Tag: art
I like my coffee…
This appealed to the dark and morbid part of my soul.
Though truthfully, I drink coffee with tons of sugar, cream, and flavorings, ha ha.
Thank you for sharing my work!
Muse
I need to find out what these pictures are from, because I think they are ridiculously adorable.
Thank you for sharing my work!
On blogging
I actually really like blogging.
As a teenager, I religiously kept a Livejournal for years, posting something every. single. day. In a different life, I would have transferred those skillz over to a less angsty platform, and made a shot toward becoming a professional blogger.
In a different life.
But 2011 found me living out of a car, and once I saw the world from that angle, I never recovered from it.
Just as well, really, because in interim a number of blogger-culture quirks popped up that make my teeth hurt.
I don’t read many blogs now. A few years ago I enjoyed crafting blogs, until I realized that the quality of the actual crafts was dropping precipitously, while those popular bloggers were publishing how-to books that were teaching sloppy techniques. They didn’t care about the crafts; they cared about monetizing.
I’m enough of an arteest to believe that money comes second to artistic integrity. I won’t try to sell something that I was too lazy to put any effort into.
Sometimes I wonder how many other people care. I wonder how many other people are tired of vapid content generators that are concerned more about page views than connecting with readers. I wonder how many people are like me … if anyone.
I like blogging. I’ll probably start putting more energy into it from now on, simply because I’m tired of hiding who I am for fear of being hurt. I just refuse to be anything other than me, especially for a paycheck.
Thank you for sharing my work!
Sleepy
WordPress is congratulating me on my blogging streak.
Truth is, I haven’t been sleeping well, and when I’m tired I talk to myself more.
Instead of doing anything useful, I’m just chattering away in my head about nothing in particular, because I can’t think clearly.
Anyway, I did pointless a doodle about my next novel.
So WordPress can love my blogging streak even more.
Thank you for sharing my work!
About Light Eternal
I think that the best way to describe Light Eternal is as a Gnostic romance. Or, as my husband so succinctly put it, I studied up on Gnosticism so I could write trashy fanfiction about it.
I like fantasy romance, and most of my ideas revolve around the simplicity of two people in love. One of my biggest disappointments with the romance genre (and fiction in general) is that very few of them start with marriage, which, in my personal experience, is when I would say the real adventure begins. My novels don’t revolve around the question of “Will they get together?” but rather, “What are they willing to do to stay together?”
I also like magic and larger-than-life characters, so with a touch of amusement I would say that I ascribe to the “One-Punch Man” style of storytelling. The conflict isn’t about how they are going to be strong enough to win, but is instead an almost human interest exploration of what life would be like as the strongest, smartest, etc.
Light Eternal also contains a lot of pagan elements, including soul retrievals and spiritual parasites. The story is about gods and goddesses surrounded by a rich mythology, verging on spiritual fiction. Because there is a strong theme of Light versus Dark, there are a lot of Gothic and horror moments as well.
Finally, it is a novella about trauma, mental health, and dissociation. It illustrates the damage that traumatic events can cause, and the struggle to continue on with life afterward.
It is the best fictional Gnostic romance book out there!
Available for free with Kindle Unlimited
Thank you for sharing my work!
Light Eternal
A young woman, fleeing a terrible secret, finds herself beset by a supernatural beast which threatens not her body, but her very soul–and the mysterious stranger who saves her claims that he is not what he appears to be… and neither is she.
Before she knows it, the two of them are traveling across the country, fleeing a mysterious threat that seems to lurk beneath every shadow, while her benefactor races to heal her of injuries to her mind and soul that threaten not only her, but himself, the world, and the very fabric of reality.
Now available on Kindle with 50% MORE editing! JOYOUS JUBILATION!
You probably didn’t notice that I yanked down all but the first three chapters that I had posted here and on FictionPress, so I can have the book be provided for free with Kindle Unlimited. Go ahead and give it a shot; it’s short and you have nothing to lose. 😉
Thank you for sharing my work!
Light Eternal Chapter 2
Chapter 2
The motel room that Muriel walked into wasn’t noteworthy in any way – it was neither expensive, nor cheap, but still reminiscent of vacationing on a budget – with a slight musty smell and worn carpet – but it was clean and well-maintained. Muriel slowly pulled off her coat, revealing a pink sweater worn over a baggy white blouse, and hung it up on the coat stand near the door. She shivered slightly, hugged herself, and rubbed her arms, then turned up the thermostat on the heater underneath the front window before sitting down on one of the two queen-sized beds, where she opened her backpack. She sifted through it and pulled out a photograph of her parents and stared at it.
She had almost forgotten.
How could she forget?
Burning tears stung her eyes as she crumpled up the picture and threw it away in the small garbage can by the bed; she didn’t know why she had packed it in the first place. Trying very hard to hide any signs of crying, she hurriedly grabbed the bag and ran to the bathroom, locking the door behind her.
Aion stood straight and tall in the doorway as a frozen breeze blew past him and into the room, taking a moment to look at the garbage can, his face hard and unreadable. In his mind he was weighing something, considering it carefully, until another thought came to him and broke him out of his brooding. Then he reached into his pocket, pulled out the key-cards for their room, and put one down on the nearby table, before quietly leaving.
The hot steamy shower reminded Muriel of how cold she had been, and the contrast hurt almost too much to bear. She had to acclimate herself slowly, starting at lukewarm and gradually adjusting the temperature up, wondering when the prickling goosebumps that covered her skin would subside. There was something inside that was untouched by the water and heat, a sort of emptiness that kept her feeling chilled in the center of her bones. She couldn’t remember if it had always been there, but her skin was turning bright red from the heat, so she slowly turned the water off and stepped out of the tub.
After she wrapped herself up a towel, Muriel stared at herself in the mirror, water dripping from her sopping hair. Her face looked strange and unfamiliar, and she felt sure that it belonged to someone else. She didn’t like her hair, which seemed too dark and too short, even though it hung slightly past her shoulders. Somehow, that didn’t seem like her; it didn’t seem like how she would keep her hair. Her eyes were a pretty shade of hazel, but they had a haunted look that frightened her. She couldn’t think of why her eyes would look like that. She quickly turned from the mirror and rummaged through her backpack looking for clothes, but, again, it felt like she was intruding on someone else’s life. The jeans were too big around the waist, and she had to belt them to make them stay up. The blouses were all baggy, bland, and unappealing. She pulled on something pink, because it seemed like the most vibrant thing she could find, and she didn’t want to feel faded.
Exiting the bathroom, Muriel was surprised to see a burger bag sitting on the table next to the mini fridge. She didn’t realize that she had been in the bathroom long enough for the man to leave and come back, but she appreciated that he had thought to bring her food – he must have gone to one of those all-right places, because the clock next to the bed read midnight. Muriel reached into the bag and was shocked to realize that the food was cold; she slowly sank down into a chair, baffled at how that was possible. It had felt like she had been in the bathroom for only a few minutes.
How long had it been? She hadn’t checked the time when they arrived; now, she wished she had. She felt fuzzy and awful; a strange buzzing began in her head, carrying her focus away for a moment.
The door opened and Aion stepped in, pausing to take off his coat, but Muriel stared blankly ahead of her, not responding to his appearance. She looked listless, but he wasn’t surprised. He walked over to her and very carefully took one of her hands, watching to make sure that she didn’t flinch or look frightened.
“Do you remember me?” he whispered.
Her eyes focused on his face and she frowned, trying hard to grasp something that wouldn’t come to her. She knew that she knew him, but the answer of who he was wouldn’t come to her. “I don’t … know,” she murmured.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
She paused, alarmed that she didn’t immediately know. Then, with some relief, she found herself replying, “Muriel,” and didn’t give any indication that it felt like someone else had answered for her.
“Where are we?” the man asked.
That one seemed easy. “In a hotel room.”
“Where?”
It wasn’t an easy question after all, and she lowered her head, biting her lip for a moment to repress the urge to cry before muttering, “… I don’t remember.”
Aion gently stroked the top of her head, his fingers sending tingles through Muriel’s scalp and down her neck, seemingly satisfied, despite her inability to remember such simple things. “Go ahead and eat, and don’t worry,” he said gently. “You’re experiencing a fugue state, but it’s nothing to be alarmed about. You’ll grow used to them in time.”
She wanted to cry again, because his gentleness hurt in a way that didn’t make sense. To cover it up, she quickly asked, “How long have we been here?”
“About two hours.”
Muriel nodded and pulled out the burger, peeling off the wrapper before she slowly took a bite and swallowed. Cold hamburgers were not as good as fresh ones; she clung to that thought because it was inane and meaningless – anything to keep herself away from the frozen pain that was trapped inside her chest, hiding just under her ribcage. “What was your name again?” she asked after a moment.
“Aion.”
“Aion,” she repeated softly. “Am I going to be okay?”
“I promise that you will be.”
Muriel leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Aion’s chest, resting her head against him. The warmth from his body felt good, and reminded Muriel that she was still alive. She could hear his heart beating, and it eased tension out of her muscles that she hadn’t realized was there. Her cheeks were wet with the tears that she could no longer hold back, but it seemed safe to cry while hidden in Aion’s shirt. In turn, Aion wrapped his arms around her and whispered, “I’m going to make my failure right.”
Time stopped, and the bond between them was reawakened. Muriel remember that she had known Aion from somewhere, but the truth still eluded her. Her mind felt blocked from her by a black wall that couldn’t be penetrated, keeping her locked in the moment without a past or a future. But her heart still remembered, and she wanted to stay with him forever. She closed her eyes and drifted off into a deep sleep.
After laying her down in bed, and tucking the blanket around her, Aion stood looking out the window, thinking.
His failure.
He had allowed himself to be too trusting, and weak, and that had ultimately prevented him from protecting Muriel like he had promised he would – and she had paid the price. He wouldn’t allow that to happen again.
But he wasn’t the only one who failed on that night. He retrieved the picture from the waste bin, brought it over to the light, and studied it for a moment, before it burst into flames and floated away as ash. They had broken their contract, and they would not escape the consequences.
Thank you for sharing my work!
Fade to White Chapter 24
Fade to White
Chapter Twenty Four
Every beat of her heart sent pain pulsing through her head, and Tryne groaned as her senses returned to her. Soft silk sheets rubbed against the skin of her arms, but the cords that bound her wrists together were hard and stiff.
“Good morning darling,” a male voice spoke, “or rather, I should say good evening.”
Opening her eyes, Tryne found that her vision was blurry and that she could see double of everything. The effect was nauseating and Tryne’s stomach churned, filling her mouth with bile. Closing her eyes again, she sunk back into the mattress, and after a moment, the feeling passed. Blinking and looking around, Tryne’s gaze settled on Nosaj sitting in an arm chair across the room polishing his sword, and her heart dropped.
Glancing at her, Nosaj chuckled. “Don’t worry my dear. I haven’t touched you at all.”
“What do you want with me?”
“In time you’ll know exactly what my intentions are.”
A lump rose up in Tryne’s throat and she forced it down with a swallow, then began wriggling her arms to get her hands free.
“I’m sorry I tied you up, but . . .” Nosaj tapped at the red lines on his face. “You’re a scratcher.”
“You deserve more than that for what you did to my mom!”
“Ah yes, that woman. What was her name again?”
“Alara, you swine.”
“I hope you realize that I did what I had to do. I felt so betrayed by her for deceiving me. All this time I thought she was running a business and helping out the economy, but then I find out that she was really a leader in a terrorist group. What’s more, she hid the fact that she had a beautiful daughter as well.”
“We are not a terrorist group! We are fighting against a corrupt dictator and working for the betterment of everyone’s lives.”
“Is that how you see it? Tell me, are my taxes too high? Is my justice system unfair?”
Tryne hesitated for a moment, before her answer came to her. “No one is allowed to speak what’s on their mind. Any person who speaks a word against you is thrown into jail for treason, and you have even gone so far as to destroy an entire village. Those are not the signs of a benevolent ruler!”
“Ooo, preachy.” Nosaj chuckled. “You must understand, my sweet, that there are actions a leader is sometimes forced to take in order to maintain peace among his subjects. Don’t you agree with me that there will always be people who are upset at the government, no matter what?”
Biting her lip, Tryne shook her head. “That does not justify what you have done.”
“I beg you to forgive me for changing the topic, but this is simply driving me crazy with curiosity. How did you manage to seduce Jerek? All his life he has never once shown any interest or desire in the amorous aspects of life, and now suddenly he’s supposedly in love.”
“I didn’t seduce him.”
“Oh, surely you did! You have accomplished in a week what our beloved Ramo had been trying to do for a couple years now. How did you do it?”
“I didn’t do anything! It just happened!”
“Tsk tsk, my dear. You aren’t going to give me a real answer? I’m disappointed.”
“Go burn in Hell. It isn’t even any of your business.”
Chuckling, Nosaj got up and crossed the room, grabbing Tryne’s chin with his hand and tilting her head to look into her eyes. “I think I understand a little now. It’s not that Jerek didn’t have in interest in sex at all, but instead his turn ons were different from the average man’s. I should have realized that sooner, since after all Jerek is far from being average.”
Glaring at Nosaj, Tryne recoiled away from him as he sat down on the bed next to her.
“Would you like me to tell you a story?” he said. “Well, even if you don’t I still want to tell it anyway. It’s my favorite story, after all. Twenty years ago I heard rumor about a young boy who had been born with hair as white as a cloud on a sunny day, and eyes that couldn’t decide which color to be so they were every color at once. I was intrigued. Did such a boy really exist? I wondered.
“I decided to personally investigate as an idea formed in my mind. If I could indeed find this boy, then he would make an excellent heir to rule over the Twelve Villages. He would be fearsome and mysterious, an enigma to all of his subjects and perfect in his unusual appearance as a ruler. I became enamored with the idea. I had to find that boy. Then finally, in the Garnet Village, I did. I regret to say that his parents wouldn’t give him up to me and I was forced to burn down their house with them inside, but I finally had my boy and I could start watching as my dream unfolded. Everything I have done with Jerek, my dear, has led up to this moment.”
“What do you mean?”
“Where would all the romance of the story be if I didn’t die? In order to pass on to becoming the perfect ruler, Jerek must slay me first. Only then will my vision be complete.”
“You’re insane!”
“Yes, quite so.” Nosaj chuckled.
“And what did you want with me?”
Sweeping a lock of Tryne’s hair behind her ear, Nosaj patted her cheek. “I was going to rape you of course, but instead you got me story telling.”
Tryne jumped back away from Nosaj, falling onto the floor and scrambling to get to her knees. “Don’t you dare! I swear to God I will hurt you if you try!” she exclaimed as she began straining her hands at the ropes again.
Laughing, Nosaj stepped down and reached toward Tryne, but she snapped her teeth at his hand and he pulled away. “You have nothing to worry about, my dear. In light of once again vividly remembering my ambition, it seems that violating the girl Jerek loves would only corrupt the perfect story. Instead, we will wait here for him to arrive, and you will witness the events that take place, knowing that this was how I longed for it to be.”
“But what if after you die, Jerek decides he doesn’t want to be Commander and King?”
“Yes, I have considered that possibility, and at first it greatly perturbed me. But then I remembered the little rebel terrorist group that you belong to. He’d have two choices, either fight them or join them. Fighting them he’d be forced to take up my former position, and joining them they would regard him as a sort of savior and elect him to be their leader.”
“We already have leaders, that’s not going to happen.”
“Leaders like you?”
Tryne paused, pressing her lips together before replying, “Yes.”
Her answer made Nosaj laugh. “Just like your mother was?”
“I took over her old position.”
“Your mother was a pseudo leader.”
Blinking in surprise, Tryne mouthed to word “How.”
“She wasn’t in the loop, so to speak. She could barely answer my questions, and there were times she was blatantly lying. There’s a reason why I’m the Commander and King.”
“There’s a reason why our resistance group has existed for so long too.”
“I know. I have the nerve to collect taxes for the sole purpose of keeping the kingdom running. Bad me!”
“You destroy your own villages.”
“And this is where we come full circle.” Nosaj walked over and sat down in the chair, picking up his sword and starting to polish it again. “We don’t know how long it will be before Jerek comes, so if you feel inclined to take a nap go ahead and do so.”
Tryne glared at Nosaj as she leveraged herself to her feet then sat down on the edge of the bed. She felt confused. Nosaj didn’t seem to be the pure evil man she had always believed he was.
Thank you for sharing my work!
Fade to White chapter 22
Fade to White
Chapter Twenty Two
The time had come. Nosaj commented casually on the fact over breakfast, then extended an invitation to Ramo to come along, although he knew that Ramo would decline. It had been two days from the time that Jerek had left the castle and Ramo’s report that Jerek had fallen for a girl. There was an electricity in the air, more acute than the normal buzz before a raid, and it excited Nosaj to a level that he hadn’t felt in a long time. He almost wanted to describe the feeling as magical and nostalgic.
In celebration of the event, Nosaj had dressed himself up more than usual. He was wearing his long black cape with white fur on the collar, over his baggy white shirt tucked into his slim fitting black pants. Around his neck he wore numerous gold chains, some of which hung all the way down to his stomach, and large rings on his fingers with brightly colored stones that caught and reflected the sunlight. He felt like a King, and he was sure that he gave the formidable appearance of one.
Mounting his white stallion, Nosaj looked down at the men on foot with satisfaction. There were five of his most loyal soldiers, enough to show his strength and dominion without overdoing it. “Men,” he began, “this is a great day. This will be the day we teach a lesson to our beloved Jerek, and from this day on he will no longer try to fight against us. After this day, he will become as you are, faithful and loyal to your Commander and King. Move out!”
It was Nosaj’s first time going to the cottage, despite the fact that he had known about it for so long, and it surprised him that the cottage was closer to the castle than any of his villages. Reaching the clearing and looking down at the building, Nosaj nodded to his men who silently stalked around the land and up to the door.
Jerek sprang up from his chair as the door was bashed open and he quickly grabbed the large wooden spoon from the pot sitting on the middle of the table, turning to face the soldiers that came in. Tryne didn’t react quickly enough to stand, but as the first soldier reached over to grab her, Jerek intercepted and brought the spoon down on the man’s arm.
But there was another man right behind him, and as the first soldier drew back in pain, he took his place. Tryne swung at and scratched this new soldier with her hand, but he kept a steady tight grip on her as he pulled her away from Jerek, while the first soldier blocked Jerek’s spoon.
There wasn’t even a snap when the spoon broke. Jerek brought his arm up, noticing the difference in weight and realizing that half of it was missing, then his arm moved back down on its own, striking the narrow stick of wood on the soldier and causing it to break again, this time hurting Jerek’s hand.
Tryne screamed, and Jerek whipped around just in time to see as she was dragged outside into the sunlight. He hesitated, the urge to rush after her rising up inside him. It was in that moment that both of the remaining soldiers grabbed hold of Jerek, overpowering him and forcing him through the door as well. Blinking at the bright outside, Jerek’s eyes found Nosaj sitting on his horse and he rushed forward to get at him. Nosaj’s grip tightened around his reigns, then relaxed as Jerek was tackled to the ground and held pinned down.
Dismounting, Nosaj walked to Jerek and stood silently staring down at him for a moment, before turning to Tryne who was breathing heavily with her arms twisted back by the man who held her captive. “She is pretty,” Nosaj murmured, touching the side of Tryne’s face. Glaring, Tryne spat at Nosaj, hitting his arm as he stepped back. Pulling back his upper lip, Nosaj wiped the spit off on one of his soldiers, then slapped Tryne across the face.
“Don’t touch her!” Jerek yelled, heaving against the men who held him down.
Stepping over to Jerek, Nosaj put his foot in between Jerek’s shoulder blades and pushed him into the grass, moving all of his weight onto that foot. “You have turned against me, Jerek.”
“I follow myself now. Let me up and fight me like a man!”
“Oh, of course not.” Nosaj grinned. “But do let him sit up or something, I want him to be able to see.”
“You bastard! What are you doing?” Jerek strained to break away.
“Just watch,” Nosaj answered, and with a big smirk took Tryne’s chin in his hand, digging his fingernails into her skin. Pulling her head closer to him, Nosaj put out his tongue and touched her cheek with it, drawing a wet path up along the side of her face. Jerek made another strong pull toward Nosaj, but he was yanked back and held in place, while Tryne tried to move away, kicking out her legs and landing a blow on Nosaj’s shin. Cussing, Nosaj changed his grip to around Tryne’s neck, slapping her face then grabbing a fistful of her hair, he yanked her head back. “Stupid girl. Don’t you realize that I’ve come to kill you?” Tightening his grip around her neck, Nosaj shook her, jarring her head and causing her eyes to lose focus as she choked.
Screaming, Jerek thrust himself forward, managing to free himself and take a couple steps before he was dragged back.
“Hold him down,” Nosaj said, letting go of Tryne who sagged and almost slipped down to her knees. “You’re lucky that I’m not going to kill you, Jerek.”
“Why won’t you?” Jerek asked bitterly, his eyes flashing red as he looked up at Nosaj.
“Because I’ve invested too much into you. I had to burn your house just to get my hands on you, then there was all the time I had to spend building up the story that it was the terrorists who killed your parents. Spending twenty years raising you to be my heir was no easy task, and I won’t let this whore prevent you from filling your single purpose for existence. You will rule after me when I’m gone.”
“I’ll kill you!” Jerek growled.
“Good luck with that. By the time I get through with you, you won’t be able to stand for weeks.”
“Jerek!” Tryne shrieked, suddenly jerking free of the guard that held her and she flung herself at Nosaj, managing to scratch him across the face before she was thrown down. Leering, Nosaj touched the red marks on his cheek, then kicked Tryne in the side.
“Damn girl,” he spat, kicking her again.
“Stop it!” Jerek yelled.
Stooping down, Nosaj grabbed Tryne around the neck again, and forced her head at an angle so she could see over to where Jerek was held down. “I want you to look at him,” Nosaj whispered, his hot breath tickling her ear. “I want you to make eye contact when you die.” Then he squeezed his hand tightly, causing Tryne to choke and gurgle as her air supply was cut off. She brought her hands up and tried to pry Nosaj’s hand open, but soon they fell limply to the ground as her eyes slowly drooped shut. Letting go, Nosaj let Tryne’s body fall to the ground and looked coldly over at Jerek who had grown still. Tears squeezed their way out of Jerek’s tightly closed eyes, his teeth clenched together, and his hands balled into fists.
The sound started as soft sobbing, but it grew louder and more furious with each second that passed. When Jerek opened his eyes, they had turned completely red, glowing with an intense hatred and he pulled so fiercely against the men who held him back that their feet slid a couple inches with every lunge he made. Calmly, Nosaj pulled out his sword and pointed it at Jerek.
“You will come back to the castle now.”
“I would rather die!”
“Then so be it.” Taking his sword, Nosaj knocked Jerek in the head with the hilt so hard that blood ran down his forehead. Jerek fell down as blackness took over the edges of his vision. As his eyes slowly closed, he saw Nosaj pick up Tryne’s body and mount the white stallion with it, then the darkness completely took over.
By Autumn Rain 