Wednesday, November 30, 2016
Final day of NaNoWriMo! WOOHOO…I made it! I beat the 50k word goal AND I haven’t finished my novel. I made too many changes, and they proved to be for the better, making for a heartier read when the book is done, edited and ready for print.
And todays final BlogHer prompt would tie in to that in a way.
However, let me say, that in all my years of adulting, and trying to avoid it, have I never been asked to choose a word for myself for the oncoming year. Resolutions….blah. I kind of like this word for myself for the year. It can encompass so many things in life.
So, for today’s Blogher prompt:
Nov. 30: Have you chosen a word of the year for yourself for 2017? What is it? If not, what words would you consider?
The first word that comes to mind for me is ‘determined’. Alternatively, determination. For 2017 I am determined to reach all those little goals I’ve set for myself, but simply put off in 2016.
Goals and projects.
I have quite a few projects that I have been shoving off to the back burner, such as releasing some of my adult literature/smutty romances. I have quite a few all ready for circulation. I just need cover art.
Getting my house in order. I mean, to the naked eye its fine, but my old office, which is the third bedroom, has been turned into a storage room. I recently purchased one of those big barn looking portable storage things. I am taking all that stored and boxed up stuff and moving it into the storage barn when it is delivered. Oh, I can’t wait until it’s delivered. Then I can once again have a guest bedroom, as my daughter took over the original guest room for herself.
New furniture. I want (don’t need) a new living room set. It’s not needed, as stated, I just want to rejuvenate the home.
Now, something I am need of to help alleviate further back problems is a new mattress and box spring. I already have what I want picked out. No more springs for me. A nice firm memory foam and gel type bed. Very pricey, but I think, after all the rave reviews my sister has given me about her own bed, that it will be worth it.
I am determined to meet my goals. Those goals demand discipline in several areas, such as time management and sticking to a good budget for savings and purchases.
After my back surgery, I am also determined to get back into the gym. Keep my back strong, tone up my legs, and strengthen my core.
To sum my word up for 2017…it would definitely be ‘determined’.
And there we have the end of NaBloPoMo 2016.
Hope you have all enjoyed it!
Tuesday, November 29, 2016
Today is a slow moving day for me. Noon snuck on me before I even knew it. And I haven’t gotten a thing accomplished. Oh, well, other than the fact that I did a load of laundry yesterday and completely forgot about it – so now its being re-washed.
Nothing on the NaNo front as of yet, but my word counts keep flowing daily, some better than others. I am technically finished, having reached 50k last week, but the story isn’t finished, or the 30 days – and that’s my goal.
Now, on to todays BlogHer prompt:
Nov. 29: What was your most embarrassing or scary trip to the doctor?
It was about 6 years ago now, and my chest hurt really bad. It felt like I had taken a bite of a big dry sandwich and it was stuck in my esophagus. Burping didn’t help, drinking something didn’t help. It didn’t burn like heartburn.
So I got scared.
I went to the ER and come to find out, in all my fear, it was a form of heartburn – however – they ordered a Heart Cath to be done.
That was scary. Laying on the table as they insert a tube through your groin up through your body and to your heart with the possibility of having to put stents in.
Everything checked out fine though. My ticker is in good shape, despite me having COPD. So it was a relief in the end.
And that’s my story for this prompt. It was more on the scary side than embarrassing.
Monday, November 28, 2016
It’s been a busy morning, and I have worked on my NaNo writing, but I’m not finished yet. However, my brains needed a break from the novel. So I took myself to Hobby Lobby and picked up a few things. Mainly some upholstery fabric for my office chair (I hate the leather feel, so I got a lovely quilted fabric) and some things needed for the project.
I have other things going on inside of this brain of mine. More story ideas. Mostly short stories. I’m jot the ideas down and that will give me something to toy with when the mood strikes.
So on to today’s BlogHer prompt:
Nov. 28: What was your most precious possession when you were a kid?
When I was little, I had this large stuffed animal. It was a lamb. I used it as a pillow, and kept it very safe in my room. Of course, her name was Lamb chop. I know, how original. Come on, I was like, four years old. However, I kept that same silly lamb all the way into my early teens until after many fix- ups and stitches the poor lamb needed that it just disintegrated. I have never seen another lamb quite like it. Not for the massive size it was. I don’t even know where my mom had gotten, because when you are four and presented with a lamb that’s as big as you are, you just don’t question it. You love and cuddle it.
Now, as an adult, I have…oddities. So many. I can’t pick a favorite. I rotate them out, sometimes buying more when something truly captivating catches my weird eye. Living Dead Dolls, homemade voodoo dolls from New Orleans, voodoo dolls I’ve made myself. Then there are my Walking Dead figures and my Pacific Rim Jaeger’s – Gypsy Danger being my favorite, of course. My skeletal animals. Candles galore. We won’t start on my coffee mug collection.
There is one constant in all my oddities that never leaves the edge of my desk however. That would be Edgar Allen Poe. He’s a rather tall figure, and off course, he’s a bobble head. At his feet is his ever-present raven. I give him a poke now and then and he kindly gives me a nod of approval.
The eccentricities go on and on…I have nearly a whole room full of boxes of stuff.
So there we have it!
Sunday, November 27, 2016
Working on my NaNo word count this morning, but wanted to get this post up because I am super excited about it. I wrote this piece yesterday before reposting part one of it. I wrote it in about 10 minutes. Yes, when the inspiration strikes, you don’t question it – you just do it. You get those words out and on to the page and watch it all form into something you feel is wonderful.
I hope those of you who have taken a liking to part one of this story enjoy this second part.
Please read and feel free to comment! I included the link to the original post just for those who haven’t read part one.
https://niume.com/pages/post/?postID=141636 (original One of Three post)
Two of Three
It had been a few years since he killed the puppy. It was fascinating to him. Over the weeks since he had buried it, he had gone back, dug it up with his mother’s good spoon, and examined the remains. Repeatedly. Bugs started eating the animal. Then the fur and skin started falling off. It was really stinky and gross to handle.
Again, that had been a few years ago. He had killed more animals since. Lately, it just wasn’t as fun or as fascinating as it had been.
In that time, he had developed night terrors. He started wetting the bed. His ‘friends’ made fun of him. Really, they weren’t his friends. He hated them all, but their mums made them all play together. He always snuck off to do his own thing anyway.
This week was vacation week. The holidays. Autumn had things crisp and cool. It also had the little lizards and frogs starting to seek shelter from the cold.
Sometimes though, during the day, you could catch them sunning themselves on the smooth rocks to keep their body heat up. It was the prime time to catch them up. He killed some of them, of course. Digging around in their insides. He started saving some, too, however. They had a neat feel to them. Slick and smooth. They looked slimy, but they really weren’t.
This evening there was to be a bonfire and his spirits were flying high. He loved playing with fire. He’d set a few small ones. Nothing major, except for a small old tree house in the woods. It was exciting, but it seemed to be lacking something.
So now all his family were milling around this lovely big bonfire. They were all drinking their grown up drinks, hardly paying attention to anything but one another and their stupid conversations.
His little sister was roasting marshmallows in the fire on a long stick mum had found for her.
He watched intently. He watched curiously.
What would happen if he held her hand in the fire? Would the skin melt off like dripping wax? Or would it get all crunchy like the marshmallows when you leave them in too long and they catch fire a little bit?
He really wanted to know.
But…this was his little sister. He’d get the spanking of a lifetime if he did something bad.
A smiled settled on his cherubic face. Pulling from his flannel jacket pocket, he produced a small jar. It had a few lizards and frogs in it.
He wanted to try different things.
He had to be careful though. He couldn’t let anyone see.
Moving to the other side of the bonfire, where no one was sitting, he pulled a frog from the jar and tossed it in the edge of the fire. It immediately caught fire and shriveled all up, turning black. It then just looked like a weird rock.
He pulled a lizard out next. He tried to put it on a smooth stone at the fires edge, but the fire was too hot. It was weird. The tail and legs of the little lizard caught fire first, and it squiggled and squirmed around before the rest of it was consumed in the flames.
He smiled, the light of the fire glimmering in his eyes.
He inched a little closer to the fire and used a stick to scoot the little jar of remaining frogs and lizards onto the flat stone at the edge he had aimed for with the lizard.
The little reptiles went into a frenzy, then one by one… they popped! It was beautifully disgusting!
He laughed to himself, thoroughly entertained.
It was a short-lived bit of fun though, when his mum came looking for him. It was time to go in. He didn’t want to. He wanted to play with the fire more. He wanted to put more things in. He didn’t want to go to bed, either. However, maybe he wouldn’t have any accidents tonight with all the lovely images in his head of the reptiles and the fire dancing behind his eyes.
Tomorrow he would go back and retrieve the jar and its contents for his inspection. He would see what the pretty fire would do to other things, too, after stealing the big box of long matches off the picnic table.
Saturday, November 26, 2016
So, not too long ago a had written a bunch of short stories and posted them on the Niume website. This story in particular seemed to be a hit with readers. I thought I would bring it here to the blog and share, let you all see what you think. Tomorrow, we will revisit this young lad…
One of Three
(original post: https://niume.com/pages/post/?postID=141636 )
He dug into the hard ground with a spoon near a tall tree. He made sure this tree was recognizable to him from all the others in the forest behind his home. He had his reasons.The biggest being was in case he wanted to come back and remember. Remember the feeling. What if he never did it again? He had to preserve the memory somehow.
He lifted the small puppy up and lay it in the shallow hole he had dug with the spoon. His mother would kill him if she knew he had taken her good serving spoon. She thought she had lost it weeks ago, however. No blame was ever cast on him.
He looked down at the sad little puppy. A sound suddenly spooked him from behind. He looked around, paranoia setting in. Hurriedly he scooped the dirt over the puppy. He placed a few sticks and leaves over the small mound, shoving the spoon deep into the now soften dirt as sort of a marker.
Standing, he wiped the dirt and blood off his hands the best he could with the towel he had used to hide the puppy he had killed.
As he walked home, he tossed it into a nearby stream.
Walking into his home, his mum met him at the door. He smiled sweetly.
‘All things truly wicked start from an innocence…’
~~authors note: I titled this ‘One of three’ as killing small animals as a child or juvenile, is one of the three little quirks most all serial killers share. The others are bedwetting, pyromania, infatuation with ‘dark things’, abuse- be it physical or sexual, or abusing those weaker than themselves, stealing, etc…There are three key items on a list that Profilers look for when building their profiles on killers.~~
Friday, November 25, 2016
Day after Thanksgiving, I’m tired, I’m hung-over. Feeling every bit sluggish. My office is in a state that is unacceptable to me and its really working on my last OCD nerve – however, they are not my items to be moving and re-organizing and cleaning up, they belong to a guest. I have to pull in those negative feelings about ‘my space’ and how I like it to be kept. However, very soon it won’t be an issue. I have ordered a portable storage barn for the backyard. Everything that is jammed packed into my third bedroom will be going in there, and my semi-permanent houseguest will have their own room and office desk in that room and the use of my drafting table in there, so that my own personal office space will be mine once again. Thank goodness for that, because I am two ticks away from losing my shit.
So, on to todays BlogHer prompt:
Nov. 25: What do you think we could all do better with if we looked at it with a child’s eyes?
Everything. Honestly, everything.
Children of a particular age have no use for racism, discrimination and hate in their little lives. They live life to the fullest with no political/religious/social ends. The world is clear and free to them. All they want is safety, security and to be themselves.
Everything would be richer and fuller. The world would be filled with more kindness toward everyone and everything. We would have the grand scale of beauty in raw form in art and literature. Our minds would be free and not polluted with the little things they are filled with today as adults. The muck that muddles the mind.
It would all be appreciated more by the world at large.
Thursday, November 24, 2016
No NaNo word count yet, too many things going on this morning. Cooking, watching TV…drinking. YES, THERE…I ADMIT IT! I am aiming to get a little tipsy by this evening, logging into one of my RP Games, and doing some RP writing. I have taken most of the month away from my characters and their respective significant others, so now they all deserve to be let out of the box and enjoy a day with their loved ones. I know, I’m weird. My characters in my RP worlds are precious to me.
So, on to todays BlogHer prompt:
Nov. 24: Have you ever rage-quit a job?
Yes, I have rage quit one job. I would do it again, as well.
You see, I used to work as a night auditor for a hotel in the local area. My daughter was only 4 at the time. These people would abuse the fact that I needed money (which subsequently all went into someone to keep my daughter for me).
Here is what my typical schedule would look like.
11pm – 7am
Sometimes, I didn’t even get hours off between shifts. I would work one drastically long shift from 11pm to 3pm. BUT…these people would not give me 40 hours a week, so no overtime, and no benefits. Just me, exhausted. Did I mention I was only making minimum wage as well?
So my boiling point came at the holidays. They knew I was a single mom. All other employees were much old; their kids lived half way across the country and had no grant plans for holiday events.
Not a single person would volunteer to take my shifts so I could be with my daughter, or even just have a decent break and catch my breath.
So, I didn’t exactly rage out. I sent a letter to corporate, and that same morning, I gave a sort of nasty note to management and my fellow employees telling them all to enjoy rushing to cover my shifts because I quit. When management came in, read the note, they panicked, and I smiled and walked out the door, never to go back.
I got on with a new job shortly after that left me working with ideal hours. M-F, 8am-5pm.
So, only one job really got under my skin. And I rectified that. Do I feel bad? Hell no. That place was toxic for me at that time in my life, and my daughter needed me more.
Well, you all have a great holiday weekend! Watch out for the Black Friday Sales or do like me and order all the things online and drink all the alcohol!
Wednesday, November 23, 2016
I have been out of the house all day, hence the late posting and no NaNoWriMo word count. I’ll have to work on that tonight. Today I ran errands everywhere. Even down to the next town, which is about 40-45 minutes away.
So I’m keeping the blogging to a minimum today. Sorry folks. L
Now to BlogHers prompt for today:
Nov. 23: What’s the weirdest/grossest thing your pet has ever done?
Jeffrey Jones. I don’t know what makes him do it, but he loves just SHOVING his nose in the girls butts. I’m talking aggressive shoving. AND THEY LET HIM!! They just stand there and are like ‘okay, dude, whatever floats your boat.’
And Jeffrey is fixed. He has never even sprayed. I don’t think he’s aware that he can!
He’s just weird.
Tuesday, November 22, 2016
No NaNo count yet…my creative juices just DO NOT want to flow today. Plus, being in pain is kind of distracting. So, I’ll work on my NaNoWriMo later.
On to todays BlogHer prompt:
Nov. 22: What TV show are you obsessed with? Share 10 reasons it’s better than the other shows.
Just one? JUST ONE? Nope, not fair. I hate being asked to list just ONE favorite of anything, because I just don’t think that way. So, you’ll get a list of my favorites, and not quite 10 reasons why.
Here we go:
- The Walking Dead :
- HELLO… end of the world as we know it drama. Dead things to poke with a stick! Danger, drama, in-fighting!
- Daryl Dixon anyone? Negan? Come on…hawtness.
- Watching zombies age. Seriously, if you have watched since season one; they have become skinnier and more brittle.
- Carl. Watching him grow from little snot nosed brat to big snot nosed brat who can kick your ass. Nice one.
- Plain old people are more of a threat than the dead things.
- Mysterious lawn mowing. Serious, who is going around cutting everyones lawn?
- Gasoline. People…gasoline has a shelf life. At this point, with how they have aged Judith, that shelf life has expired.
- Rick Grime and Michonne anyone?
- Michonne and her sword anyone?
- Michonnes sword anyone?
- Vikings :
- They’re Vikings!
- Hot Vikings
- Lovely duels of wit – from Vikings
- Shield Maidens! Kick ass!
- Supernatural :
- Do I even need to list all the awesomeness that is this show?
- Daredevil :
- Again, too many reasons. Most importantly though: The Punisher.
That about wraps up what I watch on a regular basis. I like American Horror Story, but will admit to being in and out with it. I don’t watch weekly, I just sort of binge when I feel like it. I don’t know how I feel about this season yet. Didn’t care for last or Circus. Coven was okay. The first season was undoubtedly the best.
So there you have it.
Be Sweet, my lovelies…
Monday, November 21, 2016
No NaNo word count yet today, I am just getting home from yet another doctors visit. This time I got some groovy awesome painkillers. Those two bilateral shots on either side of my spine did not help very much, though I now am sporting two lovely large bruises from them.
I’m having a hard time getting around. It hurts – shooting straight up my spine – when I lift my left leg. I am left-side dominant. -.- It hurts to try to change positions in bed. It hurts to step up and down into my office, since it sits lower than the rest of the house and had a big step down.
I have to rely on others to help me with day-to-day tasks and it bothers me to no end. I admit, it bothers me more that things aren’t done how I do them. I mean, I am grateful for the help though. Sounds kind of weird, doesn’t it?
Anywho…let’s move on to the BlogHer prompt for today:
Nov. 21: What is the one thing you wish people better understood about something in your life?
My eccentricities. I am a very eclectic and eccentric person, especially for being an introvert. I like my neon green shoes laces in my purple shoes with my purple socks. I like my hair being blue and green streaked at the moment. (It was teal last month)
I like that I will only go certain places at certain times. I keep schedules, I keep date books, and I keep PC journal and a hand written journal. I horde post-its, coloring books and a variety of art supplies that I will probably never use.
To try to narrow it down is hard. I am very multifaceted.
Ever see that meme about a woman having 1000 tabs open in their brain all at once? That is me. My mind never stops. I have to take medications to sleep; otherwise, I’d never sleep. My body would be in way worse shape, too.
So, if anything, I would want people to understand that even though I am socially introverted out there in the world, I am a thoughtful, creative, eccentric old southern girl that isn’t as mean as she looks and if you speak to me, you’ll gain a friend. Do not judge on appearances. I DO have that ‘resting b!tch face’ syndrome….Lol.
So now, I’m going to see if one of my 1000 open tabs in my brain can pull out my Book Two word document and get to work on another new chapter.
Be sweet, my lovelies…
Sunday, November 20, 2016
Well, here’s todays little snippet from Book Two: The Path of Redemption.
Fight scene! Hells yeah! Remember, all unedited thus far…
A rumbled chuckle echoed through the cave. “All those fancy warriors and they send you in here? Or is it that you missed me and wanted more?” He slowly stood, turning to face her, the fire illuminating his features. Trapped in human form he was devilishly handsome. Tall, muscular, tousled black hair and a crooked smile. But his scent gave him away. There was no hiding that. And his eyes. The changing red and amber. His aura flickered around him. Very much uncommon for a demon.
Addison’s grip on her sword tightened.
He opened his arms, seeming un-threatening. “Aw, come now… is this any way to greet a friend? What would the Baron think of your manners, eh, lil bird?”
She winced at the moniker.
He put his arms down, shedding the jacket he had on, pulling a large dagger from his belt. “Well, if you aren’t going to grace me with that Southern hospitality and charm, then let’s get down to business.” He then snarled out.
Her silence obviously unnerved him. “I’ll have you squirming and moaning under me before dawn, lil bird. You might have a bunch of Templar wards protecting you, but I don’t need to shift to tear your sweet little ass apart.” He hissed.
Addison had heard quite enough. Her pale blue eyes lightened as she brought her sword up to herself, almost as if she was offering it to him. She gripped the hilt in her left hand and pulled the saya free, letting it fall to the stone and ice floor at her feet.
The demon grinned, crouching slightly, his blade at the ready.
Addison lowered her sword to her side. Gripping it with both hands as the blade pointed downward, coming past her thighs. She was making ready for an upward swing as she took off in a full charge. The demon chuckled, taking off from his position to meet her in this dance.
She swung upwards, her blade catching him across the chest in a vertical slice, penetrating deep into flesh and muscle. Addison didn’t go unscathed either, however, as his dagger sliced through her side. She didn’t relent. She didn’t have that luxury. She spun gracefully. Her sword coming across his shoulder, cleaving through bone as his dagger embedded in her thigh. She grit her teeth, and he growled loudly, his deep voice vibrating through the ice beneath her.
She hopped back, distancing herself a bit, pulling his dagger from her leg and tossing it aside. Now he was weaponless. That didn’t mean he was defenseless. He was strong, even trapped in human form.
He was still talking. Growling. Mocking. But he was bleeding, and that was good. Addison’s eyes watched as his dark blood stained the ground beneath him. But it wasn’t enough. She still wanted more.
She blocked out everything he was saying. Tuning him out, only hearing the rumble of his deep voice and the heart beating in his chest.
She charged again, bringing her sword upward as she had before. This time slashing opposite, leaving an ‘X’ cleaved into his flesh. The ice was slippery under them; they were too close to his fire. She didn’t expect him to grab her up by the neck so quick, tossing her like a rag doll into the cave wall before tossing his weight onto her. From his boot, he pulled a small folded knife. He flicked it open with his thumb before sliding it deep down her face, from forehead to chin, blinding her right eye.
The pain was excruciating, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of hearing her voice it. He loomed over her, bringing his tongue over the wound. His saliva felt like acid as he chuckled, tasting her blood across his tongue.
Saturday, November 19, 2016
Since there is no BlogHer prompts on the weekend, I thought I’d fill you in on my PAIN. No, really. Yes, lots of pain, but persevering.
I’m listening to a meditation mix on my media player – subtle wind chimes with ocean waves and rain with light thunder. So relaxing.
The cats are on a rampage today, using anything as a springboard, including my chair and me.
I haven’t work on NaNo yet today, but you have been tracking my word count meter, you’ll see the past couple of days have been low in the word count. I can’t concentrate when in pain. I am going to work later to work on one a chapter.
For today, however, you will get a snippet of one on the first chapters in Book Two ‘The Path of Redemption’.
And here we go…hope you enjoy…
“I look for versatility in warriors, for compassion in friends, for the spirit in lovers. You managed to fuse this, so I think you warranted more.” One thing he did not like about the Jeep was the damn separation in the seats. Moving an armrest to have her beside him would have been much more fulfilling. “Grandpa and Dad taught me most, my mom taught me cooking, some Tantric prayers, and about her Shinto arts.”
“I like things spiked a lot if I’m going to drink; I usually want the buzz to dull things when I do. So absinthe, Everclear, or those potent types – like moonshine – for me work best.”
She smiled again. “Mmm… Absinthe… I forgot about that one… haven’t had it in ages.” She said in a soft tone, letting memory serve her the taste.
She toyed with her sword between her knees, sliding her hands over the smooth saya. “Cooking…haven’t a clue on how to do it. I don’t even remember the taste of food. I have memories of things I enjoyed, though, like shrimps, jambalaya, and steak. I just don’t remember the tastes anymore. Just memories, like faded feelings.”
Her eyes looked down at her hands. “My mother didn’t like me much. I mean, she loved me and all but left me with the nanny to raise. She resented me, I think because I was a difficult labor and delivery. I ruined her insides. She couldn’t have any more children after me. My Papa on the other hand, tended to spoil me. However, no one treated me as well as Neeta. That was my nanny. When I killed everyone on the plantation, I spared her. She died a nice old age, natural death.” She said, a little sorrow touching her voice.
“I’m tired of this life.” She then said, out of nowhere. “I don’t want to die or anything; no no no… I’m tired of the loneliness. I never lamented my darkness, but there are things I would prefer to have in its stead.” She said, letting out a small sigh.
She then lifted her face, turning her pale blue eyes to the Templar. She looked him over. He was sexy sitting there driving. An extremely handsome man indeed. She offered a small smile.
“Are we there yet?”
“You’ll get used to food again pretty quick. It gets boring again fast.” The story of her mother was sad. It also did give insight into why it was so easy for her to slip into the darkness if she felt unloved. He resolved that she would never feel that way ever again. “I’m sorry, hon. I wish I could take that away from your mind’s pain, but what I can do is let you know you are loved now and will always be.”
Friday, November 18, 2016
I’m sitting in the library with my small group of Wrimos. Only 2 so far. One I am really glad is here because she hasn’t been able to make it to any of the other events, so this is great to see here again. We had met at last year’s events. Wonderful young woman.
I’m still in pain, but I took my stupid pills, and that was sort of a no-no. I didn’t realize just how stupid these pills make me until I got in the truck with all my NaNo supplies and started driving. Ugh.
So now I am just coping with the pain until the event is over and I get home. I brought the pills with me though, just in case.
I’m happy to say that I sent a proposal to the library system on holding Creative Writing Seminars, to include just what NaNoWriMo and things like BlogHer challenges are all about.
They accepted my proposal, so we will be doing on every other month starting in January leading up to NaNoWriMo. I’m so excited, and nervous. This is stepping way out of my comfort zone, but it’s something I am passionate about. And I have so many people supporting me and cheering me on, it’s wonderful.
So, let’s move on to the BlogHer Prompt
Nov. 18: What’s the dumbest thing you and a partner have ever fought about?
Where do I even start? We have fought about colors, choosing meat, how to properly crack an egg, hand-mixing vs. an electric mixer.
We have fought about so man stupid little things its unreal. And I don’t entertain it for long. After trying to even get him to see things from my side, which he believes his side is the only side, I turn around and head to my office, leaving warning that anyone that dares enter with be beheaded with one of my lovely swords. Worse yet, I’ll sic my cats on them.
A short one today, I know, and I’m sorry. I have a near infinite supply of dumb fights, but honestly, I don’t like to give out that much of my person froo froo romantic life side. Nice thing about not being married…you can get out of a relationship that is getting toxic. However, this man in my life is great, he’s just him, and I’m just me. He calls me a ‘mean-ass’ and I tell him to grow some balls from time to time. Typical relationship stuff, yes?
Be sweet, my lovelies…
Thursday, November 17, 2016
Hello! So, let’s start off with a Public Service Announcement. ZOE IS IN PAIN. Also, Zoe has taken some painkillers that kind of make her stupid. Zoe also received TWO bilateral cortisone shots in her back today and they hurt like a…well…I am not going to swear and curse and offend anyone…let us just image all those bad words you would get your mouth washed out with soap for. ~nods~
In addition, no NaNoWriMo word count thus far. I tried writing before I left for the doctor’s appointment, but the pain was just too bad and I was cold. Like, freezing cold.
Excuses, excuses, I know. ~hangs head in shame~
So, on to BlogHer Blog a Day….
Today’s BlogHer prompt:
Nov. 17: What is the hardest lesson you’ve learned from having pets?
Pets are like toddlers, nothing on the lower shelves are safe. My cats are like so many you see on the YouTube videos of cats looking owners directly in the eye and knocking something over, pleased as punch at the shattering noise they’ve managed to make.
I have also learned that, for me, losing a beloved pet is like losing a child. My child was grown, my Fat Cat was a therapy animal. We bonded immediately. She guarded me…viciously. She was known to even chase my own daughter down the hall to keep her away from me. If you did not have her permission, Fat Cat did not think you needed to be near me.
Very overprotective cat, very aware of my moods and movements, able to soothe me like no one else ever. She was utterly perfect…and then she got bit by that dog, developed an internal wound, underwent surgery to try to correct it, had a feeding tube inserted so I could tend to her myself in the comforts of her own home…and she lost her battle in the end. My world instantaneously shattered.
When I got my other cats, Fat Cats toys and clothes were put away, and the new terrors received their own toys…tried the clothes, none of them like them like Fat Cat did.
I had Fat Cat cremated. I wear a silver paw print pendant around my neck, only taking it off when going into the water such as swimming or showering…it contains a bit of Fat Cats ashes. In addition, I have a beautiful urn for Fat Cat that sits right up here in the cubby on the top hutch of my desk so that she is always looking down on me.
So, I am a little morbid. Yeah, I know I am. I have two little shines dedicated to Fat Cat. That was my baby, and she had to move on.
On a happier note, I believe my little ‘forever kitten’ BaxterMarie is channeling Fat Cat in some ways. Wow, does she do a lot of the naughtier things Fat Cat used to do.
Quinney is the sweetheart of the three. She talks back…to the point of it becoming an argument. However, she is so cute and fluffy and knows how to work that angle; she gets away with murder.
Then there is Jeffrey Jones. Big cat. You would think he was the dominant one of the house….ooohh nooo…not Jeff. Most timid thing ever. But also so utterly adorable.
Put the three cats together in playtime or after a little hit of catnip and you would swear it was like the NasCar of the cat world up in this house. Zoom, zoom, zoom. Well, maybe not that so much. It’s really surprising how three cats can sound like a trampling herd of buffalo sometimes.
Well, it’s time for me to nap away some of this pain.
Be sweet, my lovelies!
Wednesday, November 16, 2016
No word count as of yet, had my final pool therapy this morning and assessment. Tomorrow I go see my doctor at the bone and joint clinic, who will then send me for my consult with a surgeon. Fun times, right?
So my NaNo writing will be put off for a little bit today. I did more than enough writing yesterday, however I am one to post a word count every day for the entire thirty days, so, I will be working later on.
Disappointing evening yesterday. I hosted a Write In down at the library and only two people showed up. I was sort of anticipating a decline in group participation with the coming holidays and whatnot. November really isn’t the best of months to hold NaNoWriMo in the USA…lol.
Anyways, lets move on to the BlogHer prompt for today:
Nov. 16: What TV series finale are you still upset about and why?
Hannibal was one of the greatest series out there. It stayed pretty true to the theme of the book Red Dragon, while playing up the complex relationship between Will Graham and Hannibal Lector. It also brought Jack Crawford and his wife more into the spotlight, which, their struggles were completely overlooked in the movies.
Mads Mikkelsen and Hugh Dancy had an incredible fix on their characters, playing off one another so perfectly, it was simply beautiful.
While the series ended on sort of a cross between cliffhanger and closure, I think it should have continued on. Just how much of Bedelia was served as a main course? Was Will partaking in the fine dining? There was a third chair in that scene…
The entire ensemble cast was great. Seeing Scott Thompson in a serious…or somewhat serious role was quite impressive after his Kids in the Hall days of his youth.
There is something more that needs to be highlighter here other than just the cast.
The visuals of this show were amazing. From the suits to the interior designs of rooms and halls. Even the food, as odd as some of it was, was so visually appealing.
Why this show was cancelled is beyond me. It makes me sad.
If you have never seen Hannibal the series, I suggest hunting it down (couchtuner) and watching it. Only 3 seasons, nothing binge watch can’t handle. Lol.
Tuesday, November 15, 2016
No word count on todays NaNoWriMo, mostly due in fact that I am hosting a Write In down at the library and will be doing my writing then. So, it will be later tonight before I get my writing in and get that word count. Only 15 days left to go!! WOOT!
So now on to BlogHer
Nov. 15: What are the best/worst dishes at Thanksgiving dinner?
Well, I don’t like turkey too much, so my go to is ham. I made the best glaze for my ham one year, and it was just sort of a toss things together sort of thing. I never wrote down what exactly I had done. And now I don’t remember it at all.
My biggest fail was trying to cook a turkey. I was trying to have something everyone liked. Well, you cant bake a ham and a turkey at the same time. Who knew? So, yeah, turkey didn’t get cooked all the way. And that was the year I tried stuffing rather than cornbread dressing. DISASTER!
I also bake a lot. I’ve had apple pie disasters, muffins that just were so dry to could use them as charcoal brickets.
Some things I never fail at are the yeast clover rolls and the giblet gravy. They always turned out awesome. And, of course, my cranberry sauce comes from a can…how can you mess that up?
Monday, November 14, 2016
This mornings NaNoWriMo writing went exceptionally well, with 3066 in words today, giving me a total of 33468 words written for the NaNo event so far. And I still plenty of days to be writing more. I wont stop at just the 50k goal, because my work would go unfinished, I imagine.
Now, on to NaBloPoMo
Nov. 14: What was it like to be you in 2016?
What was it like to be me in 2016? Who on Earth would want to put themselves in that place would be a better question to ask.
My highs and lows were drastic. I mean, when in a manic high phase, I could not sit still, I could not feel anything, and I did the most outrageously stupid things. I cut and cut, got stitches and stitches, all to reach a place that was unobtainable.
My lows were just as bad; just add in not wanting to get out of bed unless absolutely necessary.
Readjustments of meds abound.
My brain had 1001 tabs open and I couldn’t close any of them or make them go away. Insomnia ruled (and still does) me.
2016 seemed like a pretty bleak year looking back on it, but there were highlights that made some of the bleakness seem not so bad. My child is happy, my cats are happy.
My writing had its ups and downs. Sales on my first book are way down, but I am hoping that when I release Book Two, sales will pick up again.
I got out of the comfort zone of my locations and broadened it. I have met, and even spoken publicly to a semi-large group of people. Just getting me out of the house a few years ago, fighting agoraphobia, I would say I have come a long way.
November and NaNoWriMo always invigorates me, though December has me crashing down once again, so I am preparing for that, and thinking of things that will stave that off.
Its not so bad, being me, at times. The secret is in how well you can hide your crazy.
Sunday, November 13, 2016
Another day with no offered writing prompt from BlogHer, so another snippet of my newest novel will have to suffice. Little snippets, little teases.
I did managed a decent word count today for my NaNoWriMo – 2065, bringing my total up to 30402. Not bad at all.
Physically, I feel horrible today. My back hurts so much, but I am full of pep and my mood is outstanding. Kind of hard to be peppy though when all your body wants to do is take a major painkiller and curl up into itself. However, I am holding strong! I see my doctor this week and get assigned to my surgeon, then I’ll be meeting with him/her to set the surgery date. I hope that after that, I will be more or less pain free!
So, on with the show. My little excerpt from Book Two: The Path of Redemption-
Addison lifted her sword, bringing its strap across her chest to rest diagonally between her breasts, the Katana resting reassuringly at her back.
“So this other Slayer we’re meeting… Is she going to try taking my head off?” Addison asked. Her thoughts were torn between this other Slayer and Jabrils words of knowing Addison wanted blood. “I do want blood. Can I have some? I promise I won’t kill whoever I take it from? Will you let me hunt?” She asked hesitantly.
Jabril knew it was coming. He looked at her and shook his head. “No, I’m sorry. I cannot allow that. I’m sorry, petite.” He said, dressing as quickly as he could. “As for Letha, no, she won’t be looking to hurt you. She knows the situation.” He said, looking Addison over. “Well, you look ready to move, how about we head upstairs so I can at least enjoy a donut or two before the Lady Paladin shows up,” He said. He knew Addison was starving for blood… he would offer his own, but not right now. He would need his strength as well. He would think of something. Addison looked disappointed. When she caught his gaze, she turned her frown into a smile. “Okay… Coffee time,” She said, just trying to sound upbeat.
Jabril smiled and gave a nod. He took Addison by the hand, leading her from the room to the upper levels of the hotel. “I can’t risk letting you feed, petite. I’m sorry.” He said softly, giving her small hand a gentle squeeze. “As for Letha… she can reverse vampirism in those who want to purify it from themselves. Not everyone is lucky enough to come across her when they are bitten and left to fend for themselves. Your case is a little different, because you have been a vampire, willingly, for so long.” He explained. He looked to Addison, to see the solemn expression on her face… It was now time to change the subject.
That’s all for now, my dears.
Be sweet, my lovelies!
Saturday, November 12, 2016
Well, my word count for NaNoWriMo is climbing daily, even though I only managed 1669 words this morning. I am in pain so bad from my back. This spinal surgery, though I dread it, is not coming along fast enough.
So onto other things. BlogHer doesnt give prompts for blogs on Weekends, so I thought I give you all a sneak peak of Book Two.
I present you a excerpt from Book Two ‘The Path of Redemption’ – mind you this is a raw cut. Enjoy!
Jabril traced her soft lips as she had fallen asleep, feeling the warmth within his heart. It was amazing how this dark, devious little beautiful creature had captivated him. She had snared him, and his heart, in such a short amount of time. Both had been conflicted on what they had wanted, what they had needed, and yet, despite what either had said, here they were. They had gone through so much together in a short amount of time. They had shared so much. It was amazing that it was just out of nowhere. He had believed that he would never allow anyone into his heart again, not after his lost love, his betrayer. And Addison had longed for love, someone to let into her heart, someone to depend on and help keep her from tumbling over that edge of insanity. There was something about Addison, this little beast that she was. Jabril smiled as he watched her sleeping form. She did, in fact, just try to bring the genocide of an entire city. So much destruction, even though she had been trying to correct some of it.
But now Jabril knew the why and what in her motivations. He could help her. He could set her lose to gain vengeance.
There was a demon out there that he had a slow, painful, tormenting death in mind. On further thought, he considered binding it as a slave summon. Sending it back to hell, only to make it ‘summon bound’ to the summoners will.
No. He couldn’t take this away from Addison. It was up to her how this demon was to meet its end, despite Jabril’s wish to handle it – to save her.
She needed saving from herself, not the demon.
There you go! Just a nibble!
Be sweet, my lovelies!
Friday, November 11, 2016
Its an US Holiday today, and I allowed myself some time to lay in bed just stretching out my back and thinking over all I need to get done word-count wise for NaNo.
Once I got up and met with my lover (coffee) we had a discussion over where we are going with the novel for NaNo and then the words just flowed. 2683 in words today, bringing me over the 25k mark to 26668. Nice.
BlogHers blog prompt gave me more trouble, however. I didn’t know what ‘relationship’ to base my answers on. My ex, my daughter, my best friend?
So here is todays BlogHer prompt:
Nov. 11: What are five funny (but real) things your current relationship has taught you? (note: because I cant think at the moment, I have decided to split this up between my male, my daughter, and my best friend. There are funny things about all.)
1. Men: No matter how old they are, no matter how ‘well off’ they are financially, no matter how mature they are – all men leave skid marks in their underwear.
2. Daughters: No matter how old they are, what profession they chose to study, how many relationships they’ve gone through – they will always come back to momma, and the rule that they always come back with more than they left the nest with is true. Only, instead of children (grandchildren) my daughter has brought home a boyfriend and a best friend. I am tripping over bodies in this house.
3. Best Friends: You can live thousands of miles away, and they always know when something wrong. When together, the two of you are bad ass alcohol swilling wenches with foul mouths and ultra-attitudes that are full of confidence – unless there is some sort of small caterpillar like bug on the floor to which you both try to avoid, get near tears, until one of you takes a half of a roll of paper towels to pick that damn thing up and squeal while tossing it in the garbage.
4. Best Friends: No matter how worldly your best friend is (having traveled to Canada, Argentina and France) – she can come visit you in your home town and have no idea what the locals are saying with our thick southern accents, therefor looking at you pleadingly to translate.
5. Men: Again, no matter how well off they are in life, age catches up to them all. Joking about how they’ve ‘lost that great ass and look like a bullfrog wearing britches’ will make that grown ass man nearly wibble to tears over the loss of that one great ass.
I know this wasn’t the proper way to work this prompt, but I really got stuck on it and just sort of winged it to fit me personally. I hope you enjoyed it.
Since BlogHer doesn’t supply prompts for Saturdays and Sundays, I will be substituting short stories in their stead! I have some wonderful story prompts to work with, so hopefully things will be fresh and new in my writing.
Or perhaps I’ll give some excerpts from Book Two, which I’m working on now!
Thursday, November 10, 2016
Today I managed a very weird word count on my NaNoWriMo. I managed 2222 word count. I’m pleased with it though. I will admit, however, that the words and ideas are flowing a little slower than I would like. I can see the scenes and talks in my head, I just can’t seem to translate them onto the word document well. And its only day 10. ~face palms~ Oh, well. I’ll keep plugging away at it.
Now, onto the BlogHer NaBloPoMo prompt for today:
Nov. 10: Did you celebrate or commemorate your divorce or a significant breakup? Would you ever?
I did celebrate my divorce. Looking back on it now, twenty years later, I regret my actions and immaturity.
On the day I received my papers back from the judge and everything was official, I went straight away with changing my last name back to my maiden name. ON EVERYTHING.
Then, I went to work, did a little woohoo with my few friends and when the store closed for the night, we (a very large group of us) all went to the local bar we frequented and had ourselves a party. Tequila shots (my favorite) bad dancing and even worse Karaoke.
I kept up the party girl single mom out whenever I could routing for a few months before it got old. I tried dating. NOPE. So, I started doing other things. I put my time into my relationship with my daughter, worked on my cake decorating skills, focused on art and writing more and spent a lot of time at my parents.
Now-days, things are very different. That man I had divorced has grown up, become responsible, and we depend on each other for various things. I know I can depend on him, our daughter can depend on him.
I DO regret my past actions. But, I was young and stupid. I’ve matured and can look back at the many errors in my ways back then.
So, today, even though the prompt was kind of a downer, for me, things turned out wonderful in the end with years to form a fantastic relationship with the father of my daughter. He’s a good man. He wears his heart on his sleeve a lot, and gets hurt a lot, but I’m always there for me, no matter what.
I think that qualifies as a happy ending of sorts.
Be sweet, my lovelies
Wednesday, November 9, 2016
So, my word count is steadily moving along quite nicely. While I was in pool therapy today I was just overwhelmed with ideas and things to rework my novel for NaNoWriMo. I came home, took a shower, got my coffee and a snack and set right to work. I managed 2990 in words today. Not bad if I do say so myself. That gives me a total word count of 21763 so far! GO ME!
Todays BlogHer.com prompt is:
Nov. 9: What do you want to say to Hillary Clinton today?
Really? Honestly? Nothing much other than you’re a woman and you gave it a good try. Most people know I am not into all the political stuff, and I never discuss politics. Political debates are not my thing, and following politics isn’t my thing.
I know next to nothing about Hilary Clinton other than what shows up in news feeds. I don’t think I understand her workings to offer up anything to say to her, neither good nor bad.
I know it’s wrong of me to take that sort of stance, seeing as this year’s election seems like such a heated one and everyone is saying ‘you should go vote!!!’. Well, stop telling me what to do. I don’t like anything I’ve heard about Trump lately, but that stuff works both ways. There are things Hilary has said and done that don’t jive with me either. And at the same time, both have their merits.
That sums up things on that front.
So, I abstain from this question for the most part.
Zoe doesn’t discuss politics or religion with the general public, even if its is a ‘what if’ scenario.
Be sweet, my lovies!
Tuesday, November 8, 2016
My word count for NaNoWriMo was much better than I managed yesterday. Its only a little after 10am and I’ve managed to squeeze 2567 words out of my head and into a nice chapters. Completely scrapped the old chapter that I had been working on. I was supposed to be ‘revising’ but this is turning into a complete re-write. I’m happy with the way I’ve changed things, however. I felt Book Two wasn’t being true to Addisons character. So, I’ve re-written it, bringing more of what was seen in The Road of Darkness back. Very pleased.
Now, onto the BlogHer prompt for today:
Nov. 8: If you could redo one moment in your life, what would it be and why? How would it change who you are now?
I would have never jumped the gun and gotten married at 18. It ended in divorce. A messy and hateful divorce. We are friends now, a great support to one another, but there are things that can’t be forgotten and words that can’t be unspoken even after so many years. We keep them tucked and buried away. We are both there for our daughter. She has a support system that was lacking when she was little.
The downside of this would be that I wouldn’t have my daughter.
If I never had my daughter, my life wouldn’t be the same at all. I probably would have fallen victim even worse to my mental disorders, been locked away and forgotten. I may not even be alive. I would have never been urge that one little step further to actually publish any of my writings or share my artwork.
I would be a sad little woman, probably bitter and cold to everyone, except cats. As a matter of fact, I would truly be a ‘crazy cat lady’ in some derelict neighborhood somewhere.
Monday, November 7, 2016
Addison was no stranger to the reference of ‘monster.’ She was a vampire, what more could people call her? She lurked in the night, savoring the blood of passing strangers, leaving the carcasses to rot in back alleys. It didn’t matter their age, gender, ethnicity. She did try to take out those who held evil in their hearts, however. Sort of her style of being a superhero, in her warped little brain. She would then take her time in looting their pockets of valuables and cash as well.
She wasn’t a nice little creature of the night. Yet, to look at her, you would swear she was the picture of near innocence, with her long black hair, somewhat tanned skin, and adorable smile. Her behavior was often …odd. Quirky, if you will.
The little Southern Bell of a vampire also prided herself on her knowledge and accomplishment as a voodoo practitioner.
Until a week ago, that is.
She had finally come across a voodoo curse she couldn’t counter.
The situation that evolved was not intended. Addison had simply wanted to go shopping, and the Mambo of the secret little shop in New Orleans took offense to her vampiric nature and knowledge of the arts that should have been forbidden. The Mambo felt that whether in life-or-death, the likes of Addison had no business knowing the ancient arts.
The result of her work? Addison was more monster now than ever. She couldn’t show herself in public, even at night. She no longer passed as human. She could barely speak with how her flesh hung from her jaw and her throat seemed open to the elements.
The beauty she once had was gone.
She looked long and hard at herself in the mirror in the abandoned gas station restroom. She attempted to make an appalled face, though nothing but a mere twitch of old skin came forth.
The Voodoo Priestess she had tangled with had developed a powder of some sort, blowing it into Addison’s face. The powder then reverted Addison to what she would have looked like had she never been turned by that vampire so long ago before New Orleans was even a city. A simple dead girl, one that had been in the ground for a few years. She looked like a dried up husk. A scarecrow of stretched and weathered flesh. Her hair had fallen out here and there; one eye had sunken in and what hair she was left on top of her head had turned gray and white.
Her body had gone from athletic and lithe, to nothing more than gray dried skin and bones. It was hard to move around. Every movement she did make was almost agony, and that set her to vocalize that feeling with small moans and groans. Was she a zombie now? She wasn’t craving any brains.
She desperately needed to either make this Mambo reverse the powders effects, or find a way to correct things herself.
There was one upside to it all. Thus far, Addison had felt no hunger. No need for fresh blood… or brains.
There was also a downside. Insects and rodents started to look tastier and tastier. Addison refused to give in to those cravings. It was a bit of a struggle at times. Given any other time, Addison was terrified of insects.
She hated to admit it, but for any progress to be made to restore herself, she was going to have to ask someone for help. She pulled her cellphone into her leathery, boney fingers and scrolled through her contacts. This was made difficult, as the screen did not want to accept her near fleshless, bone fingers. At least she still held some body heat or electrical impulses from her brain through her body enough to make the screen even work.
As she scrolled through her contacts, she frowned. She could find no one. Well, there was one exception. He was a demon, and Addison did not like him. She had done him a favorite once, and he owed her one in returned.
She dialed his number, trying to speak when he answered. Dirt or something fell from her mouth, and she choked. With a damaged windpipe and useless vocal chords, this just wasn’t going to work.
She hung up and started texting him as fast as she could. She abbreviated what she could, misspelled things and auto-correct would be the death of her. She managed to give him her location, pleading for him to bring her some select spices, powders, herbs, roots and petals. And a bats heart. Yes, that was exactly what she needed. Even better if said bat had rabies.
With that done, she sat down on the closed lid of the filthy toilet. She didn’t know what smelled worse – her, or this old run down rest room. The bugs skittering here and there sure did look enticing.
After about an hour’s wait, a young man had entered the restroom, slowly and cautiously. Addison peeked out to see the devilishly handsome human appearance of the demon.
She opened the door to the stall and stepped out slowly.
“Addi?” The man’s deep, smooth voice questioned.
She backed herself into the shadows more.
His piercing blue eyes sparkled as he lifted an arm, his olive skin glowing into a small ball of flame in his palm, illuminating them both.
Addison shrunk away from the light. The demon, however, stared at her. The light of his flame danced off his black hair and plain black hoodie and jeans, until he let the façade fall away. With a slight gasping noise, the once 6-foot male with olive skin and dreamy blue eyes was suddenly a 7-foot obsidian-colored demon with those same icy eyes. A jagged tail whipped behind him and his once normal looking hands were replaced with long talons. His black hair was still there, though a crown of bone protruded from the hairline. His mouth didn’t set right with his facial features either. It now seemed larger, especially when he opened his mouth, all rows of fangs, much like a shark. Derek was his human name. Valkor now stood before her.
“Addi? Is… is that you? What trouble have you gotten yourself into? Would be more merciful to allow me to kill you…” He said, his voice rough and gravelly.
Addison tried to speak. Tried, but couldn’t, so she started typing on her phone again, showing him the screen, trying to explain the situation.
Valkor laughed heartily at Addison’s folly. He also resumed his human façade. ‘Derek’ was much easier on the eyes, for sure.
As Addison typed here and there and showed him the screen, he started showing her what he had brought to her. All the ingredients she had asked for, neatly packed into Wal-Mart bags.
Addison moved to look down at the materials. Giving a nod, she slowly sat herself down on the floor and set them next to a large bowl she had taken. Derek stood behind her, looking down over her to watch her, and watch over her. She was in a vulnerable state. While there was no love lost between the two, Addison did make for a good ally.
Mixing a pinch of this and handful of that, Addison ground the dry ingredients in the bowl before adding the liquids. She had asked for blossoms and petals in hopes the mixture would smell nicer, though sadly nothing covered the stench of alligator dung. The bat’s heart, which did indeed have rabies, made the concoction a disgusting color.
Derek waved a hand before his face and made a noise of disgust. “Whew, that’s rank. Let me guess… you have to put that on yourself?” He asked.
Addison heaved a sigh of sorts and nodded, dipping both hands into the bowl and stirring it all up while quietly chanting something that was made unintelligible by her damaged face and throat. She then scooped up the muck and spread it all over her face and arms, moving to stand and lurch her way to the restrooms single stall once again. She had to put it all over her body, and even though she currently looked like a cordwood scarecrow, she had her modesty.
She put the foul mixture all over her body and waited. As it dried, she could hear Derek waiting patiently, playing a game on his cell phone. It always amused her. Vampires and demons, werewolves too, having changed with the times and played on silly gadgets to kill their unending time and boredom.
When the layer of her ‘treatment’ had dried, she moved, bending her joints, letting the dried husk to fall away to the floor in chunks. She dusted herself off, knowing what needed to be done next and dreading every second of it. She took the lid off the toilet cistern and scooped the water out with her hands, clearing away the dusty debris from her body.
With what was supposed to be a frown, Addison looked at her arms and hands. “Oh no…” she uttered.
Derek perked to her voice. “Not go as planned? Come out, let me look.” He said, lighting the restroom again with his demonic flames.
Addison redressed and came out of the stall, shoulders slumped. “Thupid thpell didn’t work right. I need to thee the Mambo for her to fixth thith.”
Derek laughed, not just at Addison’s new lisp, but at her appearance. “At least you look a little more… how should I put this… gooey? Squishy?” He chuckled, pressing a finger into the still grayed flesh of her arm, noting that it was no longer a dried scarecrow feel. She had ‘plumped’ a little.
The wounds were still there, however, giving cause for her voice to be off and lispy.
Addison glared daggers at her demon cohort. “Did you bring the needle and thread? I have to fixth theethe woundths.”
Derek then beamed a radiant grin. Addison would not be happy with what he brought, but it was all he could find. “I brought you something to do some stitch work.” He pulled from one of the bags in the corner a skein of blue yarn and a chef’s needle.
Addison looked at him, one eye still a little sunken into her head. “You have to be kidding me. I thaid needle and thread. What am I thuppothed to do with that?”
Still chuckling, Derek replied. “You will mend all those rips and tears in your flesh, and you can wear my hoodie to walk out of here. Besides, you didn’t say you needed a hospital grade stitching kit.”
Addison snatched the yarn and needle from him, moving to the mirror. She stitched up her face, neck, a line on her forehead; various little tears and holes in her flesh. She looked ridiculous when she was finished.
“This is so stupid looking.” She huffed out, smacking Derek in the arm.
There was a little snap and her eyes widened as she watched in horror as her hand and most of her forearm fell to the floor. Addison squawked “AH!”
“HA! Why Addison, you’re just going to pieces over me. Not so tough right now, are you?” Derek barked out in laughter, retrieving her broken limb. He grabbed up the yarn and needle and went to work sewing it back onto Addison’s arm.
She was taken by surprise when she tried to wiggle her fingers, and they responded. “Great. I went from a disgusting dried up scarecrow corpse to a living voodoo doll.” She grumbled out. “And I look absolutely hideous.”
“I won’t argue with you there. You still smell like a fresh crap, too.” Derek said, smiling at her. “At least that lisp is gone. So what is it that went wrong? I thought you were a pro at this stuff.”
Addison crossed her arms and paced for a minute. “No one is ever truly a ‘pro.’ There is always something new to learn.” She paused in thought for a moment before speaking again. “We’re going to go to that Mambo and try to appease her someway.”
Derek gave a curt nod. “I’ll back you up however you may need.” He said, lifting his white hoodie off and tossing it to Addison. “Here, slip that on. And, when this is all done, we’re burning it.” He chuckled.
Addison slid the hoodie on, sinking into it as it was three times too big for her. She looked like a child playing dress up, and everywhere she touch it, her hands and fingers left dark smears. “Gross.” She pouted. “I guess we should get going. Obviously, it’s not far. I couldn’t have made it any further away than this in the condition she had put me in.”
Derek gave a simple nod and went to exit the old gas station restroom. He didn’t notice Addison deftly pick up the rest of the skein of blue yarn and slip it into the pocket of the hoodie. She pulled the hood over her head and joined Derek, walking towards the voodoo shop she had visited.
The shop would be closed at this hour, but this was New Orleans, most people lived above their shops, and had courtyards for gatherings. It was a full moon, so there would no doubt be a gathering for ritual work.
They passed other pedestrians along the way, some looking oddly at Addison, others outright covering their noses at her stench. “Geez, lady, ever heard of a shower?” Someone had rudely said. Addison made a mental note of them so at a later date she could find them and kill them.
They arrived at the shop, knocking on the door. The guard looked out. “What do you want? Haven’t learned your lesson yet?” He scowled.
“Please, let me speak to your Mambo… I have an offering for her…” Addison said in a polite tone.
She turned to Derek and slipped the yarn from the hoodie pocket, quickly binding his wrists with it. “Just humor me…” She said softly to him. He simply shrugged.
The guard returned and opened the shop door and gate before leading them through the back of the shop to the courtyard. A bonfire raged in the middle of a circle, and the Mambo sat in her High Priestess chair as others danced about, paying homage to the voodoo deities.
“What do you want?” The Mambo said, leaning forward in her chair.
Addison removed the hood from her head, showing the attempted transformation. This made the Mambo laugh. “Please… fix me. You are more knowledgeable than me… I concede to your greatness and offer you a gift.” She said, moving to shove Derek towards the Mambo.
“He’s a demon. A true hell-born demon. Don’t worry, I’ve enchanted his bindings, he can do no harm.” Addison added, giving a bow.
Derek turned to face her, struggling in the yarn around his wrists. “Addison… you double-crossing wench!” She had indeed enchanted the yarn. He couldn’t transform into his true self or use his mighty powers.
The Mambo stood, inspecting Derek. “A true demon. An impressive catch for a little abomination such as yourself, eh, Addison?” The Mambo asked as she circled Derek. “Take him away, all of you, just to be safe…” She waved a hand to her five bodyguards.
The Mambo then approached Addison, making a sour face at the little vampire, turned rotted corpse, turned living doll. “Look at you. You look just like one of my dolls. For the demon, however, I suppose I could remove the hex. You have to give your word you will stop practicing voodoo in my district. I don’t want to see you in my territory at all. Deal?”
Addison looked up at her with her dead eyes. She tried to offer a smile through the yarn stitching of her face. Her eyes then moved to watch as the five bodyguards were escorting Derek away. He was cursing her, the bodyguards, the Mambo… but he kept coming back to Addison. Wow… was he mad. Oh, well.
The Mambo moved around Addison, moving to the outside tables gathering things, as well as collecting powders and other items and bringing them to the bonfire. She scooped some of the outside ash into a small jar and filled it with the other items she had collected. She then carefully held the jars bottom into some of the fires flames, watching the contents shrivel into a fine dust.
The Mambo pulled the jar to her and let the contents cool before opening the jar and walking around Addison in a circle, sweeping the fine dust all over her as she chanted. She stopped, looking at Addison. “Now, walk through the bonfire. You come out the other side; you’ll be back to your original state. A disgusting vampire.” She sneered.
Addison offered a nod, trying to remain humble looking. She did as told, walking through the flames of the bonfire. She had her doubts. She expected just to go up in flames. She didn’t, though. She shimmered rather, the dust catching into little sparks around her, her body transforming.
She stepped out of the flame, hole and back to herself. Even the various yarn stitching’s were gone.
From the other side of the bonfire, the Mambo look at her with a sneer. Addison smiled back, but it was deceptively wicked.
Addison raised a hand high and snapped her fingers. “DEREK, NOW!”
At the snap of her slender digits, the enchantment on Derek’s bindings fell away. He wasted no time in transforming into his rightful flesh and devouring the bodyguards in flame. He then stomped his way to Addison.
“You could have told me your plan to begin with.” He snarled at her, all sharp teeth and monstrous visage.
She shrugged, watching as the Mambo’s face was overcome with horror.
“It’s my turn now.” Addison said, moving to circle the bonfire. The Mambo tried to run, but Addison had left enough enchanted yarn where she had stood before to trip up the Mambo. The hefty woman fell in a heap.
Addison approached the plump black woman, moving to kneel at her side. “You know, what you did wasn’t really gracious. I mean, I know I’m not very nice, but I’m supposed to be a monster of sorts. You’re a human, and in my book, that makes you the worst kind of monster there is. You rejected my presence, cast a hex on me… for nothing more than my white skin being in a voodoo shop. Oh, and being a vampire. You do realize that humans kill more humans every year than all us ‘monsters’ combined?” She questioned to the woman.
She leaned into the woman’s neck. The Mambo struggle, praying and pleading. “I don’t want to die… please…”
Addison shook her head. “You won’t die. Not until I want you to.” With that said, she bit into the woman’s neck with her perfect little white fangs, drinking the woman’s blood. Not much, just enough to sate her hunger.
Derek watched all, curious as to what Addison was playing at.
Addison moved on the other woman, sitting on her chest and drawing a voodoo sigil around the woman’s head. She then reached for the discarded jar and set it on the woman’s forehead. She waved and weaved her hands in intricate designs in the air over the Mambos head, a white light shimmering around them before she finally got off the woman and let her skitter away.
“What did you do to me?” The Mambo asked, a hand clutching her wounded neck. “I feel… different. Please, what did you do?”
Addison grinned and tapped the jar, which she was now placing a cap on top. The jar held within it a small crystal that flickered with light from time to time, like a firefly.
“I’ve taken your soul. You won’t die until I want you to die. Do you realize what that means right? It means you have to take care of yourself now. I hope you learn to stop being a racist. If you’re going to be a hater, hate indiscriminately.” Addison chuckled. “Now, eat right, exercise and don’t let anything happen to that body because it won’t heal. I’ll be seeing you…” Addison winked, tucking the jar into the hoodie pocket and giving a waggle of her fingers before moving to Derek.
“Come on, big guy. I’m sorry for the deception earlier, but I wanted to be convincing.” She said to the demon, who was now moving to take his human form.
“It’s alright Addi. At least I am out of your debt. You know, we could make a good partnership.” He said, patting her shoulder as they walked out of the place and back out down the sidewalk.
Addison huffed. “Don’t push your luck.” She said though she did smile. “Thank you, for your help. I should head home.”
Derek gave a vigorous nod. “Yes, please do. Man, do you stink. Like, REALLY stink!”
Addison turned to him and glowered, but then moved to him, taking the man into a deep hug, leaving some of her stink all over him as he protested.
She then turned and scampered away into the night, snickering the whole time.