Jason Rimbaud

I don't fully understand everything myself. But if you look at the "task?" bar, under help, is FAQ's that helped me tremendously. There is a bunch of info there.

Thanks! I know it's one of my more sedate stories, mostly narrative-driven with little action. But I have a soft spot in my heart for this story.

December 11th, 2017 Central Park Tower New York City, New York “Justin Atwood,” Mrs. Winterbourne said with a thoughtful expression. “That would make his friend, Courtney Williams.” “How did you know that?” “My niece watches that show all the time. It still is extremely popular in reruns,” She explained as she tapped her cheek with one finger. “I thought I recognized Justin from the photo, but I wasn’t sure until you said the name.” “Then you know how big a celebrity he w

I don't get tanned. I don't go in the sun long enough to get burned. And my skin is the color of milk, so I am really pale. I often joke my legs haven't seen sunshine in forty years. I even swim only at night. Though I'm bald and I dont want those ugly sun spots when I'm older. If I casually meet someone disabled, such as in my restaurant, I do ask if there is anything I might be able to do or adjust to make it easier for them. I let them dictate what help they might require. But I am not a curious person by nature, and I probably don't care what happened to them so I would never ask. My main concern, is there anything I can do to help? If not, then I'll go about my day without thinking of that disability again. If you are my friend, and I do have a great friend who lost his foot in a motorcycle accident, I probably would tease you mercilessly. I kind of take my friends where they are at, the rest doesn't matter as long as you are a good person who doesn't cause me drama. I have another friend who can no longer walk due to lots of back injuries. When I am around her, I know what makes things easier for her, so I automatically adjust my behavior to compensate and make her feel included. Though I have been known to drag her along to certain places where her wheelchair gets me access to shorter wait times. . She's one of my best friends since I was in my twenties.

If you are the master of the SA Contest, and you make all the rules, how can anything you do be cheating? Asking for a friend.

For what's it worth, I actually sat down and wrote this the other day. I am trying to figure out a way to marry the second and third books together. I don't know when or even if that is going to happen. But I am trying to reason it out. So I guess there is still hope. Scott Nevison glanced nervously at his watch as he paced back and forth across the hotel room floor. He tugged at his suit, the expensive fabric felt foreign as he took a drag from a half-smoked Marlboro. The chubby man was not a hands-on type of guy. He preferred to be the man behind the scenes. Happily allowing Gabriel to assume the risks of working in the field. He needed the safety of anonymity. He relished the idea that he was mostly a ghost. He paced the room back and forth and grew more annoyed with each passing moment. His contact was already thirty minutes late, and with each passing moment, he would let loose a string of curses directed at his employer, Gabriel Foster, for roping him into this mess. If he only knew where Gabriel was currently. He always felt better having the man close in case of emergencies. He would give a good portion of his fortune to see Gabriel’s stupid face. He’d give the rest to be out of Washington, D.C., period. He hated this town. With all its political bullshit and constant maneuvering for power and money. Greed he could understand. He had stayed with Gabriel all these years for the millions of dollars tucked safely away in numerous accounts worldwide. But those who played in D.C, cared more about the power than the money. The money was just a way to keep score, a secondary benefit to those who tried to shape the world. And the person he was meeting tonight was one of the most powerful men in the world. A man who played the Washington game better than anyone in recent memory. In the year and a half since that incident in Hershey, Pennsylvania, they had scoured the world looking for Mehment. But each lead just sent them down the next blind alley. But hopefully, after tonight’s meeting, they’d actually get some actionable intel on the elusive Broker’s whereabouts. He lit another cigarette with the stub in his hand and looked at his watch again. Gabriel owed him for making him come to this cesspool of a town. Once this was all over, he deserved a nice vacation, preferably a place with a tropical beach where he could buy love for an hour at a time and forget about everything for a while. A knock on the door interrupted his musing. With a quickness that would surprise most people, a 9mm appeared in his hand. He walked over to the door and peered out the security hole. Even though he was expecting who would be on the other side, he was still taken aback. Just because he was the spitting image of Gabriel didn’t stop him from putting the barrel of the gun against the door before he called out, “Yes.” A deep, raspy voice replied confidently, “I’m here about the drapes.” Scott opened the door and stared at the man for a moment. “I knew you were twins, but wow.” Special Agent Timothy Cain grinned. “Hi, Scott. Nice to actually meet you.” Scott motioned for the man to enter. “Last time we met, you shoved a syringe in my neck.” Timothy chuckled as he walked inside the room. He couldn’t help but notice Timothy entered an unknown room exactly like his brother, his body tense and ready for anything. Timothy quickly walked through the suite, and then, once he was satisfied, returned to Scott. The two men stared at one another for a long moment before Scott blurted, “What do you want?”

Maybe Andy can finally have his food enjoyed. He seems to have wasted a lot of his time cooking for Greg. Let’s see how Justin handles himself now that his secret is out.

This is not one of those stories chris. No sexytime, no perverted things like my other works. This is a wholesome tale about good boys.

That is kind of what I was going for.

My poems are snapshots of my life at that time. I've always been good at writing what I am feeling/going through in the moment. Most I don't share, but there are times when I can't help myself.

That should be the end....it normally comes in three's. Dolly, Tim, and now Optimist Prime Death, go ahead and take a break. We're good for now.

Nope, He goes home and we never see him again. Maybe in another when. There are 20 chapters written, and for the time being , I haven't changed many things, so 20. But who knows, I always seem to add more for some reason when I'm feeling frisky. Well, so far, two of these characters have been in Tyler's Dilemma, and who knows who else might make an appearance from say, Gabriel's Gambit. And Greg was mentioned in Frosted Hearts as the owner of NenTek Technologies who bought Blake's mineral finding tech. So its a good bet, that you'll get more from all these characters. Any Glacier Bay Story that is not part of the Christmas stories, are connected and telling one giant story in reverse.

Atwood...Atsoft...really Mr. The Paul? You mean the one where Mrs. Winterbourne helps save the company? Maybe in part to Greg's suggestion.

Wednesday, August 6th, 1997 1101 Davis Way, Douglas Frienz Island Glacier Bay Greg Winters woke rather late the next morning with a pounding head and a mouth that could’ve been used for sandpaper. They had finished off a bottle of bourbon and about half of another before he crawled into bed sometime after midnight. He barely remembered Andy leaving. He hoped the man had arranged for a ride. He threw off the covers and walked into the bathroom to empty his bladder. He splashe

I was a confused, depressed boy back in the late 90's. I had to leave home due to a similar set of circumstances, no doubt why I wrote it. But I never had to live on the streets. But I was very upset back then. Trying to find a reason for how this could happen to me. And my brother wasn't a superhero; he fell in line with the rest of the family.