Jamieson Wolf's Blog, page 67

Sending Light – A Poem

It was a surprise

to see her. She

looked at me and

the smile didn’t really

reach her eyes. She

told me how nice

it was to see me,

but the words fell

from her lips like

stones she was glad

to be rid of. She

asked me how I

was doing. I told

her that the appointment

went well, that I

had passed the baseline

they had set two

years ago, that I

was stronger than ever.

“I even stopped walking with the cane.”

I told her, proudly.

“Well that’s just great.”

It didn’t sound great

coming from her lips.

“Meanwhile, I’m looking at a wheelchair.”

I told her that

I owed her a

debt of thanks. She

had told me to

take on a regimen of

stretches and exercise, that

this would help the

fight against my body.

She smiled and it

looked as if it

were paining her to

to so. She let

out a throaty laugh.

“I see a physiotherapist and they give me exercises. But I’m a bad patient.”

We said our goodbyes

and I was glad

to be away from

her, from her gaze

that was filled with

steel and coldness. I

wanted to be out

of the line of

fire, at the daggers

she was shooting towards

me. I wondered if she

wanted me to be

as miserable as she

was. As I rode

home, I thought on

her behaviour. I couldn’t

fault her for it.

Indeed, I remembered how

It was for me,

deep within that dark

forest, alone with my

anger and hate at

what I had become.

I made the choice

to drag myself out

of the dark forest,

out of the shadows,

and into the light.

It was not an

easy choice to make.

Much as I hated

my life than, anger

is easier. So I

understood her vehemence, even

though I was no

longer that way myself.

So I did the

only thing I could

do. When I got

home, I sat for

a moment and pictured

a bright, shining light

that pulsed with energy.

Then I pushed that

light away from me

and sent it towards

her, hoping that when

it arrived, the light

would show her the

way out of her

own dark forest and

chase away her shadows.

Fearless by Michelle St. James – A Book Review

There is an ache inside of Angelica Bondesan.

She knows where the ache comes from and what will cure it: Nico Vitalie. He brought her passion like she’s never known and touched not only her body but her soul. She knows what will soothe that ache, but she doesn’t know how she truly feels about Nico and what happened after she was kidnapped.

So she goes back to her small town to mourn the death of her father and be with her brother, thinking that Nico is behind her now. However, when she learns that the Vitale family is under attack. People are disappearing and some even end up dead.

Angelica knows that she has no choice. She goes back to Nico, unsure of how things stand between them, but knowing that standing by his side is the only thing she can do.

Things take a drastic turn when Dante, the one man who frightened her more than anything, takes her brother hostage. Her brother means more to her than anything else in the world. She knows she now has no choice. She has to become part of the mob world that she has shunned for so long.

However, time is running out. If they don’t find David, he might be taken from her too. Added to that, the passion between her and Nico is as white hot as ever and she has no choice but to give in to what her body, and her heart, want so very much…

After reading Fearless by Michelle St. James, I thought I knew what to expect in Lawless: hot passion and a thrilling plot. I got that and more. Michelle manages not only to up the ante but to deepen the level of passion between Angel and Nico, something I thought impossible.

It’s wonderful to see that she escapes the typical fat of the second book in a trilogy. Usually, the excitement has already happened and the middle book is a filler until we reach the last book so that it goes out with a big bang. Not so with Fearless.

What’s also really well done about this book is the strengthening of Angelica’s character. She goes from a woman who is afraid but resolute to what is going on around her to a woman who knows that she’s now involved whether she likes it or not. She accepts that she’s part of the mob world, knowing her life is different now.

Experiencing Angel come into her own and stand next to Nico was a wonderful thing. It made her character that much more believable, that much more amazing.

I can’t count the number of times I was reading this book and was clutching my copy in glee or nervousness. Michelle takes you on a white-knuckle ride that will leave you breathless.

More than all of that, though, is the deepening of the passion between Angel and Nico. It was on fire in Ruthless. Well, that passion has been taken up a few notches so now it’s an inferno. I marvel at her ability to create such amazing love scenes that it leaves even me hot under the collar.

With the cliff-hanger at the end of the book, I am salivating for the release of Lawless: Mob Boss Book Three in October! I can’t wait to read Fearless for a second time and experience all the passion and danger all over again!

Whichever Life – A Short Story

When they drove up the gravel pathway, the wind howled.

The complex sat atop a hill at the end of the path. Even from this distance away, it looked strangely foreboding. Jaxon reached over and squeezed Maxwell’s thigh. He put his hand on top of Jaxon’s and squeezed it in a reassuring manner.

“Are we sure this is the right thing to do?” Jaxon asked.

Maxwell gave a shrug of his shoulders. “What’s right anymore?”

There was a tiredness to his voice that hadn’t been there a few weeks ago. Jaxon knew where it was coming from, what had caused it. That didn’t make it easier to hear the resignation in Maxwell’s voice, however.

“There has to be another way. This isn’t our only option, you know.”

“What’s left? What other choices do we have?”

The complex grew larger the closer they got to it. It looked as if it had once been a ranch but that had been altered and changed, added to, until it looked more like a fortress. The gates opened when their car approached them and a calming woman’s voice said “Welcome. Please make your way indoors.”

Giving Maxwell a nervous look, Jaxon nodded even though no one was present in front of them. A place like this had cameras though, so there was someone watching.

They drove up to the front of the ranch house and got out of the car. Maxwell took Jaxon in his arms and spoke softly to him. “We don’t have to do this.”

“Didn’t you just say what other choices do we have?” Jaxon breathed in Maxwell’s scent, sandalwood and something deeper, spicier, that never failed to make his heart melt. “We’re here now. Let’s see this through.”

Maxell stepped back and Jaxon could see the determination in his face. He nodded and took Jaxon’s hand in his. Maxwell had given him strength before and he gave it to him now by clasping Jaxon’s hand in his own.

As they went up the stairs to the front entrance, the doors opened themselves, letting out a soft hiss of air. Jaxon and Maxwell stepped over the threshold and the door slid closed. Jaxon looked at Maxwell trying to quell the panic that was rising in his stomach when a voice called out to them.

“Welcome. So glad you could make it.” He held out his hands as if in prayer and walked towards them, smiling.

They turned to see a man walking towards them. He was tall and broad shouldered and had long white hair that fell past his shoulders. He had piercing blue eyes, so bright they looked as if they were filled with an internal light powered by a batter source.

When he reached Jaxon and Maxwell, he took Maxwell’s right hand and Jaxon’s left hand and clasped them together in both of his. “We will create something beautiful here tonight. I am Hosanna. Please follow me.”

Jaxon looked at Maxwell, his face filled with panic. Hosanna saw the look, unfortunately, and stopped walking.

“Jaxon, are you nervous about being here?”

“Yes, actually. It all sounds a little bit hokey for my taste.”

He gave him a laugh that made his eyes shine a bit brighter. “You won’t be a non-believer for long, Jaxon. You and Maxwell have made the right choice. The world has moved on and you and your lover will be a part of the new world order. Please follow me.”

They did, not having any other choice. Jaxon had watched the entrance and knew that the way out would be barred. They could not leave. They could only move forward. They did so into a room full of other couples, all standing in a circle. There was one part of the circle left empty and Jaxon knew it was for Maxwell and himself.

They took their spots and the chatter that had been filling the room died down until there was only quiet. Only then did their host speak.

“Welcome, all of you. You’ve all taken the first step towards something miraculous by coming here today. The first step involved trust and by arriving as you did, you all showed that you are worthy of the secrets I am going to share with you.”

He paused and looked at each of them in turn. When Jaxon felt his eyes pass over him, it felt as if he were being bathed in cold water. Beside him, Maxwell shivered and Jaxon knew he had experienced the same feeling. He took Maxwell’s hand. Just clasping it again gave him strength.

The room had walls done in a soft champagne hue and scones filled with white light interspersed throughout. It gave the room a soft glow that provided a comforting atmosphere, even if the leader of this group didn’t.

“I am Xander. You all know why you are here. You are all here to become, to find a new life, to grow beyond your spirit. I can help you do that.”

He started pacing in front of them. Though he spoke softly, his voice carried through the room and it sounded as if he were right next to Jaxon.

“The world has moved on. The only ones who are enjoying life, who are benefiting most from it, are those who are spiritually enlightened. Those who have move beyond their spirit and are beings of light. But the question is, how is this possible for you? That’s why you are here.”

The walls behind them slowly hummed. Jaxon saw that eight doors were actually appearing as the walls slid slowly upwards. Metal bed slid out of the openings and they were bathed in light. There were eight of them, four couples. “There’s one space for each of us.” Jaxon said.

Xander turned his blue light like eyes on him. “Yes, Jaxon. You already appear to be more enlightened than the rest.” He laughed a little at his joke though no one else joined in. “The secret to becoming further enlightened is reincarnation.”

One of the others spoke, a woman who was well into her forties with dark hair and a curvy figure. “Isn’t reincarnation when your soul is reborn in another body?”

Xander turned to her and Jaxon was thankful to have Xander’s eyes off of him. “Yes, Xaela. You’re correct. In this case, though, we are speeding up the process. Rather than die and be reborn, you will be reborn when your soul is transferred from one body to the next. It is giving your body and therefore your soul a clean slate, a new beginning. Isn’t that what all people wish for? A new beginning. Picture it. A body devoid of scars, a spirit with a new set of clothes. The world has moved on and this is the way forward.”

“Won’t it hurt?” This from a portly man standing in the room across from them.

“No Alexander, it won’t. There will be no pain. There will be only enlightenment. There is only one issue that you must be aware of. You will have no memories from your previous bodies. You take your spirit but leave your brain behind.”

Another woman raised her hand. “If we leave our brains behind, how do we remember things like driving, or doing our jobs? We can’t possibly relearn all of that.”

Xander let out another small laugh but still no one laughed with him. “Some things you don’t forget, Xeala. Some things are like riding a bike and the body will instinctively know how to do them. There are things we don’t forget, like past hurts or scars. What I’m giving you here is a chance to start over, to be reincarnated for a new beginning of your choosing. You can be whoever you want to be in your new bodies.”

Something occurred to Jaxon then, something important, so he spoke up despite his growing unease. “What about people? Will we remember everyone, will we be the same as we were?”

Xander took a moment before responding, almost as if he wanted to think of the right words. Finally, he answered with the only words he could. “You’ll be reincarnated into other bodies. You will not remember those you knew before.

Those in the room let out a small gasp and Jaxon’s hand tightened around Maxwells. When Jaxon looked at him, there was panic in them making them bright.

Xander continued speaking. “We have tried to think of a way past this process but part of reincarnation is having the new beginning that so many are searching for.”

“We won’t remember anyone? No one at all?” Another man spoke this time, a well-built man with grey hair and high cheek bones.

Turning to him, Xander held out his hands as if in prayer. “No, Xavier, you won’t. That is the joy of reincarnation and starting anew.”

He brought his hands together as if this answered everything. “Now, there are eight metal tables, one for each of you. You will be given a moment to say goodbye to the person you love the most and then the procedure will begin. I will return shortly.”

Xander walked out of the room and left them to themselves. A few people were already hugging their lover or wife or husband and crying. Jaxon could only look at Maxwell with wanting. He went to him and wrapped his arms around him.

“Are you sure this is the right thing to do?”

“It’s a chance to start over, Jaxon. A chance to begin again. It’s something that most people can only dream of and it’s being given to us. A chance to start over.”

Jaxon looked deep into Maxwell’s eyes and tried to convey what he was feeling with his spirit and his words. “My life already started all over again when I met you. I don’t want to lose you, I don’t want to forget you. I don’t want to start a new life without you by my side.”

A tear ran down Maxwell’s face and he kissed Jaxon, pulled him closer to him. “So did mine. My life began again when I met you. Our hearts will know each other, Jaxon, make no mistake. We will meet again.”

Jaxon went to say something else, anything to convey the sense of hopelessness he felt, but Xander walked back into the room and motioned to the metal tables. “It’s time. If you will all lie down on the metal tables, the procedure will begin.”

Giving Maxwell one final look, Jaxon approached his metal table and climbed on top of it, lying down on the cool surface. The others in the room did the same until every one of them were inside their chambers. There was the sound of calming music and Xander spoke one final time.

“When you awake, you will have left your old bodies behind and a new beginning will be upon you. I will come around and give you all the serum you need to reach further enlightenment and then your new lives begin.”

When Xander came to Jaxon, he looked down upon him, his blue eyes seeming to glow. “A new beginning awaits you, Jaxon.”

Jaxon said nothing and could only nod. He felt Xander pierce Jaxon’s neck with a needle and then there was only darkness fell into the bliss of nothingness.

*

When he woke, he was remade.

He knew his name, but that was all. Looking at himself in the mirror, he took in the new body. Having no memory of his old body, he had nothing to compare it to but it looked nice enough. He had been told that he would not remember anyone from his past but even so there was an ache as if something was missing. He felt as if there was a hole inside of him, even though this was a new body.

Jaxon wondered if it was his heart that was missing something, but then realized that he had left his old heart behind. Was the heart itself, the emotions it felt, housed instead inside the soul? Could that be why he felt so lost and lonely with someone he couldn’t really remember?

He dressed and went out of the room and found himself in a brightly lit circular room with champagne coloured walls. There were seven other people in the room and he watched them wandering around the room and wondered if they felt as if they had lost something too.

Then one of the seven was walking toward him. He was tall with blond hair and incredible eyes that Jaxon could see from across the room. He stopped in front of him and just looked at him. Then he spoke: “Hello Jaxon.”

It was as if a door were opening inside of him. His body was filled with emotions and feelings that had not been there before and a name kept repeating itself over and over. “Maxwell.”

His brain sent images to his heart and they were filled with every moment that Maxwell had spent together, every touch, every caress. Jaxon remembered everything about Maxwell.

“I can’t believe it’s you.” Jaxon said.

“Believe it.” He hugged him close. “I told you our hearts will know each other.”

“Does that mean that emotion isn’t stored in the heart or brain but in the soul itself? That everything we feel or experience is marked upon something we can’t even see or touch?”

Maxwell let out a loud laugh. “Who cares? Just kiss me, okay?”

Jaxon did, knowing that whatever came next, which ever life they were in, Maxwell would be beside him.

How Many Lifetimes – A Poem

I dreamed we

were in a

cabin. There was

a crowd of

other people and

those in charge

said to us:

“You will be reincarnated into other bodies. You will not remember those you knew before.”

I looked at

you and wondered

what it would

do to me

if I could

never see your

face again, never

hear your heart

beat. We knew

that the world

was changing and

this was the

only way forward.

Then the dream

skipped ahead and

I was in

a different body,

everything around me

foreign in this

new skin. I

heard a voice

speak out to me:

“Hello.”

I turned and

saw you. Though

you were in

a different body,

an unfamiliar skin,

your voice set

off fireworks inside

of me. I

looked at your

face and, though

it was not

the same, I

could see you

within it. Despite

their assurances that

we would not

know each other,

we did. As

you came closer

and ran your

finger along the

jaw of my

new face, I

wondered how many

lifetimes we had

lived through together

that we didn’t

remember and how

many more lifetimes

we had yet

to live.

Welcome to Inglewood Hamlet!

I have always loved fairy tales.

To me, they are the literary equivalent of magic. As a child, I gobbled up Hans Christian Anderson and The Brothers Grimm. There is something in fairy tales that is at once wonderful and thrilling.

The idea I had in the beginning was writing a collection of adult fairy tales about all kinds of love. Each of the stories in this collection focus on a different kind of love: gay, straight, transgendered, inter-racial, long distance love and love even after death.

There is always a lesson to be learned in fairy tales. But, more than that, they delve into the darkness of the human heart and spirit, and force the hero or heroine to confront the darkness that rests inside of them before they can have their happily ever after.

Like the love that inspired the stories, the stories themselves bloomed as I wrote them. I didn’t plot any of them and often surprised myself throughout the writing of them.

I had no intention to set a collection of stories in one particular location and thusly, the particulars of Inglewood Hamlet change and shift, like love itself.

When I wrote the first story, I had no idea that a whole collection would follow. What surprised me most was that I went back to Inglewood Hamlet. I thought I was done. I had written the original eleven stories in the collection, and that was it…right?

Earlier this year, I wrote a story for a fabulous friend of mine (hi Pam!!!) and I was surprised to find myself back in Inglewood Hamlet. I realized that I had missed it and that there were a few more stories to tell.

So I wrote two more after that, finishing off the character arc of one particular character. Namely myself but in fairy tale style and rounding off the collection with fourteen stories. Every good writer puts themselves into the story or novel in some way. This time, I was in my own fairy tale and that’s just awesome.

In the end, I realized something while writing this collection. Fairy tales are based on real life and magic does exist…if you keep your eyes open to see it.

Get your copy of When Love Blooms in ebook here:

http://www.amazon.com/When-Love-Blooms-Jamieson-Wolf-ebook/dp/B00A1QPKU8/ref=tmm_kin_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1441754937&sr=8-1

And get your copy of When Love Blooms in paperback here:

http://www.amazon.com/When-Love-Blooms-Jamieson-Wolf/dp/0991758013/ref=tmm_pap_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1441754937&sr=8-1

While the stories in When Love Blooms play loosely with fairy tale traditions, they do hold truths of all sorts within their words. Love is the greatest magic of all. So it’s my hope that with all the stories collected, their magic is tenfold.

Whatever you take away from them, I hope you enjoy them.

Thunderstruck – A Short Story

He was nervous as he approached the entrance. What would it show him now?

His mother took his hand and they headed toward the ticket booth. The carnie on staff took a look at them.

“How old is he?”

“He’ll be thirteen in two weeks.” His mother responded.

The carnie took a look at him, giving him a real up and down once over. “He still looks fairly young. We’ll give him the children’s rate. Next year, he’ll have to pay the adult fee, though.”

“Oh, thank you!” His mother turned to him. “Hear that Alexander? We saved a bit of money! I can get you a corndog and a sno cone now.”

Alexander was thrilled. He normally had to choose between the two-today he could have both. The day was already looking up.

His mother had taken him to the carnival every year for his birthday. He got pancakes for breakfast with a small present every year. He usually asked for a book as he knew his mother didn’t have a lot of money. That was okay, though, as books were what he craved. He read books the same way people breathed air.

Going to the carnival was what he looked forward to every year, though. It was the only time he felt free, other than reading books. Watching his mother get to act like a child for a bit, as if life wasn’t keeping her down, was worth a hundred books for his birthday though. She seemed so carefree during the whole day at the carnival that it was as much a gift for him as it was for her.

Clutching his mother’s hand, they went into the park grounds. Normally, they went to the carnival on his birthday, but it came early this year. His mother had booked the day off work especially for him.

When they entered, the first thing Alexander did was look for The Gravitron. It was his favourite ride, but not for the reasons that everyone else loved it. The ride was shaped like a flying saucer and you stood against a wall. There was a man at the control booth in the centre and he played music like some kind of manic DJ. The ride spun to the point where it was going so fast, gravity pulled you against the wall. You could even crawl up the wall, its force was so strong.

Alexander loved the ride, not for the weightlessness, but for what he saw when he was riding it. He was pretty sure that no one else could see what he did, that the rides secret was revealed only to him. Every year he rode it, when the ride started to spin, some kind of window would open up above the DJ booth.

One year it showed, a meadow, filled with flowers. The next year, he could see a tall castle stretching towards the sun. The year after that, he was shown a wasteland, as if the world itself had been blown apart. Last year, he had witnessed animals in a forest, filled with thick green trees.

He remembered how he had taken a shocked breath when something had flown out of the window the Gravitron created. A small blue bird had shot out and had tried to fly out of the Gravitron, but couldn’t find an exit. Alexander had watched the bird, stuck to the wall and unable to move after it.

When the ride ended, he had found it dead in front of the DJ booth in the centre. He showed it to the carnie who had made a sad sound. “Must have gotten in before we started the ride, poor thing.”

Only, Alexander knew the truth. The bird had come from the window. He wondered why the bird had chosen to leave what looked like a beautiful and wonderful place. Maybe the bird was like him: always curious about what lay beyond the portal.

The Gravitron was right there, at the front of the carnival when people came in, waiting for him. It looked even more shiny than it had before, as if it were covered in sparkles, enticing him to go ride it and to discover. That would come later though.

First, his mother wanted to go try her hand at a game or two and have a sno cone. They always got one when they first came into the park. It was a tradition that they had observed every year when his mother brought him to the carnival. She said it gave them the much needed energy to get through the day at the park. Plus, she said, it just made her more cheerful. Nothing started an adventure off better than a sno cone.

They went right to the stand and ordered. Alexander got a cherry one and his mother a lemon flavoured one. They sat down on the benches in the warm sun and looked at all the people milling about, enjoying the day.

“I’m sorry Alex.” His mother said.

He looked at her. She looked sad all of a sudden. “What are you sad for?”

She sighed. “Well, you deserve more. I know you wanted a new bike for your birthday, or that NEP gaming system.”

“NES”

“NES, that’s what I said. You’re such a great kid and you deserve more than I can give you. You know how much I wanted to get you the bike, right?”

It was true. Alexander had been hoping to get a new bike but he knew that it was a long shot and a wish in the sand. There was no way that his mother could afford it. Occasionally, it rankled him that they had no money. He was still wearing clothes from three years ago, his glasses were two years old and they often had to go to the food bank to get food when money ran out.

He knew that other kids his age didn’t have to worry about where they were going to get tomorrows lunch from or that their shoes were coming apart at the soles. However, he put a brave face on for his mother and smiled.

“It’s okay, Mom. I have everything I could want.” His insides twisted a little bit at lying to his mother.

Perhaps she saw the lie in his eyes because she ruffled his hair and said softly “Such a good kid.”

She wiped a tear away from her eye and smiled. “Come on, let’s finish our sno cones and go on some rides. What do you say, kiddo?”

He gave his mother a huge smile and took her hand. They rode the Tilt-a-Whirl, three different roller coasters and even rode on some bumper cars where his mother backed him into a corner and kept bumping his car, laughing the entire time.

They took a brief break for a corn dog and then played a few games. His mother won him a huge stuffed unicorn playing darts. He won her a large teddy bear playing with the water guns. It really was an amazing day, but the real treat for Alexander came last.

Finally, his mother looked at him and said: “Ready to go into space, champ?”

They headed back toward the Gravitron. Alexander’s heart began to speed up and he tried to calm his excitement, but there was nothing he could do. This time, he was going to see what was on the other side of the window, regardless of what it showed him.

His mother handed over the last of the tickets and hugged him quickly. “Journey safely, my brave astronaut.” Alexander knew that she was teasing him. The entire ride looked like a UFO. He hugged her back and said he would.

Then he was inside.

Each time, it was like he actually did step onto a spaceship. There was nothing but the rounded glass booth in the centre and the walls were covered in red mats that moved up and down along the wall and matching red carpet that ran in strips along the floor of the ride.

The music was already pumping and releasing a heady, hypnotic beat. He felt the music reverberate inside his body as he made his way forward and chose a spot along the wall. Tons of other kids and adults were doing the same, each choosing a place to stand.

Alexander waited with anticipation for the ride to start. He breathed slowly and tried to calm his nerves. When the music started, a heavy rock anthem by ACDC. As the doors started to close, he saw his mother for the last time. She waved to him and then she was gone. The doors were closed and the Gravitron started to spin.

The vibrations thrummed through him, running through his whole body. Alexander watched the other children, some wearing expressions of terror, some of glee. The DJ spoke from the centre of the ride:

“Okay, boys and girls! Who’s ready to ride the lightning?”

I am, Alexander thought. I’m so ready. He seemed to be speaking directly to him.

ACDC’s “Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap” gave way to one of his favourite tracks. As “Thunderstruck” began to play, the music flowed through him, mixing with the vibrations, until his body was almost floating.

Alexander looked up at the roof of the Gravitron above the DJ booth. Nothing was happening, there was no opening into the beyond. Alexander wasn’t worried, he remembered from years past that nothing happened until the DJ made the ride spin faster, until you could climb on the walls and the forces of gravity grabbed hold of you.

“All right boys and girls! Who wants to go faster?”

Everyone screamed, some with fear some with joy. Alexander let out a loud yes.

“I can’t hear you!”

Alexander screamed louder along with everyone else in the Gravitron. Finally, he could feel the speed gaining, could feel the forces of gravity grabbing him and pulling him against the red wall. His skin began to tighten and he could feel the electric current running behind his back.

This is it, he thought. Any time now.

Looking up, he saw it: a flash of blue electricity that snaked across the ceiling. Only a flash at first, but then it was joined by more blue electric snakes that moved and slithered. As more blue snakes appeared, the electricity began to eat away at the red carpet covering the ceiling.

Smoke was floating away from the opening and Alexander watched it grow bigger with anticipation. He wondered where the portal would open to this time? A mythical world? A dystopian landscape? A lost paradise? It didn’t matter what it showed him, he would cross the barrier.

More of the ceiling burnt away, electric snakes eating a bigger and bigger hole. Then the smoke cleared and he saw…a kitchen.

Not at all what he was expecting. He kept watching, waiting to see what else it would show him. He saw someone at the oven and though he couldn’t hear it, he knew they were humming a song. It was a woman, he could see that much. He wondered who it was.

“Who wants to go faster?!” The DJ yelled above the music.

As the Gravitron spun even more quickly, Alexander knew it was now or never. He turned around, pulling his body off the mat as if it were stuck to it with glue. As he moved his body up the red mat, it was as if the glue was giving away, only to suck him back to the surface.

He pulled through the glue of gravity and kept going. He was half way up the wall now. Alexander couldn’t back down now, couldn’t turn away. He turned his head and looked at the hole in the ceiling. There was light streaming through and he could almost smell the scent of ginger cookies. He was all the way up the wall when he realized that he had run into a problem.

There was no way Alexander could get to the portal. There was no way to reach the ceiling. The gravity would keep him pulled against the wall. Letting out a wail of frustration, he pulled his arm free from the glue of the red mat and reached for the hole, stretching his arm out. It was so close!

There was the sound of electricity as the blue snakes appeared again and began to eat away more of the ceiling. Almost as if it heard his need, the hole grew bigger and stretched towards Alexander, leaving smoke and more tongues of electricity in its wake.

So close! It was above him now and he could see deeper into the world through the portal. The woman there was calling out to someone. He wondered if she would find who she was looking for. He stretched his arm out further and touched the edge of the portal.

Alexander heard the sound of thunder over the music and there was a flash of lightning and the sound of screaming. Alexander felt the electric snakes grab hold of him, as if the portal was as hungry for him as he was for it.

Then, for a time, there was only blackness.

*

When the blackness cleared, there was only light.

His eyes were momentarily blinded by the sun. Blinking, he sat up and looked around him. Alexander was on the floor of a forest. He could see the roots of trees to his left and he was laying on a bed of leaves and needles.

Alexander could hear the soft sound of birdsong. He sat up, took another look around him and gasped: The trees around him looked okay half way down the tree to the roots. Above that line there was only burnt husks of trunks and branches devoid of any leaves. It looked like they had all died. Alexander wondered why the portal had sent him to a forest filled with dead trees.

Standing, he was careful on shaky legs. He reached out to a tree to support himself. He felt something move into him and something else move out of him. It was as if some of the tree that had died moved into him while something else entirely seemed to slide out of him. It was as if water was pouring from his fingers.

He heard a popping sound. Looking up, Alexander marvelled at the changes in the tree taking place before him: where the bark had been dead and grey like ash, it now glowed with a dark golden hue that seemed to shine from an internal light.

Leaves sprung up along all the branches, buds at first, then growing faster than normal into fully fledged leaves. Some of the branches sprouted flowers, white buds that would let go and rain down on him, covering him in petals that floated like snow to the ground.

Alexander held out his hands to catch some of the petals as they fell and he watched as they melted in his hand. A soft breeze flew through the glade and the trees that were still bare shook their branches, sounding like the clattering of teeth.

When the clattering of the branches stilled, a voice said behind him: “You came.”

Turning, Alexander saw a woman standing before him. She looked as if she were made of the trees themselves. Leaves made her dress and her arms and face was made of bark. Her eyes were like two shining black onyx stones and her lips looked as if they were painted on. Indeed, when she spoke next, the lips did not move. “I did not know if you would come.”

Alexander almost bowed. Instead, he said: “You’ve been waiting for me?”

“For eons, it seems. However, time moves more slowly here.”

“Where is ‘here’, exactly?”

“Where did you want to go when you saw the entrance? It is whatever each person wishes to go to, individual to the person who makes that wish, but it always leads to the same place though the locale may be different. But we have been watching you. Hoping for you. We require your help.”

“We?”

“My sisters and myself.” She gestured at the other trees around them. “We have not been doing well as you can see. I am all that remains. My sisters waited with me for your return, but the thunder came and the lightning took them. Then there was only me but the lightning took me as well, until you revived me.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Nor should you, but I will try to explain what I can.” She held out her arm for him and he took it, linking it in his. It felt brittle but he knew that was because she was made of wooden sticks and branches.

They walked on a little ways until she spoke again. As they walked, he looked at each of the trees and thought of each of the women that were trapped within.

“We are an ancient race. We’ve been called Ladies of the Mist, Dryads, Muses and more. But the world moves on around us and beyond us. As each person stops believing, another part of our once large country would die out. We are left with this forest to call our home, but even that is being taken from us.”

“What can I do to help?”

“You have the soul of an artist in you. Tell me, do you paint? Sing? Do you draw?”

Alexander looked around him. “I like to write.” He whispered. He had never told anyone this before. He had always done it in secret, scribbling in journals and on pieces of paper.

The Tree Woman smiled, her mouth curing into a line. “I thought as much, how else could you have brought me back into my body?”

“I did that?”

“Surely you did. You took some of the darkness and in return, poured some of your spirit into me. It’s what all artists do. Their spirit lives on in all of their works.”

“Then let me do that for the other trees. It’s the least I can do for you.”

Alexander reached out to touch another tree. Again, it came to life with the deep golden glow and they watched as the tree came to life, leaves and buds growing on the branches, this time a deep gorgeous red. A breeze picked up around the trees again and when the chattering of the branches ended, another woman made of leaves, this one covered with white leaves instead of golden brown, stood before them.

“Sister!” she said. To Alexander, she curtsied. “I owe you my thanks.”

“We both do. You’ve given us life and we have nothing to give you in return.”

“But I can bring you all back!” Alexander said. “I know I can.”

“Perhaps you could, but you face two problems. One, there are not enough people that believe, not enough people that know in their heart of hearts that magic exists. Two, you wouldn’t have enough time.”

“What do you mean?”

“You wouldn’t have enough time before we all became Thunderstruck once more.”

The other Woman of Leaves let out a soft hiss. “Thunderstruck.”

“What do you mean?” Alexander asked.

Instead of answering right away, she looked up into the sky above them. Clouds were rolling in and the light became shrouded in darkness. “Watch.”

The clouds darkened further until they were black and thick with smoke and air. “What’s happening?”

The Woman of Leaves put a hand on his arm, the bark hot and dry on his skin. “Watch.”

The clouds continued to thicken and then came the thunder, loud and booming. It shook the ground around them. The branches of the dead trees shook and it no longer sounded like chattering teeth. Instead it now sounded like something shivering in the trees. The birdsong that had been there was now gone and the whole forest was silent, all except the noise of the gathering storm.

More thunder shook the ground and trees and then there was a split second where the hair on Alexander’s hair stood on end and the air around them was still and quiet. Then the sky around them erupted with brilliant, bright tongues of electricity.

They arched down from the sky with the speed and precision. The tree that the second woman of leaves had come from, the one with the hair of white leaves, was struck and once more turned a deep blue black. The woman of leaves faded away before their eyes.

There was more thunder, but it was not as threatening as before. Then it, too, faded away and the skies were blue once more. The woman of leaves turned to face him. “See?”

“Does that always happen?”

“It does. We are at war with disbelief and non-believers.”

“But I can help you. I can bring the trees to life again, you know I can.”

“How do you propose to get rid of the lightning and the thunder? How do you propose to keep it away?”

Alexander thought about it. An idea had occurred to him: What did all writers or artists do but sacrifice something? Did they not put all of their soul, their blood, sweat and tears into what they created? Was his idea, as mad as it was, any crazier than that?

“I have an idea. When the lighting comes, I’ll take care of it.”

“How?” Her voice was like the wind itself. “We can’t stand against it.”

“You can’t. But I can.”

He stepped away from her and ran through the forest, putting his soul into as many of the trees as he could, letting his body fill up with the blackness of burning fill him. The forest came alive around them, filling the air with a golden light brighter than any star.

He stopped when he could not go on any longer. There were countless Women of Leaves around him and they all looked at him with reverence. They all curtsied to him and the forest around them was filled with the sound of the wind through the leaves.

The sky seemed to respond to the growing number of them by growing dark and ominous. The woman of leaves came to him again. “I can’t let you do what you are about to do.”

“I have to do this. You’re the spark of light in my imagination. You represent imagination and creativity. That has to survive. When I get back, I’ll write more stories that will help people to believe in the impossible again.” He took her hand, its roughness calming in his grasp. “Please.”

She watched him, her wise eyes dark and deep as the deepest pool of water. Finally, she said: “My name is Audrey.”

“Nice to meet you Audrey.”

“When you write your next story, name a character after me won’t you? That way, we will meet again.”

Alexander nodded and was surprised when a tear fell from his right eye. He went to wipe it away when Audrey stopped him. “Do not be ashamed of your tears, Alexander. They are the breath and water of life.”

He nodded and stilled when the air went quiet around them. The Women of Leaves around him all started to whisper. “Thunderstruck, thunderstruck, thunderstruck…” They said, again and again until it was the sound of wind that ran through the leaves that made them.

Alexander had a split second to trace the arc of the path of lighting when it struck. He threw himself in front of the tree it was about to strike and let it strike him instead. It was as if his entire body sang in a language that he didn’t know the words for.

As the electricity continued to roll through him, the forest and the Women of Leaves started to fade. The last thing he saw was Audrey’s face. “Thank you.” She said. “Remember your promise.”

From within the electric charge that filled him, Alexander whispered “I will.”

Then there was blackness once more.

*

When Alexander awoke, it was to find his mother looking down at him. She let out a strangled cry and threw her arms around him.

“Oh Alexander! I was so worried!”

She let out a cry and he felt the tears from her eyes wetting his shoulder. “They are the breath of water and life…”

“Mom, it’s okay. It’s okay.”

She pulled back from him and looked at him, her face tear streaked and her eyes wide. “They don’t know what happened. The ride never did that before, they have no idea what blew the electricity but when you were hit with the charge of current, they were worried you wouldn’t wake up, that you had died…” She let out another sob and got control of herself.

“Oh my little man. I’m so glad you’re all right. I was so afraid. When they stopped the ride and took you out from it on a stretcher, I thought my heart would stop.” She took his hands in hers. “You’re my heart, Alexander. You hear me? You’re my heart and I would be lost without you.”

“Mom, it’s okay…where are we anyways?”

“The hospital. They wanted to make sure everything was okay, that you were all right. We have to spend the night here.” She let out a long breath. “This hasn’t been the greatest of birthdays, has it? I can’t even afford to get you a gift.”

“It’s been a great birthday and you’re my gift, Mom. You’re all the gift I need.”

“Name me anything you want Alexander, anything at all and it’s yours, I don’t care how much it costs me. I’m sorry I can’t get you everything you want, sorrier than you’ll ever know.”

Alexander looked at his mother and realized then how much he loved her. “You have nothing to be sorry about. Your love is a gift to me. Can I have a journal and a pen? I have a story I want to write out and want to get all the details right before I forget them.”

His Mom’s look of surprise changed to one of pleasure. “Of course! I don’t have anything here, but I can run down to the gift shop and see if they have anything nice. I can see if they have cake or something at the gift shop. I’ll go see about that cake, too!”

“Okay. Can I have some paper and a pen from your purse while I wait? I don’t want to lose the idea.”

“My little writer. You’re always writing something.” His mom said, handing him a few receipts and a pen from her purse. She kissed him once more and went to the door. She turned around at the last second though. “When did you become such a man, Alexander?”

“Sometimes, these things just happen, Mom.”

She let out a laugh and said “I’ll be right back.”

When she was gone, he picked up the pen and started writing: He was nervous as he approached the entrance. What would it show him now?

The pen shot out a tongue of lightning and it made the piece of paper glow a deep golden brown.

He smiled, thought of Audrey, and kept writing.

Stone Pathway – A Poem

Half of my voice has disappeared.

Those lost words

sit on my tongue like birds,

flying away even as I try

to speak them out loud.

As I begin the process

of learning the second language

I knew so long ago,

it’s as if I am

putting down a stone pathway

so that the birds

can find their way home again.

The Gift of One Word – A Poem

I haven’t spoken

to you in

nineteen years. Though

you are the

other half of

me, the mirror

of my physical

self, words between

us are few.

They float along

the water between

us, trying to

find their way

to you. The

words are simple.

Words or phrases like:

I love you. I miss you. I want to know who you are again.

The words sink

in the water

between us, as

your ports are

closed, as is

your heart. You

don’t hear what

I have been

saying for so

long. My words

are but smoke

signals to you

which you choose

not to see.

Finally, I heard

a fog horn,

blaring from your

shores. It was

just one word

flying across the

ocean between us:

Thank-you.

It was the

most you had

said to me

in nineteen years.

It was like

a rainbow, shining

across the sky,

from you to

me. If I

go another nineteen

years without hearing

from you, that

one word will be

gift enough.

The Perfect Mess of Living – A Poem

“I don’t know where it comes from.”

I told her.

“This need for perfection. I’m far too hard on myself.”

She looked at

me, her lips

pursed in thought.

“Maybe that’s why you got MS.”

She said. I

looked at her.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, the MS is trying to teach you that perfection doesn’t exist. That’s why it was given to you.”

I was shocked

by her words.

She spoke of

MS like it

was a gift.

I knew that

everything happened for

a reason, but

that didn’t ring

true for me.

“I think you’re over reaching.”

I said quietly.

“There’s no rhyme or reason why a person gets MS.”

She thought my

words over but

continued undaunted nonetheless.

“Well, think about it. It’s trying to teach you something. It’s teaching you that you’re no longer perfect, that you have to learn to live with that.”

I remained quiet,

changed the subject.

Walking home, I

the conversation stayed

with me, words

trailing behind me

like a mist

as I tried

to make sense

of them. I

thought she had

the wrong of

it. The MS

wasn’t trying to

teach me about

perfection or my

lack thereof. I

thought harder, the

mist gathering like

a summer storm,

filled with hope

and wishes. I

could feel it

sparkling behind me,

its touch on

my skin like

rain. I knew

that my life

was different now

and that everything

did happen for

a reason, whether

we understood it

or not. So what

was the MS

trying to teach

me? I felt

a tug on

my arm. Looking

behind me, I

noticed a being

made entirely out

of mist vapours.

He looked like

shadow given a

more physical form.

“Who are you?”

He looked at

me but said

nothing. The light

that sparkled from

him grew brighter

and in that

light, I saw

beauty, I could

see solar systems

and stars. The

shape let out

a sigh, the

sound of wind

during summer,

and floated back

into me. I

was filled with

understanding then. I

knew that the

MS was a

gift in a

way. It taught

me thankfulness, it

taught me strength,

it taught me

courage. It showed

me what all

of those were.

I resolved then

and there to

just breathe, to

live and enjoy

every day and

to continue living

my life, come

what may. I

made a promise

to myself: that

I would not

search so hard

for perfection when

it didn’t exist

and to let

go of hurts

that didn’t need

to be there,

to ease up

on myself and

embrace the perfect

mess that I was.

Everything else was

living.

Ruthless: Mob Boss Book One by Michelle St. James – A Book Review

Angelica Bondesan yearns for a different life.

Two years out of college, she wonders if the rest of her life will be filled with hours at the Muddy Cup as a barista. She knows that she needs direction in her life-she just has no idea which direction she wants to go in.

The only spot of brightness in her life was her brother David. With her mother gone and her father often absent in her life, he was all she had. She is constantly trying to bridge the gap between her brother and her father, but to no avail. Angelica hopes that something, anything, will change.

Then things do change when she is kidnapped. She’s thrown into a room and held captive for reasons unknown to her. However, the reasons almost cease to matter when she meets her captor: the dangerous and handsome Nico Vitale.

He’s the boss of New York City’s crime family.  After his parents were murdered in an execution style killing, he took control. Nico wants answers and Angelica is the key to them. Angelica is prepared to resist Nico. What she doesn’t count on is his kindness, his strength or her growing attraction to him.

Then she learns a family secret that shatters her entire world. Her whole life is not what she thought it was. Angelica has only one option: help Nico learn the truth so that she can finally figure out if loving him is a valid option…

My meagre plot summary doesn’t do this book justice. It comes nowhere to capturing the rapid fire plot that seems to flip the pages almost turn themselves, nor does it capture characters so real, so vibrant, that they live beyond the page.

It also fails to capture the incredible passion and the amazing love scenes that set the pages on fire. I have read hundreds of romance novels, but none of them have come close to Ruthless by Michelle St. James.

Of course, Michelle St. James is the pseudonym of Michelle Zink. So I already know that she can tell a flat out fantastic amazing story. I also knew that Michelle could write passionate love scenes with aplomb-she showed that she could do so with her Shadowguard Trilogy of novellas. I was left breathless after those three short books and wondered what Zink could do with the space of a full length romance novel.

After reading Ruthless, I don’t have to wonder any longer. Ruthless is the work of a master of the romance genre.

Yes, the love scenes are incredibly hot, but it’s more than that. What I loved most about Ruthless was that it wasn’t just about the love scenes. Michelle has given us a novel that goes beyond the typical mob boss novel. She breaks stereotypes established by mob novels and instead of a man driven to kill for no reason and poses a woman, she’s created Nico Vitale.

I love the twist she’s given the book in Nico. He doesn’t kill if he doesn’t have to and he takes care of his own. More than that, despite the situation they are in and the attraction he has to Angelica, he wants her to want him and will only take her completely when she does.

He’s a man with depth, with heart and with honour. Despite the unkindness done to him, he knows there is a right way to do things and a wrong way.

Zink has given us everything we could want and more in Ruthless. I can’t wait until Mob Boss Book Two: Fearless comes out in September! I can’t wait to read Ruthless all over again!