Christine James's Blog, page 7
May 5, 2013
Just a PEEK
Here are a two items that will be for sale for a limited time, in honors of the release of The Chosen Chronicles: Risen on May 24, 2013... (Formerly The Chosen Series: Fallen) I won't have these listed for very long and they are on a first come first serve basis! Check out the SWAG SHOP for more info!
April 19, 2013
a Peek into Heat and Murder
Prologue
Her
scream was smothered by the greasy rag stuffed in her mouth. She
stared down through bleary eyes at the man standing inches from her
naked body. Her stomach clenched as her blood dripped from the knife
in his hand. Pain rocketed through every nerve in her body.
She
whimpered as he placed the knife against her skin and drew it
downward. White hot pained blurred her vision. A wicked smiled
curved on his lips as he moved the knife to her side and began to
slice away chunks of her skin. She tried to move away but the chains
that had her suspended above the floor refused to budge. Everything
grew gray around the edges as her heartbeat began to slow. It was
almost over and she prayed her death would come swiftly. The pain was
beginning to fade and she felt strangely numb.
He
held the knife between her bare breasts and slid it down to her
navel. All she could feel was the knife moving against her skin,
there was no pain. She could feel pressure at other points of her
body as he continued to carve into her. Her breaths were growing
shallow and finally she gasped one last time.
He
watched as all the tension left her body. Blood trickled from the
corner of her mouth as her chin sagged against her chest. Gently he
placed the knife on the table and turned to admire his art work. Then
turning he picked up a picture and put a bloody x over the
dead girls picture.
“Another
one down,” he whispered.
Chapter
1
With
an exasperated sigh Cam kicked the blankets from her sweat dampened
body and stared at the dark ceiling. Why did she come back? Was she
glutton for punishment? She closed her eyes and the word “failure”
flashed bright red against her eyelids. The driving need to be on her
own was what pushed her to run to Seattle in the first place.
Groaning,
she flounced onto her belly and angrily punched her pillow. Camellia
Jane Boudreaux remembered all too well the elated feeling of freedom
as she drove away from her aunt and uncle’s house the day after
graduation, six years ago. Bound and determined to make something of
herself, she refused to look back. She was going to make it in
Seattle weather it killed her or not.
Once
she had settled into her tiny apartment, she decided that it was time
for a change; new town, new apartment, and a whole new look. So
before she lost her nerve she found the nearest beauty shop and
sheered her waist length black hair off into to a stylish pixie cut
that spiked out in every which direction. That, mixed with her small
height of five foot two, left her looking the epitome of an impish
little elf who relished in mischief.
Other
acts of rebellion included several piercings; a tiny nose stud, a
belly button ring, and a bar bell through her tongue. She knew it
would drive her aunt and uncle crazy so she enjoyed each and every
painful moment of it. Her final act of rebellion included a tattoo,
but as it often does, one small tattoo lead to more, each one meant
something special to her and each one could be covered or uncovered
at her discretion. The largest one was the trail of brightly colored
stars that started at her tail bone and spiraled up her spinal column
to the base of her neck. Her favorite tattoo, however, was the pair
of bright red lips on her right butt cheek. That tattoo she’d
gotten especially for her aunt and uncle.
The
first five years in Seattle had gone smoothly. She worked for a major
fashion designer, learning the ins and outs of the business she loved
so much. She went to design school and she’d even been in a
somewhat serious relationship, but at the beginning of the sixth
year, everything started to go downhill in a hurry.
Not
wanting to focus on her failures and completely giving up on sleep,
Cam threw her bare legs over the edge of the bed and kicked them back
and forth. She wondered if being homeless in Seattle was preferable
to being stuck in the overly large yet ironically tiny house. In
fact, she was fairly certain the pits of hell would be more
preferable than, at the age of twenty four, moving back in with the
only two people on the face of the planet who possessed the power to
continually make her feel as if she were two years old again. Yet
here she was, a day after her arrival and already having suffered
through a chorus of "I told you so’s", disapproving
glares and the overly dramatic titters and flutters from her aunt.
Cam smiled into the shadows smugly. The horrified look on their
faces, as they opened the front door and found her standing on the
porch, had been worth it.
As
she sat staring at her feet, she remembered the constant berating by
her uncle as she grew up. It had been his self appointed duty to make
sure she knew on a daily basis how stupid she was and how she would
never amount to anything, while her aunt stood by soaking her
problems in a bottomless glass of southern comfort.
She
never truly felt at home in their house. It was only by circumstance
that placed her there in the first place. Her parent’s death had
completely turned her world upside down. The papers called it an
accident, but she was never able to shake the feeling that there was
more to it. Therefore she was placed in custody of David and Jeann
Savoi at the age of twelve. David was her father’s brother and he’d
begrudgingly taken her in.
The
only bright spot in her life while she was growing up had been Lucky
Jackson, her best friend. The boy she’d tagged after when she was a
little girl and then later as a teenager fell hopelessly in love
with. She would watch from the sidelines as Lucky began to date at
the age of sixteen. Even though she was only twelve she still wished
it was her that he would hold hands with. She remembered once,
seeing him behind the bleachers at a football game with a buxom
blond. Cam remained in the shadows and watched Lucky kiss the other
girl. The blond was pinned between the wall and his body as one of
his hands groped at the front of her shirt. She watched as Lucky
slipped his free hand down the front of the girl’s shorts. Cam had
been intrigued as she watched the other girl pant and moan and rotate
her hips against his moving hand. The blond had caressed the front
of Lucky’s jeans. She also remembered all to well the way her own
body reacted, and the way she felt flush with an unfamiliar
excitement.
It
was after that incident that Cam quickly learned, from one of her
friends, what sex and making out was about. As the years passed she
tried to gain Lucky’s attention with but he never seemed to see her
in that kind of light. They would still hang out from time to time
and while she silently prayed he would kiss her or hold her hand or
make some kind of romantic gesture towards her, she was always left
disappointed. One day, before her fifteenth birthday, they’d been
playing touch football in the rain and he’d playfully tackled her.
He’d fallen on top of her and for a moment, she thought he’d
finally seen her. Something had passed behind his eyes but it had
vanished quickly. Then moronically she’d blurted “I love you.”
He pulled her to her feet and had laughed replying, “I love you
too kid.” It was a gesture from an older brother and nothing more.
As
time passed she began to date other guys, at times trying to make him
jealous but it never seemed to work. Slowly she and Lucky began to
drift apart, hanging out less and less. But she always held out a
little hope that one day Lucky would finally see her. When she was
sixteen, Lucky graduated and went to the police academy in
Shreveport, leaving her completely alone. She never realized how
much their lives were intertwined until he left, forcing her to make
new friends. It took a long time but she was finally able to get
over him and move on with the rest of high school.
Lucky
returned two weeks before her graduation and when she saw him for the
first time in three years, and all the feelings she thought had
disappeared suddenly resurfaced. They picked up almost exactly where
they’d left off, only this time she’d learned a thing or two
about men, so she didn’t try as hard to grab his attention, even
though she wanted to. They spent nearly every day together laughing
like old times. The two of them had grown almost inseparable. Then
everything changed between them graduation night, and then she’d
left for Seattle.
Cam
swallowed past the growing lump in her throat and refused to think
any further about that night. Four long years had passed since she
last talked to Lucky, and she wondered if he was even still in Willow
Bend. Would she see him again? Did he even want to see her? Was he
married? Did he have a family?
Questions
without answers swarmed in her head like an angry hive of bees.
Resolute to the fact that she was not going to get any sleep, she
slid from the bed and walked to the balcony just outside of her
bedroom. The oppressing August humidity greeted her and instantly
she felt like she was drinking water as she breathed. She was
thankful for the warm breeze, even though it did nothing but stir the
heat around. She leaned on the rail and stared out into the moonless
night. Cicadas and frogs hummed and croaked, together creating a
night symphony. She took a deep breath and as much as she hated to
admit it, a part of her loved Louisiana. The music, the food, and the
friends made it all seem worth while.
There
were no lights around, except for the single street light on the
garage across the yard. There were no neighbors because her aunt and
uncle lived in a two story plantation style home in the middle of no
one freaking cares Louisiana, on a small tobacco plantation. Cam
scanned the yard once more and finally decided she was far enough
from civilization for anyone to give a fig about what clothing she
wore. She lifted the hem of her tank top over her head, exposing her
skin to the night and leaving her in nothing but black lace boy
shorts. The warm breeze touched her dampened skin, cooling it
slightly. She leaned a hip against the railing and took another deep
cleansing breath.
Several long moments
passed as she enjoyed the night, then suddenly the tiny hairs on the
back of her neck stood on end. Something about the night changed.
She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched. Quickly
she pulled her shirt back over her head just as she heard the faint
sound. She held her breath and listened as she slowly backed into the
shadows of her room. The sound vanished and the only thing she could
hear was her heartbeat as it throbbed in her ears. Before closing
the double doors to the balcony she squinted into the darkness once
more. Unable to see anything she threw the bolt on the doors. The
sound of the lock sliding home seemed to echo through her room. Had
someone really been out there watching her? She shivered, despite the
heat and climbed into bed. Perhaps it was just an animal, but her
mind refused to believe it. Something told her that whatever had
been hiding the shadows was definitely not an animal.
----------
"Get
up young lady. You ain’t gonna to lay about in de bed all de time.
If you’re gonna live under my roof you’re gonna get a job, and
dats de truth," David Savoi’s thick Cajun accent boomed from
the other side of the bedroom door.
Cam
rolled over and looked at the clock. The blue digits read six thirty
two. "You’ve got to be kidding me?" She groaned, pulling
a pillow over her head.
David
pounded on the door so hard the hinges groaned in protest. "If
you ain’t out of dat bed in five minutes I’ll drag you out by dat
mess you call hair," he bellowed.
"I’m
up, keep your pants on," Cam yelled back at him. She sat up and
rubbed the sleep from her eyes but her uncle’s persistent pounding
continued.
"Don’t
get dat attitude with me young’un. You ain’t too old for me to
take a strap to you, you ungrateful whelp.”
"You
can try," she said softly. She listened as his heavy footsteps
disappeared down the hall before finally hauling herself out of bed.
She dumped the contents on her suitcase on the bed and began to
rummage through what clothing she hadn’t sold for money. She
finally settled on a pair of white shorts and a tie-dyed fuchsia and
purple halter top.
Cam
shuffled into the bathroom and after brushing her teeth and washing
her face she applied eye liner and mascara. Then she quickly dampened
her hands and ran her fingers through her hair, making a neat mess.
She looked in the full length mirror and turned so she could see her
back, making sure her trail of stars tattoo was fully visible. She
knew her aunt and uncle would hate it and that thought gave her an
immense amount of pleasure. On her way out the door she slipped on a
pair of hot pink flip flops and made her way down to breakfast, her
shoes loudly slapping her feet with each step.
Cam
sipped her coffee at the iron patio set as she browsed the newspaper
for help wanted ads. It was barely seven in the morning and the heat
was already rising, but the umbrella in the middle of the table
offered shade. A gentle breeze sent the early morning smell of the
garden drifting lazily around her. Humming birds flew from one
blossom to another as bees buzzed in the roses nearby. The flower
garden was surrounded on three sides by eight foot rock walls covered
with deep green ivy. A small coy pod and a water fall sat nestled in
one corner. Lily pads spotted the water while cattails stood proudly
at the side. The gurgling waterfall gave a false sense of peace.
Everything was perfect inside the walls of her garden and as long as
she stayed nothing from out there could hurt her. Because of its
seclusion, the garden had always been her favorite place to escape
to. Her aunt never ventured to far outside because her perfectly
quaffed hair would frizz, or so she had said on numerous occasions.
Therefore, Cam was the only one who used the garden, which was fine
by her. She flipped through the pages when a bold headline caught
her attention.
Bayou
Butcher still at large:
Local
authorities report the body of twenty four year old Wendy Stevenson
was discovered by local fisherman late Tuesday night. The fishermen
stated he found the victim tangled in one of his crab traps. The
victim was found six miles south of highway 12. Stevenson was
reported missing early last week by her sister. If you have any
information that may help in the investigation please call 911 or
your local police department. Until the Butcher is apprehended a city
wide curfew is in affect. Curfew will go into affect at six o’clock
in the evening and last until six o’clock in the morning, and will
be strictly enforced.
Cam
closed the newspaper and tapped a finger against the black ink. Why
did that name sound familiar? A knot of dread formed in the pit of
her stomach. Something didn’t feel right but she just couldn’t
place her finger on what it was. Then her thoughts turned to the
night before and the feeling that she was being watched. Chills crept
down her spine. Pushing that thought to the back of her mind she
looked at her watch and sighed. If she was going to find a job, she
figured it would be better to actually leave the house.
“Sho
is glad ta see ya back ‘ere young’un,” came a husky female
voice from behind her. Cam started a little and whirled around.
“Lily,”
she said as she flew into the old black woman’s arms. She fought
the urge to cry as the woman folded her into a motherly embrace,
stroking her hair. Lily hugged her tightly to her large form. Cam
sighed; it felt good to be hugged again by someone who really meant
it. Finally she gave in and began to sob into the woman’s apron
front.
“Hush
now chile. Always does look worse a’fore a storm. Den you know
what’appens?” She didn’t wait for Cam to reply. “Dat dare sky
light’ens up and it’s the purtiest shade of blue ya never did
see. You gonna be jus fine honey chile.” Lily held Cam out away
from her and clucked her tongue loudly. “Let me look at’cha,”
she said. She did a little twirl and Lily clucked loudly.
“Didn’t
dey feed you up dere? Chile you ain’t nuthin but skin an bones.”
“I
ate.”
“Shut
up you and sit dat lil tail back in dat chair. Lily’s gonna bring
you sumtin ta eat.” Before Cam could protest, Lily spun on her
flat soled shoes and bustled back into the house. She wasn’t gone
long before reappearing carrying a tray piled high with food. Cam’s
mouth watered as the fragrant southern cooking wafted through the air
and surrounded her. Lily sat the tray in front of her.
“Eat.”
The demand was firm but gentle and Cam picked up the fork and dug in
with fervor. She groaned with delight as the first bite hit her
tongue. She quickly swallowed the andouille sausage and picked up a
fresh beignet. The sweet dough and powder sugar melted on her tongue
and she smiled. “I’ve missed your cooking Lily,” she said
around a mouth full of food. She poured another cup of coffee.
“Gurl,
don talk with yor mouth full. I don taught you better’an dat.”
Cam
swallowed. “Yes’m.”
“Dats
my gurl. Now tell me what don gone an brought you back’ere?”
Completely
at ease with the woman who practically raised and helped her through
some tough teen years, she launched into her story about Seattle, and
she had to admit it finally felt good to talk about it and get it out
in the open. Lily listened with rapt attention, only interjecting
her opinions ever so often. After she finished four cups of coffee
and her story she looked down at her watch and flinched. It was
nearly eight thirty. Cam stood from the wrought iron patio chair and
moved around the table to where she dropped a kiss on Lily’s cheek.
“I’ve
got to go and see if I can find a job,” she said.
“Dat’s
fine but don think we done talk’n bout you an all dat mess you done
gone and did to yer body,” Lily said.
“Love
you,” Cam called over her shoulder. She smiled when she heard a few
colorful Cajun words followed by a “Love you too chile.”
She
walked to the front drive and unlocked her aunt’s expensive car.
Jeann had agreed to the use of her car if Cam promised to bring back
a fifth of her favorite drink. She slid into the leather seat of the
jaguar and immediately pushed the button to release to top. Slowly
the canvas folded neatly behind the back seat. After spending six
years in a state that stayed wet the majority of the year, it felt
good to feel the sun. Even though she knew it would be unbearably hot
in a few short hours. The engine purred to life and she pulled her
big sunglasses over her face. She sped out of the driveway, spewing
gravel in all directions.
As
she flipped through the radio stations a bulletin on the Bayou
Butcher came on. It was the same report the newspaper had given.
Cam
groaned. She flipped the station and settled on her favorite rock
station. The Bayou Butcher didn’t have anything to do with her, so
why should she worry about it?
Her
scream was smothered by the greasy rag stuffed in her mouth. She
stared down through bleary eyes at the man standing inches from her
naked body. Her stomach clenched as her blood dripped from the knife
in his hand. Pain rocketed through every nerve in her body.
She
whimpered as he placed the knife against her skin and drew it
downward. White hot pained blurred her vision. A wicked smiled
curved on his lips as he moved the knife to her side and began to
slice away chunks of her skin. She tried to move away but the chains
that had her suspended above the floor refused to budge. Everything
grew gray around the edges as her heartbeat began to slow. It was
almost over and she prayed her death would come swiftly. The pain was
beginning to fade and she felt strangely numb.
He
held the knife between her bare breasts and slid it down to her
navel. All she could feel was the knife moving against her skin,
there was no pain. She could feel pressure at other points of her
body as he continued to carve into her. Her breaths were growing
shallow and finally she gasped one last time.
He
watched as all the tension left her body. Blood trickled from the
corner of her mouth as her chin sagged against her chest. Gently he
placed the knife on the table and turned to admire his art work. Then
turning he picked up a picture and put a bloody x over the
dead girls picture.
“Another
one down,” he whispered.
Chapter
1
With
an exasperated sigh Cam kicked the blankets from her sweat dampened
body and stared at the dark ceiling. Why did she come back? Was she
glutton for punishment? She closed her eyes and the word “failure”
flashed bright red against her eyelids. The driving need to be on her
own was what pushed her to run to Seattle in the first place.
Groaning,
she flounced onto her belly and angrily punched her pillow. Camellia
Jane Boudreaux remembered all too well the elated feeling of freedom
as she drove away from her aunt and uncle’s house the day after
graduation, six years ago. Bound and determined to make something of
herself, she refused to look back. She was going to make it in
Seattle weather it killed her or not.
Once
she had settled into her tiny apartment, she decided that it was time
for a change; new town, new apartment, and a whole new look. So
before she lost her nerve she found the nearest beauty shop and
sheered her waist length black hair off into to a stylish pixie cut
that spiked out in every which direction. That, mixed with her small
height of five foot two, left her looking the epitome of an impish
little elf who relished in mischief.
Other
acts of rebellion included several piercings; a tiny nose stud, a
belly button ring, and a bar bell through her tongue. She knew it
would drive her aunt and uncle crazy so she enjoyed each and every
painful moment of it. Her final act of rebellion included a tattoo,
but as it often does, one small tattoo lead to more, each one meant
something special to her and each one could be covered or uncovered
at her discretion. The largest one was the trail of brightly colored
stars that started at her tail bone and spiraled up her spinal column
to the base of her neck. Her favorite tattoo, however, was the pair
of bright red lips on her right butt cheek. That tattoo she’d
gotten especially for her aunt and uncle.
The
first five years in Seattle had gone smoothly. She worked for a major
fashion designer, learning the ins and outs of the business she loved
so much. She went to design school and she’d even been in a
somewhat serious relationship, but at the beginning of the sixth
year, everything started to go downhill in a hurry.
Not
wanting to focus on her failures and completely giving up on sleep,
Cam threw her bare legs over the edge of the bed and kicked them back
and forth. She wondered if being homeless in Seattle was preferable
to being stuck in the overly large yet ironically tiny house. In
fact, she was fairly certain the pits of hell would be more
preferable than, at the age of twenty four, moving back in with the
only two people on the face of the planet who possessed the power to
continually make her feel as if she were two years old again. Yet
here she was, a day after her arrival and already having suffered
through a chorus of "I told you so’s", disapproving
glares and the overly dramatic titters and flutters from her aunt.
Cam smiled into the shadows smugly. The horrified look on their
faces, as they opened the front door and found her standing on the
porch, had been worth it.
As
she sat staring at her feet, she remembered the constant berating by
her uncle as she grew up. It had been his self appointed duty to make
sure she knew on a daily basis how stupid she was and how she would
never amount to anything, while her aunt stood by soaking her
problems in a bottomless glass of southern comfort.
She
never truly felt at home in their house. It was only by circumstance
that placed her there in the first place. Her parent’s death had
completely turned her world upside down. The papers called it an
accident, but she was never able to shake the feeling that there was
more to it. Therefore she was placed in custody of David and Jeann
Savoi at the age of twelve. David was her father’s brother and he’d
begrudgingly taken her in.
The
only bright spot in her life while she was growing up had been Lucky
Jackson, her best friend. The boy she’d tagged after when she was a
little girl and then later as a teenager fell hopelessly in love
with. She would watch from the sidelines as Lucky began to date at
the age of sixteen. Even though she was only twelve she still wished
it was her that he would hold hands with. She remembered once,
seeing him behind the bleachers at a football game with a buxom
blond. Cam remained in the shadows and watched Lucky kiss the other
girl. The blond was pinned between the wall and his body as one of
his hands groped at the front of her shirt. She watched as Lucky
slipped his free hand down the front of the girl’s shorts. Cam had
been intrigued as she watched the other girl pant and moan and rotate
her hips against his moving hand. The blond had caressed the front
of Lucky’s jeans. She also remembered all to well the way her own
body reacted, and the way she felt flush with an unfamiliar
excitement.
It
was after that incident that Cam quickly learned, from one of her
friends, what sex and making out was about. As the years passed she
tried to gain Lucky’s attention with but he never seemed to see her
in that kind of light. They would still hang out from time to time
and while she silently prayed he would kiss her or hold her hand or
make some kind of romantic gesture towards her, she was always left
disappointed. One day, before her fifteenth birthday, they’d been
playing touch football in the rain and he’d playfully tackled her.
He’d fallen on top of her and for a moment, she thought he’d
finally seen her. Something had passed behind his eyes but it had
vanished quickly. Then moronically she’d blurted “I love you.”
He pulled her to her feet and had laughed replying, “I love you
too kid.” It was a gesture from an older brother and nothing more.
As
time passed she began to date other guys, at times trying to make him
jealous but it never seemed to work. Slowly she and Lucky began to
drift apart, hanging out less and less. But she always held out a
little hope that one day Lucky would finally see her. When she was
sixteen, Lucky graduated and went to the police academy in
Shreveport, leaving her completely alone. She never realized how
much their lives were intertwined until he left, forcing her to make
new friends. It took a long time but she was finally able to get
over him and move on with the rest of high school.
Lucky
returned two weeks before her graduation and when she saw him for the
first time in three years, and all the feelings she thought had
disappeared suddenly resurfaced. They picked up almost exactly where
they’d left off, only this time she’d learned a thing or two
about men, so she didn’t try as hard to grab his attention, even
though she wanted to. They spent nearly every day together laughing
like old times. The two of them had grown almost inseparable. Then
everything changed between them graduation night, and then she’d
left for Seattle.
Cam
swallowed past the growing lump in her throat and refused to think
any further about that night. Four long years had passed since she
last talked to Lucky, and she wondered if he was even still in Willow
Bend. Would she see him again? Did he even want to see her? Was he
married? Did he have a family?
Questions
without answers swarmed in her head like an angry hive of bees.
Resolute to the fact that she was not going to get any sleep, she
slid from the bed and walked to the balcony just outside of her
bedroom. The oppressing August humidity greeted her and instantly
she felt like she was drinking water as she breathed. She was
thankful for the warm breeze, even though it did nothing but stir the
heat around. She leaned on the rail and stared out into the moonless
night. Cicadas and frogs hummed and croaked, together creating a
night symphony. She took a deep breath and as much as she hated to
admit it, a part of her loved Louisiana. The music, the food, and the
friends made it all seem worth while.
There
were no lights around, except for the single street light on the
garage across the yard. There were no neighbors because her aunt and
uncle lived in a two story plantation style home in the middle of no
one freaking cares Louisiana, on a small tobacco plantation. Cam
scanned the yard once more and finally decided she was far enough
from civilization for anyone to give a fig about what clothing she
wore. She lifted the hem of her tank top over her head, exposing her
skin to the night and leaving her in nothing but black lace boy
shorts. The warm breeze touched her dampened skin, cooling it
slightly. She leaned a hip against the railing and took another deep
cleansing breath.
Several long moments
passed as she enjoyed the night, then suddenly the tiny hairs on the
back of her neck stood on end. Something about the night changed.
She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched. Quickly
she pulled her shirt back over her head just as she heard the faint
sound. She held her breath and listened as she slowly backed into the
shadows of her room. The sound vanished and the only thing she could
hear was her heartbeat as it throbbed in her ears. Before closing
the double doors to the balcony she squinted into the darkness once
more. Unable to see anything she threw the bolt on the doors. The
sound of the lock sliding home seemed to echo through her room. Had
someone really been out there watching her? She shivered, despite the
heat and climbed into bed. Perhaps it was just an animal, but her
mind refused to believe it. Something told her that whatever had
been hiding the shadows was definitely not an animal.
----------
"Get
up young lady. You ain’t gonna to lay about in de bed all de time.
If you’re gonna live under my roof you’re gonna get a job, and
dats de truth," David Savoi’s thick Cajun accent boomed from
the other side of the bedroom door.
Cam
rolled over and looked at the clock. The blue digits read six thirty
two. "You’ve got to be kidding me?" She groaned, pulling
a pillow over her head.
David
pounded on the door so hard the hinges groaned in protest. "If
you ain’t out of dat bed in five minutes I’ll drag you out by dat
mess you call hair," he bellowed.
"I’m
up, keep your pants on," Cam yelled back at him. She sat up and
rubbed the sleep from her eyes but her uncle’s persistent pounding
continued.
"Don’t
get dat attitude with me young’un. You ain’t too old for me to
take a strap to you, you ungrateful whelp.”
"You
can try," she said softly. She listened as his heavy footsteps
disappeared down the hall before finally hauling herself out of bed.
She dumped the contents on her suitcase on the bed and began to
rummage through what clothing she hadn’t sold for money. She
finally settled on a pair of white shorts and a tie-dyed fuchsia and
purple halter top.
Cam
shuffled into the bathroom and after brushing her teeth and washing
her face she applied eye liner and mascara. Then she quickly dampened
her hands and ran her fingers through her hair, making a neat mess.
She looked in the full length mirror and turned so she could see her
back, making sure her trail of stars tattoo was fully visible. She
knew her aunt and uncle would hate it and that thought gave her an
immense amount of pleasure. On her way out the door she slipped on a
pair of hot pink flip flops and made her way down to breakfast, her
shoes loudly slapping her feet with each step.
Cam
sipped her coffee at the iron patio set as she browsed the newspaper
for help wanted ads. It was barely seven in the morning and the heat
was already rising, but the umbrella in the middle of the table
offered shade. A gentle breeze sent the early morning smell of the
garden drifting lazily around her. Humming birds flew from one
blossom to another as bees buzzed in the roses nearby. The flower
garden was surrounded on three sides by eight foot rock walls covered
with deep green ivy. A small coy pod and a water fall sat nestled in
one corner. Lily pads spotted the water while cattails stood proudly
at the side. The gurgling waterfall gave a false sense of peace.
Everything was perfect inside the walls of her garden and as long as
she stayed nothing from out there could hurt her. Because of its
seclusion, the garden had always been her favorite place to escape
to. Her aunt never ventured to far outside because her perfectly
quaffed hair would frizz, or so she had said on numerous occasions.
Therefore, Cam was the only one who used the garden, which was fine
by her. She flipped through the pages when a bold headline caught
her attention.
Bayou
Butcher still at large:
Local
authorities report the body of twenty four year old Wendy Stevenson
was discovered by local fisherman late Tuesday night. The fishermen
stated he found the victim tangled in one of his crab traps. The
victim was found six miles south of highway 12. Stevenson was
reported missing early last week by her sister. If you have any
information that may help in the investigation please call 911 or
your local police department. Until the Butcher is apprehended a city
wide curfew is in affect. Curfew will go into affect at six o’clock
in the evening and last until six o’clock in the morning, and will
be strictly enforced.
Cam
closed the newspaper and tapped a finger against the black ink. Why
did that name sound familiar? A knot of dread formed in the pit of
her stomach. Something didn’t feel right but she just couldn’t
place her finger on what it was. Then her thoughts turned to the
night before and the feeling that she was being watched. Chills crept
down her spine. Pushing that thought to the back of her mind she
looked at her watch and sighed. If she was going to find a job, she
figured it would be better to actually leave the house.
“Sho
is glad ta see ya back ‘ere young’un,” came a husky female
voice from behind her. Cam started a little and whirled around.
“Lily,”
she said as she flew into the old black woman’s arms. She fought
the urge to cry as the woman folded her into a motherly embrace,
stroking her hair. Lily hugged her tightly to her large form. Cam
sighed; it felt good to be hugged again by someone who really meant
it. Finally she gave in and began to sob into the woman’s apron
front.
“Hush
now chile. Always does look worse a’fore a storm. Den you know
what’appens?” She didn’t wait for Cam to reply. “Dat dare sky
light’ens up and it’s the purtiest shade of blue ya never did
see. You gonna be jus fine honey chile.” Lily held Cam out away
from her and clucked her tongue loudly. “Let me look at’cha,”
she said. She did a little twirl and Lily clucked loudly.
“Didn’t
dey feed you up dere? Chile you ain’t nuthin but skin an bones.”
“I
ate.”
“Shut
up you and sit dat lil tail back in dat chair. Lily’s gonna bring
you sumtin ta eat.” Before Cam could protest, Lily spun on her
flat soled shoes and bustled back into the house. She wasn’t gone
long before reappearing carrying a tray piled high with food. Cam’s
mouth watered as the fragrant southern cooking wafted through the air
and surrounded her. Lily sat the tray in front of her.
“Eat.”
The demand was firm but gentle and Cam picked up the fork and dug in
with fervor. She groaned with delight as the first bite hit her
tongue. She quickly swallowed the andouille sausage and picked up a
fresh beignet. The sweet dough and powder sugar melted on her tongue
and she smiled. “I’ve missed your cooking Lily,” she said
around a mouth full of food. She poured another cup of coffee.
“Gurl,
don talk with yor mouth full. I don taught you better’an dat.”
Cam
swallowed. “Yes’m.”
“Dats
my gurl. Now tell me what don gone an brought you back’ere?”
Completely
at ease with the woman who practically raised and helped her through
some tough teen years, she launched into her story about Seattle, and
she had to admit it finally felt good to talk about it and get it out
in the open. Lily listened with rapt attention, only interjecting
her opinions ever so often. After she finished four cups of coffee
and her story she looked down at her watch and flinched. It was
nearly eight thirty. Cam stood from the wrought iron patio chair and
moved around the table to where she dropped a kiss on Lily’s cheek.
“I’ve
got to go and see if I can find a job,” she said.
“Dat’s
fine but don think we done talk’n bout you an all dat mess you done
gone and did to yer body,” Lily said.
“Love
you,” Cam called over her shoulder. She smiled when she heard a few
colorful Cajun words followed by a “Love you too chile.”
She
walked to the front drive and unlocked her aunt’s expensive car.
Jeann had agreed to the use of her car if Cam promised to bring back
a fifth of her favorite drink. She slid into the leather seat of the
jaguar and immediately pushed the button to release to top. Slowly
the canvas folded neatly behind the back seat. After spending six
years in a state that stayed wet the majority of the year, it felt
good to feel the sun. Even though she knew it would be unbearably hot
in a few short hours. The engine purred to life and she pulled her
big sunglasses over her face. She sped out of the driveway, spewing
gravel in all directions.
As
she flipped through the radio stations a bulletin on the Bayou
Butcher came on. It was the same report the newspaper had given.
Cam
groaned. She flipped the station and settled on her favorite rock
station. The Bayou Butcher didn’t have anything to do with her, so
why should she worry about it?
Some more stuff from long ago
I Only
I only laugh so they can't see,
So they can't see the pain in me.
I only bleed inside my chest,
Inside my chest their lies the
rest;
of my heart that is shattered into,
Shattered into pieces without you.
DARKNESS
The night wind howls, the
darkness growls, the cold mists swirl around me,
I feel the eyes in
darkened night, the ones I can not see.
Darkness hangs around,
casting her shroud on everything she may dare,
Somewhere nearby a
tortured cry cuts through the stench filled air.
Good bye cruel night I no
longer fight the things I cannot see,
It is not you I fear nor
sounds I hear but the shadows that live with in me!
April 12, 2013
**SPOILER WARNING***
***SPOILER ALERT***
I just wanted to let everyone know that I will be leaving up the RAW SPOTLIGHT with Dr. Brant Church, and the Nephilim Diaries segments I've been doing. These are character interviews from the Chosen Chronicles (Formerly known as The Chosen Series) .... These interviews and/or the Diary Entries may give away events and such of the entire series. So, read at your own risk! Dr. Brand and I tried to keep most of the interviews vague, and while you'll have to read the books to under the full extent of the interviews, I just want to be sure and warn everyone.
I just wanted to let everyone know that I will be leaving up the RAW SPOTLIGHT with Dr. Brant Church, and the Nephilim Diaries segments I've been doing. These are character interviews from the Chosen Chronicles (Formerly known as The Chosen Series) .... These interviews and/or the Diary Entries may give away events and such of the entire series. So, read at your own risk! Dr. Brand and I tried to keep most of the interviews vague, and while you'll have to read the books to under the full extent of the interviews, I just want to be sure and warn everyone.
Must see Angel movies
Following with my theme of angels, considering my series has a lot to do with them, I decided to go through and list some of my faves. I hope you enjoy and if you feel froggy, check them out.
RELEASE YEAR 2007
The film Gabriel reveals the battle between good and evil and the fight
for the human soul. Set in a dark, dreary purgatory, there is a struggle
between Arc and Fallen angels for control over the city of vice,
violence and cruelty, and its population of re-born souls. At present,
darkness rules and Gabriel, the last of seven Arcs sent to return the
light, must assume a human form for the first time to wrestle the
midworld away from the hands of the lead fallen angel 'Sammael' and his
task force of gun toting followers. Gabriel is young, strong an the
mightiest warrior since Michael, his predecessor, who has disappeared.
Sammael's victory is assured throughout the film, as Gabriel plays into
his hands, falling prey to human emotions, by tracking down and healing
the broken Arc angels, including the lost angel "Jade" who has turned to
drugs and vice to get by. All Arc's before him have failed in their
mission. Just when you think its getting good for Gabriel, Sammael has
one last card to play: the secret of his own past, the knowledge of
which could destroy Gabriel forever. In the darkest places of the human
soul, this lone arc angel's battle with his human feelings and emotions
will prove as perilous as facing the Fallen. (Synopsis from the IMDb site)
*****My personal thoughts and MY OPINIONS on this movie****
I
try not to put much stock in reviewers or the 'professional' critics of
movies, simply because what they like, usually, isn't the same as what I like. And more times than not, if a movie does well or bad as the case may be, with Rotten Tomatoes ,
it is likely a movie I will watch. This was the case with Gabriel. I
thought this movie was great, though it has been a while since I've seen
it, i remember it. It's dark and gritty and I loved it. It didn't
have a high budge for production, but I thought it was put together
beautifully, and told a stunning story with a twist I never saw coming!
:-) I recommend this
movie and will be revisiting it very soon.
RELEASE YEAR 2005
John Constantine is approached by Det. Angela Dodson who needs his help to prove that her twin sister Isabel's death was not a suicide. The dead
woman was a devout Catholic and Angela refuses to accept that she would
have taken her own life. She's asked Constantine for help because he
has a reputation for dealing with the mystical. In fact, he is a demon
hunter whose sole purpose on Earth is to send demons back to the nether
regions. John himself has been to Hell - as a young man he too committed
suicide and now knows that he is destined to return there on his death -
but hopes that his good deeds may somehow find him a place in Heaven.
As he looks into Isabel's death, he realizes that demons are trying to
break through to the human world and his battles lead him into a direct
conflict with Satan.
Written by
garykmcd
***Though it has been years since I've seen this movie, I distinctly remember liking it very well. The cinematography was beautifully composed with dynamic shots and colors. The concept was truly unique.
RELEASE YEAR 1996
Frank Quinlan and Huey Driscoll, two reporters from a Chicago-based
tabloid, along with Dorothy Winters, an 'angel expert', are asked to
travel to rural Iowa to investigate a claim from an old woman that she
shares her house with a real, live archangel named Michael. Upon
arrival, they see that her claims are true - but Michael is not what
they expected: he smokes, drinks beer, has a very active libido and has a
rather colourful vocabulary. In fact, they would never believe it were
it not for the two feathery wings protruding from his back. Michael
agrees to travel to Chicago with the threesome, but what they don't
realise is that the journey they are about to undertake will change
their lives forever.
Written by
Jonathan Broxton <j.w.broxton@sheffield.ac.uk>
***Personally, this is my all time fave movie, but then again, in my opinion, you can't really go wrong with anything that John Travolta is in. I mean seriously, he is right up there with my rabid love of all things Johnny Depp. BUT ANYHOW, that is a different post for a different day! This movie is a sweet tale of redemption, love, and loss. John puts an interesting spin on the Michael and frankly, I've not seen this done anywhere else. It has
moments that will make you laugh and some that may make you tear up just
a touch. This film help inspire some of the attributes of a few
characters in my series. This is BY FAR my all time favorite angel
movie, and I truly suggest this oldie but goodie.
RELEASE YEAR 2009
An out-of-the-way diner becomes the unlikely battleground for the
survival of the human race. When God loses faith in humankind, he sends
his legion of angels to bring on the Apocalypse. Humanity's only hope
lies in a group of strangers trapped in a desert diner with the
Archangel Michael (Bettany).
Written by
Anonymous
God loses faith in mankind and orders Angel Michael in addition to a
legion of other angels to bring the Apocalypse to Earth and exterminate
the human race. However, Michael rebels against the order and decides to
help the humans. Meanwhile in a diner in the middle of nowhere, Bob
Hanson, runs the place with his son Jeep, a pregnant waitress, Charlie,
and his friend Percy Walker. Their customers, the Anderson family, are
stranded until Jeep can fix their BMW and lonely Kyle Williams who is
lost.
Written by
Claudio Carvalho, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil
This is a great movie if you like the shoot'em up kind with monsters and some slightly disturbing images. Check it out, it's rather interesting!
I hope you enjoyed my thoughts and selections! If you have any of your own feel free to suggest some or leave comments below :)
April 3, 2013
Freak Arts Expo
Okay my lovely people, its time to show some support! This is an amazing cause and a fun way to raise money. There will be so many fun and exciting things going on it'll be hard to contain the excitement. Pssst and if you wanna know a secret... I'll be there signing books, along with a couple of my other author friends. So come on down and check it out and have a blast. There will be LIVE MUSIC from eight different bands; various vendors; Inked contest and much more. Let your FREAK FLAG fly for Breast Cancer Awareness!!! Below is a little bit of information and a word from the event's founder and creator!
Breast Cancer Fact:
Did you know? About 207,090 new cases of invasive breast cancer will
occur among women in the United States in 2013. An estimated 39,840
women will die from breast cancer this year. Also, about 1,970 men will
be diagnosed and 390 men will die of breast cancer in 2013 in the United
States alone. In addition to invasive breast cancer, an estimated
54,010 new cases of in situ breast cancer will occur among women in
2013!
Do YOUR Part and help us fight this terrible disease and join us at the FREAKS ART EXPO…. To Help us SAVE The Second base!!!
I feel it’s time for us
“FREAKS” to unite together and show others what we can do for an amazing
cause!!! When I first had the idea of
creating an event like this, I thought I should name this event something
personal to me. Since it was in memory of my mother which after some thought, I
remember my mother called me a “Freak” in a joking manner when I did things
that I thought were cool. Since this event is in both Honor and Memory of her
.I felt I had to use it.
https://www.facebook.com/events/153179331500872/?fref=ts
http://www.freakartsexpo.com/
April 1, 2013
Immense Talent
The literary world is booming with new authors. Take it from me, it is not an easy business to jump into. Everyone and their brother thinks their piece is New York Times worthy. Sure, anyone can create a book and sell it on Amazon the next day! This is not a knock on Amazon because that is where I started. It was a great tool in helping me build and create a fan base! I recently signed on with Midnight Hour Publishing! A fantastic company with some truly amazing people. I know this because I'm not treated just randomly. I am talked to, on a human level, and I've found myself quickly growing fond of more than a few members of my new family. I'm not huge on doing blog tours here, not because I don't want too, but because I simply do not have the time to devote my full attention to the authors that they truly deserve.
With that being said, I will, from time to time, host a guest blog and advertise for my new family. These are not just random books/people. These are people I'm getting to know. In the lives that we live most of us encounter people on a daily basis. More times than not, they have the power to influence others; sometimes good and sometimes bad. As I get to know these people, I am learning from them. They are helping with my writing, offering advise, and yes, sometimes stepping up and telling me what I don't really want to hear.
I'm going to introduce a new author here and I'm going to put a link to her first book. Jacquelynn Gagne, in the short time I've known her, has done all of the above for me with a flawless grace that speaks volumes. She is brilliant and very quick witted, not only with her thoughts but with her written word. I've read bits and pieces of her book before it hit the stands and I'm telling you now, I am MORE THAN ANXIOUS to dive into this dude tonight. I just purchased a copy and I encourage all of you to do the same. So follow the link to her book and show her some love! I will be doing a blog tour for her on May 25th so be sure and check back in for that.
http://www.amazon.com/Blood-Rose-The-Saga-ebook/dp/B00C50FKV2/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1364862592&sr=8-1&keywords=Jacquelynn+Gagne
Thanks guys you are all so awesome.
xoxo
Christine
With that being said, I will, from time to time, host a guest blog and advertise for my new family. These are not just random books/people. These are people I'm getting to know. In the lives that we live most of us encounter people on a daily basis. More times than not, they have the power to influence others; sometimes good and sometimes bad. As I get to know these people, I am learning from them. They are helping with my writing, offering advise, and yes, sometimes stepping up and telling me what I don't really want to hear.
I'm going to introduce a new author here and I'm going to put a link to her first book. Jacquelynn Gagne, in the short time I've known her, has done all of the above for me with a flawless grace that speaks volumes. She is brilliant and very quick witted, not only with her thoughts but with her written word. I've read bits and pieces of her book before it hit the stands and I'm telling you now, I am MORE THAN ANXIOUS to dive into this dude tonight. I just purchased a copy and I encourage all of you to do the same. So follow the link to her book and show her some love! I will be doing a blog tour for her on May 25th so be sure and check back in for that.
http://www.amazon.com/Blood-Rose-The-Saga-ebook/dp/B00C50FKV2/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1364862592&sr=8-1&keywords=Jacquelynn+Gagne
Thanks guys you are all so awesome.
xoxo
Christine
Raw Spotlight Interview: Thad
Hey everyone,
I apologize for the delay with the Raw Interviews. Dr. Church was on vacation for a week, and then I had children sick, so we couldn't exactly catch up. Hopefully, you will enjoy this interview. I know I did, and it was very insightful.
I
must say, you’re an extremely difficult man to nail down. Thank you
for finally agreeing to speak with me, Thad.
And
I must say, Dr. Church, you are bloody exhausting. I knew if I didn’t
agree you’d just badger me for eternity.
Let’s
just dive right in, shall we? Why did you decide to hide out, rather
than remain with the other Chosen after everything finally settled
down?
I’ve
always been better suited to solitude. Granted I taught at
University, but I enjoy the time to myself.
You
haven’t always sought solitude, though. You were in fact married,
and then entered into quite a significant relationship with Erin. In
my opinion, that speaks to a deeper need for companionship. Wouldn’t
you agree?
While
that all may be true, you forget, Dr. Church, that I am well over one
thousand years old. From the time my wife died until the time in
which I met Erin, I was alone. I’d not had another love interest
since my beloved.
So
why Erin? What made her irresistible enough to put thoughts of a
relationship back in your mind?
Honestly,
I’m not certain I can answer that fully because I, myself, am not
sure of the entire reasoning. Perhaps it was her naivety and
innocence that pulled me in? I mean she is a stunning creature;
brilliant, cunning, and ruthless when she has to be. Honestly, I
don’t think she sees it. Mayhap that is the reason for it. She
doesn’t know she possesses all of those qualities.
So
it’s safe to say you fell quite deeply in love with her.
Very
much so.
And
yet you walked away without a second glance. That must have been very
difficult.
Hmmm.
. . . What makes you think I didn’t give her a second glance?
Because
you’re here with me and not with her. A man as deeply in love as
you claim to be couldn’t afford to take that second look. Was
Angelo a factor in your decision to cut ties completely?
Sometimes
stepping away from the situation because
you love that person is the best for them. And yes, he was a
contributing factor.
And
if you had it to do all over again, would you?
Depends
on what you are meaning by “it”. If you are referring to the Erin
situation, perhaps I would do it over again—maybe a little
differently. But it’s a curse of who we are. We get to live
indefinitely, wondering about these events. Of all the things we can
do, time travel is not one of them.
Then
let’s look toward the future. Where do you see your path taking you
from here? Are you content enough to relegate yourself to a bunch of
dusty old books, or do you think you may seek out companionship
again?
It’s
hard to say right now. I’ve always found comfort in books of all
sorts. They bring me a certain amount of peace. I will say, however,
that I don’t think I’m going to be actively seeking out anything
or anyone for a long time. And now that you know where I’ve been
keeping myself, I’ll be moving again shortly.
I
take it you prefer anonymity as opposed to the celebrity your
accomplishments have earned you?
Most
definitely. I am uncomfortable with large amounts of attention. I
prefer solitude.
As
you have already mentioned. I wonder then, why you would join on with
the Chosen in the first place. You had to know it would bring you the
unwanted attention so you doggedly try to avoid.
They
needed my help. I’ve known Sable for centuries and when he
approached me, I felt like I had to—no needed
to help. And I owed it to Angelo for helping me once before in the
past. People don’t believe that all that transpired between the
three of us wasn’t done out of malice or simple cruelty. It was
completely unexpected and I do sincerely regret the manner in which
it occurred.
In
speaking separately with both Erin and Angelo, they stated that
everything has been forgiven. Do you get that same sense from them? I
understand you chose to contact them to offer your apologies.
I
did. And I do believe apologies were accepted and forgiveness is in
the works.
It
sounds as though you have everything tied up nicely now. Is that
truly the way of things, or merely what you wish for others to see?
Physically
speaking, yes it has been tied up beautifully. Emotionally. . . .
Well, that’s a different story and only time can truly tell.
Profoundly
put. Shall we leave this interview at that then?
Do
you promise to leave me be? I’m telling you now, Dr. Church, this
will be the last interview you gain from me. If you have any further
questions I suggest you ask them now.
I
give you my word, but add one caveat. I have yet to reach Angie for
an interview. Being that you have no personal attachments where she
is concerned, and given your insightful nature, might I request your
educated opinion in that matter if the situation warrants?
My
educational advice? Tread lightly, Dr. Church. She is in a delicate
state. Plus, out of all of us, she is the one who is likely to rip
you to shreds. . . .
**chuckles**
So I gather from popular opinion. Well, then let me offer you my
thanks for taking the time to delve into recent events I know still
trouble you. I greatly appreciate it.
Have
a good night.
I apologize for the delay with the Raw Interviews. Dr. Church was on vacation for a week, and then I had children sick, so we couldn't exactly catch up. Hopefully, you will enjoy this interview. I know I did, and it was very insightful.
I
must say, you’re an extremely difficult man to nail down. Thank you
for finally agreeing to speak with me, Thad.
And
I must say, Dr. Church, you are bloody exhausting. I knew if I didn’t
agree you’d just badger me for eternity.
Let’s
just dive right in, shall we? Why did you decide to hide out, rather
than remain with the other Chosen after everything finally settled
down?
I’ve
always been better suited to solitude. Granted I taught at
University, but I enjoy the time to myself.
You
haven’t always sought solitude, though. You were in fact married,
and then entered into quite a significant relationship with Erin. In
my opinion, that speaks to a deeper need for companionship. Wouldn’t
you agree?
While
that all may be true, you forget, Dr. Church, that I am well over one
thousand years old. From the time my wife died until the time in
which I met Erin, I was alone. I’d not had another love interest
since my beloved.
So
why Erin? What made her irresistible enough to put thoughts of a
relationship back in your mind?
Honestly,
I’m not certain I can answer that fully because I, myself, am not
sure of the entire reasoning. Perhaps it was her naivety and
innocence that pulled me in? I mean she is a stunning creature;
brilliant, cunning, and ruthless when she has to be. Honestly, I
don’t think she sees it. Mayhap that is the reason for it. She
doesn’t know she possesses all of those qualities.
So
it’s safe to say you fell quite deeply in love with her.
Very
much so.
And
yet you walked away without a second glance. That must have been very
difficult.
Hmmm.
. . . What makes you think I didn’t give her a second glance?
Because
you’re here with me and not with her. A man as deeply in love as
you claim to be couldn’t afford to take that second look. Was
Angelo a factor in your decision to cut ties completely?
Sometimes
stepping away from the situation because
you love that person is the best for them. And yes, he was a
contributing factor.
And
if you had it to do all over again, would you?
Depends
on what you are meaning by “it”. If you are referring to the Erin
situation, perhaps I would do it over again—maybe a little
differently. But it’s a curse of who we are. We get to live
indefinitely, wondering about these events. Of all the things we can
do, time travel is not one of them.
Then
let’s look toward the future. Where do you see your path taking you
from here? Are you content enough to relegate yourself to a bunch of
dusty old books, or do you think you may seek out companionship
again?
It’s
hard to say right now. I’ve always found comfort in books of all
sorts. They bring me a certain amount of peace. I will say, however,
that I don’t think I’m going to be actively seeking out anything
or anyone for a long time. And now that you know where I’ve been
keeping myself, I’ll be moving again shortly.
I
take it you prefer anonymity as opposed to the celebrity your
accomplishments have earned you?
Most
definitely. I am uncomfortable with large amounts of attention. I
prefer solitude.
As
you have already mentioned. I wonder then, why you would join on with
the Chosen in the first place. You had to know it would bring you the
unwanted attention so you doggedly try to avoid.
They
needed my help. I’ve known Sable for centuries and when he
approached me, I felt like I had to—no needed
to help. And I owed it to Angelo for helping me once before in the
past. People don’t believe that all that transpired between the
three of us wasn’t done out of malice or simple cruelty. It was
completely unexpected and I do sincerely regret the manner in which
it occurred.
In
speaking separately with both Erin and Angelo, they stated that
everything has been forgiven. Do you get that same sense from them? I
understand you chose to contact them to offer your apologies.
I
did. And I do believe apologies were accepted and forgiveness is in
the works.
It
sounds as though you have everything tied up nicely now. Is that
truly the way of things, or merely what you wish for others to see?
Physically
speaking, yes it has been tied up beautifully. Emotionally. . . .
Well, that’s a different story and only time can truly tell.
Profoundly
put. Shall we leave this interview at that then?
Do
you promise to leave me be? I’m telling you now, Dr. Church, this
will be the last interview you gain from me. If you have any further
questions I suggest you ask them now.
I
give you my word, but add one caveat. I have yet to reach Angie for
an interview. Being that you have no personal attachments where she
is concerned, and given your insightful nature, might I request your
educated opinion in that matter if the situation warrants?
My
educational advice? Tread lightly, Dr. Church. She is in a delicate
state. Plus, out of all of us, she is the one who is likely to rip
you to shreds. . . .
**chuckles**
So I gather from popular opinion. Well, then let me offer you my
thanks for taking the time to delve into recent events I know still
trouble you. I greatly appreciate it.
Have
a good night.
March 26, 2013
Author Spotlight: Brian Patrick McKinley creator and genius behind Ancient Blood: A Novel of the Hegemony
It is my honor to welcome Brian McKinley to my blog! I do not have the words to adequately describe the talent of my fellow author, so, I will let his words speak for him! Check out his guest blog. It sheds some much needed light on what every vampire novelist should know. Also, get to know a little about Brian and read a special excerpt of:
Ancient
Blood:
A
Novel of the Hegemony
REQUIRED
READING
The
5 Vampire Novels Every
Aspiring
Vampire Author Should Read
By
Brian Patrick McKinley
They
say that imitation is the most sincere form of flattery, and you can
certainly see plenty of imitation in the vampire genre. There are
many forms of vampire novels now, from steamy paranormal romances to
old-school bloody horror and so the would-be vampire author has a
nearly unlimited supply of reading material to choose from. Chances
are, it’s because you love reading certain authors and their takes
on vampires that you want to write one yourself. With that in mind,
I’ve compiled a list of 5 vampire novels that, in my opinion,
represent the basic building blocks of each of the current types of
popular vampire fiction.
Most
of these are modern novels, so you won’t find Dracula
on this list; it’s a fine novel for its time, but let’s face it,
if you’re not familiar with the basics of the Dracula story from
the various film adaptations and references, then you probably have
no business writing about vampires. And, in case you’ve already
read my pick or have a strong aversion to doing so, I’ve been kind
enough to suggest an alternate novel for each that covers the same
territory.
In
no particular order, here they are:
The
Vampire Lestat by Anne Rice
– How could I compile a list like this and not include the queen of
modern vampire fiction? I couldn’t, so I put her first to get it
out of the way. You may wonder why Lestat and not Interview, but
Interview is a little slow in places and just doesn’t have the flow
and characterization that Rice developed when she hit her stride.
Louis may have set the model for the modern tragic, brooding vamp,
but Lestat is the rock star vamp that has really captured reader
imaginations the world over. Rice weaves a fascinating, tragic,
triumphant, and compelling tale. No one does vivid, sprawling vampire
biographies like Rice in her prime and this novel is still the
benchmark any historical/biographical vampire novel should be
measured against. Don’t settle for the imitations, read the
original and see what created the modern vampire craze!
Honorable
Mention:
Pandora by Anne Rice. If you’re looking for a female-oriented
biography filled with history and romance, then this later Vampire
Chronicle by Rice may be what you’re looking for. A more leisurely
paced novel than Lestat’s, it still delivers vivid characters, lush
prose, and rich historical detail.
The
Queen of the Damned by Anne Rice
– Why would you read Lestat and not finish the story? With Lestat’s
history out of the way, this sequel lets the Queen of Vampires take
center stage, dragging Lestat around on a globe-spanning spree of
destruction, ecstasy, and a glimpse into the very origins of their
race. If Lestat was a bit light on the action, then this volume more
than makes up for it. This remains the super-powered vampire showdown
to end them all and Rice’s unique vampire mythology again set the
standard for all that have followed. And, no, seeing the wretched
movie version does not count!
Honorable
Mention:
The
Hunger by Whitley Streiber
– For those who prefer their vampires a little more
non-traditional, but with a little more scientific plausibility,
Whitley Streiber’s subtle, creepy, bisexual Miriam Blaylock is the
original vampire femme fatale. A disturbing and unique take on the
vampire legend, Steiber’s creatures are a separate species rather
than undead corHopses, capable of the full range of emotion but a
tragic flaw for those they choose to love. This is absolutely a
vampire novel for adults, not because of any graphic content, but
because the complex emotional territory Streiber journeys into is
best appreciated by those who have lived and loved and lost. If you
read this one years ago when you were young, I urge you to give it
another pass and see if you don’t have a different reaction. This
one also became a stylish 80s movie, but to really appreciate the
emotional subtexts in the story, you really must read the novel.
Honorable
Mention:
The Vampire Tapestry by Susan McKee Charnas. This very unusual
vampire tale presents a truly alien and unique vampire who may well
be the last of his species. Far less romantic and more pragmatic than
most vampires you’ll ever meet, this book presents a series of
episodes in the life of the vampire Weyland. This one’s not for all
tastes, but certainly one of the more unique takes on the vampire
idea you’ll find.
I
Am Legend by Richard Matheson
– The grand-daddy of vampire apocalypse novels, and maybe even
zombie apocalypse stories, this grim, slow burning novel bears no
resemblance to the various movie adaptations that have been based on
it (with the exception of Vincent Price’s The
Last Man on Earth,
which comes close). Some readers will find it slow, but the horror of
the vampires in this novel lies in their numbers and relentlessness.
Fans of The
Walking Dead
and similar fare will appreciate the bleak atmosphere, but what will
truly surprise readers is the profound philosophical questions
Matheson raises with masterful understatement.
Honorable
Mention:
‘Salem’s Lot by Stephen King. The master of modern horror gave us
this wonderful modern vampire classic which is often described as
“Dracula in a small Maine town.” While that description is
accurate, this novel is so much more. Masterful characterization of
people large and small makes the town of the title live and breathe.
The setting is so vividly drawn and lovingly rendered that you almost
don’t notice the absence of the undead for a large portion of the
novel. Atmosphere and steadily building dread replace King’s usual
shock and awe in this early masterpiece. Those who like their
vampires monstrous and traditional need to take a lesson.
The
Dresden Files by Jim Butcher, but Grave Peril if you have to pick
just one -
Okay, you’re saying, but what about us Urban Fantasy writers? Jim
Butcher has created a fully-realized and consistent fantasy world
composed of everything you’ve ever heard of in a fairytale or
mythology book. The thing to read Butcher for is how approachable and
sensible he makes the fantastic seem. By having a solid foundation to
build on and working to keep the rules clear, his wizard Harry
Dresden strikes a crucial balance between being powerful enough to
handle the ever-escalating threats he encounters while never becoming
so chock full of powers that he ceases to be interesting. Who Harry
Dresden is matters much more than the nifty spells he can cast and
the restrictions he places upon himself elevate him to a combination
of Phillip Marlowe and Harry Potter. The reason this series fits this
list, of course, is because Butcher’s clever approach to vampires
having different “courts” each with distinct powers and
weaknesses allows him to get mileage out of all the various vampire
archetypes. The fact that the series has sustained fourteen novels so
far with no decrease in quality or sales also proves that Mr. Butcher
is doing something right and that’s always worth studying.
Honorable
Mention:
Guilty Pleasures by Laurel K. Hamilton. Not only was it one of the
first such series to hit the bestseller lists, but its heroine Anita
Blake remains one of the seminal ass-kicking heroines in fantasy
literature. In the last few years, the series has sadly degenerated
into Mary Sue wish-fulfillment, but back when she was on her game,
nobody did this kind of monster-mash Urban Fantasy better than
Hamilton. The first eight novels are well worth the read for any
aspiring author looking to dip into that well. Characterization was
key in these early novels along with a strong voice and gritty
realism that balanced the fantastic elements. For those who have
already begun their series, it might be worth reading through the
Anita Blake series to decide for yourself where it “jumps the
shark” or even if it does. You can learn as much from other
people’s failings as you can from their successes.
Well,
there you are. If you look over the list and you’ve read them all,
then good for you! Still, some of these deserve a second reading with
a critical eye, especially if you’re planning to write something in
that vein. C’mon, how could I resist at least one vampire pun on a
subject like this?
Have
a bone to pick with some of my recommendations? Did I leave a
masterpiece off the list? Let me know in the comments below!
Ancient
Blood:
A
Novel of the Hegemony
By
Brian Patrick McKinley
Avery
Doyle loves vampires; he’s read every novel, seen all the movies,
and researched the folklore. When his first one-night-stand,
Caroline, turns out to be a true vampire on the run, he jumps at the
chance to leave his ordinary life and join her as a “child of the
night.” The honeymoon ends, however, when Caroline’s brutal
Creator Sebastian enslaves them on his island estate and Avery must
confront the dehumanizing reality behind his dreams.
In order to survive, Caroline and Avery take their place as servants
in Sebastian’s household during a gathering of the most powerful
vampires on Earth, the Hegemony, and soon find themselves involved in
the myriad intrigues and deceptions that form the night-to-night
existence of The Order.
A society of wealth, power, and inhuman decadence whose existence is
protected by human complicity and disbelief, The Order is the
immortal aristocracy hidden behind the giant corporations and
political leaders of the world. Sebastian, however, has a plan that
will change The Order forever and shatter human civilization.
To avoid this terrible fate, Avery and Caroline will not only have to
defy the most powerful creatures on Earth, but also confront the
darkest aspects of themselves. For in the world of the Hegemony, even
victory may cost them their souls . . .
A fast-paced thriller that both re-imagines and pays tribute to the
traditional vampire, Ancient Blood is a story of love,
ambition, sacrifice, and betrayal that is frighteningly human.
Aboutthe Author
Brian is a lifelong vampire fan from New Jersey
and has written four screenplays, a stage play which won a state-wide
contest and was produced by a NJ community theater, and numerous
short stories which have been published online in various magazines.
Excerpt:
She gave me the earring and, as
delicately as I could, I pierced one of the smaller arteries at the
bottom of her neck. I handed the earring back to her and bent to
drink. While I did, she punctured my neck in the same way and put her
lips to the wound. This is probably the one major advantage a
starving Vampyr has over a starving human, this mutual-cannibalism we
can perform. I guess it’s a little like having sex while freezing
just to generate bodily warmth, but among Vampyrs, this is considered
the purest form of lovemaking. It didn’t have the climactic
intensity of sex, but it was a warmer plateau, like riding that
pre-orgasmic moment forever. Or, for those of a more gastronomic
bent, imagine eating the best chocolate sundae you ever had and never
reaching the bottom of the dish and never losing your appetite for
it. It made me feel close to her in a way that was impossible with
any other form of verbal or physical expression. At that moment, we
were literally one being, one system circulating its life between our
separate halves.
We fed and kissed and comforted each
other for the rest of the night. When sunrise came, we fell into our
daytime hibernation coma holding each other.
You can find Ancient Blood at:
Amazon:
http://www.vampires.com/exclusive-interview-with-brian-mckinley/
Barnes:
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/ancient-blood-brian-patrick-mckinley/1113006782?ean=2940016357225
Kobo:
http://www.kobobooks.com/ebook/Ancient-Blood-A-Novel-Hegemony/book-bSrZaqF1MkOXQnkAj-b7yw/page1.html?s=z5bdvFx-WUGuazWzUyNtWQ&r=1
Find Brian at:
brianpatrickmckinley.webs.com
https://www.facebook.com/brian.mckinley.13
Midnight
Hour Publishing:
www.midnighthourpublishing.org
https://www.facebook.com/MidnightHourPublishing
I STRONGLY encourage everyone to follow this gentleman. He's intelligent and quite funny! Show him some love guys!!!!
March 20, 2013
A Side of me you don't see, with a pinch and a twist of poetry
Now, keep in mind these were written SEVERAL years ago. I was not a very happy person! Let me know what you thing and I may post some more in the future!
BLACK IS BLACK
Black is black and white is night,
Hello darkness goodbye light.
The fierce echo’s in my midst,
The evil voices that insist.
Fog creaps near in inky swirls,
The haunting eyes in creepy murals.
Bitterness never tasted so sweet,
Shadows lie beneath my feet.
Hissing and crying, screaming torment,
Fears and shadows once lying dorment.
The wind beckons with her eerie cries,
Sweet words are whispered laced with lies.
Thorny fingers reach out and tear,
Tangling hearts in their boney snare.
The world is a dangerous place,
Forever suspended in time and space.
She hangs in the balance by a tender thread,
Believing in whispers and being mislead.
The light through the darkness begins to shine,
But the good it will do is done in time.
Sometimes losing is used to find what is lost.
No matter the ties not matter the cost.
If it is missing how does it know it’s gone,
It looks for the light to help it move on.
The light grows brighter as steps are taken,
It no longer feels like its been shaken.
To move on without is trying at best,
He’s done his part now you do the rest.
BLACK
Black clouds above,
Black hole below,
chilling winds that range and blow.
Icy fingers now taking my breath, closing in
like a shroud of death.
Like a branch that scrapes the window pane,
something inside of me now does same.
BLACK IS BLACK
Black is black and white is night,
Hello darkness goodbye light.
The fierce echo’s in my midst,
The evil voices that insist.
Fog creaps near in inky swirls,
The haunting eyes in creepy murals.
Bitterness never tasted so sweet,
Shadows lie beneath my feet.
Hissing and crying, screaming torment,
Fears and shadows once lying dorment.
The wind beckons with her eerie cries,
Sweet words are whispered laced with lies.
Thorny fingers reach out and tear,
Tangling hearts in their boney snare.
The world is a dangerous place,
Forever suspended in time and space.
She hangs in the balance by a tender thread,
Believing in whispers and being mislead.
The light through the darkness begins to shine,
But the good it will do is done in time.
Sometimes losing is used to find what is lost.
No matter the ties not matter the cost.
If it is missing how does it know it’s gone,
It looks for the light to help it move on.
The light grows brighter as steps are taken,
It no longer feels like its been shaken.
To move on without is trying at best,
He’s done his part now you do the rest.
BLACK
Black clouds above,
Black hole below,
chilling winds that range and blow.
Icy fingers now taking my breath, closing in
like a shroud of death.
Like a branch that scrapes the window pane,
something inside of me now does same.
