slipped around the corner and followed the pitiful noise on cat’s feet. She stepped in a puddle of unidentifiable nastiness she wouldn’t allow her nose to name and winced. She’d just bought the Rockports. Dammit!
Slipping behind the nearest dumpster allowed her to see what was going on while hiding her from anyone’s view. At the alleys dead-end a man had a woman pinned against the brick façade, her face smashed against the wall. He’d wrapped one beefy hand around her throat while his other ripped at her dress.
The woman’s cries were cut off by the fucker’s grip on her neck. Lightning-hot anger speared Haven’s stomach and she pulled her switchblade as if by instinct. With a quick flick of her wrist the six-inch blade came to life in her hand. The familiar weight of the weapon was always welcome. She crept from behind the dumpster and made her way to the would-be rapist and his victim. Her first instinct was to snap his neck, but that would be illegal. She might want to kill the bastard but she wouldn’t. This time!
Instead she threw her arm around his throat, catching him off guard. He was no match for her and even with his girth Haven was stronger… She scraped the blade along the side of his neck and he immediately let go of the female.
“Go get the police,” Haven snarled as the woman spun, clutching her throat.
Haven immediately recognized her platinum blonde hair and sunken blue eyes—it was Honey. She’d tried to get the woman out of the “trade” and into a shelter more than once—and failed. The woman pulled at her tor clothes and took off toward the front of the alley; there was no way Honey was going to flag down a cop.
Knowing that made her even angrier. Her mother had been steps away from the same kind of life until she died, rolling through man after man in a vain search for someone to take care of her and her daughter. Honey had just gone further down the rabbit hole, and Haven had made it her business to avenge these women from assholes like the one beneath her knife.
“You need to learn a lesson about trying to take what you haven’t paid for.” A low menacing rumble escaped her throat. Fuck!
“Fuck you, bitch. The only reason you’re still alive is because you got a knife to my throat.” Oh yeah, he wanted to hurt her; the stink of a madman dripped from his pores, but she really didn’t give a damn.
“You’re right. We can’t have a fair fight if I’m armed. So I’ll put my knife away and then I’m going to kick your ass.” She closed the knife on her hip, slipped it into her pocket and stepped back.
The asshole spun around. His fleshy face was covered in sweat, and he resembled a washed-out wrestler who’d taken too many steroids. His mouth curled up on one side and formed a snarl. He was Haven’s favorite type of jerk-off—big and burly, going around hurting any woman he pleased. She might have been too young to intercede for her mother but she was making up for it now.
He brought his fists up, readying himself for the fight.
She put her hands on her hips, like she had all the time in the world, and laughed. “Come on, fat boy, let’s see what you got.”
He cracked his knuckles. “You got it, bitch.”
He threw out one massive fist, putting all his weight behind the punch. Haven ducked and he sailed right past her. She turned, kicked and connected between his shoulder blades, but he didn’t go down. She frowned and ran at his back, kicking him in the side this time. She heard the crack of ribs through the padding of fat layering his middle. She wanted to end this quickly, but her inner beast was only getting started.
Her nostrils flared as the smell of real fear rent the air. He’d never expected her to kick so damn hard. She grabbed his thick wrist and spun him around to face her. He recovered more quickly from her kick than she expected and managed to clock her in the jaw. The left side of her face went numb from the blow and this time she let out a howl that caused the man’s eyes to widen and back away.
“What’s the matter, big boy? Scared of a little woman like me?” Haven knew questioning his manhood was the easiest way to antagonize him into continuing the fight. “I thought bad-assed men like you got off beating up a girl. God knows you couldn’t handle yourself with a real man.”
He grabbed his crotch. “Dumb bitch, I’m gonna show you what a real man is after I bust your ass.” Haven dropped into a crouch and beckoned him in a come-hither motion. “Bring it on, then. You hit like a girl.”
He moved fast for a fat slob, but not fast enough. He swung again. She stepped aside and he connected with nothing but air. She stuck her foot out as he lunged past and tripped him. Caught up by her foot, his body turned slightly.
The position gave him the advantage, and as he started to fall he grabbed her arm and hauled her down with him.
Haven’s back slammed into the rough pavement, knocking the air from her lungs. She was pissed beyond belief that she’d let him take her down. Asshole landed on top of her, taking what little breath she had left with him. He straddled her upper chest, pinning her arms at her sides, and smiled. “It’s your turn to bleed now, whore.”
She desperately tried to breathe; he was literally smothering her with his weight. He swung his hand and slapped her hard across the mouth.
“Someone needs to show you how to be more respectful.” Sweat dripped off his forehead, the disgusting droplets falling on her chin.
“Fuck you.” She spat, and blood mixed with saliva landed on his face. He raised his hand again and punched her in the nose. Blood squirted out, dribbling into her mouth and down the sides of her face.
A fire burned in her belly as she swallowed some of her own blood. The burning became more painful, spreading from her middle and out to her limbs. Her head started buzzing and the only thing running through it was kill, kill, kill.
With renewed strength, she bent her knees up and bucked him off. Rolling to her knees, she wiped the blood trickling from her nose across her sleeve.
“That’s all you got?” she snarled. “You’re a pussy.”
She watched him carefully, waiting for his muscles to tense. She held her closed hands to her chest. She never felt as alive as she did when she fought one of these bastards. Her senses were sharper, she could see better, her hearing was astonishingly acute. She inhaled when the breeze shifted slightly.
The asshole’s fear wrapped around him like a fur coat. He wanted to run, but his ego wouldn’t allow a woman kick his ass.
He lunged for her again, his heavy body moving a little slower this time. When he reached for her she threw out an arm, blocking his attack and smashed him in the nose with her free hand. He doubled over as blood spurted. Haven followed up with a quick jab to the chin. His head flew back a precious second before she kicked and connected with his balls.
He wasn’t going to get laid for a long time to come. Big boy went to his knees, cupping his crotch. He looked at her and spit. Haven kicked him in the throat in a coup de grace that kept him from crying out for help. He fell on his back with a hard thunk, little sobs coming rending the air as he cupped his balls.
Haven leaned over him and grabbed the shoulder of his dirty wife-beater tank top. “Don’t you ever fucking come back around here again-fat man. Next time you won’t be walking away from this alley.”
She let go of his shirt, and he fell back to the ground. Turning away from the heap he made on the ground, she jogged out of the alley and onto the empty street. Honey hadn’t called the cops, but she hadn’t expected the longtime hooker to go to the police. Honey’d been picked up so many times on prostitution charges she no longer trusted the police to help her. Haven would track her down later and try—once again—to get her away from her pimp and into Fatima’s shelter. She swiped at her bloody nose as she made her way back to her apartment.
Her face was already swelling. The blood flow from her nose trickled slowly but hadn’t stopped; she wasn’t healing as quickly as she used to. The beast inside rumbled its disapproval at her current state of pain.
She picked up the pace, not wanting to draw any attention. She needed to get the dirt, grime and stink from the asshole off her skin.
As she trotted down the sidewalk, the smell of pine and rain floated on the air. The scent was so out of place it brought her to a standstill. She inhaled deeply, enjoying the cleanliness of it. She turned around slowly, trying to find the source of the scent, but saw nothing on the empty streets. And as quickly as it had come, the smell was gone. Haven shook her head, sure she was imagining things.
* * * * *

She forced her sore, tired body back to her tiny apartment. The first-floor studio wasn’t much, but it was home. She unlocked the door and turned on the light, bathing the room in a soft, soothing light. She sat down in an overstuffed chair she’d picked up at a resale shop, her body sinking back against the worn fabric.
She was bone tired. It was getting harder to take a punch. She sighed. For a split second back in the alley she’d been afraid. The feeling had been fleeting, but for the first time since she’d begun her crusade she’d really been scared. The knotting sensation in her stomach wasn’t something she wanted to experience again.
Her nose had finally stopped bleeding so she peeled her t-shirt over her head, wiped her face and threw the shirt into the laundry basket placed squarely in the corner of the room.
She heaved her tired body out of the chair and walked grabbing a bottle of Labatt’s out of the fridge. Twisting the cap off the bottle, she took a long gulp. The cold liquid slid down and soothed her parched throat. She held the sweating bottle against her swelling eye.
Damn, she couldn’t believe the jerk-off had gotten in as many punches as he had. It was obvious her body was letting her know it needed to rest. That had to be it, didn’t it?
For some reason, the image of her mother was particularly vivid tonight, and with her at the worst possible moments. Like right now. The parade of men who’d traipsed through her life when she was growing up was never far from her mind. They were the reason she trolled for bad guys out to harm women.
In response to the memories, adrenaline pumped through her veins and her wolf demanded release.
She broke into a sweat as the beast scrambled to escape, howling in anger. Haven tried desperately to ignore her but failed as her mother’s dire warnings tolled in her head.
Shifting is evil. You’ll go crazy. Crazier than your father.
“Fuck. Why now?” She should have known better than let her mind wander through the past. Her wolf was a bitter bitch and it was getting harder and harder to control her. “You’re not getting out, so shut the hell up.”
Talking never worked, so she changed strategies and reached for her blade. The only way to keep the animal at bay was pain. The pain she felt now had come from the fight earlier. This called for a different kind of pain. Chills ran down her spine and her body started to shake as she battled for dominance. She snapped open the knife with a flick of her wrist, held her arm over the sink, placed the tip of the blade to the crook of her arm and made a one-inch slice. The pain served as a balm to the wolf at the door. She made a second and then a third cut. The pressure inside her eased. The last one finally slowed her heart rate and her breathing began to normalize. The anger slowly drained from her body and calm washed over her.
She hated doing this to herself, but it was the only way that didn’t involve drugs or a barrel full of alcohol. It was her one shameful weakness.
With the adrenaline rush gone, she grew even wearier. She moved to the only other room in her home, the bathroom, stripped off the rest of her clothing and turned on the shower.
She stepped beneath the spray, and the freezing temperature woke her enough to remind her that she was still covered in blood and alley grime. She focused on the bottom of the tub where blood and dirt circled the drain. When the last traces of grime disappeared in a swirl, she finally felt clean. She turned the hot water on and let the heat soak into her tired muscles.
After warming up under the heated water, she stepped out. Wrapping a soft white towel around her, she looked in the mirror. Her left eye already had a bruise and another was forming on her right. She opened the medicine cabinet and retrieved antiseptic and some pain pills. Dabbing at the cut across the bridge of her nose and another on her bottom lip, she winced at the slight sting. Hell, she could take a punch to the face and never make a sound, but wanted to cry as she cleaned the wound. The irony of it never ceased to amaze her. Patch job complete, she filled a glass with water then tossed back two pain pills. She needed to get horizontal since she’d be dead to the world in less than fifteen minutes.
Thank God for pharmaceuticals she thought, staggering to the bedroom. Dropping the towel on the floor, she peeled back the blanket and crept between it and the sheet. Grabbing the pillow next to her, she turned on her side, holding it to her stomach. It was the way she went to sleep most nights, and normally comforted her, but tonight was different.
Tonight, for the first time in a long time, Haven was lonely. It was the kind of lonely that left a knot in her stomach and an ache in her soul. Maybe it was because she was turning thirty and had no one to celebrate with. Maybe she just needed to get laid. Whatever the reasons, her melancholy would have to wait for another day.
Just as her lids began to droop and the magic little pills made a dent in her pain, the phone beside her bed rang. She blindly reached for the offensive thing and picked it up before it rang again.
“Hello.” Her voice cracked.
“Haven you sound like hell.” Fatima, the one person in the world she trusted. “Have you been out again?”
Fatima was the only one who knew about Haven’s nightly activities. The Lebanese-born woman understood her vigilante romps.
“Yeah, but I don’t have anyone for you this evening.”
Normally when she stepped into a situation where a woman was being abused, she would take the victim to Fatima’s shelter. Her friend’s sanctuary wasn’t known to social services. She was able to work outside the law when it came to housing battered women and children. Fatima was able help women disappear from the reach of their abusers.
“I understand. One of Donovan’s men brought in a woman and her three kids tonight.” Her friend sounded as tired as Haven felt.
Donovan was Fatima’s mysterious benefactor. He provided money and the building for her work. Haven never questioned Fatima about Donovan and her friend never offered any information. No skin off Haven’s nose. Whatever went on between the two allowed Fatima to save and care for hundreds of women and children who might otherwise be dead.
“Do you need anything?” She knew the answer before she even asked it. Another reason she loved Fatima.
“No thanks, I’ve got everything under control. Get some sleep. We’ll talk soon.” Fatima ended the call. They never said goodbye. Fatima thought it was bad luck.
She turned over to her other side, closed her eyes as the pain pills kicked in and allowed sleep to take over.

Giving Thanks-Year in Review

With Thanksgiving tomorrow, I wanted to give thanks for what I have and what I’ve learned in my life.

I’m thankful for my family. My parents, my brother, and cousins are such an important part of my life. No matter what has happened in the past, we will always be there for each other, no matter what.

My husband, who is the strongest man I know. My three kids.They have grown into such great teenagers and I am very lucky to have them. They love me and support me. My boys like to think they’re my body guards…lol…but no one screws with their mom. Things haven’t always been so peaceful and happy but we’re all happy now and that counts for a lot.

My friends. 30 years together, of sharing life’s experiences, both good and bad. Growing old together like we always said we would. I’m lucky to still have my friends from high school in my life.

My writing partner VJ Summers. Though we haven’t written anything in a while (serious family drama for both of us) without you I wouldn’t be published.

My readers- Thank you for spending your hard-earned money to buy what I read. I know it’s been a long time since I’ve put anything out, but the time off was necessary as I was really trying to work out a lot of personal stuff. I’m back to writing daily and as soon as I don’t hate everything I’m writing 🙂 I’ll have something new.

I’m thankful for the lessons that I’ve been given this year- though I sure as hell could have done without them. I learned to find happiness in what I have instead of whining about what I want. Hey, I’ll never live in a big house- my kids will all be in college in 4 years so there’s no point in going bigger. I’ll never have the latest and greatest thing that comes along. I don’t even own a big screen t.v. I want to be satisfied with myself, not try and make myself feel better by acquiring stuff.

I’m thankful that Karma is off bothering someone else. That whole what goes around comes around thing has slithered away and I don’t want to see the bitch again. I’ve pad for my mistakes, tenfold so I hope we’re even.

I’m thankful for learning that just because some says you don’t cut it, doesn’t make it true. And saying that to someone else is even worse because it only invites bad Karma bitch. I’m thankful for learning that I don’t want my life to be the subject of someone else’s life. I don’t want the blame for anyone else’s unhappiness or regret.

I’ve tried to wake up everyday and treat it as though nothing happened the day before. I’ve taken my health more seriously. Doing the things that make me happy and remembering that life is very, very short, not to be happy.

I wish all of you a Happy Thanksgiving and happiness this holiday season.

Sierra

Music day!!!!

We’re having some bizarre weather in Michigan. 50 today and down to 31 tomorrow. I’m not surprised, this is Michigan but I wouldn’t have it any other way. I feel so bad for anyone living along the Northern and Southern East coast. Since climate deniers are still trying to downplay climate change, the east coast is getting some of the most FUBAR weather and it’s going to shape up to be another stellar winter for them. Cold from North to South and who knows how much snow will fall. I hope those of you who live in what a lot of people think is the weather hell mouth…LOL…(The Entire Eastern Seaboard), take care this season. Hopefully it won’t rise to the stuff you all had last winter.

Random music today. For no particular reason except that I like these songs. Okay let me take that back. The one from Shinedown is totally because I find Bret’s big, beautiful and bare eyes intoxicating. I’m so glad we fashioned Magnus Crowe ( Longfellow Seduced) after him. Magnus is the perfect Scottish Highland, Vampire, Rock god of my dreams.

Enjoy and Bang…Bang…Ladies…

Sunday morning refelections

It’s 8 in the morning and I’ve been a busy girl. The entire house is swept, dusted, vacuumed, mopped and 2 loads of laundry are done. The rest of my day is going to be all o writing and the Lion’s football game.

Okay don’t bang on my Lion’s. I’m a loyal Detroit sports fan and will remain that way until I die. I’ve stuck with this football team since I was 5 and yes I drink the koolaid every season, believing that one day they will pull it out. This season has been a great one for them so far and I’ve enjoyed all the games. Though my kids HATE when I watch it. They scatter as I yell at the television.

But I digress…

My kids are teenagers now and don’t require or even want my attention. Wow, I’ve waited for this for a long time. The fighting, the teasing, the whining are for the most part in the past and I feel an indescribable sense of freedom in that. Don’t get me wrong. I LOVE my kids more than anything but they’ll all be out of the house and in college in four years. Just in time for the big 50.

Of course mom will always be here for them and to welcome them home. I could never retire out west (though I’ve threatened to on more than one occasion.) because I simply could not be near my kids. I was raised that your blood is everything and you do whatever you have to do to maintain the line. Besides I couldn’t live with myself if I wasn’t around to welcome them home if they needed me. To call me if they were in trouble and to come to the rescue when they needed me. And soon enough I’ll have the joy to watch them in adulthood and carve out a life for themselves but they will always know that I’m staying where I am. They will never feel as though I’ve abandoned them even if we are having difficulties. I want to see them fall in love, get that great new job and be at the hospital to hold my grandchildren. This is truly the best time in mine and their lives. It doesn’t matter when difficult times come because my love and support for them never waivers and will never end.  You can never recapture the moments you miss, the tears you’re not there to wipe away, to share their heartbreak and their greatest joys. I’m lucky to be surrounded by my kids and I know I have no regrets because they come above all the bullshit in life.

I dedicate Simple Kind of Man for my kids. This is a special song for me and my oldest son. Every time we see Shinedown together when this song is played we hug each other and sing as loud as we can. It’s going to be the mother/son dance at his wedding. Which better damn well not be for at least 10 years….lol..

Remember people those kids you don’t acknowledge, who you’ve ignored or pushed out of your life carry your DNA. A part of you will live within them and in their children’s children. It’s a gift, never to be taken for granted…EVER. Those that really love you will never ask you to leave them or live without them. Don’t make the mistakes of so many people who are caught up in the moment and make decisions that will eat at you until the day you die. Nothing and no one can replace those babies you held at birth, that you got up to feed at 3 a.m. and who depended and loved you because you were mom and dad. Who clung to you when they were sick and scared and who you see yourself in when they look back at you. I’ve known people who do give up, find replacements and just don’t fight for their kids anymore. I feel so sad for them because they miss out on a part of themselves. And parents who make it difficult for the other parent to have a close relationship with their kids, SHAME ON YOU, you’re no better than the one who abandoned them.

Enjoy you’re legacy in this world, show some strength and never let them go and never leave them .

Stress!!!!!!!!!!!

We all feel it, especially around holiday time. There are those years where you look up and say WTF and wonder how you landed into the middle of windstorm, surrounded in family drama.

Wed. I set a surgery date for my youngest. He’s upset that he won’t be able to do Winter Percussion at the school.

Thurs. My father has been sick with bronchitis, he’s 74 and even though he’s in awesome shape it’s still harder for them to fight off an infection. So he asked me to take my mom to the Orthopedist. My mom had knee replacement surgery 2 years ago and hasn’t recovered. after numerous falls in her home and several trips to the emergency room we finally found a Dr. to give us a second opinion.Sure enough he told us that her knee wasn’t put in well and that it needed to be redone. So she went ahead with the surgery at the end of Sept and into rehabilitation center and had been progressing really well. She was getting ready to move onto walking with a cane when she wakes up one morning and her patella has shifted again (the original problem with the first surgery.)

I pick her up and get her in the car. It takes some time as she can’t stand up on her own and can barely move one foot. Tuck away we drive to the office and sure enough she needs a 3rd surgery. I know, a lot of people would say screw that but in our case my mom has to be able to get around her house without help. She’s over weight and so helping her up is difficult. Their house is small and not wheelchair accessible and it wouldn’t fit any of the equipment I would need to care for her full-time. I get her back to the rehab place and they tell me my mom is being released the following day.” Really? I asked and then told them that she can’t even stand. What do you think I should do?” This is foreign territory for me. I spoke with her case worker and he gave me a list of the paperwork he needed to get medicaid for my mom. If she needed 24 hour care we are going to have to put her in a place she can get it and they aren’t cheap.

I go to my parents house and my dad and I begin the search for all the paperwork. We only needed some bank statements and had to wait until the next day. Easy enough right? Ha…not even close. 12:50 a.m. I get a panicked call from my brother. Mom fell at rehab and they think she may have had a stroke. Holy fuck!!!

I haul ass to the hospital and made it up before my brother. All her tests came back clear. No stroke-though she’s really out of it. They decide to keep her. Sigh of relief. Only because it buys us more time to figure out what we may need to do. I leave the hospital at 5:30 a.m and go home to get my kids up for school. The brats…it takes forever  to get them up. Oh I know what you’re thinking-Don’t wake them up. They’ll learn fast and get themselves up. Okay, I tried that with my older kid, didn’t work. He was late to school everyday for over a week.

Make breakfast, nag the kids until the roll out of bed. I get them off to school and come home, hoping to get a few hours sleep. But no- it sounded like a solid plan to me- except I couldn’t close my eyes. Again WTF?

My dad picks me up a few hours later and we head to the bank, stop for some really suckey breakfast. Head up to the rehab place and meet with Travis the caseworker. He brings me home and I go pick up the boys from school. My daughter will be another hour because she had something to do afterschool.

Okay, so here is the really fun part. I drop the boys off at home. My oldest has to be at work at 2:45, but my daughter needs to be picked up at 3:10. I let my oldest take my car and my dad and I went and got my daughter. We dropped her off at home (my hubby isn’t blowing me off-he’s been at work all day and hasn’t gotten home) and head up to the hospital. Visit with mom and finally I’m back home around 8 p.m. No sleep, hungry and ready to take a flight to Jamaica, I crash and didn’t wait up until 6:00 a.m. Sat  morning.

Disaster under control for now. Oh and my husbands uncle passed suddenly and he’s been making travel plans up north. A nice 4 and a half hour drive when its nice. But in the north in Michigan they get hammered and had been during the week. On Tuesday when he plans to return home, they are supposed to now have snow showers.

Three days with very little sleep and a hell of a lot of worry and today I feel good. In the past I would have been a wreck but this time I’m dealing with it so much better. I’m grateful for the peace that I’ve been able to find in my life. It’s been a long time since I’ve been this content and I’m definitely taking advantage of it and navigate through the chaos during the holidays.

Music kind of day!

It’s been a couple of odd weeks. With a very sick mother and the impending surgery for my son, I’ve tried to keep my stress levels down. But the oddest thing happened. I was called a whore. I’m not even sure who it was exactly but I can only they are on the same page. It’s either payback, envy, insecurity, or whatever label you want to put on it. Within the message of course is a cutting remark about my writing ability. A little extra dig with the knife. As little as 3 months ago, I would have been shattered. I’ve been concentrating on all the good things in my world and I’ve stopped being angry at the world. I think the biggest reason for such an attack has absolutely nothing to do with me and a lot more to do with trouble in their own lives. I’ve made myself a great target in the past and I understand when your life is not what you thought it would be, it’s easy to take your unhappiness out on  someone else. Whatever the reasons, their desired outcome to hurt/insult me didn’t really work. I didn’t cry, crawl into a ball and slip into some type of depression. I don’t want to retaliate, because I’ve learned that some things just aren’t worth it.

On the plus side, I’ve finished a book. That little dig was the catalyst that pushed me to finish the last part of my story. Despite what others may think is no longer hurtful to me. I am trying to rise above the B.S. in life and find my real happiness.

I’ve been listening to a lot of pop music, which I normally don’t do and Katie Perry has been on my music list more and more. Her videos are bright and fun and make you want to dance around the house.

 

Those Dirty, Dirty Blonde’s

images  We’ve all read books featuring the tall, dark and handsome hero. It’s been drilled into us since we were children. The knight that would come and sweep us off our feet and make the world a beautiful place. Don’t get me wrong, I do enjoy tall, dark and handsome.

I thought for a nice change of pace, I’d put up a dedication to those dirty blondes that make us go crazy. Whether died or natural, there’s nothing better than a scruffy, blonde. My best and sweetest relationships have always been with blondes. I think it’s because I’m the opposite of them with dark brown hair and darker brown eyes. I even tried to be blonde a few times and it just wasn’t me, plus keeping up the dye job was too much.

So for your viewing pleasure here are a few of the hottest men in the world. I threw in a ginger because I’m sort partial to them.

Enjoy,

Sierra

Blonde 1Blonde 2BradimagesCHarlieJensenMartinPaulRedVikings