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. 

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.

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. 

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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…

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!!!!
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“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.” 

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.

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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.”