Officer Johnson

Premise to a Future Story

4:15 AM

The almost inaudible sound of the night, at the verge of almost ending, fills the house softly as the breeze filters through the windows. Early-rising crickets and birds flutter outside in the greenery as Officer Johnson sleeps placidly. His silky bed sheets kindly caress his hard, ripped body as he numbly shift from side to side in expectation; after all his well-trained physique knows the hour to get up is close. Then suddenly, the soft melody of the alarm, an instrumental version of the ‘Bittersweet Symphony,’ plays from the other side of the room. Officer Johnson would always leave his alarm clock just far enough from bed to have him actually get up to turn it off. He knew well how to play against temptation, and he liked to play hard.

The routine, his routine, would go like this: Officer Johnson would get up from bed lazily and zombie-walked towards the music to shut it off. He’d drink sixteen ounces of room-temperature water, from a bottle that waited on him since the previous night, and he would chug it down slowly to activate his internal organs while replenishing the lost hydration after nine consecutive hours of sleep. Then he would go towards the bathroom, where he would ~discharge~ while looking at a classical painting print on the wall next to the toilet. The one he’d recently hanged, one of his favorites, was a peaceful piece from an European painter. It depicted a scene were a group of young ladies were bathing in a pond, looking like gorgeous nymphs, which reminded him the importance of hygiene and good appearance. After flushing his fluids (or solids), Johnson would proceed to brush his teeth with a fluoride-free toothpaste and rinse his mouth a minty-fresh mouthwash to finish.

Right after that, Johnson would go to the balcony, still wearing nothing but the boxers on which he slept, and he would proceed to do his yoga stretching routine. Many years ago, while he lived on a different state, one of his neighbors would come out and sit on her balcony chair to look at him during his work-outs. At first it had been weird, but the lady had been open enough to tell him to his face: “Yes, I am staring at you. So what?” when he confronted her.

Her husband, a veteran called David, had found it all quite amusing. “That’s okay, son. With those arms, I’d also look at you” he admitted to Johnson, one afternoon over a couple of beers at the sidewalk in front of their houses.

Officer Johnson had felt extremely confused at the comment. “Doesn’t it bother you? To have her stare at other men so freely?” he asked. Growing up at a conservative family had been both a challenge and a blessing, but having such free-spirited people was surely a shock for anyone on their right mind.

Not really” David replied calmly. “Men like you are the reason why I get to have fun several times a week” he said with a thundering laugh.

Now, since he had no houses close enough to have anybody supervise his workout, Johnson had to confess that he missed the lady. Mrs. Parker would bake him a pie, a demonically delicious pie, in exchange of him burning all those calories in plain sight. The agreement had never been carved on stone, or even officially spoken, but somehow they’d managed to get to it down and dirty. Several years, and a drastic change on his dietary habits, had passed since the very last time he ate one of those sinful pies. Nowadays, Officer Johnson felt confident enough to say he didn’t needed sugar any longer.

As soon as his first twenty-minute routine was due, and thick drops of sweat would slide down the ridges of his body, Johnson would walk to the shower and bathe himself in a fruit-based shower gel and scrub his whole big self to eliminate impurities. He would proceed to apply organic-based moisturizing lotions on his body and face, but on the lather only after washing off a deep cleansing masque -made with sea salt and collagen- that he’d wear for five whole minutes.

He would proceed cook the breakfast he’d been eating for only God knows how long, but he would never grow tired of eating: toasty side-up eggs, zucchini, spinach, tomatoes and peppers fried on coconut oil, with some bacon on the side and a cup of sugarless coffee. Sometimes there were days when he wanted to misbehave, and then he would add avocado to the veggies. Of course that wasn’t really misbehaving, it was just eating a little bit more than usual… What a rebel he could be!

And finally, after cleaning the messy kitchen and making the bed, officer Johnson would jump on his skin-tight, ready-for-running police uniform and would head out into the misty morning, to jog his way to the station and begin his day as a proud member of the Paleo Police. “Watch out, you processed bullshit” he said as he put on his mirror-like sunglasses. “I’m gonna kick your teeth in.”

*I’m not saying I’ll get to work with Dwayne Johnson to film this anytime soon…but you never know what’s for me in the future right? Expect plenty of scenes of him shirtless if it does happens. 

#putmeinprayerplease

XO,

Idaline

Freebie!

As some of you already know, a few weeks ago, I published my first book Amazon and just today it’s completely of charge!!

It’s called Tomahawks and Tembleque, a love story between a stubborn Caribbean inmigrant and a determined Native American.

It would be amazing if you could leave a little feedback or reviews when you’re done. Please and thank you!

Happy reading!!

XO, 

Idaline ❤

Green means GO!

**EXCERPT**

Abigail didn’t stop moving until she realized she got to a street she’d never, ever been to. For a moment she even forgot she wasn’t in Puerto Rico anymore. Her hometown Guaynabo, a place she knew well, was far away and only then she remembered she had no idea how to get back to the hotel or to at least the street she originally came from. “Uuugh! 😦 What was the darn name?!” Abigail stopped in front of a cute French-looking coffee shop, with white wire decorations and pots with many colorful flowers, to lament her stupidity while backtracking her way back to the Four Points on her GPS. With soundless steps and a very powerful presence, she felt a figure stop to stand right in front of her. A normal person would have looked up, but Abigail wasn’t known as abby_normal7191 on VampireFreaks.com for nothing! ‘Stupid, stupid’ she told herself as she kept her eyes focused on the cellphone. Google Maps! Amazon! Weather?! Show me anything!

“Hey” he said.

Poor Abigail face-palm her mind’s face so hard her nose would have bled if it had been in real life, and decided to bury her attention even deeper on the cell’s screen. “Hola” she answered in Spanish softly, after clearing her throat. She began looking up front with caution and noticed a few details of his clothes she’d failed to see before. Cut-out black jeans, old stained biker boots and a Ramones white t-shirt with a leather jacket. ‘OMG! He’s punk!<3’ Abigail bit her lip and swallowed slowly. Her heartbeats felt so hard on her chest, she could have sworn he might be able to hear it clearly.

“If… you think I’m really cute, why you are ignoring me?” He asked as he began to side step and hunt down her eyes from all possible angles. Back when he was in high school he would have used his hand to softly caress her face and have her look up at him. How much girls had liked that! But that was then. And this is now.

“I am not ignoring you” she said, turning off the cell and putting it back on her pocket. She could only runaway so far, so Abigail looked up and forgot her entire life for a moment. Name? Roberta. Age? Legal. SSN? PFFFT! Sex? Yes, please! She admired in detail his beautiful facial structure in deep, corny silence. Yes, he had long and perfect black hair, loose and natural behind his ears. Dark and deep eyes, almost as dark as the hair; several piercings in both ears, including plugs, and the twin snake bites in his lower lip.Chiseled features, straight out of a Western movie… #sosexy “I was uhm… answering a text.”

“Hmm…right.” He looked down and then back up again, with the cutest side smile on his face that Abigail had ever seen on a living person. 

He had a weird, strong accent she’d never heard, sort of like coffee with too little milk. But of course, she’d never spoken with a Native American before and the truth is you should NEVER let yourself be guided by Hollywood movies. This guy didn’t look like Maguas a tall, but more like an even hotter version of Uncas. Maybe even the bad-ass baby brother of Mani. ‘Oh, yeah :)’ His t-shirt was a perfect fit with his body, not too loose but tight enough for her to notice he seemingly had a strong chest and a good shoulder line. #alabáloquevive “Can I, ahem, help you?” she asked with a fake sense of confidence, after a long silence. Not that she was annoyed by that, they were having a cute exchange of smiles and stares and he hadn’t made a sigh to be annoyed by that either.#suspicious

They found themselves at an apparent insidious situation… Abigail, the lost tourist. And Oz, the kindly local Native.

(…)

“Would you like to have some…?” he began inclining his head to the side. His hands were in his pockets, a rare gesture that could be easily confused with flirting. But she wasn’t gonna let him play around,he noticed almost instantly when…

“What?”she asked before he finished, with a bit more attitude than needed.Her eyebrows hardened a tad and her shy smile left her face for a second or two. 

He raised his arms in surrender and laughed. “Coffee. There” he pointed at the French coffee shop behind them, just a few steps away.

He continued smiling, as if making fun of her but not offensively.Abigail blushed a bit and scratched the back of her head lightly. “Sorry.

“Why?”he asked. He stuck his tongue out at her and she noticed he also had a piercing there.

Oh, Lordy! “Sure. Let’s go get some coffee” she answered trying to control her embarrassment -and growing desires.

They entered the store, Abigail first because he opened the door for her. Differently from the street, the coffee shop had a homely feeling thanks to the warm and cozy temperature. That was surely possible thanks to the various huge ovens they had behind the counter with sweets in-the-making. And right there in front, next to the cashier and the barista, a long line of showcases with crystal panes -filled with cookies, muffins, cakes and such- flooded the clients’ eyes. 
Piercings-guy joined the line, and Abigail followed him. She started to look at the menu on the wall hoping to find her favorite. She had a short neck,and a cheeky face, making her look like a cute little turtle. Not that he would say that anytime soon… “What are you gonna get?” he asked, also staring at the menu. Nothing that he wanted there. Ugh.

“Probably nothing, can’t see French Vanilla anywhere…”

“Why don’t you sit down and I call you when it’s our turn?”

“Sure.”

Abigail chose a seat near the window, a comfy green couch that looked at the street and waited for him to call. For a moment she believed he must have been joking, he was taking too long but Abigail did not dare to look back. Surely he left and I’m here all alone waiting…but then a big mug of coffee appeared magically in front of her face,on an arm full of beautiful full-black tats. 
The guy had taken off his jacket, he had it over his shoulder, and now she could see he had a sleeve of totemic tattoos from his wrist all the way up to his shirt’s sleeve. “Is that a full sleeve or just the forearm?”

Oz was genuinely surprised at the question, most chicks ask to touch the tat instead of pretending to have a non-sexual interest in it. “Full. It takes a bit of my chest, back and trapezoid too.”

“Hot…” she said zipping at the hot liquid and slightly burning her lips. The pain of shame and awkwardness. o.O

“Thank you. ^_^” he dropped his jacket on the table in front of them and sat down next to her. “I’d show you, but you know public places.”

“To be frank, I know nothing of Canada’s public places.” She answered. Abigail then asked him why he didn’t call her back to the line, as he said he would.

“Megh”he answered shrugging his shoulders and raising his feet to the table. Oz stared plainly at her, put his arm on the back of the couch behind her, but was very careful not to touch her. ‘Move slowly,Oz. Slowly.’

Abigail looked around to see if she had been put under custody inside a fishbowl or if she maybe had a big flashy sign on top of her head. The way he stared made her feel… well, she didn’t even know howto describe it. “What?” she asked plainly. ‘It isn’t surely attraction…’. Good luck didn’t just happen to her. Right?

“Nothing” he replied as he thought that she was really odd. Not as in fucked up odd (so far), but sort of interesting –and pretty odd. She had caught his attention with something as simple as a wink, and now didn’t even dare to look at his face. The chick kept sucking on her lip while trying not to stare at his piercings when he spoke and he couldn’t help to wonder how soft the skin of her legs might be.

“Thanks for the coffee, ahem, by the way” she whispered with lowered eyes.The coffee was perfectly delicious, and now she would relate the flavor to his good looks, probably for a long time after today.Abigail raised her eyes at him, only to meet those dark stings hardly fixed on her.

“You’re welcome” he bit his lower lip slowly as soon as her eyes went up to his face. Oz noticed how she took a deep breath and smiled for himself. Seduction 101.

#notepongasfrescopapeh “So?” she asked, after clearing her throat. Abigail crossed her legs and moved to a more comfortable position. ‘What am I doing?What do I do?’
“So?”

“You are here because…?”

“I thought it would be fun to spend some time with you.”

“Why?”

He shrugged again, giving no vocal answer.

“Sorry to disappoint you.”

“I’ve not gone anywhere” he said, giving her a(nother) side smile to die for.


Touché, Mr. Native American. Touché
. Abigail finished her coffee while they spoke about different things. She told him about her reason to be in Canada: vacations. A completely impertinent lie, but he didn’t needed to know she was looking for a job and new life. Holding back some private details to a complete ~HOT~ stranger isn’t necessary lying, but more like a precaution for the time being.

And Oz told her he was a member of a tribe about five hours away from the city. “Lived there most of my life.” 

“A five hour drive? Wow!” That reminded her of those rare occasions when her family decided to take a small road-trip to Ponce or Mayagüez. She loved those family escapades (for the trip, not the company) but sadly, most the time it was only to see a few things in the town;such as a closing store with all inventory on clearance or to eat at a ‘different’ place other than McDonald’s or Wendy’s –like fucking BK.

“It’s not that bad. Rather come here every now and then, than to drive over to Whitehorse for any kind of reason.”

“Where’s that?”

“Yukon province.”

“Isn’t that right next to Alaska?”

“Yep.”

Things began to get interesting between them but as they attempted to talk about books, music and movies, he received a text message. “Is that Rammstein?” Abigail could have sworn she recognized Feuir Frei tune as his ringtone.

“I am very impressed. :P” he said as he got up to leave after reading.”It’s been really nice to hang out with you, but I really need to go now.” Oz turned and started walking towards the door, sweet booty swaying inside those tights jeans.

Abigail was negatively awestruck. Was he in rush to meet up with his kitty-cat girlfriend? Or more precisely said, the she-wolf? “Oye!”she called after him. “Aren’t you gonna ask for my phone number?”she asked from the couch. Humiliating. So very much.

“Oh, well. Since you seem so interested to keep in touch…” He walked back and handed her a small folded paper he took out of his pocket. “…here you have it ;)”
‘Idiot!>:/’ she said to herself as she took the paper from his hand. Abigail added his number on her contact list -knowing that if she waited to do it later, she would most likely loose the damn paper-and smiled. ‘Oz’ seemed to be his name. “What kind of a name…?”she started but didn’t finish. When she looked up to where he’d been standing, the gorgeousness of man had already gone. Abigail looked around, but he was nowhere to be seen inside the shop. Only a few other clients and two employees remained.

*tick,tick* 

She turned to look at the window and found him there, outside, staring at her with a wide mockingly smile. He waved goodbye and walked away,his eyes still fixed on hers. ‘It’s like he knows me already…’

‘What’s an adventure without a mystery?’ he told himself. Oz walked away, thinking on how he would decipher her secrets. Ben and Joe will be pleased to know she caught his attention enough to give her his number. He winked at her one last time and got lost amidst the people in the street. “Now to wait for her call…”

Abigail got up to leave the coffee shop, with a wide smile on her face, when the cashier called for her from behind the counter. A cute skinny kid with chubby cheeks and spiky strawberry blonde hair. The shirt dangled loosely around his arms, but on his chest and waist fitted nicely, because of the coral pink apron he wore. And the closer she walked to him, the more Abigail was sure his flushed cheeks were the result of expertly applied make up. “Can I have the number too?”

“Nope :)”

“I mean his, not yours.”

“Lol! In your dreams, buddy. >:D”

**

Hello everyone!! I know, I know, I’ve been MIA for long enough not to even bother share the reason why so I’ll just move on. 

The little lecture above it’s part of the book I recently published on Amazon Kindle, I am sooooooooo exited! Did you guys enjoyed it? 

I’ll be leaving the link to the sales page here, in case any of you feel curious to know how things go for Oz and Abigail after the coffee shop. Also you can reach out to me on the comments or DMs, I’m in need of reviews…

Thank you for taking the time to read this, have a good day!

XO,

Idaline

Hey now!


What’s up, guys? How’s it hanging? Hope your week is going well.  I’d say mine is and am pretty grateful for that. What I’ve been doing most lately is practicing my writing on a fanfic I’m developing.

Yeah, you read that right. A fanfic. 

For those of you who know about the series called Vikings, if you’re #teamIvar like I (proudly) am, you might be interested to read it. Yeah, it’s related to my favorite crippled.

Sorry, Bran.

Here’s the link if you wanna check it out: it’s called The Beauty and The Bonelss. And please, feel free to send me a message or leave me a comment on your thoughts about it. 

Now, if you don’t know about Vikings, I’d suggest you get your butt to do something about it. The series are pretty good in general, and unlike others from the same genre it doesn’t overuses stuff like sex to get more views. It got pretty good script and compelling characters, and amazing visuals as well. 

Only thing is it’s currently on break so you’ll have to wait until November or so for the next season. Yeah, I know, you’ll have time to catch up but trust me: Vikings will hook you! 

Anyways, that’s it for today. Wish you guys an awesome rest of the week!

XO, 

 Idaline ❤

TESTIMONY: PARAGUAY 2017

Sometime, during summer last year as we were doing a mini-MAST event on Levittown (PR), Wendy came up to me and said: “You are going to Paraguay”.

These few words struck me like a lightning and froze me on my toes. How was I supposed to pay for my ticket? What utility would I, someone with zero missionary training, studies or knowledge, actually have out there on the real-life field? Luckily, neither of those questions became an issue. You see, almost immediately she said God wanted me on that trip, and if there’s something I’ve learned during my time working on the MAST project is that when God wants something out of you, you better deliver. Period. You can argue like Moses or even try to runaway like Jonas, but He will always get His way, whether you like it or not.

So, I just nodded and agreed.

The time for the journey eventually came and we took our flights: San Juan to Panama and Panama to Paraguay respectively. There as we flew, is where my story (my adventure and my lessons) really begun.

My name is Milady, and I’ve been a Christian for roughly three years now. I won’t be talking any smack about any of the previous (or current) churches I’ve been on, because in truth whatever little or much I’ve learned is more my doing than theirs, but what I will admit is this: I didn’t came to take my faith seriously, until I started participating on Wycliffe’s Associate’s MAST events on April 2016. To me, this work on Paraguay has been not only an opportunity to participate on God’s plan for the world, but also my personal proof of His hands working on my life. From seeing a shadow moving over the ocean like in Genesis to seeing His influence and power working on the arising issues. From feeling His love pouring out of people who don’t know me to knowing that no matter what comes against us, we as a team will always have the upper hand because “all things we can do in Christ”.

In all honesty, I can say I have no complains about anything in Paraguay. Could I have acted better a few times? Absolutely! Could a few of the participants (translators and facilitators alike) have had a better attitude on this or that occasion? Of course! But hey, that’s how people are. We make mistakes, it happens. The wonderful part about this is that, either way, God will still use us for His magnificent, perfect purpose. I am thankful and honored to had been chosen to work on this project overseas, and am certainly looking forward to let myself be guided again, and further, by God; unafraid because He promised He would be with me wherever I go.

Love you all in Christ,

XX,

Idaline

#illbeback

BLOG CLOSED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE

Lately, this has become more a burden than a pleasure. I’ve been simply not including it into my schedule and that is not the way it should be, so I’ll be taking a looooooong break from blogging (which I haven’t been doing much lately to begin with) and concentrate on the things I have to do IRL.

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Wish you all a fruitful, joyous and blessed 2017!

Bye for now but not forever,

Idaline ❤

17 days (or so) ‘til 2017.

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Are you excited as I am?? I loooooooooove the fireworks ❤

And as Puerto Rican, the season’s food is crazy amazing too :3

So, if you’ve read some of my previous post, or my FB statuses, you’ve probably noticed I’ve been having a few little issues of the ‘romantic’ kind. And I use that term very loosely… I have no idea how hard it can be for the rest of the population to meet someone but frankly, I’m feeling a bit fed up lol. Like, it’s already quite challenging for me to find someone I’m attracted to (out of books and movies, of course) and if we add the ‘he-being-attracted-to-moi’ factor, that simply makes it all the worst. Which is funny, I don’t find myself to be butt-ugly not to be able to caught somebody’s attention but when everybody around you it’s either getting married, having babies, or just having guys stare at them in the mall without the slightest effort, you begin to wonder if there’s something off with you. And trust me, I wish I had someone to talk about this on the phone but when I try to introduce the subject to any of my friends, they don’t really seem to be very into the subject to continue. And that only makes me wonder at a whole new level… You see, my past two experiences have been with boys overseas. Maybe that’s one of the problems but come on, it’s either that or local guys who have told me to my face they only want what I got between my legs.

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“Hm…”

Honestly, I’m not saying I’m looking for a ‘until-death-do-us-part’ thing from the get-go…but I’m not a living blow-up doll either.

My problem with them have basically been the same one, which worries me very much. At first they had seem nice and serious (into the getting to know me part) but after a while, they seemingly start to loose interest. And if they came up to me and told me about it openly that would be great, but they don’t. They just start ghosting away, ignoring messages and such.

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What the hell guys? I’m a 5.3 little woman, not Brienne of Tarth. There’s no reason to be so afraid (or whatever emotion makes you feel like you forgot which of us have the balls) of me not to talk. Or text…

So, I dunno. I have no idea what would be a fitting solution to this situation I’ve been having. A part of me doesn’t wants to give up, stubborn-brat that I am, and another is already researching what breed of cats would be best for the different places I’m looking to move to. But in truth, I’m not as upset –this second time—as I could be. You see, I have this little voice in my head that keeps telling me everything it’s gonna be okay. I have no idea what exactly does that means but I guess I don’t really have anything to loose. I cannot say none of those boys are bad, and I keep calling them boys because I refuse to use another word with individuals who refuse to talk about things like grown-ups are supposed to do, and God knows how difficult I can be on a daily basis AND this is a very personal opinion: I’m not stupid nor blind. And I can read very well. Have some respect and courtesy, my time is as valuable as yours. Grow a pair and talk, you were given a voice for a reason. Wounds heal, all the scars I got prove it but none of them have made me love people any less. You like to call yourself many things, and being the narcissistic/arrogant bastards you probably are, I’ll let it slip. But know this: I can call myself a princess, and that’s perfectly allowed because my permission doesn’t comes from men.

Who knows? Maybe the reason why none of these experiences worked its because they were tricks meant to do greater harm in the long run. Well, guess what? It may hurt now, but one of these days it won’t hurt no longer…and I’ll get to have even more material for my stories. Cheers!

XX,

Idaline ❤