#TuesdaySerial - Keila and Varick 4

***A little heat this week. And a little longer than normal.***

Varick immediately wrapped arms around me from behind, pressing me hard to his chest. I moaned softly, months of longing ripping through me, flooding me with heat and sensation.

"Choose, quickly," the vampire growled in my ear. His hunger pulsed at my shields, and I opened myself to him. "Your bed or the couch?"

Images came with his words, shooting straight to my core. Varick wasn't asking permission to have me; he was going to take me tonight, going to feed. The only say I got in the matter was where.

"Bed," I forced out in a strangled whisper. It was hard to think with his hands and mouth on me, but what we were going to do didn't require thought.

Varick picked me up, carrying me to my room. He could have used vampiric speed to take me there in a blur, but he enjoyed the torture of the climb. Sapphire eyes stared at me, dark and narrowed with passion.

I wound his hair around my fingers, thinking only of his touch. My normal awkward feeling about being carried like this was cast aside. This Valkyrie was proud to be taken away like a prize.

He kicked my door closed and it slammed, rattling my window. So much for subtlety.

My room was dark, but that didn't bother the vampire. He found my bed easily enough, kneeling to set me on it. "The last time I saw you was unconscious in this very room."

I wasn't in the mood for talking. Desire ruled my mind, and I was finally back in Varick's arms. I kissed him, pressing my tongue past his lips. The vampire groaned deeply as my tongue rubbed a fang. I licked it again, aware of how much he liked it through our connection.

Having our spirits joined was almost like cheating.

Varick still knelt by the bed, clutching the edge and holding still. Keep doing that, he commanded mentally.

I swung around so he knelt between my legs, holding my heels behind his knees. My hands trembled only slightly as I ran them through his hair to cradle his head.

Then I moved to his mouth.

Varick's lips were parted, giving me full access. I flicked my tongue across his lower lip, teasing and tasting, but not joining. My experiences were actually pretty light when it came to the sensual, but I read and observed a lot. I drew on those knowledges in an attempt to impress him.

"You do not need to try anything." His whisper against my mouth set my skin to prickling. "Be only yourself."

I leaned back a little, staring at the soft glow that was his face. "You do remember that I don't know anything?"

Varick grabbed my hips fiercely, jerking me against his erection. "Does it seem like it matters to me?" I gasped, grinding against him, remembering our night together.

He leaned in to kiss my neck, hands roving up my sides. "Will it embolden you if I say no one has ever licked my fangs?" I said nothing, my hands sliding across his shoulders. "You gave me intense pleasure without trying to be someone else." The vampire drug his fangs across my skin.

I was absolutely molten, my core running with juices. His words did make me bolder, gave me strength. hen he leaned back, I dove for his mouth.

No taunting this time, I plunged into him, gripping the back of his head.

My tongue played between his fangs, touching his tongue and retreating. In and out, touching the insides of his fangs, sliding against them. He held still, though I felt a tremble building in him.

Grabbing a handful of his hair, I gave a growl of my own as I tipped his head back. Varick opened his mouth further, accommodating me as I licked one fang from tip to root, then the other.

I was driving him crazy. He shared his hunger with me for a moment, and my jaws ached. As much as he wanted to drive himself into me, Varick wanted to see how high I could crank the tension.

Obliging him was fun.

The vampire's fangs were modified eyeteeth. Normal width, and only a little forward of alignment, they were about half an inch long and sharp like a cat's. Two razor blades in his mouth, perfect for punching through skin and vein.

And apparently extremely erotic.

Varick's breath caught as I focused on his right fang, hands stiff on my back. Twice I flicked the tip of my tongue across it, then slowly traced the point. He ached for release, but wasn't at the edge of control yet.

So I slowly curled my tongue around the sharp point, then along the back. My tongue stud clicked against enamel, and I started the withdrawing stroke. A fresh stroke with the underside of my tongue up the front, then down and up the back. Again and again, incredibly slow.

It didn't seem at all strange that I was giving oral sex to a tooth.

Varick might not have been ready, but I was. I had to be bitten. When I flicked my tongue across the tip and he only groaned, I lost a little control. Impatience was compounded by desire.

There was only a little sting when I sliced my tongue on the razor point.

He growled and clutched me, one hand fisting in my hair. I moaned and writhed against him, my need an all-consuming fire.

But still he didn't bite me.

Surely he knew what I wanted, what we needed. There was no mistaking his hunger; it was a heavy blaze to my empathy, raging through him. One could only have so much foreplay.

I pressed my bloody tongue to his, and the flavor broke him.

Varick practically roared as he jerked my head back. I went limp, instantly submissive to his demands. The fangs I'd just worked into a frenzy plunged deep into my neck. I cried out, completely forgetting myself in the moment.

The pain of penetration lasted only a moment before the pleasure took over. Blood rushed to his mouth, and Varick growled as I filled him. Ecstasy danced across my nerves, and I was instantly dizzy.

It was good to have him back.

Buck-toothed #vampires

I love True Blood. Alexander Skarsgard is smoking hot. Until he pops his fangs out. Then I just can't look at him.

Fangs do not belong on incisors!

Seriously, make-up effects people, you're making the sexy man look like a dork. Canine teeth, please.

"But what if the prosthetics don't allow the actor to close his mouth?" Make better teeth, or get a different actor. I've worn fake Halloween fangs, and I was able to talk and close my mouth. And those were off the shelf stuff, not really molded to my mouth.

I will grant that a double-fang (canine and incisor) is pretty hot. It's more dangerous, more likely to have a littly pain. And it will definitely leave a mark you'll never forget.

For those who want to defend the buck-toothed vampire, let me point out Karl Urban in Priest. He was perfect in his prosthetics, and knew just how to flash them.

That's how fangs should be.

...now if only I could get Orlando Bloom into some...

#FridayFlash - Escape

A long howl filled the air, and the couple froze. Were they discovered? They'd been careful, covered their tracks, hidden their scent, done everything to keep their escape viable.

Other howls answered. The wulfen were on the hunt. Hearts pounding, hands clasped, they ran through the night. With luck, they'd make it to the river.

Neither thought about the unlucky outcome.

The gibbous moon lit their path, though nothing could be bright enough in the thick forest. Old growth trees soared overhead, reclaiming the land as if humans had never been there. Only this narrow lane of asphalt was left, and even that was cracked and fallen apart.

Wulfen howled again, calling to each other. The woman was familiar with their cries, and knew the monsters weren't on their scent yet. Luck was still on their side.

"Hurry," the man urged, tugging on her hand. The air smelled damp, and the first tinkle of water came to their ears. They were getting closer to the boundary.

The first excited howl went up, and the woman cringed. The pack had found them. More calls, drawing nearer. Adrenaline filled the couple's veins, and they ran faster.

Freedom wasn't far now. A half mile at the most. The wulfen wouldn't cross the river. The man was from the human lands, knew they'd be safe. No more thralldom for either of them. Only safety in which to relish their love.

The pack did nothing to hide their presence, howls telling the humans exactly where they were. None of them were close.

A flash of silver, the river in moonlight. Escape!

The woman screamed when the silhouette of a wulfen blocked the view. No one ever got out once in wulfen lands. She sobbed, awaiting punishment.

#TuesdaySerial - Keila and Varick 3

The movie was over, and since Varick and I weren't in the throes of passion, Chris and Simy gave us their attention.

"Let's see this fuzzbutt," the heavyset Chris said, getting out of the recliner. Simy fetched the box and started unpacking kitten accouterments.

Kitten protested only briefly as I handed him over, then leaned up to sniff Chris's beard. My animal senses weren't working as strongly as they had in the kitchen, but I could tell Kitten was happy.

Varick stayed out of the way, but I felt him watching me.

"He's cute." Chris ruffled his head and handed him back. "He come with a name?" This directed at the vampire.

"I believe he will pick a name when he is ready." He moved closer, laying a hand in the small of my back as he rubbed Kitten's head. "Something suitable."

"Just so long as it isn't Mittens, that's all I'll say." Chris glanced at where Simy was unpacking.

"Dude, is there anything you didn't get?" Simy asked. Spread out on the coffee table, there certainly seemed to be a lot of stuff.

"I recall cats to be finicky creatures. The breeder said Maine Coons are not high strung, just demanding and discerning."

"Finicky," Chris said, returning to the chair.

Nuzzling Kitten, I wondered if he really would tell me his name. Or would it just come to me, intuitively? "Can't be any worse than dealing with you two." We all laughed.

"Litter and box. Food, wet and dry." Varick rattled off the inventory. "Balls, mice, bells, feathers, stick. Catnip. Treats. Bed, brush, clippers, dishes, mat."

"That is thorough." I took Kitten to the table and set him amongst the booty. "There has to be something in here he likes.

Sniffing briefly at a pack of fur mice, Kitten began to explore. He had none of a cat's grace yet, and stumbled through the items. Tail up and ears pricked, Kitten moved to each item at his own pace. I sat down, content to just watch.

We all were.

Varick rmoved his coat, then joined me on the floor, putting an arm around my shoulders. I turned and smiled at him. "Thank you."

He smiled back, then kissed my forehead. "You already thanked me."

"I'm just so...happy about him. I never even knew I wanted a kitten until now. It's perfect." I kissed him.

"Kitty, no!" Simy shouted. I turned just in time to watch Kitten make a leap for the Christmas tree. Simy made a grab for him, but he was already in the air.

The gap between table and tree was about eighteen inches, and he almost made it. Paws touched the lowest branch, and Kitten flailed as he desperately tried to catch hold.

But he wasn't that skilled yet.

We laughed, and I crawled to him. He sat with all the dignity a baby could muster, ears halfway back. I laughed even harder, poking him on the nose. "Don't worry, you'll get it." He merely blinked at me.

The evening passed with joy and humor, the four of us playing with the kitten and suggesting names. Nothing stuck, so I continued thinking of him as Kitten. He'd figure out his name in time.

Kitten eventually got tired and wound down. Chris went to bed, and Simy got him food and water. I tried to get my little one to settle in the kitty cushion, but he had no interest in it.

Instead, he insisted I let him get into the big box. Shaking my head, but smiling, I put him in. Varick dropped his coat in, and Kitten purred contentedly.

"He was obsessed with my coat at home," the vampire explained.

"Thanks for the loan." Simy returned with two small dishes, one food, one water. "You mind if those go in with him?"

"Anything to please Liebchen and Katzchen." I bit my tongue stud as I fought my reaction to his endearing words.

Simy yawned, petting kitten a final time. "Little guy is tuckered out." The purrs were dying down as he snuggled into leather. "Too tired even for a drink. I'll have one for you, mate." The kiwi gave me a hug, nodded at Varick, then started up the stairs.

I became painfully aware we were alone when Simy's door closed.

The sophistication of my literary palette

I didn't always like dark fantasy and anti-heroes and tragic endings. That all came as I matured and began to experience the world.

When I was a little kid, I liked happy stories, with happy endings. I rooted for the good guy and booed the bad guy. The easy answers were the best; light will always triumph over dark.

Some people's palette for food changes as they grow, becoming more sophisticated. For me, it was my literary palette that changed. I wanted complexity, something unusual, and to be surprised. Good always beating Evil no matter what because it was Good and that's how it works just didn't cut it for me anymore.

I'm unable to contemplate reading a lot of the books I read when I was younger. Not because they're badly written, but because I'd rather not ruin a good memory when I end up throwing the book across the room.

Fish sticks just don't appeal after you've known fresh sushi.

#FridayFlash - War never changes

There was an adage that went, "War never changes." It used to be true. Humanity found any reason to fight; food, land, precious metals, religion. And they were good at it. Even thought they were the best at making war, that their ingeniousness and brutality knew no bounds.

Then the dragons came.

When the universe shifted and the new age began, no one quite knew what to expect. Cries of apocalypse went up, and they were mostly right. The original meaning of apocalypse is akin to unveiling. And the universe unveiled a glut of surprises in those early days.

Mankind dealt readily with the new races of people, along with the monsters and magic. They holed up in their cities, waging wars on the new way of things. The new age was fragile, and easily defeated.

At first.

Lands shifted. Mythical races reclaimed their ancient homes. Powers sprang up amongst the human population, and immortals came out of hiding. Wars raged with untold fury as mankind struggled to keep to the old ways.

Dragons have no concern for mortal weapons. When they were called to Earth, all they saw were dense feeding grounds. All those crunchy morsels, gathered into glass and concrete serving trays. Leather wings blocked the sun as the frenzy began.

Humans thought themselves prepared. They'd warped the myths so they came out the winners. Their stories and movies painted dragons as mindless beasts that could be shot from the sky.

San Diego was the first to fall.

Their massive size made people think dragons were unwieldy and cumbersome, thus they were underestimated. A few fighter jets were scrambled, but the humans relied on anti-aircraft artillery to fend off the scaled beasts.

Shells filled the air, arcing up at the assailants. Had they been mindless killing machines, many dragons would have fallen.

But dragons are ancient, highly intelligent, and trained for war. Bullets and planes were nothing compared to what they'd faced in previous ages. Diving and dodging, they avoided the defensive barrages. Fighter pilots screamed as they were ripped from the sky.

Human commanders tried to mount a proper defense, but their bases had been found. Planes were destroyed and people slaughtered as strafing runs began. Trails of fire poured from the dragons, igniting everything touched by flames.

The puny defenses broken, the dragons settled in to feed. Three million humans, devoured before sundown.

Mankind no longer underestimated their new foe. They couldn't let the dragons exist, had to stop the creatures from laying waste to another city. Launch codes were brought up for their nuclear arsenals.

But the immortals wouldn't allow that to happen. The power of the atom was denied to the mortals.

Those same immortals kept the dragons in check, as they had in previous ages. Humans were on the menu, but wholesale slaughter was denied.

Enslaved, humanity kept a wary eye on their masters. Dragonriders like me are always on hand to keep the slaves in line, reminding them of their place in the universe.

Dragonfire changes everything, especially war.

#TuesdaySerial - Keila and Varick 2

"You sneaky little ninja," I blurted. Varick retrieved the black furball, detaching claws from my jeans. The vampire handed me the miowing kitten, smiling cheerfully. "Good thing I'm not allergic."

Baby blue eyes stared at me as I held my present, and the cat immediately purred. Loudly. Anything else I might have been about to think was banished as psychic senses responded to him.

I didn't spend a lot of time around animals, and had never had a pet. We moved around too much to keep them. The powers had never really been used, but I could feel animals, even talk to them to a degree.

Those tertiary skills were in full effect right now. Young as he was, the kitten already had a strong personality. He was big and in charge, and wasn't scared of anything. And he was falling in love with me.

"You like him, then?" Varick leaned against a different counter, crossing his arms.

I was still rather speechless. This wasn't the kind of reaction I had very often. "He's adorable." The kitten mewed, then leaned down to nuzzle my hand. "He has little sideburns," I cooed.

"He is a pure bred Maine Coon. The only pure black one in several generations. I thought he might make you smile."

Cradling him against my chest, I began scratching his ears and back. Impossibly, his purrs grew louder. "I don't know what to say. Thanks doesn't seem like enough."

"A kiss would be sufficient," he teased.

Still petting my kitten, I moved to Varick and kissed his cheek. "Thank you."

He smiled, entire face lit with happiness. The moment lengthened and we were lost in each other. I didn't consciously decide to, but I leaned in to kiss him again.

The instant our lips met, something occurred to me. "I have nothing to feed him. No toys or dishes or anything."

Varick laughed, then grabbed the back of my head to kiss me soundly. "Do you really think I would give you an incomplete gift?"

"I don't know. I don't exactly get a lot of gifts." The kitten butted his head into my chest for attention.

The vampire caressed my face, trailing fingers over my lips. "I shall see about correcting that." Then he left in a blur.

Cold air gusted through the open door, and I went to the entryway. Varick was back before I could close it, bearing a box full of cat items. "One more," he said, then sped away. Rubbing Kitten's ears, I was slightly jealous of that ability.

He returned with a deluxe cat tree, and my eyes widened. "How did you fit that in the Charger?"

"Practice," he replied, giving me a crooked grin. He closed the door with his foot, and carried the cat furniture into the living room.

"I'm not ready for smart-alec Varick." I followed him into the room, still stroking my baby. My kitten.

Would anyone have guessed I'd have taken to pethood so quicklu?

Living on a prayer

The Bon Jovi song "Living on a Prayer" has a lot of meaning for me lately. The song is sad and uplifting, demonstrating that love makes everything better. "We've got each other, and that's a lot."

It means so much because my husband has been trying to tell me this for years, and I've been struggling. None of the bad things are so terrible they can take away from our love.

The philosophy is sinking in, banishing my dark troubles. I've always loved him, always been happy with him. We'd simply been through a massive trial, and it left me a little bitter. I was missing the most important thing because I was looking at a petty list of "issues".

He's extremely patient, and has kept at me. We aren't homeless, we don't have cancer, and neither of us are in prison. Every morning finds us waking up in each other's arms.

The romantic in me finally shed her cloak of woes and remembered the most basic tenet of falling in love; being together is all that matters.

#FridayFlash - Trust Games

Here's something of Keila and Varick. They're a lot on my mind...probably because I'm in the middle of edits. A little racy, a lotta fun.



I was either too trusting or madly in love. Maybe both.

Varick's hands were strong, comforting, as he brushed my hair and pulled it into a topknot. The vampire said nothing, his presence locked behind iron walls, preparations nearly concluded.

A shiver raced through me as I anticipated what was to happen next.

Securing my hair with a leather clasp, Varick draped the length of it over my left shoulder. I stiffened as he traced a scar on my shoulder, then pricked the rose of my armband tattoo. I was forbidden to say anything, and barely suppressed a moan.

"You are quite beautiful tonight, mein herz." His voice was icy and deep, the tone of a predator. My eyes cosed and my pulse jumped. "You have no idea how pleasurable this is going to be."

I had a pretty vivid imagination, and not only did the German know that, he planned to take advantage of it. Not that I could do much to stop him with my wrists bound to a post on his bed. The silk rope bit into my wrists, igniting fires in my core.

Varick exhaled against the back of my neck, then stepped away. The night's entertainment had started. I bit my lip as I looked around the room.

His bedroom was lit by only a few candles. Just enough light to keep other senses from compensating for darkness. But there were plenty of shadows to hide my lover, for him to remain unseen as he watched me.

I wore only a thong and stockings, extremely vulnerable. The vampire had removed the curtains from his bed for our play, denying me that potential cover. No escaping his gaze.

A whisper of movement to my right, and I jerked my head around to look. He wasn't there. Instead, he moved behind me, fingers stroking my hips before he blurred away.

Varick could come and go in a flash, and I'd never see him. My hands were above my head, and there was only a little slack, meaning I couldn't even turn to face him.

Being helpless wasn't supposed to be this arousing was it?

The vampire made another pass, nails grazing my sides this time. I shivered, fighting not to moan. Desire burned my nerves, even as my blood chilled. I was being hunted, worked into a frenzy, and I had no idea when Varick would strike.

Not that I couldn't cut my way to freedom. It was just too much fun to acquiesce and let him take advantage of me. The ropes were the symbol of my trust; I gave myself completely to him.

Varick's hunting aura filled the room, stroking my senses, eliciting a small whimper. He still kept his emotions from me, but his hunger was everywhere. I was going to be devoured, consumed, and I couldn't wait.

My skin prickled as I realized he was right behind me. The vampire offered nothing to my senses, wasn't even breathing loud, but primal instincts knew I was in danger.

He continued to stand there, neither touching me nor moving. A shiver raced up my spin, and I tugged briefly at my bonds. Anticipation kicked my imagination into high gear. I wanted his hands on me, his fangs in me, his spirit around mine.

But he did nothing. Biting my lip, I glanced over my shoulder, meeting his sapphire eyes. My heart thundered in my chest as I expected him to lunge.

Varick stared at me stoicly, but I saw the hunger in his eyes. In a few months, I'd become adept at recognizing that look.

He wanted me. I wanted him. Why wasn't he biting me?

The hunt was over. I'd been caught by a superior predator, and he was due his feast. The vampire's hunger crushed me, making my loins ache, nipping at my nerves. It was time for the blood.

"Please," I whispered, tipping my head aside to offer my neck.

Varick wrapped me in his arms with a growl, biting deeply into the vein. I cried out, arching into him, anticipation subsumed by relief. Orgasm was instant, nearly painful in its intensity. The vampire consumed me, body and soul.

We both groaned when he stopped. The vampire shivered in pleasure, holding me tight. I sagged, weak and rapturous.

"Next time, you will escape." I sighed, already imagining that stalk.

I have to write

Everyone knows reading is a way to escape. Writing is just the next step. Escapism turns to godhood, and people make their way into our world.

I turned to writing not just to escape, but also to answer questions. What happens next? Why did he say that? Wouldn't it be better if the fight worked out this way?

My mind is extremely creative, and goes non-stop sometimes. I even play the "what if" game with myself. hat if that car had hit me? What if I'm Tweeting someone famous? What if I were to bite my husband just below the ear?

It's a lot of fun, even when it's aggravating. I had to take up writing or I'd go insane! Not every idea comes to light but enough of them do. I'll keep a few for myself and y'all can have the rest.

#TuesdaySerial - Keila and Varick 1

***This takes place directly after the final words of All Hallows Blood. For the newcomers, get to know Keila and Varick a little on my page. General set up: they had their grand adventure, but then Varick disappeared for two months. It's Christmas Eve, and Keila has decided she can live without him. He shows up with a black rose and a kitten.***

I clung to him, unbelieving. Varick was back, in my home, squeezing me to him. I hadn't been forgotten, hadn't been abandoned.

Entshuldigung, mein liebchen. His voice echoed inside my head, making me aware I'd opened myself to him. My heart raced, but I made no move to pull away spiritually. There was matters to attend, and I needed you to be safe.

Tears stung my eyes, and I held him tighter. I started to speak, but the lump in my throat killed the words. Varick stroked my hair, suffusing me with calm.

Chris and Simy were pointedly ignoring us, and for that I was glad. I needed a moment to settle and adjust. This certainly wasn't the reunion I'd anticipated.

"You didn't even call," I finally whispered.

Varick stiffened, and I felt his guilt. He pulled my head back by my hair and kissed. "I am sorry. And I know an apology will never be enough." He kissed me again, lingeringly. "I am unused to having someone else to think about. It only occurred to me yesterday that you might be worried."

The movie played in the background, and the kitten rubbed against my feet. I didn't let either distract me from my thoughts.

He didn't mean that I shouldn't have worried, or that I didn't mean anything to him. I tasted it through the joining of our spirits; the vampire just didn't think of two months as a long time to not communicate.

I stared into his dark blue eyes, letting the understanding sink in. Varick was an eight hundred year old vampire. Not entirely human, and not exactly mortal. Time was relative, and he had seen plenty of it.

"Never shall it happen again." He sealed the vow with a kiss.

Kissing him back, I let him know he was forgiven. Of course he was forgiven. There may have been worry and pining, but I'd also been happy. I'd gotten back on my feet, worked my way out of depression's bonds, and learned to accept my new family's support.

Varick not coming back wouldn't have changed any of that.

But he had come back. He'd brought me gifts and an apology and, judging by the way he growled as the kiss deepened, a raging desire.

Desire that was echoed in my heart. Two months had not quelled our interest in each other. His ozone and rainy night musk still turned me on, made me want him. His kiss still made my knees weak.

Chris cleared his throat, and I remembered that we weren't alone. Blushing furiously, I stepped away from Varick. He showed no signs of embarrassment, but he didn't press his point. Our connection dimmed without physical contact, but not before I caught an image from him; the boy watching while he bled and pleased me.

"You're bad," I hissed, eyes wide.

Varick was unrepentant, and curled one corner of his mouth to reveal fang. "Only because of you," he whispered.

I rolled my eyes, and continued in hushed tones. "Yes, I'm the bad influence."

He lowered his eyelids, cupping my face in strong hands. His nails were still a little long, and they grazed my skin. "Did you forget what I said or did you not believe?"

The intensity of his words and gaze took me by surprise. Definitely not the reunion I'd thought about.

"You mean when you said I make you lose control?" I bit my tongue ring, my gut twisting. My pulse raced as I remebered how passionate he'd been once he'd let go. The non-stop touches, all the caresses, the heavy looks.

Varick pulled me into the kitchen and around the corner, out of sight of Chris and Simy. Once in the shadows, he pressed me against a counter and wedged a thigh between my legs. Not quite kissing me, the vampire unleashed some of his hunger.

"I would have you right now if it did not embarrass you. Not calling did not mean you were absent from my thoughts." The vampire tipped my head to the side, and I clamped down on my tongue ring to keep from moaning. "I still have every intention of exploring the mystery of you."

My new kitten jumped onto my knee, preventing me from doing anything foolish in the kitchen.

#TuesdaySerial - My new thing

While I don't exactly think of my characters as actual living breathing entities, I do have a very dynamic place for them in my head. Meaning that there are things that happen to Keila and Varick between the books. Little events and day-to-day things that build them up, give them history, and let my imagination kill time.

Unfortunately, not all these events can fit in a book. Or need to be in a book. As my husband teased; if these were real chapters in a book, they'd be the chapters you skimmed through until you got to the good parts. Or it's too short an event to have anything resembling a plot, and not deserving of a real short story.

So rather than try to cram these snippets into a novel, I'm going to serialize them here. Around a thousand words at a time, so they're not even that overly long to sit and read. Nothing that has to do with plots, it's just fun with Keila and Varick. Get to know them, see their lust, their growth, the mundane little things they do as they fall in love. No titles, mostly chronological, no burden to read these to enjoy them in the books.

I'm not going over the books in these stories, though events will be referenced. Some of you will be familiar with All Hallows Blood and Saint Valentine's Clash, and some of you won't. I would like if you picked up and read them, but I'm not doing this only as some ploy to sell books.

I'm doing it because I hope you'll come to like my characters as much as I do. Or at least have a few minutes of enjoyment with these little slices of life. Come by weekly, and maybe even let me know what you think.

And if anyone knows of any other authors doing this, let me know.

New Morrigana stories up

Three of them. One short, two long, one of which has violent sex.

The ongoing series is posted on my homepage.

Storyteller

Arena

Satisfaction <--- the sex one

#FridayFlash - Hooking

ch 6, turn, hdc 4

It is like a magic formula, written in short hand. Only those initiated in the craft can understand.

2 sc, 2 hdc, 2 dc, repeat

Only one who practices the craft can understand the madness and the zen. The peaceful repetition. The frenzy of creation. The ultimate beauty of finishing.

6 hdc, ch 2, skip 2, 6 hdc

So much effort needed for one small thing. Hours of blood, sweat, and tears for an item smaller than a baseball. Time lost when having to start over. Frustration when nothing goes right.

dc to end, FO

But ultimate elation when finished. The look of joy on someone's face when gifted with a hand crafted item. Pride in making something unique.

To crochet is to embrace the chaos.

Beginning the edits

I LOVE editing. I really do. It's the fun part, the polish and perfection part. Everything's written and done, I'm just making sure it's ready for your consumption.

One of the biggest edits I have to do is change the time.

Originally, I'd set it at the beginning of August, and the holiday for the title was Lughnasadgh. But I was never really happy with the title, and something just didn't fit right. Even my beta reader agreed.

This weekend, I finally decided to move it back and set it at Midsummer. It suits the theme a bit better, and leaves me room for a better title.

But now I have to go change all these little mentions of time and dates. Like dropping two months from every mention of their relationship. Sigh.

Yet it's going to be fine. It will certainly make sure I've done my math right.