Millie 90 lbs of Dynamite: Blog

What to say about the Black Puma, what to say indeed. Retired tennis pro turned superheroine. The Black Puma is a creature of darkness stalking the criminal element in their natural domain. Some end up dead. Others are turned over for the police to find, complete with incriminating evidence. Still, others she marked in a vicious, permanent manner. They are marked to tell the boss of bosses Puma's coming for him, and when she gets him, there will be no court, no trial, and no mercy.

Former tennis pro, Shawanda Jones, leads a double life. By day, she is the retired former Grand Slam champion. At night, she becomes the Black Puma, a masked vigilante fighting crime in 'The City's' worst cesspool, 'Shabby Heights.' The sexy, exotic beauty targets crime boss, Jason Greggs and his organization brings a series of reprisals against her. In the midst of this epic battle, Shawanda Jones juggles her complicated personal life. Her new love interest, Lacey Barton, complicates matters. Even worse, Lacey's a journalist who suspects her lover might be Black Puma.

New Chapters will be posted every Thursday until were done. There are six parts. Come along for the ride. When you're finished - let me know what you think...Give it a read here.

I haven't fallen off the edge of the world. I'm alive and well in Oklahoma.

I haven't had much luck getting time to write, and when I have found the time to write, I haven't had much success in doing anything worth putting up for you all to read. Other factors have played into the thing, but they are of a personal nature concerning my adoptive family. I may share those events at some point but not right now.

Pop's (adoptive father) and I have started working on an outline for a story. A fanfiction story in the Star Trek Universe. So far, just outlining has proved time-consuming. I'm not sure how long a story it will be, but Dad and I have the start of quite a tale. SciFi isn't something either one of us has worked in that much, so we want it to be good. At the moment he isn't able to work on the thing, holidays you know are busy times at movie theaters.

In the meantime, I reviewed a few faltering starts I had this past few months to see if I can work through one of them and make a better story out it. One of them is also SciFi, I have done a few of them in the past, but have never been all that happy with the end results.

I just haven't published anything for such a long time I am worried you will assume I have died, become gravely ill, or just abandoned writing altogether. I realize there are those that would believe me quitting writing to be a good thing, and maybe those die-hard critics of mine are right. But I haven't, at least not yet.

It is my goal to publish something before the end of the year. I can do this if work cooperates with me, if my wife and I don't have too many spats, (yes for those of you that don't realize it, women can and do marry women) and if nothing bad happens in or to the extended family.

On a sad note, we must consider options for our beloved cat and his needs. I think we will need to do something by the end of the year to release him from his suffering, which becomes more apparent with each passing week. Looks like surgery might be on the table for Capin' Tom. We want to give him a few more years. The other option is unthinkable for Jo, but in the end, we are going to have to let the Vet guide us on this.

Okay enough of my belling aching, I need to get back to work and hope I can write tonight.

All the best to all of you who are the absolute best!

Millie

How's everyone's hump day? Hey I have a plan for the weekend. Maybe, if all the stars line up, the ducks get in their row, and my fickle muse doesn't go on vacation, I might get some writing done.

Jo and I swung down and surprised Pop's on Sunday. We had cake for our birthdays' that Jo and mom got. We had a big birthday meal, all day early, and just had a good visit. Then Jo and went back to the City and went dancing.

I got an atta-girl at the Monday morning supervisors' breakfast, for a couple of case closings last week. In the squad room, I had a big cake waiting for me, from my crew (which at this point was probably mostly Nyssa's efforts). We settled into our work for the week. The first two days were less hectic than the last two weeks. I'm hoping for another day, or even three, this week of quiet. The morning has been mild so far. Nothing new has come our way and just shifted some investigators around to give a few going on 14 days without days off, they seemed to appreciate it that.

I'm sure we will have some new work soon, and everyone will be back in the field. If not, the fugitive recovery will be a little less grueling for my people. I'm not changing those on active investigations, or anyone working on the less glamorous life of a philandering spouse. I have people on paper and internet investigations, and one guy's working on background checks. I'm betting he could use a break from that.

All the slow down notwithstanding, I still haven't managed to write the past several weeks. I'm not alone, Pop's isn't writing either. We plan a lock-in on Saturday & Sunday, we will work on our individual stories in his office both days. That is the plan, it may or may not happen.

Well, this is a workday, even with it slow, I should do some of my work.

How's everybody out there? Are you writers writing, and the readers reading?

The following Poem is from a time in my life of deep depression. I wrote it when I was on the verge of suicide, I was 15 at the time and lost my first lover (another girl that worked the streets with me) I had a great deal of trouble moving on from this setback in my life. It seem long enough or appropriate for a story entry.

The Ending

Alone in my room, I ponder
the meaning of life
With a constant wonder
endless yearnings stab like knife
The silence is broken by the thunder
That insistently rings in my ears
The throbbing of eternity rings as my life falls asunder
with each relentless beating of broken heart, I feel the fears
The one-way passage of one moment
to the next pounds in my chest
As my life slips away, I feel deaths encroachments
With each awful beat, I lose my zest
Life flows from me wetting the bedsheets
with each useless beating of my broken heart
more of me flows away as life retreats
Oh, my lovely lover, my sweetheart
How long, I wonder, how long is there left
How many more beats for me to ponder my sweetheart
How long to remember and be bereft
How much time does it take to bleed the life from my body
Soon, soon it shall pass, yes, so deft
Broken hearted I wait for the end for me to disembody
Soon my spirit will no longer be left
My mind is no longer content
My ending is nigh
My life is now spent
To you, I say goodbye
Now are you sorry
My life lost all for you, aye
Really, are you even sorry

There have been big changes for me at work. I got a promotion. I'm now a supervisor and no longer just an investigator. I didn't want the promotion, it was suggested I not turn it down, that it wouldn't be good for my long-term viability with the company.

I'm eating lunch in my office right now as I type this update for y'all. A sandwich from subway. It has too much mustard on it, and I can't, for the life of me, figure out how they get light on mayo right and not on mustard. I have been meeting with new investigators, fugitive recovery, and personal security personnel that are now under my supervision. The four to ten number exploded yesterday doubling what they told me I would have by the end of the year.

It appears one of the other supervisors got himself fired. A 'with cause' firing and so far, I'm not privy to the details. They reassigned his men and women to other supervisors, and I got all new hires for the last two months assigned to me. I am now in charge of twenty-two people, well twenty-four if count my executive assistant and my, in the field, assistant (Nyssa).

Holy shit, this just keeps getting better, NOT!

On the good side, neither Nyssa or Jo (my wife) are upset about any of this. I'm glad they aren't. My Dad says to hang it there, it'll get better. Rulan, my direct supervisor says the same thing. I doubt it myself. They still say I will be allowed to help on some investigations in field after everything settles down and Nyssa can assist more on supervision when I do investigations.

You know that sounds good, the hickey on that plan, Nyssa is my partner, or was. We work together, as a team. That is especially true on investigations. Then again, if I don't get a good handle on being a boss, I may never get to do the other again, or maybe they'll bust me back to just a normal PI. The company is changing, it got bigger here like overnight, or I became aware of how big we are overnight.

That said, I don't have to work at night any longer. I can leave between 4:00 and 5:00 and be home when Jo rolls into the place every night. The cat is all better again. He is at home, sitting on his Capin perch just beside the aquarium, staring at the fish worrying them.

Dad's coming in to visit me at work this afternoon. I'm looking forward to that, it will be so nice to introduce him to everyone, those that I work for, and those that work for me. We can sit in my office for a few minutes, share a cup of coffee, and he will tell me how proud he is of me. I know he will, he always goes out of his way to let me know how proud he is of me, and he loves me. Maybe being a boss will be worth it just because he is pleased I am. He would tell me he wants me to be happy, but I think I most happy when I make him, mom, and Jo proud of me, or make them happy.

I have at least two dozen stories I have started but never finished. Some are long stories, maybe very long stories, that I stopped working for one reason or another. Others are completed, but I'm not happy with them. Still, others, are just beginnings, or maybe halfway finished. I need only to pick one and finish it, then move to the next one. I still get new ideas all the time or get request from fans. I have one of those right now, another cuckold story, which I'm not that fond of reading or writing.

Well, I need to finish this roast beef sub and get back to it. Ah, the old salt mine can wear on you. It gets in your throat, you can't wash the taste of work out of your mouth. Problem is, all I do for the last week is work on other people's problems. Read their reports, make suggestions, and make sure they aren't loafing whey they should be doing whatever they are supposed to be doing. I have a stack of files on my desk, several fugitive recoveries, a couple of investigations, one missing person, and one personal security request. Now I have to figure out who gets what.

The issue is, the personal security is only for 16 hours a day. Which means one partner gets the day, one the swing, and from midnight to eight am no one on the job. I don't like that dead eight hours sitting out there. But, that is what they want. They live in a gated community, so there is that. Well, I need to take care of this, I must make assignments and figure out the start dates on them.

I'm hoping i get more time write at night as I'm home at decent hour now every day and have my weekends free.