C. Desert Rose's Blog, page 16
May 11, 2014
Celebrating Reflections of Soul!
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The Happily Ever After of Reflections of Soul P { margin-bottom: 0.08in; } Confession: I thought long and hard as to what type of post I wanted to present. Then I saw this line on your website and the juices started churning.
In order to really understand Reflections of Soul, one must get in touch with the origins.
P { margin-bottom: 0.08in; } It all started more than a decade ago. At the time, I was beloved in one particular poetry community that was immensely popular—with writers and readers alike. There were two administrators that weren’t too fond of me and devised a plan to get rid of me. That plan involved two other administrators who I thought were my friends. As a result of the betrayal, I got unjustly banned from the place once considered my poetic home. One former administrator heard of my plight and took me aboard. At this new site, I encountered a fellow poet—who I deem “M”. M and I had wonderful word chemistry, even did a few collaborations. We became friends and that friendship blossomed into love.
P { margin-bottom: 0.08in; } The blooming was unintentional because of the distance. I was still living in the South—working and going to school full time; M resided in the Northeast. M would travel almost every month to visit me. This started putting a bit dent in telephone costs and travel costs, since M was still living with a parent.
P { margin-bottom: 0.08in; } One day I got some pretty bad news. There had been budget changes at the workplace and not enough money for the position which was designed for me. People who practically begged me to move to Georgia were “suddenly” not available to chat or help. Just when I decided to return to my home state, M came up with a different idea. With that idea, I traveled from all that was familiar—because of the love I felt for this Soul. The first few years of the union was where my inspiration was at its highest. Things started off great: it felt like Happily Ever After to me.
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In May 2008, M made it very clear that there was a different Happily Ever After in mind—it didn’t involve me. In the half page letter on the computer screen, M kept saying it was nothing I did. The tone of the correspondence left hope that a friendship could still ensue.
P { margin-bottom: 0.08in; } Let’s just say I found out I was wrong. All emotions (and lack of emotions) were working in some erratic cycle. I damn near destroyed everything from that time except for a particular collection of poems.
Around March 2013, I was doing some spring cleaning and found the collection again. For the first time in years I sat and read it. The emotions from before didn’t pop up, and this was definitely a great sign. I was still putting together Eclectic, yet there was a part of me that still believed closure needed to take place.
The closure resulted in Reflections of Soul being published. All of the contents from those years back are still in place—with the exception of “Five Years” (and the supplemental material). That was added a few weeks prior to getting it ready for publication. Through it all, I learned that Happily Ever After is in fact subjective. Perhaps if the experience with M had not occurred, I would have never reached the point where I could really come into my own—not just as a writer but as my own human being.
I invite all of you to read about this catharsis. Who knows? You may encounter some writings that apply to your own experiences as well.
P { margin-bottom: 0.08in; }A:link { color: rgb(0, 0, 255); } For a limited time (until May 31st), get the electronic version of Reflections of Soul for $1.00!
Amazon http://www.amazon.com/Reflections-Soul-Queen-Spades-ebook/dp/B00D49VYGS
Smashwords (enter QK82Q upon checkout) https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/318687
For lovers of paperbacks, there will be a $2.00 discount off the title via CreateSpace. Please enter code YAG4DN9T upon checkout. https://www.createspace.com/4224777
The Happily Ever After of Reflections of Soul P { margin-bottom: 0.08in; } Confession: I thought long and hard as to what type of post I wanted to present. Then I saw this line on your website and the juices started churning.
In order to really understand Reflections of Soul, one must get in touch with the origins.
P { margin-bottom: 0.08in; } It all started more than a decade ago. At the time, I was beloved in one particular poetry community that was immensely popular—with writers and readers alike. There were two administrators that weren’t too fond of me and devised a plan to get rid of me. That plan involved two other administrators who I thought were my friends. As a result of the betrayal, I got unjustly banned from the place once considered my poetic home. One former administrator heard of my plight and took me aboard. At this new site, I encountered a fellow poet—who I deem “M”. M and I had wonderful word chemistry, even did a few collaborations. We became friends and that friendship blossomed into love.
P { margin-bottom: 0.08in; } The blooming was unintentional because of the distance. I was still living in the South—working and going to school full time; M resided in the Northeast. M would travel almost every month to visit me. This started putting a bit dent in telephone costs and travel costs, since M was still living with a parent. 
P { margin-bottom: 0.08in; } One day I got some pretty bad news. There had been budget changes at the workplace and not enough money for the position which was designed for me. People who practically begged me to move to Georgia were “suddenly” not available to chat or help. Just when I decided to return to my home state, M came up with a different idea. With that idea, I traveled from all that was familiar—because of the love I felt for this Soul. The first few years of the union was where my inspiration was at its highest. Things started off great: it felt like Happily Ever After to me.P { margin-bottom: 0.08in; }
In May 2008, M made it very clear that there was a different Happily Ever After in mind—it didn’t involve me. In the half page letter on the computer screen, M kept saying it was nothing I did. The tone of the correspondence left hope that a friendship could still ensue. 
P { margin-bottom: 0.08in; } Let’s just say I found out I was wrong. All emotions (and lack of emotions) were working in some erratic cycle. I damn near destroyed everything from that time except for a particular collection of poems. Around March 2013, I was doing some spring cleaning and found the collection again. For the first time in years I sat and read it. The emotions from before didn’t pop up, and this was definitely a great sign. I was still putting together Eclectic, yet there was a part of me that still believed closure needed to take place.
The closure resulted in Reflections of Soul being published. All of the contents from those years back are still in place—with the exception of “Five Years” (and the supplemental material). That was added a few weeks prior to getting it ready for publication. Through it all, I learned that Happily Ever After is in fact subjective. Perhaps if the experience with M had not occurred, I would have never reached the point where I could really come into my own—not just as a writer but as my own human being.
I invite all of you to read about this catharsis. Who knows? You may encounter some writings that apply to your own experiences as well.
P { margin-bottom: 0.08in; }A:link { color: rgb(0, 0, 255); } For a limited time (until May 31st), get the electronic version of Reflections of Soul for $1.00!Amazon http://www.amazon.com/Reflections-Soul-Queen-Spades-ebook/dp/B00D49VYGS
Smashwords (enter QK82Q upon checkout) https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/318687
For lovers of paperbacks, there will be a $2.00 discount off the title via CreateSpace. Please enter code YAG4DN9T upon checkout. https://www.createspace.com/4224777
May 5, 2014
Happy 5 De Mayo!
Feliz Cinco de Mayo mis amigos.
Although I am not of Mexican descent, that does not mean that I do not know how to celebrate a fantastic holiday.
So in recognition of this holiday I will post an excerpt that most all of my Latino brothers and sisters can appreciate. It's a piece that shows the dynamics of the Latin family, told to us in the words of my beloved Sophia. More than that, I think it's a selection that I think almost any Latino can appreciate.
In honor of Latino's everywhere, a passage from If Death Should Love Me .
P { margin-bottom: 0.08in; } As always I started my day by making myself my morning cup of CafèCón Lechè in my infinitely handy travel mug, of course, and ran out of the door—off to work. I kind of loved my work. Still is seemed that my family had a very different perspective of what I did.You see, the problem is that you can't just go telling an 'Old-school Puerto Rican' family what 'work'is. To them, work is not volunteering at the local animal shelter and/or babysitting. To themthat was, and I quote “A waste of your life.” A clause which always preceded “Why don't you get a real job?”What was a 'real job'to them, exactly?
Lesson of a Puerto Rican family's definition of a real job: A low paying form of employment that made you work way too hard, for way too many hours, which caused you to feel extremely unhappy and unsatisfied to the point of constantly complaining, paid you barely enough money to make ends meet. BUT, was a steady source of income!
Sheeh, was it terrible for me to say that sometimes I wanted to beat them over the head with the 'Stupid Stick'? Uhhh! Frustration overload!
Anywho.The way I looked at it was, if I was hardly gonna make any money than I was gonna do it in a way that made me happy: somewhat.Okay, so I had a few overdue bills, but I was content. I think. I mean, all in all, my employments may not have been, as they called it, real work, but hell, they kept me busy. At least I'd made a career choice, right? Right! All right, so they were so much 'career choices' as they were 'make some money while keeping myself busy' choice, but oh well.The thought made me draw my eye brows in, in question. Shrugging off the doubt, I went on.
Although I am not of Mexican descent, that does not mean that I do not know how to celebrate a fantastic holiday.
So in recognition of this holiday I will post an excerpt that most all of my Latino brothers and sisters can appreciate. It's a piece that shows the dynamics of the Latin family, told to us in the words of my beloved Sophia. More than that, I think it's a selection that I think almost any Latino can appreciate.
In honor of Latino's everywhere, a passage from If Death Should Love Me .
P { margin-bottom: 0.08in; } As always I started my day by making myself my morning cup of CafèCón Lechè in my infinitely handy travel mug, of course, and ran out of the door—off to work. I kind of loved my work. Still is seemed that my family had a very different perspective of what I did.You see, the problem is that you can't just go telling an 'Old-school Puerto Rican' family what 'work'is. To them, work is not volunteering at the local animal shelter and/or babysitting. To themthat was, and I quote “A waste of your life.” A clause which always preceded “Why don't you get a real job?”What was a 'real job'to them, exactly?
Lesson of a Puerto Rican family's definition of a real job: A low paying form of employment that made you work way too hard, for way too many hours, which caused you to feel extremely unhappy and unsatisfied to the point of constantly complaining, paid you barely enough money to make ends meet. BUT, was a steady source of income!
Sheeh, was it terrible for me to say that sometimes I wanted to beat them over the head with the 'Stupid Stick'? Uhhh! Frustration overload!
Anywho.The way I looked at it was, if I was hardly gonna make any money than I was gonna do it in a way that made me happy: somewhat.Okay, so I had a few overdue bills, but I was content. I think. I mean, all in all, my employments may not have been, as they called it, real work, but hell, they kept me busy. At least I'd made a career choice, right? Right! All right, so they were so much 'career choices' as they were 'make some money while keeping myself busy' choice, but oh well.The thought made me draw my eye brows in, in question. Shrugging off the doubt, I went on.
May 1, 2014
Cover Reveal
Hello everyone,
Today has been just a marvelous day for me. There were so many people that joined in to help me with my Cover Reveal Blog Blitz. I feel blessed. I love each and every one of them! They are the best!
So in the spirit of celebration, I am please to present the cover of my upcoming novel, "If Death Should Love Me"
http://cdesertrose.blogspot.com/
Today has been just a marvelous day for me. There were so many people that joined in to help me with my Cover Reveal Blog Blitz. I feel blessed. I love each and every one of them! They are the best!
So in the spirit of celebration, I am please to present the cover of my upcoming novel, "If Death Should Love Me"
http://cdesertrose.blogspot.com/
Cover Reveal
Hello one and all!!
I am so excited to share the cover of my upcoming novel " If Death Should Love Me ".It was created by my publisher's graphic design department and showcases the two main characters of my story; Sophia & Azriel.
Here is a little bit about both characters:
Sophia is a young woman, in her mid twenties, who has had a fairly average life. As the matter of fact, her life is so average that is bores her out of her mind. So, in the attempt to add a little spice to her life, so turns to horror movies. She is of Puerto Rican descent and her culture defines her life in many ways. Her parents raised her in the traditional Hispanic way and instilled all of their values in her. Sophia is very close to her family, especially her grandmother Lourdes. She adores her "Abuela".However Sophia's life spins out of control when she meets Azriel.
Azriel is The Collector. The Grim Reaper, as it were. He was, at one time in his existence, very much alive--
human. But, when the unexpected happens, Azriel finds that his "fate" was not anything like what he'd expected. Whereas most humans get to bask in heaven upon their departure from this earth, he does not.Upon meeting Sophia, Azriel's existence is turned upside down.
" If Death Should Love Me " is the story of how Sophia and Azriel crossed paths and eventually fell in love. More than that, it's the story of the battle that they must confront in order to be happy.
Azriel once said, "Fate, what a bleak and meaningless word to describe something that nobody understands."
Following is the Blurb:
A dull roar, that's all I could hear. Souls, that's all I could see... So many people. Some good. Some bad. Some breathing. Some barely breathing. All souls. It was funny what you could see when you stood in the middle of the Emergency Room. Who survived. Who didn’t. All of them, every one, a soul. A soul for the taking.So begins your introduction to the floating, clustered world of souls that will have such influence on Sophia, the young Puerto Rican-American girl who has just lost her closest ally, her grandmother, "Abuela". It is just after the funeral, at the cemetery, where Sophia meets the tall, almost angelic man who will play the most unexpected role in her life.A love story. A fantasy. An adventure. If Death Should Love Me tells a tale of “fate” far beyond the normal meaning of that little four letter word. How else would you explain why Sophia wonders what would happen If Death Should Love Me?
And now, it is my greatest pleasure and pride to introduce you all to the cover of If Death Should Love Me...
I am so excited to share the cover of my upcoming novel " If Death Should Love Me ".It was created by my publisher's graphic design department and showcases the two main characters of my story; Sophia & Azriel.
Here is a little bit about both characters:
Sophia is a young woman, in her mid twenties, who has had a fairly average life. As the matter of fact, her life is so average that is bores her out of her mind. So, in the attempt to add a little spice to her life, so turns to horror movies. She is of Puerto Rican descent and her culture defines her life in many ways. Her parents raised her in the traditional Hispanic way and instilled all of their values in her. Sophia is very close to her family, especially her grandmother Lourdes. She adores her "Abuela".However Sophia's life spins out of control when she meets Azriel.
Azriel is The Collector. The Grim Reaper, as it were. He was, at one time in his existence, very much alive--human. But, when the unexpected happens, Azriel finds that his "fate" was not anything like what he'd expected. Whereas most humans get to bask in heaven upon their departure from this earth, he does not.Upon meeting Sophia, Azriel's existence is turned upside down.
" If Death Should Love Me " is the story of how Sophia and Azriel crossed paths and eventually fell in love. More than that, it's the story of the battle that they must confront in order to be happy.
Azriel once said, "Fate, what a bleak and meaningless word to describe something that nobody understands."
Following is the Blurb:
A dull roar, that's all I could hear. Souls, that's all I could see... So many people. Some good. Some bad. Some breathing. Some barely breathing. All souls. It was funny what you could see when you stood in the middle of the Emergency Room. Who survived. Who didn’t. All of them, every one, a soul. A soul for the taking.So begins your introduction to the floating, clustered world of souls that will have such influence on Sophia, the young Puerto Rican-American girl who has just lost her closest ally, her grandmother, "Abuela". It is just after the funeral, at the cemetery, where Sophia meets the tall, almost angelic man who will play the most unexpected role in her life.A love story. A fantasy. An adventure. If Death Should Love Me tells a tale of “fate” far beyond the normal meaning of that little four letter word. How else would you explain why Sophia wonders what would happen If Death Should Love Me?
And now, it is my greatest pleasure and pride to introduce you all to the cover of If Death Should Love Me...
April 25, 2014
My first Short Story
Greetings one and all!
I wanted to take a moment to share my very first short story with you all. Please enjoy and leave some feedback. :)
Download it FREE atSmashwords.com
I wanted to take a moment to share my very first short story with you all. Please enjoy and leave some feedback. :)
Download it FREE atSmashwords.com
April 19, 2014
First Post Ever...
Hello One and All...For my first trick I will be enticing your imaginations with an excerpt of my Upcoming Novel "If Death Should Love Me"
Rome, Italy
1573
Inability to understand why he was so jealous of me perplexed me. It had been that way since he, himself told me that I had been chosen to be The Collector. It seems that he'd wanted this miserable position for himself. Once, Gabriel told me that it was much easier to care for the dead than it was to care for the living. The living desired too much, wanted undeserved things, fussed about everything. He no longer wanted to guard the living: they were too needy. He wanted to collect the dead. That was easier. Or so he thought.
The Higher Sources chose me in his stead.
Our grand debate? That he wanted my rank and I did not, and even still nothing could change. Such was our destinies. Be that as it may, he blamed me for a decision that was out of my control.
“Gabriel, I never asked for this. This was never my wish.” A weary tone filled my voice. I was exacerbated.
“Yet The Higher Sources found you apt for the calling? Why not I? Am I too holy? Too perfect?” The evil fury of jealousy in his voice made his lip twitch with repulsion.
“I do not know why Gabriel. I still can not understand what persuaded them to call upon me for this. But, if it's war you want, it will be war that you'll get! I won't back down!” I said in a stern voice, making him absolutely certain that I was not going to give up.
“Well my dearest Azriel, here is a great idea. Why not simply kill all the living? It seems like a simple enough solution to our problem. Do you not think?” His conniving tone made my insides turn. “If we kill the living, then all that will be left, is the dead. Problem solved! Then everyone will be happy.”
“Gabriel, I will not let that happen!”
“It seems to me like you cannot stop me. You only 'follow orders' remember?” He laughed. A silent evil laugh, deep in his throat. “I tend to think that religion is the perfect foundation for war. Tell you what: the winner get's a statue made of himself in the Cathedral. I'll make sure of it,” he continued.
“I don't want a statue and I will not let you do this!” That was my last warning.
“We shall see.” He stated finalizing his cynical speech.
The field was congested with an enormous multitude. Two colossal crowds on either side of each other. I could see weapons in some hands. Bibles, lit flames, torches and crosses in other hands. I saw robes of red and of black. Shields, swords and soldiers in armor.
The Protestant militia on one side, and the Catholic armada on the other. Their sole intent was to destroy one and other completely. Until nothing remained of the other side.
Either side believed that their god would save them and set them free and that 'truth' would prevail.
Gabriel was elated, utterly rejoicing with all the occurrences. You see, his goal was to destroy life. Nothing more and nothing less.
This was his revenge for not having had his way. For not being the chosen one. He wanted this! He thrived for it! He had made it his ultimate goal to obtain it.
I could see him floating around in the background, whispering into the ears of the soldier and guards. Uncertainty of what he was saying abounded, but whatever it was made them even angrier. They could not see him but I was sure they could hear his influences. To an extent, I was also sure that they believed him.
Their faces would change from fear to pure hatred: disgust for their opponents.
Suddenly, a cry in the distance rattled my attention. “Attack!”
The crowds thrust together with no mercy. Everything slowed down. Excitement and numbness filled the air. Their was a combination of hate, love, sorrow, violence, defiance and decision that flowed on the battle field between them.
It was hatred for their contenders. Love, for their faith. Sorrow, for their inevitable losses. But it was violence, defiance and decision that drove them.
The crowds flowed together swiftly and smoothly. Molten lava and scolding oil, they were. Melding within each other like liquified enmity. A tangled web of rancor.
I heard screams and cries. Clinging of metal against metal. The scent of fire and smoke streamed in the air with every gust of wind. The worst of it all, was the death toll. Dead believers and soldiers that gathered in the crowd seemed to think they were still alive, floating along with savage violence lingering in their eyes. I found myself in a mad rush to collect them all.
By this point Gabriel was crouched over, squatting on the top of the Cathedral's steeple seemingly pleased with himself. Smiling as though the knowledge that he was winning the battle was settling in.
What could I do? I had no idea how I could stop this. It was not my position. I was no longer a warrior either; I was a slave. A slave to my own existence. No longer meant for anything of purpose, other than the collection of passing souls. The fury of my incapacity seeped in like coal aflame through a thin sheet, igniting my anger.
I would do the only thing I could think of. Go after Gabriel! I refused to let him sit there and bask in whatever pleasure he obtained from all of this. I was already damned so worries of meaningless repercussions did not torment me. Nothing could be worse than already being condemned to this existence. Even still, I would not let Gabriel have his way. Not if I could do anything about it.
I flew to him. Anger, righteousness and pain overwhelming me. I'd never flown before that day. As the matter of fact it was the first time I'd realized that I could use my wings. Swiftly flying behind him, I grabbed him, wrapping my arms from behind, around his torso, making his wings useless. His body tensed and he stood to his feet as he tried his best to lift his arms and loosen my grip.
With all of the strength I could muster, I lifted one arm while still holding him firmly with the other and grabbed a hold of one of his wings, tearing it. Dislodging it from his back. I heard him screech and double over in pain.
A split second later he grabbed one of my arms a flipped me over. Refusing to let him go, we both fell from the roof top to the war ground below. As we fell, things seemed to slow down, then our eyes transformed—pupil, iris, sclera—mine to balls of brilliant gold, with flecks of opal and silver. Gabriel's, from soft blue to pure globes of angry sapphire.
When we hit the ground, I fell pinned beneath him but I would not give up. I kicked a leg up with all my might, making him fly from on top of me to behind me. Summoning my scythe and it came to me in a blink of an eye filling my empty hand. Gabriel saw me and summoned his sword, which also came to him as fast as his thought would allow.
We both leaped to our feet and crouched over into a battle stance, readying ourselves for the immanent war that was to take place between the two of us. I leaped, scythe in hand and swung with knowledgeable swiftness at Gabriel. Knowing that if I'd caught him, I would have quite literally sliced off his head.
My weapon made a whistling sound when it carved through the air and went for my nemesis. He barely dodged it and jumped back in order to then, almost immediately, lunge forward with his sword to swing at me.
“Azriel brother,” he mocked. “I cannot tell you how much I am enjoying this dance. Thank you.” He said sarcastically, breathing heavily as we danced around—a warriors dance.
Maliciousness had become his second nature. “I might not be able to stop the war you started Gabriel, but I will do my best to stop you!” I promised him.
Our dance continued for several minutes, then I heard a horn blow from the distance. The battle horn blew with a sound of triumph about it. I glanced over to see what had happened. One of the teams on the vast field had won this battle. In the split second that I turned to look over at the crowd, Gabriel disappeared.
Our battle did not end that night.
Decades later, a statue was built in his honor at that Cathedral. The thought curled a small wicked smile of anger on my mouth and a minimal shrug of contempt.
Stay tuned for my Upcoming Cover Reveal on May 1st, 2014!
