Say you’re a Legend Seeker. Say again you’ve strayed too near a portal and have been sucked into one of the far realms you’ve only viewed though ink and parchment. Firstly, to be honest, you’ve only a 1 in 10 chance of surviving the first five minutes because, despite the supposed randomness of the portals’ times and positions, many of them have developed a nasty habit of landing first-time leapers into the middle of a battle or into a peaceful looking situation which is about to explode into an assassination or ambush.
Rusted Notes
He’d almost forgotten what they looked like.
The old soldier gripped his rifle strap tighter as if the canvas cutting against calloused skin could hold off the dull ache in his chest.
Pianos, they used to call them. Continue reading
One Step at a Time: a flash fiction
I remember when I was a child. Strange, the things one thinks about as they are dying.
I catch the doorframe of the castle gate with a painful gasp. Each breath burns in my chest as poison races through my veins. I clench one bloody fist against my ribs. It’s only a shallow cut, but it’s enough when poison is involved. Continue reading
Brave enough to fail
Failing hurts. We try. We give everything we have and it’s not enough. Or we try and get it wrong. The best intentions and efforts don’t guarantee us success.
It’s life. We’re going to fail.
The MBTI as spies
If the MBTI types were spies ordered ‘off-grid’ how would they react?
This is one of the many random amusements my best friend and I have employed over the years. Credit for half the answers goes to Kate Flournoy. Credit for the idea goes to Buddy Lieberman.
Enjoy!
Dust to Flame Cover Reveal
And it’s here! Finally.
Also it’s on sale because I forgot I was doing this thing on Black Friday. But hey, why not?
After months of working on Dust to Flames, forgetting I need to get stuff ready for a launch (in my defense, my sister was getting married. Things were kinda a mess) remembering to do launch stuff then forgetting again, I HAVE THE COVER FOR DUST TO FLAME!!!
Dust to Flame Collage
Words are powerful. Pictures are even more so.
Masks: a poem of breaking
Each mask hides another,
Veil on tear-stained veil.
Each tattered page of my heart
Inked and stamped and sealed
In the shadows of my mind.
What is the point of writing if no one reads it?
Why do we write? Authors put hours and weeks and months into a project. They pound their head against walls, or sometimes against keyboards to see if any of the gibberish that results has merit.
And for what?
A few dollars, perhaps? A glowing review? Someone somewhere kinda knowing their name?
Study of Humans
I got an idea from my best friend, awhile back. Something that helps me watch people better. Think about them. Wonder. You know, all that creepy, stalkerish stuff.
I write notes about people I see and I save them.
I don’t write these all that often, but they are very fun, are good practice for me, and they give me a bank of characters to pull from if I need one sometime.