Changes!

Hello!  

How are you?

I am doing better since my last post.  

I came through Term 1 with a 4.0 average and I look to be going that way again this term.  Mid-term grades come out next week, just before Reading Week.  I don’t know what I will do for reading week, I do know I will not be making a trip.  

Perhaps, just perhaps, I work on some research for these changes I’m about to show you.  

In Demon Plague, HW2, there came a visitor to the pack home, a large African Jaguar shifter by the name of Sentwali.  He wanted Anna, Liam and company to go to the Congo to save them from a witch stealing their shifter magic.  Anna and Liam agreed, though they stated they couldn’t go until after they’d helped find justice for those massacred at Glen Coe so many years ago.

I was struggling with the research because there is little available (that isn’t government or scholastic) information that would help me gain a feel for what it’s like to be in the jungle and on the waterways that run through it.  I was determined but it still wasn’t happening.  

I argued with myself for months about making Sentwali  from somewhere else.  I didn’t want to change the book, especially one that’s been published.

Now, I have to say a couple things:

  1. If you purchased the book already, the copy you have is now special.  Out of print.  
  2. I am much more excited about HW4 now.

Sentwali is now Damir, a Sabre Tooth Tiger shifter from Belarus.  The premise remains but the locale differs.  He’s still a large man, but almost as pale as Sentwali was dark.  

The new edition has gone out on Kindle and Createspace and will be available in print on Amazon in the next few days. 

I am satisfied with the arrangement and more eager to begin the research.  It’d be cool if I could go to Belarus to do the research (a terrifying prospect for the Congo!).  A brief search already yeilded much in the way of visuals and links to locations.  Maybe I will narrow down which part of Belarus he is from while on my short break from school.

There you go!

Today, it is hovering just around freezing.  We’ve had freezing rain, snow, wet snow and general dampness.  I saw some photo ops and went to see if I could manage any decent ones.  I did get the most perfect shot.  I am going to share it with you.  

I have to go.  Have a wonderful week!  And remember that Valentines Day isn’t just about your romantic partner, it’s about the people you love.  All of them.  

Muah!

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Good Riddance 2016

Hello!

I know it’s been quite a while, again, but school has taken dominion over all else.  I want to discuss the year with you though.  It’s been…bi-polar at best.  Wild swings up and down.  

There have been 130+ worldwide celebrity deaths.  The American battle for president was between H. Clinton and Trump and Trump won.  I don’t care to follow politics but what the fuck was America thinking? 

None of that affects me personally though. I know what’s going on, for the most part, but my concern is my family, immediate and extended.  And we have had some pretty major events.  Here are some of them…

The Ups:

I published Highland Wolves 2.  I will be making a change to it though, one that has a major impact on book 4.  If you have a copy of the current one, it will become special in the next few days. I will keep you appraised. 

The government finally agreed that yes, I am fucking disabled and they should help me. 

That enabled me to go back to school.  I got through the first half of term one (I can only deal with 3 courses at once, not six, so I am doing half a term at a time) with a 4.0 GPA.  I start the second half of term one on the 4th.

Girlkid got accepted to the equestrian program at the University of Guelph, one of the top schools in North America and one with a world reknown reputation for vetrinary care training.  It is the only school on this continent or in the UK that offers her the science and other types of training that she wants to get her on the career path she dreams of.  

Boykid has the love of his life with him again.  

I am able to do yoga regularly and enjoyed a small remission in some of my symptoms.

The Lows:

Boykid was assaulted in September and he took the assault in order to protect his girlfriend.  Now he’s dealing with PTSD.  

My health has not changed, despite the remission.  I got bonchitis right before Christmas, capping off a flare in symptoms that started in September.  

My maternal grandmother died on Christmas day.  

Four days later… I don’t know that I should talk about this but…Well, I’m sitting here fighting tears so I will talk about it.  Damn those who would keep me silent.

Normally, I wouldn’t bring up something so personal but this is important.  It has lessons that I hope will help others. 

Wolfman has suffered from depression for years, and had some major ups and downs.  This year he had a couple of major blows that I won’t talk about here.  He took some time for himself to try and get it together.  It didn’t seem to help.  

Then I made a catastrophic mistake and he felt like I betrayed him.  Part of it was that I didn’t listen to him enough.  I didn’t close my mouth and stop telling him what he should do enough.  I didn’t stop trying to impose my will on his depression.  I can see that now.

I love him, I have forever and I will forever.  I only want to see him better and happy.  

It’s not my job to do anything but listen to him.  I should have shut up.  I know that what he did is on him but I can’t help but shoulder some of the blame.  

On the 29th (Girlkid’s 17th birthday), Wolfman made a very good attempt at suicide.  He was found by his family and his sister told me what happened.  She promised me that she’d tell me if he didn’t make it.  She blames me, blames all of us connected to him, but told me I deserve to know.

I went to bed, exhausted by my tears and fear, and was terrified to check my messages in the morning.   Since there was nothing, I’m assuming he still lives.  And I’m assuming he’s getting the help he needs.

And part of that is me separating myself from him and giving him time. If he’s ever ready to talk to me again, I’ll be here.  Still loving him.  

The reason I wanted to talk to you about this, on the final day of 2016, is this:

If you know someone suffering from mental illness then shut up and listen.  Close your mouth and open your ears.  Support, don’t dictate.  Help however they need you to; if that means listening, listen.  If that means sitting there with them silently, do that.  If it means helping them remember to take their medications or make their appointments (and they’ve asked for help), do it.

But for Gods’ sake, stop telling them what you think is best.  Step in if there’s a danger but mostly, your job is to support, listen, love.  That’s it.  

I pray that 2017 gives him time to heal and helps him find some peace, even if it’s without me.

And I pray that 2017 is a much better year for everyone.  I pray for those who lost loved ones.  

For me, changes are coming.  A move.  More school.  A shift in how I treat myself.  I have plans.  Dreams.  Goals.  And I will follow them through.  

I am posting this unedited.  I can’t bear to read what he did again.  My pain is for him, for me, for his daughters.  It’s about loss, fear, the thought of what was almost permanently gone.  I am heartbroken but there is a kernel of hope because Wolfman is one of the strongest people I know.  If he comes back to me, I will welcome him with open arms and beg forgiveness.  If he doesn’t, well, that’s what’s best for him.  

Much love and light to you and yours, dear readers.  Have a wonderful new year.

And Henry… If you’re reading this, I’ve need of you.  You know how to find me.

Demon Plague is LIVE!

Good morning, folks!

I am pleased to bring you the second book in my Highland Wolves series:

Demon Plague

Just look at the cover!

HW2 book cover copy 2.jpg

I know the back is a tad difficult to read but it is readable.

Isn’t it gorgeous?  I love having vibrant, compelling covers.

I say that with zero modesty and a whack of pride.  I spent hours on it a few days ago.   Cried over it even.  

I have to tell you, even though I publish through Amazon/Kindle it is so exciting to see my books available for public consumption!

It’s a lot of hard work to get them there.  The research, planning, character development, writing, editing, editing, editing, editingformatting, cover planning and development.  I could hire someone to do the cover, I suppose, but I like seeing it come together.  

Just in the writing, it’s a huge relief to write THE END at the end of the document.  It’s a milestone but now, to see it for sale (and soon to see it in print), it’s breathtaking.  

Sure, a traditional publisher picking up my books would be wonderful, (or heartstopping) but for now, I will continue to do it this way.

You can see HW2 in print here and on Kindle here.

I hope you enjoy them!  If you missed the 5 day promotion in which HW1 and Lizendale were free on Kindle I’m so sorry but you’ll have to purchase them now.  😉   Both books are also in print, of course, (Highland Wolves 1 can be found in print by clicking on “See all formats” or by clicking here).

You can look at all my books on my Amazon Author page.  

What’s next?

Next, I will be diving into the research for HW4 and I will be editing A Year in the Life of S. Claus.  I am seriously considering submitting it for publishing at Sterling and Stone because of a little book I read put out by them called SANTA: EXPOSED by Guy incognito.  There was a line in the book saying “what if Santa has deals with all the toy companies al over the world?” and it made me want to give them Ari.  First though, it needs at least one run through.

I will begin plotting for NaNo too, I think.  Or at least, I’ll start looking for ideas.   The YA tiger shifter is too short to do it as November’s NaNo, unless I make it a series of 2 or 3 shorts.   Something to consider.

Plus!  I have a college application in for Fanshawe’s online Business Program.   Busy busy, just the way I prefer it.  

I am out of here!  Have housework to do and some rest (it’s been a busy, toxic last week and I’m exhausted) while I plot out what’s going on over the next few months.  

Have a wonderful day!  

Muah!

 

Everyone Loves Free Books!

Good evening!

Since I will be publishing Demon Plague: The second Highland Wolves Book on August the first, I have decided to put the ebooks Witch Hitlist, the first of the series, and Lizendale, a stand alone, very dark paranormal drama up for free!

Phew, that was a long winded sentence.  Sorry about that but you get the point.

FREE BOOKS! 

Which is a good thing, right?

That, dear readers, is my gift to you.  They are for free, across Amazon/Kindle in Canada, the US and the UK.

I do want you to love the first book so that you’ll want to read the second.  And I want you to love my writing so you’ll want to read any book I write.  

I am a writer, after all.  😉

I do hope you enjoy them because the simple fact is that I write to evoke emotions and paint pictures in my readers’ minds.  Not to make a pretty penny, that’d just be a major bonus.  

The links below are the Canadian ones.

Witch Hitlist

Lizendale

Have a wonderful night!

Camp Day 11

Good evening!

I know it’s been a couple days since I posted last.  It’s taken me far too long to write Ida.  The foggy, heavy head is a bitch.

Ida is erotic horror, which means that if you are under the age of majority in your place of residence you need to sit this one out.

This is going to be  short.  It’s dinner time here and I’m really quite tired.  I hope you like the story.  It didn’t turn out like I expected but hey, it’s done and editing fixes everything. 😉

Have a good night! 

Muah!

 

Intense Dreams

Ida Iliescu moaned as her hips thrust upward.  Her sheets tangled around her legs as she thrashed and twisted.  A tanned hand with perfectly manicured fingernails sild between her thighs and rubbed over her clit causing her entire body to clench up. Her breath froze.  He gave her a little pinch.  She screamed as she gushed all over her bed.

The scream woke her.

Ida pounded the sheets and growled in frustration.  “Holy fuck!  Why? WHY do I keep having these dreams?”  She rolled out of bed and padded across the room to the bathroom, her feet making a soft slap on the oak floor.  Taking a wash cloth, she soaked it under the tap, so focused on her frustrations that she didn’t pay any attention to the temperature.

When she touched it to her folds, she screamed again, this time in shock.  “Holy mother of hockey players!  What the hell are you trying to do to yourself?”  She warmed it up and cleaned herself from knees to belly button.  “Damn these dreams,” she muttered.  “Ruining me for anyone else.”

She laid down on the other side of her queen size bed, rolled onto her side and bunched her pillows under her head and between her thighs. “Goddammit I hope there isn’t another dream tonight.”

Eighteen hours later, Ida finally closed her shop.  She leaned her head on the front door as she turned the bolt and sighed.

“You should go home, you look exhausted.  I can do the final books.”

The soft voice behind her made her jump out of her skin.   “Jody!  I almost forgot you were here.”  Ida was startled and whipped around with her hand on her chest, back against the door.  Part of her was dismayed that the carefully applied makeup didn’t hide the dark circles and sunken look to her eyes.

Jody laughed.  “I was in back working on the arrangements for the Murdock wedding.  I can’t believe she has sixteen bridesmaids!”

Ida groaned.  “I know!  But it’s a fantastic commission for us.”  She rubbed her face and pushed off the door.  “Go home to Frank.  You’ve been working late for the last three weeks.   I’m sure he must miss you.”

“Oh yeah, he misses the cooking.  But he’s not missing out on anything else.”  She made a lewd gesture that had them both laughing.

“God.  Speaking of sex, it’s the dreams.  They’re keeping me up.”  Ida followed Jody into the back room of the flower shop.

“Oh yeah?  Still the super hot guy?”  Jody looked interested as she grabbed her coat and purse.

“Yeah.”  The golden god had been invading her dreams on and off for weeks now, though it had been every night for the last week solid.

“Still no actual intercourse?”  Jody was sympathetic.

Ida slapped her hand down on the table.  “No, dammit!  It’s frustrating as hell.  The orgasms are fantastic and I swear he’s done everything but stick that wonderful cock in any hole I’ve got!” she said angrily.  “Seriously, if you’re going to screw with my sleep with these intense dreams at least fuck me.”

“I totally agree,” said Jody, nodding.  “I’m beginning to think he’s ruining you for all real men though.” She studied her boss.  At 5’6”, Ida was as tall or slightly taller than half of the men in the neighbourhood they lived and worked in.  Between their job, which included slinging around fifty pound boxes of flowers, and Ida’s daily running regime, she was toned, delicious looking.  “You should wear your hair down more,” she added.

Ida pulled the long braid over her shoulder and toyed with the end of it.  “Our customers would find these black threads in all their arrangements if I did that.”  Both women laughed.   Ida picked up Jody’s coat and purse and put them in the other woman’s arms.  “Go home.  I’ll finish these three you have going and clean up.  Go see Jay.” She grinned. “Finish what the golden god has started.”

Jody’s eyes twinkled as she headed for the back door and the alley.  “Oh, I’m sure he’ll be quite happy to oblige. See you tomorrow.”

The door slid shut on its track as Jody pushed it from the outside and the automatic lock clicked.  The smile slipped from Ida’s face as she rubbed her eyes.  She was more tired than she had ever been.  Every muscle, hell, every bone ached with fatigue.  She just didn’t have the energy she needed to finish the arrangements but she had to do it.  She dragged a stool over, knowing it would take her three times as long as necessary.

A few hours later, Ida shut the last cooler and leaned against it, yawning heavily.  She laid her head against the cooler door and indulged in a ten second nap.  Any longer than that, she’d found, and her dream lover found her and began his seduction.  She cleaned the work table, washed her hands, briefly lamenting the seemingly permanent green stain on her finger tips.

Finally, she stood in the alley, pulling the door closed.  A small, satisfied smile curved her lips as she punched in the security code that blanketed the store in protection.  She had taken a slightly more than modest inheritance from her maternal grandmother and built this shop from the ground up.  She’d chosen to work as a florist because of the years of her childhood that were spent in the gardens with that grandmother.

She was also an amateur botanist, creating new breeds of her favourite plants through cross pollination and splicing.  And she loved every minute of her life.

Except the damn dreams.

Footsteps echoing off the damp brick walls around her made Ida put her hand in her pocket and thread her fingers through the set of brass knuckles she kept there.  You didn’t live in the middle of downtown, even if it was being rebranded as an upscale place to live, without some sort of protection.  She reached into her other pocket and thumbed the cap off her tiny can of spray Mace.

Whispers started.  The hushed voices bounced all around her.

What a tasty package.

Wonder if she smells like flowers.

Look at that mouth, I’d like to –

Ida stopped listening and lengthened her strides, trying not to look like they were getting to her. She stared at the mouth of the alley.  Her shop was at the bottom of a long tall building, her back door opened at the side, about one third of the way up the alley from the main street.  Her car was parked in the lot at the other end.   She risked a glance behind her to find three men blocking the way to the busy street.

At her look, the three grinned and picked up their pace.

Ida moved faster but then her boot came down on someone’s discarded banana peel and she slid, crashing into the wall.  She caught her fall on a garbage can and straightened quickly.  But they’d gained some distance on her.  She sprinted forward.

The footsteps behind her got louder, faster.  The garbage cans when flying as they shoved them out of the way.

“Get her, Joe!” a rough voice shouted.

She looked behind her and gave a startled scream to find one of them, presumably Joe, was almost close enough to grab her.  Ida adjusted her purse so there was no strap to grab and put in more effort to running.

Something heavy hit her from behind and she flew through the air briefly before landing on the wet, dirty ground, weighed down.  The breath was knocked out of her and she couldn’t catch her breath. She wheezed trying to inhale.

“Get off her, Joe!  We want some fun and we can’t do that if she can’t breathe.”

The weight lifted off her and she was lifted to her feet.  Strong fingers gripped her biceps as a wide flat hand slapped her between the shoulder blades.  “Come on, pretty thing, breathe!”

Ida coughed, gasped and drew in a long breath.  Immediately, she struggled against the hands holding her.  She wrenched one hand free and sprayed Mace into the face of the one in front of her.

Unfortunately, he saw her coming and smacked her hand to the side.  The Mace missed his eyes and sprayed his cheek instead.  His face transformed from concerned to furious and she shrank back.  He reached out and backhanded her before he ripped the Mace from her fingers and threw it down the alley.

Tears formed in Ida’s eyes as a bruise formed on her cheek but she lifted her chin and spit at him.  “You can’t hurt me,” she said.

“Oh honey, we plan on it.”  He smiled cruelly as he motioned to the two others.  They tore her purse off her then cut her coat off with a few practiced moves with the knives they carried.  Then her arms were pulled behind her and pinned there.

The leader stepped close again and reached out to stroke her unblemished cheek.  His hand slid down her throat, over her collar bone and stopped on her breast.  He squeezed hard enough to leave fingerprints and she gasped.  He grinned as he put both hands on the buttons on her blouse and tore it open.

“Oh la la,” Thug Number Two said.  “The uptight florist likes to wear pretty things.”

Thug One took out his own knife and slid the blade very lightly over her chest.  He popped open her bra by slicing through the small scrap of fabric holding the cups together.  Her breasts popped free.  “Look at how beautiful all this pale flesh is, boys.”

The other two agreed and just as Thug One reached out to touch her there was a shout from the end of the alley.  Footsteps rang out again and Joe changed his grip on Ida as Thug One and Two turned to face the newcomer.  “This bird is ours,” growled Thug One.

Ida bristled.  “Bird?  What, you watch too many old mob movies?  Piss off, you bastard.”  She stomped on Joe’s foot and when his grip loosened and he leaned forward with the pain, she slammed the back of her head into his nose.  Turning, she kneed him in the balls and then took off running, holding her shirt together.

The sounds of a fight started behind her and she slowed.  Near the end of the alley she turned to see who her rescuer was.  She got a glimpse of golden hair, a strong jaw and broad shoulders and slid to a halt, her jaw hanging open.

It was the golden god of her dreams.  He was magnificent as he seemed to effortlessly flow through the fight until all three were on the ground.  Only when they were all groaning did he come to a halt and pulled out a cell phone. “Yes.  I am calling because I have here three men who assaulted a woman in an ally beside the Have a Heart florist shop on Sweet Street.”  He listened for a moment.  “They may need ambulances, yes.  We will wait, of course.”  He shut down the phone and looked up.  “Miss?  Or Ma’am… I need you to stay here.  The police will be along momentarily.”

He removed his coat and spread it over a few boxes that were piled up nearby after testing to make sure they would hold her.  “Please, sit down.  You must be exhausted and frightened.”

Ida came closer, she couldn’t help it.  His voice was seductive.  It reminded her of his whispers in her dreams.  Her knees were suddenly shaking and she started to sink to the ground.  He was there in a flash to pick her up.  He sat on the boxes and cradled her in his lap.  “Shh,” he whispered. “It’s okay, you’re safe now.”

Tears suddenly filled her eyes as she gathered her blouse over her chest.  Revolving red and blue lights filled the alley from both ends and the rest became a blur.  She found herself in her own home, sitting at her dining room table by candlelight as he set a bowl of a light soup in front of her.

Ida blinked up at him, fear warring with comfort.  “Who are you?”

He sat down in a chair beside her and rested a hand over hers.  “Oh, my dear, I thought you were in shock.  I helped you in the alley, remember?”  His thumb stroked the back of her hand in mesmerizing circles.  “My name is Xander Aarle.  After you gave your statement, I brought you home.  You asked me to stay for a little while and I offered to make dinner while you took a shower.”

She looked down at herself and discovered she was wearing a silk robe, a pair of slippers and little else.  “I don’t remember.”

Xander smiled as he stroked her hand and looked into her eyes.  “That’s okay.  It’s shock.  You’re alright.”

Ida yawned.  She blushed as she covered it with her hand.  “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.  You’re tired.”  He smiled at her and she blinked.

When she opened her eyes he was above her, his mouth on her nipple and she was arching her back in pleasure, her hands fisted in his hair.   She shoved against him.  “What?  How!?  Get off me.”  She pushed against his shoulders.

Xander stroked her nipple with his tongue.  “It’s okay,” he said softly. “You asked for this.”  He shifted back to rest on his kneels and heels.  His shaft rose high in an impressive display of his arousal.  “You wanted it in all you dreams.  You begged me to fuck you.”  He grabbed her legs and pushed her knees back to her chest as her jaw went slack.

“You…you were in my dreams?” she asked as he moved her hands to hold her legs in place.

“Spread those beautiful thighs for me, my little tasty treat.”  Xander shifted again, lying on the bed with his face near her core.  He blew gently on her and she gasped.

Helplessly, she spread her thighs.  “I don’t…Oh!” she panted as he swiped the flat of his tongue up her lower lips. An electric tingle shot through her that made her feel good and yet left her feeling tired.  He brought her to a screaming orgasm that way then pushed himself to his knees.

Xander crowded her, laying on top of her.  He peppered her face with kisses.  “Such a lovely snack you are. Let me in, Ida, let me in.”

Ida whimpered and rocked her pelvis just a little, causing his cock to slip through her slick folds.  “Please, please! Fuck me.”

“That, my dear, is exactly what I needed.”

She screamed as he thrust into her all the way to the hilt, forcing all her muscles to adapt at once.  Ida opened her eyes and screamed again; this time in fear and loathing.

Xander had transformed.  His face was terrifying.  He had a short snout and wicked fangs.  Black eyes with fire in the pupils stared at her.  Cheekbones jutted out and rose up at the temples to meet multiple ridges from his forehead.  Red skin covered him from head to foot and great big wings rose up from his back.

Ida wriggled backwards, fighting to get away. “Let me go!” she shrieked.

“No, your life is mine now.  I won you!” He growled.  His head darted forward and he sunk his teeth into her shoulder to pin her down.  His tongue lapped at the blood but that’s not what he was really after.

She pounded on him and kicked, struggling as hard as she could.  A sharp, burning pain suddenly exploded in her womb as barbs from his penis stabbed into her.  Ida’s struggles got weaker and weaker as he drank in her life force.

Finally, all that was left of her was a husk and two blood stains on the bed.

April Camp Day 6

Good morning!

Fanny is already done!

It was like pulling teeth to get these 377 words.  Took way longer than it should have but Fanny insisted on being a bloody poem.

Well, not a bloody  but I figured it was a better word than fucking.  More polite, yes?  Until I blew it right there.

See, she scrambled my brain.  Hate the woman.  I’m glad we’re past her.  I will probably work on George some later, just to get the daily word count done to keep my stats up, but you won’t see him until tomorrow.

It’ll be a much better quality than this bit of… I’m not sure what this is.  A poem, I think.  That’s what was wanted anyway.  I don’t do poetry.  Spells, sure.  Poems, no.  And this was made harder by her insistence that every line had to start with F.  What the fuck, man.

It’s done.  I’m happy.  

Have a wonderful day!

Muah!

Fanny’s Doom

 

Fanny Fabron is a French witch

Famed for her potions of health.

Fat though she was, people adored her

Funny, dimpled smile.

 

Forever cheerful she was, until the

Flutter of her biological clock

Fogged her brain until a child was all

Fanny desired.

 

From an old black book, worn and

Faded, a spell she searched out.

“Furfur, Furfur…What an odd name,”

Felt Fanny with amusement.

 

“For you a circle shall be cast.

Fiend you are called, lover you shall be.”

Fine male form a demon must have,

Fun for fucking and impregnating.

 

“Fertilize me!” she cried while

Flinging her hands in the air.

“Fornicate with me! But more,

Fond of me, I beg of thee.”

 

Furfur appeared with lightning and a

Funnel cloud fierce.

Fanny gasped and screamed as

Fetid air cleared.

 

Fine male form indeed, had he.

Fanny and head of a deer, chest

Fit for a weight lifter, wings of

Fur and leather.

 

“Fornicate, say you?”

Furfur asked of she.

Feral eyes looked her up and down,

Fat tongue licked skinny lips.

 

Fright past, Fanny stared at

Furry male parts that hung low

For it grew and grew.

“Finally!” she exclaimed.

 

Furfur paused, so used to being

Frightful was he that love was

Foreign to him and unknown.

“Fuck now!” was the gleeful shout.

 

Future comes, as time must pass.

Fritz, was the boy child of the union,

Furred was he, just like his father.

Fuzzy knobs upon his head.

 

Feet like hooves, he was a

Freak among the others.

Fracas and fights broke out often.

Finally, the villagers had enough.

 

Furor and whispered plans.

Forks for pitching, weapons made.

Flames on torches, burning bright.

“Fight Burn them tonight!”

 

Furfur disappeared in a cloud of sulfur.

Fanny cursed him, grabbed her child and

Fled into woods so dark.

Falling and stumbling, scratches galore.

 

Following on their heels, villagers chanted,

“Fat Fanny, furry Fritz.  Die tonight!

Fire to purify, flames to devour!

Father of Lies, welcome your spawn!”

 

Found in a cave, they were, afraid and cold.

Fuel piled around, wood and bark, stick and grass.

Flames touched to pyre

Fire exploded, high and bright.

 

Fanny and Fritz are no more.

Fear killed once and once again.

For fear brought love and,

Finally, destruction.

An Awww Moment

The cover for HW2

The cover for HW2

 

Hello!

Are you melting today?  We’re melting today.  It’s GK’s first day of Grade 11.  And she has homework.  Very frustrating homework.  One question is:  You’ve discovered a new element: A=302, Z=119.  How many protons, neurons and electrons are there?

She bent a plastic pencil in half.   I read her textbook and I can’t tell her either.  Hopefully, her classmates will be able to.

Meanwhile, I recently finished the third edit on HW2.  I passed it on to a friend of mine who loves my writing but is brutally honest.  Always has been.  She has edited for me before.  I asked her to look for stupid errors that I’ve missed.  I haven’t looked at the results yet because I wanted to share the content of her return email.

I’m sorry this took me longer than I expected it to. But I am so happy to have been asked. I highlighted the changes I made in case you want to change things back and left notes at the end of each chapter. There is one exception, a joke I had to mention, couldn’t stop myself. Overall the story is wonderful, sexy and heartwarming. I cried when he proposed and when he was scared of her I cried with her, earning me some funny looks around here. simply put, I loved the book.

Isn’t that wonderful?   I love it when I can affect people like that.   THIS is why I write.  Why I wish more people could see my books.  Why I don’t understand people like the book stores who say “this isn’t our thing.”  What?  Evocative writing isn’t for you?  Why do you manage a store in the largest chain in Canada?

*coughs*  End rant.  Sorry.

I think what kitty wrote here is fantastic.  

Wait, I have to find the joke.

Found it!  Kitty is from Arizona, (USA), which, for those who don’t know, is a desert state.  When I was there, a Canadian from a humid province, I had to make the following joke myself, at least once.  (Probably more than once, knowing me. *laughs*)

The line from the story – where Anna, Liam and Chelle had just stepped into the first circle of Hell – is:  The heat took their breath away and, gasping, Anna managed to make an old North American joke, “At least it’s a dry heat.”  She wheezed out a laugh.

Kitty’s joke: “In my head I saw it continued …just like Arizona.” 

*grins*  There is a reason we’re friends.  

I’m off to make dinner now.  I had to share her praise with you.  I love it.

Have a grand evening (or day for you Aussies).

Muah!