Hello! Thank you for visiting my brand SPANKING new blog! I just wanted to take the opportunity to introduce myself and give you a sneak peek of my newest work-in-progress, Judge's Chambers: Due Process Short Story
My name is Baylee Crush, a pen name developed so that my family can continue believing I'm the virginal, wholesome girl-next-door that I personified growing up. As a newly turned 30-year-old (gosh, I feel old), I feel it is my responsibility to share my innermost dirty thoughts with the world. Why? I don't know. Maybe I'm just twisted like that. Anywho, feel free to check out my Meat Market Series as well as my two-part series, Test Drive: Part One and Two.
SNEAK PEEK!
Judge's Chambers: Due Process Short Story
Ugh. Will this witness ever shut up? Damn, he's been droning on and on for over an hour now. Jeez, it's a divorce, not a capital murder case, asshole!
Alright, so some might say my attitude could use a little adjustment.
Okay, maybe a lot of adjustment. I firmly contend that it's not my fault,
though. Seriously, I've been a court reporter for the Honorable James C. Wilson for a little over three months now and all he ever does is ride my ass. I can't seem to do anything right.
I can almost hear his honey-laced voice scolding me now. "Miss Davis, there are too many discrepancies in this transcription …You didn't format this like I like …Are you even paying attention?"
Sheesh. This shit is harder than it looks. Honestly, I don't even know
why he hired me. When I interviewed, he was so cold and distant, grunting an occasional 'hmm' or 'huh' while I discussed my credentials. I had to knock the ice chips off of my black pencil skirt just to peel myself from his chambers.
So why did I take the job? Well, that's simple. I needed the money, bad. As a new graduate, I didn't exactly have swarms of potential employers knocking down my door to hire me, so when the county's human resources manager called me up and offered it, I figured they were desperate.
I had been seeking independence since I'd turned twenty-two last fall and this job was just the ticket. I had finally saved enough money so that I could move out of my dad's house, start pulling my own weight, and get my own apartment. My mom left when I was six-years-old and when he found a new wife last summer, I'd felt like such a burden. I wanted to move out of his house and let him live his own life. He deserved to be happy without me tagging along and mooching off of him.
My name is Baylee Crush, a pen name developed so that my family can continue believing I'm the virginal, wholesome girl-next-door that I personified growing up. As a newly turned 30-year-old (gosh, I feel old), I feel it is my responsibility to share my innermost dirty thoughts with the world. Why? I don't know. Maybe I'm just twisted like that. Anywho, feel free to check out my Meat Market Series as well as my two-part series, Test Drive: Part One and Two.
SNEAK PEEK!
Judge's Chambers: Due Process Short Story
Ugh. Will this witness ever shut up? Damn, he's been droning on and on for over an hour now. Jeez, it's a divorce, not a capital murder case, asshole!
Alright, so some might say my attitude could use a little adjustment.
Okay, maybe a lot of adjustment. I firmly contend that it's not my fault,
though. Seriously, I've been a court reporter for the Honorable James C. Wilson for a little over three months now and all he ever does is ride my ass. I can't seem to do anything right.
I can almost hear his honey-laced voice scolding me now. "Miss Davis, there are too many discrepancies in this transcription …You didn't format this like I like …Are you even paying attention?"
Sheesh. This shit is harder than it looks. Honestly, I don't even know
why he hired me. When I interviewed, he was so cold and distant, grunting an occasional 'hmm' or 'huh' while I discussed my credentials. I had to knock the ice chips off of my black pencil skirt just to peel myself from his chambers.
So why did I take the job? Well, that's simple. I needed the money, bad. As a new graduate, I didn't exactly have swarms of potential employers knocking down my door to hire me, so when the county's human resources manager called me up and offered it, I figured they were desperate.
I had been seeking independence since I'd turned twenty-two last fall and this job was just the ticket. I had finally saved enough money so that I could move out of my dad's house, start pulling my own weight, and get my own apartment. My mom left when I was six-years-old and when he found a new wife last summer, I'd felt like such a burden. I wanted to move out of his house and let him live his own life. He deserved to be happy without me tagging along and mooching off of him.