So in the latest chapters that I uploaded I introduced a new chracter named Marcus Grant. And since I know how you guys like faces to go with names I now present to you additional eye-candy that make up Marissa's world.





Now I don't know about you guys, but I think Bryan and Tyler has some orgasm competition here.

Okay it's been long overdue. I know. But finally I have new chapters for you guys. So read and enjoy. Oh! Almost forgot, there is a new character that enters Marissa world. This person lets us into a bit of Marissa's past and will play a big part in her life in chapters and stories to come.

Go read the continuation of the story here: http://www.lulu.com/content/1183717

Bryan: You alright there partner? You haven't said much since we pulled out of the parking garage twenty minutes ago.

Marissa: I'm fine. Just running some things through my mind.

Bryan: Personal or work-wise?

Marissa:Personal

Bryan: Santoni?

Marissa: *sigh* Why does everything have to be about fucking Santoni? Can't it be about me sometimes? What about my wants and needs?

I'm sick of feeling the way I feel about him, when I know that he couldn't even be bothered because he's all wrapped up in Julie. I'm sick of her too. I'm sick of the both of them. What the hell is so wrong with me that he couldn't have picked me over her?

All he does is waltz in my life and say things that totally contradict what he does and then leaves me to try and figure out what the hell it really is he wants from me. I mean, come on. Would it kill him to be honest just once?

My God! When did I turn into such a pathetic loser that I am sitting here whining about my non-relationship with Tyler? I'm a federal agent for Christ sake. I am respected when I walk into a room. I am feared by criminals when I come after them. Plus I am hot and gorgeous and a very sexual person. I need sex. I need gorilla sex. Hot, sweaty gorilla sexy. I want it. I deserve it. I deserve to have an orgasm.

And I'm not going to reserve that for Santoni. Oh no. The next man I feel even slightly attracted to I'm going to pounce on him. Pounce. I'm not going to put my life on hold waiting for a man who's chosen another woman to fire up his loins. No sirree. I'm going out there and making myself available. Men want me. Men hit on me all the damn time. I am a penis magnet. It's my curse.

Bryan: Remind me never to ask you anything before you've had your coffee.

Okay, so today we had a CSI refresher course. It was alright. It was done in the kitchen of the office. Wait...let me go find a pic to post up so you can better understand the scenario.



So anyway, today's exercise was "Retrieving Evidence From A Body". Very informative. We learned about hair, fiber, skin and bodily fluids evidence.

That's DeChooch lying down on the floor behind the table, and that's me in the white garbage bag suit with the pair of tweezers in my hand picking up a strand of hair on Choochie's sleeve.

That was no easy task as he keep making faces at me and I kept losing my grip on the hair. And even though I was wearing a mask the instructor knew I was giggling furiously behind it and sternly instructed us to focus at the serious matter at hand as it can make or break our cases.
Damn Choochie!

Anyway, the scenario was that he supposedly died of natural causes, but there could've been a possiblility that he was poisoned (the plate and cup nearby).
An autopsy would have to solve that mystery, but for now our job was to recover physical eveidence from the crime scene to build out case on. Not an easy task when something like this happens in a heavy traffic area like a workplace kitchen.

The kitchen looks great though. Most days it looks like kindergarteners live in there, but I guess for this morning's exercise they wanted to make an impression.
I'll give it until 4pm before it looks like it usually does. That's why I eat my lunch at my desk.

Wow! This blog has improved since I was last here. Impressive.
Ohmigod! Is that my IM with Bryan below? How embarrassing. Is nothing scared anymore?

Anyway, Bryan and I have been away on training in Virginia. Every year we have to sharpen out tactical skills, so we go to Quantico and get put through the paces all over again.
I swear the training has gotten harder from since the last time I was there. I still have rope burns on my hands from trying to climb up that damn vertical wall. Who in the hell other than Wonder Woman could scale up that wall in two minutes? That thing was like trying to climb up Mt. Everest. Of course Bryan did it in 1 minute and 35 seconds. I hate him.

Then we had Ammunitions Training. Now I can shoot with the best of them, but this training range was ridiculous. Are paper targets supposed to be so small? What ever happened to the full body target? I have a pic. Take a look:



What the hell are those bottle pictures about? It was like being out in the old West when they did target practice using bottles. That's Bryan third from the left. I swear that man lives for shooting people. It was like he was back to his old mercenary ways. Eyes focused and squinty, face a blank mask, body posture rigid.

Meanwhile I was struggling to carry the fifty pounds on my back while trying to control the kick-back on my MP-5. No easy task I tell you. It would've been easier trying to tackle a 250lb. guy while trying to eat ice cream on a cone than trying to carry all that shit around in 95 degree weather. My hair was soaking and plastered to my head when I took my helmet off. As if I ever had good hair karma right?

But I did get good marks on everything I did. As Bryan had told me as I was about to give up after shimmying in the dirt crawling under wires all day: "The pain and frustration you're feeling now is nothing compared to when you're out on the streets with a bullet in your gut and fifteen bad guys shooting at you."

That right there was enough motivation for me. Having been shot I know that the reality of that pain is nothing to joke about.

But now we're back in the office. I have my Dunkin Donuts coffee in my hand and a croissant on my desk. There's no heat, dirt, water, mosquitoes, bunk beds, trainers yelling in your ear or five mile runs at 6am. Life is good.
Okay wait. Hold that thought. I see Tyler making his way over to my desk. Damn.

So people thought the email addresses to the characters were fake. Hmmm....

Guess again peeps. Look at what Nic got!

Hi Ms. T,
I finally get to hear from you. I must say I was flattered when Geisha told me of your interest in contacting me...it was a very nice surprise.
She also told me you are a writer, and not to be too forward, but I think women who write have an extra special something.

Geisha has also given me your blog address so I will check that out in the future.

Anyway, I'm off. Marissa is reading this over my shoulder and snickering. She's so rude. I hope to hear from you again.

Regards,
S.A. Bryan Anderson

nicbeast wrote:

Hello Bryan,
I hope this email finds you well. Please be safe and am looking forward to hearing from you.

Always,
Ms. T