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Quote by Shantel Tessier

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In this thought-provoking narrative, the story delves into complex human emotions and moral dilemmas, offering a profound look at the nature of atonement and the cost of forgiveness. more

Author

Shantel Tessier

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“You have a new message from Big Daddy Dick.” The voice goes on to read the text out loud. “Quit fucking ignoring me, woman! I’m going to give you until midnight, and if you have not responded to me by then, I will show up at your house, knock down your door, and tie you to your bed. I’ll fuck that sweet cunt in ways you didn’t even know were possible while my belt is wrapped around your neck. Then when I’ve had enough of that pussy, I’ll move on to that smart-ass mouth of yours because we both know how much you love choking on my cock. Lastly, I will bend you over my knee with your hands tied behind your back and spank your ass until it’s black and blue before I pin you to the floor and fuck it as well. You won’t be able to walk for a week, let alone sit down. And that’s a goddamn promise!” A silence follows before Emilee begins to whistle. “Damn. Maybe you should get some lingerie for him while we’re shopping today. Give him something to rip off before he has his way with you.” “A restraining order sounds more appropriate,” April jokes with a laugh. Jasmine just smiles, reaching over and presses ignore to the text, and the music once again fills the car. “Are you going to respond to that?” I ask wide-eyed. “Nope.” She gives me a quick glance and winks. “A man is only as good as his word.”

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Book:Bones
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“Once established, jasmine grows well in this garden, and there are three, no, four varieties now. A soft yellow, like clotted cream, that hangs loosely from the window boxes, shifting in the breeze. A pink variety, Jasminum stephanense, clambers up the brittle, naked stems of a much older plant, using its relative as a trellis. White stars of Jasminum grandiflorum cover the tendrils that have woven a canopy over the courtyard, a fragrant white parasol whose petals fall like snowflakes each autumn.”

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Book:A Thousand Feasts: Small Moments of Joy… A Memoir of Sorts
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“False moonlight bathed the greenhouse in a pale blue light. At the peak of the cupola, an imitation moon was cradled in a web of glittering strands. Swirls of sparkling cloud drifted through on a breath of impossible wind. The flowers were a deep blue, black, and gray--- the colors of a garden at night. Even their leaves were a dark gray. Starlike sparkles drifted up from the blossoms, as if the flowers were breathing out stardust. It smelled like jasmine.”

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Book:The Enchanted Greenhouse
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“Iris pssp-pssped and Chéri's marmalade head popped up in slow-blinking wakefulness from a large wicker basket on the living room floor. She found them both curled up inside, Chéri, the orange tabby boy, and Jasmine, a deaf white female, still asleep, the two of them forming a Creamsicle yin and yang. Jasmine felt her brother's movement, and soon both were yawning and stretching, emerging from the basket like pulled taffy.”

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Book:Full Bloom
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