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Glacier Bay Stories

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Hello All,

The idea of Glacier Bay Stories started way back in 2002, this ambitious idea was to tell unique stories all set in and around Glacier Bay, a fictional town located somewhere in the USA. Glacier Bay is based on several small towns I grew up in and probably is either in the north east or north west, somewhere along the Atlantic or Pacific. How's that for generalities?

This year, I focused on single stories/plots and started writing, the concept is the same, there are a thousand stories in each town Each story is a self contained story that is fully realized, it may touch on other future stories or have been influenced by earlier ones. You won't have to read them in any particular order to get a resolution. At the moment, I have one novella finished except for edits, three short stories (though my definition of short story is longer than most) finished, with two other novels in the third re-writing stage.

And for the first time in my life, I really stretched my writing ability to the limit, different formats, I tackle themes I never thought I would, different fetishes, and different time periods. In the coming weeks, I will be looking for an editor to help me clean up the first Glacier Bay Story called Time Stood Still. 

Here is an excerpt: (remember there has been no edits except my sloppy attempt at re-writes)


Greg chuckled as she left the room with an armful of paper. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes but a moment later he heard her exclaim from the other room, “Oh dear, I almost forgot. A package arrived for you this afternoon.”

“It’s probably another birthday gift.” Greg called back as he poured himself another drink.

“I concur. It arrived while you were opening your other gifts and I thought it prudent not to include it with the others based on what happened last year.” She explained as she walked back into the room with a medium sized box that had an envelope attached to the top. “There’s no return address, it simply says Happy Birthday.”

He looked at the box somewhat dubiously. He agreed with her, it was probably from one of his college friends. And after last year's diamond encrusted cock ring, he was rather glad she had kept this one separate. 

He slowly opened the lid and peered cautiously inside. It was filled with packing peanuts and he gave her an unsure look before putting his hand inside. He felt something cold and metallic and slowly pulled it out. It was a silver picture frame, from the look, solid silver. He flipped it over and looked at the photo inside the frame. His eyes teared up and he made an unconscious yelp.  

“Are you all right, sir?” Mrs. Winterbourne asked? Her concern was on full display in her dark eyes. 

Greg didn’t answer, he couldn’t. He felt like he had lost his ability to form words together. The memories that image called to mind was of a day long since passed. And that memory was filled with joy and intense pain that he had carried with him even all these years later. He rubbed his finger across the image as he wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.


Greg suddenly realized he was standing there with wet cheeks. He sniffed and tried to smile but it was weak. He sat down and motioned for her to take a seat across from him. He held the photo in his hands and said softly, “I remember when this picture was taken. It was a long time ago, a few weeks after my father died.”

“I seem to recall that you disappeared for a week right after the funeral.” She said as she sat down in her chair, her back straight and her hands folded in her lap. “Glacier Bay I believe.”

Greg nodded. “Back then, the board was applying pressure for me to sell off my shares and give up my seat. They weren’t as confident I’d be able to run the company back then.”

“They thought of you as a liability.”

“We both know they were right.” Greg said as he placed the photo face down on his desk. “But they didn’t know I had a secret weapon in my corner, did they?”

In her usual manner, the woman showed no emotion, though Greg did notice she somehow managed to sit up even straighter. She said, “You just needed to be pointed in the right direction.”

“After the funeral, and the impending semi-hostile takeover, I felt like my life was spiraling out of control.” Greg admitted as he took another sip of his cognac. “So I fled to our house in Glacier Bay without telling anyone where I’d gone.”

“The entire board was in such an agitated state, no one could find you, the vote was coming up.” She recalled with a straight face. “It took me about six hours to find you.”

Greg chuckled loudly. He had always suspected she knew more about his life than she let on, and this admission just confirmed it. “It was reckless to disappear at that time. But after my parents passing, the very public way the will was release, the pressure of a hostile takeover of my family business, and relatives I never knew I had coming out of the woodwork, I had to get away from it all.”

“If you think about it. Glacier Bay was the logical choice. Your father ran away there fifty years ago and came back with a wife.”

“Yes, it was the one place we could always go. It was the one place I was most happiest.” Greg said before he paused. “We’ve never really spoken about that week, have we?”

“When you came back, you were so focused and we had so much work to do, there never seemed to be a good time for that particular conversation. Though I’ve always been curious why you rarely have gone back to that house, yet you refuse to sell it.”

Greg looked at her with his piercing blue eyes for a moment. He said quietly, “I wouldn’t have told you even if you had asked back then.”

“Have you ever been to that house in Glacier Bay?” Greg asked. When she shook her head he continued, “It’s perfect. It’s situated in a small inlet, sheltered on all sides by trees my father had planted years ago. Large enough to host guests yet it always felt intimate for just the three of us. There is a caretaker that lives on the ground year round and when we were there, a chef cooked for us twice a day but after that, we wouldn’t have to see another living soul.”

Greg stopped his story and said, “I’m sorry about my manners. Would you like some of this amazing cognac?”

“I would love to, sir.”

Greg poured her a glass and then refilled his. “I had been there for three days, and from the property next door, I  heard what I could only describe as a non-stop party for two of those days. I guess even an introvert needs some kind of human interaction, because after spending three days feeling sorry for myself, I decided to head over there and see what was going on. And that’s when I first met him.”


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