Posthumus Writings

I've been a bad blogger...

2011-09-08T17:36:00.000-07:00

It's doubtful many people read this blog, let alone it exists, but I feel guilty for not keeping it up. And posting something at least once a month.

Things have been rather busy... ok, well, chaotic. We're been planning the wedding and we're currently at seven months out. Um... right. So that means six months of procrastinating, right? No? Drats.

I've also returned to writing the murder mystery and, well.... it's not an easy task. In fact, it's been the hardest thing to write yet. Mysteries have a sort of formula you follow and are supposed to include red herrings and multiple suspects. And lots of words. Yeah, those words will really do you in!

Plotting hasn't been the easiest, what with trying to squeeze in the wedding alongside our typically busy and chaos-filled life. The kids are in school, yes, but they now have the dreaded homework to do. Yes, even kids in kindergarten have homework these days. Horrible, isn't it????

Oh, yeah, and I've also been plucking away at my artwork. I've managed two really awesome pieces.... and that's pretty much it so far. Inspiration isn't easy to come by, ya know!!!

So, that's pretty much where I am, for anyone who reads this thing. (Is there anyone who actually does read this??? Probably not...) Oh, well.

Back in the Writer's Seat Again

2011-06-14T06:30:00.000-07:00

Sooooo..... I'm back in the writer's seat again and ready to continue upon my murder mystery. I plotted out some with my soon-to-be-husband (10 months and counting!) the other night and, sorta, know where to go. For once, I'm not killing off the mother either prior to the novel or during the novel. Shocking, I know, but something has to be different, right? Besides, hopefully it'll help people 'bond' with the character more and give our sweet Fi (yes, like wi-fi or 'hi') more depth.

It's not easy going, though! Especially since I'm writing in 1st-person with a good deal of sass and snark thrown in for good measure. The sucky part is, I've only managed to write just under 15, 000 words. Which means, I'm not even a fourth of the way through since I'm aiming for 80k. 80k is a good number, no?

With luck, we'll have it done in time for the wedding. Hopefully. For those who are trying to figure out what that would come to per day, it would be around 214 words a day. hmmmmm.... It's possible!!! Though, not really likely since I don't write some days and I'm pretty sure there's gonna be plenty of days when I'm too busy with wedding stuff, family, friends, or holidays to write.

At least it's a goal, right?

Weddings, Writings, and Murder

2011-01-10T08:18:00.000-08:00

Ok, so, no one has been murdered... at least, not in the real world. On paper? Oh, yeah. Lots of death occurs on paper! But then, one cannot write fantasy or a murder mystery without someone getting killed eventually.

I've managed to hammer out more on my beloved urban fantasy murder mystery and have begun mentally plotting the deaths that shall occur in it's sequel. Yes, there IS going to be a sequel... mostly because I enjoy the idea of killing off people. If you can't do it reality, why not do it in fantasy? (And if one is REALLY fortunate, get paid for it!)

As for the weddings? Welllll... I am still planning my wedding, which shall occur in 2012. There's also the wedding in the second sequel to "Death's Heiress". Now that I'm finally planning my own, I'm able to figure out how to plan out a royal wedding in the novel. Should be fun, since the MC will end up being side-tracked A LOT from the planning!

Oh a very non-writing related subject: I've figured out how to make quill pens from feathers and ink pens!!! Eventually I'll have a nifty tutorial but it's actually really easy to do.

As for the munchkins, for anyone interested, the eldest is doing good in school (despite being hard-headed and hating homework, big surprise), and the youngest is being her usual very cheerful self. Both are spoiled. My co-writer and I are co-habiting without troubles and I'm looking forward to eventually having an actual HOUSE to decorate and call our own.

Halloween and a Wedding

2010-11-09T13:49:00.000-08:00

As I continue to write (really, I AM trying to write the murder mystery!) I keep being pulled away by family and fun. Not just the ordinary everyday stuff like cleaning and shopping, but my vampire-hunter's birthday, the holiday --Halloween (my most FAVORITE holiday)-- and going to a wedding in the capital city.

Three days of dressing up (I changed costumes for each day) and dressing up for a wedding. Trick-or-Treating with the kids and seeing a few friends while having way too much fun at Short Pump. (That, in itself, is a story for another time.) All-in-all, it was a great time.

The gown I wore for the wedding was a success in many ways. I'm also very happy with the fact I finally managed to do something fancy with my hair and it turned out amazingly well! (The secret: lots of hairspray, hehehehehe). Many thanks to a dear, dear friend who gave me tips on how to curl it! One of the many highlights was when Mark asked me to dance, something he doesn't do very often. Not that it was easy dancing with him and holding the hem of my skirt up so I didn't trip on it, but it was so very, VERY worth it. (So was dancing around him later... hehehehehehehe)

For those wondering, I've managed to get a little over 7k written (about 24 pages, double-spaced) but I wouldn't trade ANY time with the family for anything. My family will always be first, no matter what the future brings me.

Here are a few pics of Halloween and the wedding:

My vampire-slayer as Iron Man and his sister as Belle.

Mark & Me at the wedding reception

Me posing at the wedding before the ceremony & reception while waiting to help mix the drinks for our friend who was the groom.

Halloween!

2010-10-19T12:17:00.000-07:00

What's Halloween without a little witchy magic? ;)

So it isn't very much on the "writing" topic, but it's still a fun topic. The research has been very fruitful, even if I didn't get to go to a local event due to a sprained ankle, but no matter. A great friend (who was an officer for several years before becoming an EMT and who now works at a local hospital in the ER) has been VERY helpful. I can ask him pretty much anything, and he has an answer. He's also going to be one of the few who gets to read it it and point out all the inaccuracies. :) No complaint there!!!

On the fun side, my little IMP has a slew of costumes to choose from for Halloween and my little Vampire Slayer is going to be getting a really awesome costume for his birthday. Hopefully it will last until Halloween... As for mommy, well, I've got plenty of costumes and am still debating which one to wear. Batgirl, Poison Ivy, the sorceress, greek goddess, the Star Trek communications officer (think Uhura's outfit from the new movie)... So many fun options and only three days to wear 'em. :) (Did I mention Halloween is my MOST favorite holiday???) Since we have a wedding to go to the night of the 30th, I'll be wearing a tinker-bell-ish type gown complete with stilettos and (hopefully) will do something fancy-shmancy with my hair. (Yes, I just made that word up.)

For those who are wondering about the ankle, I twisted it last Friday morning (the 15th), walked around on it all day, and realized it was swollen and bruised that night. Our EMT/ER tech-friend advised getting it checked to make sure it wasn't broken Saturday evening, and I got it x-rayed at the ER Sunday. I now have the nickname of "Gimpy" and "Hop Along" and keeping thinking I should be wearing a frog costume...

As for my son's b-day, which is coming up, we're planning on taking him to Build-A-Bear at the capital (love saying that, hehehehehe) and a late lunch/early dinner at Maggiano's (aka little Italy). Should be fun. Especially since he has a coupon for Build-A-Bear since it's his birthday.

Research and Murder

2010-10-08T10:07:00.000-07:00

Murder and Mayhem. Two lovely words that fit perfectly together.

I've always been intrigued with murder mytseries. You could probably blame my parents for that. My mother and father, both, read mysteries and watched a variety of TV shows and movies about murder mysteries. Perry Mason, Hercule Poirot, Miss Marple, Columbo, McMillian and Wife, Murder She Wrote, Banacek, and way more than I can remember.
(Artwork copyright J.F. Posthumus 2010)

Me? I loved 'em. I now watch Castle, Bones, and Psych. I also adored Monk. My daughter, who is only four, also loves Bones, Castle, and Psych. She especially loves Bones (her favorite, I think, is the Man in the Bear). There's just something about solving a murder that keeps me entertained.

Then, there's the stories about murders that took place before I was born, told to me by my parents and grandparents. Of course, a few of those also include ghosts. Do I believe in ghosts? Yep. If you don't, fine. To each their own. :) But many stories of murder, especially those that took place in the past, include a ghost. Typically of the person killed. To me, that makes it even more interesting and spooky.

As for writing a murder mystery, trying to keep it semi-real isn't easy. You can only find out so much online and through movies. Fortunately, I have a friend who was a former police officer who I can ask questions.

But... who does one do when they don't have friends in the right career? How do you get the guts to call up someone, be it doctor or detective, and question them on a crime scene or the symptoms of a deadly poison? Or what poison can't be traced or the questions asked at a murder scene?

So many questions, so little time.

A New Novel

2010-10-01T10:31:00.000-07:00

So, I've begun a new novel. It's something I've been wanting to write for a loooong time. Not to mention, it'll be pefect for someone with a last name that translates, literally, to "after death".

Haven't guessed yet? It's a murder mystery! With a fantasy-ish twist. Only because computers are from hell, gremlins live in said computers, and demons possess the living... as well as walk amongst us unknown. Ok, so two out of three is fantasy. ;) After all, everyone knows computers are from hell!

I have about six pages, or 1900-some words, written so far. Another oddity is the fact I'm actually writing in first person. The reason being: I'm writing something I know. I'm using my own profession in the novel for the main character, so I have eight years of experience to pull from, not to mention the annoyances that can come from everyday use of a computer.

Of course, I've still got a long ways to go. From discovering the body, to finding clues and planting red herrings, to figuring out who dun it and why.

The best part of this novel? The research. I get to pick a co-worker's brain about golf (a game I abhor and mock happily), I'll be asking Mark's sister and mother about working at a library (yep, that's a part of it, too), and, of course, reading mystery novels. Not just any, but murder mysteries!

Who am I reading? The Queen of Murder Mysteries, Agatha Christie as well as the every amazing Earl Stanley Gardner's Perry Mason novels. Then, of course, there are the movies (Murder on the Orient Express, Perry Mason episodes) and tv show Midsummer Murders and Sherlock Holmes. Ok, so Holmes isn't murder mysteries, but he is an excellent example of mysteries!

If I could find copies of The Toff, I'd read those, too!

Here's the first page, for those interested. It needs some editing (Mark's supposed to go over it later), but what the heck? ::

“How was the golf tournament?” I asked Jamie, my co-worker and golf enthusiast as I booted my computer.
The game, tournament, had taken place that weekend and though I hated golf, I enjoyed hearing about my friend’s weekend. An important part of being a good co-worker was taking an interest in their lives. Or at least hearing who won and who lost. I'd been off the week before and, though she'd posted a status on her Facebook page, there hadn't been any post about who won or lost after the update on the game.

Jamie peered over the short partitions, a broad grin on her face. “We placed second. You would’ve loved it. It was on the weird side.”

That peeked my interest. I turned around from my computer, giving Jamie my undivided attention. Sweet, friendly, and bubbly, she could have been a cherub. Wavy blond hair curled under her chin and at her neck, heart-shaped face, and bright blue eyes. She even had dimples when she smiled. Jamie also wore flattering clothing that showed off her blond-bombshell figure. I’d met a few cherubs and every one of them could have been a model. Of course, I also knew she wasn’t a cherub, but I always wondered if she had cherubic blood in her ancestry somewhere.

“Congrats on the win! How was it weird? What happened?” I asked.

“Thanks. Each player had nothing over a 53. They all had birdies or less. Talk about weird. I’ve never heard, let alone seen, anything like that before. They were all checked for ‘loaded’ clubs, but they came up clean. They won the pot with ease. It was almost eerie the way the balls seemed to zero in on the hole.” Jamie explained.

Great. A wizard that plays golf and cheats to win. That’s really original. Not that I could tell Jamie that, she’d probably think I was crazy. So, instead, I jumped on the loaded club comment. Especially since it made me think of a club rigged to be used as a gun.

“Loaded clubs? How do you make loaded clubs?”

It's been a while...

2010-09-27T10:13:00.000-07:00

Yes, I know, I'm falling behind on my blog and keeping it updated. Or semi-updated. Nothing exciting has happened in the writing arena, at least not yet. (Though I DO have a cool idea for a book of a different color. More will come of that at a later time.)

I've been editing the plethora of novels (mostly Banshee, Heiress, and Betrayal, but also two others that are in the works) while dealing with the usual gammet of problems. Like a certain 2nd grade boy who doesn't want to do his homework, a little 4 year old whose diva/princess complex tends to get her into trouble, and the start of a celebration to take place in two years that involves my co-writer. Speaking of my co-writer, he also moved in at the start of June last year! YAY!!!!!

He now has a job at a place he was wanting to work when he went to college for psychology (we won't go there. At all. Ever.) before realizing what he wanted to do, wasn't gonna happen. So, now he's finally working there and loving it, for the most part. The downside, is we haven't managed to figure out when or how to get our writing done. It'll come. Eventually. Besides, we have plenty of time to get the novels written and edited. Why? Because we wrote Heiress for fun, for us. Sure, we want to be published and have the really awesome title of "published author", but it isn't a requirement for us. After all, how many people can honestly say they've written x-many novels? It's not something EVERYONE can do, just like being published isn't something everyone can manage. (Not including self-publishing here, etiher.)

On the bright side of things, I now have a kick-ass query letter and short pitch thanks to a VERY awesome friend out in LA. (Thanks, Stan, for all your help!!! It's greatly appreciated!)

I've been doing lots of crafts to keep me occupied and have fallen in love with doing crafty stuff with ribbon. I've also been doing crafts involving ceramic tiles (think kitchen, bath, and floors), photos, and modpodge. They make GREAT coasters (after you cover them with a stain of sorts) or even plate holders. I'll eventually have a tutorial for it, complete with photos. (I've already got a tutorial on May Arts for ribbon roses. I still need to do the one for turning them into a bouquet, though...)

Halloween is just around the corner, so who knows what else I'll get into between now and then.

Writing is Like... Fishing...

2010-06-02T11:34:00.000-07:00

Current update on me and the family:
School ends next week with the Vampire Slayer being out of school for the summer and the eldest (my stepson) graduating. Mark will be moving in with me and the munchkins after the eldest graduates on the Imp's b-day.
In the meantime, we've been window-shopping online at houses and looking into loans and stuff in the hopes of getting an acual HOUSE of our own with a yard for the dogs and (maybe... hopefully...) a cat. Not to mention Kam (Kahmet) the bunny. I miss my bunny, even if he is a tempermental brat at times. (hmmmm... not the least bit like his owner *wink*) And, of course, the fact that eventually we want another hellion to eventually turn loose on the world. Three just isn't enough, after all ;)
The downside of things is Jammerz closed, which means no place local to go to for musical stuff. It sucks, since Mark loved the place, I like the guys there, and the kids also loved going there. Especially the Imp, who is very much her father's daughter in soooo many ways.
Oooooh, yesss... there IS one more thing for those who actually read and keep up with things.... We've figured out when we'll be getting married. I'll post the exact date later, but at least we've most of the planning out of the way with the tentative where and who all will be there.

Now, On the the Writing Stuff!!!

I think I finally figured out what writing and trying to get an agent is really like.... Fishing.

Think on it.

People love to fish, not just to GET the fish (and eat 'em afterwards) but because it's fun. Even if you're fishing for sport and throwing 'em back, you can be sitting in the boat or at the edge of the lake or river trying to catch a fish, while others are reeling in big fat trout or salmon. You, in the meantime, are pulling in nothing but an empty hook and maybe the occassional piece of trash. Is it your bait? Your bobber? Wrong hook? Or just not your day to get a good catch?

Landing an agent is like landing a fish. You have to be in the right spot, at the right time, with the right hook and bait (in this case query letter and novel).

So, what do you do? Keep fishing! (errr...writing...) and Keep trying. Eventually you'll land something. If not, you've still had fun in the process. And at least in writing, you have a finished product and something you can be proud of: a completed manuscript.

No Teaser Today

2010-04-27T09:53:00.000-07:00

Ok, so there won't be a teaser today or for gods know how long. Why? Simple: the novel writing is taking a break for other things... like making ribbon roses and planning of events and Mark finally moving in (it won't be till June, but it's not that long off). We still writing when we can during my lunch and sometimes on the weekends or at night. However, I'm not going to kill myself to write nor am I going to badger Mark into writing when we're doing other stuff.

Spending time with the kids, the family, and doing other things is more important than writing, even if it IS our dream of becoming published. Eventually we'll get back into a good pace for writing/editing/etc, but until then, we're going to write as we can, when we can, and not force it.

On the bright side, the kids are doing well and plans are falling together nicely. I've once more begun dabbling in crafts and, though I'm probably going to go crazy with trying to get my roses "perfect" then put together, I don't care! I might even do an arrangement of ribbon roses to put in the fair... which reminds me... I've GOT to work on the art I'm gonna submit this year! EEEK!!! Times running out on that, too! LOL

Contest...

2010-04-18T11:18:00.000-07:00

There's another contest out for aspiring writers. It's located HERE and offers critiques by agents and, if for some lucky winner, a lunch date with two agents in NYC!

Heh... if you "tell Oprah" you get "+100"... and yes, there actually IS a way to "tell oprah"... it's called "contact us" on Oprah.com. Finding that link is a pain in the arse, so good luck!!!

Update!

2010-04-16T13:40:00.000-07:00

So, some of you may have noticed there haven't been any teasers for a while. Wellll... there's a good reason for that. Okay, a few good reasons, lol.

One, being I've been trying to edit the novels we've got. Another is I've been distracted with non-writing stuff. Friends, summery-type events like being outside for the kids to play and visiting family. And then there's the major reason: My co-worker and fiance' is moving in with me in June, at long last! (Chris is graduating this year then, if all goes as planned, he's hoping to join the Air Force.) So, we've been rearranging A LOT of stuff in the apartment (closets, cabinets, etc etc). A long, boring, ardous task that must be done. And, of course, there's the usual cleaning required when you have two lively kids.

So, writing has taken a back burner for real life, and, to be honest, I've been enjoying the hiatus. We're still plotting along with "Warlord's Daughter" - a new twist that turning out really, REALLY well, and we're writing here and there.

I've also been a bit distracted by other planning, that goes along with Mark moving in. :) I'm sure most out there can guess! and, yeah, details will be coming in the coming months.

Sooooo... there ya have it. The reason for the lack of teasers (for those who have been reading 'em) and an update on what's going on.

Another Teaser from Banshee's Daughter

2010-03-22T18:25:00.000-07:00

So, I've been busy doing artwork and getting over being sick. I am SO getting the flu shot sometime soon. I've also got to see the printer version of the artwork I did for my workplace and it looks REALLY good. I'm sooo glad it's done, though.

Anywhos... Here's another teaser from Banshee's Daughter. I'm currently working on a picture book for animals that come out at night and also attempting to plot out a young adult novel. Urban Fantasy/Fantasy, of course, revolving around our beloved Xantos and his unknown daughter. (that should sound familiar, since we were writing another called 'warlord's daughter' and we've subsequently changed it completely.)

As for the teaser.... For those just tuning in, Iliana is the daughter of a banshee. She's a retriever of magical artifacts between her world and Baradwys, which is a dimension full of beings that are only found in fairy tales and where magic abounds. It's also where Xantos resides. Iliana has so far managed to be intercepted delivering an artifact in Baradwys by Xantos (where the highest bidder always wins), be hired to retrieve Dante from a crazed dark elf witch, and banish a djinn. Now she's got assassins coming after her, and Xantos isn't the guilty party! After confronting Xantos, Iliana managed to concoct a mixture that keeps Xantos from trying to seduce her or take advantage of her. This takes place the day after the first attack on her.

*****************************

In all her banshee glory, which Iliana loved but refused to admit to her mother, Ceara stepped through and into Xantos’s office. Red hair danced about her head with a life of its own, her gown a pale green that swirled around her like mist as her glowing red eyes glared with intense hatred at Xantos. Her hands were claws and only her face remained human, though, considering her red lips were pulled back into an almost-inhuman snarl, Iliana wondered who would win a battle of the magics.

It wasn’t something she was going to wager on, either.

“Momma, I’m fine. Xantos wasn’t the one who sent the attackers and he didn’t do anything,” Iliana quickly said, her words practically running together. She turned to Xantos. “Did you?”

“Don’t bother spewing out a lie, Xantos,” Ceara growled. “I can tell by the sour look beneath that smirk you’re wearing it’s the truth. Pray tell me why, in the names of all the gods, you didn’t bother informing me my daughter was here before now?”

“Because she was sleeping against me, woman... and I did not wish to disturb what may have been her most peaceful sleep in ages. Surely, a mother can appreciate that.” Xantos rejoined.

“As though you could not have informed me prior to that,” Ceara countered, stalking forward. She turned to Iliana, eyes narrowed to what Iliana considered the ‘danger zone’. “You haven’t been sleeping well? Why haven’t you said something to me?”

“I’m a grown woman, Mother; I don’t need a babysitter! I sleep well enough. As for Xantos, I can handle myself,” Iliana interjected. “Xantos, I can’t thank you enough for everything you did, but may I have my weapon back so I can return home? You and mother remind me of a pair of bickering divorcees.”

“Ironic- considering we have never mated.” Xantos mused. “As for your advanced arquebus, I have it here.”

He opened the left top drawer of his desk. Her automatic was placed on the desk top a moment later.

Iliana’s eyes brightened as she picked up her beloved weapon and practically cradled it to her, stroking it almost lovingly. She glanced at her mother and winked.

Ceara rolled her eyes, folded her arms across her chest, and began drumming her claws against her biceps. “Nor do I have any intention of being another notch on your bedpost, Xantos. As for you, my daughter; despite your teasing, there would be no possible way a child could come of my coupling with any mortal being.”

Iliana turned her attention away from her weapon, which she was carefully examining for blemishes or damage from either Xantos or the bullets. “What do you mean by that?”

Eyes still glowing red, Ceara glowered at Xantos. Completely ignoring Iliana’s question, she continued, “If you’re finished here, we need to return to our home world. You’ll be staying with me until those responsible are caught.”

“Like hells I am,” Iliana snapped. “First, I am not staying with you. Nor am I staying with Roland; he’s worse with me than his own pack’s pups. Alesio is still angry with me, so he’s out of the question.” She paused, and then smiled slyly knowing exactly what would annoy Xantos and her mother, not to mention both Roland and Alesio. “Perhaps I could ask Dante? I’m certain he wouldn’t object.”

“My, my... instead of the lesser known evils, she pines for the greater unknown.” Xantos interjected. “No wonder men are drawn to your offspring, banshee. I find myself wishing there were more like her abouts... those that were not my relatives, of course.”

Ceara’s eyes flared and Iliana could have sworn she saw sparks. “Are you saying Dante would harm my daughter?”

“Wait a minute,” Iliana interjected. “I’ve accepted a date with Dante; why in the hells would he want to harm me if he’s been badgering me for a date since he met me?”

“Perhaps you’re merely saying this to try and keep my daughter all to yourself,” Ceara added darkly. “If I could, I would forbid her from crossing between the dimensions, but even I am not that foolish.”

“Oh, such importance you place on yourselves and kin.” snorted Xantos. “Still; I can understand the penchant and need to do so. I refer to... wait... you don’t know. Ah, I cannot spoil such a delicious surprise. I agree that Dante does not intend harm upon either of you. But... as is so often the result, don’t we men usually... heh... burn the ones we love?”

“I’ve already warned her about his horns,” Ceara retorted sharply. “I approve of him, but perhaps you are right.”

“What in the hells are you two talking about? I feel as though I’m in the middle of one giant riddle. Let me guess, the sphinx has the answers to your questions?” Iliana rolled her eyes, crossing her arms angrily. “Fine, I’ll go to Alex. At least if I snuggle with him, I don’t require protection of any sort.”

“Do as you wish. I shall enjoy the spectacle. I will be at your discretion should you need more obsidian ammunition, or advice.” Xantos said from his throne. “May I consider you available for further recoveries or similar works?”

Live Chat Event...

2010-03-22T12:59:00.001-07:00

Just stumbled upon this: http://bittenbybooks.com/?p=21397 -- It's a live "chat/blog" even with Carrie Vaughn, author of the Kitty series. Great books, too. She just came out with a new one for young adults, called "Voices of Dragons". GREAT book, btw. :)

I recommend dropping by the site at some point and snooping around. They have daily chats with different authors and even prizes, like signed books!

check it out!!!

The Novel that Started It All

2010-03-15T19:22:00.000-07:00

So, I figured I'd post something from the novel that started it all. Of course, it's also a novel that needs A LOT of editing, rewriting... and, to be honest, it needs to be picked apart for the best parts and rewritten completely. Yes, it's THAT BAD, lol. However, we haven't done that (though we really should at some point), but we do make references to events that occured in the novel and characters that appeared in it. We also have a few show up in other novels, one especially, because they were such great antagonists. The novel, Love's Betrayal. It's all about how Xolyn met Aly and, despite being a fantasy novel, has a thick romantic subplot. Well, to be honest, it wouldn't be a novel without Xolyn and Aly falling in love, lol. It is also not only the introduction of Aly and Xolyn, but Xantos, also.

Anywhos, this is the last bit in what should have been the prelude, instead of the first chapter.

**********************************************************************

Alyssiana walked silently through the tables, her cloak still pulled tightly about her. Her eyes swept the room, knowing that though she didn’t see any guards, they had to be there. As she neared the farthest dining room, the voices became louder. She could see a light beneath the doorframe. She paused before the door and glanced down towards the floor, one hand on the doorknob, the other on the dagger at her waist.

Head held high, she opened the door and stepped inside. Shutting the door behind her she brushed the hood back to reveal her face. All the men in the room turned to see who had dared to interrupt the meeting. Her grandfather sat at the head of the table, his silver hair pulled back with a leather strap. None had expected her save her grandfather, Xantos Davoryn Zaurahel, High Lord of the Royal House of DiSendra. She stood silently, as one of Xantos’s servants removed the cloak from her shoulders and withdrew from the room.

“Stop standing and sit, child. You’re wasting time.” Xantos’s voice was cold and emotionless.

“As you wish, Grandfather.” Alyssiana nodded once then walked around the table, aware of the eyes that followed her. Each man in the room had a gleam in their eyes and, though she knew her abilities, she was thankful for her position as Xantos’s granddaughter and not just another hireling. She slid into the vacant seat to the right of her grandfather.

Xantos raised his eyes from his ledger and glared around the table at the men before him. His expression was cold and daring. The men lowered their eyes back to the papers before them as Xantos slid a note to his granddaughter.

Alyssiana remained silent throughout the rest of the meeting and remained seated after they had left. The note remained on the table beneath her folded hands.

The silence that ensued was more than Alyssiana wanted to put up with. “Why did you summon me here, Grandfather?” She waited for a response, certain that it wouldn’t be something she would want to hear.

“You realize that by doing this…task…you are playing into his hands. My enemy: Your enemy. And he will exploit you further, given the chance.” Xantos made no effort to hide his displeasure.

“Considering all that I know you to be capable of, Grandfather, I can see why you are enemies. You are so similar in how you live, and do business.”

The elder Docelfar smiled coolly. His constant air of knowing more than everyone else, even if she had used that character flaw to her advantage from time to time, irritated her. Alyssiana braced herself, not sure if he would continue, or if she had finally found the breaking point. He could kill her, here, and no one would make a gesture to stop it.

“Even if your presumptions of me were correct,” Xantos began, “there is one divergence between us: I care for you, and consider your death to be an unpleasant event which should be avoided. He has no such discretion.”

Abruptly, she stood. How many of the deaths that haunted her were by his hand? If not his own, then someone from the massive host in his employ or servitude? Her teeth were bared, gray eyes blazing down at her grandfather. The questions and accusations wanted to pour from her lips. She had come to accept and honor her heritage; what more did he want? Must she try to kill him before he was satiated?

The cold smile stayed put. Alyssiana considered her options, and sat once more. Let him finish what he has to say. I will not be goaded from my position. She promised herself.

Speaking once more, Xantos lowered his voice to a secretive whisper. “In a year’s time, perhaps less, I will move against the dahnri, and he will be mine. You can find other obligations to serve until then, or take your place at the House of DiSendra. I would even fund a personal quest. Take your pick, my child.”

“I have made my decision.” Alyssiana countered. She got up again, and this time, she moved next to Xantos. The smile had faded from his lips, just a bit. He clapped his hands, and the servant returned, bearing her cloak. The man held it out for her, and she slipped into the comforting folds. Alyssiana moved to leave when her grandfather’s voice stopped her a final time.

“Consider all that has come before, Aly. Think of what you know, and what the possibilities are. You may find yourself realizing what I have tried to warn you of.”

His words rang in her ears during her walk to the inn. The voice did not cease to echo in her mind as she summoned another portal and changed at Xantos’s house. Memories played in her dreams as she slept in the rented bed at the inn. In the morning, she thought she was, at last, free of those words. After a meal, she packed and began to travel once more. It took very little time in the quiet outdoors for her mind to unlock the hated door Xantos had built.

Consider all that has come before…there is so much…

A bit of Romance....

2010-03-02T04:46:00.000-08:00

Here’s something from “Gifts of the Gods”. Our fantasy novel with a romantic storyline. Of course, we’re still trying to cut out about 48k from it, so it’ll be interesting to see what all ends up getting nixed. (We were having a bit too much fun with this one! LoL.) Anyways, I thought I’d post something completely different. (That’s what I get for reading the current fantasy novels I have – like Karen Chance….)

Backstory: Aeryn is the daughter of Shamazu, goddess of fire and lust, and a mortal. She’s been banished after arguing with her mother about Sham’s attitude and treatment of the mortals so she can get to know the mortals better. Aeryn takes a job as a hostess at a casino in her mother’s city, Blysia Caer; a city devoted to fulfilling one’s every desire. Aeryn has not only inherited her mother’s beauty, but also a great many of her mom’s immortal abilities. The casino is now one of the most influent and prosperous hotel/casinos in Blysia Caer and the majority come to see the hostess who is as beautiful as a goddess but far more gracious and kind. Baudin has his own reasons to seek out Aeryn, and they’re not all good intentions.

The below takes place after Baudin meets Aeryn initially and a few sparks (of the good sort) fly:

"Shall we wait for the bath?" Baudin asked innocently. "I would hate to be interrupted if you have... specific plans for tonight..." His eyes held hers in a smoldering, lustful gaze.

Aeryn inhaled sharply and her eyes closed halfway at his words. "I have no specific plans for tonight," Aeryn replied huskily. "A bath sounds very... enticing."

Shifting her weight from one foot to the other, she watched Baudin from the doorway, wanting to go to him, yet her nervousness kept her feet from moving.

He lifted one hand to her. "May I invite you to join me? We may relax while we wait for the servers to bring the hot water for the bath..." He smiled at her. "You may keep your clothing on, if you wish."

"I... that is..." Aeryn suddenly found herself unable to articulate her words. She closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. Opening them once more, she took slow, silent steps towards him, keeping his gaze as she slowly took his hand. She whispered hesitantly, "Do you want me to keep them on?"

"I want you to be at ease, Aeryn." Baudin said, and his eyes showed nothing but concern and truth. "I will remain covered by these exceptional sheets that Daun has provided, and you may keep your clothing on, until and unless you are comfortable removing it. I have no interest in pushing you, or attempting to force you. I don't wish to be cooked, after all." He gave her a playful wink.

Aeryn blushed deeply as she said softly, "I wouldn't 'cook' you, Baudin. I couldn't." She knew she was being shy, but she couldn't help it. She lowered her lashes and smiled at him from beneath them. "No one else has ever affected me like you do."

"Nor have I been touched by anyone as you have touched me." He blushed a little, and amended his statement. "Touched my soul, I mean, not... well, you know...” he blushed deeper.

Aeryn giggled softly. "I will warn you," she said shyly, turning her gaze from him as she sat on the edge of the bed next to him, "it... has been a while since..." She trailed off, her face growing warmer and uncertain of how he would take her admittance that it had been a while since she had taken a lover.

"I do not care." Baudin said soothingly. "Not of your past, nor how many lovers you have or had. I care about spending time with you, and pleasing you. Is that weak of me to admit?" His hand slid into her right and squeezed gently.

"No, not weak at all." Aeryn replied warmly. She leaned forward, her eyes searching his as she lowered her lips to his in a soft kiss.

"I'm glad you agree." He whispered, and met her lips with his own.

The kiss enveloped all of her senses, and when she felt her mouth open, inviting his tongue to explore with her own, she was only a little shocked at her boldness. The deeper kiss felt even more natural to her than the beginning, when their lips only pressed together. As the kiss continued, and her hand found its way into his soft hair, she let herself drown in the warmth and pleasure.

When the kisses finally ended, she fell back a little bit from him, breathless and swooning. Her half-lidded eyes took Baudin in, and she saw that he was the same as her; breathing hard, almost disoriented, and trying not to fall over.

Reaching up with a slightly trembling hand, Baudin stroked her cheek. "Perhaps we should just lay here and talk until the bath arrives?" He asked in an uneven voice. He slid a little away from her and patted bed. "Please, just lay here, atop the sheets, and we can talk... and recover from that kiss!"

Aeryn leaned into the caress, drawing several deep, equally shaky breaths. Slowly reclining onto the bed, she swung her legs onto the mattress and snuggled closer to him. A playful smile curled her lips as she laid her head against his chest.

"What shall we talk about?" She asked with an impish smile.

"Tell me about your day, Aeryn." He asked still breathless. "I would know how you wiled away the hours until you came to this room." Aeryn heard his words, but once he had begun to speak, she had snuggled in closer, and her eyes had drifted towards the foot of the bed. Her gaze had stopped, however, when she noticed how aroused he had become during their kiss, and was still aroused. The soft, silken covers outlined his body perfectly, showing the gentle, slight movement of the covers as his hardened manhood touched and slid against the black satin sheets. It was as though it had a life of its own; which, in her opinion, it did.

No Teaser This Week...

2010-02-17T09:32:00.000-08:00

No teaser this week, so instead, I did a New Blog Layout!!! WOOT! I discovered a nifty program called "Artisteer" that I downloaded and played around with and decided it was worth the investment. Mostly 'cause I hate plodding along in Dreamweaver and LOVE programs that let me take my art and turn it into something awesome. :-D It took a little smacking around to make it do what I want it, but it finally surrendered.

The trip to Short Pump was a lot of fun, even if it was FREEZING. I got a nice (VERY NICE) pair of Giani Bini shoes that were on sale, a corset-type blouse from Hot Topic, toys for the tiny terrors, and a shirt for our eldest. Mark also got a t-shirt (Rob Zombie, lol), a cd (Rob Zombie to go with the shirt), and a cool bag (one of those shoulder thingys similar to a tote bag). Maggiano's, as always, was AMAZING with service and food (for what it's worth, I do not have a love for beef and Italian is no exception, as Mark discovered). The little IMP also decided that chicken fingers and the beef dish wasn't to her liking, but Mommy's Rigatoni D WAS. She also decided that Mommy's raspberry lemonade was MUCH better than her drink, too. No need to guess what SHE will be getting next time we go! LOL! And, of course, I can't forget the fact I got to see a friend who joined us for lunch. :)

All in all, it was a great weekend and I hated it having to end. Ah, well. There will always be a next time.

Teaser Tuesday... Banshee's Daughter, again.

2010-02-09T07:55:00.000-08:00

Ok, so the kids are happy, Mark's got a toothache, and I've FINALLY gotten over strep. What a fun time it's been. On the good side, bills have paid, fun stuff has been bought (mostly required stuff), and a trip to Short Pump has been planned for this weekend. YAY!!!! Build-a-bear for the two tiny terrors is a must. (Our little IMP is going to get a sheep... maybe she'll stop wanting the puppet from the library if we can con her into getting one...) And, of course, Maggiano's, cause it's THE BEST Italian restaurant. And I'm gonna go searching for a strappy, sexy pair of silver stilettos... time to break away from the plain old black. :)

Anywhos, hopefully we'll remember the camera (hopefully). If not, we've got our phones. :)

And, on to the teaser!!!

p.s. the novel is done at just under 85,000 words! YAY!!!!
*******************

“If I enjoyed the boredom inherent to mixing up my concoctions, I’d have a wealthy life with little excitement. However, I don’t; which is why I’m a hired retriever of inanimate objects”

Something about that statement made Xantos chuckle.

“Yes... such as we cannot confine ourselves to a single outlet of one’s personality, can we?”

“My mother always chastised me for growing bored too quickly; she always claimed I’d find trouble. I suppose she, and you, are right.” She chuckled and gestured towards the flowers around them. “Most of these are indigenous to your world, aren’t they? Do they have any specific use other than beauty?”

“Most within my private garden are for beauty’s sake.” Xantos agreed. “But as you are aware; many of these flowers and bulbs have a use other than looking beautiful or swooning a heart.”

Iliana slid her fingers away from the petals, startled. “This is your private garden?” That certainly changed things a bit. A very big bit. “What uses do they have? Or is it a trade secret?”

“Look about, and tell me what you would use any of the specimens for,” he challenged. “Surely, you have already noticed a few that you would use.”

“It doesn’t work quite that way,” Iliana replied, blushing. “The lavender and red clovers could be easily used to make a mixture for ‘ensuring’ a prosperous, passionate marriage. I could concoct an unlimited amount of mixtures from the herbs and flowers of my world. Those from your world? I could only follow my instinct and hope something comes out of it other than a pretty flame.”

“How do you know that you didn’t produce something more than a ‘pretty flame?’ You often mix ingredients blindly, ignorant of possible outcomes?”

She plucked the blossom of the yellow rose, the strange hyacinth cactus combo, and the leaves of another unusual bush laden with deep, blood red blooms with black centers that reminded her of tiny daggers.

“I follow my instincts. Most of my combinations come from allowing my sixth sense, if you will, to take control and tell me how much of each to use.” As Iliana spoke, she placed the blossoms and leaves in a pile in her hand and breathed upon them.

The ingredients began to twist into a funnel shape; growing in speed and intensity until a tiny tornado traveled upon the palm of her hand. The tornado twisted faster and faster, until a sextuplet of tiny black points, like black arrowheads or the tips of daggers, flew from the tornado. Wherever these projectiles hit, frost spread rapidly in a radius of six feet. The tornado blew out on her hand.

“That certainly wasn’t expected,” Iliana commented, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. “Perhaps I should not create any other mixtures here.”

She looked at Xantos, who was looking at the frost damaged bushes and flowers with a mixture of anger and shock. Finally, he glanced at her and steadied his expression. He seemed to gather himself before stretching his hands out before him. Magic surged in the very air around her, forcing her eyes shut. When she could open them again, all signs of the damage her little experiment had caused were erased. Xantos was smiling at her.

“Why don’t you explain to me how you did that?” He requested pleasantly.

“I didn’t know what the combination would produce, otherwise I wouldn’t have attempted it,” Iliana quickly stated. She considered the flowers and what she had felt from them. “The rose created the base, the kindling for the tornado. The blossom from the hyacinth-like flower gave it the power and also is the cause for the frost. It was the third that created the projectiles and kept the frost contained until it touched a surface.”

Iliana shrugged helplessly, clasping her hands tightly together. She didn’t trust the pleasantness of his voice; it was far too similar to what he used with the captain. Her mother always said, the first reaction was the true reaction, especially when dealing with ethereal and magical beings. It was often the same with words; what was first spoken was often what the person meant, not what they wanted you to hear.

“I’ll refrain from any other mixtures, I swear,” Iliana promised.

“I would simply prefer such experiments were conducted in a less fragile environment.” Xantos commented. He walked away from her, towards where the projectiles had done their now deleted damage. He inhaled sharply, and smiled back at her. His hands spread wide in a gesture of offering; but she noticed his fingers fluttered slightly as they grew apart.

“It would bring me pleasure to provide a private room to conduct such experiments... that would appeal to you, yes?”

She felt a tingling of unexpected desire; accompanied by an upsurge in some flower’s scent. She had to swallow and gather herself before answering: Her first impulse was to tell him she wanted to please him, and a private room would be perfect!

“I’ve no doubt it would,” she replied uneasily, looking towards the flowers, trying to figure out which one was the culprit. “Perhaps we can discuss that possibility at a later time. After I’m no longer a target for assassins, would be most ideal.”

Xantos tilted his head and pursed his lips.

Damned if he doesn’t look like the late Michael Landon playing the Anti-Christ when he does that. She observed. She was startled when he spoke again in the pleasant tone.

“As you like. Shall we continue the tour?”

As long as you don’t try to seduce me again, she thought as she crossed to him. Aloud, she agreed, “Certainly.”

Teaser Tuesday - Xantos shows his bad side...

2010-02-02T06:30:00.000-08:00

Another Teaser Tuesday snippet. A bit longer than usual, but well worth it, I think. Up till now, Xantos has shown his "nice" side... sooooo... here's the true side of Xantos. :) ENJOY!!!!

oh, and it's not quite as gory or graphic as some we've written.... ;)

backstory for those just dropping in: Iliana is a retriever of all-things non-living. Magical and not, she finds it and returns it to whoever has the highest bid. After being hired to rescue Dante from a crazy docelfar witch, she becomes the target of assassins. She immediatly suspects Xantos, someone who's famous for pulling such acts. So, visiting him in nothing but her extra-large nightshirt, she discovers it's not him. So, after a little magic and having Xantos show up unannounced, they head off towards Xantos's gardens. This is what happens next.

********************************

Her musings kept herself from worrying about everything that had happened prior and what was sure to come when she returned to her home. Or, in the very least, her home world.

Xantos kept a slow pace, allowing her to be overwhelmed by the beauty of the architecture, paintings, and statues that lined the hallways and corridors. All were beautiful and breathtaking.

As they turned a corner, she noticed another being with snow-white skin and hair dressed like a warrior moving towards them. She couldn’t suppress a shiver as evil rolled off him like the air from an opened freezer. Perhaps it was the glee mingled in it that caused her to glance sharply at Xantos, imminently thankful for his presence and the robe.

Even were it not for the fact the newcomer’s eyes were the same glowing orange as Xantos and had pointed ears, Iliana would have known he was a docelfar. Xantos, however, didn’t seem to share the other elf’s delight. Instead, his expression darkened and she felt the same sense of evil wavering around her host as she did from the warrior.

Somehow, she got the idea that being here wasn’t such a bright idea, anymore.

A slightly smaller male, dressed in similar garb, stepped in from behind the first. Both men bowed to Xantos.

“Captain, Sergeant... report.” Xantos acknowledged and commanded.

“My eminence,” the shorter male replied. “The village stands no more. No one will question the wisdom of giving you the proper tithing from profits... especially those who have reaped a life from your generosity.”

Iliana took a step back, her eyes widening in shock. She shivered again, pulling the cloak tighter about her. Dearest gods. Xantos ordered such an attack? Alright, she’d happily admit he was an evil son-of-a-bitch. All for money. Why was she not surprised? Even if she was disgusted.

“Yes... it is so very disheartening when I choose a village to grow something, and even though I only require thirty percent of all profits, and the rest go to the people... they still feel they have the right to expect the rest,” said Xantos.

The captain smiled wolfishly. “None shall be foolish enough to attempt such blasphemy... not after tales of our deeds have spread.”

The whole village, though? She wondered. Did that also include the children and innocents? The women? Wasn’t there an unwritten law that said women and children were to be left alive?

Iliana slid back another step. There had to be a way to sneak out of here. Her room, she decided, had plenty of mirrors. She’d go to Alex; he wouldn’t turn her away.

“Perhaps you plan to spend the remainder of your days going to every tavern within a three day ride, spreading the tales yourself?” Xantos said with a pleasant tone. “You did not, after all, leave any survivors. This is contrary to my orders... and to my doctrine.”

The dark, bitter tang of anger wafted to Iliana from Xantos and she wondered if the pair could sense it as well as she could. She doubted it, since she could just barely notice it. Still, Iliana took another couple tiny steps away from the trio, she didn’t really want to be in the middle of what was to come. She’d rather be another dimension away.

“Your doctrine of not slaying anyone who does not attack.” the sergeant offered. “Children, women, any males who do not offer resistance while we weed out the guilty.”

“Precisely.”

“Well... the men became...” the captain began.

“The men followed your orders; which were, as stated, contrary to mine. I was observing you,” declared Xantos. His voice had not waived from the calm, pleasant tone.

Iliana glanced at Xantos. Okay, so he wasn’t a totally heartless bastard. Xantos had a code of honor... sort of.

“Still; this way of thinking that you present intrigues me, captain.” Xantos continued. “After all... I have never killed indiscriminately... only acting upon an urge to kill... no regard for what usefulness a being may represent; save the satisfaction of ending a nuisance or imbecile.”

“My...my eminence...” the captain said, and he looked decidedly sweaty to Iliana.

“I must try this... to discover if I have been foolishly following a useless code. That would be to my benefit; would you not agree?” Xantos said, looking from the captain to the sergeant.

Despite Iliana’s overly curious nature, she slid back yet another few steps. Maybe if Xantos was too preoccupied with the pair, she could sneak away?

“Of course... of course!” The captain agreed eagerly, obviously trying to please Xantos. Xantos made a minute nod towards the sergeant. The sergeant moved swiftly to block Iliana from making further progress.

Damn it. Why did she always end up involved these stupid power games? She doubted Xantos would use her, but did he have to insist on keeping her there to witness his next move?

“I am so glad we agree!” Xantos nearly cried. His left hand flew up, fingers splayed and palm towards the ceiling.

The captain cramped up in pain, and started to scream. Green fire flew from every orafice for two horrific heartbeats, and then the captain was consumed in an explosion of green light.

“My apologies for impeding you from exiting this ugly scene,” Xantos said as he brushed a fine soot from the front of his lavish robes. “But there are many dangers to be found along this hallway, and I did not want you to fall prey to them while trying to avoid the role of witness.”

Despite the sergeant, Iliana stumbled backwards, her eyes wide as fear and shock swept across her features. Okay, if Xantos thought she’d sleep after this, he was insane. She kept her back to the wall, with Xantos in full sight. The only weapon she had at hand was her magic, and she suddenly doubted she’d be powerful enough to counter anything this docelfar did.

“I... I...” she stuttered before drawing a deep breath, and immediately regretting it due to the pungent odor of burned flesh. “Perhaps the beauty of your garden will supplant the ugliness of this scene? If you still wish to take me there. If not, I completely understand.”

Not bloody well likely, she added silently, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to tell Xantos that.

“I was thinking that the garden’s beauty would help suppress the memory of this.” Xantos said with a patronly smile. He looked to the sergeant. “Captain, you will gather your crew and inform them of the change of command. See the lord of arms for your rank insignia. I shall talk with you and yours after the afternoon meal.”

Zazzle Store

2010-01-30T19:21:00.000-08:00

Yes, I finally opened a Zazzle store. There will be an eBay store, eventually, but I figured what the heck? Might as well broaden my reach, right? My stuff is also over at CafePress and I'll post the links to there later, for those who prefer CafePress.

Anywhos, here's the link for those interested. Docelfar Designs. I also posted a store panel below so you can see what all is in the store. Of course, it's all my artwork. And nothing uber creepy either, so no fear there. Well... the cauldron IS at CafePress, but it lacks the scary skulls....

If anyone's interested in posting a link on their site, just let me know and I'll send you the link. :)

Oh, yeah, and I have strep throat. Got meds for it Thursday and am feeling better now. amazing how fast antibiotics can help one feel better fast... and SLEEP. geez, they make me sleepy...

******************

create & buy custom products at Zazzle

Teaser Tuesday - Something different...

2010-01-26T14:37:00.000-08:00

To keep from boring everyone with "Banshee's Daughter", I thought I'd post a snippet from the fantasy muder mystery that's currently on a back burner. It might get brought out later, but for now, it's simmering in the back.

Anwyhos, the backstory is thus: Shyndra is an assassin from Fellhaven, Deltheya (Xantos's world aka Baradwys.) She learned at Xantos's guild and is younger than Xandra. She's just completed an assassination contract and was enjoying herself with Alyn (a good friend of Xandra, tolerated by Xantos, and whom she has a smidge of a crush on) until her cousins show up. Though only two are blood-related, all four of the "Brethren" are considered family to her. The Brethren have just informed her that her beloved uncle was murdered.

Here's what happens next:

The walk to her room seemed to take far too long. She felt giddy, but a black sadness kept sweeping over any excitement she felt about taking Alyn to her bed.

When she reached her door, and was unlatching it, Shyndra did not know why she had asked Alyn to her room. It would be the height of hypocrisy to try and dismiss him, now.

Chewing her lower lip, a fault her mother had constantly scolded her for; she drew a deep breath and stepped inside, closing the door after Alyn. Gods, the man was handsome and charming. She wanted to forget the misery that kept trying to claim her yet she knew this could only be a short term affair.

Unclasping her outer robes, her lips curved into a seductive smile. Even a night of pleasure was better than days of unhappiness. More than anything, though, she wanted Alyn for at least one night. Tossing the robe to the side, she removed the leather armor she wore beneath, leaving only her simple white gown.

Crossing to Alyn, she pressed up against him, his arms enveloping her. Despite his strength, he was so very gentle. A surprising, yet very pleasing discovery. Nuzzling his neck, she felt tears welling up in her eyes and her lips trembled.

Gods, she was not going to cry! She wasn't... so, why were there tears leaking from her eyes? And... why was her chest tightening to the point where she thought she couldn't breathe?

Swallowing, Shyndra blinked back her tears and forced air into her lungs, willing her grief to leave her. She was not going to cry, not when she wanted some pleasure in her otherwise dismal life.

Brushing a kiss along Alyn's neck, she tightened her arms around him. She was stronger than her grief. She had to be. There were no true paladins in polished armor who would rescue her from the life she had made for herself. So, gods be damned, she was not going to cry and she was going to enjoy her night with Alyn.

That is, if she could stop her eyes from filling with water before trickling down her cheeks.

Alyn lifted her head up, and immediately she could tell, even with her vision blurring, that he knew she was trying not to cry. He immediately bent and kissed the water from her eyes.

"Alyn," she whispered, her voice cracking even with the single word. She choked back a sob, even as her eyes burned. The tears broke free and she melted against him, leaning her head against his shoulder as she wept. It wasn't what she had planned, or wanted, but it seemed her feelings were going to win this battle.

He shushed her and held her against him. The sobs were becoming worse, but she did not seem able to cease them. Alyn did not even attempt to pull away. He just continued to hold her tightly against him.

Shyndra leaned into his warmth, letting him comfort her. A small smile kept trying to form on her trembling lips. Closing her eyes, she snuggled closer, taking solace in the fact he was everything the rumors proclaimed, and more. Her lips twitched again and she pressed a trembling kiss to his shoulder. His lips pressed against the crown of her head and a smile finally broke through her grief.

Teaser Tuesday - Late Night Attack

2010-01-19T07:59:00.000-08:00

We're about 10k-15k from being finished with Banshee's Daughter!!! YAY!!!!! Hopefully we can get it finished in the next week or so.... hopefully sooner...

Anyway... I figured I'd jump ahead some and post what happens a little later... which is also the first attack on Iliana in her own realm. And, like any true hot-tempered red-head, she goes after the one she thinks sent it, rather ticked off.

***********************************

Peeking into the kitchen, Iliana slid around the corner, keeping her back near the wall. Not seeing anything humanoid, she glanced to the tops of the cabinets and the fridge. Nothing huddled in the shadows ready to leap down to attack her. Or at least, nothing she could see. Iliana glanced downwards at Layla who slunk into the kitchen and stared into the living room, her dark eyes glowing an eerie red.

Alighty then, whatever it was, was playing in the living room. Iliana wondered briefly if it hated the light and contemplated turning on the living room lights with a spellword, but decided against it. No need to inform the nosy neighbors about her uninvited nighttime menace.

Drawing a deep breath, Iliana reached out with her magic, sending it trailing through the wall she was leaning against and adding a barrier of magic that soon pulsed throughout the walls, ceiling and floors. With luck, that would keep the shots from the gun from waking not only the neighboring tenants, but also those in the houses near her.

The last thing she needed was to explain why she had fired her handgun in her apartment. If there was a body also, things could get a bit dicier. Especially if it were another playmate sent by Darkflower or, worse yet, one sent by Saldone.

Shoving the thoughts to the side, distractions were the last thing she needed, Iliana crept towards the doorway to the living room. Glancing around the corner, she checked the top of her entertainment center, but saw nothing. Gliding to the other side, she checked the other cabinet nestled in the corner opposite her entertainment center. Nope, nothing.

So where in the hells was the damned thing hiding? It wasn’t like she had a lot of shelves; in fact, she had none in the living room. Stepping into the room, she heard a slight rustle and she looked up at the ceiling above the window.

In the corner, perched with a foot on each side of the wall that converged together, was an ugly little creature with a triangular face with an oblong nose, wrinkled skin, a thin lipped, curving mouth and two tall pointed ears. A tuft of hair more like a small patch of burned weeds sat between his ears on his fat, otherwise bald, head.

A pair or large, yellow eyes watched her as she stared back at the otherworldly creature. Short and plump like a mutant frog; it had proportionate arms and legs that were as pudgy as his body. The face, also proportionate with his body, kept her from snickering overly much at the odd being. Had the head been bigger, she would’ve thought it resembled a child’s bobble-head monster toy. However, when it smiled, all amusement vanished as Iliana got a good look at the long, sharp teeth that reminded her of a piranha. Except a piranha didn’t have six-inch long incisors or talons that put gaping holes in her walls.

Taking aim, Iliana fired at the nasty fey. One shot landed in its leg as it leapt across the room from her and landed in the opposite corner. Taking aim again, she fired once more. The creature howled in pain and leapt towards her, blood streaming from a shoulder wound.

Stepping back, Iliana swung the gun up and fired, blasting another hole in the creature’s chest. It dropped to the floor, mouth open in a death scream. A scuttling sound followed by a snarl and a snap of bone had her swirling around, gun aimed towards the noise.

However, as a true marksman, Iliana didn’t fire until she had her quarry identified. A good thing, too, since Layla was contentedly washing her paws beside what looked to be a small rat, except the ‘rat’ had wrinkled reddish skin beneath bristles, was about two feet long with a ratty tail, and vampire-like teeth protruding from its squashed pug-like face. A pool of blood poured around its throat.

Not taking a chance, Iliana called Layla over to her and promptly shot the bogle in its head and heart.

“Right, so that was a fun time, wasn’t it?” Iliana asked, finally lowering her gun. She waited, listening, but didn’t hear anything else. Crossing to the door, she put her ear against it and listened. Nothing. She peeked through the eyehole and saw only the darkness of the hallway. “Well, at least we didn’t wake the neighbors!”

Layla purred as she wound herself through Iliana’s legs. Iliana turned once more to the bodies and gestured. The duo vanished from sight.

“Time to find out just why in the hells this pair was sent,” Iliana said, scooping Layla up and stalking towards her bedroom. “Care to come with me to visit someone, Layla?”

Layla coughed and rubbed her head against Iliana’s cheek before wrapping herself around Iliana’s neck.

Speaking a phrase in Gaelic, the mirror flared to life and Iliana cocked the gun and stepped through the mirror.

Holding the weapon directly in front of her, aimed perfectly at where the heart would be, she stated evenly, “Let’s see if the bullets you gave me work as well on you as it did those… things in my apartment.” She stalked forward, the gun never wavering. “Pray tell why in the hells you sent those two after me?”

She ignored the odd fact that the oversized t-shirt she wore for a nightgown didn’t change to something else because she was too pleased with the fact her gun hadn’t shifted either. The last thing she needed was to lose her only useful weapon against the ancient warlord sitting behind his desk starting at her with a calm, almost bored, expression.

“Your presence and overplayed threats indicate you would prefer me to claim I sent them to test you.” Xantos spoke mildly, as if he were dismissing a pesky servant. “But you will find no satisfaction in that regard. I did not send anything nor anyone after you.”

Not pausing until she stood five feet from him, she kept the gun leveled with his chest. “How do I know I can believe you? Your reputation isn’t exactly one that screams honesty, honor, and believability.”

“What is my motivation for sending anything after you that you could defeat?” Xantos countered, and he sounded bored to her. Bored! As if women stormed into his office demanding he answer for grief in their lives on a regular basis!

Something A Little Different...

2010-01-11T19:24:00.000-08:00

So, I thought I'd do something a little different. I was playing around with something I did and ended up thinking the picture needed a story. Will it turn into a novel? Who knows? But I had fun writing it! I'm thinking that I should make it available when my ebay stuff goes live towards the end of the month. (I'll post the link when it's available...). And no, I'm going to add the story to the picture if I decide to offer it. :)

Anywhos, let me know if you think the story matches the picture.

*************************************************

There had to be a way out of the mess I’d gotten myself into. The only question was which option was worse. Being banished from not only the island, but this world, also? Being chased by Royal Assassins of the

Fey kind who could follow a particular offensive fly for miles just to swat it? Or releasing the legions of undead and giving them to the crazy queen to rule? Decisions, decisions. It didn’t help any that Mom was a druid dedicated to the nutty queen and her spineless king to a sickening degree or that my father was already banished to another realm. The realm where demons lived, thrived, and tormented both the living and dead.

I’d been there once and I didn’t really want to go back. Sure, hot drinks and s’mores were easy to come by, but the torture, chaos, and spell of brimstone kinda outranked the coolness of smoking marshmallows over a fire; especially when the fire was actually a burning corpse. Fortunately, Daddy dearest was higher up on the food chain there and could visit often. I loved him, but that didn’t mean I wanted to live in his world, especially since I didn’t get my kicks out of torture. Well, maybe I would have if he’d had let me torture a few people I hated and were current “guests”, but apparently that was against the rules, damn it.

The sky was growing darker and waves near the shore were growing choppy. As always, the barely-there breeze that could almost ruffle dandelion fluff was biting. Considering I wasn’t wearing much more than my usual ‘sorceress’ clothes that reminded me of a few costumes I’d seen last time I’d gone to visit the mortals’ lands, it wasn’t surprising.

My birthday was nearing and I had to give the Crazy Queen of all Fey a reply to her question. Sitting on the rock that held the skeletons of an ancient tribe that had been ensconced by powerful mages millennia ago, I could feel them trying to break free of their prison.

Why couldn’t I have just remained the weird girl who breezed through her guild classes without worrying about studying? A forgotten member of this world who could paint and create delicate crafts? Oh, no, the damned Fates simply couldn’t let me go by unnoticed. Not when Mom worked for the royals, keeping their forests and orchards vagrant free, growing vibrantly, and bountiful fruit and game.

Dad, fortunately, was still an unknown. Everyone thought he came from the mortals’ realm or another dimension. No one knew he was a demon, despite the fact I could unleash the undead, summon imps and ifrets, and raise the hounds of hell. Quite literally, and they weren’t cute and cuddly pooches, either. More like canines with elongated heads, grotesque emaciated bodies with leathery skin. They always reminded me of a dried up mice Mom and I would find in crates or in the barn every so often. Even their tails were rat-like, except with barbs like a stingray.

The queen, losing followers like rats fleeing from a sinking ship and having been the target of a few so-far ill-fated assassination attempts, had learned of my paltry talents last year. Mom kept her at bay, saying to wait until I was twenty-five when my powers would be fully developed. I kept hoping someone would kill the crazy bitch, but none had succeeded and Dad didn’t dare. It would break some promise or vow he’d made. Figures. I have a father who can kick major ass and he can’t do a damned thing because of rules and regulations.

Yet I can release a legion of blood-hungry skeletons eager to slaughter without repercussions from anyone in this world, or probably even his. I was fairly certain he’d warn me if I’d spend life in eternal damnation, and not as a family member, either.

I sighed heavily, staring at the cattails and hoping maybe I’d catch my death from the cold, as the mortals often said. Not likely. The worse that would happen is it would start raining and I’d be soaked to the skin, freezing cold, and have muddy feet since I hated wearing shoes, slippers, or sandals of any kind.

Why couldn’t I just go back to the way life was before? Where no one remembered my birthday, except for family and a handful of friends?

A few drops splattered on my head and shoulders, trickling down my bodice, leaving icy snake trails wherever it went. Shoving off from the rock, I could almost hear the skeletons screaming in outrage, I trudged dispiritedly back towards my mother’s small cottage. Behind me, I could hear the howl of the wind turning over the ocean. Or was it the howl of the undead, promising to kill me the moment they were free? One could never be sure about these things.

Teaser Tuesday - A Gift from Xantos

2009-12-29T08:27:00.000-08:00

Ok, so I figured I'd continue where I left off last week, mostly 'cause I love this scene. It was fun to write and it turned out pretty well, I think. Not sure how much more on Banshee's Daughter I'll keep posting... especially since we're only at just under 60k and haven't been able to write much in the past few weeks. (Gotta plot and write, plot some more, write, lather - rinse - repeat)

Without further ado:

The host, however, bypassed all the tables and led her towards a hallway or sorts near the back of the restaurant where several doors sat off to each side. The main door in front of her was a rich dark cherry or oak with the engraving of a raven in flight holding a crown with its right foot stenciled in the center of it.

Opening the door, the man stepped to the side and bowed deeply. Iliana glanced briefly at him before stepping into the large room. A circular table about five feet in diameter sat in the middle with chairs surrounding it. On the opposite end sat Xantos in all his docelfar glory wearing robes of black and blood red. His silver hair was pulled back and tied at the nape of his neck and Iliana had the foolish desire to purchase a few Celtic hair clips, and offer them to him as a gift.

The desire was short lived however, as she began to fill chilled in the room from the tears in her blouse and skirt. As the docelfar’s eyes narrowed slightly, she groaned in dismay. For a few moments, she had actually managed to forget that she probably looked like something the cat dragged in.

Self-consciously, Iliana quickly ran her fingers through her mussed hair and offered a cheerful smile.

“Every good weapon needs a test and, well, a few rogues on the way here offered to, ah, help out with that,” she quipped. “Unfortunately, one was a bit more interested in fashion design than sparring.”

“This self-professed designer does not know how to cut for flattery.” Xantos observed. “You have lovely skin, but the dress looks ragged. Perhaps a change of clothing will help with your appetite.”

“He must have just been starting his ill-fated career,” Iliana chuckled. “It would be nice to be wearing something not in tatters. I presume you have a suggestion? Short of my going shopping prior to our meal?”

Xantos only gestured, and a server came forward, holding a wrapped parcel. The server, a portly but pale human with short brown hair, smiled and held the parcel towards her.

Taking the package, Iliana glanced at it briefly before turning her gaze back to the warlord. “Did you arrange that group of annoyances just so you could dress me in something of your choosing?”

“Certainly, I would do that. But not tonight,” was his smirking reply.

“You are so very reassuring,” Iliana replied sardonically. “I presume you have a ladies’ room I can use to change? As much as you might enjoy it, I don’t do strip shows.”

The server came forward again, and gestured past her to the left.

“If you will follow me, Lady.”

Batting her lashes at Xantos, a smile curving her lips, Iliana replied, “Be delighted.”

Following the server down a short hallway to a door, she nodded once and stepped inside the room. There was a trio of stalls, a mirror that stretched almost the entire wall across from the stalls, and a counter beneath the mirror. A pair of basins and large pitchers sat on the marble counter. Soap rested beside the basins and several towels hung on rods. It was all very beautiful and artistically done.

Setting the package on the counter, she neatly and carefully unwrapped the package, to find a gown of dark, yet vibrant purple and black fabric folded carefully.

Silently bemoaning the loss of her favorite outfit, Iliana quickly stripped out of her tattered clothing. Relieved to find her satin bra and underwear remained unharmed, she quickly pulled on the gown. Her lips pursed as the gown remained open in the back and she twisted and turned, trying to reach the cords that were supposed to keep it tied shut. As she glanced in the mirror, she groaned aloud.

Though strapless, her bra was revealed due to the criss-crossing string. Glowering at her reflection, she unsnapped her bra, slid it off, folded it up, and tucked it into her leather pouch.

The conniving son of a bitch, she grumbled silently. Not only was the gown practically backless, but strips were cut away elegantly from just below her breasts to her waist in diamond shapes. To add to it, the bodice was low-cut and if the damned gown was laced snuggly, it would make the Victorian ladies look modest.

As she stalked from the lavatory, the skirt swirled around her and her ire rose that much more due to the slits on both sides that stopped not even a hand’s width from her hips. The sword belt did nothing to help prevent too much skin from showing. If anything, it helped to show her legs, from foot to hip.

Plastering a sweet smile on her lips she didn’t bother pausing in the doorway to the dining room. Instead, she stopped with her back to Xantos and pointed towards the loose strings.

“Be a dear and tie this for me,” she asked sweetly. “I must admit, though, that I believe I was wearing more clothing in my tattered attire than in this... gown. It was certainly less revealing.”

“But far less flattering.” Xantos corrected her. She felt his hands confidently tie the strings and his breath on her bare skin as he spoke again. “This shows your figure, and skin, in the most flattering and honest light.”

Okay, so she was actually enjoying having him tie up the gown and surprising her with the gift of a beautiful, if revealing, gown.

Sword Fight & Banshee Magic

2009-12-15T10:37:00.000-08:00

Well, figured I'd post something a bit different from the novel. A short fight scene after Iliana's been invited to join Xantos for a meal.

Enjoy!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A group of rogues stepped from another alley several feet in front of her and she suppressed a groan of dismay. Why did this always happen when she was dressed nicely and wearing a weapon? Maybe that was the problem, she mused as she slid the sword from its sheath. Maybe she should just forget about wearing a weapon when she was dressed up? Or wear a cloak over her clothing so no one would know what she wore. Either that, or she needed to hire an escort for each time she entered the damn city.

Slowing her steps, Iliana glanced around and noticed no one else was watching her or the rogues that smelled worse than her mother’s chicken coops when they needed a good mucking out.

Holding the sword loosely against her right thigh, she tried using a little fear magic on the group. No need to ruin her clothing if she could keep from it.

“Something I can do for you boys?” She asked glibly, her grip tightening slightly on the hilt of her sword.

Instead of replying, the five before her spread out to close her in. It wasn’t a comfortable feeling and she sniffed the air, ignoring the stench that wafted off them worse than a dog sprayed by a skunk. Iliana suspected it would be just as impossible to remove the stench from them as it would be the skunk from a dog’s fur.

Beneath the stench was the tell-tale smell of herbs and the feel of magic. Docelfar magic. Since she doubted Xantos would have set her up, that left only one other docelfar whom she had pissed off. Darkflower.

Dropping her shoulders, she sighed and lowered her eyes for a few intense heartbeats. It was the opening they wanted and she hoped the idiots would see her as easy prey. No need to let any of them suspect she was a more than capable swordswoman.

Foolishly, they did not attack all at once, preferring to allow each other the privilege of attacking her. As she brought her sword up to connect with the rogue in front of her, she quickly blocked, twisted, and shoved him backward, taking a chunk out of his weaponless-arm in the process.

Turning, she met the blade of another, repeating the process before turning to a third. All the while, a midget of a fighter with scruffy hair, patch-work clothing and boots kept together by sheer will, kept bouncing around her taking swipes at her clothing with a sword slightly shorter than hers.

The air against her skin informed her that her favorite skirt, corset, and blouse was being shredded like a kitten sharpening its claws on nylon hosiery. Not a pleasing fact, she decided it was time to stop playing with this group.

Crouching slightly, she whipped her sword around, quickly disarming her current attacker and letting loose a sharp, ear-piercing keen. For once, she didn’t give a damn if she killed the group or not. The hopping rogue, whose spindly limbs reminded her of a frog, fell over backwards, his hands pressed tightly against his slightly-pointed ears.

Standing, she glanced around at the others, noticing blood pouring from their ears. None seemed to be conscious and she took her sword and poked the leader in the throat with the tip of her sword. He didn’t move.

Grinning brightly, she walked across the body and, not worrying with sheathing her sword, sauntered along, trying to ignore the fact her skirt was flipping like fringe with each step she took.

Fortunately, the Raven’s Claw was only two blocks away so she was able to dart inside the building without having to endure a great deal of gawking from the Fellhaven residents. Not that they were paying much attention to her, anyway. Apparently women walking along in shredded clothing swinging a sword as though it were a cane was an everyday occurrence.

Kids' First Winter

2009-12-09T14:44:00.000-08:00

Well, thought I'd upload pics of the kids during the first snow this year. They kept me outside with 'em soaking their shoes, socks, and themselves yet still refused to come inside without a great deal of tugging. Cookies were baked (store-bought tollhouse cookies). They had fun and, truth be told, so did I. We even made a snowman! (sorry for not having a pic of it...)

I hate the freezing cold, but there's something about playing in snow that even *I* can't resist!

Back to Banshee's Daughter...

2009-12-08T08:00:00.000-08:00

Here's another short snippet from Banshee's Daughter. We've finished plotting out the next bit and now we're back to writing. Highly unlikely it'll be finished before the new year, but oh well. We're currently at around 47k and hoping to have it wrapped up with around 80-90k words. (hopefully... though it might be a bit longer...)

Thanks to everyone who have been reading and commenting. It's greatly appreciated!!!

Backstory:
This happens the day after Iliana's been paid by Saldone, Dante's Father: Iliana has already received several vases of flowers from Dante and a box of chocolates of perfectly designed and proportioned naked male elves from Xantos.

******************************************************************

After tucking the candy in a kitchen cabinet, placing an invisibility spell on it before setting a small sachet of herbs that would hamper her mother’s magic if she snooped through the cabinet, Iliana returned to the sofa.

Not bothering with turning the TV off, or even stopping the DVD, she called, “Mother! I need your advice!”

A single pop sounded and Ceara stood in the middle of the room wearing a dark green shawl over a white peasant blouse and matching, dark green pants. Her bright red hair was pulled back into a thick French braid with a hairclip holding it in place at the nape of her neck.

She must have been on a business trip, Iliana mused.

“My, my, I didn’t realize you enjoyed flowers so much, Lena,” Ceara teased her daughter. “Or were these sent as a thank you from Saldone?”

“Actually, his son,” Iliana replied. She offered her mother the card from Xantos, adding, “Xantos also sent a present; a box of chocolates and no, I’m not sharing.”

Ceara chuckled. “Might I suggest a vacation in the Caribbean? Perhaps a cruise there? I’m certain you’d enjoy a long extended vacation.”

“Tempting, but I’d rather not anger our dear docelfar warlord. I do have to work in his world rather often, Mother,” Iliana retorted pleasantly. “I was hoping you’d have some suggestions about what to do about my little… umm… problem.”

“That’s simple enough,” Ceara replied cheerfully, “Tell one or the other, or both, that you’ll gladly be his concubine if they keep showering you with flowers, chocolates, and other presents. Oh, and make sure they also pay you a weekly fee of at least a million dollars.”

“Mother!” Iliana squawked, feeling her face burning.

As she was trying to force her tongue and mouth into forming more words, the doorbell rang.

“Oh, gods, what now?” She groaned as her mother opened the door.

As her mother raised her head in her typical haughty manor used to intimidate humans and fey alike, Iliana called, “Behave, Mother.”

From the hallway, she could hear a squeaky voice saying, “It’s for the Lady Iliana. A gift from my lord, Dante Saldone.”

As Ceara stepped to the side, a short spindly man wearing a red cap, white shirt, black pants and vest with a breast pocket hurried forward with a small box with holes in the sides.

“For you, mistress,” the little man said before darting from the room, leaving the box on the coffee table.

No sooner than the midget deliveryman vanished, the box began shaking. Iliana scooted to the edge of the sofa and carefully unfolded the cardboard handle. As the box fell open, a small round head that reminded Iliana of an earless raccoon popped up. Long, silvery whiskers twitched a few seconds before the animal pounced from the box and onto her shoulder. A long, bushy tail, long enough to wrap around the animal’s body, wagged almost like a puppy’s tail.

The fur, black that lightened to dark brown tips, was surprisingly soft and the feet grasped Iliana’s blouse were like hands. It purred deeper and longer than a cat, even as it draped itself around Iliana’s neck and began rubbing its earless head against her cheek.

Iliana looked to her mother who stared at the creature with a mixture of shock, amusement, and concern. She pointed to the creature and said, “Explain?”

“Your… Dante… just gave you a puka. A banshee’s familiar,” Ceara replied, folding her arms across her chest.

“He’s not my Dante, Mom,” Iliana grumbled. “Though, if he’s giving me these gifts, he can’t be all bad, can he?”

“Just wait till his horns come out,” Ceara countered with a malicious grin.

“Horns, huh? Kinky. Could be fun!” Iliana commented, trying to not giggle.

Something Different...

2009-12-01T11:27:00.000-08:00

This is what I get for having really weird dreams. I loved the cabin that I dreamed and had to write it down. So, I wrote it differently. In First Person. If it sucks, PLEASE TELL ME!!!!! (You can even say it sucks and I need to stick to 3rd person...)

Anywhos, I have no clue where to go with it or anything, which means it'll probably sit in the "other stories" folder and take up space. :)

Enjoy!!!

*********************************************************

I was supposed to meet my father-in-law in Ivy but the way the car was acting, there was no way I’d make it. Fortune, however, was smiling down on her for the next exit held hope. Taking the offramp and following the sharp curved road between the dense trees, I veered right and kept following the road through the small subdivision. Well, it wasn’t even a subdivision, considering there was maybe five houses a four-way stoplight with a service station across from her, a small building to my right, on my left, a house.

The light turned green and she urged the car forward, thankful it hadn’t, yet, cut out on me. Following the straight road, I grinned as I saw a family shield with what looked like a flourish of feathers on the top and a bright yellow shield cut into four parts. A raven sat in the top portion with a pair of crossed swords directly below it. A helmet to a suit of armor sat smiling at the very bottom.

Turning beside the sign declaring the Hoggenshire Restaurant was straight ahead, I followed the road lined with trees on both sides to the rustic, yet unusual looking building situated on the left. A parking lot half-full sat on the right and in front of the restaurant.

Coaxing the Chevy Blazer into the first available space on the parking lot, I hopped out of the car, slamming the door shut and clicking the lock twice. The horn sounded twice as I turned towards the rustic cabin-like building.

It was a two-story building built like log cabins, except where log cabins used rounded logs, this building had flat light brown, almost tan, flat wood siding. A wide ramp led up to the restaurant and I couldn’t help but smile at a childhood memory of playing on the restaurant side as it was being built. My cousin and I would hopscotch and run across the unfinished, open floor. My aunt and uncle had not even started placing the booths and they were free to run and play.

Now, the sides were almost solid panes of glass kept spotless on the outside and inside. Or as much as a restaurant could, that is. Patrons of the restaurant could watch from the three walls of windows as others strode up the ramp to the restaurant or the birds that flittered amongst the trees and bushes. In the winter, bird feeders could be seen filled with food for them while large squirrel feeders were filled with corn.

The fourth side of the restaurant was opened into a more rustic-appearing open room where there was a large wood stove in the dropped floor. Screens lined each side and a wood box filled in summer and winter both, kept the fire burning. Never did the restaurant fill with smoke, which was a miracle in itself.

Running up the ramp, I opened the door, and paused to look around in search of my aunt, uncle, or cousin. Before I could see any of them, or be offered a table by a waiter or waitress, my phone rang. Hitting the talk button, I answered.

Returning Dante

2009-11-24T08:02:00.000-08:00

Well, this is after they escape the crazed docelfar witch and her minions and Iliana calls her mom to come get them. And before you ask, no, this is NOT going to be a romance.

I highly doubt I'll be "winning" NaNo this year, but oh well. I refuse to push myself in writing when I've been doing that for the past year. Besides, being sick then having kids that feel icky and visiting family on the weekends is more fun and more important than writing, in my opinion. :)

anywhos, enjoy!

***************

As the pair opened the doors and Ceara led Perry into the rangers' station, Iliana turned in the seat to face Dante. "Ready to go visit your dad?"

"Not even close to ready," grumbled Dante. "It's going to be an hour of lecturing me on how careless I was, why he's surprised this hasn't happened before..."

"Poor thing," Iliana cooed. "I'm sure he'll still give you ice cream and cookies." Snatching his hand, she gave him a wicked grin and spoke a phrase in Welsh, the language she preferred. It was so sing-songy and fun to speak.

Reappearing in the front yard of the bauchen's home, Iliana brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, and smiled sweetly at Dante. "Don't make me drag you in there."

"Perhaps I like a woman who takes charge- as long as she doesn't torture me with spells, later." Dante said, and the grin on his face was unmistakably sly.

Was he flirting with her?

"Bah," Iliana scoffed, waving a hand dismissively at him. "I have no interest in you, Lord Dante. I want nothing to do with Braesil or the nobles there."

Shoving him towards the door, she stepped around him and strode up the rickety steps. The sooner this was over, the better. He was starting to get under her skin, and not in the bad way, either!

Dante started forward, walking towards his father's place. "You do know that a lack of interest in our money or position makes you more attractive, not less?"

"You just don't give up, do you?" Iliana snapped over her shoulders as she knocked on the door. "I am not interested in you!"

Dante tapped the tip of his nose.

"Never lie about attraction to someone with a hobgoblin's sense of smell, lovely one. Your scent gives you away. It's mild, but it is there."

"Oh, fine. You're handsome and can be charming, but that doesn't mean I'd want to date you," Iliana retorted, rolling her eyes. "If there were chocolate around, you'd discover I have an unhealthy love for it."

"So I should approach you, nude, covered in melted chocolate?" Dante chirped as he opened the door. "That's good to know!" He smiled at her and then stepped inside.

Face burning, Iliana glowered at the young lord as she followed him inside. "I would prefer you not approach me after this," she muttered. "I fear to think what your father would say if he heard you speaking like this to me."

Dante did not reply; he walked quickly down the hallway leading to his father's office. He called out loudly.

"Father! I am here! I love the hunter you sent after me- may I spend a month being her love slave? Or do we have enough in the coffers to hire her to be mine for a week?"

"For that, the price of returning you just doubled," Iliana grumbled as she folded her arms across her chest, clenching her hands into fists. She still wore her gun and it was so tempting to reach for it.

She followed him at a calm pace, picturing a round bull's eye in the center of his back. It would figure he'd wait until he was out of her mother's sight to begin declaring an interest in her. Or perhaps this was his way of seeking revenge for returning him so soon to his hobgoblin father?

The old man emerged from the office. He hurried toward Dante, and Iliana thought that father was going to embrace son like something out of a bad cable movie. There was a blink-and-miss-it hug from the old criminal, and then he began looking Dante over.

"You're not harmed in any permanent manner?"

"Nothing that wasn't already permanently wrong with me, before the witch grabbed me." Dante replied, and this bit of dry humor also seemed to be lost on the parent.

The mobster parent nodded, patted his son's left bicep, and ambled back into the office. Dante looked back and smiled at her.

"Please be aware that I'd expect to pay at least a million for that week." He said softly, and Iliana repressed a shudder- not in revulsion, but in response to realizing he was serious; he considered her worthy of such a price, even in jest.

"I don't sell myself out to the highest bidder, your lordship," Iliana murmured, passing by him. She still had to discuss payment with the hobgoblin, then she needed to leave. The sooner, the better and before she agreed to a date with this lord's son.

"I'm not bidding." Dante's voice rang of sincerity. "I'm negotiating for a once-in-a thousand-lifetimes experience. Which I am certain you are, Iliana."

The hobgoblin don re-emerged from the office at that moment, carrying a briefcase. He passed by Dante and approached her.

The briefcase was turned dexterously in the older hobgoblin's hands and opened so she could see the contents. There were thick stacks of hundred dollar bills and five hundred dollar bills.

"In my joy of having my son returned in such good condition, I have forgotten our original agreed-upon price." The old criminal smiled benevolently. "This is five hundred thousand. Large bills, yes, but all legit. Will this do?"

Discover in the Mountains....

2009-11-17T07:34:00.000-08:00

A little longer snippet from Banshee's Daughter, which takes places after Iliana is sent to rescue a hobgoblin's son. It takes place deep under the mountains in Virginia. Perry was a spelunker who was attacked by the kobolds and took several spears to his ass and Dante is the hobgoblin's son.

This has a mixture of setting, action, and (hopefully) humor.

Enjoy!!!

*************************

The castle of the docelfar witch wasn’t like any other she’d ever seen. It was as though the crazy woman wanted a labyrinth of rooms, hallways, and chambers to confuse not only those who slipped in unnoticed, but those who lived there as well.

You’d have to have a map to keep from getting lost, Iliana decided as she allowed her ethereal form to slither through the walls and ceilings until she found the room she wanted. The throne room was as chiseled and dark as the rest of the castle. The only difference was the torches lining the throne like a flickering orange crown of flames.

The exiled docelfar sat in a throne of gray limestone with shale steps leading up to the dais. Unlike most other docelfar and elves Iliana had seen, this woman was plump bordering on fat. Her hair was piled upon her head, making her pudgy face seem that much heavier. Beside her, held by two kobolds, was a tray laden with candies and pastries with a pitcher and goblet filled with some sort of beverage.

Despite the woman’s weight, her magical power filled the room and, unlike that of Xantos and Darkflower and the few other powerful magic users she knew, this woman’s magic was imbued with something else. It tasted dark, sooty, and bitter, as though someone had brought the leaves from above and were burning them instead of dried wood.

“Alzeina, my lovely,” a soft voice, snapping and crackling with fire, whispered, “I grow tired of the paltry banquet of mortals. I want the bauchen’s son to dine upon.”

Iliana shrank back into the wall, keeping only her head out from the stones so she could hear with ease. Thick gray tendrils of smoke curled around the throne, growing thicker in substance until it swirled in a tornado beside the throne. As the twister slowed, a corporeal figure formed until there was only a fog creeping around his feet and the dais.

Six feet tall, easily, with hair the color of soot and skin the purest white of a flame with a hint of blue, his eyes were flaming red and he wore a tunic of pale blue that drifted in an unseen breeze. Loose-fitting pants billowed in the breeze and Iliana felt the blood drain from her face despite the chiseled and toned body of the man leaning nonchalantly against the throne.

A djinn. It was a djinn that had been feasting upon the misery and dying in that building. No wonder Asmodeus’s minions weren’t daring the docelfar’s lair, the djinn was keeping the souls hidden from everyone. Worse yet, a single banshee couldn’t banish a djinn alone. And she wasn’t even a whole banshee!

As she watched, trying to stave off her panic, the djinn straightened slightly and inhaled deeply. Oh, gods, he’s scented me, she groaned inwardly.

“Ah, Faust, I shall personally bring the bauchen’s son to you and torture him slowly as you dine upon his dying body. It will be the finest feast,” Alzeina murmured, running her hand along the djinn’s forearm. “Perhaps then, you will accept my offer of a night in my bed.”

Faust, though Iliana doubted that was the djinn’s true name, ignored the docelfar’s touch as he stared at the column, which Iliana hid behind.

Come out, come out, little banshee, Faust’s voice echoed within her head. I know you’re here, though I wonder what brings you to my lair. Perhaps you’re hoping to save the boy’s soul from being my feast?

Iliana remained silent as she allowed her body to slide from the throne room. She had to get to Dante and Perry before the witch and the djinn made a personal appearance for her benefit. Descending through the floors was faster and easier then rising, but only because she allowed gravity to assist her. Since banshees were created from the dead and they were ‘raised’ from death, rising was as easy to a banshee as flying was for a bird.

Dropping to the floor in her corporeal form, Iliana gestured towards the lock and snapped out a command. The lock drifted softly to the floor even as the door swung open.

“That was a quick trip,” Dante commented as Iliana moved towards the door.

Iliana shot him a glower. “Keep quiet, make as little noise as possible and follow me if you want to get out of here alive and in one piece.”

“There’s a difference?” Perry asked, looking from her to Dante in fearful confusion.

“Yes. You can be alive and in several pieces as the main course to an evil spirit. Sound like fun?” Iliana asked with forced cheerfulness. “Your choice: follow us or remain as the main course for a hungry monster?”

Tsk, tsk, child, to call me a monster, Faust’s voice floated into her thoughts yet again. I’m merely a powerful being with a large appetite. Perhaps you’d enjoy staying and joining me for a meal?

An appetite for pain and suffering, Iliana retorted sharply. Sorry, but I’m not a masochist. Now, be a good little annoying djinn and get the hell out of my mind!

A laugh that snapped and crackled like burning embers filled what she thought was just her own mind, until she saw Dante stiffen and heard Perry gasp. So much for sneaking out. Maybe he wouldn’t tell the crazy Alzeina what they were up to. She could handle escaping from the djinn, provided the docelfar didn’t get in their way.

But, just in case, she pulled her gun and moved towards the stairs leading up. Perry followed close on her heels and Dante followed behind the human spelunker. No sounds echoed down the stairway towards them, which raised her suspicions. Somewhere, Iliana knew the djinn was waiting with a platoon of docelfar.

From the stairwell, she moved narrowed her eyes and peeked down the hallway, but again, it was empty. So far, so good, she thought as she led the pair towards the doorway that would take them to the city and then freedom.

The sound of maniac laughter echoed from behind them and Iliana closed her eyes in a two-heartbeat groan of dismay. Opening them, she looked past Dante but saw nothing. The djinn was playing games with her which meant only one thing. He wanted them to escape from the castle.

Sighing, she decided to give into defeat and motioned for the pair to follow her as she headed towards the door.

“Rather strange, don’t you think, that we were able to break out that easily?” Dante commented as Iliana led them through the twisting, curving streets of the kobold city. “Even out here, there isn’t anything to hinder us.”

“It’s a trap. It’s all a trap,” Perry moaned. “I’m going to be speared to death by crazy, deformed midgets and their lunatic queen!”

In the Lion's Den

2009-11-04T08:37:00.000-08:00

Well, here's a bit more of the scene from last week. I'm rather happy with how this played out.... it shows another side of Xantos, but only because Xantos is attracted to power. And if the power happens to be in the form of a pretty female, well....

anywhos, enjoy!

*********

“Perhaps you will tell me why you have been brought here,” the docelfar declared. His voice was melodic, deep, and silken; she could understand how that voice would be feared and still urge the mind to crave the sound of it.

“My guess would be I have something you want. A small spellbook, perhaps?” So it probably wasn’t the most proper answer, but it wasn’t as though she were an invited guest.

“Ah...” the warlord smiled thinly, “Someone who dispenses sarcasm in an attempt to save herself. Even while showing a sense of humor. There may be hope for the humans of your ‘place’ and time.”

Iliana hid the snicker that bubbled up. The man had a sense of humor. Dark and twisted, yes, but it was still a sense of humor. “You’re far too generous. After all, I’m not entirely human, but I’m certain you already knew that.”

“Yes, yes... such interesting blood and magic on your mother’s side of the family.” Xantos observed ryly. “Your inherited abilities are the source of your confidence. Perhaps you even believe you could leave here without my consent.”

A smile slid across Iliana’s lips and, out of pure impudence, she strode to one of the incredibly plush chairs in front of his desk and dropped down into the one to her right. She asked innocently, “Why would I want to do that, when I was extended such a delightful invitation?”

“Do your lovely manners come from your mother or father?” Xantos retorted in a pleasant, casual manner.
“A lady, good sir, does not conduct business while standing,” Iliana retorted with a thick Southern accent. She winked, dropping the false accent. “Besides, if you’re going to kill me, I might as well be comfortable when you do.”

“A well thought observation.” Xantos might have had approval in his voice, but she was a banshee, not a psychic. After sitting back, he surprised with his next statement. “We shall get upon the business, then. I shall pay you double what you were offered to retrieve the book. Also, I shall extend my protection over you for a period of no less than two months.”

Iliana shrugged. In this realm, it wasn’t unusual to have someone ‘outbid’ another on a job by way of force or cajoling. Darkflower might have hired her, but she had to admit, she much preferred the man before her. There was only one other renowned docelfar and this elf met every rumor and tale spoken, sung, and written.

“An extremely generous offer, Lord Xantos,” she replied easily, leaning back against the soft cushion. “I don’t doubt Darkflower will be very... upset... that you waylaid me and outbid him yet again. You have not, however, asked what I was offered. Forgive me for finding it odd that you are willing to pay twice an unknown amount.” She tilted her head to the side and gave a sly grin. “Or has Darkflower been bragging again?”

By way of answer, the elf leaned forward, steepled his fingers and declared, “The one-hundred-thousand gold pieces will be given to you in whatever denominations you desire.”

A soft laugh finally escaped Iliana’s lips. Not resisting the urge, she twisted her wrist before holding her hand out, palm up. The book sat in her palm and she handed it to Xantos. “I will trust your judgment in what you deem an easy and appropriate mode of transportation between the realms.” She paused and gave him another easy grin. “The book has a rather interesting teleportation spell.”

“Indeed? I may have to skip some pages in the book to get to that spell more quickly,” he answered. “I had intended to go through the book systematically.”

She studied Xantos for several moments before speaking again, choosing her words carefully. “I found it rather useful, though I believe one has to be more specific about what their desired destination would be.” She paused, biting her upper lip before mentally shrugging and forging ahead. “How many are aware of that books existence? Other than you and Darkflower, that is.”

“The few that have mentioned their knowledge near my influence are dead.” He might have been speaking about his latest meal, for all the emotion Xantos was exuding about his declaration. “You need not worry.”

“I was more concerned about the reception I’d receive upon my return home.” Though’ she had to admit, she was definitely going to need a good strong drink from the Bartered Soul before departing Fellhaven. “I’ll presume that your comment means I won’t need to worry about unexpected nighttime visitors.”

“Unwelcome visitors, no. Unexpected...” -the warlord smiled- “... if one of my minions must make themselves known, I do not expect them to have been noticed by you before.”

Batting her lashes, Iliana retorted with a playful smile, "If you desire for me to return, all you would have to do is call, Xantos. I do have a mirror you could use. I'd hate for anything to happen to any of your... minions if they surprised me in an poor fashion." She paused before adding, "It's such bad manners to return the bodies when host is so gracious... and handsome."

Unexpectedly, Xantos chuckled. Iliana tried to control her features, but she knew the skin on her face was blushing. The warlord did not seem to heed her reaction, but continued on in the same silken, even tone.
"I am sure many of my minions would, if given a choice, die with you as the last vision in their lives." He waved his right hand dismissively. "If you wish to be summoned by my family's methods; so be it. I shall grant your request, as long as you do not keep me waiting when summoned."

Iliana bowed her head, even as her cheeks grew warmer. Eventually, her mother's warnings would come true and her tongue would be the death of her.

Teaser Tuesday - Into the Lion's Den

2009-10-27T07:54:00.000-07:00

Well, here's a little more to Banshee's Daughter. I skipped ahead, since I didn't want to give out the whole first few chapters. ;)

Previously on Banshee's Daughter: Iliana has acquired a spellbook from Earth and, after being chased by three goons, continued on to Nid Tir where she caught a transport to the Fellhaven. (Though most believe Fellhaven is pure fiction, it's an actual land on Baradwys. And everything that goes bump in the night? It's all true.) In Fellhaven, she goes to the Bartered Soul. From there, she's approached by two Thorns (hirelings of Darkflower, a docelfar hated by almost everyone).

*********************

Some things never changed. May it be the service of a business, food, or the slums of a city, which was where the Thorns were escorting Iliana. The slums of Fellhaven started in the Fifteenth District and continued further down until you encountered the cannibals in the lowest districts, where few people ever ventured.

Buildings were made of patchwork-materials, scavenged from anywhere possible. Tents made of shabby and gauze-thin materials littered the roads, alleys, and bazaars where tables and wooden booths were impossible to keep together due to the fact if it wasn’t nailed down or too heavy to move, it would be stolen.

Merchants barked their wares to anyone passing them. In the lower districts, they sold nearly rotten meats, stale and partly moldy breads and cheeses as well as fruit that only looked fresh and edible, but one didn’t start encountering that until the Nineteenth District. If Iliana wanted food, she’d eat at the Bartered Soul, whose reputation outshone all but a few of the others in the district, or eat someone in the higher districts.

One of the Thorns opened the door to a rundown building, much like the one she’d used originally when Darkflower had first approached her through his minions. It smelled of mildew, mold, and dust. It looked even worse. The sound of squeaking followed by skittering feet told her rats lived in this particular warehouse; which explained the distinct, rancid odor that could only belong to the vermin. She hoped they were only rats and not the wererats that were said to inhabit the older, more rundown buildings.

Following the Thorn in front of her down a set of rickety stairs, she felt her own unease growing. Something about the pair didn’t set right; the last time there had been more Thorns escorting her the closer they neared Darkflower’s domain. So far, she hadn’t seen any but this pair. It didn’t help that the one leading was a powerful magic user, a wizard or sorceress, perhaps.

Iliana also hated the fact they were in total darkness, which mean the pair escorting her were either pure blood elves, or half-elves. Yet again she thanked her bean sidhe blood for allowing her to see in total darkness, otherwise, she’d be panicking.

Fortunately, they soon neared a door. The figure leading them paused and Iliana felt the familiar essence of magic being used. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end and she forced herself to remain relaxed and unconcerned. Especially when she noticed the fine edge of silver that defined the outline of a portal.

Oh, hells, this can’t be good, she groaned inwardly. She knew the pair wouldn’t answer, but she couldn’t prevent herself from asking, “You aren’t really Thorns, are you?” Silence. The “Thorn” didn’t even bother to look at her. No surprise there. “Didn’t think so.”

The door opened and she felt herself shoved forward unexpectedly. Bloody hells, I’m going to…

She trailed off as she swirled around to face the Thorn only to realize there was carpet under her feet, a dim lighting reminiscent the perfect image of an ancient study, and walls covered with beautiful artwork.

Turning, she focused her attention on the man sitting behind the desk and couldn’t help but smile her appreciation of the handsome, dark-skinned elf that was studying her as a scientist studies a new specimen. Beneath a microscope while holding a scalpel. At least he wasn’t holding anything in his steepled fingers. Yet.

Iliana knew the elf before her was a docelfar; his power and magical aura was too much like that of Darkflower’s and the rare few other docelfar she had met. She also knew that the docelfar weren’t the nice, kind, charitable type of elf, either. Unless you included their charitable acts of stabbing they friends and enemies in the backs when it suited them. Iliana always thought of the docelfar as being similar to the mafia, with the exception being women ran them and the head honcho was titled “empress” instead of “don”.

There was also the fact that the docelfar put the Mafia to shame when it came to scheming, backstabbing, treachery, and secrecy. And that was just the tip of the proverbial iceberg.

The man before her, most certainly had the presence and bearing of a Mafia Don. Including the cold stare and amused Mona Lisa-type smile. She couldn’t prevent herself from raising her own brows in query as she waited for him to speak.

Halloween-themed Art

2009-10-26T07:32:00.000-07:00

Right, so, I did these for the contest over at Daz3d in one of the forum's. I'm sure something else will spring to mind and I'll have yet another entry or two to enter before Halloween. :) anywhos, figured I'd post some of the ones I've done for the heck of it.. for those who like my art...

Also, I might add that everything (except for the morphs I used for M3 & V3) are freebie items. No easy feat to accomplish, I assure you!!! Especially when you're picky about wanting to have everything PERFECT.

Musical Offering

Cemetery Serenade

The Flutist

Another Teaser from Banshee's Daughter

2009-10-20T07:53:00.000-07:00

Right, so, I figured I'd post a bit more from the new WiP. It picks up a few paragraphs after the prior Teaser and continues to the end of the chapter. So far, I've only managed to get 4,800 words written, but... oh well. My miniature monsters come first. (Doesn't help that I haven't felt up to writing, nor has Mark.)

Besides, I've got a few contests for digital art to enter before Halloween. Who knows, maybe I might actually win something. If not, at least I'll have tried...

Anywhos, here's the teaser. Enjoy!

***********************************

It may have been small, but the spells inscribed on the pages gave it a distinct flavor and the smirk faded into a puzzled frown. It was powerful, written by a powerful immortal witch or sorcerer, but it held the distinct tangy mixture of Dark and Light magic. Definitely an oddity for few immortals delved in both types of magic and the rare mortal that could control magic, typically weren’t taught anything other than benign witchcraft that had little power in any world.

Banshees were one type, but it didn't have the usual feel of the bean sidhe. As she turned it in her hands, rubbing her thumb along the locked clasp, she considered the type of magic imbued in the leather. The more she thought on it, the more it felt like the rare few books that had been written by the elves. Though, all the other books she'd held were books of Light magic, not Dark. Except for the one her great-aunt had shown her when she was five.

Dear gods, did one of the damned docelfar magic books get stolen and brought to the mortal realms for 'safe keeping' by some crazed mortal? Or, worse yet, another immortal? If it were another immortal, they would know who had retrieved the spell book and would, undoubtedly, be looking for her. It also explained her employer's interest, as well as the reward he had offered if she succeeded.

No sooner than the thought had come to life than the feel of magic indicating someone materializing washed over her followed by several branches breaking. Glancing over her shoulder, she snickered as she saw three men clad in black jeans, shirts, and jackets plowing their way through a thicket of briers. Whoever had sent them, hadn’t known the terrain, but that didn't mean she was going to be able to simply sit here and wait for the three goons to catch her and steal away her prize.

Leaping over the rocks, she ran her finger across the latch and spat out a single word to open it. Fortunately, between her power as a sidhe and the book being in the mortal realms, it clicked open and the pages unfurled.

Racing through the field and towards the dilapidated and abandoned buildings that had once been houses, Iliana held the book with one hand as her right flipped through the pages, allowing her magic to find the right spell by touch alone. The next time she saw her cousin Colin, she'd thank him for forcing her to learn that talent.

Glancing down as she raced towards the gravel road overgrown by weeds, short saplings, and wild rose bushes, she read the words for teleporting, giving the destination as Nid Tir, more commonly called the Dimension Depot, due to the trains that could take a person anywhere in the mortal realms, space, or immortals lands.

The all-too-familiar feeling of being swept onto a tilt-a-whirl flooded over her, the greenery vanished in a swirl worse than a child's finger-painting and was replaced by the orange-red of the barren land of Nid Tir. Even worse was the fact that Iliana had spoken the words as she was running and, like most teleportation spells, she was still moving as she materialized in Nid Tir. It wouldn't have been so bad had she also not been dropped in the middle of the giant wasteland of soil mounds.

Picking herself up off the ground after tripping over one of the mutant anthills, that fortunately did not house ants or anything else, Iliana dusted the orange-brown sand-like dirt from her clothes and closed the magic book.
That is the absolute last time I read anything from an unknown leather-bound book while running, Iliana fumed silently as she thumped the book against her hip before sliding it into a hip pocket.

Staring across the barren landscape of small hills and knolls, Iliana shrugged and started trudging across the dunes that ranged from waist-high anthills to small rounded knolls. She would have preferred using her usual spell to whisk her to one of the small, hidden colonies tucked safely in the mountains between Swoope, Virginia and Sugar Grove, West Virginia, and catching a train from there. Unfortunately, whoever had hidden the book, or someone else who knew of its location, had sent those three goons after her and, well, desperate times called for desperate measures.

After what seemed like hours, though she suspected it was more like minutes since time was different in Nid Tir, she finally found the train tracks that led to and from one of the stations. Unfortunately, each train was labeled for her home realm.

Iliana didn't want to return to Staunton, Waynesboro, or even Richmond. She had to go to Fellhaven and hand the book over to her employer before the goons figured out where she had went; especially since whoever had sent them to get the book probably also knew about the Dimension Depot.

Why hadn't she listened to her mother and become an accountant?

Banshee's Daughter

2009-10-13T07:39:00.000-07:00

My shiny new WiP. It's coming along very nicely and I'm editing as I go... except I didn't get to edit last night. Too much to do and not enough time to do it in. ah, well, c'est la vie!

Here's the first snippet of it, and this time I'm not posting that much.

Enjoy!!!

**************************

Arms bent slightly and crossed at the wrists, Iliana bent backwards a few inches, her left leg posed as though she were going to take a step forward, her auburn hair swaying in the light breeze. A classic pose of a belly dancer, Iliana could have appeared to be practicing the sensual dance her petite form would have been perfect for. Except for the three-headed hydra in front of her that was rearing backwards preparing to unleash it's breath attack.

Despite the fear coiling like serpents in her stomach, Iliana instead kept her blue eyes fixed upon the hydra as she began chanting the soft, melodic words to a spell. Elvish, a distant cousin to Welsh, was a sing-song language dead to all but the sidhe and was the only language magic could be worked in. The fire and ice feel of magic flowed through Iliana's veins and burst from her palms, streaking across the short distance to the hydra. Before the monster could release an attack, it vanished, revealing a very irritated dragon.

Clenching her teeth, Iliana slid backwards a few steps, flexing her fingers, but not lowering her arms. Instead of an attack, the dragon peered closely at Iliana before streaking upwards and vanishing. Dropping her arms, not sensing anything else, Iliana strode forward to the pile of rocks at the base of the large oak tree. She had no clue what had just happened, but questioning it wasn't in her nature. Some questions, she had learned the hard way, were best not answered. Especially when they involved the fey, magic, and mythical beasts long believed imaginary.

Iliana knew better, but only because her mother was a banshee banished from Braesil, an island off Ireland where the sidhe and other fairy folk live. During her youth, she'd had the annoying problem of screaming and then having the dead rising from their graves. It would've been a delightful Halloween trick, or even a fun prank to pull at a funeral, but not in the front yard of a friend's house or at a high school football game.

Having a legion of undead pets and farm animals, not to mention the roadkill, suddenly walking around isn't a very good thing. Especially when you end up being forbidden to even consider uttering a screech or be sent to some unknown island where one day island-time equals one-year in the mortal world. At least it only happened twice and neither time no one noticed except for her mother.

Mortals were not supposed to know of the magical creatures that walked amongst them. It had already occurred once and being the cause for another round of witch hunts would not end prettily, especially when the witches hadn't, yet, recovered from it.
Everyone knew the government had a lousy retirement plan and even worse health insurance. The pay wasn't that great, either. Besides, who wanted to end up as a science experiment for the government?

Iliana was her mother's daughter, except for being a professional thief. Her mother and a fairy tutor who called herself a baba yaga, who was far prettier than the Slavic myths claimed, trained her in magic from early childhood. Though Iliana had asked her mother how she had managed to get another fey to train her, she'd never received an answer. Banshees could keep secrets better than any one else, mortal or immortal.

Crouching at the edge of the rocks, Iliana wrinkled her nose at the sooty smell and heat that radiated from the departed dragon. She suspected that someone had placed the dragon here, cast an illusion on it to make it appear to be a hydra to further frighten people away, and it had been released by her spell. She suspected whoever chained the dragon to this pile of rocks and tree was going to be a quick snack. Angry dragons were not fun playmates.

More from Heiress

2009-10-06T07:37:00.000-07:00

Since it's still in editing, kinda, I figured I'd post another fav scene here. :) It's after Xandra meets Segav's father and she asks Segav what his family name is... They're in one of the hidden rooms at the Guild talking and asking questions they'd rather not have their classmates know. Enjoy!!!

***************************

“Alright.” Segav seemed relieved. “What… is… your sponsor? I mean, he’s obviously a docelfar and a pretty terrifying wizard, but how did he come to partially own an assassin’s guild? What does he do? Well, I mean, what does he do for a living?”

“Oh.” Xandra had worried that the questions would be all about Great-Father. He dominated so much of her life, and one of the benefits of keeping her relatives secret was that she wouldn’t have to lie about him. With Segav, it was somehow disappointing for him to not ask for her secrets.

“Great-Father has done many things, and still does. He’s been alive for over a millennia, I’m told. I don’t know everything he’s done to gain all that he has…” Xandra trailed off, not wanting to say aloud that she never wanted to know.

“That’s okay, Ali,” Segav said, his voice soothing. When Xandra giggled, he forgot his next long, drawn-out question in favor of a simple “What?”

Xandra found she couldn’t look at Segav, but spoke regardless. “That’s what Father calls Mother… ‘Aly.’ I’ve never been called that before.”

“Oh.” Segav blushed deeply. Xandra could not remember ever seeing him blush that much.

“What is it?” She asked, trying not to giggle.

“I just… didn’t mean to…” Segav stammered. “Your mother’s name is Alixandra, too?”

“No, her name is Alyssiana.” Xandra explained. “A-L-Y-S-S-I-A-N-A. So, she’s called ‘Aly’- A-L-Y. At least, she is by my father, and sometimes by her siblings and Great-Father, of course.”

Segav did not outwardly respond to this. Instead, he asked another short question. “Why do you call your sponsor ‘Great-Father’?”

Xandra, still felling a little giddy from Segav calling her the same affectionate name her mother had, even if it was spelled differently, giggled again at his lack of understanding.

“Because he’s my great-grandfather, of course!” She said, still smiling.

Segav felt the blood drain from his face. Oh, I didn’t want to hear that.

He tried to swallow the panic which that fact had lodged in his throat, and when he noticed how Xandra’s eyes were now sparkling as she looked at him, he found it much easier to do.

Thinking carefully, forming another, intelligent question, he was alarmed to hear his voice speak the words, in a numbed, dreary tone, “Oh, well that explains a great deal.”

He had known that was a terrible thing to say, he could not believe his traitorous mouth had uttered the words. He waited for the terrible reaction; Xandra’s face suddenly looking as though he had slapped it, the hurt in her beautiful eyes…

Xandra threw her head back and laughed. When she looked at him, and spoke words that filled him with relief, she was still smiling in the way that lit her whole face.

“It does, doesn’t it? He’s always been so protective of me, at least as long as I can remember! It gets to be irritating, and hard to deal with.”

“Well, yes, of course it would!” was all that Segav could think to say.

He tried to fathom what kind of a childhood he would have had if his life included such a terrifying, dangerous being in it: Worse still, if it had been a blood relative.

Xandra had never struck him as really evil; she was mischievous, certainly, but docelfar blood meant that the ability for unbelievable cruelty lay in the blood.

No wonder she is studying to be an assassin, and has so much ability at our age, Segav thought, and how could someone so beautiful be like the man that terrorized our classroom, and then my dorm quarters?

“This is just a guess,” Segav ventured, “but your great-grandfather taught you some things before making sure you got into this Guild, didn’t he?”

“I had to pass my examination test, same as everyone does.” Xandra said, and there was a little resentment in her voice.

Wonderful, Segav chastised himself, if I keep going on foolishly, perhaps I should spare us both and have the alchemy tutor poison me!

“But, yes,” she continued, “Great-Father had already tutored me in some unusual weapons, as well as some alchemy, spell-casting, chess, strategy, how to properly kill someone from behind with a dagger, and picking locks. My mother taught me to move silently- Father couldn’t, really, he’s part human – and how to climb just about anything. Father mostly taught me how to hunt, and hand-to-hand combat, how to fight with every weapon we had around the house, he also encouraged my brother and me to learn music-”

“Wait,” Segav pleaded with Xandra, his head still dizzy from the over-abundance of information. His mind grasped at the first skills she had mentioned that had startled him.

“You know how to mix chemicals and cast spells?” he asked, making a mental note to try and get her to teach him about the weapons she was fluent with, as well as how to back-stab: They weren’t supposed to learn that at the Guild for another two years!

“Sure, I just said Great-Father taught me that; didn’t I?” Xandra giggled again.

“Could you… could you show me something?” Segav was already feeling like a small child next to her.

Gods, she knows so much! He thought.

The urge to see proof, and simple curiosity, won out over his other feelings.

“Of course!” Xandra exclaimed gleefully. She looked around for something. “Let me see what I can… ah!”

Leaning to her left, she pointed at the side of the bookshelf that was close to them. Segav did not understand, and then his keen eyes noticed a small spider crawling along the outer plank of the bookshelf. Xandra hurried over to it and swatted the spider with her bare hand. She cupped her hand and walked over to him; the cupped hand held up in front of him. When she was only two feet away from him, he could see the corpse of the spider. It lay, curled up and belly exposed, on her soft palm.

Bringing her other hand above the one holding the spider, Xandra winked at Segav. Then, she looked down and whispered something towards her hands. The empty hand began to glow a sickening green in the center of her palm, and she cupped this hand over the one with the spider, making a shape like a ball. There was a brilliant flash of the same sickening green light between the fingers, and then nothing.

Moving the top hand away, Xandra revealed the spider, now looking whole and standing upright on its eight tiny legs. It did not move, however, until Xandra’s free hand gestured. The spider moved in the direction her hand moved: Up her arm, back down her arm, and then, when she knelt down and placed the hand holding the spider against the floor, across the floorboards until she stopped gesturing.

The look on his face must have shown some of the awe and horror he felt; when Xandra looked at him expectedly, she almost immediately frowned in disappointment.

“What’s the matter? That wasn’t impressive enough?” She asked him, a twinge of hurt in her voice.

“That’s… that’s necromancy!” He blurted, unable to stop himself.

“Oh, just a little bit… not even that much. It’s a fairly common spell used by wizards and priests to raise a familiar,” Xandra said, sounding like she was trying to make light of it all. “Really, Segav, it’s not used on humans, or elves, or anything like that. I’m not that good at it, either. I can’t raise so much as a bird; only insects.”

“Right… of course,” Segav said, trying to will himself to believe that what she had done was as innocent as the tone in her voice, and the look in her eyes. He was starting to believe it. He was.

“Well, how about this?” Xandra asked, and then she turned back to the spider and pointed. A cone of blue magic shot from her fingertip, flew towards the spider, and engulfed it. Nothing remained when the glow faded from the floorboard.

“Brilliant!” Segav cheered.

State Fair Announcement

2009-10-05T09:34:00.000-07:00

Ok, so I should've posted this last week or even over the weekend... but the weekend was wickedly busy. I think I was online for a total of three, maybe four hours tops. If you include checking my email on my cellphone.

Anywhos, I figured I'd at least post the results of the state fair. I won second place with my cherub! WEEEE!!! I now have a total of THREE ribbons from the state fair! Third Place from the first year I entered, 1st place from last year, and 2nd place from this year. I got my wish! I placed again this year. Now, all I need is the Rosette from Best in Show/Section. I've got an idea for next year, so maybe if I'm lucky it'll turn out all pretty and I'll get my rosette. Or, maybe I can somehow improve my artistic non-computer-generated-art-side and do something really spectacular and win it that way. (Yes, yes, I know... not likely, but one can wish, yes?)

I know I posted my cutesy cherub once, but I figured I'd post it again for those who haven't seen it yet. :)

Seeing this, yet again, I can easily see why it didn't take first place, but... second place isn't too bad, in my opinion. Not at the VA STATE FAIR!

Me & My Co-Writer

2009-09-29T09:40:00.000-07:00

Since I talk about him enough, I figured I'd post a picture. To put a face with the name. :D

This is me and Mark taken at my cousin's funeral home when my grandfather passed away. For some reason, funerals and weddings are more like family get-togethers than anything else. At least at the "receiving" part. Yes, we are a very weird family. Which explains a lot about my writing....

Teaser Tuesday - Gifts of the Gods

2009-09-29T09:26:00.001-07:00

Ok, so this is a scene from "Gifts of the Gods". Aeryn, the daughter of Shamazu (the Goddess of Fire and Lust) has just met Baudin and they've gone out for a day/night of fun. So, they go to a nice little restaurant to eat where a former patron of the Orexis where Aeryn works as a hostess, decides to intrude. A fight breaks out involving Baudin, Grunk (a half-orgre) and a bunch other patrons. Baudin tells Aeryn to scram, which she does reluctantly. The following is what happens after Aeryn leaves the restaurant.

************************

She had taken only a dozen short steps from the restaurant when a high-pitched, arrogant female voice demanded, "Where d'ya think to be going, ya trallop?"

"Trallop?" Aeryn asked in amusement, "There's a name I haven't been called before."

"Think yer boy can start a mess with my beloved Grunk an' win, do ya?" The petite blond, dressed in a faux silk white top and dark blue breeches, walked around to face her. "Well, he fights for my honor, ya trollop, and will win in my name!"

Aeryn raised a brow, "Actually, if you desire to place blame, place it upon the lout that interrupted our dinner." She sighed extravagantly, much as she had heard her mother do before Shamazu unleashed her terror upon a mortal or fellow deity. "Thank you for that information. Since your beloved Grunk is now fighting the entire restaurant for your supposed 'honor,' you should be quite happy."

"Oh, he's goin' to walk out of there, tall and proud!" The smaller woman declared. "Gonna be holding your handsome friend's head for a souvenir! How der ya like that?"

"Shall we stand here and wait for that, then?" Aeryn answered sardonically. "Perhaps there is a nearby tavern we can grab a drink while we wait for the glorious return of Grunk?"

The blonde began to smile, then her expression became sour again.

"Ya'r mocking me an' my Grunk, aren't ya?" She demanded accusingly. "I knew ya needed to have the smart knocked out of ya- that's why I'm here!"

Why do they always want to fight? Aeryn sighed inwardly. They always claim it is for 'honor', but most wouldn't know what it was if it stabbed them in the heart.

"We aren't waiting for Grunk to emerge to fight, once again, for your 'honor?' Can you be sure that he'd want that?" Aeryn quizzed, keeping her smirk carefully concealed.

The woman looked confused, but this expression was also fleeting, replaced by the sour expression.

"Are you fighting for your Grunk's 'honor,' then?" Aeryn's voice sounded mischievous to her own ears. But she could not help it; this fool practically begged for a lesson in reality.

"Don't mock us!" The woman screamed in a shrill voice, and charged.

Aeryn bent her knees, pivoted her torso, and waited. When the woman's arms were about to grab Aeryn's hair, Aeryn threw her right fist in between the woman's breasts. Impacting fully against her adversary's sternum, Aeryn knocked the woman two steps back from her. Gasping, the woman's arms crossed her chest, as if she could gather breath into her lungs.

"That's just a taste, fool." Aeryn warned. "Now, go sit down and wait for your pet."

Still gasping, the woman stumbled towards the restaurant. Aeryn waited, not taking her eyes off the petite blonde. Her adversary stopped after a few uneven steps, and bent over, facing away from Aeryn.

When the blonde woman straightened back up, she turned, face red and still trying for normal breath. She held a long dagger in her right hand, and was making her uneasy way back to Aeryn.

"I don't want to know where you kept that hidden." Aeryn observed. The woman swung the blade before she was close enough to even have a chance of using it against Aeryn.

Aeryn stepped in, catching the woman's weapon arm easily with her left hand. She struck with her right, breaking the cartilage at the woman's elbow viciously. The arm bent unnaturally outward; the dagger fell from limp fingers and a high, piercing scream cut the air, nearly deafening Aeryn. She silenced the woman with a punch to the throat. Stepping back, she removed her hands, and watched the blonde adversary crumple to the ground, choking.

The front of the restaurant exploded; glass and wood flew around Aeryn. As the debris settled, the form of the half-ogre could be seen, carrying two thin humans that Aeryn did not recognize. Grunk, who was cut, bruised and bleeding, wobbled precariously on his legs. He was nearly blind; his left eye was swollen shut and blood from a scalp wound poured into his right. A few steps behind him walked Baudin. He was a little scuffed, a little dirty, but he walked upright and was smiling. He brushed dirt from his sleeves as he spotted Aeryn.

The half ogre bellowed in rage. He was looking at the petite blonde, who had passed out. Her throat was swollen, but she was alive. Grunk dropped the two men he had been carrying. Aeryn presumed they were servers from the restaurant, due to the clothing they wore. Grunk turned and looked at Aeryn, his unreasoning rage focused on her.

Aeryn sighed, and drew upon the mystical energy around her. Holding both hands in front of her, she unleashed a wall of fire, roasting the half ogre from throat to knees. The smell of roasting meat filled her nostrils, but she still poured on the flame.

When she ceased, the half ogre's corpse was still standing, although all muscle and flesh had been burned to bone from his thighs to his breastbone. Grunk's body finally collapsed, falling away from the petite blonde. Bone and spine snapped loudly at his hit the ground. The woman began to stir; her hair burned in places, and one eyebrow singed away.

Aeryn looked quickly to Baudin, afraid of what his reaction might be. He was, she saw with relief, smiling and nodding appreciatively to her. She smiled nervously back at him before walking over to the fried corpse.

It took two of the strongest kicks she could muster, and a great deal of pulling with her arms, but Aeryn managed to free the half-ogre's head from the rest of his body. She dropped it, unceremoniously, into the lap of the waking woman. The woman blinked, trying to comprehend what was in her lap.

"Something for you to curl up with at night, while you dream your fantasies of honor," Aeryn spat.

Artwork in Fair - Cherub

2009-09-26T16:24:00.000-07:00

Well, the other two I did I had to take photos of, and of course they are at home still on the camera. However, this is the digital art I did and entered. Opinions are, of course, welcome! :D

Teaser Tuesday - A Quiet Scene...

2009-09-22T07:33:00.000-07:00

As requested, here's a quiet scene. Xandra has been cajoled into going with her brother to a political event, a dinner party. Since Xandra hates anything to do with politics or being 'proper', she typically keeps away from them for fear of damaging her brother's career...something about being an assassin... anyways, after the whole fiasco with Segav's foot being turned into a treestump and her angering Xantos, she accepts her brother's offer. She's pretty bored until another politician approaches her and starts up a conversation. He suggests a walk in the garden, and she accepts... She suspects there's more to this politician who's probably older than her parents than what he's telling/showing, but she likes him anyway.

So, here's the scene, with them in the garden after they talk about her brother a bit.

*******

“You are most fortunate to have parents as well as grandparents who love you enough to ensure you receive the fullest education possible.” Eronous stated, as Xandra bent slightly to sniff a single white rose. Respectfully, she kept eye contact with Eronous as their conversation continued.

“Great-Father is our only other living relative in Deltheya, unless you include our gods-parents and adopted uncle. We have aunts and uncles in Faedale, though, who are Mother’s brothers and sisters.” Xandra replied calmly, though it was a task to keep her voice calm and steady.

She turned towards Eronous and tilted her head to the side. “What we are most fortunate for is the fact that not our mother, father, or great-grandfather have attempted to tell us which career path we should take. We have been given that choice freely, unlike many children who are forced to follow in their parents’ footsteps.” She turned and added, “Or forced to follow in the path another deems fit.”

The fierceness which Xandra spoke must have caught Eronous off guard, for she sensed his whole body stiffen. It was a long moment before he spoke.

“Your brother chose the political arena. What arena have you chosen, Alixandra?” Eronous said softly, but his voice carried to her ears easily.

When she glanced up from examining the soft petals of a lavender rose, she was startled to find Eronous standing behind her, looking over her head at the soft flower in her hand. She had not heard his steps and she had been trained early to listen and hear what most could not.

He stated calmly, “The beauty of the flower will never match the beauty that will one day be yours.”

Suddenly feeling flustered and uncertain, she responded to his former question, quickly dropping her hand away from the base of the bloom. “I haven’t yet chosen a path to follow.”

She wasn’t about to tell this stranger that she wanted to be an assassin. That she wanted to learn from Great-Father and he encouraged her training at the guild. It was something she loved. But tell this high elf of stature that she was training at a guild for assassins? And chance damaging her brother’s chosen career? Never.

She moved away from Eronous, in an attempt to distance herself. However, he moved with a silence that she only hoped to accomplish. Not even his voluminous robes made a whisper as he moved. She could only sense his presence, nothing more. It was, undoubtedly, unnerving.

“Ah, you are but in the start of becoming an adult. Had I not rebelled against my family and left to carve my name out on my own and become that which I am today, I believe I would have chosen the path of a rogue; a thief, perhaps.” He replied, as he pulled a blood-red rose towards him and inhaled the fragrance.

Xandra looked up at the blue-gray eyes and smiled slightly, “The laws that govern the thieves are as dangerous to the unwary as the laws which rule those who desire to be in politics. The only difference being death comes quicker to the unwary thief than it does to the powerful politician.”

“Unless one becomes the target of an assassin; in which case, no matter the chosen profession, the unwary becomes a corpse quickly and without another thought.” Eronous added softly.

“What do you know of assassins?” Xandra snapped, immediately regretting her tone.

“The same as everyone, my dear. Even I have been a target of the occasional assassin. Everyone with power is always prone to the whimsy desires of those beneath them who desire to usurp their position through their target’s death.”

Xandra thought to the story of her maternal grandfather’s death. He had been victim to an assassination. Her mother had been forced to assassinate her father’s mother as a child by none less than Xantos at the tender age of ten. She, herself, was training to become an assassin. It was in her blood; her inheritance from her family. Her thoughts were mirrored on her face and she felt a hand on her shoulder.

She looked up to see an expression of compassion and understanding on Eronous’s face. It was an expression seldom seen from her great-grandfather but seen often on her parents’ faces.

“You have felt the pain inflicted caused by one who has perished at an assassin’s hands?”

Xandra shook her head slowly, “No, but I know of some who have and they still feel the pain of those deaths even now, despite the years, decades, that have passed.”

The hand squeezed her shoulder slightly, before slipping beneath her arm until her hand rested, once more, on his forearm. “That pain never dies, it only lessens; unless one is cold-hearted and cares for none but themselves. Assassins are, in my humble opinion, cold-hearted bastards who care for none but themselves. They would have to be jaded, else they would fall victim to their demons invoked by their deeds.”

Xandra thought of Alden and found it difficult to believe he was jaded but then, he did work for Great-Father and if truth be told, he was not always kind and gentle.

She shrugged lightly, “You speak as though assassins are close to your heart.”

Eronous laughed softly, “No, dear lady, they are not. But I have lived long and have seen those assassins who have been taken by those who enforce laws. They are hardened criminals who appear to care for nothing but their own skin. Unlike you, I have had someone taken from me by an assassin’s blade; it is not something I would wish upon anyone.”

Xandra chuckled ruefully, “You were right; most here would be very much appalled by our conversation.” She glanced up into his eyes and noticed they were very clear yet hid his thoughts perfectly. She opened her mouth to continue, but was instead broken off by the voice of her brother.

Dinner in a Pumpkin

2009-09-17T16:37:00.000-07:00

Here's the recipe. You can tweak it however you want. I usually leave out the mushrooms and water chestnuts, though I might add 'em in this year... maybe. Anywhos, hope you enjoy it!!!

Disclaimer: this is not MY recipe, I got it from one of my mother's old cookbooks.

Dinner in a Pumpkin

1 small to medium pumpkin

1 onion, chopped

2 tablespoons veg. Oil

1 ½ to 2 lbs ground beef

2 tablespoons soy sauce

2 tablespoons brown sugar

1 (4-oz) can sliced mushrooms, drained

1 (10 ¾ oz) can cream-of-chicken-soup

1 ½ cups cooked rice

1 (8 oz) can sliced water chestnuts, drained

cut off top of pumpkin and thoroughly clean out seeds and pulp. Pain on an appropriate face on front of pumpkin with permanent marker or acrylic pen. Preheat oven to 350F. In a large skillet, sauté onion in oil until tender. Add meat and brown. Drain drippings from skillet. Add soy sauce, brown sugar, mushrooms, and soup. Simmer 10 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add cooked rice and water chestnuts. Spoon mixture into the cleaned pumpkin shell. Replace pumpkin top and place entire pumpkin, with filling, on a baking sheet. Bake 1 hour or until inside meat of the pumpkin is tender. Put pumpkin on a plate. Remove pumpkin lid and serve meal.

Teaser Tuesday Retake

2009-09-15T12:01:00.000-07:00

Ok, since I've been told I posted the other scene prior, I'll post this one.... another scene with Xantos, but with Xandra and Segav.

This is after the Budtrizz debacle. Xandra has just broken into Segav's room to rid herself of her 'boredom'. Xantos, watching, decides to pay the pair a visit and terrify them both. (Just FYI: Xantos killed off Aly's suitors prior to Aly meeting Xolyn... Aly and Xolyn are Xandra's parents.)

Since I'm lazy, I'm going to post what we use for our query, since it's a pretty good one for the background:

Alixandra Dredbourne is not a typical apprentice. Unlike most at the assassins guild, she excels at not only her lessons, but at breaking the rules. Alixandra believes that her greatest challenges are to escape the shadows of her famous royal bloodline, garner the attention of a young man she fancies, and try to keep boredom at bay while completing her training. Her pension for mischief and mayhem changes when someone starts assassinating the Royal Family. Frustrated by what she sees as a lack of concern or action, Alixandra decides that her budding knowledge of Necromancy may be the salvation of her family.

As her mother’s siblings are picked off one-by-one, Alixandra searches for a way to help. When her mother, a ranger of legends with considerable skills and power, is attacked, Alixandra realizes she is no match for a trained, professional assassin. Worse yet, the assassin will be targeting her brother next. In desperation, Alixandra makes a deal with a demon, but the price may cost Alixandra not only her soul, but also the lives of her family. Will she be able to save her family from not only a professional assassin, but the demon as well? Nothing ever comes without a price and Alixandra soon realizes the price is often more than you intended to pay.

The Scene:

Cautiously, Xandra raised her hand and brushed it along his cheek and into his hair, her eyes moving from his to the hair her hand was entwining itself into. She found herself moving towards Segav, and was elated to see that he was doing the same: Moving in for the second kiss.

Gods, the earth is moving… Xandra thought dreamily, feeling her whole body trembling. In Segav’s eyes, she saw the same things she was feeling: Excitement, desire, anticipation… fear? His eyes were growing far too wide, and the next realization hit her like a Dwarven war hammer. The earth shouldn’t be moving this much!

The whole room was trembling, and for all she knew, the entire school might be shaking. Small items; an inkwell, scraps of parchment, discarded clothing and such, fell from Segav’s desk and dresser. It was becoming more and more difficult to remain standing, and Xandra felt Segav grab her protectively, trying to keep her upright even as he fought to stand. His eyes were staring at something behind her, in the direction of the window. Xandra turned to look.

A sphere of hellish fire was hovering at mid-level in front of the window, within the room. It was already three feet in diameter and growing; from Segav’s reaction, Xandra surmised that it had appeared when the tremors first started, and grew larger as the tremors increased. Stunned and unsure what to do, the young couple watched the sphere grow to over six feet. This made the flames touch the bed linens and the wooden walls, but nothing charred or caught fire.

Magic fire, Xandra realized. The kind most used for a portal…but who could it be?

A pair of eyes became distinguishable within the swirling orange, red and green flames. They were orange eyes, angry eyes, and yes, familiar eyes.

This is going to be very, very bad, Xandra thought before the sphere exploded, sending the multi-colored flames to each corner of the room and washing over Segav and Xandra. Her eyes snapped shut instinctually, to prevent the glare from the explosion from blinding her eyes.

The explosion was accompanied by a single “pop” of noise that would not draw attention to the room. If the rest of the dormitories had shaken as Segav’s room had, no one would be in a position to notice a sound that registered no louder than a beaker shattering.

Xandra’s eyes opened with that sound. What she saw garnered mixed emotions: Great-Father, Xantos, was standing where the sphere had been; wisps of green and orange smoke wafting up from his body and long hair. His orange eyes were blazing at her. The room appeared to have suffered no further damage.

She looked away and found Segav glaring at her great-grandfather. She wondered at his courage, and then looked back to Xantos. The tone she knew would be there, casual and non-threatening, came from her great-grandfather’s lips.

“I don’t recall allowing you leave from my house, Xandra. I am certain the guild’s laws still forbid young girls breaking into the boys’ dormitory, no matter if the offenders are familiar with each other.”

“The laws be damned.” Segav spoke before Xandra could begin to answer. “Xandra is welcome at my quarters whenever she wishes, as she well knows.”

No, I didn’t know that! Xandra’s surprised mind exclaimed. Unfortunately, her face expressed this thought, and she fought to remove all traces from her features before her great-grandfather could discern what she was thinking.

“That changes nothing,” Xantos said dryly, “as you do not make the rules of the Guild. As for disciplinary action for such behavior, I don’t think the Guild will punish you properly. It falls to me, then. Are you prepared?”

“We can’t break the rules of the Guild, but you can alter them any time you wish?” Xandra barked at her relative. Her temper was getting the better of her, and she was not sure if it was because she had been caught, or because Segav was with her.

“When you have risen to the level of power that I have, darling child,” Xantos said with some small measure of impatience, “you may bend the rules of what you claim some ownership to.”

Xandra had no retort for that and when Segav did not comment, she was grateful. Xandra was beginning to suspect that any reply would have dire consequences at this point. The imposing figure of her great-grandfather held his right hand out to her.

“Come, Xandra. I will escort you back to your quarters at my estate. We will discuss any further punishment there.”

Xandra sighed heavily and began to step forward. Segav leapt in front of her, shielding her body from Xantos with his own.

“Any punishment to be given will be laid at my feet, not hers!” Segav yelled. “I shall not let you take her if she wishes to stay!”

Before Xandra could object or try to comprehend this unexpected, heroic gesture from Segav, she watched Xantos gesture, very subtly, with his left hand. The sound of snapping timber drew her eyes to the floor, where large tree roots were springing up from the floor boards. Grabbing Segav at the shoulders, she tried to pull her friend back. Before she could urge his body back more than an inch, the roots wrapped around his left foot.

Segav gasped, and then his teeth snapped together in pain. Within seconds, his left leg had become a part of the roots. It looked, in fact, as if his left leg had transformed into a tiny tree from the hip down. Segav uselessly tried to move back; he was, quite literally, rooted to the spot.

“Great-Father!” Xandra screamed, staring at him in fear and angst. “No! How could you?”

“The boy must learn that courage is useless until tempered with wisdom, and an understanding of one’s adversary.” Xantos explained in the same relaxed tone he had used while torturing and humiliating her now former teacher, Budtrizz.

Blind with anger and ashamed with what she had brought upon Segav, Xandra strode over to her great-grandfather and drove a hand beneath the elder’s robes. She pulled out the same obsidian dagger that Xantos had severed Budtrizz’s left hand with and walked back to Segav.

Falling to her knees in front of the polymorphed left leg, Xandra raised the dagger, preparing to strike down.

Teaser Tuesday - Heiress snippet

2009-09-15T07:46:00.000-07:00

Quick recap on what's going on in my life: Mark has a job at Spirit, a Halloween store, and, well... it's pretty awesome. The kids have colds and my sinuses hate me. all in all, a typical Fall. I've managed to do some actual art (not by the computer, either!) and it's going in the State Fair. We're dropping it off this Saturday. I'll keep ya'll updated and will probably upload pics of what I entered AFTER judging is over.

On to the teaser! This is a snippet from Heiress, and one of my most favorite scenes. Mostly because it's Xantos and he's doing what Xantos does best: torturing some poor idiot. :D

Xantos is Xandra's great-grandfather and owner/founder of the assassins' guild she learns at. The back story is pretty simple: Budtrizz has spent every day harassing Xandra and she hasn't done anything towards him in retribution. Xantos disapproves of her inaction and her attitude towards the class. So, Xantos teaches her how to properly pick a pocket and tells her to tend to the 'problem' or he will. And if he does it, she's gonna be in trouble with HIM. Not a good thing since Xantos is a powerful magic-user (necromancer) and warlord.

So, Xandra has managed to pick Budtrizz's pocket, replace his pocket's contents with caltrops, and get written up for her audacity. She then set his robes on fire before having his beloved plants attempt to strangle him. That's when Xantos entered the classroom and, basically, took over.

Without further ado, the scene:

“One teaches first by example. A student that surpasses expectation is a prize rarely seen by those that instruct. A foolish tongue cannot aid its mewling owner after it has been torn from the mouth it calls home. Perhaps you, oh great scholar, have heard these pillars of truth?”

Budtrizz nodded nervously once before attempting to stiffen his spine further and hold his head a little higher in defiance.

Xantos’s smile widened. “Let us take the rest of today’s lesson to concentrate on those first two truths. The third may be presented in today’s instruction.”

“This is my classroom-” Budtrizz began.

“Perfect,” hissed Xantos, his left hand rising suddenly and sliding in the air above the teacher’s splayed fingers. “We begin.”

Budtrizz yelped in pain. His right hand attempted to clutch his left, and then flew away in reflex. The man looked at the scorched areas on the right hand palm: Areas that were precisely spaced and sized to the rings adorning the left hand fingers of their teacher. The metal of each ring on both hands was now glowing. The smell of burning flesh, strong and pungent, filled the room, sinking into everyone’s nostrils immediately following the glow of the metal. Xantos knew from experience it would stay with them for days.

Xantos remained unaffected by the smell and throbbing heat emanating from the myriad rings that decorated Budtrizz’s fingers. The docelfar sprang from the desk, holding his arms wide as if preparing to embrace each child, his voice the boom of a vengeful tyrant.

“Today’s example, good students: How one’s vanity and pride may be turned against him! See how a simple application of heat transforms petty decoration into a useful instrument of torture.” He turned back to observe the teacher’s “progress.”

Tendrils of greasy smoke drifted from each finger. Budtrizz had thrown his hands wide apart in front of him. His head was tilted back, screams from his open mouth cutting the air.

Xantos leaned towards Segav, who was too fixated on the spectacle to notice. Grabbing the boy at one shoulder, Xantos pulled him closer to the writhing, crying figure behind the desk. He held the boy in place, and spoke to him in the calm, instructive tone of a teacher.

“What do you say, boy? Do you feel educated by this man’s example?”

Segav nodded, making a choking sound deep in his throat. Xantos knew at this closer distance, the smell of cooking skin was worse, pouring down the boy’s throat and threatening his breakfast with promises of an early dismissal.

“Excellent. What enlightenment can you share with the class?” Xantos prompted, still talking in the same, calm voice.

“Do… do not display your weaknesses to others. An enemy more powerful than you will turn them into weapons against you!” Segav choked out.

Gods be damned, Xantos mused, I could learn to tolerate this boy.

Teaser from Prize of the Providers

2009-09-08T08:52:00.000-07:00

Well, this comes later in the novel, towards the end. It doesn't give anything away but was one of my favorite scenes. Ilario, Akiela, Lembec, and Giada are on their way to eliminate one of the problems in the realm (no, not gonna tell who or why, either, lol). Regardless, it's still an amusing scene that comes before some... uh... creepiness. :-D

******

A rustling of wings caught her attention and Akiela jerked her head towards the sound. She laughed softly as a crow landed on the horn of her saddle. The smell of old blood and fresh soap and a hint of some sort of cologne teased her nose. She couldn’t help but smile and run a hand down the bird’s head and shoulders, between his wings to his tail. The bird stretched languidly, before ruffling his feathers and cawing at her in what she perceived as a fairly warm fashion.

Shaking her head a little, she found it amusing that Gardev would choose to appear in such a form. She also wondered why he had appeared, knowing that he wasn’t the ruler of the Strigoi. Though, he was heir to the throne and title.

“Who is that?” Giada all but demanded.

Akiela glanced at Ilario and Lembec, uncertain if she should reply. “A, um, friend.”

“Your ‘um, friend’ might look very tasty roasting over a fire.” Lembec warned. “If you value that person’s life, perhaps you should suggest they come forward in a proper manner.”

“I didn’t invite him!” Akiela exclaimed. “I didn’t even know he was following us, let alone joining us.” She turned her annoyance onto the feathered creature. “You heard them. Best turn yourself and explain why you’re here. I’m certainly not going to be foolish enough to argue with either Lembec or Giada!”

Instead of flying ahead of them, or even onto the ground beside them, the bird swiftly grew and blurred until Gardev was sitting casually on the horn before her, as though it were nothing more than a fence.

“Gardev!” She squeaked, her face burning as she scooted back to put some distance between them, without falling off her mount. “Oh, you have no idea how tempted I am to shove you off your perch!”

“I have better methods in mind,” growled Lembec.

Akiela turned to Lembec, surprised and yet delighted at his words. “No bloodshed, please. At least not while he’s on my horse! And why my horse? Why not Ilario’s?” She directed the last questions to the vampire who was smiling angelically at her.

“That would deny me the delight of your expression and reply.” Gardev replied smoothly; his voice honey-sweet and slow. “I could not pass that up.”

Eyes wide and cheeks burning, Akiela stared at him in complete surprise. Was he... flirting with her?! No, no, that was impossible! Why in the hells would he be flirting with her in front of the three men who could easily kill him?

“Because it is deliciously reckless,” Gardev answered her. She jumped, almost demanding to know how he knew what she was thinking.

Giving Ilario a pleading look, she turned back to Gardev. “So, why are you here? Not enough to protect me, so you thought you’d join in the fun?”

“Oh, I’m bored.” Gardev sighed. “This little travoy of shape-shifters looked like a party of troublemakers and I thought ‘there could be a fun group to follow!’ And so I did.”

“I’m sure,” she replied dryly. “Somehow I find that very difficult to believe, especially since Ilario’s estate is empty, save for Ria.”

“Oh, she is obsessed with getting married, now.” Gardev rolled his eyes. “All she wants to do is talk about your wedding, what you ‘should’ wear, what you ‘must’ have for flowers and music... and then she starts in, inevitably, on what kind of a wedding she and I might have. Really, how long must I tolerate that before seeking some true fun?”

“My, you must really not wish to marry her. Perhaps I should express my concerns to her the next time we talk,” Akiela countered sweetly. “I might forget what you said, if you tell me why you’re truly here. I do know where we’re heading and I’m wondering what part you wish to play in it.”

“He wants what he always wants.” Ilario cut in. “To be where the most attention is being given, and to try and cousin up to the focal point of that attention.”

“Posh,” sniffed Gardev. “You simply covet my silver tongue and god-like physique.” He ran his hands over his well-muscled, lean torso. “Afraid I’ll lure your beloved into some truly exciting night life?”

“More afraid that I’ll wind up carrying your head on a pike before us, should you raise my ire any further,” warned Ilario.

This made Gardev laugh merrily as he rocked back and forth on the tiny saddle horn. His balance was uncanny and superior to an elf. Lunging forward suddenly, he snatched up the blanket that had been rolled up and placed behind Akiela. She had thought he was coming forward to kiss her, and she only relaxed when the smug but charming vampire sat back against the horn and wrapped the blanket around him.

“There. Is this less... intimidating?” Gardev teased.

Fun, Exciting, GOOD News!!!

2009-09-03T13:28:00.001-07:00

YAY!!!! The ad that I did for my workplace was approved and will be used in the booklet/magazine for the conference my workplace is sponsering! This is, to be perfectly honest, the first piece of work that I've done NOT connected in any way shape or form to anything my beloved has done.

Ok, well, maybe not the FIRST. I did do the picture for Jammerz, but it wasn't a paid commission or anything. Even if it was very much appreciated and loved by them. :-) It's always awesome to see your artwork on display in a busy store. :-D

Anywhos, it was approved by the superiors here at my job and was also approved by the marketing people at the conference. AND, here's the best part (at least for me!): everyone here LOVED it! I might also get lucky enough to be able to do MORE stuff for my workplace.

Yes, it's bragging, and it's not anything to do with writing, but it's something awesome and fun. And very, very close to my heart. Just like writing. (It also helped spark my creative muse yet again.)

Anywhos, that's my good news... at least the good news I'm willing to broadcast out across the internet, lol. The other good news is more boring or more of the iffy/maybe kind in reference to the current state of my querying. Posting your stats, in my opinion, is begging the Fates to come after me with their Harpies.

Oh, and I have also been promised a copy of the booklet/magazine with the ad I did in it. :-)

Teaser Tuesday Teaser

2009-09-01T10:14:00.001-07:00

I've decided to go with the introduction of the main storyline. And yeah, this one is going to end up being a true muder-mystery. (the next time I EVER decide to do a murder mystery, I hope someone will just kill me...)

anywhos....

What's come before: Shyndra has arrived in Valpoor to kill off the High Priest of a temple dedicated to light and knowledge. A good temple in an evil city. After completing her contract (she's an assassin, obviously), she bumps into Alyn, a renowned/infamous mercenary known to be a ladies' man. They go to a tavern for a drink (Alyn, btw, knows who Shyndra is due to his being the childhood friend of the current Guildmistress). There, Shyndra's two cousins and their childhood friends drop in to annoy her. All four men are human and treat Shyndra as though she's a little sister.

That's the general gist of what's come before. So here's the teaser:

Shyndra laughed at Arden, enjoying the familiar feeling of being with her family. Or, more truthfully, the only family she ever loved. Turning to Crau, who was still behind her, she asked, "What injustice brought you four here? I know I won't get anything from those three. They're always forgetting I can take care of myself."

"We... did not presume you wanted to discuss it here," Arden said, with obvious reluctance. He glanced briefly at Alyn. "It is something of a... family matter, after all."

Shyndra's brows furrowed as she turned around to her cousin. "What? Alyn knows about the bounty on my head. Gods, I think everyone at the Guild knows about it by now." She paused, tilting her head to the side. "Have you four been following me? Is that why you're here?"

"The bounty?" Crau leaned forward. "We aren't here for that, although we'd happily volunteer to execute your former betrothed and his mother. No, we are here about your uncle's murder. Isn't that why you are in Valpoor?"

"I was here to complete a contract," Shyndra replied, shaking her head before correcting the Brethren, "It was my mother who placed the bounty on my head. It was in return for leaving Rafis before the priest, taking my dowry, and returning to Fellhaven and my guild."

"Oh, very well done!" Aldryn said, coming more out of his stupor. "That must have been quite a haul."

Turning, her hand sweeping up as though she were going to slap him or pat his cheek, a dagger instead made itself known beneath his chin. She hoped her bluff would not be called as she demanded, "Tell me which uncle before I lose my temper."

"Your uncle Clytus. This is unknown to you?" Crau had lowered his voice further, perhaps to prevent others from hearing their conversation, or to try and calm her. If it were the later, he had failed.

The hand holding the dagger dropped as she turned around, facing Crau completely. "Uncle Clytus? But... but... he was a priest for Dridean," she whispered. She drew a deep breath, returning her dagger to its sheath. "Tell me how and tell me what you have planned."

"We will be infiltrating the temple here in Valpoor, just after the morning meal." Arden began. "He was slain two weeks ago just outside his Rectory. You are truly unaware of these details? You say you have been to the temple? You were not there to take his killer, or seek answers?"

Shyndra sighed and slumped back in her chair. "All four of you know my profession. I was there for the High Priest. I didn't know anything about Uncle Clytus. You four are the only family I've spoken to since leaving Bakaar."

"It seems the Fates have brought you all to this place," observed Alyn. "Shyndra? You will, of course, want to join your, ah, 'family' in pursuit of the parties responsible for your uncle's death?"

"Yes, yes I will. I know the temple and I remember everything my uncle ever told me about Dridean and their way of life," Shyndra replied wryly. She slid her hand across to Alyn, grabbing his hand and squeezing lightly. Ignoring the other four men around them, she asked softly, "Stay with me tonight?"

He gripped her hand and nodded. Sitting back, still holding her hand, he glanced at the men around them.

"So... what drink do you favor? Do you have a name for your merry band?"

"We all take rum for business like this," Arden replied. "We are just the Brethren, nothing more glorious than that."

"We tend to keep things simple," Crau amended. "A more memorable title raises our visibility. We depend on being mostly forgettable when we leave an area."

"The better in case your true natures are borne out." Alyn nodded again. "It's quite good; your little ruse."

Shyndra shoved Aldryn lightly. She refused to give in to her grief, but that didn't mean she wasn't going to use it to her benefit. "Switch seats with me, cousin. I want to sit next to Alyn."

Aldryn shook his head, and Shyndra thought she might have an argument coming. Aldryn stood up, however, making Shyndra realize that he was still trying to clear his head since regaining consciousness. He switched seats with her, and aside from a scowl from Borin, there were no objections.

Any objections?" Shyndra asked, raising her brow at the Brethren. She deliberately left the question open to interpretation; curious as to if they would object to her relationship with Alyn.

"I'm waiting to see if the revered Alyn Kysis is buying rum for the table." Crau commented.

"He is," rejoined Alyn.

"No objections," replied Arden, Crau, and Aldryn in unison. Borin just shrugged and shook his head, once.

Chuckling, Shyndra leaned against Alyn, knowing it would annoy Borin that much more. She knew that they would raise their objections and complaints the next day, if they had any. Not that it mattered to her. Especially since each of them was far worse than her.

A fantasy/murder myster...

2009-08-25T11:11:00.001-07:00

Teaser Tuesday strives again. We've decided to write an actual fantasy/murder mystery using Shyndra, the Brethren (her two fav cousins and two childhood friends), and Alyn. Shyndra has a sordid past, of sorts that comes out in bits and pieces in the novel. The true 'mystery' doesn't occur until a few pages after this part. I'll probably post that next week, mostly 'cause it's too fun to not post. :-)

If it isn't as tight as last week's, it's because I haven't edited it a million and ten times before posting. Which will come in the next week or so when I'm not writing. Feel free to tear it apart, too. :-)

Without further ado.... :

****

The last time, she had been returning from a contract and was waiting her turn to use the public toilet in the Thirteenth District of Fellhaven. She had been approached by Alyn and had agreed to accompany a group of other adventurers to go rid a fortress from a group that had taken it over. It turned out to be a group of kobolds that had claimed the fortress as theirs. They all had survived, but it had proven what she already knew: she was no fighter.

Following the priest into the temple’s public toilet, Shyndra drew a steadying breath as she moved towards the stall where the priest was relieving his bladder. Removing a dagger from within her robes, she crept forward and drove the blade into his back, between his ribs. The priest’s arms flailed for a few heartbeats before slumping forward, his head thudding heavily against the stone wall. Pulling her dagger from the corpse, she wiped it on his robe before sliding it back into its sheath.

If anyone ever said being an assassin was a glamorous job, she was going to cheerfully slit their throats. Typically, she would have agreed, but not when it came to killing someone in the bathroom while they were urinating.

Of course, she was also just starting out as an assassin, having graduated from her guild only the previous year. Unlike the Guild Mistress and her husband, Shyndra did not have a powerful family to offer her better contracts. Perhaps had she been a dutiful daughter, it would have been different, but she wouldn’t have been allowed to make her own decisions, either.
Shaking her traitorous and distracting thoughts away, Shyndra retreated from the bathroom, shoulders rounded and head bowed. She didn’t change her posture until she had exited the temple and was once more in the middle of the bustling bazaar. Shaking her hood back, she straightened and began looking around at the various booths surrounding her.

There was so much to see and she had some extra coins she could spend frivolously. As her gaze swept through the crowd she paused in her steps. Her eyes grew wide as she noticed a man in dark brown robes moving through the crowds.

It was impossible, though, she mused. There was no possible way any of them could be in Valpoor. It was simply impossible! But… if it was him, then the other three weren’t far away. She could not let any of them see her, let alone find her!

Ducking her head, she chewed her lip as she crossed towards a booth selling magic supplies on the opposite side where she thought she had seen Aldryn. Any other time she would be intrigued by what the booth offered. This time, however, she was too preoccupied with trying to remember how the Brethren, as they called themselves, traversed cities.

The last thing she needed to complicate her life was those four. Turning abruptly, deciding returning to Fellhaven was far better than remaining in Valpoor. She took two steps before colliding with a decidedly male chest.

“Oh, excuse me!” She exclaimed in a soft, timid voice, stumbling backward only to have a pair of arms catching her. “Forgive me, good sir, for not being more aware of where I was going! My humblest apologies.”

“Oh, dear lady, surely this is my clumsy error!” He lifted her chin until his eyes were looking into her own. “Now, let me take you to a wholly inappropriate tavern, dear ‘priestess,’ and make amends for my behavior.”

Before she could answer, he turned smoothly on one booted heel, placed his arm intimately around her waist and began to lead her off.

She had to leave, but her desire to stay with Alyn Kysis was far too tempting. Glancing around, she breathed a half-sigh of relief. Perhaps she was just being overly suspicious. “Really, sir, it was all my fault,” she assured him with a smile. “Though, if you are taking me to an inappropriate tavern, I must confess to wondering what else you have in mind.”

“It is inappropriate for your guise.” Alyn winked. “As for what else I have in mind... such evil thoughts, dear lady! What you must think of me!”

Shyndra laughed, her tension vanishing with his teasing. “I have a reputation to keep, good sir! As for what I think of you...” She trailed off, a smirk forming on her lips. “There are many reputations about you, the question is: are they true?”

“Each of the bad reputations is correct.” Alyn sniffed, but she could swear he was repressing laughter. “Any good reputation you may have heard is a vicious lie spread by jealous competitors.”

“Considering our last encounter, I’m tempted to believe that some of those ‘good’ rumors are actually true,” Shyndra countered. She glanced around quickly, not seeing anyone she recognized. “May I make a request?”

Sighing, Alyn replied, “Very well, but I do not kiss women anywhere but on the lips. Not until the fourth lovemaking.”

Feeling Blah...

2009-08-24T08:10:00.000-07:00

My muses, it seems, have been sleeping or vacationing somewhere without me. Nothing draws to me in poser, despite wanting to do something creative. Even writing seems to be dragging, unless I'm writing with Mark. Then it goes ok. At least the editing is done, at long last.

Of course, the big question with that is: do we have what anyone wants to sell? Maybe. Maybe not. Either way, we've still gotta get the synopsis done (procrastinating isn't always a good thing, but it IS fun...).

Anywhos... the first week of school for the older terror (Hunter) has gone good. So far. But then, it WAS only three days.... Yes, yes, I know. Give him time. Seriously, though, he's a pretty good kid. When he isn't driving me insane.

and now back to my regular scheduled program of work....

The Weekend and Teaser Tuesday

2009-08-18T07:21:00.000-07:00

Ok, first off, I had a wonderful time over the weekened. My parents had the kids again and that left me free to go to Richmond with my beloved sans kids. I walked around Short Pump windowshopping for about two hours and loved the exercise (I admit it!) while Mark went to a micro-bachelor's party for a friend. We went to Maggiano's together (as always, service was excellent and the food just can NOT be surpassed by any other restaurant...) before leaving for home. I then got to go to a mutual friend's house (Ed's is one of Mark's best friends...) and game there... Ok, well... it was more me, Ed, and another friend of Mark's and Ed's annoying the DM (dungeon master) by going off on our own tangents, lol. I then stayed to watch the UFC (UCF?) games on ShowTime. lol, it was actually fun, which I attribute to the company more than the show.

Well, here's what I've been playing with as a way to keep sane. We finally got our query letter together and done, so we're testing the waters with it to see how it goes.... Keeping with tradition, we've recieved a rejection already.

Shyndra is a character I play during game nights (AD&D, btw). We've got the cast of main characters already, but we're still toying with the plot. In the meantime, I'm playing around with her introduction. :)

****

There was something to be said about a temple dedicated to Dridean, god of light and knowledge, in a city where crime and filth abounded. It showed a dedication to a belief and stubbornness to not let the darkness overshadow everything. Or so the dedicated followers believed. It was a challenge for the clerics to cajole their followers into changing their way for the 'greater good', to coerce them from their evil ways and step into Dridean's ever-knowing 'light'.

In reality, the High Priest and many other temple clerics were simply using it as a method to fill their personal pockets and, for the High Priest, a means to enjoy the brothels only a few buildings away from the temple. It was why Shyndra, in her usual black priestess robes, was now traversing the hallways in search of the High Priest. Head bowed, hood pulled low over her brow, she kept her arms folded at waist level. Her hands were tucked into the opposing sleeves, well hidden from view.

Though she had not grown up as a religious zealot like many in her family, she knew the basic layouts of the temples of the various deities. Only Dynisseik's devout followers changed every hallway and room from temple to temple, making traversing them nearly impossible without a map. One of the reasons Shyndra claimed herself as a follower of the goddess of lies and deception.

Nearing the High Priest's private sanctuary, the door opened and she ducked into the shadows of an alcove. As he stood in the doorframe adjusting his robes and belt, Shyndra studied the man dispassionately. An inch or so taller than her petite five-foot three-inch frame, he had white hair circling a balding head. Pale blue listless eyes made her question if he used one of the many remedies sold amongst the fares in the bazaar. It would certainly explain his renowned erratic behavior and his violent temper. Not to mention the glaze that covered his eyes. His face was smooth, with wrinkles around his mouth and eyes. The High Priest turned and strode down the hallway towards a heavy wooden door.

Shyndra groaned silently, her shoulders dropping as she heaved a sigh. Why the bathroom? Nothing good ever happened when it came to her, a contract, and a bathroom.

Teaser Tuesday - A snippet from "Death's Heiress"

2009-08-10T20:27:00.001-07:00

Right! So I decided to post a snippet from "Death's Heiress" which will need a rewrite before we begin querying it again. Which, isn't too big a deal to us. It'll give me something to do while trying to query "Prize of the Providers".

Anywhos, here's the snippet that I love that I think I wrote out really well. It probably needs better editing, but... oh well. :-)

The setup: This is pretty much when everything starts falling into place for the premise of the story. Things have been going fairly smoothly, except for the teacher at Xandra's guild being tortured by Xantos.

Enjoy!!!

*****

This place is alive; in more ways than one.

The thoughts came unbidden to the blond-haired, blue-eyed ruler of Faedale, Tolrien Galvryl Runestar. It was also, undoubtedly, very unnerving; Tolrien had ridden, trekked, and hiked practically every forest and mountain in Faedale and this forest was alive in ways they were not.

Senses that had not been used were brought to life and used; smells were inhaled and sounds were heard that would not have normally been noticed. The Great Forest brought to life the senses that would have otherwise remained dormant.

The ruler of Faedale was not alone; he was accompanied by a full contingent of well-armed guards. However, all were aware of being watched. Their keen elfin sight helped only so much in the ever-darkening forest.

Tolrien raised his eyes to the completely-covered canopy; not a trickle of sunlight slipped through the dark leaves above their heads. His horse side-stepped skittishly; Tolrien pulled back on his reigns. The horse’s head dropped further.

“It appears even our mounts are fearful of this place,” a guard commented off-handedly.

Crystal blue eyes glared down at the guard. Of course he wouldn’t be perturbed by the strangeness of this place; if rumors were to be believed, he had been raised in Drakeshire, the sister forest to this place.

“Indeed,” Tolrien replied coldly. “Do you have a suggestion or are you simply attempting levity?”

The guard raised a brow, not the least concerned by his king’s dark mood. Drakeshire had the same effect on any who dared to enter. “Actually, there is no way to calm them save a rather speedy exit.”

Tolrien’s expression only grew darker and more sullen. The singular amusement and easiness found in his guard’s every move only added to his ire. Why did my sister have to return here? How is it she can traverse this strange, foreign place without fear when I, her eldest sibling, cannot fathom what the darkness holds?

His thoughts were cut short as the same guard murmured, “Fog ahead, milord.”

“I see no—” he broke off sharply.

Fog swirled before them, hanging in the air and seeming to slither up their bodies, animal and elf alike, until it completely surrounded them. They were rendered blind; even with their keen inherent sight, they were only able to see a few inches beyond their noses.

This is bad, Tolrien thought, this is very, very bad.

His thoughts were proven correct when the fog parted to elves with skin the color of milk and hair a glistening holding the reins of their horses. The fog receded until it curled around them at the same height as the knees of Tolrien’s walking sentries. The suddenly ability to see immediately caused Tolrien and his guards to wish for the mystery of the fog; for each rider there were no less than four sentries.

The ability to not see was, he thought, rarely a gift.

He would have given anything for the lack of sight.

Each sentry, save the ones holding the horses, held a sword or spear in their hands. Their features were covered by black cloaks. Their faces were covered by macabre masks; only their orange eyes seen, like burning coals. A strange blue light, as though it were reflected through ice, glimmered in the darkness.

“Speak fair or pay the consequences of trespassing.” The words came from a solitary elf who stepped forward. A mask of grotesque proportions covered his face, hiding any feature.

As the sentry stepped forward, Tolrien could see red strands mingling with white and he had the unfortunate impression of white hair that bled.

Drawing a breath, he kept his voice steady, though more than anything he wanted to turn and ride fast and hard from this forest of death.

“I am Tolrien Runestar, ruler of Faedale. I have come to seek an audience with my sister, the granddaughter of Lord Xantos Zaurahel.”

Orange eyes flickered; Tolrien could not decipher what message lurked in their fiery depths.

“The king of another land dares the dangers of the Great Forest and its denizens?” Cruel humor filled each word spoken.

Tolrien frowned. He’d never had to deal with the docelfar before and he envied Aly her knowledge. “It is important that I speak to the favorite child of our grandfather.” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “He would, I believe, be greatly disappointed and angry were he not able to receive the information I carry.”

“A message has been sent to the lord you speak of. If it pleases him, you will speak to the Lady you desire.” The reply was curt.

Tolrien heard the unspoken words that hung in the air between the sentry and himself; if it did not please Xantos, he doubted he would be leaving this place in one piece; if at all.

Quick Mix Cake Recipe

2009-08-06T07:44:00.000-07:00

For all ya'll who want my grandmother's recipe, here it is. You can add whatever you want and change the flavoring however you like. Chocolate chips, fruit, whatever. This is the perfect basic recipe for cakes and/or cupcakes. Especially for all the bakers out there. :-D

It's copied word-for-word, so don't blame me for spelling! lol. I used the sticks of butter or margerine and it always worked great.

Enjoy!!!

---------------------------------

Quick Mix Cake

3 cups all purpose flour
4 tsp. baking powder
1 tsp. salt
1 3/4 cups sugar
3/4 cups shorting
3 eggs
1 cup milk
1 tsp. vanilla

Sift baking powder, salt and sugar into a large bowl. Add shortening, eggs, milk and vanilla and beat on low speed of electric mixer for 2 minutes; increase speed to medium and beat for 2 minutes. Pour into greased and floured baking pans.

Comic Con Pictures!!!

2009-08-04T18:24:00.000-07:00

A few of my favs... I'll post more later.

Cindy, me, and My little IMP.

My Fan Club - Seriously, the kept showing up everywhere we did....

Me and Chris Marie Greene - She's a great writer and a real sweetheart. Go buy her books, the Vampire Babylon series. Great stuff.

I HAD to have this one... just didn't realize where the hand was until AFTER I saw this pic! lol

It was lots of fun and I had a lot of fun. Enjoy the pics!!!!

Teaser Tuesday - Scene from unfinished novel

2009-08-03T18:57:00.000-07:00

Well, this was an idea we had for a novel involving Xandra's eventual daughter, Antaa. Antaa had the usual problem found in a medieval evil society - she had an unwelcomed suitor way too old for her whom she didn't like.... unworthy suitor had been told to stay away (did I mention she's a young teen and he's way older??) and he ignores that and touches her. She retaliates by putting a dagger to his throat (trained from walking by two assassins and family of fighters...) then runs scared to her mother. Xantos happens to be there at the time, too... here's what happens after they go hear what happened to Antaa...

*****

Alyssiana’s smile faded into a frown that grew as she moved through the hallways and corridors of the guild. There was a cloud of death and fear that seemed to seep into her skin and all those around her.

Stopping just outside the door to the main room for the students, she frowned as the noise-level of that was considerably less than what it should have been. Little laughter and jesting met her ears this day and she was growing concerned.

Her sharp gray eyes searched the room for her two grandchildren, but neither was seen. Turning, she took two steps only to run into Alden Everyn, a Guild Master and dear friend.

“Where are Antaa and An’odd?” Aly asked bluntly.

“Segav took them out for lunch and has not brought them back,” Alden replied easily. “Xandra is in her office.”

Aly’s eyes narrowed. “What is going on, Alden? This is mid-term; they have tests that they need to complete.”

“They have been given a reprieve from Xandra and Xantos; I was told to inform Segav to keep them away until tomorrow.”

“Why?”

Alden smiled slightly. “That is a question best left for your daughter, Aly. May I escort you to her?”

“Of course,” Aly smiled. “I’d never turn down a request from you!”

The half-elf chuckled and slid her hand through his arm and together they walked the corridors to Xandra’s office.

As they neared the administration wing, the smell of death and the metallic scent of blood wafted to Aly’s nostrils.

When they turned the last corner that gave way to the entrance to the administration offices, Aly saw the source of the smell and silence: Hanging by the use of ebony chains was the skinless body of a humanoid void of all genitals. It, Aly could not think of this abomination as anything else, had been male; the cuts of where the genitals would have been made that fact obvious.

Hanging like one would the skinned carcass of a deer; the bound, outstretched wrists were the only thing holding it up. The skin of the face was the only thing left for identification. The face had been pinned, Aly could not fathom how, to the chest of the corpse. His genitals were not the only parts that had been removed: His eyes had also been cut out, leaving only empty sockets.

“Alixandra Myriata Runestar Dredborne Dryzmella!” Alyssiana’s voice thundered as she stormed past the corpse.

A door opened and Xandra stepped out to raise silvery brows at her enraged mother.

“Mother? What have I done to garner your ire this time?” Xandra asked pleasantly.

“You left that…that…”

“Corpse?” Xandra offered.

“Yes, corpse,” Aly snarled, “For the students and adults alike to see and smell!”

Xandra glanced past her mother to where the corpse was hanging. Though she could not actually see the body, she knew what it looked like. She had been surprised upon seeing it herself.

“I’m not the one responsible for that, Mother. Great-Father is.” She glanced past her mother again. “Though, I’m almost tempted to ask Great-Father how he did it.”

“Alixandra!” Aly exclaimed in pure outrage. “I swear, child, it seems you are growing more like Grandfather with each passing year!”

“That is not so!” Xandra exclaimed in disbelief. “I am still far more compassionate and loving than Great-Father! Despite the fact he loves Saporia! I’m not nearly as ruthless as he is! Are you going to condemn me for embracing my heritage? Something you and Father have always encouraged me and Caritas to do?”

Aly’s eyes flashed with anger, but she relented slightly, “That may be, daughter, but I do not approve of such a display. Or your participation in such brutality.”

Xandra shrugged as she stepped into her office, her mother following her. Dropping into her chair behind her desk, she smiled darkly, “I merely removed his genitals, eyes, and tongue. After which, Great-Father told me to acquire the chains and leave him. I did not argue.”

“You…removed his genitals?” Aly asked in shock.

Xandra gestured towards a shelf behind and above her mother’s head. Aly turned and her eyes widened. Sitting on the shelf was an ornate glass jar filled with two testicles.

“I thought I’d start a collection,” Xandra stated simply. “If Great-Father can collect eyes, I thought it only fitting I keep my threat to many a man and start collecting their testicles.”

Aly closed her eyes and drew a deep breath, “I shall never understand your strange way of thinking, my daughter.” Opening her eyes, she turned and asked flatly, “What did this man do to garner such treatment?”

“He dared touch your granddaughter, Aly, as well as state falsehoods about her,” Xantos stated, stepping through a silvery portal.

Turning to face Xantos she suddenly smiled malevolently. “Well, I would say from what I have witnessed inside the guild, Antaa will not have to worry about such any more. In fact, I doubt there will be any who will dare anger her for fear of what she, or her family, may do.”

“What brings you to the guild, Alyssiana?” Xantos asked, smiling mirthlessly.

Aly raised a brow. “Cannot a grandmother wish to see her grandchildren without a superior motive?”

Teaser Tuesday

2009-07-28T11:19:00.000-07:00

Ok, I'm still trying to get over the trip back from San Diego. The Con was a blast, the beach was fun, the traveling was hell. Overall, a great trip!!! Next goal: New York Comic Con at some point. :-) What can I say... I'm a glutton for punishment.

Right! Teaser Tuesday! This is from yet another novel we completed that will need editing for stuff, like usual. One of my favorite arguments between a character and Xantos.

The setup: Vaania has gone to the castle decked out to the 9's so she can get the info she needs to find out who killed her best friend. (She's also been hired by the Royal Family to find out the same info, so she's killing two birds with one stone...). Anywhos, she went in disguise but was found-out by the king (former merc... what can ya do?) and the Family immediatly did what they could to keep anyone else from blowing her cover. (They like her, btw.) Xantos has his own agenda, like usual, and decides to pay the bounty hunter a visit. Xantos, for those who aren't familiar, isn't a nice guy. He's the farthest thing from a nice guy you can get.... though he does has the occassional moment...

Teaser:

"Tell me about that glorious cloak you were wearing." Xantos invited as he brought a small bottle from the depths of his cloak and opened it. "Bring me two goblets as well, Vaania. I have something for you to drink with me."

Vaania crossed to a small cabinet and removed two pale green crystal goblets. As she crossed to Xantos, she answered his request. Or was it an order?

"I was one my way to the castle and was passing Drakeshire when I noticed it in the tree line." She shrugged as she offered him the goblets. "I was lucky to bring it down with two arrows."

"Do you know what you killed?" Xantos asked with a bemused smile. He poured an odd, green liquid into the goblets. He placed one before her, took the other, and sipped his beverage.

Vaania tilted her head to the side as she took a goblet. "No, I do not. I do know I've never seen anything like it before." She glanced at the beverage then back to him and took a tentative sip.

"It is a sagtral; one of the most ancient animals still living in these lands. You were lucky indeed." Xantos nodded to her. "They are weakest during their mating season... otherwise, even two arrows in the heart would not have felled it."

"They live solely in Drakeshire?" Vaania asked curiously. "Why would it have been on the outer edge of Drakeshire?"

"Drakeshire is, for the most part, one of the last untamed areas of Faedale." Xantos commented. "How is your drink?"

Vaania eyed the drink with a mingled expression of curiosity and distaste. "It... is different. I mean no offense when I say I prefer the sweeter drinks to this type." She took another tiny sip, trying to ignore the taste of sour apples. If she wanted sour, she'd suck on a lemon.

Xantos chuckled. "Few people enjoy it. I find that only being who have lived for over six centuries tend to find a taste for it, but I am always looking to see if someone new does. Now... tell me why you were at the party at Dragonsheart castle... in disguise."

Vaania sat the goblet on a nearby table and sighed. "I went to meet a contact there; they didn't want to be seen talking to a known bounty hunter. My contact stated they would not be talking to the royals, either, due to fearing for their life."

"Then you acted sensibly. And did you enjoy your dance with An'odd?" Xantos asked.
Vaania blushed and she hated herself for it. "Yes, I enjoyed dancing with him."

"You wanted to stay and be with him more, didn't you?" Xantos's smile was impish, and knowing. "Or did you want him to come here, with you, more?"

Vaania glowered at Xantos, refusing to answer, though she knew her cheeks were answering plenty for her. "Regardless of how I feel, I'm not one to give in to my feelings for a single night. Can we please change the topic? I doubt my... feelings towards An'odd are that important when I won't be seeing him again."

"I think your feelings are paramount, in this regard." Xantos said. "Now, your answers, Vaania."

"As you wish, Lord Zaurahel," Vaania replied darkly, not liking having her answers forced from her. "I would have enjoyed spending more time with An'odd." She paused before asking smoothly, "Are you planning on killing me now, or shall I write out my last will and await the assassins?"

"Not at all." Xantos said, his demeanor quickly becoming more jovial. "Nor would I object to him coming to your residence... although you should have some more flattering sleepwear for that occasion." He looked over her outfit. "Yes, something more intimate and flattering would be in order."

"Perhaps I prefer comfort to beauty," Vaania retorted, her face growing warmer by the moment. Though the thought was enticing, she wasn't going to allow it to be anything more than a dream. "I have no intentions of inviting him here, let alone seeing him again. In case you haven't noticed, I don't exactly qualify as a suitable mate for him."

"I have noticed a great deal." Xantos countered. "Most notably that you tend towards underestimating your worth in every regard except the bounty hunting trade."

Vaania glanced away from the docelfar briefly before looking back to him. "It isn't as though I've had much encouragement to the contrary. I'm a bit jaded in that regard." She narrowed her gaze and asked bluntly, "Did you come to ask about why I was at the party? Or discover if I have any intentions towards An'odd?" She paused as an impish gleam flared in her eyes. "Or was this a social call to discover what sleep wear I possess and subsequently fuss at me about it?"

"All of the above, and for reasons you are obviously too impassioned to comprehend." Xantos stood, draining his goblet. "I allow you one more question before I take my leave." He corked the bottle and placed it back into his robe.

"What right do you have to dictate my, or anyone's, life?" Vaania snapped. "You intrude into my privacy, complain about my attire, and demand to know if I enjoyed dancing with someone who it's known you're protective of. Do I look like I have a death wish?" She snorted in a very unladylike way, adding, "Forgive me, that is two questions. I won't expect you to answer the last."

"I work towards improving lives, whether the person has the insight to see it or not." Xantos smiled. "You look like someone who regrets sleeping alone."

"I have many regrets, Xantos," Vaania replied. "Does it matter if that is one of them?"

"Yes, it does." Xantos said, vanishing in a burst of green light and fire.

"Bastard," she hissed, turning and stalking into her bedroom.

Teaser Tuesday

2009-07-20T16:10:00.001-07:00

A fun scene that ends up being a running joke throughout the novels. We typically try to weave it into each novel because, come on... Undead cats leading a horde of undead rats? how fun is THAT?? (Sorry, GG, but... it was thought up and written before AW...)

Anywhos, thoughts and opinions are welcomed!!!

*****

Quickly, she descended the side of the wall before crossing the yards to the trench. She wrinkled her nose; the smell was awful! A mingling of sewage, decaying flesh, and human waste wafted from the murky water.

Swallowing hard, she closed her eyes and raised her hand, as trained by ArcC’ldd and Xantos, she spoke the words for raising a familiar. “Arwyrain ‘th chan ‘r farw adfer ail ackt buzheda.” The words flowed from her lips as though she had been born saying them.

A sickly green glow flowed from her hand and sank into the trench, seeking out the dead bodies which lay within the brown, putrid depths. From the trench the once-dead bodies of rats and cats rose from the murky depths. The bodies, in various stages of decay, rose and waded through the cesspool to the ground she was standing on. She grinned impishly and pushed the hood back from her face.

Well, she thought, might as well have some fun here. Her eyes swept around her and she realized, suddenly, there were more than three dozen undead bodies swarming from the trench. This is more than I expected!

Her grin grew wider and brighter as she moved backwards from the edge as more joined the group. She stopped counting at fifty rats. Instead she chewed her lip and began thinking of how to properly phrase the command she wanted.

Feeling eyes upon her, she raised her golden gaze to the room she had just departed; in the window she saw her brother and father. Her gaze narrowed and she gazed slowly around her. The number of rats was still growing, though the cats had stopped at around three dozen.
Swallowing hard, she pulled the hood up around her head. “Seek out those who put you here... take away what is theirs.”

From beneath her hood she watched as the rats and cats, ranging from skeletons to bodies with flesh falling off and innards showing, to barely appearing dead, streamed by her as though they were a river and she a rock in the middle.

She waded through the stream of undead and made her way back to the side of the manor and, again, quickly climbed the side of the building. As she pulled herself up onto the sill, she tossed her head making the hood fall backwards.

Sitting on the sill she looked at her father’s smiling face and asked innocently, “Will that work for a suitable distraction?” She glanced to the horrified expression on her brother’s face before furrowing her brow in confusion. “Something wrong, Cari? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost…or something.”

2nd Teaser Tuesday Teaser

2009-07-14T07:28:00.000-07:00

Ok, so this is from another not-finished novel in Xandra's series, but it's still one of my favorites. Hopefully it conveys the scene well enough you can imagine it. :-) Either way, I loved writing it. Oh, and excuse the formatting; I did this via email using an email client, so you might just be better off reading the one below. ;-)

The Setup: Xandra has been plagued with assassination attempts and her beloved gods-parents have currently become the guests of honor at a ball thrown by Xandra's parents, the King and Queen of Faedale. Since neither Ryna nor Kyis are comfortable with being the center of attention (assassin and bounty hunter, respectively), Xandra is dared into dancing by her childhood friend, Alyn, who is also Ryna and Kyis's son. The problem with this is, Alyn was Xandra's first love and she still loves him which is probably why he can still coax her into doing almost anything.... Or dare her, as the case may be.

And now... On with the show!!!!

*****

"... has long enjoyed the dance methods of the Eastern Lands..." Syion was continuing in the ballroom. "So, for her delight, and yours, we have a performance, in her honor, of one of those fabled styles. Please welcome to this platform... the dancer known as... Cengla!"

Dropping the cloak, she, she raised her hands in a way that mimicked a snake rising from the ground and she began to slowly shimmy her hips until the beads of her hip-cloth were but a blur. Twirling, she began moving around the platform until she stood just before her husband and Alyn. Holding her arms out to the side and raising her hair up seductively, she rocked her hips from side to side suggestively. Slowly, she bent backwards, still shaking her hips, the rising slowly and dropping her hips once more.

Winking at both men, she began twirling around until she stood once more in the middle of the platform. Her hips once more swayed with the music suggestively for several more heartbeats before rolling them in perfect figure-eights.

Glancing down, she saw with satisfaction that both Segav and Alyn's eyes were locked onto her, burning with desire. Alyn had his hands clasped so tightly at his waist that the knuckles were white.

The figure-eights slid easily into her hips snapping from the left to right before she once more began her undulating dance around the platform.

Pausing on the opposite side of the platform from where Alyn and Sega were watching, she began once more rocking her hips from side-to-side in sharp twists and circular turns. Twirling once, she leaned backwards towards the pair and smiled broadly as she rose back up and twirled around from edge of the platform.

A quick glance at the larger raised platform showed Ryna smiling brightly at her, and Kyis was staring, his mouth agape. She smiled under her veil as she closed her eyes, letting her body move and sway with the music. She held her hands above her head and moved her hips; letting the muscles in her abdomen ripple up and down in the dance.

Slowly moving in a circle, she shoved her right hip out with each turn, adding a twist each time she pulled it back in. Slowly, she took prancing steps towards the front of the platform, snapping her hips out with each step. As she neared the edge of the platform, she shimmied her hips before twirling in a slow circle. Stopping with her back to the audience, she rolled her hips in circles before taking steps where each hip was thrust to the side. Between the steps, she added an extra twist, snap, or drop.

The smile beneath her veil grew as she stole another glance to Alyn and Segav. She allowed herself to acknowledge her surprise and delight that her father had not realized she was dancing. Adding a small hop before rocking her pelvis forward and backward before twisting it into circles with small hops between to the side, she allowed herself to believe Xolyn would not realize what was occurring until after the dance was finished.

"Alixandra Myriata Dredborne Dryzmella!" A far-too familiar hissed in a low tone. At least he isn't screaming, Xandra thought, even as her dismay settled into her stomach. Trying to keep the tempo and rhythm of her body going, she opened her eyes, which found her father immediately.

Xolyn stood between Segav and Alyn. His hands were on his hips, and the expression on his face was like a thundercloud that promised disaster, if it wanted to be merciful. Segav was glancing sideways at her father, and he did not bother to hide his displeasure at Xolyn's attitude. Alyn was far too busy looking at her to look at Xolyn.

Aly stepped behind Xolyn, a laughing smile on her lips. Xandra forced herself to keep her body moving with the music, encouraged by her mother's nod as Aly placed a hand on Xolyn's shoulder.

"If you're quite done making the guests drool, young lady, perhaps you'd consent to finishing up and putting on some actual clothing?" Xolyn growled at her, still keeping his voice low. Xandra kept dancing, not wanting to stop before the music. Aly whispered something in Xolyn's ear, but it obviously did not have the desired effect: The frown on Xolyn's face turned into a grimace of anger. He turned and said something which caused Aly's eyes to blaze at him.

"No one would realize her identity if you hadn't made this absurd scene!" Xandra heard her mother hiss at Xolyn. Xandra could feel the music was near its end, and she was grateful. Alyn had not taken his eyes off her, and Segav had decided to ignore her parents to enjoy her dance once more... but she wanted this to be over.

Teaser Tuesday and other stuff

2009-07-13T20:39:00.000-07:00

Wow, the weekend was fun! Had a friend over Saturday and we had a great time with the kids, who managed to get us invited to a neighbor's 'cookout'. Only kids can invite kids to a cook-out and it not seem improper. (Neighbor's son invited my son and daughter, just to be clear...). Anywhos, after that, we chatted and had a fun time. (Mommy got soaked a bit with the neighbor's watergun by both my son AND the neighbor's son, lol.) Sunday, we went to see the fireworks with some other friends. Ed and his friend were such sweethearts and the kids were pretty good, too. Sorry, no pics; I left the camera at home. :-( HOWEVER!!!! Mark came back from his trip and well, nothing can express the delight I had at seeing him. *giggling* I was such a naughty little girl, I jumped into his arms and give him a smooch. Traffic was a pain and it was almost midnight by the time we got the kids tucked in and stuff put away, but it was worth it! The fireworks were AWESOME!!! and I had a great time.

We managed to get some writing done, despite his sprained wrist. I swear, he can't go ANYWHERE without finding mischief to get into. yeah, yeah, match made in heaven, 'cause I'm just as bad.

Anywhos, on to Teaser Tuesday!!!! Current bit is another fight scene from the sequel to Heiress and gives some insight on what the main plot is... well, kinda. Two plots that were woven together nicely. This is just the first. :-D Xandra is currently on her way back from her punishment, due to her misadventures in the first novel. Almost a year has passed by and she's nearing the end of her punishment. Enjoy!!!

******

The men under this captain's orders had turned their attention away from her and to the captain as he had spoken and Xandra did not waste a moment's time.

She slipped her father's dagger from her boot and it sailed through the air. It did not stop in its travel until it was lodged, to the hilt, in the captain's throat.

The immediate shock was all the guards required to pull their swords and turn upon their captors. Xandra slid her obsidian blade from her belt and took a few steps backward until her back was against the wheel of the coach. She waited until one of her would-be captors began pulling a sword and was only a few feet from her before tucking, rolling, and coming up behind him.

Her left arm shot out and the blade cut across the back of his legs, slicing through his hamstrings. Losing that vital support system, the man fell like a dropped doll.

Plucking his sword from his hand with her right, Xandra swirled around and blocked the downward cut of another blade. Her left leg slid backwards, bracing her slender body as the man's right arm grabbed her hand which held her dagger. They grappled for several heartbeats, until Xandra lunged forward, bringing her left knee up and connecting with her attacker's groin.

As the man's strength faltered with the rupturing of his loins, Xandra pulled free from his grip and swept her sword around in a downward arc. The man's head rolled as she swirled around as another man came towards her; cutting the air with his own weapon.

Xandra twirled her own weapon and gained momentum as she approached this new foe. As their blades connected, she sensed another behind her, saw her foe's head nod slightly, and she stepped to the side just barely avoiding a thrusting blade.

Her opponent, however, was not so lucky: he now had his own comrade's sword in his own chest. Xandra had time to register horror and shock in the dying man’s eyes as the blade was pulled from his body.

The young girl slipped her dagger into her belt and waved a hand slightly in the air before her, muttering a few words as she did so. A ghostly hand appeared and she suddenly smiled innocently as she formed a fist and mocked an upper cut to her would-be assailant's chin.

The man did not have time to register anything other than the opaque hand which, within seconds of forming, connected with his chin. It threw him backwards a few feet before he fell unconscious.

Xandra dispelled the hand and just barely had time to sense someone else behind her before dancing forward out of reach of another cutting blade. Though she head her tunic rip, felt cool air before the searing pain of a blade slicing open her skin, she knew it was not serious. She could still move.

Turning, she raised her own sword in preparation for an attack. An attack did not come as she saw the man stiffen as the tip of a blade appeared through his chest.

A figure dressed in black appeared seconds later and Xandra found herself staring into the orange eyes of a pure-blood docelfar. Only his eyes were seen for the rest of the docelfar was covered, from head to toe in black garments. A cowl covered his head and wrapped around his face and neck. A loose-fitting black shirt with long sleeves covered his torso while black breeches of a soft, lightweight material vanished into sturdy, boots that paused just below the knees. A gloved hand shoved the man forward from the sword that had impaled him.

A dagger appeared and Xandra barely had time to comprehend the fact it was being tossed to her; she caught it by pure reflex.

“Thank you,” Xandra said cautiously. “Who are you?”

“My lord, your great-grandfather, did not believe you had adequate protection,” was the reply in a disdainful, male voice.

Great-Father, of course, Xandra thought sullenly. Now I'm even more in his debt.

“Just kill me now,” Xandra muttered as she glanced around the scattering of bodies.

“I do not believe that is his wish,” the docelfar replied.

Xandra smiled slightly before wincing as the pain from her injury made itself known. “No, but it would be better than being even more in his debt.”

The reply was a barely-heard chuckle. “You are his heir, Lady Alixandra.”

“Yes, and having people in his debt is something he prefers,” Xandra replied grumpily.

“Would you prefer his ire?”

“No!” Xandra exclaimed. “I presume you will be informing him of what has transpired?”

“Of course: It is my duty,” he replied. “I suggest that you continue your journey to your parents’ palace before any more decide to appear.”

Xandra nodded as she glanced at the sword she had been using. Shrugging, she slid her father's dagger back into her boot. As she straightened, her face was one of great pain.

“Do you require assistance?”

“Unless you have a few healing spells or potions, I think I can manage,” Xandra replied.

“As you wish.”

Xandra turned and stiffly walked to the coach, pausing as she had one foot on the bottom step, she asked, “Do you know who Kurvic is?”

“A warlord.”

“Great, just what Mother needs,” Xandra muttered. “I think I prefer Great-Father's punishment. It's less painful.”

As Xandra slid onto the bench of the coach, she glanced out the window. Her protector, she noticed, had vanished once again. She shook her head and lay on her stomach refusing to place her still-bleeding back against anything.

Mother is going to kill me, she thought as she closed her eyes. The sword she had collected lay upon the floor within easy reach. As she slowly gave way to sleep, she hoped she wouldn't need it again.

Teaser Tuesday

2009-07-07T07:50:00.000-07:00

Another fight scene, this one from the temporarily abandoned novel,
Warlord's Daughter. We sorta put it aside to work on "Prize of the
Providers".

A quick summary of what has happened so far is thus: Kalis is sent to
Fellhaven from her home in Urshad to seek out her birth father when her
family in Urshad comes under attack. Little does she know, that Xantos
Zaurahel, the patriarch of a powerful family that now rules Faedale, is
also renowned for his evil, cruel ways. After an assassin is sent to
kill her by Xantos's arch rival and enemy, Kalis is introduced to Xandra
Dryzmella, Xantos's heiress. Xandra arranges an introduction between
Kalis and Xantos.

The following scene occurs after Xantos agrees to help Kalis rescue her
mother and step-father and takes her into his home. It is also after a
shopping trip where Kalis flirts openly with Alyn and consequently
angers her father.

What Kalis does not realize is, even her father's manor is not immune to
the occasional assassination attempt. Despite the fear Xantos creates
in everyone and the protections he has within his estate.

****

She shivered despite the comfortable temperature of the room. Glancing
around, she furrowed her brows. She thought she had heard steps, but
who else would be in this room? A servant perhaps?

Moving further into the garden, Kalis discovered a small, circular area
that had beautiful dark red and black bricks laid in an intricate
design. In the center sat a bench made from wrought iron and, upon
closer examination, discovered it was a swing. As she studied the
design, she sensed someone behind her and turned in time to see the
flash of a blade before it swung towards her neck.

Jumping backwards, with Dwylla taking flight, Kalis grabbed the arm of
what appeared to be a servant and stepped inwards closer to the
servant's body, bending down and pulling the woman over her shoulder in
the same, fluid movement.

The servant or assassin, Kalis wasn't certain which the woman was,
rolled as she crashed to the bricks. Kalis took a few steps back to
await the next attack. The woman moved warily towards her, a feral grin
on her face.

Heart racing, Kalis moved towards the swing, deciding that was the only
weapon she had at hand. As the disguised assassin leapt forward, Kalis
shoved against the seat of the swing, catching the would-be assassin in
her chest. The woman grunted and Kalis leapt forward, snatching the
dagger from the floor as it fell from her hands.

Her hand had just clenched the dagger when she felt her attacker's hands
grabbing her hair. Ignoring the pain from her hair being pulled
backwards, Kalis swirled around, slicing the woman in the stomach.
Blood poured from the wound and the woman yelped. Standing, Kalis
shoved the dagger into her chest.

As more blood poured from the wound, Kalis stared at the assassin as she
collapsed slowly. Backing away, Kalis tripped on the edge of the bricks
and she heard fabric rip as she fell to the ground. Scrambling
backwards, she felt her back pressed against the trunk of a tree.
Pulling her knees up, she buried her head into her legs and began to weep.

Huddled in the shadows, Kalis felt Dwylla mewling softly and a soft,
tiny voice asking, in the broken language the niawl used, if she was
alright.

Kalis nodded slightly, but couldn't stop the tears the flowed from her
eyes. Her father, Xantos, was supposed to have been protecting her.
There was no place safe for her, it seemed. She raised her eyes to the
still form of the assassin and shuddered, hiding her face once more
against her legs.

"You fought well," said Xantos. "Had I known where you were going, I
could have been here to prevent this. But you did very well, my
daughter. I am proud."

Kalis looked up, but didn't move. Tears continued to fall and she tried
to move further away from him. The only thing she managed to do,
however, was find the prickly thorns of a rose bush barring her way.
Whimpering, she pulled her legs tighter against her chest and stared at
him fearfully. Proud wasn't what she wanted. Safety was what she
wanted; safety, comfort, and love.

"You are safe, now, Kalis." He said, coming closer. His arms were at
his side, palms out. "Come to me, child, and we shall leave here. I
will make certain you are not disturbed, if you wish it."

Kalis nodded, crawling towards him before standing and moving slowly
towards him. She glanced towards the corpse and shivered. Swiping at
her tears even as more fell, she tried to speak, but only a soft cry
escaped. Taking a step forward, she stopped and stood still. Trying
not to cry, she couldn't quite manage the feat as her chin quivered and
tears continued to flow from her eyes.

Gliding forward, Xantos took her into his arms and held her. She sobbed
for some time, and even as she felt another wave of tears coming, Xantos
lifted her and began to carry her from the gardens.

Hooked on yet another series

2009-07-06T12:18:00.000-07:00

Yup, I actually went shopping at a bookstore (Books-a-million... and stop gasping in shock!) last Friday and actually bought a book. "Night Rising" by Chris Marie Green. And, well, it's a very awesome book and I now want to go find the rest of the series and buy 'em up. (They're only $8 a book and I only have four more in the series to get... so far... has anyone found that ever-elusive money tree yet?)

Seriously, though, it's a great book filled with action, deliciously raunchy scenes, and enough to keep you guessing that you want to read the next. The vampire mythos fits perfectly with Hollywood and its glitzy scene. It isn't your common variety of Dracula-type vampires that feed on the unwilling, either. Which only adds to the fun of this series.

From the website of Chris Marie Green (http://www.vampirebabylon.com)

Night Rising:

Welcome to Hollywood—after dark…

Stuntwoman Dawn Madison is a girl with a lot of attitude—and a lot of issues, mostly about living up to the legacy of her mother, a world famous movie star/sex symbol, whose death left Dawn to be raised by her dad Frank, nobody’s notion of single-father-of-the-year. Now that she’s all grown up, she and Frank aren’t on the best of terms, to say the least.

Still, he is her dad, and when he vanishes while investigating the bizarre sighting—caught on film—of a supposedly long-dead child star, she comes home to Tinseltown to join the search for him. Working with his colleagues—a psychic short in stature but big in dreams of stardom, a beautiful Latina techno-geek, and the P. I. firm’s never-seen boss—she discovers an erotic and bloody underground society made up of creatures she thought existed only on the screen.

They are devious. They are deadly. And some of them are dangerously attractive…

Teaser Tuesday

2009-06-30T08:09:00.000-07:00

I'm trying this by emailing to my blog (since it's currently blocked at
my workplace). Let's hope it works!!!

Today's teaser, as the public demanded, is a fight sequence. :-D It's
the first, fairly short fight sequence of the novel. The big fight is
towards the end between the MC and a Therian, but I doubt that'll be
posted. It would give away too much of the story.

Hope everyone enjoys this!

***

"I regret to say that you have gathered the interest of those who would
see you dead, and have hired us to make it so." The speaker answered,
his tone conveying some small regret, which Ilario almost believed. "As
for the Circle of Thirteen, our number will rise again; no matter if
only one of us survives."

Sighing in an exaggerated, defeated manner, Ilario slumped. As he did
so, his stowed his left hand beneath his belt. There, his fingers
grabbed two slender, silver throwing-blades.
"So be it," he cried loudly, as if in meek acceptance.

Spinning to his left, he threw the two blades safely past the horses and
driver of the carriage, striking the two women warriors on the other
side. He struck one cleanly in the throat, a killing blow, but the other
hit lower than he'd intended. She was bleeding freely from the neck, but
it would be a while before the fight was out of her.

"Take the horsemen ahead of us- leave the mounts!" He hissed to Akiela.
Praying she would have the skill to manage this, he charged the
dark-skinned speaker.

Issuing an ear-piercing shriek, almost but not quite a howl, Ilario
threw his dagger while running. It struck the warrior to his left in the
back of the head, but he had thrown badly in his anger. The blunt end of
the dagger hit the warrior, a thin male with short brown hair and a
scraggly goatee, at the base of the neck. Not dead, unfortunately, but
stunned enough to stagger. He fell against the middle attacker.

Placing his left foot against the falling warrior's back, Ilario pushed
off and tackled the final standing attacker. As they rolled across the
ground, he hoped he had given Akiela enough opportunity to gain her feet
and initiative.

The broad-featured warrior Ilario had tackled was trying to get to his
feet. Ilario snapped the man's neck and hurried to his own feet; looking
to see what had become of Akiela's situation.
Akiela was pulling the twin of his own weapon out of the warrior he had
stunned with the dagger throw. Now both of the warriors were dead at her
feet. She smiled at him, nodded, and then turned to face the remaining
Circle members.

The two of them charged in, cutting through the remaining warriors
without uttering a single word. Ilario was too much of a professional to
take his attention away from the battle for long. He did it often enough
to know that Akiela did not require further help- she was dispensing
death efficiently.

General Ramblings

2009-06-27T20:03:00.001-07:00

Wellll.... We're over half-way through with the current WIP and I have a writer's critique group meeting tomorrow. Since I've been assured romance scenes in the current YA genre can get a bit, um, edgy, Akiela's age is being dropped to 18 or 19. That way we can query either way. :)

Nothing exciting going on, yet. Still eagerly looking forward to the ComicCon in San Diego! Yay! My first Convention! We're going to the beach while out there.... Yay! First time to the beach! (yeah, pathetic... but oh well.) Hopefully we can fulfill our agendas while there. ;-) My fellow purgies know what it is, lol. Either way, we're gonna have a great time and the kids will get to see CA and have fun, too.

Oh, yeah, did I mention this will be my FIRST VACATION EVER?!?!?!?!?

hopefully July will bring less stress (yeah, right, lol), and good news to everyone.

Me, I'd settle for finishing the novel, ComicCon (obviously), and starting the querying for the current WIP.

editing might be a pain, but at least it keeps me busy, out of trouble (ok, only so much *wink*), and speeds up the querying part.

Teaser Tuesday

2009-06-22T17:01:00.000-07:00

I'm thinking this might be the last I post of the current WIP. Don't want to give away too much, after all.

Anywhos, another scene with Gardev, this time with Giada.

******

Three hours later, Gardev stood in the reception area of Warlord Vittore Giada’s office. He stood stoically, wanting nothing more than to bite and run, but that certainly wasn’t about to happen. Not when he was required to hand the warlord Akiela’s report and answer whatever questions Giada had for him.

Akiela, he reminisced, was a beautiful, sultry woman with more secrets than an alchemist. The warm blood that flowed through her veins and reddened her lush, full lips would make any man desire to feast from them. There was a softness hidden beneath that world-weary, hardened pale-turquoise gaze of hers that enticed and teased. Ilario was smitten with her, it was obvious in the way the merchant looked at her and spoke her name. He might have cared for Tiziana, but Gardev suspected Ilario was falling for his copper-haired spy.

That wouldn’t have worried him, had it not been for the fact Akiela had heightened senses no mortal could possess. She wasn’t one of the undead or a dhampir, nor was she a Therian. She didn’t resemble the diwaryns he had known in his lifetime. They had mostly been dark-haired, dark-eyed with athletic builds and were anything but reclusive, secretive spies. Nay, they had been hardened warriors, almost from the day of their birth.

He contemplated what else she might be as he studied the map that covered the entire wall. Half-gods were known to possess the same traits she claimed. As did half-demons and half-jinni. If she were either of those, she could, indeed, be a valuable asset.

Yes, he mused as he waited, she must be the offspring of a jinni and a human. That would certainly explain her unusual eyes and hair, as well as her peculiar traits.

His lips curved into a smile. Ilario could certainly benefit from courting her. Fresh blood was always welcomed amongst the clans.

The door to Giada’s inner, private sanctum, more commonly referred to as ‘his office’ opened, breaking into Gardev’s thoughts. Turning to face the secretary, he discovered the warlord himself standing in the doorway, a brooding expression filling Giada’s features.

“Gardev Akaash,” the warlord said without preamble, which in Gardev’s experiences was never a good sign. “I should have known Ilario would have sent you. I presume you have kept your fangs out of Akiela’s neck?”

“As well as her wrist,” Gardev replied evenly. “I’m surprised you aren’t concerned about her being alone with Ilario.”

“Vedette has a reputation for being a gentleman. You have a reputation-”

Gardev broke into Giada’s sentence, finishing it for him, “-for being a womanizer who enjoys their sweet blood; yes, I know. I worked hard to obtain that reputation. It is much preferable to that of ‘cold-hearted and blood-thirsty vampire’, don’t you think?”

“Barely,” Giada growled, stepping back into his office and gesturing for Gardev to enter. “Where’s the report?”

Gardev flashed his fangs in a wide smile knowing it would annoy Giada as he stepped into the warlord’s office. As tempting as it was to bite into Giada’s neck and tear out his artery while feasting upon his finely aged blood, he knew it would never happen. Urshad needed the hard-hearted warlord and killing him, no matter how appetizing it might seem, would only cause more damage than it would solve.

The dark growl that followed him as he continued to the warlord’s desk could have matched Ilario at his worse. Gardev would have found that amusing, had it not been for the fact the warlord had bested him not once, but twice in the not-so-distant past. He didn’t wish to attempt a third battle with the man. Especially not when Ilario needed him and there was much work to be done if they were to prevent the Consortium from overtaking the Protectors and wrecking havoc on all Urshad.

Teaser Tuesday

2009-06-16T07:12:00.000-07:00

Right... It's Tuesday again and I have yet another teaser from The Shiftless. Ok, so maybe I shouldn't be posting so much, but.... it seems to be going over good and I'm leaving out A LOT of stuff. A lot of rather important stuff, too, lol.

Anywhos, I figured I'd throw out my world-building bit on the vampires and Therians and see what you guys think of it. Now, I left out an important tidbit here, that tells which one she is, sooo.... no guessing here!!! If you wanna guess, post over at AW... :D

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I trust you to keep your word to Giada, Ilario,” Akiela replied calmly, though she felt anything but calm.

Ilario shrugged as the vampire raised a questioning brow. “I had to assure Vittore that she would be unharmed. It was the only way he would allow her to spy for us.”

“Just when were you going to tell me that?” Gardev groaned.

“Wait a moment,” Akiela interjected, her frazzled mind focusing on her beloved adopted uncle. “You know Giada? Why would Giada making Ilario promise to keep me safe be a problem?”

Gardev barked a laugh. “Warlord Giada may not be a dhampir, but his reputation for being a vampire hunter is widely known, as is his pension for surpassing even the worse necromancer when it comes to dealing death. He has the skills and means to flay a man alive and he has done it, quite literally, on more than one occasion.” Gardev gave Ilario a dark glare as he added, “Vittore Giada is also known to hunt anyone who crosses him, or breaks a vow. He doesn’t care who or what that person is, either.”

“Concerned for her, now, are you, Akaash?” Ilario chortled. “I would have told you later, before you tempted to enthrall or feed from her.” At Akiela strangled wordless exclamation Ilario assured her, “Strigoi turn only those they desire. Simply feeding from a person will not do it.”

“It will, however, create a dhampir, if we feed from a woman with child,” Gardev intoned. “It’s why few of us ever feed from a pregnant woman. Once a century or two, there are dhampirs born by a vampire who has not yet transformed into their undead state. That only happens during intercourse and within a six-hour period of time. Some claim that there are vampires that can sire children even after their transformations, creating dhampir in the process. There supposedly hasn’t been one for over five hundred years. It’s very, very rare and those dhampir can sense therian and vampire, alike, as well as any other undead creature." He paused, seemed to consider his next words, then continued in a calm, dismissive tone, "You don’t strike me as a diwaryn, either."

“A what?” Akiela asked, her unsettled nerves finally calming down to where she didn’t want to run away screaming. The more Gardev spoke, the calmer she felt, as though a part of her knew he wasn’t a danger to her or Ilario.

Ilario glared at Gardev as he answered her question, “A diwaryn is the therian equivalent to a dhampir. Therians can only mate with others of their kind, other shapeshifters, in order to procreate or by turning people through their bites. Typically, if one is bitten, they die. The only way a diwaryn can be born is if a mortal has been bitten and manages to survive the bite. If that miracle occurs, then they can spawn a child within twelve hours, even then, more often than not, a child is rarely sired. As with demigods, a mortal woman must have a strong constitution to not only carry the child to full term, but to birth it.”

“Who was your father, child? Perhaps we know of him,” Gardev said, his eyes glittering like gems.

Akiela found herself staring at them, intrigued by their brightness. Gems, nothing, they’re like green stars in the midnight sky, she thought. She glanced at Ilario, finding his eyes to be like dark pools that were more sinfully delicious to drown in. “I honestly don’t know who my father was. My mother never spoke of him.”

Teaser Tuesday - Gardev's Intro

2009-06-09T07:47:00.000-07:00

Well, I thought I'd post the intro of the vampire, Gardev, today. He's a delightful chap, not the typical cold-hearted, blood-thirsty type that goes with the typical mythos... not exactly the sweetheart of your typical romance, either. No back story required for this one, so hopefully this will keep you curious as to what comes next.

****

Chapter Four

Twilight. The time between day and night when neither moon nor sun has set or risen in the sky. It is when the therians and vampires start to prowl the night looking for their next victim.

Cloaked in darkness, a figure watched as the pirate Corentin, more commonly known as the Fox, shuffled drunkenly towards a side alley. Corentin was widely despised in several lands, especially Urshad. The Fox was a first mate on the Wicked Siren and often took a month away from his duties to enjoy entertainment found only on land. It was fortunate that he had found the Fox as he awaited his compatriot. He had a personal vendetta to settle with Corentin and the fact no one would care if this lowly pirate met death only made it that much sweeter.

Well, people might not hate the fact the Fox was dead, but he doubted anyone would be thrilled with the method if it was discovered. Shrugging the possibilities of being caught or his methods discovered he followed the drunken pirate silently into the alley. The sharp tang of rum flowed behind the pirate and the man licked his lips. He hoped it had been decent rum; he’d hate to not be able to enjoy his forthcoming meal.

The pirate paused and lifted the empty bottle, letting the last few vestiges of the drink drip into his open mouth before throwing it against the brick building. Glass shattered, breaking the air and the Fox’s assailant took that opportunity to sweep forward with an inhuman speed.

Gripping the man’s throat with one hand, he jerked the Fox’s head backwards as his other arm snaked around him in an iron-tight grip. Hissing softly, he bit into the pirate’s neck, his fangs sinking into his flesh. Despite the pirate’s thrashing and struggling, Gardev drank deeply from the man’s throat. The rum added a tasty tang to the man’s blood; one reason why Gardev enjoyed praying upon drunkards.

Unlike most of the Strigoi from the Shades of Death, Gardev only preyed upon those who were deserving of death, like the pirate he now fed from, or those willing to give him the blood he needed to survive. That wasn’t to say he couldn’t be evil and cruel enough to take what he wanted, when he wanted. Gardev believed he was civilized and above such depravity.

Instead of drinking all the blood from him, which would have been far too suspicious, he drank his fill and then snapped the man’s neck. Sliding a dagger from his belt, Gardev sliced the man from ear to ear, being certain to cut through the fang marks.

Dropping the body to the ground, he licked the last few drops of blood from his lips and sauntered off into the dark. He wouldn’t feed for another night or two, a distinct advantage since he was to be traveling with his compatriot for the next week. Perhaps if he were fortunate they would be stopping in his favored villages where he had a few ‘donors’ who enjoyed the benefits of being fed from by a vampire.

A sly smile curled his lips as Gardev made his way to the inn where he was staying. Despite the fact most feared and hated the Strigoi, there were those who enjoyed pain and bleeding while having enjoying a romp in the hay, as the old adage went. It didn’t hurt that simply being fed from by a vampire would not turn one into a vampire, despite rumors. Though, feeding from a pregnant woman did affect an unborn child. No one truly understood why. Such was the mystery of life and the undead.

He also wasn’t going to complain about the few brothels that catered to the Strigoi, courtesy of a truce made centuries ago. The Strigoi would protect said brothels from all harm and danger. In return, they could feed without fear of being killed. Of course, said brothels were forced to keep that bit of information secret. A pity the therians didn’t have anything similar, but that was their choice.

Glancing around the darkness one last time, Gardev entered the inn, a wide smile on his lips. Music drifted to his ears along with the distinct stomping of feet and feminine laughter.

Ah, the dancing girls have finally arrived! He thought cheerfully, striding towards the lounge. I do hope Rio takes his time arriving. He enjoys interrupting my fun far too much.

A Pleasant Surprise

2009-06-06T05:39:00.000-07:00

Well, I was playing in MySpace last night checking out the lastest blogs that have been posted and decided to read Kevin J. Anderson's blog on contest winners wondering who the lucky ones were... and one of 'em was ME!!!

This is THE FIRST time I have won anything from a contest like this! I've entered, I've wished, and I've lost. And, the coolest part isn't just winning an autographed HARDCOVER, but the fact it's Enemies and Allies, the newest Batman/Superman mash-up by KJA. (Who I'm hoping to actually MEET while in San Diego at the ComicCon!)

Speaking of ComicCon, the zoo is out due to budget restraints, but we're still taking the little ones around Little Italy for lots of pictures and window-shopping and the beach, so it's not a completely loss. We can always take 'em to the Washington D.C. zoo next year... maybe before we go to New York? ('cause I really want to go to New York next year, too!) It'll be interesting to see if we can pull New York off since we're hoping to get our own house next year, too, lol. But I have faith that we'll manage to make it happen. :-D

Silver Phoenix

2009-06-03T09:10:00.000-07:00

Well, this is a bit late coming, but Cindy Pon's debut novel, the Silver Phoenix, is out in stores now! Go buy your own copy!!! Or check it out from the library!

Here's the linky to her blog post : http://cindypon.com/silver-phoenix/

the blurb :

on the day of her first betrothal meeting--and rejection--ai ling discovers a power welling deep within her. she can reach into other people’s spirits, hear their thoughts, see their dreams…and that’s just the beginning.

ai ling has been marked by the immortals; her destiny lies in the emperor’s palace, where a terrible evil has lived, stealing souls, for centuries. she must conquer this enemy and rescue her captive father, while mythical demons track her every step. and then she meets chen yong, a young man with a quest of his own, whose fate is intertwined with hers. here is a heart-stopping, breathtaking tale for fans of action, fantasy, and romance--of anything with the making of legend.

Teaser Tuesday

2009-06-01T18:53:00.000-07:00

Word count on snippet: 849 (total word count in WIP so far: 15,329)

Currently on "the Shiftless": Akiela has been assigned the task of spying for the merchant guild known as "The Protectors" in an effort of discover who is killing the Protectors off. After being escorted to her home by Ilario (the Protector who asked her guardian and her employer for assistance) he becomes an unwelcomed houseguest. The following morning he gives her a necklace with a charm that she is forbidden to remove. They depart for Leishii in a comfy carriage. It's a two week journey and Akiela is now wanting answers.

writer's request: is the information I put in about the Consortium (towards the end) too much backstory and more 'telling than showing'? I was hoping to have it where she's kinda going over it in her mind, so let me know if it needs reworking??? Many thanks ahead of time and hope you enjoy it!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The glass windows returned her reflection and she stared at the necklace. It was an unusual emblem, to say the least. From the delicate gold chain hung a griffin poised in a typical heraldry stance on the bottom tip of a crescent moon. The griffin she understood to represent the Protectors reputation to be guardians of the merchants; it was one reason they were so powerful. The moon, however, baffled her. Regardless, it was rather pretty and at least it wasn’t silver. She’d never been too fond of silver.

“Will you now tell me what you know of the murders?” Akiela asked, her voice soft as she continued to stare out the window.

Ilario sighed and Akiela glanced back to him. The conflicting emotions of anger, grief, and despair warring on his handsome features took her by complete surprise. It also caused her to turn completely to him, ignoring the passing countryside.

“There have already half a dozen murders and even more attempted assassinations. I won’t bore you with the details,” he paused and Akiela frowned darkly. “Very well, I will tell you the details. All were killed in grisly manners. Two were beheaded before being slashed to ribbons, their entrails placed in a circle around their bodies then burned. Another was dismembered, beheaded, and their torso branded with a six-sided star within a triangle.” He paused, leaned across to the window and pulled the thick curtain closed. He explained softly, “It is a ritualistic symbol of the undead covens that claim the Shades of Death as their home. Do you truly wish to know about the last three?”

“Yes, as well as what weapon you believed was used in these gruesome murders,” Akiela replied, crossing her feet at her ankles. She felt pity and remorse for Ilario’s friends and fellow Protectors. No one should die in such horrific ways. She added softly, “I’m sorry.”A small smile crossed Ilario’s lips. “Thank you, Akiela. The last three were staked to the ground like a child would pin a butterfly to a piece of wood. All were beheaded and burned. As for the weapons used? We don’t know. All but two were men.”

“What of the attempts? Did no one see their attacker?” Akiela asked.

Ilario shook his head. “The attempts were made either at night while they were sleeping or by way of poison or gas.”

“So essentially, I’m there to spy on everyone; servants, accolades, and apprentices as well as other merchants, traders, and the occasional guard? Do you not have any idea on who could be trying to destroy the Protectors?” Akiela pressed, leaning forward slightly.

“We… have our suspicions, but without proof there is nothing we can do,” Ilario conceded. “That is why we need you.”

Akiela snorted delicately. “Suspicions? If you have suspicions, I want to know who they are, Ilario. Otherwise, I’m going to be walking into a den of angry hydras and I’m going to be a mighty tasty treat. That isn’t a very appetizing thought. I’d rather know who you think is the behind the murders and attempts so I can either prove or disprove your theory.” She paused and leaned calmly against the back of her plush seat. “Otherwise you can just send me back to Marzwin and I’ll explain to Giada you aren’t the least bit concerned about my safety or well-being.”

Ilario, Akiela could tell, considered her words as he chewed the inside of his lower lip. His dark eyes betrayed no thoughts or emotions; they were flat and calculating.
“Very well. We believe it to be the members of the Draugar Consortium. The Strigoi, to be exact.”

Akiela inhaled sharply. She knew of the Draugar Consortium. Who, in Urshad and most of the lands surrounding the Shades of Death, didn’t? It was a loose allegiance comprised of vampires, leiches, and therians. They had a sort of compromise amongst each other that divided the Shades of Death up into territories and, of course, the vampires claimed the largest section with the privilege to invade any other part without prior warning.

The leiche, magic users whose use of dark magic allowed them to live even after their mortal deaths, kept to the caverns and tunnels deep beneath the mountains of the Shades of Death, content to prey upon the dwarves and vast array of unsuspecting miners. Sunlight was a leiche’s worse enemy.

The vampires, favoring the title of Strigoi, held themselves in a very high regard. They claimed the cave entrances and preyed upon the unwary and unsuspecting travelers that dared the Shades of Death during the night. Of course, they also fed from the villages, towns, and cities that surrounded the edge of the Shades, being careful to not be caught or followed. The shapechangers typically lived on the outer most edge of the Shades, or in the Great Swamp, their own meals consisting of not only the frequent mortal, but the farm animals and wildlife, as well.

If the Stigoi, worse yet, the entire Consortium, were now trying to destroy the Protectors, the situation must be dire, indeed.