C.A. Szarek Author

P is for Proposal

2012-02-29T10:47:00.004-06:00

So, this is the first of the letters that the characters are entirely original, as in they do not appear in any of my books.

I needed a bit of help naming the girl in this story, so I reached out on FB and had a small contest. One of friends, Kelly, won and named Imena!

So, meet Imena and Halden, who will definitely show up later. I love them and I can't wait to write their full story.

WARNING: This is a sex scene. The first letter that is not PG-13. So, if you're under 18 please don't read it. It's not as detailed as Jensen and Kes (On my Pieces of Me page) but it still...happens. Anyway, you're warned!

Hope it helps w/ midweek blues!

            “I most certainly will not.” His chuckle and rakish grin just made her blood boil even more. She backed away when he caressed her cheek. Halden laughed again.
            “You know you want me.” The statement was the confident tone he always used with her. Her cheeks burned and she took another step back. He spoke the truth, but confirmation would never come out of her mouth. She met his gaze head on.
            “I am a lady.”
            “And I am a knight. Who we are has nothing to do with how we feel.”
            He came toward her, his gray eyes half-lidded. Imena gulped. She couldn’t back away anymore or he would have her against a wall.
            “I’ve seen how you look at me, Imena. Neither of us is naïve, love. Let’s do what I know we both want.”
            “Don’t call me that.” She crossed her arms over her chest. Her heart picked up speed as his gaze raked her face, then her body. She trembled. He was right. She did want him. She had from the first time she’d laid eyes on him.
            Halden grabbed her hand and pressed a warm kiss to her knuckles. She tried to yank away but he held her fast, grinning against her skin. “I’ll be gentle,” he whispered.
            “No,” Imena answered, shaking her head. He chuckled again.
            “No? You don’t want gentle?” His brow went up and heat crept up her neck. Her chest heaved, her gown constricting. The fire he’d started in the small fireplace must be doing its job.
            He kept advancing, still holding her hand as she backed up once, then twice. The rough wall of the roadside traveler’s cabin hit her back, jarring her.
Halden was close, but they weren’t touching. She could feel the heat of his body, the contrast with the coolness against her shoulders even more prominent.
            The clean masculine spice of him mixed with the cut wood he’d just put into the fireplace. It swirled around her, heady and inviting.
           She should have known better than to agree to stopping for the night in the tiny building, instead of continuing on until they found a village and an inn. The pouring rain had really been the decision maker for them, but Imena didn’t trust herself with him. Close quarters would only make it worse.
            He wouldn’t force her, she knew him well enough to know that, but one kiss and he wouldn’t have to. They’d played this game for months. He’d just been the one to finally speak up.
            Their skin, hers naturally golden—a trait of most Ascovans—and his pale, as he was from the north, made her think of them entwined. Her eyes were glued to his hand on hers.
            Halden stepped forward, his muscled chest pressing against her breasts. Imena was pinned. His mouth came down on hers and then his tongue was there, pressing, plundering. She melted into him on a moan.
            Imena should stop him, she needed to pull away, but her traitorous body was already on fire for him so she leaned in, her hands seeking, her lips rubbing against his more insistently.
            “I want to hear you admit you want me,” he breathed, pulling away from their kiss and staring into her eyes.
            “I…want…you,” Imena managed, her chest heaving against his, her body flushed with warmth.
            His gray eyes flared and he seared her mouth with another kiss, pulling her away from the wall, hard up against his chest.
            She was on the small bed and he was on top of her in moments, the heady rush wiping conscious thought away. Imena was overwhelmed by him. She strained to hold on when he pulled away, his mouth slanting over hers again.
            “Relax, Imena,” Halden said, amusement in his tone. “I just want to get undressed.” He caressed her cheek, then straightened, yanking his tunic over his head and off. She stared at his bare, muscled chest.
            She was really going to do this. She was about to experience her first intimacy with a knight known to be a womanizer. Was she crazy? Yes, crazy for him. She had been from the start.
            Imena would focus on how he made her feel and worry about her heart later…if it wasn’t already too late.
            They were naked and he was back on the bed with his skin against hers too fast for her to be embarrassed about being naked with a man for the first time in her life. He kissed her into oblivion, his hands stroking, coaxing, tender, and all consuming at the same time. She arched into him, kissed him fiercely and begged for more.
            Halden was gentle as he joined their bodies, as he’d said he would be, but Imena clung to him until the pain passed. He kissed her and whispered her name against her mouth. Her heart pounded against his. He was treating her with such care. More than she could have imagined. Did he feel something for her after all?
            He started to thrust and she whimpered. “Shhh…” he said with another kiss. “Let me show you…” Halden moaned and Imena shot her arms around his neck, trying to get closer.
            She moved with him, under him, needing more. She cried out as he took them higher and higher. Halden had her ensnared. She rubbed her breasts against his chest and they both groaned. She didn’t want him to stop moving in and out of her.
            Pleasure hit her in a wave and her whole body tightened at the same time Halden shouted his release. He yanked her against his chest and fused their mouths as his erection jerked inside her. She shivered in his arms.
            After cleaning them up, he slid back into the small bed, pulling her into his arms. Holding her close, Halden kissed her forehead, cheeks and lips. His hands stroked, comforted, as they caressed her shoulders, moved down her back and Imena snuggled closer on a sigh. He made her feel wanted, needed. Cherished. Her heart skipped a beat.
            “I’m glad I took a moment to prepare the bed,” Halden joked, the rakish grin back in place. Instead of her normal fury at that particular expression on his face, Imena laughed.
            “Thank you,” she whispered, caressing his chest.
            His eyebrow shot up. “For?”
            “Making…it special.”
            “Imena, love, it was special.”
            She swallowed hard. “Now what?” Her father, younger brother to the Duke of Ascova, had plans for her. Plans that didn’t include giving herself to a knight—outside of marriage no less.
            “What do you mean?”
            “My father expects you to see me to Terraquist, to the King’s Court, safely.”
            “I never said you wouldn’t get there safely. You just won’t need to look for a husband.” Her heart stuttered.
            “What are you saying?”
            “You don’t think I would take your innocence and not wed you?” Halden sounded offended. She looked into those steel orbs.
            “If you intended to offer for me, you could have done it without us leaving Ascova.” He grinned and her heart sped up again.
            “Then I wouldn’t have had you to all to myself. Your father, smart man. He watches you closely.” She snorted and his grin widened.
            “If that were true, he wouldn’t have let you escort me alone.” Halden winked.
            “Oh, love. He hasn’t a clue. I told the others to get lost before we left. Paid them off so I could have you alone.”
            “But why?” Her whisper caught him off guard. His beautiful eyes widened and his hold on her tightened.
            “It’s true, I wanted you…had to have you, but…I…” he looked away. She bit back the urge to gasp. The rogue knight unsure of himself? It was unheard of. “The truth is, I love you. I’ve fallen in love with you.” His words were rushed and when he met her eyes again, she could have sworn his cheeks were pink.
            Imena kissed him. Halden groaned and deepened it. Their tongues dueled and she was lost to him, as she would be always.
            He tore himself away, his gaze hazy with passion as their eyes met. They both panted. “Do I get an answer?” he breathed.
            “Did you ask me a question?” Imena moved even closer, her heart thundering. Evidence that he was ready for her again was hot against her thigh.
            “Lady Imena Gallard, will you be my wife?”
            She grinned, throwing her arms around his neck. “Yes, Sir Halden Gardon, I will.”
            He pressed her gently into the bed and showed her how much he appreciated her answer.

All rights reserved; copyright © C. A. Szarek. The text within may not be reproduced in whole or in part or distributed in any form whatsoever OR SOLD without first obtaining permission from the author.

O is for Oracle

2012-02-27T06:46:00.002-06:00

This one takes place the farthest in the past as far as my timeline is concerned. The twins in this story are the mothers of Cera (A, E, M--my heroine in Sword's Call) and Avery (B--also a character in Sword's Call)

Hope you enjoy. It's an important look in the past and a clue to Sword's Call's stoy line. ;)

Happy Monday!

“You have told hold my hands, Evie!” Frustration evident even to herself, Emeralda met her sister’s gray eyes—a mirror of her own.
Actually, it wasn’t just Everalda’s eyes that matched hers. They were identical twins, so they matched from head to toe.
“I don’t want to do this, Emie! I told you a hundred times.”
“But I want to know who I shall marry, and I can’t do it without you!” She would resort to begging, but didn’t think it would help much.
Evie had always been upset that her magic wasn’t as strong as Em’s, but at least she still got visions. They just usually weren’t as long or clear as Em’s. But to see the far future, she needed her twin. Although, even then it wasn’t a guarantee.
Their mother’s caution about the misuse of magic flitted into her mind but she disregarded it and stared at her sister. Forcing visions could have consequences. Em would worry about that later.
“I hope you marry an old toad,” Evie said, crossing her arms over her chest. Em giggled. Her sister’s expression was too silly to take seriously.
“If I marry an old toad, so will you.” Her twin bit her lip in an attempt to keep a straight face, but was soon giggling, too. They beamed at each other. “Please Evie? I won’t make you do anything with magic that you don’t want to do, ever again.”
“I don’t believe you.” Evie raised an eyebrow at her.
“I’ll try,” Em answered. She leaned forward, smiling sweetly.
“All right, but you will owe me. No argument.” Em winced.
That was never good, but to find out who she would marry was worth almost anything her sister wanted her to do, even switching with her to take an exam from their hardest tutor. She nodded and Evie grinned.
They joined hands and Em closed her eyes. Evie would do the same, as their mother had taught them. She opened herself to her magic, feeling it tingle along her arms, moving to and from her sister as well.
Sweat broke out on her brow as she delved even further, sensing her twin right with her. She wanted to see her future so badly. Em reached mentally, taking Evie along with her, guiding them because her twin wasn’t strong enough to lead, but together they were stronger.
She heard laughter first. The scene opened unto an unfamiliar courtyard so real it was as if they were really there. It was lavishly decorated with fresh flowers on anything with a surface or a place to hang them. A wedding celebration. Her heart leapt and her sister squeezed her hand. Good, Evie was still right with her.
Em saw a dark haired man with a redheaded girl on his arm. The girl was glowing in the pale green gown she wore. The couple smiled at each other. Love was evident.
But the girl was not Em. Instinctively she recognized the girl an older version of Evie.
Magic told her that her twin felt it, too. Disappointment threatened. Evie hadn’t even wanted to see who she would marry! Her twin sensed her feelings through their joined hands and gave her a squeeze of comfort.
A moment later, out of the castle door, another redheaded girl emerged.
She was holding her pale blue gown high, practically running toward the couple. On her heels was a handsome man with golden brown hair. They were both laughing as he gave chase and Em knew her older self loved the man. He was the man she would marry. Her heart pounded in her twelve turn old body and Evie squeezed her hand again.
It made sense that they would get married together, they did everything else together. The man caught her and swept her up into his arms. Her heart stuttered as he kissed her older self. Evie and her dark haired man smiled at each other as they watched, hands entwined.
The atmosphere clouded, becoming dark like a thunder storm rolling in. The vision they’d sought was taken over, becoming a premonition Em had no control over. It happened like that sometimes, she saw…things. She’d never dragged Evie along with her, but their shared magic would make it stronger.
The two happy couples vanished, being replaced by a dark man riding a black horse. A maniacal laugh jarred Em and she clung to her twin’s hand. Evie held her just as hard, nails digging in.
Scenes flashed before their eyes that two young girls should never see. Death. Blood. Magic.
It moved faster and faster, showing more and more horrors. Someone screamed, but Em couldn’t tell if it was real or a part of the vision. She tried to pull out, stop the magic but she couldn’t. Evie was just as helpless; she sensed her sister’s struggle to keep pace.
Her chest constricted. She couldn’t breathe. It was as if they were drowning.
“Stop,” she shouted, squeezing her eyes shut.
Em panted, her chest heaving as the images finally ceased. They didn’t fade slowly, like most premonitions, but dissipated at once. Relief washed over her and she opened her eyes, meeting Evie’s gray gaze.
They said nothing to each other. Evie had tears streaming down her cheeks. The twins reached for each other at the same time. Hugging, clinging and sobbing.
Loss of control of her magic was the worst part of an unsought vision and Em had never been so frightened in her life. Her heart was still galloping, as was her sister’s.
“Dark magic,” Evie whispered against her shoulder. Em pulled back and wiped the moisture from her cheeks, then her sister’s.
“You felt it, too?” Her twin nodded.
“We have to tell Mother,” Em said.
“Tell her what?” Evie’s eyes were wide, her body shaking.
“Something’s coming, Evie. Something bad.” Her sister swallowed hard, tears welling up all over again.
The only unknown was when it would arrive.

Savvy Authors - Pitch your book to Abby Rose of Lyrical Press

2012-02-24T09:43:00.000-06:00

Hey to all my writer friends: Savvy Authors is hosting Abby Rose of Lyrical Press today, and she is taking PITCHES!!!!!!!!!! WOOO!

You DO have to be a member of Savvy to do it, but you can join and do it. For those of you who don't know, they are an AWESOME resource!

Here's where you can join and/or pitch:
Savvy Authors - Pitch your book to Abby Rose of Lyrical Press

N is for Night

2012-02-24T06:44:00.001-06:00

Happy Friday! *yawn* No coffee yet, but I am on my way...I smell it brewing.

So, the title is a stretch and a play on words. But...I hope everyone loves this one as much as I do. In the timeline, I would say this is a about a year and a half after Sword's Call, and several months after the sequel, which is called Love's Call.

I love ALL these guys and I hope you do, too. Enjoy!

            Laith threw the empty stein at his brother, who of course, ducked. Everyone laughed. “I don’t know what he thinks is so funny, he’s getting married, too.”
            Leargan, his captain, slapped him on the back. “There’s no shame in admitting you love the lass you’re going to marry. None at all.”
            A few of his fellow knights made either amused or disparaging noises, and Laith looked into the crackling fire. He had no qualms about marrying Meara. He loved her. More than he loved his own life.
            He glanced around their scattered circle. They’d done this countless times. These men were all his brothers, despite the fact he only shared blood with one of them. Merrick, several turns older than his twenty, and not his favorite person at the moment, sat not far from him on a logged seat drinking from his stein.
            As if he knew he was on Laith’s mind, his brother grinned and lifted his mug in his direction. Laith scowled.
            “Oh, I was jesting, little brother.” Merrick laughed, as did a few of the other men.
            “He’s regretting his choice of weapon, is all,” Dallon said with a grin, bending to retrieve Laith’s discarded stein. The other knight brushed it off with a linen cloth and tossed it to Alasdair to refill.
            The oldest knight of the twelve, Alas grinned and handed Laith back his almost overfull mug. “Drink up, little one.” Laith cringed at the unwanted nickname. “You might need to be into your cups when you say ‘I do.’ Unless you’ve come to your senses?” A dark brow lifted. Merrick threw his head back and laughed. Alasdair shot him a look. “I don’t know what you’re laughing about, my friend. You’ve lost your mind and crossed over, as well.”
            “Crossed over?” Leargan asked, laughter in his tone. “You act as if marriage is a fate worse than death, Alas.”
            “Indeed. I love the lasses too much to choose just one.” The captain shook his head.
            “And I thought you’d referred to my bride as ‘lovely’ on more than one occasion.”
            “Aye, because she is yours, and not mine.” The men laughed and Laith shook his head. Alasdair went through woman like water.
            “I for one am glad that Mistress Ansley put our captain out of his misery,” Roduch, the biggest knight of the personal guard put in.
            “Thank the Blessed Spirit for that,” Leargan muttered.
            There was a round of hearty “Here heres” from the men and the captain’s face looked as if it would split with his grin.
            Niall, the second in command of the personal guard took a step forward and threw his arm around Alasdair’s shoulders. “That’s just because Alas hasn’t met the right lass.”
            “She doesn’t exist, I tell you,” Alasdair retorted, shaking his head. “I have a theory as to why.”
            “Oh, I can’t wait to hear this,” Bowen said, crossing his arms over his broad chest.
            “Yes, let’s,” Kale added, grinning.
            “Seeeeee…” Alas started, drawing out the word. He stood and commanded everyone’s attention. “There are too many lovelies in fair Greenwald to choose from. I adore Aurelia’s eyes. Maeve’s body was made to please a man. Betha has skills that rival them all and no one has breasts better than Nan. Their attributes are…diverse. I cannot possibly choose between them.”
            Someone muttered, “Oh, please.”
            “And that’s just one of the taverns he frequents,” someone else answered. Alasdair grinned.
            “He’s almost a bard,” Merrick said with a chuckle.
            “Don’t tell him that,” Padraig put in. “It will go straight to his…head.” That got several more laughs and Laith had the urge to roll his eyes.
“I’m with Alasdair,” Teagan announced. “I’m not a one lass man.”
            “Barely a man at all,” Padraig answered.
Laith sighed. He and Teagan were the youngest of the personal guard, and the jest was not uncommon. The other knight ignored the jibe, though.
            “Have you even had a lass?” Artan asked. Teagan’s face reddened but he held his ground with a growl. Alasdair threw his arm around Teagan’s shoulders.
            “Of course he has.”
            “Tons, I’m sure,” Padraig said, his tone dry.
            “Oh, Paddy. Quality is better than quantity,” Artan said, a smile on his scarred face.
            “Says the foolish married man,” Alasdair said with a curt nod.
            “Marrying Lyde was the smartest thing I’ve ever done,” Niall said, taking a drink of ale and coming closer to the fire. The other married knights, Leargan, Padraig, Artan, and Roduch nodded almost collectively.
            “You always were a bit daft,” Kale teased as he took a long draw from his stein.
            “Well, it matters not what you all think,” Merrick announced, coming over to Laith. “This night is about my little brother and me. Is it not?”
            “Because starting tomorrow, no night will be about you,” Alasdair quipped, starting another round of laughter.
            Conversation became the swapping of reprobate stories, with Alasdair, of course, leading the charge. Laith sat back and listened. No way would he add anything, least of all regarding Meara. What they shared meant more to him than any other woman he’d had. Trysts he now regretted. She’d give him her innocence, a gift he hadn’t deserved.
            He watched his brother laugh and joke with his fellow knights, but Merrick felt the same way about his Daicy. His older brother wasn’t adding much detail to the conversation, either.
Laith could deal with the ribbing from the men he saw as brothers, but if any of them was serious, he would take care of it. Not that any one of the men, Alas included, would honestly insult him or Meara. The personal guard meant too much to each other.
Since they’d come to Greenwald, life had changed, settled. Merrick, always a bit immature for being the older of the two had grown, and it didn’t only have to do with finding Daicy. Being a member of the Aldern personal guard meant everything to his brother—and to him. These men were family, and all of them, teasing aside, were overjoyed that it was once again expanding by two.
Children would come, his captain’s being the first, and they would grow up together in Greenwald. Laith wasn’t in a hurry to be a father, but he wanted that with Meara eventually.
His gaze once again swept over the courtyard and the fire, and his brothers. He couldn’t wait until tomorrow. This very spot, Meara at his side would begin another new adventure for him.
The first, when he’d become a knight, his older brother the one at his side. The second, when Leargan had asked him to be a part of his command, and the third—most important—when he would pledge his heart and soul to Meara in front of the Duke of Greenwald and the Blessed Spirit.
Laith smiled. He’d finally come home.

M is for Mine

2012-02-22T10:07:00.001-06:00

This one is right up there with the rest of my faves. Cera is really young here, about 14, which makes this story about 7 years before Sword's Call and even a year before A is for Ash, the first letter short.

Once again, my friend Kerry helped me out. She wanted a bonding story, so here it is!

Enjoy!

            Cera snuck into the cave, throwing a glance over her shoulder. Had she really been able to slip by her father’s men? She grinned and kept going, quickening her step.
            Whimpering caught her attention at the same time she heard the low growl.
            “Hush, Otsana. Come, child. Pay her no heed. She thinks she needs to protect her lot,” Karolyna gestured to the white she-wolf and four cubs nestled against her. Two were sleeping, two were not. Their coats were diverse. One was pure black, one several shades of gray. The third was reddish brown and the last, a miniature of its mother. It was the biggest cub and it took a step toward Cera, tiny tail wagging. She slid forward, smiling at the small wolf.
            “Won’t you sit, my lady?” Karolyna indicated a pile of pillows and sleeping furs covering the cave floor. Cera looked around the vast cavern while nodding and sitting down opposite the mage and her wolves.
The place was artificially warmed and lit by magic but not uncomfortable. Cera lowered the hood to her gray cape and spread it out as she tucked her breech-clad legs beneath her.
“It looks as if you have already been chosen,” Karolyna said, her tone pleased.
As she spoke, the white cub headed straight for Cera, tumbling into her lap, a warm bundle of fur. Her hands sought the cub, righting him against her. He licked her knuckles. She wanted to lift him up and look in his eyes, but the she-wolf’s deep growl stopped her.
“Otsana, my love, it is time,” the mage said. “She will belong to him, as I belong to you. She is meant to be his.” Karolyna rested her hand on the she-wolf’s flank. The beast whined but quieted. They locked eyes and the large wolf’s tail thumped.
They were communicating silently. Cera looked forward to that with her own bond, but she already knew how to thought-send. Her father, Lord Falor Ryhan, had been teaching her occasionally. The duke was a powerful mage. She could receive better than send, but she was working on it. She just needed practice.
Squirming in her lap, the cub bumped her hand with his little muzzle, demanding attention. She locked eyes with him and smiled. His were an odd hue, but it was one of changing colors. The blue of birth was fading. Would they settle into brown? Or amber like the she-wolf’s?
“I will be his? Won’t he be mine?” Cera whispered, but she didn’t look away from the creature that would be magically tied to her for life. Excitement flipped her stomach and she hugged him close. She would name him and raise him. They would do everything together.
Karolyna chuckled and she met her pale blue eyes. “Bonding is a partnership my lady, in the true sense of the word, but wolves are possessive. You will belong to him. And since he is male, no doubt he will feel as if he possesses you, his bondmate.”
Cera stared into the little cub’s eyes and lifted him to her face. The wagging of his tail increased and her smile slid into a grin. He lifted his head and swiped his hot little tongue up her cheek. Karolyna wore a smile as well when she looked back at the mage.
“He chose me?”
“It seems so, my lady. Sometimes they do the choosing for us.” Karolyna nodded and stroked her bond. The she-wolf was calmer than she’d been since Cera had entered the cave.
“How does this work?” She was eager to get it done and get home with her new bond. She’d left home alone and on foot. She didn’t have much time.
Her father was in Terraquist with the king and her mother had forbidden her from bonding when Cera had heard of the available litter. Bonding was final. If one party were to perish, the other would soon follow, so her mother would not be able to tear it asunder. She would forgive Cera’s disobedience…eventually. She bit back the urge to wince.
“To begin, we join hands. The cub must be touching your bare skin. Place your other hand on him and keep it there. I will chant the spell and draw the magic into the bond. We must not be parted until it is complete or it will damage you both.” Cera nodded.
“Have you ever done this before?”
Karolyna looked down for a moment before meeting Cera’s eyes. “I know how it is done.” Butterflies flitted in her stomach but Cera nodded. She wanted this. The bond and the wolf. He’d chosen her after all.
            “Let us begin.”
            She put her hand in the mage’s by way of answer. She buried her other hand in the downy fur of the wolf cub in her lap, and he leaned into her instead of trying to move away. It was almost as if he understood what would happen. She smiled and closed her eyes.
            Karolyna began to chant. Cera didn’t recognize the words or the spell, but she concentrated on being open to the magic as her father had taught her. The mage’s grip tightened on her hand but she didn’t pull away.
            Her limbs tingled, then began to burn, but it was a burn of power, not pain. She cracked open and eye and gasped. Her skin was glowing. The cub was aglow as well, and so was the mage. She opened both eyes, unable to look away from Karolyna.
The mage’s chanting increased and she began to rock back and forth. Cera was flushed with warmth and the cub yelped, but still stayed where he was, her fingers clinging to his fur, buried against his warm little body. She began to sweat and the cub started to pant.
Her head tilted back of its own accord and the strangest sensation hit her. Something…or someone entwined with her, but she couldn’t tell if it was mental or physical. And then Cera wasn’t alone in her own head. The cub was there. His thoughts…his feelings.
He loved her.
She looked down into her lap. The cub made an odd barking sound and licked her hand. She released her hold on him but he leapt into her arms, pushing as close to her as he could get.
Karolyna panted, her chest heaving and face gleaming with sweat. “My lady, it is done. You both did well. How do you feel?”
“A bit…odd. I feel him…in my mind.”
“Good.” Karolyna smiled. “It will only get stronger with time. You must meet with me several times a sevenday to train.”
Cera bit her lip. How would she sneak away? “Would it be something my father could do?” Karolyna’s face reddened and she looked down. Cera waved her hand. “No no, nothing against you. I’m not sure I can sne—get away.”
The mage’s pale eyes widened. “You did not have permission, my lady?” It was Cera’s turn to look down.
“The fault does not lie with you, Karolyna. You won’t get into any kind of trouble.” The older woman didn’t look comforted. Cera rushed her words. “My mother was against it, my father is not in Greenwald, but he wouldn’t have been. I will come back to you and learn what I can. I didn’t mean to put you in an awkward position. I wanted him. I had to have him.”
            Karolyna nodded, but her mouth was a hard line. The cub whimpered and Cera’s breath exited on a whoosh. She stroked his head and the cub cuddled closer.
            “Take care with your emotions, my lady. You are now sharing them.”
“I am, aren’t I?” she whispered, more to herself than to the mage.
“You must name him.”
Cera nodded, lifting the cub so they were face to face. His tail wagged so hard it was like a small fan, brushing air over her wrists. “You’re mine little one. I’ll call you Trikser.”
“A good, strong name.” Karolyna’s tone was pleased and Cera smiled.
The cub’s thoughts swirled around in her mind, more solid needs and vague feelings than anything else.
“Can you make out any of his thoughts?” the mage asked, as if she could sense what she was experiencing.
“It’s hard to make sense of,” she admitted.
“They will get clearer with time, as you and your bond mature.” Cera nodded.
She put him down in front of her and he placed his paw on her hand. The wolfing gazed up at her and thought-sent. It wasn’t a word in her mind, but the meaning was clear. Trikser was saying mine.
Cera grinned.

L is for Lucan

2012-02-20T06:47:00.003-06:00

Hopefully this will get me thru Monday! I had a LOOOOONG w/end and no coffee yet.

Meet Lucan. He's in Sword's Call in a big way and for those who have read the whole thing, I know of two people who have declared him their favorite character. He's a cute lil guy, so hopefully he will worm his way into other hearts. He is the hero of Dragon's Call (of which there is an excerpt on my "Pieces of Me" page).

This is probably a year or two before the Sword's Call.

Hope you enjoy the story. As always, comments are adored! :)

Have a good Monday!

             Lucan wiped the tears from his cheeks—again. He hid under the bed. He would stay there until someone dragged him out. How long would it be this time? If only his magic could make him invisible. He needed to learn a spell for that as soon as possible. Could he ask one of the masters without too many questions in return?
            “Lucan? Lucan, oh Luuuucaaaan...where are you?” The tone was cajoling. Lucan gulped. That meant he was even angrier than normal. “You’d better come out before I find you. You won’t like it if I find you. I promise.” There was a maniacal laugh. Lucan squeezed his eyes shut.
            What did Drazen want now? When would he leave him alone? What would he have to do to stop the torture? Martis wasn’t around, so the older boy couldn’t help him this time. Though Martis’s help always came at a price anyway. But Lucan would do all the magic Martis wanted him to if he would keep Drazen away from him. He would even make him a pile of gold coins.
They had no value and turned back into whatever he’d formed them from mere hours after their birth, but Martis always seemed to get away with spending them in the market. Neither of them had been caught—yet.
            “What are you doing, Drazen?” There was another voice. The elf wizard, Renard, one of the shade taskmasters. He wasn’t particularly nice to Lucan, but Renard was better than Drazen.
            “Nothing, Master.”
            “Come out of here. This is not your room.”
            “I was looking for something. I guess I didn’t leave it in here.” The lie fell from his lips smoothly, but that was always Drazen.
Renard muttered something in answer, but then the door shut. The voices and steady beat of footsteps faded as they got further away. Lucan’s chest heaved with his sigh.
            He scooted out from under his measly bed, sitting on the edge with a thump. When would this all end? Moisture hit the back of his cupped hands as they rested in his lap. He stared there for a moment. Crying again? At least he was alone. No one would see. No one could hit him for his tears.
Renard and Arius, another elf wizard taskmaster, had been praising him lately. They said he was almost ready. Almost ready for what? It wouldn’t be good news, no matter what.
Lucan didn’t want to be ready for anything that involved Lord Varthan, the true master of all the boys here. Shades, they were called. Their magic honed for Lord Varthan’s use.
The archduke had taken a liking to him, Arius had told him. Lucan had the strongest magic of them all, Renard had said. It was a wonder he wasn’t part elfin, they all whispered. He cringed. He didn’t want to be elfin. He didn’t want to be a shade, or a mage. He wanted to go home. But where was home? He’d come to the compound so young he remembered nothing else. He’d never wanted to be there.
The new boys always cried for their mothers, but Lucan didn’t remember his. Or his father. Did he have siblings? Where was he from? What Province were they in now? Everything was a secret. They were never allowed to go far—never un-chaperoned—and they picked up and moved at least two times a turn. Until Lord Varthan came. Until he picked who he wanted from the boys. Lucan didn’t want that. At all. He shook his head.
            Arius had said he would become one of the elite.
            “No,” Lucan whispered, his head falling into his hands.
            The elf wizards made him—made them all—do horrible things to test magical skill. Being with Lord Varthan would be even worse. Lucan had never been told that, but he just knew.
            Boys would leave to be the master’s elite and never return. He shuddered. Where did they end up? Even without confirmation, the grim set of the elf wizards’ expressions when news was received told the tale well enough. The shades were dead. That was why they never came back.
            Lord Varthan was a cruel man. Looking at him made Lucan want to wince. He rubbed his chin where the master had touched him during the last inspection the archduke had made of all the boys in the compound. The spot had burned at the lord’s touch. It had taken everything he was made of not to jerk away that day when Lord Varthan had titled his head up. Meeting those dark eyes had told him everything he needed to know. His master was pure evil.
            The tremble started at the base of his neck and worked its way down his spine, shaking his small body. His heart pounded. Lucan forced a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut.
            “Calm. Breathe,” he chanted. When he opened his eyes, he froze.
            He’d done it again. Lucan looked down. His bed about three feet beneath him. Nothing but air between his brown breeches and the thin mattress.
He’d levitated as soon as he’d let his senses go. It had been happening quite a bit lately. His skin was aglow as he extended his arms and legs, concentrating not to fall. He lay back as if the air was his mattress, spreading his magic across his limbs. The radiance of his body increased as he rose higher. Soon he was floating flat in the air as if he was in the lake the boys always bathed in.
This was about all the peace he’d ever get. He reached mentally for the ceiling, guiding himself even as he closed his eyes again. When he was nose to nose with the rough plaster, Lucan smiled. No one could touch him here. At least…for now.

K is for Kait

2012-02-17T06:51:00.004-06:00

HAPPY FRIDAY!! After a long week, I am really glad it's over. And I have my writers' meeting tomorrow, so I'm stoked about that, too.

Meet Kait, my heroine's younger sister. Oddly enough, when I decided I wanted to do the Alphabet Game, I wrote this one very early...around the time I did B, Avery's short. It is rather bittersweet, getting to know a character who means something to your heroine but doesn't make it into your book.

Anyway, this is sweet and lighthearted, so I hope you enjoy!

            Kait giggled and twirled in front of the mirror for the second time. The bright green gown—her favorite color—billowed, the puff of air under it tickling her ankles before the shimmery fabric settled.
            “Kait? Are you ready?”
            She glanced over her shoulder to smile at her older sister. Cera was already fidgeting in the gorgeous gray gown she was wearing. “Just about. I need to put my shoes on.”
            Cera gave her a once over and returned her smile. “You look beautiful, little sister. Happy birthday.”
            Kait beamed and twirled once more. “Thank you.”
            “So grown up.”
            Well, she was twelve today. That was practically grown. She was a lady after all. So was Cera, though she rarely looked it.
            “You look uncomfortable, sister,” Kait said. Cera flashed a weak smile and shrugged. It was unladylike, but Kait wasn’t about to point it out. Not that her sister would care, anyway.
            “Well, in honor of your birthday feast, Mother thought I should be properly attired.” Cera’s tone went up. It was a fair impression of their mother. Kait giggled and Cera’s smile slid into a grin, this time genuine.
            She was glad to see Cera, who’d come home from Terraquist, the capital, where she lived most of the time as a member of the King’s Riders, King Nathal’s messenger service.
            Trikser, her sister’s wolf, snuck into the room and jumped onto Kait’s bed. She squealed and waved her arms.
            “Get him down! Get him down!”
            “Relax, Kait. He’s not hurting anything,” Cera answered, though the wolf hopped down and seated himself near the fireplace. Her sister must have thought-sent to the beast, because Kait hadn’t heard Cera address him aloud.
            “I’ll tell Mother!” Kait regretted the threat even before Cera scowled. She hadn’t seen her older sister in months. She didn’t want Cera upset with her, especially on her birthday of all days.
            “If you must.”
            That was odd. She hadn’t yelled at her. “I’m sorry, Cera.” Kait bit her bottom lip and stared into her sister’s gray eyes.
Her own eyes were hazel, like their father. She did have red hair, but much lighter than Cera’s, which was a dark auburn hue like their mother’s. Kait had always wished for their mother’s coloring. Her older sister was so pretty.
            “It’s fine, Kait. It’s your bed, and your birthday. And you’re right. Mother would be upset if she saw Trik on my bed, let alone yours.”
            Kait threw her arms around her sister. Without hesitation, Cera squeezed her in a tight hug. They beamed at each other as they parted.
            “I missed you. Though I can’t really call you ‘little one’ anymore,” Cera said, looking her up and down again. “You’re getting tall.”
            Kait smiled at the reminder of her childhood nickname. “Mother says I’ll surpass her any time now.”
Her sister chuckled. “Not hard to do.” Their mother was about five and a half feet tall, and Cera several inches taller than that. Kait giggled.
Cera tucked an errant curl behind Kait’s ear. “Anya do your hair?” She nodded. “It looks really pretty.”
“Yours does, too,” Kait answered, gesturing to her sister’s pile of curls with flowers woven in. They were pale blue and looked nice with the soft gray hue of her gown.
“Thanks.” Her sister was different somehow, maybe more grown up.
Cera had recently turned nineteen, but their age gap had never bothered Kait. She still followed her sister around constantly, but to Cera’s credit, her sister was never mean to her, or told her to go away. But Kait liked being a lady, where her sister did not.
When it was obvious to her that her sister would rather shoot arrows than gush over a new gown, Kait had stopped trailing her for the most part. Their mother had been pleased.
“Mother and Father are waiting on us?” Kait asked.
“Yes, but we can’t start the feast without the guest of honor.”
Kait pushed her feet into the green slippers that matched her birthday dress and flashed another grin at Cera. “I’m ready.”
“Wait a moment,” her sister said. Cera disappeared into the corridor only to return a few minutes later. From behind her back, she pulled out a small package. It was wrapped in shiny green paper of Kait’s favorite shade. “This is for you.”
Kait grabbed the present, a giggle bubbling up. She loved gifts. Her birthday was her favorite time of year for precisely that reason.
“Can I open it now?”
“Sure.”
She ripped the paper off, not caring where it landed as it floated to the floor. Kait gasped when she opened the small box. An intricately etched gold brooch lay on a pad of white fluff. At the center of the pin was a deep green stone, oval in shape. She loved it.
“Cera…it’s beautiful,” she breathed.
“Do you like it? Father thought you’re still a bit young for such a thing—”
“I love it! I promise I’ll take care of it!”
Cera beamed and Kait hugged the brooch to her chest. “I’m glad you like it, little sister.”
“I love it, big sister. Will you help me put it on?” Cera nodded and pinned the brooch to Kait’s bodice with nimble fingers.
Kait stared at herself in the mirror for a moment. The trinket matched her gown perfectly. She squealed and her sister laughed. “Thank you so much!”
“You’re welcome. We should go.”
Cera threw an arm around her shoulders. Kait leaned into her tall sister, grinning. It was going to be a fantastic birthday feast. She didn’t even get irritated at her sister’s wolf when Trikser brushed her gown as he scrambled out of the room in front of them.

J is for Jonah

2012-02-15T10:19:00.006-06:00

Ugh. I had a migraine this morning, which is why the posting of this was delayed. Sorry about that, but headache is finally receding.

Okay, this one is my favorite. I love D and G as well, but this one is my first love so far. Jonah is a new character for me, and with her I did something I have NEVER done.

I based a character loosely on someone I know. One of my friends, Jo-Anna, joked when I was stuck on J that it should be for Jo-Anna and after brainstorming with the wonderful Kerry again, Jonah was born.

Bowen has been one of mine for a while, but in Jonah I suppose he's met it his match. I adore her, I hope you do, too.

As far as the timeline is concerned, this is probably a few years after Sword's Call. Don't have my finger on *exactly* where, but they will get their own full book because I am totally enamored with them.

The crash and shatter accompanied the wine soaking her boots. Jonah winced. Not again. Morag would have her head for breaking another wine jug, not to mention wasting the drink.
He turned around at the noise and their eyes met. Jonah wanted to melt into the floor.
            Why had she tried to cut through the baths on her way back into the castle? She could have at least called out that she was heading inside. But then again, she’d seen the knights of Lord Aldern’s personal guard leaving just moments before. She couldn’t have known there was still a man inside—a naked man. She blushed to her toes.
            “Are you all right?” His voice was deep and her eyes snapped to his. Light brown depths she could get lost in. Her face blazed, but she couldn’t look away.
            “Wh—wh—what?” He’d said something, right? What had he said?
            Enunciating as if she were daft, he repeated, “Are you all right, lass?”
Golden skin, muscles rippling as he turned toward her, he wrapped a bathing sheet around his trim waist. But not before she saw—everything. Her eyes traveled his body. The naked expanse of his back had nothing on his well defined chest. It was smattered with sandy curls that matched the hue of his slightly too-long locks. He didn’t have a muscle that wasn’t toned.
Jonah gulped.
            She took a step back and one corner of his mouth lifted. She wanted to cringe. There was no way he’d missed her perusal, but he said nothing.
            “I’m fine,” she finally managed. “Just…clumsy.” Had she really just said that? Had her face ever been so hot? “Sorry…to interrupt you. I…was just passing through.”
            He smiled and her heart stuttered. One dimple. He had one dimple it was perfect. “What’s your name?” He took a step toward her.
            “What?” Why had she asked him that? He was going to think she was an idiot.
            His eyebrow shot up and he took another step toward her, one hand on the linen at his waist. “I haven’t seen you around here.”
            “Oh. Right.” Jonah fidgeted, bending to retrieve her dropped tray and wincing as her eyes raked the shards of the wine jug. She clutched the tray in front of her with both hands, white knuckled. “I’m new. Jonah…I’m Jonah.” He smiled again and came even closer. Her heart thundered.
            “Bowen.”
“A knight of the personal guard?”
“One of the twelve.” He stuck his hand out and she stared at it. “You know, it’s customary to shake one’s hand in greeting, even outside of Greenwald.” The laughter in his tone made the tease obvious but Jonah jumped.
            “I—I—I’m sorry.” She bit her lip and slid her hand into his. A jolt of energy shot up her arm. Bowen must have felt something too, because their eyes locked. His lips parted and his chest heaved. Jonah struggled for breath. What happened?
            “Are you married?” he breathed.
            “No…” What kind of a question was that? He tugged on the hand he held and the tray clattered to the floor again.
            Moments later, warmth was encasing her. His arms slid around her and he pulled her closer. Jonah gasped but didn’t pull away. She couldn’t. She didn’t want to.
She could feel his body heat through the fabric of her tunic and his heart pounding against hers. Her body hummed in response. What was going on? She didn’t even know this man.
            Jonah looked into those almost golden eyes. Her heart skipped a beat. Bowen was staring right back, but then his eyes searched her face and his gaze stopped on her lips. He wasn’t going to…
            His mouth covered hers before the thought was complete. She opened without hesitation and pressed her body closer to his. Through the bathing sheet she felt his physical response and desire pooled low in her belly. Someone moaned.
            Their tongues dueled with mutual exploration. Jonah tightened her arms around him and Bowen pulled her even closer. They were melded, hips to hips, chest to breasts. Her legs weakened as he kissed her harder, desperately. Feeling rushed her body as never before. She’d been kissed, but not like this. Never like this. She didn’t know this man. But…she wanted him.
            Jonah pulled away with a gasp, her chest heaving. She splayed her hands on his chest. She needed to push him away, but ended up burying her fingertips in his sandy fuzz. Bowen loosened his hold, but did not release her.
            His eyes were half-lidded as she looked up at him, and the desire she saw there made her whole body flush. She trembled in his arms and forced a deep breath. She needed focus on something other than Bowen’s handsome face. She couldn’t speak.
            “I don’t know what to say,” Bowen whispered.
Jonah blinked and swept her tongue over her bottom lip. She could still taste him there. “Are you in the habit of kissing strangers?”
Bowen groaned. “No, but if you do that again I’ll have to kiss you again.” Jonah blushed and looked away. His arms dropped to his sides but he stayed close. Their bodies were still almost touching.
Callused fingers brushed her cheek and tilted her face toward him. Their gazes met and he smiled. His dimple flashed and Jonah’s heart skipped a beat. His touch was tender and she wanted more. “I won’t apologize for the kiss, but I am sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”
“You didn’t.” Bowen chuckled and Jonah found herself smiling. “Seeing your state of undress was…startling.” He grinned and re-tucked the end of the towel in, securing it.
“I’m sorry about that.”
“I’m sorry I dropped the wine. Morag will not be pleased.” Jonah winced and Bowen threw his head back and laughed.
            “Our headwoman is rarely pleased.”
            “I will certainly need to stay away from her.” Jonah turned to grab the tray again, but he gripped her hand.
            “I’ll protect you.” His tone and expression were sincere. Her stomach flipped.
            “I don’t even know you,” she whispered. Bowen tugged her to him again. Her arms went around him automatically. Would he kiss her again?
            “I would be glad to change that,” he whispered, his lips hovering over hers.
            His second kiss was tender and melted her heart as well as her body against his. It was much too short, but she stayed close to him as they parted.
            “Even a knight will be unable to protect me from Morag.” Bowen laughed.
            “I’ll admit, I avoid her like the plague.” The dimple was back. Jonah grinned.
            “Bowen?”
            “Aye?”
            “This is the best welcome I’ve received since coming to Castle Aldern.”
            “I hope there hasn’t been any of a similar nature?” Jonah bit her lip to keep from laughing as she stared up at him.
            “I’ll never tell.”
            Bowen growled and kissed her again.

A Delicious Dalliance Round Robin #3

2012-02-14T06:54:00.001-06:00

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!

So, my section of the short story round robin, the third installment is posted on my writers' group's blog, As We Were Saying.

I am pretty happy with how it turned out. Check it out!

Happy Tuesday! Hopefully it will be better than Monday!

Round Robin Day #1 By Jeff Bacot

Round Robin Day #2 By Jennifer Bennett

I is for Intuition

2012-02-13T06:48:00.002-06:00

This one is the like G was: very close to the actual timeline of Sword's Call. This one is probably a bit closer, actually. Hadrian is a secondary character, but very important to the storyline.

Hope you enjoy meeting him! He can be grumpy, but his bark is worse than his bite! Hehehe...

Hope this may help the Monday blues...it's COLD here in North Texas, AND it snowed! Ewwww....

            Hadrian cursed and snatched the parchment from his desk. He crinkled it and tossed it up in the air with one hand, and swooshed his wand the other. He said the word in his head and smiled as it burst into flames and disappeared. Not even an ash was left behind.
            Wand pointed at his inkwell, he muttered another spell word. The plug sailed up from his desktop and plopped right where it belonged, sealing off his ink.
            Composing a letter wasn’t going to help a damn thing. Who the hell was he going to send it to anyway? He’d made choices he couldn’t reverse. He put the quill down and sighed.
            A shriek grabbed his attention and Hadrian smiled at the little bird. He looked to the small nest he’d made on his desktop. The sparrow was young and smaller than most. It’d had a broken wing before the elf wizard had healed it. But he wasn’t quite ready to let the little bird go.
            “Shhh. I am sorry if I upset you, little one.” Hadrian’s small hand looked larger as he caressed the tiny bird, which leaned into the touch.
Better now, the little bird told him. Downy feathers against his fingertips, Hadrian stroked the bird again. The connection was a comfort to them both.
Animals had always been his strongest magic. They could link with him, feel his emotions. The same could be said of them, and it came in handy when they needed healing. He could speak with them. It wasn’t exactly words in his mind, but it was as clear to him as such. The intelligence level of the animal mattered not.
Much simpler than dealing with others, human or elfin kind. But his time of peace was ending. Someone was coming. Then there would be change, as strong as a summer thunder storm. But what would the aftermath be? It would take him places he had not contemplated in turns. He swallowed hard as dread threatened. The little bird screeched and flapped its wings.
Sad. Pain. Do not like.
Hadrian pulled away, breaking their physical contact with a silent apology and the sparrow calmed, fluffing the nest before settling.
He was a coward, really. Hiding near the Province of Berat for all these turns. Trying to forget but failing miserably.
The past was about to arrive, and there was naught he could do about it. The only mystery was where he would end up. Back home? Could he even hope for Aramour?
“Get it together,” he whispered to himself. The bird chirped, tilting its tiny head in question. “I’m not sure, but soon. You’ll be gone by then, my little one.”
The sparrow made a small noise of acceptance and Hadrian smiled again. They would part when they were both ready.
He’d never been known for the gift of foresight, yet who was coming was as clear to him as if he was reading the written word of a spell book.
It had started with dreams surrounded by magic. Familiar magic. His closest friend, the human empath, Braedon. Then Braedon’s son, Jorrin, half-elfin and half-human, and well grown by now. A white wolf and a redheaded lass were next…and a magic sword. Pieces of a puzzle that kept him up at night.
Hadrian grabbed his pointed black hat and shoved it onto his head, pushing his unruly white hair from his face. He had work to do. Sitting here stewing would solve nothing.
He stood from his work area and pushed the chair flush to the wooden edge of the table. The sparrow chirped and took flight, settling on his shoulder and putting a smile back on his face. At least the little one was loyal. He couldn’t say the same of himself.
            The day was unseasonably warm, the sun casting shadows through the tree canopy that edged the clearing of his small parcel of land. His cabin and small barn were set far off the road, but it mattered not. His interlopers would find him when the time came.
Winthrop, his elderly stallion, lifted his head and whinnied a greeting as he munched on hay from his trough. Hadrian’s magic tingled throughout his limbs as his eyes trailed the horse’s frame. Winthrop’s aches and pains were better this morning.
“Good, good,” Hadrian said, running his hand over the horse’s shoulder and across his back. Winthrop neighed as he continued to consume his breakfast. He liked the caress and wanted more. Hadrian complied, brushing his mount until his gray coat was shiny.
Then the elf wizard bustled about his property, completing his morning chores. The water trough was almost empty, so he waved his wand, muttering a water summoning spell. He watched as the deep well was filled again.
Satisfied, he continued on to his barn, hung up his horse’s brush and whistled to himself. Routine was good. Little thinking was involved.
The sparrow answered his tune from its position on Hadrian’s shoulder with one of its own. He reached up and gave the tiny thing a caress.
Time, it said.
“Is it time for you to go already?” he asked. But the answer was clear as the little bird rustled its wings.
He smiled and extended his hand. The sparrow hopped down his arm, stopping on his finger and cheeping. Healed. Good. Thank.
“You’re welcome.”
The bird took flight and Hadrian’s smile faded. Winthrop whinnied, but he ignored his old horse. They were coming. He needed to prepare.

H is for Home

2012-02-10T06:48:00.009-06:00

So, I was told by my friend that it was Jorrin's turn, so here he is. He's the hero of Sword's Call and this particular short is about three years before the book in the timeline.

I have to give my friend Kerry a shoutout. I was stuck like you wouldn't believe and she helped me brainstorm!

Hope you enjoy!

            Jorrin’s eyes swept the room one last time. He smiled to himself as memories flitted through his mind so real it was almost like he’d flashed back in time. No other place would ever be home. But he had to leave.
            “Jorrin?” Her lilting voice put a smile on his face.
            “I’m almost ready.” He turned to face his mother, looking down onto her upturned face. She reached for him and he took her hand.
Her smile was sad. His magic tingled. He could feel her emotions, as was the nature of his empathic magic, and his heart stuttered. She didn’t want him to go, had even begged him not to, but Jorrin had to find his father.
“I wish you wouldn’t do this.” She spoke Aramourian, the language of the elves, and Jorrin had the urge to wince. He would not feel guilty for leaving.
He didn’t answer. They’d gone over it plenty of times, and the last thing he wanted before he left was to argue with her. So Jorrin pulled her into his arms. She didn’t fight him, just wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed him almost too tight.
He smiled as he caught a whiff of the floral soap she always used. He held her for a moment. Perhaps he needed it as much as she did.
His mother tucked her head against him, barely coming to his chest even at her full height of just past four feet. Her tapered ears were much longer than his and her silken hair flaxen where his was as black as coal. Just like his father, Braedon. Or so he’d been told. He didn’t remember the human father that had left when he was an infant.
“Humans not of Aramour will not accept you,” she murmured.
“I have to leave, Mother,” Jorrin answered, deliberately not speaking his childhood language.
She lifted her head and looked up at him, her delicate brows furrowed. “Nothing will change your mind?”
“No.” Again he answered in the common human tongue.
Her sapphire eyes welled with tears and Jorrin’s heart clenched. “First I lost your father. Then I lost Hadrian. I can’t lose you, too.”
Jorrin rested his hands on her slight shoulders and held her out from his body. “Mother, you won’t lose me.” Her tears spilled over and his emotions swirled. His magic—feeling what she felt—was making this even harder.
“You can’t know what will happen. Humans not of this place will not accept you,” she repeated. Her tone was laced with sorrow. Jorrin took a deep breath.
“I’ll be fine. I’m going to find Braedon and bring him back.” His mother frowned as she always did when he referred to his father by name.
“He will come home when it is safe to do so.” Her mouth was set in a hard line and Jorrin arched a brow. The phrase was not uncommon, but he’d never heard her tone have such an edge. Almost angry.
“Mother…I…” He took another breath. “I have to do this. I can’t explain why.”
“These people…this…magic took my soul mate away and now they are taking my heart.”
Jorrin took both her hands in his and lead her to the small table in the kitchen. The place where they had shared so many meals together—the two of them, family. He slid into the seat across from her, still holding her hands.
“I will find him. I promise you that.” His mother swallowed hard at his vow. It looked wrong to see her so unsure, so upset. Her blue eyes, a match to his own, were still misty. Her pale skin flushed pink with emotion he felt as well as saw.
“I wish you did not have to leave me to do so.”
“Me too, but I will come home.”
“I still love him.” Jorrin gave a small smile. Her emotions shifted and he could feel her deep love for his father. He didn’t understand how someone could love so blindly. The man had left—abandoned them—almost twenty turns ago.
So why did he have this odd drive to find him? He barely thought about his father. As a child he’d gone from sorrow to bitterness when he’d come to realize that life was about choices, and Braedon had chosen to leave them. Reasons didn’t—or hadn’t—mattered.
His mother had never spoken ill of him, either. Jorrin’s feelings regarding Braedon were all self-imposed, self-discovered.
“I know,” he whispered. He didn’t have to tell her he didn’t share her feelings. But what did he feel for his father anyway?
She patted his hand and flashed a genuine smile. “You will know, truly know someday, love. When you find the one meant for you. Your own soul mate.” He resisted the urge to roll his eyes only because she sounded so sincere. Experience didn’t speak well of matters of the heart and soul.
“I should go.”
She nodded and caressed his cheek, then brushed his hair from his forehead. “It’s hard for me…you’re not a child anymore. Before me sits a man,” she paused. “You look like him, you know. So much like him.”
Jorrin swallowed hard. He’d heard it many times before, from friends, family, everyone in their clan. He didn’t want to hear it from her. He stood and hugged her again.
“I love you, Jorrin.”
“I love you, too.”
They separated without a word and he lifted his leather bag, slinging it over his shoulder. It had everything he’d take with him in it. Not only things he needed, but several belongings he couldn’t leave behind. He headed for the door. He couldn’t be there anymore. It was now or never. He had to go.
“Jorrin?”
            “Yes?” He glanced at her over his shoulder, his hand on the doorknob.
His mother stood in the small kitchen as she always had when he’d gotten home, a smile on her ethereal face. His heart stuttered as he felt her acceptance, her understanding of what he had to do.
            “Man or not, you’ll always be my child.”
            Jorrin smiled and gave a curt nod. Grayna, his mare, was waiting for him in the courtyard. It was time to ride.

G is for Gown

2012-02-08T09:21:00.001-06:00

This was one of the more fun ones to do. The couple in the story are featured in Sword's Call. However, I kind of wrote myself into a corner with them, considering where they're already at in the book. Sadly, I don't think I can't do their story fully. So, I thought I owed it to them to give them a letter. (perhaps more...dunno yet.)

You met Aimil, the female half of this couple in "E is for Effort." Hope you're happy to see her again!

Please enjoy! I love them alot. :)

            “May I have this dance?”
Aimil had to bite back the giggle that bubbled up. She smoothed the deep blue gown she was wearing and fought the urge to twirl before she looked into Tristan’s hazel eyes. The smile on his face took her breath away.
She beamed at him and placed her hand in his so he could lead her to the dance floor in the great hall of Castle Rowan.
The Spring Ball was in full swing. Aimil was enjoying herself, but was missing Ansley and Cera, as both were on long distance message runs. It would have been enjoyable to share the evening with them along with her betrothed, but there was no doubt she would tell them everything when they returned. Except Tristan. For now, she would keep him and how she felt about him to herself. It wasn’t quite real yet.
Many knew they were betrothed, they had been from the moment of her birth about a turn after his, and Aimil had never fought the knowledge that she would be his wife. They’d known each other as children, since their fathers had been friends for turns, but she hadn’t gotten to know Lord Tristan Dagget until he’d come to Terraquist.
What he did there was a bit of a mystery, but Aimil didn’t push him for information. He spent a great deal of time with the king, as well as Cera’s father, the Duke of Greenwald, Lord Falor Ryhan, but he had been mentored by Lord Ryhan since he was a boy, honing his magic with the other man. She got the impression whatever Tristan did for the king was confidential. He would disappear for sevendays at a time, sometimes longer.
But lately when he was home, as he referred to Terraquist, he’d begun to seek her out. Aimil had convinced herself it would be pleasant to be friends with her husband, but soon she wanted more, talking to him hadn’t been enough.
She’d started spending all the time she could with him, and looked forward to being with Tristan more than anything. She’d fallen in love with the man she would marry. She’d never expected it. Did Tristan feel the same? Her stomach flipped.
            She slipped her arms around him and they swayed to the slow love song the bards were crooning. The world melted away as she moved with him.
            “Blessed Spirit, I’ve missed you,” Tristan whispered in her ear as he pulled her closer.
He’d just returned from being gone for over a month. Aimil had kept herself busy with new training recruits and volunteering for long message runs so she wouldn’t have to worry about him, but she’d missed him. Even Isair, her wolf, had seemed to notice everything wasn’t quite right when Tristan was gone. Her bond had always liked her betrothed.
Many of the King’s Riders were bonded to animals, but none were welcome at the ball. Isair was in her room, content for the time being sleeping by a warm fire.
            Her heart stuttered at the emotion she saw when she looked up into Tristan’s hazel eyes. “I missed you, too.” He smiled, but his gaze didn’t waver. He was a bit too quiet. “Tristan, is there something wrong?”
            “No.” He squeezed her against him. She didn’t believe him but didn’t want to push him.
She glanced around the vast room, seeing knights, courtiers and variety of fellow Riders. Many couples were dancing as well. The hall was filled with laughter and bubbly conversation.
            The song ended and cheers erupted as the bards struck up a popular lively group dance tune. Aimil exchanged a glance with Tristan. He smiled and entwined his fingers with hers, pulling her away from the dancing area.
            “Can we go somewhere quiet?” Tristan asked. She nodded, her heart galloping. Somewhere quiet would mean she could kiss him. She’d been dying to kiss Tristan again from the moment she’d seen him enter the great hall with King Nathal and Lord Ryhan.
            Tristan’s gaze swept the room, and Aimil’s followed. On the dais, the king and several lords had their heads bent together in conversation. The king looked up, nodding to Tristan. What could be going on? It looked much too serious for the Spring Ball. The queen, who had not been far from King Nathal’s side all evening, was no longer in sight. Was something wrong?
Tristan tugged on her hand and she met his eyes. He’d always been stoic, but she read worry there. Her betrothed was also much too serious for the occasion. He said nothing, just kept her close to his side, slipping his arm around her shoulders as they headed out of the great hall.
Aimil wanted to take him to her room in Rider Barracks, but she couldn’t. However, she was more concerned about others being present than impropriety. She was marrying him, after all. Tristan’s room was also out of the question, because he stayed in the knights’ wing of the immense castle, and other than the occasional maid, females were scarce in those corridors. She was a lady, daughter of the Duke of Ascova, and there was too much of a chance that they would be seen. Besides, they’d never even discussed being intimate.
He never did more than kiss her senseless. But Aimil wanted to be close to him, she wanted to make love to him. She didn’t want to wait until they were married.
Tristan guided her with his hand on the small of her back. Warmth from his touch spread throughout her body and she trembled. They slipped into a small sitting room adjacent to the great hall. It was empty. She smiled and took a seat on the padded bench against the bay window that looked out into the main courtyard.
She was about to mention the stars in the night sky, but Tristan yanked her against his chest, stealing her breath and thoughts. His warm mouth settled over hers without a word.
Aimil kissed him back, pressing closer to him. She opened her mouth, rubbing her tongue against his. He groaned, kissing her harder. She wanted more, needed more.
Tristan yanked away from her and she gasped. Her chest heaved. “What’s wrong?” she breathed.
Aimil was far from done kissing him. She scooted closer, but he settled his palms on her shoulders. Once again, his warmth spread over her. Desire pooled low in her belly.
“I have to leave.”
“But you just got back…”
“I know. I’m sorry.” His words were laced with regret. He stared at her, his gaze intense.
“When will you be back?”
“I don’t know. Listen, Aimil—”
“What do you mean you don’t know?” The whisper was accompanied by tears blurring his handsome face. Tristan’s eyes widened and he pulled her back into his arms. Aimil tucked her head under his chin and clung to him. He rubbed her back, his touch soothing and calming.
“You’d better not be using magic on me,” she warned, lifting her head and meeting his eyes.
Tristan chuckled. “I would never, love.” Aimil froze.
“Love?” she croaked. His smile was tender and genuine.
“Surely you know that by now.” His tone was teasing, but Aimil swallowed hard. Her heart thundered.
“Know what?”
“It’s going to kill me to leave you again.” Her face must have fallen, because Tristan squeezed her against him and flashed a smile. “I won’t tease you further. I love you, Aimil.”
She threw her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his. The kiss became heated, desperate.
“Aimil,” Tristan groaned. “We need to stop.” He pulled away gently and cupped her face. She didn’t contradict him. Aimil wanted him, but they were essentially in public, anyone else could come into the sitting room at any time. So she nodded and cuddled close to him, content for the moment with his arms around her.
“When do you leave?” she whispered.
“In the morning.”
“And you have no idea how long this time?” Her tone was choked.
“No, love. But I will come back to you, I promise.” She stared into his eyes, seeing sincerity and love. Aimil sighed against him, resting her head on his chest.
“Tristan?” she whispered.
“Hmmm?”
“I love you, too. And I’ll be here when you get back.” Tristan grinned and squeezed her against him.

Round Robin: A Delicious Dalliance.

2012-02-07T08:52:00.004-06:00

Sooooo....I am interrupting the Alphabet Games for an announcment.

One of my writers' groups is doing a Round Robin Short where we're going to write a short story as a group. We're each doing two pages, and when we're done, there will be about 10,000 words.

The first section, by creator of the idea, Jeff Bacot, is up on our groups' blog!

It's Awesome! I can't wait until my turn!

Check it out!

As We Were Saying Blog

F is for Forsaken

2012-02-06T06:54:00.002-06:00

The twins in this story are secondary characters in Sword's Call but I love them. From the start they spoke to me, so I decided to share a bit of their background...not necessarily a good one. But worry not, things DO get better for them. The one takes place about 10ish years before the book.

Thanks for the comments, keep them coming! Hopefully I can help you make your Monday better!

            “Get out of here, half-breed trash!” The bucket swayed as the rotund innkeeper tossed its contents at them.
            Dirty water soaked their ankles, but Rory rushed toward the rubbish, grabbing several pieces of lettuce and a tomato that probably wouldn’t make them sick.
Edana sobbed, her red hair matted, one pointed ear sticking out between tangled locks, the other hidden behind more dishevelment. It would be a much brighter color if it was clean, but the twins hadn’t been able to wash in some time.
            He grabbed his sister’s hand without a word and tugged her down the alley, keeping his eyes averted from the innkeeper as well as the other homeless people, adults and children scattered around the place. The alley was thick with the odor of human waste and other rotting things despite the chill in the air. The cold breeze did nothing but spread it around, a warning for others to avoid the area.
            The mean older man didn’t mind the rest of the scavengers. They were human, or wholly human, as it were. He and his sister were not.
            Rory dragged Edana after him, but his tiny sister’s sobs didn’t quiet. He needed to get them back to safety before the gang of boys saw them. They’d been chasing them for days, and the twins had only left the safety of their dug out hollow behind an abandoned shop because they hadn’t eaten anything since they’d been in hiding. Others were squatting in the shop itself. Their mixed blood did not invite them to share what little warmth was there. He would have gone out himself but he never left Edana alone.
            “Shhh. When we get back we can eat.” Big emerald eyes met his gaze, still watery. She sniffled and wiped a dirty hand across her face, making a black smudge on her cheek. At least it was only dirt. There’d been bruises that color on her many times. Rory winced.
They rounded the corner with quick steps, headed into the opposite alley. It was empty.
            “Psssst.” Rory froze, his gaze settling on a girl that looked a few turns older than him and his sister. He met her eyes. She smiled and motioned for them to come to her. Rory shook his head, remaining where he was. He wasn’t falling for that trick. “Come here, elf.” He and his twin were only half-elfin, but he didn’t correct her. She motioned again and stepped toward them. Rory shoved Edana behind him and put his palm up.
He had magic, but he’d never used it in public, let alone to hurt someone. The girl cocked her head to the side, staring at him with wide brown eyes. She was well dressed, her tan smock clean, her appearance groomed. What could she possibly want with them?
“I won’t hurt you,” she whispered, coming even close. Edana wrapped her arms around his waist and peered under his arm at the girl. She’d stopped crying. The girl smiled at his sister. Rory lowered his arm, but grabbed Edana in case they had to bolt.
“Really, I won’t hurt you. I wanted to give this to you and your sister.” She held a bundle out to him but Rory didn’t take it. She shoved it at him and he shook his head. “Go on, my da doesn’t know I have it. The biggest blanket I could find. The pouch wrapped inside has some dried meat and the biggest hunk of bread I could sneak. You need it.”
Rory stared at the blanket, wrapped up like a parcel. It did look warm. It was much better than the scrap of cloth they had now. He always let Edana have it on cold nights, anyway. “I couldn’t get you any water this time, but I will try next time. I’ll have to sneak a skin for it,” the girl continued. He wanted to ask what she meant by next time but he couldn’t find his voice. She was trying to help them. It was unheard of.
“I’m Gemma, by the way. My da is the dolt that got you all wet.” Her dark brows drew together. “I’m sorry about that.” She brushed Rory’s hand with the edge of the blanket as she took another step toward them. “Please take it. You need it. Do you have a warm place to sleep?”
Rory shrugged.
“Well, wrap up in this, then,” she whispered. Her eyes looked so sincere. She really was trying to help them. One hand still in a firm grip on his sister and the other tentatively reaching out, Rory snatched the bundle as soon as his fingers made purchase and tucked it under his arm.
He turned away, taking Edana with him.
“Wait.” Rory paused but didn’t turn back toward Gemma. “It’s all right if you can’t thank me.” He looked down, heat creeping up his neck into his cheeks. He used to have manners. “Come back here every sevenday. I’ll help you when I can.” He looked over his shoulder.
Gemma smiled and it was so genuine Rory offered a half-smile back.
“Do you have magic?” Gemma whispered. He exchanged a glance with his twin before nodding at the older girl.
“I hope it helps you keep warm at night.” He stared. What should he make of this girl? She was the first human to treat him and his sister as anything more than scum. Rory swallowed hard and gave a curt nod. Gemma grinned and his heart skipped a beat.
“That makes me feel better.” He looked away from her, his cheeks hot and his gaze catching Edana’s. His twin was smiling, too. When was the last time she did anything but sob? His vision blurred. He blinked and swiped at his face. Good thing he wasn’t looking at Gemma. Boys weren’t supposed to cry, even half-elfin scamps.
“Gemma? Where did you get off to?” The shout made Rory wince. Edana jumped closer to him, clinging to his hand again.
“That would be my da. I’ll see you next sevenday. Stay safe.” With that, Gemma slipped around the corner. Rory stared after her.
“I like her,” Edana announced. When he looked at his sister, she was wearing that rare smile again. His stomach flipped.
“I…I like her, too.” His twin nodded and squeezed his hand. Rory smiled.

E is for Effort

2012-02-03T07:01:00.019-06:00

Happy Friday!!!!!!!!!!!!

This short is still before Sword's Call in my timeline (about three years) but I have jumped characters, and I had alot of fun doing so.

The star of this short is the heroine of the 2nd book in the series, called Love's Call. I love her. :)

After you read this, can you guess who the hero of the book is? ;)

Enjoy! Your comments and interest are awesome, please don't stop them. Check back on Monday for F.

The ground was harder than it looked. Ansley winced and scrambled to her feet, resisting the urge to rub her sore rump—just barely. She glared at her giggling friends. She retrieved her standard issue King’s Rider bow and wiped off the mud on the grip.
            “That wasn’t so bad, Ans.”
            “Not bad at all.”
            Three wolves sat or lay not far away, one pure white, the other a mottled reddish gray and the last a little black wolf cub. She whimpered but Ansley thought-sent to her a quick mental command to stay put. The last thing she needed was her young bond underfoot. They would both end up muddy and she’d have to give Ali a bath.
            “Oh hush, and that goes for all three of you.” She made eye contact with Ali and received a wag of her tail as Cera giggled while Aimil covered her mouth to hide hers.
            “Do you want to try again?” Cera asked as Ansley made her way to them.
            “Let’s see. I am the only one I know who can land on her arse in the mud when trying to shoot an arrow. Oh, yes, let’s try again.”
            “Ansley…you did…fine.” Cera answered, her laugh barely disguised amongst her words.
            Ansley made a sound of disgust and Ali whined. Again she told her to stay where she was. When she looked at her friends, taking in their hunter green Rider cloaks, she smiled. They were all Senior Riders now, and it was a good feeling. Though her cloak was probably covered in mud.
            “How did I even pass my Rider Tests?” she mused, her eyes sweeping the archery field.
            “Because you were meant to be a Senior Rider. We all have different skills to our credit, Ansley.” Cera’s gray eyes were wide and sincere to illustrate her statement and Aimil was nodding, her long dark plait swaying with the movement.
            Cera knocked an arrow, raised her bow, pulled the bowstring taut and released it without effort. It sailed right into the center of the target, no doubt exactly where she’d aimed. Ansley lost her nerve. The bow and arrow was definitely not her weapon of choice.
            “Blessed Spirit, I love this bow,” her friend whispered, caressing her weapon. The smile she flashed faded when she met Ansley’s gaze.
            “I’m sorry, Cera. I’m not trying to take any joy from you. I know this is just about your favorite thing.” Ansley cringed. Perhaps it had been a bad idea to ask for help with archery from the two best archers among the Senior Riders, best friends or not.
            “You’re better at sword fighting than I am,” Aimil put in, nodding in earnest.
Ansley gave a small smile. That had a lot to do with size. She had a good ten inches on her tiny friend, who stood at about five feet tall, and her father was the captain of the king’s personal guard. She’d practically been born with a sword in her hand, but she wasn’t about to point that out.
The sound of pounding hooves caught their attention. Collectively, they glanced down the road that eventually lead to open fighting yard where the Riders trained with swords, spears and hand to hand combat.
“Knights,” Cera said as the small group neared, the sun glinting off their armor.
“What are knights doing on our grounds?” Ansley asked. Her friends shrugged as she called Ali to her side. The cub was only about four months old and still leery around horses.
She didn’t pick her up, but Ali settled at her side, close enough to touch. Cera smiled at the young wolf.
The group slowed and Ansley recognized the lead horse right away, because the mare was buckskin in color. Heat crept up her neck, settling in her cheeks. Sir Leargan Tegran was leading the small group of knights. She wanted to scoot behind Cera but didn’t have enough time.
“Afternoon, my ladies,” Sir Tegran said as the six knights came to a stop by the fence that bordered the archery grounds. He gave a polite nod, sticking his helm on the pommel of his saddle. A few of the other men also removed their headgear and nodded or murmured greetings.
“Afternoon, sirs.” Aimil said, giving a slight bow. Cera echoed the sentiment while Ansley ordered herself not to stare at the dark haired lead knight. His handsome chiseled face was clean shaven as always, and shoulder length black hair pulled back by a leather strap. His dark eyes focused on her friend.
“Where does the afternoon lead you?” Cera was asking as Ansley concentrated on becoming invisible. What would have happened if the knights had come by when she was on her rear end in the mud? She would have died if Sir Tegran had seen that. She swallowed hard.
            She forced her eyes away from him, sweeping her gaze over the other knights. All rather young, Ansley recognized each one, though she only knew Dallon by name. He sat behind Sir Tegran and to the right, next to a large blonde knight that reminded her of the king. He was huge, even sitting on his bay stallion.
            Dallon caught her eye and winked. Ansley flashed him a smile. He was a bit of a ladies’ man, but with his light brown hair, brown eyes and handsome face, it really wasn’t a surprise.
            “Captain Moray invited us to spar with some Senior Riders,” Sir Tegran was telling Cera. Ansley’s cheeks were hot. He hadn’t even looked at her, but that didn’t matter. He was so handsome. Her heart skipped a beat.
            “You should come watch,” another dark haired knight with a twinkle in his blue eyes suggested. He waggled an eyebrow and Aimil giggled. Cera smiled and crossed her arms over her chest.
            “I am sure they have better things to do than watch you get knocked over, Alasdair,” Dallon answered. Ansley bit her lip to keep from giggling and Sir Tegran coughed, but it sounded more like a laugh.
            The banter went on, the knights quipping at each other.
            “Good day, my ladies,” Sir Tegran said, bowing from his saddle. Ansley averted her eyes as he flashed a smile at all three of them and his eyes swept over her face. Her cheeks blazed and her stomach flipped. Ali nudged her leg with a whimper and she swept her bond up into her arms, using the opportunity to bury her face in the cub’s ebony fur.
            Cera and Aimil muttered goodbyes and the knights soon disappeared down the road to the fighting yard.
            Ansley peaked over Ali’s head when they were gone. Her friends exchanged a glance she didn’t miss.
            “Why is your face so red?” Cera asked. Ansley bit back a groan.
            “What are you talking about?” she returned. She bent to put Ali back on her paws and retrieved the bow she’d been using. “Are we going to shoot some arrows or what?” Her words were rushed and her face still burned.
            Cera and Aimil looked at each other again but said nothing. Then Cera nodded and raised her bow.
            “Sure. Come on, what are you waiting for?”
            Ansley sighed and gave a curt nod. She ignored the fact that Cera’s smile looked much too knowing.

D is for Dragon

2012-02-01T09:43:00.005-06:00

So this one is the total opposite in the timeline of the last one. This one is the furthest in the future so far. It would fit in about 4 years after Sword's Call. (Actually this is the only one that I have gone forward instead of back...no reason, just how it came out of my head)

If you read the excerpt for Dragon's Call on my Pieces of Me page, you will recognize the dragon in the short, this is the same one. So, also if you read that, you know what ultimately happens, but I hope you will enjoy it. (In the timeline, Dragon's Call is about 5 years after Sword's Call)

This one is my favorite letter so far (including the ones that are written but not posted yet).

Please enjoy! Comments encouraged!

            The great ebony wings extended as the dragon rose higher, his already shiny hide glinting in the sun. Caith watched him until she could not see the tiny rider on his back, his elfin bondmate. He rose higher and higher, becoming a speck before disappearing.
Her sharp eyes fell from the empty sky as a chilly breeze settled over her where she lay on the open mouthed cave’s ledge. The mountains of Aramour stretched out before her, the scene with its snow capped peaks beautiful, although it was a normal sight for her birthplace.
The serenity of her surroundings belied her mood.
She’d had the dream again. Her bondmate, her lifelong companion, her completion, screaming in agony. Caith couldn’t get to her. It wasn’t just a dream. It was a vision. And if the girl died, Caith’s life would be miserable. And short.
            She shifted, her wings rustling as a shudder traveled down her spine. She was young for a dragon, not having reached her twentieth turn, but she was already becoming consumed with the loneliness that only a bond with her fated being could fill. The dreams were fuel to the fire that was breaking her heart.
            Unbonded dragons weren’t supposed to feel to the extent Caith did. That just added to her curse. The foolish one. The damaged one. The disobedient one. The one who’d ignored the orders of her dam and gotten herself captured and almost killed. She would have been harvested, ripped apart for her magic by a rogue human mage and sold off for her desired properties. She was left un-whole. Scarred.
            “Caith, my heart, you’re glowering.” The tone was a mix of amusement and worry.
            She didn’t turn toward the voice of the elf wizard. She didn’t want him to see her eyes. Dragons’ multifaceted eyes whirled naturally and changed color and speed of movement with their emotions. And glowering put it mildly.
            I am not, she ventured. Ennis would know her words were false.
            Though they were not bonded, as he was not her destined bondmate, they were almost as close as bondmates could be. He would feel the emotions behind her empty phrase; he always had.
Dragons could speak mentally to whomever they wished, even if the receiver was a human with no magic. Elves, however, were born with magic and most could hear dragons as clearly as any other being speaking aloud. Ennis was no different.
Not only that, but the elf wizard was full of magic. He’d rescued her from the human mage all those turns ago and been with her since. Her dam had rejected her going back into the nest, a combination of disobedience and physical damage. The elf wizard had kept her with him, adopting a cave in the mountains that had accommodated her growth and raised her. She was a child to him. Most of the time that was a comfort to Caith.
            Her gaze remained on the mountains as he hobbled over to her on his uneven legs, leaning heavily on his ornate cane.
            “Ah, lass,” Ennis muttered. Caith straightened her foreleg so he could release the burden of his weight from his shaky legs, but she still didn’t turn her great head as he sat.
            She wasn’t as large as the enormous black dragon she’d been watching, but Strath was their clan leader, and her sire. Caith was still growing, but would most likely never reach her sire’s sixty feet in length. She was perhaps half of that now.
            The elf wizard leaned his slight weight into her body, but his warmth didn’t comfort as it usually did. She said nothing as he patted the flesh above her damaged talon. If she’d been capable of flinching, she would have.
            “Are you unhappy with me?” The pain in his tone shouldn’t have affected her, but it did.
            No. Her answer was forceful, and she finally looked at him.
            “I realize we’re not destined—”
            I have wished many times that we were. Caith rushed her words. She needed him to feel her sincerity.
            The elf wizard’s green eyes were soft with concern, as was his expression but he was gripping the top of his cane so tightly his frail knuckles were white. His tapered ears were long and elegant despite peeking out from wind-disheveled long gray hair. He wore no hat and his navy tunic hung from shoulders that didn’t fill it out anymore. Only about four and a half feet tall, Ennis had always been on the slender side but he had only lost weight with age.
Once again, emotions she wasn’t supposed to be capable of settled over her. She couldn’t lose Ennis. She wouldn’t survive that, with or without her bond.
            I shall not leave you.
            The elf wizard’s chuckle was low, and his smile sad. “You will have to. It’s time to seek your bondmate. Your dreams have started. You cannot hide them from me, my heart.”
            It was no surprise Ennis had discovered that she’d been having dreams—visions—of her destined bond. She’d said nothing to him, but the elf wizard’s magic was powerful despite his age.
            Perhaps she is here.
            “Ah, lass. You and I both know she’s human.”
            Not of Aramour? But Caith didn’t need an answer. If her bond had been in Aramour, human or elfin, they would have been pulled together by the instinctual loneliness Caith was already suffering from. Her bondmate had to be far away. If she was human, she probably didn’t even feel the pull, the longing for Caith at all. The girl didn’t even know she was incomplete.
            Ennis sighed and leaned into her even further. “Not yet. Don’t go yet. But you will have to leave me soon enough.”
            The elf wizard’s anguish sank into her. Caith lowered her head over him. She wanted to cradle him close to her chest as if she could protect him from his own emotions, but she didn’t.
            I will come back to you always. Even if I find her, I will come back to you.
            Ennis looked up at her. The corner of his mouth lifted and he patted her foreleg next to where he sat. “That is not where I see your journey taking you.”
            Caith didn’t deny it. She couldn’t, because she agreed with him.
When they parted, it would be forever.
Her need to stay with Ennis was almost as strong as her driving push to find her bondmate.
            The elf wizard turned away, staring out at the familiar snow covered mountains. Seconds later, Caith followed his gaze. They didn’t speak. But she didn’t need to tell him she wouldn’t leave him…yet.

C is for Cunning

2012-01-30T06:45:00.002-06:00

So this one is the farthest in the past to date, as far as my time line is concerned. (About 21 years before Sword's Call) This character is a strong secondary in my book. He is the father of my hero, Jorrin, and he's very close to my heart.

Hope you enjoy! (I am really liking the comments guys, makes me feel great)

             Braedon ducked as the arrow whizzed past his head. That one was too close. He plastered himself to Roan, urging his stallion faster. The horse’s muscles rippled along his spine as his powerful legs kicked up even more dirt and he fell into an all out run. At least they hadn’t thrown a spell at him.
            How the hell had they caught up so fast? He’d lost them for almost three sevendays this time. Braedon muttered his most reliable masking spell. Hopefully it would take effect at top speed. He’d never tried it before.
            Roan dove into the woods, leaving the paved road. Braedon’s thighs clenched as he tried to adjust to the bumpier terrain. He gave the stallion some head to lead them where he would. Roan would be more sure of his footing that way, and he had never steered them wrong in the past.
            “Where did the bastard go?” The shout made him freeze for a moment, and Braedon muttered the words to his spell again. His concentration was complete this time, so there was no doubt that it would work. They would now be virtually invisible.
            Even if they had a mage among them, usually the mercenaries that were sent after him weren’t the brightest apples in the barrel. Overgrown meat was much more likely. Usually to Braedon’s advantage.
            He slowed Roan to a walk, patting his beloved horse on the neck. The stallion was sweaty, a condition Braedon was sharing. He would love to run into a descent body of water for a bath. They could both use a long drink as well.
Finding an inn tonight would be out of the question. Braedon sighed. They ducked between two trees and remained still; the only noise was their breathing. He cocked his head to the side to listen, sending a prayer to the Blessed Spirit that his spell would hold.
            He missed Vanora. And Jorrin. It would be beneficial to forget them, or at least forget how much time had elapsed since he’d been forced to leave them. But no, his mind clung to them, and their memories. His infant son in his arms, that sweet, clean baby scent in his nose as he held the child close to his chest. His beautiful elfin lifemate, her sapphire eyes looking up at him, filled with love he saw as well as absorbed with his empathic magic. How she felt in his arms, how her flaxen hair felt against his fingertips, her long, elegant tapered ears. Her full lips against his as they kissed. Her body beneath his as they moved together.
            “Stop. You’re just pathetic,” he whispered to himself. Roan’s ears twitched and Braedon smirked. The horse would probably agree if he could get into his head.
            How long had it been anyway? Two turns, four months, three sevendays, and oh, five days. Did he know the hours? Would he admit it even to himself? Braedon shook his head, then froze. They were coming.
            Small branches snapping, the shifting of leaves and underbrush. All of that noise was too much disturbance to be an animal. At least not one that knew anything about being in the woods.
             Voices, muttering, cursing, and then shouting as they coordinated.
            “Where is the bastard?”
            “We should have brought Conroy.”
            “That damn mage is a fraud.”
            There was some more disagreement before an annoyed growl cut them off.
            “Shut it, you two, before I shut it for you. Just find the arse before I make you explain things to the boss.” The voice was heavily accented. The man was from the far north, like Braedon himself.
            He leaned down, closer to Roan. The horse’s thick mane tickled his chin. Braedon couldn’t see them yet, but the heavy hooves of their horses told him there were more in the party than the three voices he heard. His stallion’s ears twitched again and his nostrils flared. Roan smelled them coming closer. He shifted where he stood.
            “Shhh lad, we’re invisible.” Braedon patted the horse’s neck and held steady, praying his words were true.
            The stench of the mercenaries hit his nose before he saw them. Braedon made a face and took a breath he held for a moment. He amended his worry about his own body odor. There was no way he smelled as badly as the bastards chasing him.
            Bickering voices matched the ugly rough hewn faces as two of the men passed him. He swallowed hard, one hand on Roan’s reins and the other on the hilt of his sword. Both hands showed the white of his knuckles.
He had a spell on the tip of his tongue that would expel the bastards away from him and give them a head start if his masking spell failed.
            His breath exited on a whoosh and he flexed his shoulders as two more rode past them with no reaction. They could not see him or his stallion. He made a fist and stopped himself from pumping it in the air in victory. He wasn’t all that proud that he’d finally succeeded in an idiot proof masking spell. The real test would come if and when he ran into other magic. Braedon would really have only succeeded if the spell was magic proof, too.
            He waited quite a while in the woods, between those same two trees. The men were probably long gone, but he’d not wanted to tempt fate.
            What was fate anyway? Was this his fate? Always Running. Away from his family? The woman he’d never considered he even deserved and the child that hadn’t been but a few months old when he’d fled? Vanora didn’t deserve this. He’d left her to raise their child on her own. His son didn’t deserve to grow up without his father.
            Roan’s neigh brought him from his pained thoughts, and Braedon patted his neck. “Thank you, my friend. I needed a distraction.”
He pressed his knees to the stallion’s sides, and Roan bolted forward. Soon they were out of the woods and back on the paved road, but Braedon didn’t stop looking over his shoulder for a few hours. And he said his masking spell again...just in case.

B is for Book

2012-01-25T20:20:00.002-06:00

This one is about Avery, who is a secondary character in Sword's Call. Once again, I'm writing about when one of my characters is a child (or close to it Cera is 15 in "A is for Ash"). No reason for that,except that it's so darn fun. Avery is about ten here, so it would place this short about 7 years before the book.

(I don't want to steer anyone wrong. Cera is an adult in Sword's Call and it's not a YA book. It's just how both the shorts so far came out of my head. Not all of them are this way, promise. As a reminder, there is a blurb for Sword's Call two posts below this one)

             Avery didn’t have a brave bone in his body. He was forever getting beaten up by the other children, unless his cousin Cera was visiting from Greenwald. And Cera was a girl. How pathetic was it that a girl had to save him all the time? Even though she was older than him.
            The other boys didn’t even care that Avery’s father was the Duke of Tarvis. But as soon as he trained his magic up, he was going to show them all.
            “Avery, concentrate.” He winced as his knuckles smarted from the rap they received along with his mother’s admonition. He met her gray eyes and one corner of her mouth lifted.
            “Sorry, Mother.” Her nod of acknowledgment was only a slight tilt of her head, but he took a deep breath and flashed a half-smile.
            “Say the spell again. This time slower. Annunciate, love.”
            He followed her instructions, concentrating so hard his brow wrinkled as the words exited his mouth, but the small book didn’t start to lift from the table and float in the air until his mother entwined her fingers with his and started to chant the spell, too.
            “Oh…I want to do it by myself!” The book crashed to the table top and several pieces of parchment scattered. One floated to the floor.
            “Avery.” His mother’s voice was calm. “That will come. You need to concentrate completely. Shouting will get you nowhere, my son.”
            “But Ma…you don’t need my help to lift the book, light the fire, get a vision…anything.” He pulled his hand out of hers and crossed his small arms over his chest. His mother laughed and he scowled.
            “Love, I have been at this much longer than you. Since I was your age, actually.”
            “But…”
            “You have to start somewhere. Magic doesn’t just appear. You have to train your gifts.”
            “I want to.”
            “You have to work harder than this.” Her smile was kind but Avery sighed. “You’re frustrated. Perhaps we should stop for today.”
            “No.” His mother smiled again. He never had been able to ruffle her. She had tons of patience.
            “Then relax, and we shall try again.”
            Avery nodded and took a deep breath. He placed his smaller hand in his mother’s as she reached for him, and together they began to chant the spell words.
            He grinned as the book rose, but it wavered and his mother squeezed his hand in warning. He reordered his focus.
            Sweat broke out on his forehead as he formed the picture of the book rising higher in his mind. It wiggled in the air as his mother pulled her hand free of his but Avery willed it to remain there, hovering about a foot above the table in his school room.
            The book held steady. Until he tried to open it with his mind.
            “Ohhhh…” he complained as it crashed to the hard surface again.
            “What happened?”
            “I tried to open it.” His mother’s chuckle turned his frown into a small smile.
            “Too much too soon, my love.” She patted his forearm, then brushed an errant curl from his forehead. “But you did a fantastic job.”
            “I did?”
            “You lifted the book higher all on your own and held it steady. That is progress.”
            “When can I light a fire?” His mother laughed again, reaching for the book they’d been working with.
            “When I’m confident you won’t burn the castle down.” Avery made a face but accepted the book when she handed it to him.
            “What now?” he asked, catching her gaze.
            “Now you read that book.”
            “What?”
            “It’s a spell book, sweeting. Memorize some of the more basic ones and we’ll try again tomorrow.”
            “Tomorrow?”
            “We’ve been working for several hours, love. You might not realize it now, but magic can exhaust you. You need to rest.” She pushed her chair back from the table as elegantly as a duchess should and ruffled his curls, but that didn’t cheer him up.
            Avery loved to read, but he wanted to try more magic. He looked down at the small book with its golden decorative scrollwork border on the cover. There was no title, nor was there one on the spine. He frowned.
            His head reared up when he opened the book. The elegant handwriting was feminine and very neat. He had no trouble recognizing it, although it was a bit different than how she wrote now. It was his mother’s handwriting.
            “Mother?” He met her gaze. Somehow her smile made her look much younger.
            “Please take care of that book, love.”
            “Is it yours?”
            “It was.”
            Her meaning was clear. The little book was now his. He caressed the cover before opening it again, his fingers dancing over the spell inked on the first page. Suddenly, he wanted to memorize all the spells in the book. He flashed his mother a grin.
            “I will care for the book.”
            “Good.”
            “Thank you, Mother.” The slight tilt of her head was all the answer she gave, and then she was gone, but Avery didn’t miss the mistiness of her gray eyes.
            The little book meant alot to his mother, and it would mean the same to him. He read the first spell twice.
            That night, when his father tucked him into bed, a part of their nighttime ritual, he cradled the small book to his chest when the duke suggested placing it on the table next to his bed. Avery wouldn’t let the book out of his sight. His father just smiled and ruffled his hair.
            He put the book on his pillow when he was alone, staring at it before giving into a yawn and closing his eyes.
That night, he dreamt of lighting a fire…under the rear ends of the boys who always beat him up.

A is for Ash

2012-01-23T09:04:00.003-06:00

So....if you're like "huh?" when you read this, check out the post below called "Alphabet Game..." And I forgot to mention, these are NOT excerpts from my book(s). These are all original little ditties. I figured it may help me show things I wasn't able to in the books, or intro subplot characters!

This short takes place about 6 years (turns in my world) before Sword's Call. Cera is the heroine of my first book, and she is very very close to my heart. Please enjoy! Comments are encouraged!

            Cera stared. She just couldn’t tear her eyes away as her father’s best horse trainer worked the feisty young stallion. Her stallion.
            The young white wolf at her side whined, but her eyes remained locked onto the horse. The day she’d witnessed his birth just over a turn ago, she’d named him Ash. His shiny coat was as black as night, but before he’d been properly cleansed his coloring had been marred, making him appear the exact hue of cooling embers.
            Her bond, Trikser, by her side also about a turn now, pawed her breech-clad leg. Cera sighed.
            “What is it? I’m not ignoring you. Honestly.” His amber gaze held innocence as their eyes locked and she couldn’t help the smile that formed. She buried her hand in the soft fur between his ears, giving him a scratch. He groaned. “You’re getting so big, Trik,” she mused as he scooted closer to her. Soon he was against her leg, leaning hard and Cera laughed. “Okay, okay.”
            She widened her stance so he wouldn’t knock her over. Trik was jealous of Ash. What would her bond think when she was astride the magnificent animal? Cera couldn’t wait for that moment.
            “Cera? What are you doing down here? You should be studying.” The censure in her father’s tone caused heat to creep up her neck.
            Lord Falor Ryhan’s wide stride brought him to her side in seconds. She fidgeted, but didn’t look away as the duke gave her a once over, his hazel eyes dancing. Her breath exited on a whoosh. Her father wasn’t actually angry with her for sneaking off.
           “I just wanted to see him, Father. I couldn’t wait.”
            He smiled and threw his arm around her shoulders. Trikser yipped as they were separated and Cera leaned into her tall father, smiling back at him.
            Oh hush, you. She thought-sent to her bond, and he reseated himself on her other side.
            “I’m sure your mother didn’t see you before you left. She wouldn’t let you out of the castle in breeches.” There was amusement in his tone at the age old argument, but Cera still blushed.
            “But I did complete my studies before I left, Father.”
            “Glad to hear it, but that will not protect you from your mother’s wrath. You’d better go back in through the servants’ entrance.” Her father squeezed her against his side and flashed her a conspiratorial grin that took turns off his handsome bearded face. Cera giggled.
            Ash’s whinny snapped her attention back to her mount. He was challenging the trainer, hoofing the dirt in the training circle. Cera leaned into the fence, staring. He was going to charge. More like a bull than a horse.
            “Malcolm, watch yourself, lad.” The duke’s order was a boom that had Cera clutching the fence with white knuckles.
            Malcolm didn’t budge, holding his ground well. Ash’s nostrils flared. His powerful chest heaved, his muscles catching the sun is they rippled down his legs and across his back.
            “He’s the finest stallion my stables have ever birthed,” her father whispered, awe in his tone.
            “Thank you for giving him to me.”
            Trikser growled low in his throat. Ash’s head swung around, his dark gaze locking with the wolf’s amber one. Cera stiffened.
            “Whoa, Ash.” Malcolm’s tone was calm as Cera’s gaze settled on him. But just as he made a go for the stallion’s bridle, Ash jerked away.
            “Trikser,” she admonished, but the horse was already galloping across the training circle.
            “Cera, move back,” her father ordered. He reached for her, but she scooted toward her bond, moving him back before it was too late.
            The stallion was powerful enough to jump the fence. He could trample her wolf.
            A strong hand landed on her arm and she was yanked back as her father shielded her with his body. “Cera, go. Now.”
            Trikser, stop. Stay right there. Cera thought-sent, ignoring her father’s command. She slid around him with a glance at her wolf. He was glowering, but obedient, sitting not far from the training circle.
            She climbed a few rungs up the fence and leaned over, arm extended and palm up. “Ash, come to me.” Her rapid heartbeat belied her calm tone.
            The stallion halted, his chest muscles rippling as dirt settled and his ears twitched. He wasn’t close enough to touch, yet, but he looked at her.
            “Ash, my beautiful boy, come to me.”
            Her smile bloomed as he took one step, then two. Her fingers connected with the softness of his nose, pushing the small touch into a full caress as he came against the fence.
Ash snorted as her father stepped next to her, rearing his head up.
            “Shhh, boy. It’s fine. I’m here,” Cera soothed, running her hand up his wide forehead.
            She made eye contact with her father.
            “Father, I…” His brows were drawn tight, his mouth a hard line.
Ash nudged her hand for another caress. “He likes you.” She grinned at her father’s amazed tone. His face relaxed and his chest heaved with a sigh.
            “I’m sorry, my lord. He’s willful, this one,” Malcolm called.
            “It’s all right, but you should stay where you are. She’s got him calm.”
            “You’re for me, Ash. All for me,” Cera murmured, resting her forehead against the stallion’s much wider one.
            Her father’s chuckle made her glance at him. When their gazes met, he shook his head.
            “You never cease to amaze me, lass.”
            “Is that a bad thing, Father?”
            “Sometimes.”
            “This time?”
            “No, lass. Not this time.” Cera flashed an impish grin and her father laughed again.
            She caressed her horse, looking into his brown eyes for a moment. He nickered and she offered him a carrot she’d stowed in her pocket. As he munched, she motioned for Trikser to come to her side. Her bond wasted no time, plastering himself to her leg.
            One hand on her horse, the other on her wolf, Cera smiled.

The Alphabet Game (Writer Alphabet Soup?)

2012-01-23T08:17:00.001-06:00

Okay, so this so sooooo not original. I am going to do something I stole from an author I love, L.J. McDonald and I think she found it somewhere else on the web. Anyways, it should be fun. (the link will take you to her blog and you can check our HER Alphabet Game...her books are AWESOME, btw.)

I know I'm not published yet, but I have all these things in my head about my characters and my world, and I thought I could share them with you.

I will also post the blurb for the first book in my series, Sword's Call so those of you who know NOTHING about it won't be lost. ;) but, I will have a little description before each short, as well. And as you know, there is an excerpt of my 3rd book, Dragon's Call on my "Pieces of Me" page here. (aka THE HOTMESS at the moment. ;) )

I am excited. I have the first one done (entitled "A is for Ash"), and it really got my juices flowing. I have been a bit stifled lately as far as writing is concerned.

I will post it shortly. I am contemplating "B" right now. :)

Blurb for Sword's Call:

For generations, the Ryhans, ruling family of the Province of Greenwald have been keepers of a sword that is rumored to possess enough magic to defeat kings. Lord Varthan, a former archduke and betrayer of the king, covets the sword and invades Greenwald.

Lady Ceralda Ryhan, daughter of the murdered duke, gains the sword and flees, trusting only her white wolf, Trikser—magically bonded to her—and needs nothing more to aid in her fight.

Jorrin Aldern, half elfin and half human, left his home in the mountains of Aramour to find his human father who disappeared twenty turns before, but finds Cera with Varthan and his shades on her tail instead. His dual heritage and empathic magic will tempt Cera in ways she never thought she’d desire. Convincing Cera to trust him and show her love is better than redemption will put more than just their hearts on the line.

Hope you enjoy the teaser of Sword's Call and my little shorts to come!

Dependence On Technology

2012-01-20T08:28:00.000-06:00

So, I suppose I, like many other people, are much too dependant on technology. Why do I say this?

Well, unfortuntaely I had a death in the family, of the internet router variety. And I learned something about myself: I AM ADDICTED to the internet! And, it was a case of "You don't know how much you need it, until it's gone."

Also, at the same time, my DVR died. (The Cable TV gods HATE me)

*sigh* It's been a few rough days.

I called my service provider AFTER having followed the *helpful* information on the blue screen of death I got on my TV as the *helpful* information suggested.

What did the Customer Service rep do? DISREGARD everything I told her regarding said *helpful* information on the blue screen of death, therefore extending our PAINFUL conversation almost an hour.

The CONCLUSION?

"I'm sorry Ms. Szarek (heavily accented) but it appears you need a new DVR and a new modem."

SERIOUSLY?

I thought there was supposed to be some SERVICE in Customer Service.

*sigh*

Well, I could only thank her and move on with life.

Hopefully my new equipment will arrive soon (they are mailing it) and I will get it all hooked up before the DTs hit me.

On the upside, I have PLENTY of time to write! NO distractions. (yeah, yeah)

Happy Friday!

Silk Roses

2012-01-14T02:51:00.000-06:00

So, when I got out to my car this morning, Shane, wonderful hubby that he can be sometimes, had left this cute lil sign and some silk roses in my car. It was really sweet. Made me smile.

But the best part was the email he sent me of a txt he had sent to his friend about his Walmart experience. (which is where he got the roses).

Check it out below, it's really funny!

Husband's txt to his friend:

I went to Walmart tonight, I decided that I wanted to do something sweet for Chrissy. I wanted to leave her some roses in her car on the steering wheel and a note saying "have a happy Friday" So I came toWalmart. I went in to buy a fabric rose from the craft Department. I found one that has 7 roses on it, cost 94 cents. I walk to the front of the store and after waiting forever to check out the cashier gets to me.

I hand her the 94 cent roses and she looks right at me and says "ah, are you going to propose to someone?" I just stared for a second....and just had to think...is the economy that bad and has romance died so much that someone would spend a whopping 94 cents to PROPOSE??

I said, "uh, no. I just wanted to do something sweet for my wife." Crazy.

So now I'm sitting way in the back of the parking lot typing this out and I'm driving the security guard nuts, he's trying to figure out what I'm doing way out here!
Anywho, if someone used 94 cent flowers to propose, they deserve to be told no!!!!

Sheesh

I was highly amused. :)

Texas Two Step Conference

2012-01-08T20:51:00.000-06:00

Soooo.... NTRWA, my writers' group is having an AWESOME conference in March.

Here are the highlights:

Bestselling Author Mari Mancusi, Social Media Expert Kristen Lamb, Samhain
Publishing's Lindsey Faber, L Perkins Agency's Louise Fury, and The Nelson
Literary Agency's Sara Megibow will be our spotlight guests at the 2012
North Texas Two Step Conference.

Editor Lindsey Faber and Agent Louise Fury have offered to host a critique
session during the conference. With this offering, you will have a choice
between a traditional pitch session or a critique. The critique will be set
up in a way that you'll send 10 pages in a month before the conference and
then during the conference you'll go into a group critique session with your
industry professional. This is a great chance for you to get in front of an
agent/editor even if your story isn't ready to pitch and submit.

Kristen Lamb will be doing a small session on Social Media. Limited in size,
this will be a small group session where you will get a more personalized
chance to sit with Kristen and ask any Social Media Questions you have.

Friday night will be a book signing, open to the public, with a percentage
of proceeds going to support Children's Literacy. If you're a published
author interested in participating, please contact Nikki. You can
participate with indie-published print books, but you must be registered for
the conference.

The registration form
and tentative list of workshops and panels can be found on the Two Step Conference Website

The conference will take place at the Hilton Garden Las Colinas conveniently located near the DFW airport and many shops and restaurants.
We have negotiated a special room rate of $89, but you must be registered
for the conference to use it.

The conference will kick off Friday evening with a book signing where we'll
auction off Saturday lunches with our editors, agents and features speakers.
A percentage of book sale proceeds will go to benefit Children's Literacy.

We hope to see you there. If you have any questions, please do not hesitate
to contact NT's Program Director and contest coordinator Nikki Duncan.

Samhain Publishing and Entangled Publishing have both generously offered
sponsorship help to pull off this conference.

Spread the news and let's make this conference a huge success.

I am going! Hope to see everyone there. :)

Resolutions... ?

2012-01-07T04:55:00.000-06:00

Well, maybe this is a bit late, considering it's very early on Jan 7th, but I decided a few things...

in 2012 I resolve to do a whole buncha stuff, none of which is horribly difficult. Well, maybe one...or two...hehehehe

1). STOP cussing. Sometimes I feel like a sailor, or a truck driver, and honestly, it's UNNECESSARY. (I should point out that I have already broken this resolution about 1000 times since Jan 1...same as last year)

2). Lose Weight. (This one has been on the list, oh, about 20 years)

3. CEASE with being the LAZIEST WRITER in the UNIVERSE.
Included in this is, work. Just plain WORK on writing EVERY day. Even if it's only a paragraph.
I feel so guilty when I am not writing. Don't worry, it's not too much self-imposed pressure, but when I am at work all I am thinking about is writing, and then when I am home, or free, I DON'T. It's point blank UNACCEPTABLE for me as a person.
Also a part of this, is that I would like to be more of a Plotter than the Panster I SOOO am. I would like to do more than short notes to myself and short character sketches. I don't outline, I need to. I think it would help me organize my thoughts and make me a better writer all around.

I think that's about it. Finishing my 2nd and 3rd books in my Call series as well as work on the wolf-shifters and the other things floating around in my head all fall into #3 Resolution so I think I'm good.

Nothing a little determination won't solve! I CAN DO IT! :)

What about you guys? What did you resolve to make of your 2012?

Happy New Year!

2012-01-01T02:19:00.000-06:00

Festival, New year | Forward this Picture

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!!!!!!!!

Here's a toast to 2012! Hoping everyone had a lovely and safe adventure of bringing in the new year.

Hope you stick to your resolutions and achieve all your goals, may they be personal or professional!

Favorite Christmas Present

2011-12-25T18:27:00.000-06:00

So, my family spoiled me a but this Christmas, but I have to share with you guys my two favorite presents!

Both from Shane, I adore them. A writer shirt and Dragon Slippers!

So, what did you guys get for Christmas?

Hope you had a fantastic one!

Merry Christmas!

2011-12-25T00:52:00.000-06:00

Christmas | Forward this Picture

I just wanted to say MERRY CHRISTMAS to everyone! I hope you use the day to spend with family and friends, filled with love and laughter! For those of us who can't be with family, let them be in your hearts and thoughts and send them your love.

And Happy Birthday Jesus!

As We Were Saying: GFTW's Blog

2011-12-22T21:24:00.001-06:00

I am featured on the blog of one of my writers' groups today! YAY!

Please check it out!

Greater Ft. Worth Writers' Blog

Books Anyone?

2011-12-20T00:33:00.000-06:00

I stole this from an author I like's Blog, L.J. McDonald. She found it while surfing the web. To quote her, she said, "Apparently the BBC feels that most people will only have read six of the hundred books listed here."

Thought I would give it a shot myself. See if I can beat the "six."

Bold those books you’ve read in their entirety.

Italicize the ones you started but didn’t finish or read only an excerpt.

1 Pride and Prejudice – Jane Austen
2 The Lord of the Rings – JRR Tolkien
3 Jane Eyre – Charlotte Bronte
4 Harry Potter series
5 To Kill a Mockingbird – Harper Lee
6 The Bible
7 Wuthering Heights – Emily Bronte
8 Nineteen Eighty Four – George Orwell
9 His Dark Materials – Philip Pullman
10 Great Expectations – Charles Dickens
11 Little Women – Louisa M Alcott
12 Tess of the D’Urbervilles – Thomas Hardy
13 Catch 22 – Joseph Heller
14 Complete Works of Shakespeare
15 Rebecca – Daphne Du Maurier
16 The Hobbit – JRR Tolkien
17 Birdsong – Sebastian Faulks
18 Catcher in the Rye – JD Salinger
19 The Time Traveller’s Wife – Audrey Niffenegger
20 Middlemarch – George Eliot
21 Gone With The Wind – Margaret Mitchell
22 The Great Gatsby – F Scott Fitzgerald
23 Bleak House – Charles Dickens
24 War and Peace – Leo Tolstoy
25 The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy – Douglas Adams
26 Brideshead Revisited – Evelyn Waugh
27 Crime and Punishment – Fyodor Dostoyevsky
28 Grapes of Wrath – John Steinbeck
29 Alice in Wonderland – Lewis Carroll
30 The Wind in the Willows – Kenneth Grahame
31 Anna Karenina – Leo Tolstoy
32 David Copperfield – Charles Dickens
33 Chronicles of Narnia – CS Lewis
34 Emma – Jane Austen
35 Persuasion – Jane Austen
36 The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe – CS Lewis
37 The Kite Runner – Khaled Hosseini
38 Captain Corelli’s Mandolin – Louis De Bernieres
39 Memoirs of a Geisha – Arthur Golden
40 Winnie the Pooh – AA Milne
41 Animal Farm – George Orwell
42 The Da Vinci Code – Dan Brown
43 One Hundred Years of Solitude – Gabriel Garcia Marquez
44 A Prayer for Owen Meaney – John Irving
45 The Woman in White – Wilkie Collins
46 Anne of Green Gables – LM Montgomery
47 Far From The Madding Crowd – Thomas Hardy
48 The Handmaid’s Tale – Margaret Atwood
49 Lord of the Flies – William Golding
50 Atonement – Ian McEwan
51 Life of Pi – Yann Martel
52 Dune – Frank Herbert
53 Cold Comfort Farm – Stella Gibbons
54 Sense and Sensibility – Jane Austen
55 A Suitable Boy – Vikram Seth
56 The Shadow of the Wind – Carlos Ruiz Zafon
57 A Tale Of Two Cities – Charles Dickens
58 Brave New World – Aldous Huxley
59 The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time – Mark Haddon
60 Love In The Time Of Cholera – Gabriel Garcia Marquez
61 Of Mice and Men – John Steinbeck
62 Lolita – Vladimir Nabokov
63 The Secret History – Donna Tartt
64 The Lovely Bones – Alice Sebold
65 Count of Monte Cristo – Alexandre Dumas
66 On The Road – Jack Kerouac
67 Jude the Obscure – Thomas Hardy
68 Bridget Jones’s Diary – Helen Fielding
69 Midnight’s Children – Salman Rushdie
70 Moby Dick – Herman Melville
71 Oliver Twist – Charles Dickens
72 Dracula – Bram Stoker
73 The Secret Garden – Frances Hodgson Burnett
74 Notes From A Small Island – Bill Bryson
75 Ulysses – James Joyce
76 The Bell Jar – Sylvia Plath
77 Swallows and Amazons – Arthur Ransome
78 Germinal – Emile Zola
79 Vanity Fair – William Makepeace Thackeray
80 Possession – AS Byatt
81 A Christmas Carol – Charles Dickens
82 Cloud Atlas – David Mitchel
83 The Color Purple – Alice Walker
84 The Remains of the Day – Kazuo Ishiguro
85 Madame Bovary – Gustave Flaubert
86 A Fine Balance – Rohinton Mistry
87 Charlotte’s Web – EB White
88 The Five People You Meet In Heaven – Mitch Albom
89 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes – Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
90 The Faraway Tree Collection – Enid Blyton
91 Heart of Darkness – Joseph Conrad
92 The Little Prince – Antoine De Saint-Exupery
93 The Wasp Factory – Iain Banks
94 Watership Down – Richard Adams
95 A Confederacy of Dunces – John Kennedy Toole
96 A Town Like Alice – Nevil Shute
97 The Three Musketeers – Alexandre Dumas
98 Hamlet – William Shakespeare
99 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory – Roald Dahl
100 Les Miserables – Victor Hugo

So, I suddenly feel uncultured, because I have only finished 14...and read parts of 14 others.

I saw the movies of many I didn't read. Does that count?

You guys want to give it a shot?

Christmas is coming...

2011-12-13T18:14:00.000-06:00

So, I don't know about you but Dec (and Christmas) has snuck up on me yet again. I can't believe it's almost here. Are y'all ready? I'm getting there. My shopping is 98% done and I got a new Christmas tree. I am uber proud of it. It turned out gorgeous, check out the pics:

It took me a bit longer to get into the Christmas Spirit this year, but I have been checking out a few Christmas novellas. They always seem to help out. :) I just read a really good/cute one by Shannon Stacey called Mistletoe and Margaritas you should check out. I am in the middle of Its Not Christmas Without You by Helenkay Dimon that I am enjoying immensely.

Haven't been writing much. Have been sick as a dog the last few days, but I can't really blame it on that. I need to get motivated, I know. Hopefully I will get something done this w/end overnight at work--I usually do.

Anyway, hope everyone else is being more productive than me!

Oh, I also hope to finish editing one of the other excerpts I am going to post on my "Pieces of Me" for you all to check out. :)

3am Rambles

2011-12-04T03:16:00.000-06:00

So, I am sitting here working at the Shelter and I should be working on my book 2 of my Call series but it just doesn't seem to be happening for some reason.

I was reading the lovely comments I got on my Jensen & Kes excerpt on my "Pieces of Me" page and I wanted to THANK YOU guys! All of you for the comments and then those that read it but didn't comment--that's okay, too. I am glad you took the time to check it out, and thank you if you got even one second of enjoyment out of it.

I know it's an intimate scene and I really thought about things before I posted it. I know ALOT of ppl see things you post online (it is the World Wide Web, after all), and I am not embarrassed that I wrote it, and alot of ppl know I write romance, so I guess I just have to deal if ppl I didn't expect see it and make a judgement about me. Like it or not, there really still IS a stigma about the romance genre...people use words like "smut" "porn." I don't feel like it's either. I am proud of how it turned out, actually, which is why I chose to post it.

I AM going to post other things, and as far as I know right now, that scene will be the only one that is of a sexual nature.

Something entirely different came to me tonight and I wrote it down, so I may post it. I don't know what it would end up being, I actually had a dream and just started typing. It would be in the paranormal category, I suppose, but different than anything I have ever attempted.

On another note entirely, I have 21 Followers! YAY! Thanx GUYS! Your support means a great deal to me, seriously.

Well, I am going to try to accomplish SOMETHING.

Hope everyone is having sweet dreams.

Week...

2011-11-29T20:05:00.000-06:00

It's only Tuesday but it feels like it should be Friday. It's been a busy and rough week. I am sooooooo glad I am off tomorrow, but it won't be a relaxing day. It will be a day for cleaning and prepping the house for the carpet cleaning guy to come next week.YAY for clean carpets but a big bummer that I will have to wait til then to put up the Christmas tree. But, that's okay. The house will be spic and span for the family on Christmas. :)

As far as writing, I am editing the second book in the series I am working on. I worked a little on my break at work but I hope to really dig in tomorrow evening.

And this w/end at work (yes, I work overnight again) I am hoping to not only edit, but add some short stories or something that I have written on my "Pieces of Me" page here. I am hoping you will all check it out when I get things posted.

Have a good rest of the week.

Happy blogging, reading, writing, whatever you do. :)

Blogging

2011-11-27T19:15:00.001-06:00

I am having a blast customizing my blog. If anybody has suggestions that I need something I am missing, please let me know. AND if said suggestion is difficult, instructions can be helpful. ;)

sigh

2011-11-27T04:32:00.000-06:00

So, I kinda broke my own rule by not posting on Saturday, cuz I told myself I would try my best to do a daily post.

Well, sorry, I am going to try to make up for it right now.

As some of you know, I work at an Emergency Shelter for Teens. I work w/end overnights, and usually I get ALOT of writing done when I come in here. Well, last night I achieved the 4 Crits I had to do for some CPs and then I actually was able to review, revise and edit the first two chapters of the second book in my "Call" series that I am working on. YAY! GO me.

I had already made my mind up Saturday evening that I would 1). Play with my blog. Do more customizing and I have decided I am going to attempt to do a "Featured Book" Page or something like it where I can review books I have read....I am thinking I like the idea...what do you guys think? If you have suggetions, or you want me to review YOUR book, I promise I will be nice. I am surrounded by so many awesome authors, it wouldn't be hard, anyways. But, I digress.

and 2). I was REALLY going to dig in DEEP and get SOOOOO much accomplished on my book. Right? Well....as happens sometimes, life made some decisions for me that I didn't necessarily agree w/.

I came into work a bit early (just after 9:30) for a co-worker who's original plan was to leave early as well. But unfortunately life intervened for her as well....ANNNNNNND

We get a call from another co-worker who is in the van on the way back from the outing to the movie with 8 kiddos. They were RIGHT OUT FRONT of the Shelter on the main very busy road...ANNNNNDDDD

A DRUNK DRIVER hit them. NO JOKE! Head on, even. So, we all scramble outside, as well as about half the Ft. Worth Police Dept. Two Ambulances, two Fire-trucks.

So, keep in mind I am working overnight. I will be on duty until 7:30am.

Two kids are hurt (MINORLY, no heart attacks please) and so yours truly has to go to the hospital with them because they are "in care." *sigh*

THANK GOD they are okay, I REALLY DO! HONEST. But, we have to go to County Hospital and it ALWAYS sux. Then, come to find out (I obviously didn't get the memo) it was CAR ACCIDENT SATURDAY in Fort Worth, TX. Wow...I wish someone would have told me.

We got to the hospital (them in ambulance, me in one of our other vans) at about 10:30. There were gurneys, injured folks and cops EVERYWHERE. You would have thought the place was the police station.

Well., X-ray was pretty quick. Then we waited....and waited....waited and waited some more. To the tune of 3:00AM.

The Doc came in and said "X-Rays look good. You can go home" ARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH Seriously????????? They didn't even give them a PRESCRIPTION.

Oh, and LET ME ADD! HE didn't even step FULLY into the Trauma Bay to tell us!

So, therefore I am at *sigh* It's 4:31 and I am ranting.

Wow, I should write a book, huh?

Black Friday.

2011-11-25T20:14:00.000-06:00

SO, I did not go out into the madness and shop. For the last several years, I have done the majority of my shopping online. That seems the best route to the madness of the DFW area, even on a regular basis.

However, I was also vying for the World's Laziest Writer award today, and I didn't do anything.

I have to work overnight tonight so I have to do some crits for some friends and then I WILL accomplish something.

Hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving and a good Black Friday whether you shopped or not!

Happy Thanksgiving

2011-11-24T11:31:00.000-06:00

Hi all. Hope everyone has a wonderful holiday! We have plenty to be thankful for! Hope you share it well with you and yours. Happy Turkey Day!

Anne McCaffrey dies at 85

2011-11-23T11:35:00.000-06:00

SO I am not exactly overjoyed that this is my 2 post, but I just found out that my favorite author of all time, one of the MAJOR reasons I am a writer has passed away at 85. It really saddens me.

http://today.msnbc.msn.com/id/45409015/ns/today-books/t/science-fiction-author-anne-mccaffrey-dies/#.Ts0t92XeySp

My First Post

2011-11-23T10:39:00.000-06:00

I would love if this was fantastic, but I am still learning things on here. So, I am hoping there will be more to follow.