VisDare 18: Inspect

So i’ve skipped a few weeks of VisDare…not really from choice as much as being blocked. But i’m back this week with a new installment, and once again i’m continuing the previous story following Alan and Kimberly. So yeah, this is the fifth installment. 🙂 (part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) There are links to all the previous entries. Coming soon in the next couple weeks I will put up a master post so less clicking…I just didn’t have time to do it this week. So here goes!

 
(As always, click the image to go to Anonymous Legacy and view all the other wonderful entries into Angela’s prompt!)
The two of them leaned with their backs to the railing watching a young father with his kid down the dock with a fresh catch.  Alan turned looking at her hazel eyes and quickly forced a smile before looking out at the water.  The fog had started to burn away and with it the dark water.
“Most guys come into the bar with clear intentions; it’s a game to them.  They stalk the bar, looking for a desirable prey.”  She placed her hand on his, “How long has it been?”
 “Three months.”  Alan paused.  “If I told you I made mistakes, I’m where I’m at by my own faults?”
Kimberly replied.  “We’ve all made mistakes.  What’s important is I can see it, even now you’re thinking of her.”
“For the only time in my life, it made sense.  Everything in my life made sense.  And now she is gone.”

Dirty Goggles: Looking for Inspiration?

So the cat is out of the bag…

The Dirty Goggles Blog Hop!!!

(Don’t own the image)

I’m helping with my first blog hop along side two amazing writers Jenn (Brewed Bohemian) and Ruth (Bullish Ink)!

For those who haven’t seen Jenn’s update (The Big Reveal)!  Here is what is going on.

What:  Flash contest featuring Steampunk or Dieselpunk themes
Hosts:  Ruth, Jenn, & myself.
When:  May 6 – May 12!  We will begin at Midnight Eastern time on the 6th and close up shop at 11:59 pm Pacific time on the 12th.
Hashtag:  #DirtyGoggles
Rules:  You may enter two flash pieces, one for steampunk and one for dieselpunk.  Lenght should be between 500 – 700 words.  Each piece should begin with the following –

Title
Name or Twitter Handle
Category (steam or diesel)
Content label (NSFW, Contains Erotica, Contains Violence, Safe for all, etc.  Mainly, just let us know if your piece has bite or not)

And I’m here to help with some inspiration!

Who likes Pinterest??  Okay…I think everyone does.  We have a group set up full of Steampunk and Dieselpunk images!  Enjoy (just click the image below)!

(Don’t own the image, found on pinterest)
And for you Spotify users!  We have playlists thanks to Jenn, and she did a wonderful job!  
Dirty Goggles – Diesel 

Dirty Goggles – Steam
Enjoy!
I can not wait to read everyone’s entries!

document.write(”);

Mid Week Blues Buster 11

(I took this picture!  So I don’t have to worry about giving anyone but me credit 🙂  But click it anyways and go check out all of the other entries in this weeks Mid Week Blues Buster!)
Dancing Flame
A mean ole bastard…

Gabriella stretched her arms out over her knees watching the dancing flames.  It had been years since she had been home, twenty six, she never thought this day would come.  She had left on bad terms with her father, but then he was not a pleasant person for anyone to be around.  She thought often about the day he caught her with Jacob in the barn.  He nearly beat the boy to death, a local football hero who would never play the game again. He got by with little more than a slap on the wrist after the local police, who he attended church with, learned of his reasons.  It was several weeks later before Gabriella could come up with enough strength of her own to leave her life in Kentucky behind.  An attempt to run away from her nightmares, at eighteen she did not realize they were always there looking back at her in the mirror.
The beating she had gotten because of Jacob was more than she could describe leaving a noticeable scar under her eye but they did not compare to the ones on her back.  It wasn’t the first time he had laid his hands on her.  At fourteen she had come home with a book about Jack the Ripper.  “Blasphemy” he yelled, “there was to be only one book allowed under his roof.”  It was weeks before she returned to school.
                                                      
She watched the flames dancing in the blackness.  She could almost see the figure of a woman one arm outstretched toward the heavens and the other wrapped around her body with a circle of flames at her feet.  She could see her face looking back at her seductively, wanting Gabriella to join her.  She knew who it was calling out to her.  She would never forget those eyes.
Gabriella had just turned nine.  Her mother had been gone almost two years for reasons she still did not understand but had come to suspect her father had murdered her.  She woke to the sound of a woman’s voice.  She still thought to this day it was her Momma trying to warn her, to help her to escape the terrifying life to come.  She thought she felt her warm loving touch on her face but it was only the summer night’s air creeping in through the window.  She sneaked from her bed, through the house but never saw her father.  Outside the house she heard the sounds coming from the garage where her father often repaired vehicles for extra cash.  Slowly she stalked with her bare feet she was only a few steps from the door when she heard his voice, “Cmon.”  Up to the door for a peak, she saw the three women immediately for the moonlight shinning in from the other door.  “You will show me the way,” her father yelled out.  They were bound together, unable to scream with her father circling them much the way she had seen her dog survey a carcass.  “You were delivered to me to show me the way to god.”
Gabriella peered through, her eyes met one of the woman’s and she began to scream even through her covered mouth.  Her father circled back, harshly grabbing her jaw before turning to see what caused a glimmer of hope in the woman’s eyes.  “Mah child,” he laughed.  He would make her watch everything he did that night, a young girl who loved and trusted her father not knowing the evil inside him.
She watched the flames.  Gabriella could no longer fight the tears as they streamed down her face.  She glanced to the bloodied knife in front of her.  She had come home to confront her father.  To right more wrongs than she could ever count.  Most of all she had come home to take revenge on what her father had turned her into. 
At twenty she found herself hitchhiking trying to escape other hard times.  A trucker had stopped to pick her up and tried to take advantage.  She saw what he wanted the moment he opened those doors, stepping inside she knew she was given a purpose in life.
(697 Words)

Mid-Week Blues Buster Week 10

So, it’s been awhile 🙂  And I’m getting this in just before it ends for the week.   Click the picture to check out all of the other entries to this weeks Mid-Week blues Buster.

Cassidy took her friends advice, if she was going to get a true feel for Louisiana she had to spend time in the country.  She needed to get a real idea for her newest horror romance novel about a Were-Panther and his bride to be.  She knew more than most living in Atlanta, but born in the country, there was more to life than what was seen in the cities.  She wanted to see the real flavor of the Cajun atmosphere.
The young man who had told her about the ball seemed charming enough with his deep dark brown eyes.  She was quick to take notes on his odd pupils when she was back in her car, they were odd in a way she would spend a lot of time describing them in her next novel.  They were perfect for her lead. 
She had searched for the Voodoo Eclipse on the web and knew immediately it was something she wanted to experience.  Once a month on the full moon the club would host a swinging dance, costumes of many varieties and she could only imagine what would happen when the moon was high and the patrons were as well.
It was harder for her to find something to wear.  She couldn’t just stroll into the club with her hair back in a ponytail with t-shirt and jeans.  She didn’t want to stand out having seen the pictures posted on the website.  Something she couldn’t help but smile about, there was a map to the club as they made it clear most gps would only get her lost.
The thrift shop she found was a blessing, mostly for the long flowing white dress, it was a size too big and longer than she wanted.  A quick trim with scissors took care of the length and a couple well placed over sized belts fixed the rest of her look.  She was lucky, she had packed her favorite boots and though they looked out of place with most outfits but with stocking and the dress she felt happy as she peered in the mirror.
“This isn’t real…”
She felt like she had stepped into the pages of a novel, the front yard had two large full willow trees.  The club itself looked like an old plantation home, lights strung across the porch and into the yard making a walkway.  She crossed the yard and as she walked up the screaming steps the man appeared from the shadows.  She had not seen him before but he startled her as she reached the top.  He never said a word or even looked her in the eye as he opened the door.
Cassidy was just as shocked by the inside, the long stairway just inside the front door but to its left was a dance floor filled with dancers.  She couldn’t contain her amusement, mouth open there was a band across the room on a small stage jumping and dancing and having a good time.  She could barely make out the music all her senses were on fire one after another grabbed at her demanding attention.  She could smell the sweet candles as they hung high but she couldn’t identify the scents but it was not long before she again found herself starring.  The women in their sleek dresses swinging with their partners in their pressed clothing and none of them gave her even a glance as she circled about the room.  She had finally closed her mouth but forcefully held there as she could not stop biting her lower lip.  With each step she felt her heart in her throat.  It was magnificent.
He stepped into her path, leaning on his cane she slowly looked up into his eyes.  He was much taller than her, frighteningly so.  But the eyes were familiar and she knew them immediately.  Though he was much older than the boy who had told her about the club the odd pupils were distinctive.  He starred down into her and he smiled showing his enlarged canines.  She felt her heart stop in the fright of the moment, she felt as if she had stepped into another world.  

Let’s talk about Werewolves!

Let’s talk about Werewolves! 
Today I threw myself back into editing Howling Moon. I haven’t made any progress really since I got feedback from my beta and realized I was going to have to go all the way back over the novel again.  We all know I hate editing right?  Right???  This will be the third time since the first of December I’ve gone over this manuscript and I realize now I probably should have gotten someone else to look at it after I went over it the first time.  Okay, I did want to ask someone…and tried throwing the hint out there but was afraid to ask that person.  Because after my first go over I knew at least it was complete with no gaping holes in the story.  Though saying that there has been some stuff I’m going to change as I’m going over it this time and fix the couple problems I have with the story.  Okay, not problems as much as a couple nitpicks I have with the final five chapters of the book.  After all, I have to be 100% satisfied with it or I will always have these nerves about others reading it.  And why should anyone else like it if I still have those doubts. 
Okay, this topic isn’t about my novel as much as I’m seeking opinions.  Opinions on types of werewolves.  It isn’t going to sway my opinion or even the type of Were which is in Howling Moon.  That is set in stone, err, on paper anyways.  I’m just more curious to see who prefers what types…
Type One:  The Wolfman –  the most classic but also probably the least used.
(Picture is from 2009’s The Wolfman, don’t own the picture)
Type Two:  The Hybrid – And I’ll admit, this one has always been my favorite.  And it’s the one I’m most familiar with.  Prime examples such as Underworld, The Howling, Bad Moon, Silver Bullet, Dog Soldiers, etc.
(From 2002’s Dog Soldiers, don’t own the picture)
Type Three (and my least favorite):  The wolf – The version of the werewolf which is most popular now days…  Examples – Twilight, True Blood, even the new Hemlock Grove on Netflix. 
(From HBO’s True Blood, don’t own the picture)
I know there are other types, Ginger Snaps I’m looking at you…
Another question, favorite werewolf movie?
And for anyone interested…sometime this summer I will have a blog begging for betas for this novel…  Just have to wait and see (that is if I get through this edit, 🙂 )  And if you are curious about more information on this story, check this blog entry out:  Be Inspired Blog Hop:  Howling Moon

Dark Fairy Queen Writerly Bridal Shower – With a Kiss

I’d like to Congratulate my dear friend Anna and her future husband Micheal on their coming nuptials   I wish you the best and all the happiness in the world!

Title:  With a Kiss
Author:  Steven Paul Watson
Ebook: Yes

“I do not believe she is coming my lord.”
Prince Elijah had counted to thirteen when the sound of the stone bouncing off of other hard surfaces followed by the faint sound of water reached him.  He glanced out to the distant horizon, the ocean drowned in the orange and reds of the setting sun.  He knew it would not be long, “She will be here.”
“And if she does not show?”
“All that awaits us is fire and death if I am wrong.  With it my father’s best laid plans.” Elijah missed his mail and boiled leathers, the silk and cotton attire he now wore felt unnatural.  Most of all he missed his sword.
“The coming winter will cause pause, if the wedding does not occur then the storms may allow additional negotiations,” the guardsman stated. 
“We hold numbers over them,” a second guardsman stated.
“Numbers are not an advantage in this campaign.  There is no mistake at wars end whose blood will boil and lands will be fertilized with the deceased,” he turned.  The other men were dressed in their plate and mail armor with horses at their sides.
“If your father heard you speak in such a manner…” the second guardsman spoke swiftly.
“I have many times over, and he always neglected my advice until now,” Elijah smiled.
“Why are you so confident my prince, why do you believe she will come and honor the arrangement?” the first guardsman questioned.
“I was still a boy in every way but age when I first met Princess Elisha.  The moment I saw her, my life was changed forever.  My heart beat in a way it had never before and has not since.  Only a few years younger than me, bluest of eyes and brightest of smile more beautiful than anything I had seen.  I believe she will come because I asked.”
“And if she does not?” the second guardsman tone remained cynical.
He picked another stone from the ground giving a last fleeting look at the sun now closing on the black waters.  It was a chance for him to gather his thoughts before he answered, “Then I will know I tried.  That is all I can ask of myself, for once I did what for so long I let fear stop.”  He twirled the rock around his fingers, “If she does not show I will be no more important than this stone lost in the pit of rocks and water below.  Without her there is no meaning to life.  I have known this much since that warm spring day with a kiss on my cheek.  I did not volunteer my life to wed merely to stop a war.”
He released the rock and again counted but lost his concentration for the loud commotion behind him.  He turned in time to see five dragons of variant colors land.
Elijah could not hide his smile as he watched her dismount her dragon with its green vibrant scales.  She pushed the short strawberry blond hair from her eyes as she approached.  She still wore the armor of war, stained with the blood of his brethren from battles of the past weeks.  Her sword hung to her hip, but none drew his gaze from her eyes as she approached.  Her lips, a light shade of blue, curved in a mischievous grin.    
“The sun is nearly set, Princess Elisha.” 
“I am never late, my husband to be.  This you will learn in time.”
He stepped closer running a hand down the side of her face until it rested under her chin and they shared a smile.  He leaned in for a kiss but she pulled away not allowing their lips to meet.  He knew then, just as before she had all the control.  She closed the distance and kissed him.  The crowd cheered, dragons roared but he heard none of it over his own beating heart.  With a kiss a kingdoms fate was sealed, most of all the emptiness in his heart was gone.

((PS:  After multiple attempts of trying to get the inlinkz tool to work I gave, be sure to go check out all the fabulous writers who are contributing to the Dark Fairy Queen Writerly Bridal Shower!)

VisDare 14: Normalcy

HA!  I actually did not think I would do this weeks VisDare…I had made a promise to myself for at least a few weeks I would continue to write my entries connecting them one entry to the next…  Until I saw this weeks picture and the first thought I had was how the heck am I going to do this….

(As always click on the picture to go to Anyonymous Legacy and check out all the other entries to this weeks VisDare!!!)
Previous entries (you really do need to go read them first I think…)  Whorl (part one), Waiting (part two), Atmospheric (part three)!

“Why?”
He knew it was a simple question without a simple answer, her lips parted to speak with a pause.
“My grandmother raised me, small town far from here.  Very conservative and anyone different was labeled so.  Every Saturday we would go to the farmer’s market she would always wear this old dress, complete with pearls, bracelets, and hat.  What always caught the most attention was Baxter, her pet duck, always at her side on a leash.  I loved those Saturday afternoon walks it wasn’t until years later I could recall the looks and whispers.  The idea my grandmother wasn’t quite all there.”   He watched her lean against the rail, “you were so out of place last night in the bar, and when you left you reminded me of her an odd duck not knowing he needed someone, a friend to look out for him.”
(145 Words)

VisDare: Atmospheric

My hat goes off to all those people who do VisDare week in and week out with the same story…  It’s not as easy as it looks and it took me multiple attempts to come up with one this week to continue the story from the last two weeks.  Whorl (part 1) –  Waiting (part 2)

So, yeah, if you haven’t read my last two visdare’s you will probably want to read them before this one.  🙂

(Click the picture to go to Angela’s page and check out all the other entries to this weeks VisDAre!!  I Dare you!  go for it, some great reading there!)
He knew the water was there hidden by the fog, he could imagine hands reaching up through the bleak shadows wanting to pull him down.
“Thought I would find you here.”
He turned.  He had left the bar at last call and was surprised, they had talked most of the night but he never thought he would see her again.  “How?”  She pulled the bonnet down covering her multicolored hair, “you said this was your spot, where you came to clear your head when the thoughts became too overwhelming.”
“I haven’t been home.”
“I would think not,” she leaned against the rail beside him, “It’s beautiful, the smell…okay the smell isn’t that much better than the bar but still beautiful.”
He never saw it the night before but now in the morning light, through his own sleepless haze he noticed her smile for the first time.  “I’m Alan.”
“Kimberly.” 
(149 Words)

VisDare 12: Waiting

This weeks VisDare is a continuation from last weeks, Whorl!  So I think you should read it before this one…

(Click the image to check out all the other entries to this weeks VisDare!)
She knew his smile was fake, “do you love her?”
“Does it matter?”    
“Love is all that matters.”
“Only when they love you back.”
“And she doesn’t, is that the answer you’re looking for?”
“Once maybe, how do you forget someone you wanted to share every good, bad, and weird thought with?  Even found myself in a church looking for answers and only empty voices talked down on me.”
She refilled the barely touched beer and one of her own.  “You never do.  They are a part of you, in the grand scheme of our story.  There are people who even if they don’t know it, we still wake in the middle of the night with their voice whispering in our ear and the taste of their breath on our lips.  And we wait, years sometimes, even when we know nothings coming.”  She raised her glass in a toast.  

(149 Words)

VisDare 11: Whorl

(Click the picture to check out all the other entries to this weeks Visual Dare!)

           “Been sitting there almost two hours and you’ve barely touched your drink.”

Everything was distorted.  His head on the bar he looked through the glass of beer only inches away.  “I’m lost in my thoughts, stuck really.”  He lifted his head pulling the drink around in front of him and everything was still out of focus.  The bar tender was his type, at least a half dozen noticeable tattoos and her short multi-colored hair pulled back into a pony tail showing the half dozen piercings in her two ears and her lip.  But he had barely noticed her.
“Get lost there a lot do you?”
“It’s a cloudy, confusing place,” he took a drink of his beer; he hated the taste but hoped it would give him an ounce of courage.  “I have all the answers but not the right one.”
“It’s a girl?”
He smiled, “it’s always a girl.”
(150 words)