A Week of Life Where I Didn’t Really Do Much

First, check out the first review of War of Nytefall: Lost by N.N. Light.  Thank you for the kind words.  They were a great way to end the week.

Guess I’ll start with an update to the Teaching Assistant path.  I’ve submitted to several jobs, but have been told that I can’t really be considered until I get the certification.  It’s another week before the test is processed and the transcripts will take 4-8 weeks because bureaucracy is challenging in both practice and spelling.  That means I’m probably sitting on my butt for October unless I hear back about the monitor job.  It’s not a full day position, but it’s something that will put me in the school system.  I did a few monitoring shifts as a substitute and they were a lot of fun.  Just watching the kids have fun brought a smile to my face.  Was more enjoyable than the times I stayed in the classroom alone with nothing to do because I wasn’t allowed to leave.  Eh, that was the past and Florida.  I’m anxious to work now.

One reason that I keep saying I’ll be sitting on my butt is because I still can’t get the author mojo to work.  I completed all of the posts for December, but that took a lot longer than it usually would.  Don’t trust myself with attempting a new book even though 4 weeks is what it would take for me to do it.  If I can get any energy back then maybe I can start on the next Ichabod Brooks collection, but I’m not holding my breath.  The fear of people getting angry at me for writing is still strong.  I know it’s hard for everyone to understand since I can’t go into the details, but there’s a lot of anxiety surrounding my writing right now.  Even when writing a post that has all of my characters talk about the holidays, I got nervous and wasn’t sure if I got their voices right.  I don’t hear them when I daydream or go to bed either.  All I get is stress and worry revolving around what I’m dealing with at this time.  So, a new project might be tossing something important into the abyss instead of being productive.

That really only leaves me with Derailing Bedlam, which needs edits before I start putting it up on the blog starting in November.  Part of me feels bad about doing this to Cassidy and Lloyd, but I want the finished story to see the light of day.  I’ve played with the idea of doing a collection of Crossing, Chasing, and Derailing way down the road.  Maybe write up a 4th to put at the end to make it worthwhile.  Again, the issue is money, time, and if people are really interested.  I’ve noticed many times that I get a lot of praise for the ideas on my blog and excitement about a release, but that doesn’t transfer to sales.  This makes it very difficult to know what to do for future releases or to even continue with some ideas.  ‘Bedlam’ has never sold well, but people love Lloyd on the blog.  How am I supposed to play to that besides putting it on the blog?

The coming week is going to be busy too.  School is out on Monday and Tuesday will be filled with a few errands.  It will also be the start of me getting the house to myself during the day for about a month.  Being left with my own thoughts is fairly dangerous now.  In the past, I could buckle in for some great writing time.  Maybe even editing, which I could do here with Derailing Bedlam and War of Nytefall: Rivalry.  These days, I’m more prone to sit on the couch and overthink my life until it’s nearly evening.  We’ll see what happens here.  Thursday is my wife’s birthday too, so we’re spending that day seeing ‘Venom’ and having lunch.  At least, that’s what I think is happening, but I can never tell these days.

Sadly, that’s really all I have to talk about.  I wish I had new ideas that were coming to me and I could share them.  The well isn’t so much dry, but it’s definitely been boarded up for now.  I keep coming back to this, but I’ve been trying to revive my imagination and I’m not getting anywhere.  Things keep happening on that personal life front that continues to knock me down.  In fact, there have been points this week where I simply felt like giving up on a few things.  When you’re the only person fighting for something for so long, it feels like the target is impossible.  Humans are social animals and we don’t function very well when we feel like we’ve been ostracized and hated.

What are the goals?

  1. Finish reading ‘Bleach’.
  2. Start reading ‘Ghost in the Shell’.
  3. Possibly begin editing Derailing Bedlam.
  4. Cooking and cleaning.
  5. Watch a little more ‘Naruto’.
  6. Wife’s birthday celebration complete with present surprises.
  7. Start playing ‘Lego Star Wars II’ with son since he earned it by facing some of his fears.
  8. Submit to more TA jobs.
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Raven’s Wrath Part 6 #horror #thriller #Halloween

(Someone left a contact lens at Part 5. Might want to click here and pick it up.)

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The pungent smell of kerosene lanterns is nauseating and nearly causes Dawn to pass out again. She is saved by a gasmask being put over her face, the inside dotted with an aromatic oil to help block the stench. Looking through the yellow-tinted lenses, she can see that they are in a dome-shaped cavern. None of the locals are wearing masks thanks to years of living within the stifling conditions. There is a sickly tint to their skin and their pupils are barely visible, which makes their eyes appear white at first glance. Tents have been arranged in square groupings with fencing around each one to create front and backyards. Communal buildings are motorhomes that have had their wheels removed since there is nowhere to go underground. Numbers are on cardboard flags that stick out of the top of the structures, all of them written in gold and fringed with glitter. Hearing whispers, Dawn looks up to see that there are ropes leading to a network of walkways near the ceiling. She can barely make out the distant forms standing on the suspended bridges, their gloved hands pressed against the densely packed dirt.

“Scavengers and bandits,” the woman mutters before she remembers Kara. She breathes a sigh of relief when she finds the girl lying behind her, a gasmask already on her face. “The stench must have knocked both of us out. Don’t see the person who slapped this on me. Hey, it’s time to wake up and keep moving.”

“Children need more sleep,” a robotic voice says from nearby. Coming out from behind a dumpster, a scraggly man in a toy mask limps over to the outsiders. “Let the little one rest since she will have to find work soon. Both of you will. Once you come to the underside, you can never leave. We need more breeders too. That is why we risked our fingers to save you. The little one came because a mother would never wish to be separated from her child. Please know that you must take a job and a husband.”

“This is why I live alone,” Dawn mutters as she picks the girl up. She frowns at the feeling of Kara’s rapid heartbeat and notices that her hands are clammy. “As thankful as I am for you rescuing us, I don’t think we can stay here. This girl . . . My daughter is obviously sick. She was fine before we came down here. If I had to guess, I’d say she’s having an allergic reaction to either the kerosene or whatever you put in the mask.”

“Her scent is a combination of lilacs and peanut oil,” the man claims, his gnarled fingers scratching his rash-covered head. He watches as the woman hastily switches masks with the gasping girl, the bigger one difficult to keep in place. “I do remember allergies being an issue before the destruction. Perhaps that is why so many are weak and others have died. I will tell the other elders about this knowledge. Now, what job and husband do you wish to take? I can see that you would be a useful nurse and two of our doctors have a spot in their harem.”

Struggling to breathe in the small mask, Dawn gives up and angrily tears it off. “I can handle this world long enough to get out. Show me to the exit because I have no intention of being in a harem. My daughter and I are heading for the Grand Caravan. That’s where we will reunite with her father, who is a powerful man. He’ll come with his soldiers to find us if we’re gone for too long.”

“Then, all of them will join us.”

“Pretty confident there.”

“Nobody ever leaves the underside.”

“Has anyone ever tried?”

“Yes, and we have built monuments to them.”

Watching the man walk over to a pedestal, Dawn takes the opportunity to look for an escape route. She doubts that she can make it through the town, so the only path is a rope that will take her to the walkways. A sputtering snore reminds her that Kara is asleep and possibly sick, which makes such a climb impossible. Hearing a constant squeak, Dawn’s attention falls on a pulley-operated elevator that is not very far away. An idea begins to form in her mind when the man coughs in his robotic voice, his hand hovering over a blue button. She smiles warmly in the hopes of hiding her intentions, the expression briefly becoming a mad grin that causes the local to reach for a gun on his hip. Clearing her throat, Dawn hangs her head and walks forward to make it look like she is being obedient. As soon as she is standing at the pedestal, the man hits the button and the hum of a generator echoes across the cavern.

“They will always be remembered,” he whispers as electric flood lights in the floor come to life. They shine on a collection of suspended skeletons that are wearing gasmasks and have been posed to look like they are climbing. “We could not let their bodies leave, so we let the spirits travel to the dangerous outside world. They were foolish and paid the price. Look at them and see that it is not the true path. Down here, the monsters never harm us. They do not even know we exist and that is for the best. Now, please choose a job and a husband.”

“Definitely a persuasive argument,” Dawn says as she steps away. Hearing movement, she stares at the display and notices that there is a fleshy body in the back. “You hang them alive and let the flesh rot off? You have the gall to call the two up there monsters when you’re doing something just as bad if not worse. This is what drives me nuts about humans. You do such horrible things to each other, but rationalize it while condemning others for be equally as evil and sadistic. A beast kills one of you and has to be put to death. Yet, a man commits murder and is simply locked away. At least Ian and Addison have an excuse for looking down on humans since they’re so powerful. What the hell goes through your head when you’re doing this to someone who simply wanted to leave?”

“I don’t understand the question,” he answers, his robotic voice sputtering. He blows a whistle that calls the other citizens to the area, many of them holding chained hooks and syringes. “It’s sad that you could not make it a day. We need more breeders and the little one could have helped with the smaller tunnels. She can still be saved, but you will have to be put in the monument. I promise that the woman who cares for your daughter will bring her to visit as often as she can.”

Gripping Kara to her chest, Dawn backs towards the monument until she hits the railing that is slick with damp blood. She scans the crowd for any spot that she can charge through, but the citizens have created an impenetrable wall of bodies. With nowhere else to go, she climbs over the barrier and enters the display, which causes the mob to pause. They are unsure if they should follow into what is considered unholy ground and whisper about who is willing to be sacrificed to catch Dawn. The flicker of hope in her heart is dashed when a child throws a syringe and nearly gets her in the eye. Following his example, the others begin hurling the needles with very little precision. A scratch on the leg sends a quiver up her leg, the numbing agent potent enough that even a drop will have an effect. Lining up behind the throwers, the men with hooked chains wait for the order to attack and drag the woman out of the monument.

A loud crash from above stops the attack and the citizens look up at the sound of a blood-curdling scream. Everyone scatters at the sight of an ebony beak pulling a man out of the cavern by his head. Once the hole is clear, an enormous flock of ravens swarm underground and dive at the people who are trying to get into their tents. The giant bird on the surface continues stabbing holes in the ceiling until the dirt collapses and exposes the entire animal. It refuses to drop into the confined space, but it quickly snatches up those who are hanging onto the remains of the walkways. A cluster of ravens knock over a motorhome and get inside through a shattered window, which inspires the others to do the same. Tents are shredded and sent flying while the hungry birds enjoy their feast. Hearing an echoing caw from the giant raven, the groups begin to grab people and lift them high enough to feed to their companion. Throughout the massacre, Dawn and Kara cower beneath the skeletons that help to shield them from view.

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Guest Post: Is Animal Heaven Broken by Tim Willow

(Say hello to Tim Willow and check out his blog.  Link after this fun post.)

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When things get bad for me, I pray to God.

When things get really bad I drink vodka martinis.

On this day I felt close to God but may also have been drinking vodka martinis.

The world started spinning and I almost felt like I was outside my body.

Feeling Beyond Death

I woke up in a field of grass,filled with sheep. Beyond my field all I could see was more fields filled with grass. The sheep all eating.

I could hear the rip of the grass as they tore it from the ground.

I could not tell if I had died or if I was dreaming.

The sheep closest to me, looked at me strangely.

“Hello,” the sheep said ” I’m supposed to show you round.”

Free Food

“Everything you can see, and as far as you can walk is edible. It’s also free.”

“You can eat as much as you want,whenever you want.”

The sheep showed me everything. “Do you have any questions?”

“Yes” I said. “I’m not a sheep.”

“That’s not a question,” the sheep said.

“How did I get here?” I asked.

A visitation

It was the strangest thing – I heard a voice behind me.

“Hello, I’m God.”

I turned around and faced him. He looked and sounded exactly like me.

An exact mirror image.

“Yes,I know what you’re thinking,” God said. “I tend to appear in the form of what you value the most.”

“However, I think there’s a glitch somewhere.”

“This is sheep heaven and you hate yourself, so I don’t really know what’s happening.”

Heavenly Glitch

“I think I’ll have to send you back.”

“Try and cut back on the vodka,” my mirror image said.

“Oh and eat more lamb. There’s a shortage up here”

“Isn’t that just like the world below?” I asked.

“Heavens gotta eat.” God said.

I opened my eyes.

I was in a field of grass filled with sheep. Beyond my field all I could see was more fields filled with grass, the sheep ripping the grass from the earth.

“Baaaaaa,” I said.

I started ripping the grass from the earth. It tasted so good.

october-31-2017-at-1056am

Tim Willow

Thanks for reading. Please think of me the next time you eat lamb.

Thank you :

I’d like to thank Charles for including me as a guest writer.

If you want to check out my blog – the rebelfish – and follow please do so.

There are many posts in a similar vein to this piece.

There will be at least 2 new posts a week.

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Sites That Pay You For Your Writing

Nicholas C. Rossis's avatarNicholas C. Rossis

Make money writing-finance | From the blog of Nicholas C. Rossis, author of science fiction, the Pearseus epic fantasy series and children's book

Making it as a writer is tough. But if you love writing, you can’t imagine doing anything else. Maybe these links, compiled by freelance writer Jasmine Eclipse, will help you find some paid work to help you make a career out of your passion!

Sites that pay you for your writing

Babble

  • Pay: This Disney company pays up to $150 per article
  • Topics: Family, parenting, lifestyle

Cracked

  • Pay: Up to $250 per article
  • Topics: Comedy, pop culture, personal experiences

Paste Magazine

  • Pay: ~$50 per article (in the form of feature profiles, essays, reviews)
  • Topics: Music, TV, video games

Dorkly

  • Pay: ~$75 per article
  • Topics: Video games, anime, pop culture

Confrontation Magazine

  • Pay: Up to $200 per article
  • Topics: Short stories, poetry, nonfiction

Affiliate sites for writers

  • Mixbook — 15% per sale and $20 affiliate bonuses
  • Blurb — 15% per sale, plus affiliate bonuses and free products
  • Grammarly — $20…

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The 2018 Interview Series with Author Tristan Drue Rogers

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Don Massenzio This week Author and Blogger Tristan Drue Rogers is featured in my 2018 Author interview series. Please check out the interview where you can learn about Tristan’s book and what motivates his writing. Please enjoy meeting and learning … Continue reading

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Raven’s Wrath Part 5 #horror #thriller #Halloween

(Curiouser . . . Curiosuer . . . Curioser . . . Ah, things are getting mysterious.)

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“Don’t pull that one,” Dawn says as she catches Kara by the wrist. Moving the girl’s hand to another tuft of vegetation, she draws her knife and stabs into the ground. “The ones with a gold vein in the middle are regular plants. Anything else becomes either a beast or a trap once it’s pulled out. The trick is to dig it up along with two inches of surrounding soil. This only works for carrots, radishes, and beets. Don’t try it with potatoes since Ian is the one behind those and he isn’t consistent with his clues. Honestly, I tend to use an explosive and gather up the chunks just to be safe.”

“Where do you find explosives?” the girl asks after she nervously pulls up a carrot. She puts it in her satchel instead of the basket, which only has three apples and a plucked duck. “You know a lot about how to survive out here. More than any other person that I’ve met. Did you grow up on a caravan and learn from other people dying? That’s how I figured out what to do like knocking apples down with rocks.”

“You’re actually the first person I’ve traveled with in . . . I don’t remember ever traveling with anyone,” the woman admits with a smirk. A twitch of her eyebrow causes her to cough and she shakes her head clear of a mental fog. “Sorry about that. I get a headache if I think too much about my past. Bad things happened and I’d prefer to forget. Seems the only things I can really remember are the signs that those monsters left behind. Just enough to stay alive, but I still have to stay on my toes. Let’s go this way because there’s a valley with some small pigs that we can grab. They’re no bigger than my fist, so you can catch and cook those suckers to make tiny bacon balls.”

“I never had bacon before.”

“Guess it would be hard to come by these days.”

“What’s over there?”

“Not sure, but I’d rather avoid it.”

“But it looks delicious.”

Tugging Dawn by the hand, Kara leads her towards a hill that is topped with a white powder. The girl suddenly stops when she remembers a friend running into a patch of cold that flash froze the boy. She picks one of her apples to throw at the falling flakes and watches as it lands with an echoing plop. With the fruit remaining intact, she continues on and takes comfort from her companion’s silence. Looking over her shoulder, Kara can see that Dawn is checking the sky more than the ground. The woman’s eyes repeatedly dart back to a single cloud that looks no different than the others. Feeling foolish for her childish excitement, the girl slows down until she comes to a stop at the edge of the white circle. They are still too far away to see over the hill, but the pair can see brown mushrooms peeking out from beneath the layer of strange powder. A gentle breeze brings the smell of brownies to their noses, which causes them to take a few steps back.

Kara is about to ask a question when Dawn covers her mouth and nods to their right, her tongue quickly darting in and out. They carefully make their way around the cascade of powdered sugar and stop once they get a clear view of the other side. As if they have passed through an invisible wall, the pair are struck by a chorus of laughter and screams. Shouts are indecipherable due to the noise that rises from all of the people running around a roofless factory. Ranging from children to the elderly, everyone is gleefully indulging in the pastries that are being created along the maze of conveyor belts and ovens. Suspended in midair, containers filled with nuts, sprinkles, and cream filling randomly spurt into the mixing bowls that violently spin below. At the far end of the building sits a truck that is being filled with food, the patient driver sunning himself on top as cloaked figures do the heavy lifting.

Taking a step forward, Dawn and Kara freeze when they see an old woman pursue a wedding cake into an oven. The six-tiered dessert comes out with a red tint and a fiery skull on top, which is knocked off by a pack of kids that pounce on the food. After seeing one death, the pair begin to notice others casually sacrificing themselves for even a taste of the pastries. A family of five dive into one of the mixing bowls and laugh until they have been thoroughly mixed into the dough. A young girl races her friend toward a shower of chocolate, which hardens as soon as they are out of the cascade. The sound of grinding gears draws their attention to one of the conveyor belts, which is gradually expelling a pulverized body that is brought into the oven alongside trays of cookies. Nothing slows the production down and the cloaked workers never react to the carnage that is surrounding them. Overcome by a sudden bout of curiosity, Kara starts to ask about the figures when a gust of wind reveals a robotic head that possesses a human nose. She is on the verge of rushing back down the hill when Dawn steps in her way and catches her by the shoulders.

“Don’t make any sudden moves,” the woman whispers, her eyes searching the sky. Not seeing the cloud that had caught her attention earlier, she slowly leads the girl away from the factory. “Hard to tell which one is behind this place. Addison could have let her sweet tooth take over, but she does have a limit when it comes to cannibalism. There’s a callousness to the whole thing too, which makes me think Ian. Either way, we really should get out of here before one of them shows up.”

“Wait, have you seen the monsters?” Kara asks in surprise. An explosion from the factory causes her to jump and the fear helps her focus on moving slowly. “I saw one of them from far away when I was six. They were created a tornado and sending it after a farmer who used to give me milk. I don’t know where he landed, but his cows were turned into steaks. The monster went to the south after that, so the caravan I was with traveled north. At least that’s what the adults said we did.”

Barely listening to the story, the woman skids to a stop at the sight of a strange line in the dirt. “We have a fifty-fifty shot here. Going forward could mean we’re safe, but it could trigger something bad. It never kills a person right away, so crossing the line still gives us a chance at survival. Although, I’ve only done that alone. Having two people could change how things operate. Dammit, I don’t want to make a mistake here. Maybe we should go back and walk around that factory. It isn’t the exact path that we need to take, but it must be safer than the unknown.”

Kara happens to look up in time to see a cloud sprout legs and start walking towards the ground. Calmly poking Dawn in the side, she watches as pale arms emerge from the dark gray fluff. The woman tackles the girl to the ground when she sees the weaving hands tear away the disguise to reveal Ian’s face. Instead of showing his entire body, he stretches his neck to get his head free of the cloud. He spits lightning down at the factory, which emits a droning hum and grows three stories tall. More trucks appear on the far end with ramps leading down from the higher levels. Electricity crackles around the concrete and brick, the energy waiting for the machines inside to sputter a call for more power. Brown smoke rings explode from the roofless building and gather to create an ephemeral chain that goes into the upper atmosphere. Another blast of lightning flies across the sky and splits into four parts. Each one hits a corner of the factory and creates a cake-shaped sign that spins.

Ian pulls himself entirely free of the cloud when the entire area rumbles and the trees sink into the earth. Fearing that they are about to be exposed to the monster, Dawn picks up Kara and jumps over the line. Instantly, the hill and factory disappear from sight and are replaced by a placid lake. Standing on the shore, neither of them are sure if they should take another step. The girl grunts and nods at the sight of a body floating to the surface in the center of the lake, which is sprouting lily pads. The corpse is of a man, whose has obviously drowned and has his lips stuck in a kissing position. His chest has an ugly bruise on each side, the middle of them showing the faint outline of thigh bones. A flock of ravens appear on the opposite coast, but the birds are facing in the opposite direction of the travelers. Fearing that they are about to be discovered, Kara backs away while Dawn remains locked in place, the sight stirring a memory in the woman’s head.

The scene is shattered by an explosion from the factory, which is fully in view now that the hill has been split in half. Ian stands amid the wispy remains of the smoke rings, which are dripping boiling liquid on the screaming people below. Showing no concern for them, he watches as a large foot in a stiletto heel swings out of the clouds. The disembodied limb puts a hole in the building’s side and shoves it half a mile away, which causes the entire landscape to stretch in that direction. With a sigh, Ian claps his hands to fix the earth by having it snap back into place. Several of the people on the top floor are sent flying out of the windows, their flailing bodies bouncing into the distance. As the chaos beings to reach a fevered pitch, the reality-bender grows to the size of a skyscraper and shoves the factory underground. Lacking a target, the feminine leg angrily taps its foot as it fades away and leaves only the narrow heel of its crimson pump behind.

“I think he’s going to leave, so just don’t move,” Dawn says through clenched teeth. She watches as Ian shrinks back to his normal size, her legs poised to run if he shows any sign of turning around. “If we’re lucky, this was a plan to trap Addison and it failed. That means he’s focused on his own thoughts, so he’ll wander off without noticing us. Come on, Connors. Go away and leave us alone.”

“The ground feels funny,” Kara whispers as her foot sinks into the dirt.

Not hearing the girl, Dawn watches as Ian starts to face them, his movements sluggish and jerky. His body repeatedly returns to its original position in the blink of an eye, the effect similar to a video getting stuck in a loop. Punching through the clouds, the crimson sun covers the reality-bender in a beam of yellow light that stops his physical stuttering. Before Ian can see Dawn and Kara, four gloved hands slip out from below and grab the frozen travelers by the ankles. Neither of them scream as they are yanked beneath the surface, which is abruptly paved over by a thick layer of fresh asphalt.

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Dirty Dozen Author Interview – Linda Jordan – Here Be Ghosts Bundle

eranamage's avatarLibrary of Erana

Author name: Linda Jordan

~What first prompted you to publish your work? Alfred Lets Loose is one of those magical stories that came to me just as I was waking up one morning. I could hear the voice of the main character and had the story unravel itself before I even made it to a standing position. I can’t remember how long it took me to write, but it’s rare that a story comes to me all spooling out like that. It’s a wonderful experience.

~Are you a ‘pantser’ or a ‘plotter’? I started out as a plotter, but have turned into a pantser. I read Dean Wesley Smith’s book Writing Into the Dark and I was convinced that was the way to go for me. We have very similar problems with being easily bored. After I outlined a book, I no longer wanted to write it.

Making the…

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Raven’s Wrath Part 4 #horror #thriller #Halloween

(Really hope people realized these are links to the previous scene.)

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Kara wakes with a jump and coughs up some sand, which tells her that passing out in the desert was not a dream. She freezes at the sound of something crackling behind her back and wraps her sore body around her satchel. With her hands near her face, she catches a strange smell on her skin and realizes that she is no longer covered in dirt. The girl’s clothes are the same, but have been cleaned and the holes patched with a rough blue fabric. Finding the courage to roll over, she discovers that she is only a few feet away from a fire and is inside a cave that resembles a large geode. Sitting up, Kara has trouble seeing beyond the flames that give off only a few wisps of smoke. Her legs are too weak for her to stand, so she crawls to the exit with the intention of escaping. Stories of cannibals and monsters run through her mind as she gets closer to what she believes is freedom. She stops when a bellowing roar erupts from the darkness and a crack of lightning shows the silhouette of an enormous beast. The girl cannot bring herself to move another inch and wets herself out of fear before flopping onto her side.

“Addison calls him Tony,” a voice says from the rear of the cavern. The sound of splashing water echoes off the dull crystals, which reveal a hazy form in their facets. “He only comes out on Monday nights, so you can leave in the morning. Although, Bruno may be on the prowl since she never seems to know if she’s supposed to be out on Tuesday mornings or evenings. I’d recommend staying with me for a few days. You were barely alive when I found you in the desert and the Thursday gargantuan is totally blind. That’s the best day to get you to wherever you were going.”

“Are you going to eat me?” Kara asks, the question the only thing on her mind. She is surprised to hear a melodic laugh and a package of apple slices lands near her. “That doesn’t help. My parents told me about cannibals. Fatten up your victims and use them for protein since other meat is so hard to come by. Well, I refuse to eat any of your food unless you promise not to eat me.”

“Kids are so strange these days,” the woman replies with a sigh. Her reflection shows her climbing out of a pool and grabs a towel to wrap around her body. “I have no intention of making a meal out of the first person I’ve seen in years. Meat is rather plentiful in this area if you know where to look and have no standards. I killed a few skunks while you slept. At least, I think they’re skunks. Never know these days, but a meal is a meal. By the way, you were lucky to have that cloak on because it covered you enough to prevent a really bad burn. I’m assuming your parents prepared you for that and didn’t make it across the desert. Seems to happen a lot where kids are the ones to survive because of the sacrifices of their parents. You might want to come further into the cavern to be safe.”

Grabbing the food, the girl crawls back to where she had woken up and sits facing the largest of the reflections. She is unable to see the details of her savior, but she can tell that the image is strangely colored. It takes her a few minutes to realize that the white parts are the woman’s torso and hips while the limbs are a dark tan bordering on a sunburn. Kara yelps and turns away when she thinks her spying has been discovered due to a large pair of hazel eyes appearing on the crystals. A warm smile emerges near the bottom of the glistening stones and fades away to show that its owner is rubbing on a clear lotion. Instead of coming into the open, the woman takes a seat at the edge of the pool and repeatedly scoops up a handful of water to drip onto her shoulders. Curiosity getting the best of her, the girl leans close to one of the clearer reflections and thinks she sees a layer of skin slough off along with the cascading liquid. The nearly burned coloration gradually changes to a simple tan with flecks of red that briefly disappear every time they are patted with a towel.

“It hurts more than you would think,” the woman says before pulling off a thin layer of blistered skin. She tosses the damaged flesh away and the sounds of scurrying mice erupt from behind the walls. “I was in the forest when I spotted you in the desert. Thought I could run out there without a cloak and get you back before the sun did some damage. Must have become hotter than the last time I went. You know how the landscape changes nearly every day. I’d be dead if I didn’t know about this place. Lucky for both of us that Addison believes hot springs can heal anything and aloe erases burns like magic. Funny how the crazier of the two monsters might be the more benevolent. Then again, they might be equal in insanity, but they’re two different flavors. Either way, they aren’t normal. Nope, Addison still refuses to believe there’s any fun in normal. Sorry for rambling. What’s your name and where are you heading? Maybe I can help you out.”

“I’m Kara Stein,” the girl replies while rummaging through her bag. Pulling out a patchwork doll shaped like a large cockroach, she opens a zipper on the belly and pulls out a crayon drawing of her family. “I was with a small group that was hoping to join up with the Grand Caravan. If you’re out here by yourself then you probably haven’t heard of the migration that’s been going on for the last year. There’s a haven that the monsters can’t get into, which everyone is heading towards. All we have to do is travel around the world. It’s possible ever since the oceans disappeared.”

“Another foolish bauble of hope,” the brown-haired woman mutters. Walking out of view of the crystals, she can be heard opening a drawer. “Sorry to be a cynic, but these places keep turning up. Edens, havens, sanctuaries, and every other synonym that fits the concept. In reality, you’re probably playing a game of Addison’s because she got bored with Ian. Many will die and just enough will survive to make sure more humans will be around for the next time she wants to goof off. Still, it’s a better fate than when Ian gets angry and decides to go on a killing spree to drawn Addison out. Those two are such children.”

“Do you know the monsters?”

“We’ve had some encounters over the years.”

“And you survived?”

“Usually through dumb luck.”

“So, you won’t bring me to the Grand Caravan?”

“Well, I can’t live with myself if I let a child wander off alone.”

“I like you. What’s your name?”

Climbing over the wall of crystals that separate the front of the cave from the spring, the woman drops to the ground. Kara can only stare at her muscular limbs, which have been toned from years of surviving in the wilderness. Her boots are covered in scuffmarks and the shorts have a belt with pouches sewn into the waist. The sheath for a large knife is on one hip while a holster for a pistol is on the other, the weapons nowhere to be seen. With her sunburns still sensitive, she can only wear a strapless bra and keeps her black t-shirt delicately draped over her peeling shoulder. Damp and dripping on the floor, her brown hair goes down to her waist. The woman sits with her back to the flames to help her tresses dry, her fingers mindlessly playing with a black scrunchie. There is a warmth to her smile, but a coldness in her eyes that lingers if one meets her gaze for too long. Pulling a carrot stick out of her pocket, she puts it in her mouth like a cigar and slowly eats it without her hands.

“My name is Dawn. Nice to meet you,” the woman says as she extends her callused hand to the girl.

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Ten Things Not to Do on a Guest Post for Charles Yallowitz (By John Howell)

(A big welcome to John and a thank you for this funny post.  Everyone enjoy!)

The inspiration for this post was an invitation to join Charles for a guest slot. In thinking on what I could write about it came to me that he and I have two different worlds in which we write. He is an excellent fantasy author, and I do thrillers. I put on my imagination hat and started to think of all the characters and situations one could run into if you visited Charles’ place. If you get a chance to join Charles on his blog keep this list handy.

10 If you are guest posting on Charles Yallowitz’s blog, do not drink anything. If you do, at best it will really be water. At worst, it will be one of the potions that can cause a horn to grow out of your forehead. (Now don’t you look foolish Christopher. At least you have a place to hang your hat.)

9 If you are guest posting on Charles Yallowitz’s blog, do not bring Tiny the WWF champ along for the ride. If you do, at best he’ll want to stay in the car. At worst, he will come in and be confronted by a winged dragon. (Now you’ll have to pay for that missing wall, Caleb. You forgot that Tiny doesn’t use doors when he is afraid.)

8 If you are guest posting on Charles Yallowitz’s blog, do not touch any buttons. If you do, at best you’ll hit the deli delivery button. At worst, your button will cause the floor to fall away. ( And now, Cameron you can be heard screaming as you continue to drop through the seven layers of hell in the bottomless abyss.)

7 If you are guest posting on Charles Yallowitz’s blog, do not pick up that magic bow. If you do, at best the spell has been lifted. At worst, you’ll find yourself in another land being chased by a herd of stainless steel horned water buffalo. ( Maybe you can catch a stray Griffen and fly out of harm’s way, Connor.)

6 If you are guest posting on Charles Yallowitz’s blog, do not talk to anyone who has the first name of Dawn. If you do, at best you might get a good morning. At worst, you could find yourself holding your own severed head while trying to put out the fire in your pants. (You really didn’t say anything wrong, Christian. Dawn Addison is a very unusual individual is all.)

5 If you are guest posting on Charles Yallowitz’s blog, do not go into the Ye Olde Spell Shoppe. If you do, at best you’ll look and not buy. At worst, you’ll be convinced to try the invisible spell only to discover there is no antidote. (You’ve seen the movie “The Invisible Man,” haven’t you, Cody. Just get a wrap for your head and some really weird sunglasses. No one will know until you take them off.)

4 If you are guest posting on Charles Yallowitz’s blog, do not sit on that comfy looking chair. If you do, at best the chair will recognize you as an innocent. At worst, it is a follower of one of the evil ones and is now consuming you as if it were a venus flytrap. (I’ve heard a little cayenne pepper will make it stop, Cole. Oh, you don’t have any. Well, see you around.)

3 If you are guest posting on Charles Yallowitz’s blog, do not accept a ride home in a jeep from anyone named Cassidy who has a sidekick named Lloyd. If you do, at best your home is only a block away. At worst, you will find yourself on a wild ride that will make Mr. Toad look like a geriatric. (So tired of being shot at huh Carlos? Ask Lloyd if you can borrow a gun, so maybe you can shoot back. All he has is a grenade launcher? Well that will do.)

2 If you are guest posting on Charles Yallowitz’s blog, do not joke about hiring Ichabod Brooks the mercenary to take out your Fantasy Football rival. If you do, at best he will be too busy. At worst, you will get an invoice for services rendered plus expenses. (The one thing you don’t want to do right now, Cooper is not paying the bill. Yes, your joke went too far, but at least you may win the league championships. Not paying has dire consequences.)

1 If you are guest posting on Charles Yallowitz’s blog, do not pick up any bunnies that you think are strays. If you do, at best someone will take the animal away quickly. At worst, you will witness the transformation from bunny to killing machine. (Unfortunately, the bunny thinks you are a threat, Carter. I would run fast while you still have a nose.)

John’s Bio:

John W, Howell began his writing as a full-time occupation after an extensive business career. His specialty is thriller fiction novels, but John also writes poetry and short stories. His first book, My GRL, introduces the exciting adventures of the book’s central character, John J. Cannon. The second Cannon novel, His Revenge, continues the adventure, while the final book in the trilogy, Our Justice, launched in September 2016. Circumstances of Childhood in October 1st 2017. The latest, The Contract was launched the week of June 4th, 2018. All books are available on Amazon in paperback and Kindle editions. John lives in Port Aransas, Texas with his wife and their spoiled rescue pets.

Social Media

Blog Fiction Favorites, http://johnwhowell.com/

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Amazon Author’s page –https://www.amazon.com/author/johnwhowell

 

 

 

 

 

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Raven’s Wrath Part 3 #horror #thriller #Halloween

(Glimpse the past here)

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With the caravan resting to refill its tankers at the bubbling gas lake, everyone takes the chance to stretch their legs. The sun is in the middle of the sky, but they all know it can drop below the horizon at any moment. Those with weapons sit on top of the metal vehicles, which are covered in dents from previous attacks. Farmers tend to the livestock that are kept in the central tanker, the animals refusing to step outside. A small party is sent out to find fruits and vegetables, but the hungry people doubt they will have any luck. Even the children remember the disaster at the last stop when the gathering party tried to pick wild carrots that dragged them into the dirt. No matter how cautious they are, the surviving humans scattered about the planet find that they are still at the whim of the battling monsters who turned their world into an endless landscape of death. Only the children too young to understand what is going on manage to laugh and play while the adults force themselves to smile.

Staring out over the desolate landscape, Kara Stein does her best to hold her pistol like she knows what she is doing. Having turned ten a week ago, the adults decided she is now old enough to help guard the caravan. Her dirt-covered face is covered by the cowl of her tattered cloak, which still smells of her dead mother. Kara puts down her gun to move her satchel to her other shoulder, which is still tender from a bad sunburn. After spending her entire life on the run, the little girl can only be comfortable when she is prepared to run. Even when she can smell her own odor, she has to be forced to bathe due to a fear of being attacked in the water. Out of fear and defiance, she has shaved her head to avoid having to use the sweet-smelling shampoo that the caravan uses. Taking a stick of gum out of her shorts’ pocket, she looks around to make sure nobody sees her put it in her mouth. She freezes at the sight of her friends playing nearby with a ball that is composed mostly of leather patches. A pang of jealousy rises in her gut and she considers leaving her post until she spots the caravan leader climbing out of the tank that acts as their lead vehicle.

Cheers rise from the front as the gathering team emerges from a clump of forest where all of the trees are strung with Christmas lights. Kara is about to join the rushing mob when one of the other guards clears his throat. With a pout, the girl chews her bland gum and watches as the other children are given candy canes plucked from the wilderness. She sighs at the rare find and wonders why any junk food found growing naturally is always safe. Apples and potatoes can turn out to be explosive while a bush made of chicken nuggets has yet to turn on any people she has seen over the last ten years. Taking out a notebook, Kara jots down the questions that come to her mind. Her actions catch the adults by surprise since they were under the impression that none of the children knew how to read or write. She smiles with pride and holds back the tears as she remembers the lessons her father drilled into her. Having lost both of her parents only three years ago, the pain and sense of loneliness is still fresh in her mind. Putting all of her belongings away and adjusting her satchel, the girl focuses on watching for signs of danger or anything that is bizarre even for their chaotic world.

It is a distant roar of an engine that causes Kara to tense and grip the gun to the point where it almost goes off. Turning to the other guards, she sees that they heard the noise as well and are calling for everyone to get into the armored vehicles. With so many having gone to greet the gatherers, only a few of them make it back before the sun abruptly drops below the horizon and the area is plunged into darkness. Appearing on clusters, the stars appear to show that there are lumbering forms emerging from the nearby hills. People scream as they run for the caravan, the children gradually falling behind as the adults try to get themselves to safety. Kara considers heading out to save her friends, but the well-honed desire to survive causes her to stay at her post. Hearing a muttered curse to her right, she turns in time to see one of the men jump off the armored vehicle and pull a large sled out of a side compartment. The muscular guard charges towards the last place that he saw the kids before the stars shifted to only shine on the heavily defended caravan. Nobody reacts when his scream erupts from the shadows and the mangled sled crashes into the side of one of the vans. Those on the impact side of the armored vehicle run when they see sparks, which ignite the recently filled gas tanks. With deafening blast, the transport is sent flying into the nearby lake and causes the foul-smelling liquid to become a blazing wall of flames.

No longer caring about saving anyone else, Kara tosses her gun into her satchel and jumps to the ground. She can hear growls coming from every direction and sees that others are sealing themselves in the vehicles. Knowing that she will not be let inside, the girl sprints for the rear vehicle and scrambles underneath. The ground shakes as something large approaches the caravan, but she ignores the screams as she pulls a small packet out of the undercarriage. Kara puts the nose plugs in before unfolding a portable shovel and digs into the soft earth. She does not bother going very deep and crawls into the hole once the attacking creature rams into the vehicle above her head. Putting her cloak over her body and holding a straw in her mouth, the girl quickly buries herself and remains still. The voice of her parents teaching her how to survive repeats in her mind, the mental trick helping to keep her calm.

With dirt in her ears, she can barely hear the sounds of the massacre and anxiously prays that she survives. Even when the armored van is sent rolling away and her hiding place is exposed, Kara refuses to move and only sucks in a slow breath when she is on the verge of passing out. She can feel bugs crawl into her clothes, but she ignores the sliminess and occasional bites. A foot stomps an inch from her head and the dirt over one eye is cleared to show her that a claw is arching over her body. Unable to move, she hopes that the filthiness of her skin is enough to make her blend in with the ground. She holds her breath when a wet nose taps at the straw and snorts at the suspicious piece of plastic. The beast is about to grab it with its gnarled teeth when movement to its left causes it to rush after a woman who could no longer stay in her hiding place. Refusing to let her body relax, Kara stays vigilant through the night, which is consumed by the sun after he final scream stops echoing off landscape. As soon as she feels that enough time has passed, the girl crawls out of the dirt and goes about gathering enough supplies to continue her journey alone.

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