Excerpt Elemental Mazes

Excerpt Elemental Mazes Book 4 of the Katy Lily Series

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             Katy sat with Riley; they were sitting on the plane. The first maze wasn’t so bad a few choices made, a bit of power out of control. She feared perhaps their birth mother was right and she was going dark.

Riley could practically hear her thoughts. “Nobody is pure light or dark until they make themselves that. Those who are dark gave up. They were told they were dark or cursed or they had no choice. They didn’t fight. They didn’t try. And that is what made them dark. They gave up. They invited darkness into their soul. There isn’t just light and dark. You can’t have one without the other. And no being is perfect. They just try to be a bit better than they were the day before and they hope for the best. They fight to be light. They fight to be good. And those people where are they? Those who fight? They are light.”

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Sold My Soul Poem

Sold My Soul

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I used to have a voice
I used to have a say
I used to have a life
I sold it for fame
I sold it for money
I sold it for material
I now only speak circles
I now only blend in
I now only am artificial
I used to have a voice
I used to have a say
I used to have a life

NaNoWriMo 2017

As I work to get Elemental Mazes ready for publishing in December, I have chosen my NaNoWriMo Project. The Midnight Phoenix!

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From Earth to Hell and back again… He shall gain his redemption.
‘I always thought I was the hero. I tried to do good. I really did. I even deceived myself that I was. Bu at some point I started to make questionable choices. Making choices that I thought were for the greater good. I can see, now in my death, that I wasn’t the hero. I was the villain. But in life… In life I thought I was invincible. After all nobody is born the Villain. And in death I shall gain my chance at redemption as I fight an evil I could never imagine…’

Death Presents: Flash Fiction

Death Presents

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I remember it like yesterday. Was it yesterday? Time seems to blur lately with my depressed thoughts. That Hollow’s Eve that ended my childhood and set me upon this road. A loss of childhood is a requirement of life I guess, but one that still comes as a surprise to everybody when they realize it is over. Those carefree days, gone forever, often times in a blink of an eye. Many have contribute to that day, many that regret the choices that led to that day.

Even as I lay here and listen to the voices talk about what is to be done with me. I listen as my godfather slams the refrigerator closed, I listen as my godmother cries, and I even hear her blasted pet bird squawk against its cage being thrown about as people went to and fro.

I close my eyes as I remember that day upon the pier when my parents said good bye to me. That day that was only a week before that terrible day, but seems so far away. The ship of iron and steel then was hit by a ship killer. And that is what that storm did. It killed the ship and along with it my parents.

So as I lay here, moments after hearing the voices talk about where they would continue raising my ten-year-old self, and try to think. At that moment I strengthen my mind, I create walls around my heart, and I make a vow.

A vow that I will become the queen I am about to be crowned, and nobody, not even my godparents, will control my ambition to show the world I am my father’s daughter.Those voices would not be able to control my ambition to have the world fear the name, Anne Bathory. Because while I may not be Queen of my nation, I am queen of my land and my name would be feared. That I can guarantee in my last moment of childhood, as Death has presented me with the Queen’s crown.

Motivation: Flash Fiction

Motivation
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I stood in front of the roaring crowd. Memories coming back to me. “How does one get to this point. Standing in front of a crowd on a campaign trail? I am about to tell you.” I started. “Forty years ago I was but a secretary. No one of importance. I had the impression I would die a nameless face of society. It is sort of funny this path I am now on started with a bowl of soup and a glass of milk. I found a child without any armor against the cold, one that would tremble in fear when I tried to help him with a kind hand. As with an injured dove, I held the child and set about to make sure he was healed. I then set about to make sure no child ever was hurt, like this little boy was, ever again.
 
I found a group of like-minded individuals and united them. But to change the system we had to be within it. So we made a list, columns of pros and cons, and in the end I ended up in a public office.
 
As I raised this little boy, so did my ambitions to give him and children like him, everything a child deserves. And thus I moved up the ranks in the face of the public.
 
Then I sat there, on my son’s birthday, one year, not long after he had graduated with his doctorate, we watched the television as it was announced. My end goal to show my son, the little boy I saved, that anything is possible with hard work. I turned to him and he pulled me into a hug. He was now a grown man of twenty-four and I am so proud of the man he has become. He kissed my cheek and smiled and stated, ‘Congrats Madam President.’ I smiled back at this young man that changed my life. ‘Thank you, son.’ I had told him.”
 
I looked out at the crowd and smiled. “Why tell this story now? When I have long since been out of office? Why do I stand before you at the start of this campaign trail? Because today I introduce you to my son as he announces his bid to run for the office you all once honored me with and I am here to tell you that for every benefit I gave our country my son can increase it tenfold. So join me in welcoming the Senator of Iowa and to celebrate his bid into becoming your president!”
 
I stand back to clap as my son came upon the stage. My son kisses my cheek as he moves up to the stand and the crowd cheers. I smile, my little boy has come so far and it all started with a bowl of soup and a glass of milk.
 

Black Hydrangeas: Flash Fiction

Black Hydrangeas
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I stand here surrounded by hydrangeas. They remind me of a time so far away. A time of happiness. Though hydrangeas are common, these weren’t. Their color almost black. Blood black I called them.
 
Why am I standing here surrounded by them and memories? Memories that started with a scribble after just learning the alphabet, a potato, and a game of tug-of-war? Memories of helping a smiling woman and a happy boy plant these blood black hydrangeas?
 
Memories that turned from games of hot potato to making sandwiches for a picnic, and the word boyfriend? Memories of my brothers threatening him to not hurt me? Memories of hand holding, sweet kisses, and so hot summer nights? Memories of a childhood love? Why?
 
Today I am surrounded by those hydrangeas, not for the wedding I always imagined, the wedding that was expected.
 
No, today I am surrounded by them as the man who was my childhood sweetheart marries my little sister. Today I am surrounded by them as we watch one of the most unexpected unions. After all, they had seemed to always hate each other. Or at least they had until I found them in our bed four months ago.
 
Today I stand here surrounded by hydrangeas as I finally give into the pain and watch as those hydrangeas that were once white join their blood black companions. I stand until I fall, and I give into this unexpected union of myself and Death…