Monday, October 31, 2011
What is a 13th and 1 you ask? Let me tell you.
This is our 13th anniversary. Thirteen years of being together, of being in love, of not murdering the other in our sleep. It's also our first wedding anniversary. Last year, we really couldn't decide what we should call this upcoming event. Did we celebrate the general anniversary, because thirteen years is a long time and cool to say? Or did we focus only on the wedding anniversary, because that's what a lot of people talk about?
We decided to do both. Screw being conventional, or sticking to just one thing. So 13th and 1.
Next year won't be quite as confusing. I think. I mean, second wedding anniversary does sound okay...but then it will be fourteen years together. I've talked to cell users younger than that.
Saturday, October 29, 2011
...and I'm in the money round. Fucking awesome!
Again, much gratitude to my supporters for helping out. Last night was intense. I thought I was going to blow a gasket at the end. Thank you all.
This is the final round. Just until Monday night. What an anniversary gift.
So, one more time, let's go over and vote. Just One Bite.
Friday, October 28, 2011
Monday, October 24, 2011
But thanks to supportive family, I've gotten past the pain, and am working on adapting. Still waiting on little things, like if I qualify for unemployment, but am taking my new path.
I've decided to make this a catalyst, to finally make the changes I've wanted to for a while. Like being a freelance writer.
My husband had suggested I do it a while ago, but I just didn't have the time to work on articles, and my fiction, and a full-time job. Without that full-time job, I can certainly write new articles for income. I DO need an income, but I'm just looking at doing what will make me happy for the time being.
*crosses fingers* We shall see.
Saturday, October 22, 2011
Friday, October 21, 2011
- author unknown, age of writing unknown
Of all the slave races throughout the planes, dragons are far and beyond the most profitable and most entertaining. Why else are they in such high demand?
They are the least prone to disease and exhaustion. They are far more intelligent than the moulein of Tau Ceti. They have few limits to their strength and stamina.
When used in war or gladiatorial contests, they fight with an unbridled fury, faring well against multiple opponents. Dragons not only lust for battle, they are instinctual adept at it, needing little training or commands.
Equally at home in light or dark, hot or cold, desert or jungle, they adapt to any environment. They are natural planeswalkers, and their wings tap into aethereal winds, allowing them flight anywhere. While not fantastic sorcerers, they yet still manipulate the energies around them with innate skill.
The offspring are clutched in groups of two to six, and are raised equally by both parents. All members of the clan participate in educating the hatchlings, and will band together to defend their young. Babies remain in the creche for at least five years, gaining remarkable amounts of learning and training.
Do not think to separate babies from parents; a sub-telepathic bond exists that is required for proper development. Removing hatchling from parent before the proper time results in a stunted, animalistic creature that is of little use.
Once mental development is through, juveniles enter a rapid growth phase, bulking up to adult size. Their true ferocity comes out at this stage, the strength of personality and abilities following suit. Dominance and aggression are easy to find.
Male and female alike are spirited and strong, capable of breaking most mental bonds. Dragons have no language of their own, using full-fledged telepathy to enhance body postures and other subtle communications. Before they were conquered, many telepathic warriors underestimated dragons, and were lost to passionate mental attacks. Adopting our slave and bedroom languages did nothing to lessen their mental abilities.
A unique and intense soulfire fills every dragon, making concepts like passionate and fervor seem weak. Though deep and powerful, they do not use it often. Be heedful not to rouse it; worlds tremble before an angry dragon.
For all their obvious strengths, dragons have one tragic weakness: pride.
Every last one, from the oldest to the freshest hatched, from the most tame to the wildest, is filled with a deep and abiding pride. Every action they take, every war, every love, every thought, is attuned to standing amongst the clan.
Any dragon can be controlled by their pride, and can even be turned against each other in such a fashion. If carefully manipulated, a dragon can be kept in an emotional harness, and will willing serve their master. Keep them fighting, fucking, and feeding, and they may be kept docile. Or, as docile as a killing machine can be.
A deep mental bond is required to own a dragon, so that master is held as clan leader. Every action is dedicated to the clan, but no dragon will follow a weak leader. Owning a dragon is more than a status symbol; it's a full commitment to life-long battle.
[Redacted from later printings]
Beware the day they finally rise against us. Scorched destruction is all that will lay in their wake as they take their revenge. The battle to conquer them will seem a spring idyll compared to the war to survive them.
Now on Helium, too.
Monday, October 17, 2011
I don't talk about her often, here or in real life, but she was very important to me, and she was gone too early. There's so much I wish she were here to see.
The first six months after her death were hard, as I kept thinking of something I wanted to tell her, or something she would laugh about. Time has eased those wounds, but that doesn't mean it wouldn't be nice to have her physically around.
She is here though, every day, in my heart, mind and personality. She's the one who gave me my craving to learn, and encouraged my explorations. She didn't hold me back or hide things from me. She always told me to find out for myself, and not just blindly accept what someone else says.
Much of what I am is because of ow she raised me. Especially that part that hates algebra. 8P
So if yours is still around, go hug your mom.
Saturday, October 15, 2011
I was so unsure if I'd even get this far. I certainly didn't let myself imagine anything, or get my hopes up. So I don't know how I'm supposed to react right now.
All I know is I will appreciate your continued support. Thank you so much, my friends and readers, for all you've done so far, and for potentially carrying me all the way.
Vote for Just One Bite.
Friday, October 14, 2011
Neither dragon had been aware of the other until they both attacked the same beast. She swooped out of the sky, blue scales sparkling in the afternoon sun. He fired an arrow from a nearby tree, wearing an elven form to hunt.
~Who are you?~ she snarled mentally, mantling over the carcass. Her talons had severed the spine and gutted it.
His arrow had gone through its eye and lodged in its spine. "I ask you the same question." He may have been shaped like an elf, but his presence was all dragon as he approached.
Spittle flew from between her teeth as she lowered her head and snarled. Neither acknowledged the little fires she ignited. ~I am Conkra of the Azranis clan.~
He kept his shoulders back as he craned his head to look up at her. Conkra's nostrils were bigger than the shape-shifted dragon. "I am Vahlahrin, son of Mahlarin-"
~War leader of Azranis.~ She closed her eyes and lowered her snout. ~I had no idea.~ Even as Conkra gave him respect, she mantled over the bovine.
"Now you know why I hunt like this." Vahlahrin climbed the hairy slope of the beast.
Conkra opened an eye, tipping her head quizzically. ~Not merely for the challenge? You want to hide from the clan?~
He planted his feet on the summit of flesh, boldly holding her gaze. "You don't spend much time at the khaldera, do you?"
A hiss sent more flammable spit flying. ~The leader and I do not get along.~ Conkra lifted her head high and back, putting her neck and chest on display. ~I choose to fly alone.~
Vahlahrin laughed. "Then why do you question my desire to hide?"
Conkra held her wings out, throwing him into shadow as she rose up. ~I will not be laughed at.~
He snarled, the sound surprising from his slender frame. "And I will be shown deference by an outcast."
Lashing her tail and rearing onto her hind legs, Conkra challenged him. ~Take it from me if you can.~
Vahlahrin called on his true form. Magic shimmered in the air as he grew and morphed. The elf was replaced by a blue dragon, and he roared to announce his presence.
Conkra dipped her eyes briefly, but did not back down. Vahlahrin was larger than her, with an impressive rack of horns, and an enormous wingspan. He was larger than any other Azranis, even his father.
Vahlahrin kept his head up and back, wings mantled and low to the ground. ~Your last chance.~ He lifted lips from gleaming teeth.
Conkra struck, biting him on the nose.
Blood splattered and Vahlahrin roared. Conkra took to the air as he shot flames. Her tail lashed at his eyes and he followed her to the sky.
They battled across the heavens, slashing and strafing, biting and flaming. Their skills were matched, and neither scored a telling wound on the other. Neither dragon cared that they bled, nor that torn wings began to slow.
When anger turned to lust, they noticed.
Strikes were no longer meant to hurt, but to arouse. No longer did Vahlahrin and Conkra dodge each other. Instead, they rubbed and caressed, sharing their heat, stoking their desires.
When they finally landed, the ground shook with their consumation.
Hours later, bloody, exhausted, and sore, the dragons nestled together. Conkra pressed close to his side, licking one of Vahlahrin's wounds. ~Maybe I should come to the khaldera more often.~
Vahlahrin nipped behind her skull. ~I would enjoy that.~
Monday, October 10, 2011
First, I don't really get scared. (See Fraidy Cat post) Thus I don't have the mindset of fear, so I'm never sure I'm crafting the scene properly.
Second, I've never thought gore and shock equate to horror. A gush of blood and severed limbs just don't affect me like most people, hence why I use it differently in my stories.
Third, I don't understand the genre enough to know where I git in. Not that I couldn't learn, I just haven't.
I'm content to be me, writing stories with bite, no matter what genre they might fall into.
Sunday, October 9, 2011
A few tweaks still need to be worked in, but that's nothing compared to the major overhaul.
Also put up three new stories about Morrigana:
Hello - Kyra introduces herself
An elf's pain - Elthanael isn't handle things so well
An elf's relief - Kyra fixes what is wrong with Elthanael
Friday, October 7, 2011
Especially the big warriors. All that strength and power in absolute supplication really stirs my passion.
The remorseless fighter awaiting me now was gorgeous in all the ways I appreciated. Tall, broad shouldered, long limbed, and hard blue eyes. The kind of steely eyes that would make men tremble and women faint. The kind of eyes that showed more emotion over a well-made meal than a gutted baby.
It had been too long since one like this had prayed to me. I hid my joy, and acknowledged his presence.
He remained on his knees, showing the proper respect for a war goddess. Too many men had looked down on me because I had cunt not cock.
"I beseech Seigny, Goddess of Winter Victories. Grant me your blessing. Make me your avatar on the physical realm."
"You do not start small," I said, drawing in his scent. Male musk, and blood, and smoke, and death. Absolutely delicious. I craved to ride this one to war.
Even on his knees, hands behind his back, there was nothing truly submissive about him. He stared up at me with such strength and pride, his aura full of bloodlust and the need for battle.
That strength was tempered by intelligence and respect for the immortal world. His supplication was not just to pay lip service to a goddess. Nor did it gall him to bend and allow another to have control.
I'd never seen a warrior like him, let alone been asked to take one as an avatar. He wanted me and my powers, wanted to use them to bring my name back to Earth.
The choice was obvious. I laid my hand over his heart, and he bowed his head. He hadn't managed to hide his triumphant smirk, and I laughed while I expanded his soul.
He'd known he'd be chosen the entire time. I could do much with this one.
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Wow. What can I say?
First, thank you to my readers and friends for voting. The support means a lot to me. Afterall, you are the reason I went public with my writing.
Second, OMG, I made it to the second round!
Now the competiton gets stiffer. I ask for your continued support. Please sign back in and vote some more. Convince friends, family, strangers on the street, or anyone who will listen to come support a hot and sexy vampire story.
Monday, October 3, 2011
That lesson has stuck with me.
Sometimes, having a constant subconscious disconnect from the events of a story is a detriment. I just don't get caught up in the moment, never suffer any ill-effects.
Notable exceptions are Dean Koontz's Phantoms and the American remake of The Grudge.
Koontz is wonderful at creating suspense, at teasing you, and leaving plenty of room for your imagination to fill in. Not that I was screaming in terror, but I definitely got spooked.
The Grudge had all the right elements, and used them well. Ghosts are spooky, because you can't do anything to them. Then touching wet hair in the bathtub just had me cringing. And that croaky-groan noise! *shudders*
What made The Grudge especially scary was that it violated childhood rules; you're safe under the covers. That scene scared the bejeezus out of me.