Thursday, December 31, 2009

New Year, New Stories!

At least that is what I am hoping for. On my Facebook page I'm part of a group that does haikus. Quirky, I know, but I tell you, it's catchy. I was sick as a dog one evening and as I was paying homage to Odin the Porcelain God I was running haikus in my head describing the situation. I just never write them down. So I've decided that I will use a Photo-A-Day website and write a haiku from that picture. That is, of course, if I don't already have a haiku for that day. I'm thinking, too, that I may want to use said picture for some writing. That may work instead of the old Writing Prompt thing.

Either way, I want to be writing more and more this year, as well as working on my crafty stuff. And practicing flute more. Amongst other stuff.

Happy New Year, folks!

Sunday, October 25, 2009

Dropping Plates

Okay, remember when I said that I sometimes use salty language and adult situations in some of my stories? Here's a short snippet I wrote using a Disturbed song as inspiration. Yes, there's an f-bomb in there. Yes, it's quite the adult situation. If this offends you, there is a little box in the upper right hand corner of your screen. Just click it, and go to a family-friendly story site. But come back later, because I do indeed write non-saucy stuff ;)

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Now, if you are a curious reader and are over the age of 18, please click the link below to be take to the story. If you are a curious reader under the age of 18, I would suggest you turn around right now and go read something else, or I'll be contacting your parents about what a bawdy little monkey that they have raised.

Without further ado, I present.......

"Dropping Plates"

Sunday, October 11, 2009

Sample Chapter One

This is a piece I wrote for my English class way back when I was actually taking college courses, using two characters from a book I'm still planning to write. And I got an A on the paper :)
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Sorcery and Steele Sample Chapter
Christian Finds Out

Slowly she pulled her hair back, wrapping it securely at the nape of her neck with a worn strip of leather. Her hair cascaded down her back to her waist and wispy strands framed her face as her steely blue gaze fell upon him.

Standing over six and a half feet tall, he towered over the smaller woman. Raven hair long and flowing, he was a sight to behold. His skin was white and flawless as polished marble, and his eyes were the shade of evergreens, framed by long, dark lashes. He was bare to the waist, taut skin wrapped around muscle and bone. He wore tan sheepskin leggings and boots made of worn, brown leather, tied with strops of rawhide. The black leather sword frog that held his scabbard at his side was bare of his weapon, the casing and blade lying on the floor a few feet away. They called him Steele, and his name fit his demeanor.

"Christian, are you sure about this?" he questioned, never taking his eyes off her. She moved in slow semicircles in front of him, the heels of her boots never seeming to touch the floor as she treaded lightly on the balls of her feet. She smiled wickedly, but never broke her gaze.

Christian was a lithe woman, strong and quick. Blue eyed like her father, light skinned as her mother, she was a perfect mixture of her parentage. She had grown up in the kingdom of Danforth, on the Balsamic Sea, where her father, King William, reigned with his wife Elizabeta by his side. Christian had always been tomboyish, forgoing the pageantry of court life for the action of the battlefield. At first her parents vehemently disagreed, but after seeing Christian's determination and skill, they finally relented.

Christian stood across from Steele, in black woolen leggings and matching leather boots, the insides worn thin from the hours she spent in the saddle. Her emerald green tunic, trimmed with strands of shimmering gold on the sleeves and neckline, was strewn across the back of a chair, her sword and black leather scabbard balanced against the edge, and she wore a padded yellow undershirt, used to protect her skin from the heavy chainmaille she wore. Bent slightly at the waist, leaning towards him and locking stares, she continued to smile. She kept her hands near her waist, forward with fingers outstretched, her elbows cocked and back.

"I am so sure of this, Steele," she replied. "How else can I get you to respect me?" He cocked an eyebrow in disbelief and chuckled.

"I have never given you cause to doubt my fascination with you, nor have I ever entertained the thought that you were beneath me. I have nothing but the utmost repsect for you and your honour." Before she could answer, Christian found herself locked in Steele's arms, his iron grip seeming to crush her sides. She gasped and the pain intensified. She felt as if red-hot pokers were being jabbed between her ribs and rattled around, her lungs burning for oxygen. Tiny spots began appearing in her peripheral vision and spread to the front, and darkness began slowly creeping into her line of sight. Struggle only made the pain worse, and finally she relented, allowing her muscles to relax and her body to go limp. Her eyes glazing over, she looked up at Steele's face and gasped.

His once-dark eyes were now clear with the tiniest hint of green ooutlining the iris, and his pupils were pinpoints. His pale skin was as white as alabaster and the contrast of his hair and skin was made all the more apparent. Noticing her glance, he smiled and Christian noticed the enlarged pointed canines. She tried to scream, but her lungs could not gather the air needed to emit a sound. Her breath became raspy, like wind blowing through a dry wheat field, and the darkness clouded her vision once more.

Steele tilted his head towards her, cheek to cheek, his lips curled in a sneer slashed across his face. He put his lips against her ear and nibbled on her lobe, causing twinges of pain to course through her body as his needle-sharp canines pierced her skin. His breath was hot on her skin and rushed through her ear, sounding like a million steeds in full gallop.

"Is this how it needs to be?" he hissed. "Do I need to treat you like fodder? You see me now as I truly am." He grabbed the back of her hair and pulled her head back. She could see the animosity burning in his eyes, could feel the anger boiling inside of him as he glared at her. "I am the bringer of death to those around me, those I choose to drain of their essence. I chose who lives and I choose who dies. You cannot beat me. You will never be as strong as I am, even if there were a thousand of you."
Grabbing her by the back of the neck, Steele swung around and pushed her toward the turret window. The strength of his hand clamped against the delicate skin on her neck caused the skin to redden and blaze with pain. He forced her to gaze at the expanse of land spread out before them.

"Do you see this, milady?" he asked, seeming to choke on the words. "Do you see all this land below our very feet?" He leaned closer. "This is all mine," he hissed, "When you married me, you gave up your right to own anything, including the territories left you by your worthless father."
Tears welled in Christian's eyes as she thought of her father. His jovial smile that lit up the room, his deep, booming vopice that always seemed to comfort her, even when she was being chastised, The way he and her mother Elizabeta always looked at one another that showed the love shared between them, the love Christian realized she would never have with Steele.

Anger welled in the pit of her stomach, boiling up and filling her belly with its warmth. Slowly she realized the hold Steele had on her physical body was diminishing, that her limbs were gathering strength in her fury. Her heart pounded furious beats in her ears, filling her every sense with strength, and she closed her eyes, allowing the rage to wash over her. Deep in her mind, she heard the scream of a woman, her mother, and she whirled. She grabbed Steele by the wrist and twisted, pulling him to her so they stood, noses touching. The surprise showed in his eyes at her brute strength, and his mouth twisted in fury.

First!

I think I'm going to follow my friend M's lead and create a blog that will hopefully inspire me to write more. I used to write all the time, carried around a small notebook for stories, words, sentences, inspirational things, but working and raising a kid and having to grow up to be a semi-responsible adult has somehow killed that. So I'll go back and find my old stories and post them here, as well as newer ones that I may (hopefully) come up with. I will warn you, Dear Reader, that I can be rather vulgar at times and will use some salty language. If this isn't something you are interested in reading, my suggestion would be to move along and find something that DOES tickle your fancy. For everyone else who likes to have a little smutty, trashy, not-for-polite-company guilty pleasure reading, my welcomes to you.

Enjoy.