Fiction Friday Week 28

Good afternoon!

I am nearing the end of the third edit of HW2 and I thought I’d share a little bit of it with you.  

This chapter of the book has the Four Claw Pack plotting to overthrow Prince Skeena, the vampire ruler of Glasgow.  Skeena is a bitch.  I’ve mentioned that in the blog before, I think. *laughs*

This bit here demonstrates that quite well.  

It also, perhaps, suggests that I’m a little bit twisted.  A little.  

Mostly though, Skeena’s a sadistic bitch.  

I am off to explore some things I’m excited about.



Skeena realized something was up when her food began to disappear.  They stopped kowtowing and started standing straighter just before they started refusing to come when summoned.  She called Sarah to her rooms. 

“Yes, my Prince?”  Sarah was a consummate actress.  She knew what was coming but she worked damn hard to make sure it never showed in her eyes or attitude.

“Why are the dogs and cats suddenly refusing to feed me?”

Fuck! thought Sarah.  Idiots!  Outwardly she shrugged.  “I have no idea, my Prince.  Perhaps the ones you have summoned do not have the blood to give and need fed and some rest?”  As soon as the question was out of her mouth she wanted to snatch it out of the air.  It was openly critical, not something the other took too well.

Skeena was on her in a flash.  She slammed Sarah against the wall, one hand on her throat, crushing her windpipe.  Snarling and ever paranoid, Skeena searched Sarah’s eyes.  “You have always been loyal to me, Sarah MacLean.  Do not make any mistakes now.”

Sarah was unable to keep the hatred out of her eyes and what was left of her voice.  “Your end is coming, you controlling cow.  Did you really think you could act this way forever?”  Her words were hoarse and nearly silent but she knew the Prince heard her well.

“Only one person has the ability to pull off a coup with any remote chance of success, my friend,” Skeena sneered the last word, “and that is you.”  Skeena released Sarah’s throat and Sarah dropped to her knees, coughing. 

Sarah struggled to get her breathing back in working order.  In the next moment she yelped in pain as Skeena’s foot connected with her spleen then her ribs.  Still, her ire was enough to make her grind out one last sentence.  “You’ll be ash before the night is out.  I pray I get the chance to do it myself.”

Skeena’s foot connected with Sarah’s jaw and as Sarah lay there, fighting the blackness threatening to take over her mind Skeena yelled for her guards.  Two entered the room, one loyal to the bone to the Prince and the other loyal to Sarah.  They both showed surprise at seeing Sarah on the floor, spitting out blood.  “Take this cunt down to my dungeon!  I’ll be done as soon as I change my clothes.”  Skeena paused.  “Wait!  Parade the traitor through the house first.  Let her be a warning”.

The guard loyal to Sarah reached her first and, with an internal wince, wrapped his fingers in her hair to pull her upright.  As Sarah’s hands flew up to grab his wrist he adjusted his grip so it only looked like he was pulling her solely by her hair.  Sarah’s grip on his wrist made her able to help him maintain the illusion.  Guard two, satisfied the first had things properly in hand, merely opened the door.  Neither of them said anything to the Prince, conditioned long ago never to speak in her presence.  She had said that didn’t want to hear voices of the peons in her home.

The two dragged Sarah through a series of corridors, past Wolves, a couple of Tigers and one Lion, they all looked on with wide eyes. More gathered to stare in shock as the guards took Sarah on a return trip.  One of the Tigers then discretely withdrew to find a phone.  She called Glynnis and relayed what she saw.

Finally, the guards came back to Skeena’s room.  Guard two moved a large trunk and pulled back a rug.  Hidden below the furnishings was a large trap door.  Guard Two opened it and Guard One, Jake, dragged Sarah down by her hair.

 In the dungeon, Sarah was strung up.  She was manacled wrist and ankle by Jake then Guard Two turned a crank set into the stone wall and Sarah’s arms were lifted above her head and stretched just to the point of pain, until she was standing on the tips of her toes.  Her clothes were cut from her by Jake, who did his best to convey that someone would save her without letting the other guard see it.  Sarah took a breath and sighed softly as she let her head droop.  Her hair fell forward to curtain her face and she mouthed, “It’s okay” at Jake.

He turned to Guard Two.  “She’s set, go let the Prince know.”

“She doesn’t want to hear from us.  She said she’d be down in a moment, we’ll leave it at that.”  He sneered at Jake like he knew that Jake’s loyalties were not quite where they should be.  Just then the door opened and both their mouths snapped shut.

Skeena was wearing a blood red gi and carrying a wooden case about thirty-two inches long by six wide.  She looked around the room.  There were a couple of small tables, one beside what looked like a dentist’s chair and one beside a four foot high stone altar.  “Move a table to sit in front of her.”

As Guard Two did her bidding Skeena shifted the case to under one arm and moved to a glass fronted cabinet with interior recessed lights.  Inside was a shelf of knives.  Curved ones, long ones, short ones, wide ones, narrow filleting ones.  There were double-edged and single-edged; ones for hunting, gutting, skinning and survival.  Skeena picked up one that sat alone under its own spotlight.

The Prince brought the knife and case over to the table and set them both down.  She opened the case, pulled out a cat-o’-nine whip and showed it to Skeena with a grin.  “It’s been a long time since I used this.”  She lifted the tails to Sarah’s line of vision.  Sarah was staring at the wall across from her but Skeena managed to make her focus for a brief moment on the whip.  Skeena cackled when Sarah shuddered.  The flogger was thirty inches long, six inches of that were simply the handle; the other twenty-four inches was comprised of the thin leather falls, also known as tails.

Each of the nine tails had pieces of razor sharp bone tied into it in random places, two to four pieces per tail.  The thing was designed not only to have a hell of an impact but to shred flesh.  And the Prince was planning on using it on Sarah.

“It’s lovely, isn’t it?”  Skeena waited for an answer.  When none was forthcoming, she slapped Sarah across the facing, leaving a bright red imprint of her hand.  “It’s lovely.  Isn’t it.”

“Quite.  You really should feel it for yourself before you use it on anyone else.”  Sarah’s voice was hard.

Skeena was amused.  “But first, we’re going to indulge ourselves in a little blade play.  Playing with knives is so much fun, don’t you think?”

Sarah shrugged as best she could with her arms stretched over her head.  She liked to play a little rough in the bedroom – she liked her ass slapped when being fucked from behind or her nipples pinched hard.  Sometimes she liked having her mouth used without her having any control over it.  She liked teeth.  A lot.  But she did not hold with the level of Sadomasochism Skeena did.  Especially since a lot of the masochists Skeena played with were involuntary.  Skeena was starting to scare her but she was determined not to let it show.

Skeena laid the flogger down and picked up the knife.  It had a four inch handle with a double-sided grip.  The blade was nine inches long.  One side was a smooth, sharp edge.  It was straight until an inch or so to the tip where it swooped up.  The opposite side had a small scoop in it then a serrated edge started.  The blade was custom and Skeena had had the edge cut like a saw blade.  A saw’s cutting edge is set so that the teeth are set just off centre, alternating left and right.  She kept both edges sharp enough to slice a piece of paper, were one dropped onto it.

Sarah knew that blade.  She had seen what it could do and for the first time, fear crept into her eyes.

“Oh good,” Skeena drawled as she looked at Sarah.  “You remember this knife.  We’re going to play with it.”  She set the smooth edge against Sarah’s ribs, just under her arm and applied a small bit of pressure until the knife popped through the first layer of skin.  She pressed a little harder and drew the knife around to under Sarah’s breast in a wide arc.  Then, before Sarah could begin to feel the delayed pain such a sharp knife creates, Skeena flipped the knife around and dug the serrated edge into the new cut. 

Skeena sawed at the cut, tearing the edges of the flesh and digging until she hit bone.  She followed the new cut all the way around. 

Sarah ground her teeth together and clenched her fists.  It took all her willpower not to scream out. 

Skeena saw that as a challenge.

P.S  Apparently there’s a reason I do at least three edits.  I found the word ‘watching’ where it should have said ‘wanting’!

The Eyes Have It

Hello!  Happy Saturday!

I had planned on showing you the pretty things in my life, the flora, however, something else came up.  

My inspiration for these photos came to me in the blink of an eye.

My inspiration for these photos came to me in the blink of an eye.


Let’s face it, anyone who knows my blog knows that I’m addicted to nature photos.  I love the blooms, the riot of colour, the shapes and details at each phase of growth.  I am editing some sixty pictures for you.  

I will be nice and not bore you to death with 60 flower photos though. *laughs*  I will only share my favourites.

But last night I was getting ready for bed and noticed that my eyes were approximately four different colours.  That led me to wanting to see if I could capture it and THAT led The Boyfriend to wanting to photograph his eye too (seen above at its creepiest).  

My first attempt at trying to take a picture of my own eye ended up like this:

I did crop it some.

I did crop it some.


As you can see, I’m not exactly looking at the camera.  I tried to do some colour adjustments to get my iris to show its colours but the lighting in the bathroom was hard to work with.  You can see what I meant about the colour though.

So, because the angle was wrong, (and it wasn’t as close as I wanted before), I tried again.

Caught it this time!

Caught it this time!


Bam!  Look at the colours! The white lights are the bathroom lights, forgot to account for them in the angles.  They did allow me to get the colours though.  

Eyes are absolutely amazing in their colour variations.  You can have brown eyes that are the colour of milk chocolate, or dark chocolate, or so dark a brown they’re almost black.  Sixteen shades of blue, fourteen shades of green.  You can have eyes with several colours in them at once or eyes that change colour (like mine).  

Peter’s eyes are blue.  They’re an amazing blue, I like them a great deal.  But! He has blue tinted contacts, tinted so that he can see them if they go in the wrong place on his eyes.  He says they can be tinted any colour, just his are blue because his eyes are blue.

With the blue contact.

With the blue contact.


Even with not being able to adjust the colour properly (the lighting made the picture come out tinted yellow) you can see the depth of blue the contact creates.  His eyes are the thing I was attracted to first.

Without the contact.

Without the contact.

And without the contact they’re more like denim blue.  And you can see the starburst is more pronounced.  

His eyes have a wealth of history in them.  They often hold humour and affection for the people around him.  They are full of life and surrounded by the evidence that he has lived.  (And, by the way, he is seventeen years older than me.  It doesn’t make a whit of difference, generally.)

The next time you look in the mirror, see what you can see in your peepers.  What colour are they?  How many shades of that colour are in them?  Do they tell your story?

I hope mine tell people that I’m a survivor, full of humour and affection, and that they hint at the wealth of stories in my head.

I want to hear what you see!

Have a great weekend.


PS  The eyes will follow you wherever you go!  Just ask Tee. 😉

Fiction Friday Week 27


Yes, I’m aware it’s Saturday again.  Maybe I should call it “The Saturday Segment” today.  

hmm… I like that idea. 

Saturday Segment


I really do need to get back into the habit of blogging, eh?  I shall endeavour to do so, maybe by taking a page from Kim Harrison’s blogging behaviour.  She blogs nearly every day about this and that.  I haven’t done a lot of writing recently but I have done quite a bit of photography.  I have one especially spectacular photo I will share with you.

Astoundingly beautiful, isn't it?

Astoundingly beautiful, isn’t it?  (click on it! Worth it, I promise)


I have been doing well with the photography but not so well with the editing. 

Speaking of editing, we have come around to the subject of today’s blog: Demon Plague, book two of the Highland Wolves Series.

(burnt my hand making dinner, pardon any mistakes)

I am on chapter two, when the first demon attacks.  I thought I’d share that with you.  And, because of the above mentioned burn – three fingers, part of my palm and part of my thumb – I’m going to cut this short.  

Have a great rest of your weekend (a long one for at least  most of Canada!).


Chapter Two


By tea time, the Wolves were packed and ready to go.  A few would be staying to watch over the den, half of those going would be traveling up and around the Isle of Skye, lining the borders of the Skye Pack land, just in case.  They’d left two hours before and would lay low and wait for word.  If the Alpha didn’t check in with the remaining Delta, the pack would move in, capturing any Skye Wolves they found. 

The other half would be riding with the Alphas and Beta, the Gamma included.  It seemed foolhardy to have the top echelon of the Pack in one vehicle but there was strategy to be discussed.  Hopefully they’d manage it while still in Pack or ally territory but perhaps not.  If they managed it, the four would be spread out a bit more.  If not, the convoy would ride more tightly.  Several Wolves on motorcycles ranged around the car with the top four, watching their surroundings. 

They took the A82 out of town, heading northwest.  It took them until they had almost reached Loch Lomond to finalize their plans.  Anna was looking out the window and really wanted to touch the beautiful countryside.  “Can we have a rest stop, please?  I need to…” she gestured helplessly, “…touch it.” 

Liam chuckled and nodded.  He drove another twenty minutes before finding the perfect spot.  He pulled the car in at a small rest area north of Blairannaich.  The cars and bikes pulled in and the pack poured into the surrounding trees and nearby strip of beach, stretching with happy groans.  Someone shouted, “Hey Alpha!  Wolves aren’t meant to be trapped inside metal dragons!” 

Laughter followed the comment and Liam shouted back, “When you Wolves learn how to fly, we’ll do that.  This is only a ten minute break people, enjoy it.”  He pulled Anna into his arms and kissed her senseless.  “I’ve missed you.”

She laughed.  “We’ve been sitting side by side for hours, Wolfman.”

“Oh aye, but I cannae do this while driving.”  His brogue was thick, voice rough with need.  He nibbled her lower lip and down her throat, watching the colours that flowed under her skin following the path of his kisses.  He kept nibbling until a throat clearing nearby interrupted him.  He growled in annoyance.  “What!”

Marcus grinned unrepentantly.  “You are in public and she’s starting to kind of glow.”

Anna blushed and Marcus grinned more broadly.  She had opened her mouth to retort, one hand covering her throat to hide the colours she could feel swirling, when a scream ripped through the air.  The three of them whipped around towards the water in time to see a Mu level Wolf named Lily get plucked off the small boulder she’d been standing on.

The girl was lifted into the air by a huge monstrosity.  It was a being made entirely of water formed into a loose humanoid shape.  It reminded Anna of the Golgothan in Dogma and she cursed under her breath.  She took off running towards the screaming girl.  As Anna closed in, shoving her way through the stunned Pack members who stood there staring as more arms flowed out of the body and grasped the still shrieking girl by each limb and around her neck.

Anna stood on the shore and shouted up at it, “Ninjutsu!  Let the girl go!”

A loud watery laugh answered her.  “Spawn of Cain; do you think you can stop me?  You wish me to let her go?  So be it!”  The demon pulled and the screaming stopped abruptly as the girl’s head popped off and the limbs tore free of the torso with a wet sucking sound.  The demon threw the bits and pieces at the pack, scattering the Wolves.

It laughed again, big belly laughs, as Anna turned to the pack and screamed at them all to get as far away from the water as possible.  “Cain’s pubic louse!  I will leave the rest alone if you will give yourself to me.”

“You lie, you filthy Utukku Limnuti,” Anna said scornfully.  “Do you not think that I have dealt with Demons long enough to know that they never tell the simple truth?  There is no mercy in you.”  She planted her feet in the pebbled shore and lifted her hands over her head, palms facing each other.  She began to chant in a long forgotten language as she cast her mind around for the name of the God whose help she needed.  Power formed between her hands, a glowing ball of blue and purple fire.  Finally, the name of a long forgotten a Sumerian God popped into her head.

“Pazuzu!  Please help rid us of this monster!”

The demon flinched at the name but covered its fear up by growing bigger.  It roared at Anna and reached for her. 

Anna threw the ball of fire and the demon hissed in pain and fury as a piece of it turned to steam.  She took advantage of the momentary weakness and chanted quickly in Sumerian, the ancient words rolling off her tongue, each one laced with power.  She threw another ball of fire at it and called on Pazuzu once more.  “Pazuzu aid your children!  Save them from this filth!”  A column off fire grew around her, snaking from her to the Utukku Limnuti.

Water shimmered and shook as Anna’s power began to wrap around the demon like glowing chains.  It chortled, amused, and grabbed the chains to pull her towards it.  It screamed as the fire superheated its fingers until they were nothing but steam. 

Anna smirked.  “Did you really think I’d make it that easy?”

The Utukku shrank a little as it reformed the vaporized hands.  Uma Thurman’s voice came out of its throat as it said, “You know, for a second there, I really did.”

“Oh good grief, you’re quoting movies?  Learn to speak for yourself.”  Anna rolled her eyes and tightened the chains, wrapping more and more around the Utukku Limnuti, overlapping them until there was barely a hairsbreadth of space between lengths of links.  The pack watched as Anna started to glow.  A moment later the chain links began to brighten and then the Wolves had to slap their hands over their eyes and turn away as Anna and the chain links burst into blinding white hot flames.  They dove for cover as steam exploded outward.

“You’ll not succeed!  You will die!  My Master will send more after you.”  The disembodied voice floated around Anna before moving off.  “You are dead!  You and your little dog too!”

“Good Gods!  Could you pick an older movie?”  Anna shouted at it.  “And tell your Master I’ll not go down without a fight.  Tell him to face me himself.”

There was no answer.  Anna’s fury kept the fire around her for several long moments as she waited, watching for more.  The presence felt gone but demons were tricky and she was paranoid.  The fire did not begin to dim until the pack had crept out of their hiding places and surrounded her with her Mate in front of her. 

Liam looked at her black eyes and wondered if she’d need to Feed again.  He put his hand near her face, enduring the heat of the fire to stroke her hair until she looked at him.  His skin blistered and burned, it was agonizing but he persisted.  Part of him wondered at it since her fire had never hurt him before.  Most of him didn’t care about it, he just wanted her back.  “Anna.  Anna love, come back to me.” 

The smell of burning flesh reached through Anna’s paranoia and watchfulness, breaking her focus, and she turned startled eyes to Liam, the black washing out.  The fire dropped in a wink and she grabbed his wrist.  “Liam!  What did you do?”

“Are we safe?  Can we continue on now?”  Liam ignored the screaming pain in his hand long enough to be sure his people were safe.

Anna nodded even as she pulled from the nature around her and bathed his hand in healing blue light.  She repaired the nerves.  Then she closed up the wounds and formed new flesh.  Kissing the palm, she let Liam take his hand back only when she was done with it.  “Yes, my love, we can move on.”

Marcus caught her as she fainted and lifted her into his arms.  He stood, waiting for his Alpha as Liam looked at his hand, pink and shiny, and sighed.  Being with his she-Wolf was going to cost far more than a pound of flesh.  However, he’d known going in that being her Mate would be difficult and probably lead to a shorter lifespan – for him and others.  He hoped that he was strong enough to stay with her until her end came.

He had no idea just how close Anna’s end really was.