tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35137660465257608452024-03-13T10:06:01.501-04:00Pen & TentacleAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08386369227077404895noreply@blogger.comBlogger31125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513766046525760845.post-29701131632897104682014-05-15T03:16:00.000-04:002014-05-15T03:16:00.191-04:00New Story Coming Soon!I actually have four stories in the works, one possibly novel length that won't be done any time soon, a longer short story that will probably end up 5K-8K words, and a couple pieces of flash fiction. One of those pieces of flash fiction should be done in the next week or so depending on how much time I have to write. <br />
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I the meantime if you are looking to do some writing of your own I've added some new prompts and titles to play with in <a href="http://www.wattpad.com/story/11571494-splashes-of-ink-writing-prompts" target="_blank">Splashes of Ink: Writing Prompts</a>.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08386369227077404895noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513766046525760845.post-5824733744570603062014-02-28T12:00:00.000-05:002014-02-28T17:57:18.975-05:00Goo<br />
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Another little bit of flash fiction. This one is admittedly a bit silly. I've been working on the novel lately and that's quite dark so I needed to write something very different in tone. I hope you enjoy.<br />
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Cal was covered in green goo. Her short auburn hair was plastered to her head, the tshirt and shorts she wore were drenched in the substance and almost certainly ruined. It had slimed her, whatever it was, the moment she'd walked into the kitchen.<br />
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The smell was disgusting, like rotten onions and vomit. She hoped the smell was the worst of it and that she wouldn't be covered in boils later or start hallucinating like when that baby salamander had bitten her.<br />
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This was supposed to have been a simple job. A supposedly haunted house needed clearing, it sounded like nothing more than some minor elemental playing tricks. Air sprites enjoy pranks like moving furniture and whispering quotes from old horror movies. She'd once come across one who imitated Norman Bates while watching women shower at a hotel.<br />
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Instead of a sprite in need of a lecture on playing nice with humans she was faced with a thing that sprayed green ichor. If it wasn't for that habit, it might be considered cute. At least in the way those bizarre naked cats are. It sat hunched on the kitchen counter staring at her, a creature slightly larger than one of the capuchin monkeys Cal had seen at the zoo in Boston once. It resembled one too, if you shaved it, cut off the tail, and painted it a light olive green with faint stripes.<br />
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"Hi there," she said in the friendly tone she used on small children and strange dogs. "You don't have to be afraid of me. I'm not going to hurt you, but you need to leave the nice people who live here alone."<br />
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The creature didn't respond, it just kept looking at her with its yellow cat-like eyes. <i>What is this thing?</i><br />
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Cal kept talking to it as she walked closer, keeping her right hand behind her back. She didn't want to have to use the enchanted net she held unless she had no other alternative. Another coating of slime did not appeal to her.<br />
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"A bloody kobold?" Lucas said from behind her.<br />
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The creature looked past her at the vampire and hissed. The gentle approach wasn’t going to work now. Cal swung her arm around to throw the net. Not fast enough. The kobold leaped from its perch and raced across the kitchen floor, heading for the door.<br />
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"Catch it!" she yelled to Lucas.<br />
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The vampire dove for the kobold, grabbing it by one leg. It twisted in his grip, spewing more of the foul smelling slime. Lucas’ quick reflexes saved him, and his clothes, from any slime.<br />
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“Hurry up and net it, this mess is slippery.”<br />
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Cal slipped twice in the green mucusy liquid now covering the floor as she made her way over to Lucas. The net closed around the kobold in an instant, the magic sealing it into a tight cocoon. She glared at both the creature and her spotless boyfriend.<br />
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The trapped creature writhed and struggled to get free but the net held. It screamed epithets in goblin at the pair who trapped it. Cal cringed and wished the spell over the net had included silence as well. She only knew the rudiments of the language but enough to know the kobold was calling her family, appearance, and sexual habits into question.<br />
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"We've caught it, now what?"<br />
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"I have no idea, but there is no way it's going in my jeep," Cal said.<br />
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"Your grandfather sent us out on this job and he just got a new pickup..."<br />
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Cal smiled. "I'll call him."Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08386369227077404895noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513766046525760845.post-39445475481872465892014-02-20T19:26:00.000-05:002014-05-15T03:07:18.670-04:00Trope of the Week: #2 Genre SavvyYeah, I know these aren't exactly weekly but I like the name so I'm sticking with it.<br />
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Since my first installment was a trope I really dislike and want to see fade away, this time I'm doing one of my favorites: <a href="http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/GenreSavvy" target="_blank">Genre Savvy</a>. This is quite simply where your characters don't know they are in a story (no breaking the fourth wall) but they know how things work. So they aren't going to split up to go look for clues or walk down dark alleys in vampire territory unarmed.<br />
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I really wanted to illustrate this post with the song <a href="http://www.echoschildren.org/CDlyrics/BINTHERE.HTML" target="_blank">Bin There Dun That by Echo's Children</a> which is basically an anthem to genre savvy but there's no video for it on YouTube and it doesn't appear to be available on iTunes. If you can track down the song I highly recommend it.<br />
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Why do I think this is a great trope to play with? Because it gives you the chance to show that your characters don't exist in a vacuum, they have some knowledge of events whether real or pop culture that resemble what they are going through. It lends more realism to fantastic situations. This is particularly true if your story setting is modern day Earth, don't make your readers wonder whether the characters grew up without ever watching TV or movies. You also get the chance to inject some humor depending on how you handle it. There's the added bonus that most of the things you would expect characters to be aware of are really overused tropes anyway, like falling for the obvious trap or the villain revealing his master plan to the hero in a monologue.<br />
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It's also possible to have a story be genre savvy without the characters acknowledging that they are. Just by the simple fact that they have learned from past experience or they are generally good at spotting really bad ideas. For example the villain who has loyal and well trained guards instead of tolerating laziness and incompetence. Who, for example, makes them all pass a certain level of shooting accuracy so this doesn't happen:<br />
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There are some risks to having characters who are too genre savvy. You could cross the line into parody (unless you are writing a parody in which case ignore this warning). Or you could break your plot by having characters who know the game too well and that it would be too out of character for them to do something they shouldn't. To use my earlier example: If your characters have already said they shouldn't split up to look for clues it's going to be jarring to the reader to have them do exactly that later on. In that case either you are going to have to create circumstances that force them to act the way you need them to or you need to make your characters a little more genre blind.<br />
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I enjoy stories that use some element of genre savvy, your mileage with it may vary. However I think that if you are setting a story anywhere on modern day earth you need to at least give a passing nod to the fact that your characters have probably absorbed some pop culture. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08386369227077404895noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513766046525760845.post-82461064271123716282014-02-01T15:47:00.001-05:002014-02-01T15:49:47.199-05:00Author Note: First DropsThis is an expanded version of the author note I included for <a href="http://tentacle-pen.blogspot.com/2014/01/first-drops.html" target="_blank">First Drops</a> on <a href="http://www.wattpad.com/story/11585264-first-drops" target="_blank">Wattpad</a>.<br />
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First I want to address the one part of this story that I admit is pretty fucked up: the fact that Cal admits she pretty much expected Lucas to attack her at some point and yet she's still with him anyway. Is that okay? No, it really isn't. In real life I would tell someone who felt like that about their partner to run away as fast as they can. That this is part of what drew Cal to Lucas doesn't mitigate that fact very much. However this is fantasy fiction with flawed characters and they have a relationship that will never be normal simply because of who they are. Sometimes it's sweet and romantic and sometimes it crosses that line into a darker place. Considering that I'm writing these stories it's more likely to be dark than romantic.<br />
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<a href="http://tentacle-pen.blogspot.com/2014/01/first-drops.html" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="First Drops cover" border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nRwA1_wETc0/UtnMcmZjeRI/AAAAAAAACRE/_C1B57RkBT4/s1600/first-dropa-sm.png" height="320" title="First Drops cover" width="204" /></a>Of course, the whole story is a not-so-subtle metaphor for sex. Isn't that what vampiric blood lust is all about? More than that, I meant it to be about negotiating limits in a relationship. Even as messed up as their relationship is at this point it's still very much consensual and they talk about it. This is something I think is really important. So I've tried to draw on some of my own experience negotiating new activities with partners and discussions with other people about consent. <br />
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Real life often bears little resemblance to fiction, in reality if you didn't immediately run away from someone who wanted to drink your blood you wouldn't just agree to let them bite into your carotid artery. I think most people would want to discuss it a bit and probably want to have at least a little bit of control over what happens. I enjoy writing these short stories where I try to take a very normal situation, like having sex for the first time with a new partner, and translating that to a fantastic scenario. How would someone who has accepted that all this stuff exists, who has lived in this world her whole life because she is a mage, actually react? It's a nice shift from the longer ones I have in the works that get even more fantastical.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08386369227077404895noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513766046525760845.post-35465810554579043202014-01-20T15:09:00.000-05:002014-02-01T15:51:11.127-05:00First Drops<div multilinks-noscroll="true" style="text-align: right;">
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Finally finished this short story after working on it for far longer than I should have for it's lengths. It's one that pushed me a bit outside my comfort zone because while no sex actually takes place it was written to evoke that type of scene. Vampiric blood drinking has never been a very subtle metaphor for sex and I like taking things literally so this is what resulted.<br />
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Content Warning: This story is more PG13 than some of my previous stories, reader discretion is advised.<br />
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Lucas held Cal close, her long bare back pressed against him. Relaxed and boneless after the night's activities. He laid a soft kiss on her neck, at the place the carotid artery was closest to the surface. Nothing more than a kiss, it had become a small ritual of his over the last month. One he hoped she hadn't noticed.<br />
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"You do that every time, why?"<br />
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"It's a reminder to myself, that as much as I may want to I won't feed from you without your consent."<br />
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Cal rolled over then, staring into his eyes. "You mean that, don't you? You've said it before but I never really believed you."<br />
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"If you didn't believe me why are you here with me?"<br />
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"I enjoy being with you, and gods help me, you are good in bed," she replied. "You saw that first night how that edge of fear excites me. I guess I always wonder if tonight is the night you'll try to cross that line.”<br />
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"Do you want me to?" He laced his fingers through her hair, pulling her head back to expose her throat. "I could do it right now. You couldn't stop me if I bit into your lovely neck right now, but I won't without your permission."<br />
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He swooped in, laying kiss after hungry kiss on her neck while caressing one small breast with his free hand. It wasn't fair of him, he knew, but now that the subject was breached he was going to do his best to convince her. Cal pushed him back, firmly but there was no anger in the movement. Her eyes were as hungry as his.<br />
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"I want to know what it's like first. Tell me."<br />
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That was so close to a yes. Was he finally going to get what he'd craved since their first night together?<br />
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"I can bite you anywhere but the blood flow is best from a major vein or artery." He brush another kiss over her pulse, he could feel it pounding beneath the skin. This was taking him to the limits of his self control. "When I'm hungry my fangs extend, don't ask me how I've never quite figured that out, but I have some control over it. You've seen them before."<br />
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Cal nodded. Lucas wished she would say something, denial or encouragement.<br />
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"My fangs have a venom, not toxic but it contains an anticoagulant and something else that dulls the pain and, well, it causes a high not unlike an opiate. When finished my saliva can heal the wound. With someone who wants it, who isn't clouded by mind tricks, it can be... intense."<br />
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He waited a long moment, watching the way Cal's face changed as she came to a decision.<br />
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"Wait here," she said. As Lucas watched her walk out of the room, he wasn't sure what to think but she hadn't refused or asked him to leave.<br />
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He didn't feel things the way humans did, he could remember how powerful emotions were when he was mortal and he felt little so strongly now. The hunger, of course, also lust, danger, all those things most closely tied to being a predator. Around Cal he found himself wanting more, to feel again. Would her blood make him feel something? Or banish that desire again? He didn't know which would be better.<br />
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Cal returned to her bedroom bearing a small scalpel. One of the ones he knew she kept for her spell work though he had yet to watch her perform a spell, not wise to spill blood in front of a vampire. The nature of her magic intrigued him, he knew she was skilled for her age. It took decades to master magic, yet she was still a few years shy of thirty. After their first meeting she had put up an alarm ward around the house, crossing it was like walking through a sheet of freezing rain. It was harmless and anyone without magic of their own would feel nothing at all, but it was disconcerting and a reminder that she was more than she appeared. Blood Mage.<br />
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He cocked he head slightly. "What is that for?"<br />
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"For me. It's my answer, yes and no."<br />
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"Yes and no?"<br />
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"I want to give you my blood, I trust you not to harm me. If that's what you wanted you've had plenty of chances." She paused, letting the meaning sink in. "But I won't let you bite me, I've had more than my share of narcotics that I'm not going to subject myself to anything similar if I don't have to."<br />
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"So how do you want to do this?" Lucas asked, eyeing the blade in her hand. To his surprise she handed it to him.<br />
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"It's the smallest size I have, it shouldn't make a hole much larger that a fang would. You do it."<br />
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"Are you sure?"<br />
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"Yes."<br />
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"It's going to hurt, there will be nothing to block the pain."<br />
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"I know, I do this all the time."<br />
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He'd known Cal's magic required shedding blood just he'd never thought through what that really meant. Rough play in bed was one thing, she'd shown herself to be enthusiastic about that, but the realization of just how intimate she was with pain was a shock. What they were about to so was a big step but not for the reason he’d assumed, it was the trust not the act itself.<br />
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Lucas drew Cal closer to him, back onto the bed. Her short auburn hair left her neck completely exposed. He wanted that neck but that was asking too much. Instead he reached for her hand. "If that's what you want. Just don't move."<br />
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The scalpel was the sterile disposable kind with a green plastic handle. Cal had removed it from the sealed pouch it came in but there was still a plastic cap over the blade. Lucas flicked it off, the clatter as it fell to the floor was loud in his ears but not as loud as Cal’s heartbeat. His fingers brushed over her wrist, finding just the right place. He didn't have to search hard, it was already marked with a small scar. There were many scars on her arms, an intricate lacework of spell glyphs but this wasn't one of those; she'd cut here before for spell casting. A matching scar graced her other wrist as well as one on each palm and another just below the hollow of her throat. In the short time they’d been together he’d found himself absently running his thumb over the latter as they cuddled.<br />
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Lucas pressed the scalpel to skin. Cal didn't even flinch as the blade bit into her flesh, though he heard her breath catch just a little. As the scalpel sunk deeper, a bright bead of blood welled up. Lucas felt a slight resistance as the scalpel pierced the artery, just a small nick. Blood began to flow in earnest as soon as the knife was removed.<br />
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Hot blood filled his mouth. He pressed Cal's wrist tighter to his mouth, pinning her to the bed. Warmth spread throughout his body, more than the simple transfer of heat. His vampire physiology was transforming the power inherent in all blood into whatever magic kept him alive centuries past when he should have been laid in his grave.<br />
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Even after so many year that rush of power was still overwhelming. The empty aching hunger deep inside quieted, no longer so insistent it be fed. He savored the taste, not coppery the way humans tasted it, but richer and more complex. Sweet, salty, and something spicier like cinnamon and cardamom, but under it all the taste of life. Nothing he'd ever tasted, before or after becoming what he was could compare. The animal blood he sometimes drank out of necessity was a bland substitute for this and no food compared.<br />
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She tastes different, he thought, I wonder if she knows she isn't entirely human?<br />
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Fingers twined their way into his hair, gripping close to his scalp. The hand didn’t try to pull him away. Cal pressed her body closer against him. Sated he ran his tongue over and into the wound, closing it with his saliva. There was still a scar, it couldn't heal damage that was already healed, but no trace of the cut he'd made remained.<br />
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He wasn't sure what to expect to see when he looked back to Cal's face. Being pulled into a kiss was a complete surprise. A long deep kiss, the taste of her blood on it.<br />
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"You enjoyed that... why didn't you tell me?" Lucas said when they finally broke apart.<br />
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"Would you have believed me?"<br />
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He wasn’t sure what he was feeling, but it was something. Love? No, he didn’t think so. Maybe something that could become it with time though. He could be content with that.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08386369227077404895noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513766046525760845.post-77466748042263860282014-01-15T19:41:00.001-05:002014-01-15T19:41:12.779-05:00Couple Writing UpdatesI've been struggling to finish a short story for several weeks now. It's one that is rather out of my comfort zone so it's been slow going. In between working on that however I've been putting together a few books on Wattpad about writing.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oKq2FUktr9Y/UtcoAP23njI/AAAAAAAACQk/OUtk8XWcImw/s1600/splashes-sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="border: 1px solid black; clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oKq2FUktr9Y/UtcoAP23njI/AAAAAAAACQk/OUtk8XWcImw/s1600/splashes-sm.jpg" height="200" width="127" /></a>First is <a href="http://www.wattpad.com/story/10296125-ink-blots-thoughts-on-writing-from-the-tentacle" target="_blank">Ink Blots: Thoughts on Writing from the Tentacle Pen</a>.This is just me talking about writing, my approach, opinions, pet peeves, etc. <br />
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Also I have <a href="http://www.wattpad.com/story/11571494-splashes-of-ink-writing-prompts" target="_blank">Splashes of Ink: Writing Prompts</a>. I have a whole notebook full of random story ideas and coming up with more is a great way to help me deal with writers block. I can't use them all so here's where I share them for anyone to use. I also plan to share stories people write using them.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08386369227077404895noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513766046525760845.post-9054395197968077882013-11-22T18:00:00.000-05:002014-01-17T19:34:51.732-05:00Spring Forward<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<i>I came across a writing prompt that sparked this little idea, it was to write a story about someone who didn't change their clocks for Daylight Savings Time. I immediately thought about giving Cal a pocket watch, from there is turned into this super short story. I like writing these little glimpses into Cal and Lucas' "normal" life as a couple. </i><br />
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“Cal, did you forget to reset your watch?” Lucas peered at the antique pocket watch on Cal’s desk. It was small, a lady’s watch of the kind he remembered being worn around a hundred years ago. Silver with delicate filigree, the open face showed the time. It was an hour off.<br />
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“No, I never change it for Daylight Savings Time.”<br />
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“Why not? I think the whole notion is pointless but wouldn’t it be more useful?”<br />
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“My astronomical charts don’t use it, so I keep this watch to help me time spells that are sensitive to solar or lunar position.”<br />
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“It’s beautiful, you should wear it sometime.” Lucas picked it up, looking more closely at the engraving. On the back, in script so ornate it almost blended into the rest of the design were the initials “A. B.”<br />
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“Thank you. It was my grandmother’s, Grampa gave it to be for my eighteenth birthday.”<br />
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“Were you close?”<br />
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“No, I never met her. She wasn’t a mage.” Cal’s grandfather Erasmus was over 400 years old, using magic lengthened a mages life and took so many from it.<br />
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“Oh. I’m sorry.” Lucas wrapped his arms around her.<br />
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“It used to be one of my greatest fears that I’d fall in love with someone and have to watch them grow old and die.”<br />
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“You don’t have to now. We’ll probably get sick of each other centuries before either of us dies.”<br />
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Cal laughed. “I suppose that’s one reason to be glad you’re a blood sucker.”<br />
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“I love you too.”Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08386369227077404895noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513766046525760845.post-74431441320667288492013-11-18T14:59:00.001-05:002014-01-17T21:25:26.834-05:00Trope of the Week - #1 Damsel in Distress<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HLCAdPvyXXc/Uoq6N83B71I/AAAAAAAACN8/5wUy46vyfcg/s1600/Dicksee-Chivalry-1885.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HLCAdPvyXXc/Uoq6N83B71I/AAAAAAAACN8/5wUy46vyfcg/s320/Dicksee-Chivalry-1885.jpg" height="320" width="238" /></a></div>I love to play with tropes in my writing and the single best way for me to lose a couple hours is to visit the <a href="http://tvtropes.org/" target="_blank">TVTropes</a> website. Since I do enjoy tropes, I thought it would be fun to start a Trope of the Week feature. The goal is of course to do these weekly as my schedule permits.<br />
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The structure of these will be simple, an introduction and analysis of the trope and how they can be used both well and badly. So lets kick it off with one of the most famous tropes: the Damsel in Distress. This is one where I have to put on my feminist hat because of all the tropes out there this is one of the easiest tropes for the writer to inadvertently fall into perpetuating sexism. However I personally love stories that involve a rescue (or an attempted rescue) so how do we strike a balance? First lets talk about what a Damsel in Distress is. <a name='more'></a><br />
The classic <a href="http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/DamselInDistress?from=Main.DistressedDamsel" multilinks-noscroll="true" target="_blank">Damsel in Distress</a> in a young, beautiful woman whose only purpose in the story is as a living <a href="http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/MacGuffin" multilinks-noscroll="true" target="_blank">MacGuffin</a> to drive the story. The trope in this form is deeply problematic because it A) treats a person as nothing more than a living prop and B) tends to portray deeply sexist stereotypes about women as passive victims. Plenty has been written about the sexism behind classic damsels in distress, the Tropes vs Women in Video Games series has an excellent 3 part analysis of the subject and much of what is discussed applies just as well to written fiction as it does to video games. You can watch the first part below, I highly recommend watching all three especially the last part which discusses how games can break out of negative portrayals of damsels:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><object class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://img.youtube.com/vi/X6p5AZp7r_Q/0.jpg" height="266" width="320"><param name="movie" value="http://youtube.googleapis.com/v/X6p5AZp7r_Q&source=uds" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /><embed width="320" height="266" src="http://youtube.googleapis.com/v/X6p5AZp7r_Q&source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object></div>I would like to discuss Damsels in Distress more broadly than just as a helpless woman in peril as Anita Sarkeesian does in her videos. In this broader trope the damsel can be any character who is in a situation they appear unable to get out of themselves. The classic fairy tale <a href="http://www.online-literature.com/hans_christian_andersen/972/" multilinks-noscroll="true" target="_blank">the Snow Queen</a> has a young girl rescuing her brother in a story that I feel is certainly an example of a male damsel in distress (the new Disney movie Frozen is based on this story but apparently they didn't like the idea of a girl saving her brother so they changed him into a sister instead which really disappoints me). In this sense there's nothing inherently wrong with having a character who needs to be rescued, it's a classic trope for a reason. Sometimes characters end up in situations they need help to get out of and most readers like happy endings. The problem arises when the damsel is a cardboard cutout character who could be replaced with the Holy Grail with no significant change in the story and which promotes sexist stereotypes of women as helpless and passive victims who need the big strong male hero to rescue them (which is itself an example of a sexist stereotype of men). So how can you do a storyline that involves a character in a situation that may require a rescue attempt without falling into the trap of the negative sexist portrayal of a damsel in distress? Here are several things to consider when you write a story involving a rescue:
<ol><li>The character to be rescued is far more interesting as a fully fleshed out character with their own personalities, motivations, and flaws, and NOT a flat stereotype or possession of the hero.</li>
<li>Explore the relationship between the characters, don't just assume that because someone has been kidnapped that the hero must save them. Tell me why. </li>
<li>Heroes, villains, and damsels are roles in the story and NOT limited by gender (or age, race, etc). How about a young woman rescuing her father? Or a veteran cop (of any gender) who rescues a kidnapped CEO (again, could be any gender).</li>
<li>How about a character who rescues themselves or who is assisted in their escape by the hero but are fully active participants in it.</li>
<li>The damsel is NOT a reward (actually just in general, women are not prizes to be won by the hero). Of course if two characters have a strong pre-existing relationship you expect an emotional reunion and I have no issue with that at all, but when there is hardly any prior interaction between the two characters, or worse none at all, having the rescue lead to a romantic relationship reduces the damsel to simply an object to be won and has some pretty creepy implications as to the motives of the hero.</li>
<li>The damsel has a perspective and story of their own, tell it. Don't focus solely on the hero's journey.</li>
</ol>In real life there are people who are victimized and need help out of the situation. You don't have to avoid stories that explore the ways this happens, including how it happens to women. However you can explore these themes without falling back on gender stereotypes (and not just stereotypes of women), treating women only as props, or glorifying/fetishizing the abuse of women. Now let's say for the sake of argument that you aren't a feminist and like stories involving submissive women who are rescued by men, so all this discussion of how it perpetuates sexism doesn't speak to you (in which case I'm not exactly sure why you're here as my fiction is probably not to your taste). I still argue that the classic form of a damsel in distress that I described as 'negative' is still a poor storytelling choice regardless of your views on gender norms. What emotional payoff is there to your readers if the damsel could be replaced with the statue of a bird of prey with no real change in the story? Not a whole lot. There is nothing there to make your readers truly care about the welfare of the damsel and it's lazy storytelling. Making her a full fledged character, even one who adheres to very traditional gender roles, is going to be far better than a cardboard cutout who only serves as a prize for the male hero.
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The more depth your characters have, the richer their internal lives and the more compelling their motivations, the better your story will be. People have a broad range of personalities, motivations, and abilities. Don't pigeonhole them into narrow roles and you can use a trope like the Damsel in Distress in far more interesting ways.<br />
<br />
Tropes are tools. Use them wisely.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08386369227077404895noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513766046525760845.post-7957661629971631592013-11-08T13:00:00.000-05:002013-11-08T13:00:00.937-05:00Chance Meeting - Part III<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WLsibnd7JTo/UnFrBYv1WuI/AAAAAAAACMw/QkO93UO5mBQ/s1600/chance-sm.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WLsibnd7JTo/UnFrBYv1WuI/AAAAAAAACMw/QkO93UO5mBQ/s200/chance-sm.png" width="127" /></a></div>
The last part of this little story and this is where things get interesting. Not beta read, if you find any mistakes you can flog me for them. Share and enjoy.<br />
<br />
<<Part II<br />
<br />
<hr />
<br />
Cal sat up, her shirt slipping down her arms. She didn't notice. How had she been so stupid? That was easy, she had not wanted to see. It was so obvious if she had only paid attention, he was pale, ate no food at the pub, lips colder than they should be, his physical presence and strength.<br />
<br />
"I suppose there's no point convincing you vampires don't exist. Not with shields like that." His gaze drifted down to her now exposed arms, recognition filled his eyes. "Those are spell glyphs aren't they?"<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
<br />
"Yes, I'm a mage." Cal's next words were sharp-edged. Anger was good, it kept the fear under control. "You were going to feed on me, weren't you?"<br />
<br />
"Well, yeah. I wasn't going to kill you though."<br />
<br />
"That's not exactly reassuring."<br />
<br />
Lucas shrugged. "Not trying to reassure you, just stating the truth. I'm not in the habit of leaving bodies lying around, it attracts far too much attention."<br />
<br />
Cal studied his face, trying to judge how immediate a threat he posed. He could overpower her with ease if he chose to. Would he? It occurred to her that he looked inquisitive, like a child who had just found his very first lighting bug. Something brand new to figure out. Disconcerting was probably an understatement, but curiosity was preferable to hunger.<br />
<br />
A troubling thought crept in. "If I wasn't shielded would you have fed before or after raping me?"<br />
<br />
Lucas eyes went wide as he shook his head, he actually looked shocked. Before that moment Cal wouldn't have thought it was possible. Under less terrifying circumstances it would have been comical.<br />
<br />
"No. I do have my limits, as few as they are, and fucking someone who cannot respond doesn't appeal to me. I let my control slip, I wasn't planning to feed on you until after we had..." He trailed off. "I'm just digging myself in deeper now."<br />
<br />
That cut the tension and they both laughed. Lucas's laugh was not the same as it had been at the Eight Arms, it was still full of genuine humor but cold at the same time. He was no longer pretending to be human. The shift was subtle, a difference in how he held himself, a stillness. His breathing had all but stopped.<br />
<br />
Cal had met a handful of vampires before but never had the opportunity to talk anything but business. When she was fifteen years old she had encountered her first vampire. A woman came to speak to her grandfather in his capacity of Guardian for the three northernmost New England states. She had not stayed long but the way she had been able to assume then drop the pretense of being human had terrified Cal at the time. One minute she was an animated young woman who looked only a few years older than Cal and the next something altogether different: a predator. Subsequent experience had been less frightening but cemented her opinion of their nature. Humans are food.<br />
<br />
Lucas was still standing in front of her as she sat on the bed, staring at her with eyes she could not read. Her shirt was still half off, bunched around her waist. Modesty was not one of Cal's virtues but his unblinking gaze made her feel exposed. She moved to pull the shirt back up.<br />
<br />
Her eyes never registered the movement. Lucas was just there inches away, hands on her arms. She stopped moving. Had she read the situation wrong? Did he still mean to make a meal of her?<br />
<br />
"I've met a few mages over the years but none of them had glyphs carved into their skin. What kind of mage are you?" He was so close she had to crane her neck to look him in the eyes.<br />
<br />
"Blood Mage." She answered. "The scars work as spell focuses."<br />
<br />
"Blood mage? That's interesting." He leaned down, so close their faces nearly touched. Cal stayed still, fighting the urge to run away. Never run from a predator, they will chase you. Better to face them, bluff them into thinking you aren't prey. "Your magic is called through blood then. What would happen if I bit you now?"<br />
<br />
"I could use the blood to call a spell, make you stop." There was no chance she could perform enough og her ritual to complete a spell if he attacked her, but she might be able to trigger one of the protection spells already set on the house. She hoped so.<br />
<br />
Lucas took a half step back, still too far into her personal space for comfort but at least she had space to breathe again.<br />
<br />
"How old are you?" It seemed like a safe enough question, something to keep him talking.<br />
<br />
"Two hundred and eighty-three years."<br />
<br />
If he had hoped to surprise her with his answer he was wrong. Her first reaction was to think that he was younger than her grandfather. Mages can live a long time. Living centuries was possible and, if she was lucky, she would celebrate multiple centennials. If she was lucky.<br />
<br />
"You're young though, and not afraid." He leaned close again, smiling. For the first time Cal saw his fangs, big and razor-sharp like a leopard's. Where had those come from? Her tongue had been inside his mouth and there was no way she could have missed them. "No, there's fear there but you like it. Very interesting."<br />
<br />
That was far too perceptive of him in Cal's opinion. Even unable to enter her mind he was able to see into her. Why had she not told him to leave? She knew why and it was stupid and dangerous. Lucas had it right, fear excited her.<br />
<br />
What she also liked was control and right now she was losing it. She scrambled for a way to regain her mental footing.<br />
<br />
"Why are you still here?" She asked. "You can't get into my mind to force me to allow you to feed and I'm not about to volunteer."<br />
<br />
"I don't need to cloud your mind to feed. However, you are much more interesting than a meal, I can go a night without blood."<br />
<br />
"So you've given up on drinking my blood?"<br />
<br />
"For tonight. I can think of better things to do." The cocky bastard.<br />
<br />
Cal was starting to like the real Lucas. His human persona had been attractive and normal, and in her life that wasn't enough. This however was fascinating and appealed to that darker part of her psyche she rarely indulged. Besides, for once she didn't have to hide who she was from the person she was with.<br />
<br />
"If you are still interested, that is?"<br />
<br />
It was a spectacularly bad idea. What the hell.<br />
<br />
"I am."<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
* * * * *</div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
Lucas skimmed his fingers over the scarification on Cal's arm, fascinated by the intricate designs. They were beautiful, like her arms were etched with lace. Each line was raised, giving the skin a ridged texture. His eyes drifted down from one set of scars to another. These were far from beautiful, an angry web centered over her right hip. What happened to her?<br />
<br />
She'd fallen asleep in his arms. No tricks, no influencing her mind, she had just snuggled in close and drifted off. He had been laying here, holding her, for the past ten minutes.<br />
<br />
His last meal had been three days ago, a young man he met at a bar. A little shy, cute rather than handsome, probably underage with a fake ID. It had been easy, a practiced routine, there was always someone looking for a connection: sex, companionship, to feel, to forget. Lucas would seek them out, charm them. Sometimes it led to sex, more often not, but eventually he would take control of their mind and feed. In the morning they would be a little light headed but remember nothing. It had been many years since he had killed one of his meals, there was no need and people noticed too many unexplained deaths. The boy had been tasty, a bit too much alcohol in his blood for Lucas' taste but young and sweet anyway. He was hungry again but not desperate, not yet, he could go over a week if he was forced to but it wasn't comfortable. He could wait.<br />
<br />
She was so close, so warm. He could smell the blood flowing under her skin. Copper and life, better than anything he could remember eating or drinking when human. Her curls brushed his cheek where she nestled against him. Still damp from the shower they had shared. Her fresh scrubbed face, now free of makeup and false lashes, was relaxed. It was a strong face, one that matched her personality, but with a sweetness that could so easily be lost. All he would need to do is tip his head just a short distance, her neck was so close.<br />
<br />
How had she been able to fall asleep at all? She knew what he was, how dangerous he could be. Still she had taken him to bed and now she slept like it was another human next to her. Was Cal really so comfortable with him? She couldn't trust him, could she? She was so young, even younger than he'd been when turned, but she wasn't some innocent creature unaware of the threat he could pose.<br />
<br />
He thought back over the night. Cal was very clear about what she was agreeing to, no blood but bruises were okay. Lucas could see several already forming on her thigh. She had asked for every one, begged in fact. Tonight had been very enjoyable for the both of them. If he violated her consent now, there would be no second chance with her. Normally this wouldn't concern him but he found himself liking the young mage and wanting to see her again. She could hold her own with him, that was rare enough to not throw away.<br />
<br />
Lucas bent down, laying a light kiss over her carotid artery. He wanted more but if she didn’t offer he wouldn't take it. At least not yet.<br />
<br />
“What am I getting myself into?” He whispered.<br />
<br />
<hr />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08386369227077404895noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513766046525760845.post-19577323676896230412013-11-01T01:00:00.000-04:002013-11-01T11:04:05.505-04:00Chance Meeting - Part II<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center; width: 200px;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/---5nAB9bTSs/UmiIHDSTcGI/AAAAAAAACL4/SUM-hqFMZ8c/s1600/__Maine_coon_en_balade_2_by_Flore_stock.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/---5nAB9bTSs/UmiIHDSTcGI/AAAAAAAACL4/SUM-hqFMZ8c/s200/__Maine_coon_en_balade_2_by_Flore_stock.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I swear not every picture for<br />
this story will be a cat.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Just a mild content notice, things get a bit sexy in this chapter or at least that's the intention. Your mileage may vary. The final part of this story will be posted Friday, Nov. 8. Again, this hasn't been beta read so any mistakes are 100% my fault. Share and enjoy.<br />
<br />
Cal's cat Ghost is based off a stray cat that adopted my family when I was a kid. He was brown rather than gray but the personality is the same. Whiskers was a big, tough, cat who would disappear for days or weeks at a time and saw humans mostly as food dispensers. <br />
<br />
<a href="http://tentacle-pen.blogspot.com/2013/10/chance-meeting-part-i.html" target="_blank"><<Part I</a> -- Part III>><br />
<br />
<hr />
<br />
Cal lived on the outskirts of Falmouth, still close enough to Portland to make the drive less than twenty minutes on the nearly empty roads, but far enough out to be almost rural. The house sat back a ways from the road, partially screened by a line of trees. Stretching out around and behind the house was a half-acre of, mostly wooded, land that served as a buffer zone between her and the neighbors. It wasn't a large place, just an average two bedroom cape with fading yellow siding and gray shingle roof.<br />
<br />
The only thing that made it stand out from the hundreds of similar houses along the Maine coast was the front yard. There was no lawn, instead there was a riot of perennials, flowering shrubs, and wildflowers that reseeded themselves each year. A haven for butterflies, bees, and birds. This late in the autumn, however, it was dead and brown except for a handful of evergreens and the bright red of winterberries.<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
<br />
“Do you live here alone?” Lucas asked, as they climbed out of the vehicle.<br />
<br />
“Just me and Ghost. Don’t expect that cat to make friends, I’m not sure he more than tolerates me.”<br />
<br />
“Big place for just one person.”<br />
<br />
“Yeah, my mom owns the house but I’ve been renting it from her since she moved to Florida.” That was more or less true, there was no need to explain in more detail to someone she might not see again after tonight. No need to say that her mother had taken off and left her as an emancipated minor when she was sixteen. She had been taking care of herself long before her mom left and everything had worked out in the end.<br />
<br />
Lucas was attractive and his voice was sexy as hell but relationships weren't easy for her, especially not with someone so normal. People had accused her of being cold on more than one occasion, mostly ex-partners. It was true she rarely saw anyone for very long and never seriously but it wasn't because she was heartless and did not want a relationship. She would have liked to have a normal relationship but her life made it hard to keep one going for any length of time. The secrets added up.<br />
<br />
“We won’t have to be quiet then,” Lucas said as they reached the side door that led from the garage into the house, “no roommates to wake up.”<br />
<br />
Cal had a momentary worry about whether this was a good idea but shrugged it off and unlocked the door. She was bringing a man she had only known for a couple of hours into her home and that wasn't always the safest course of action. It was an acceptable risk to her.<br />
<br />
She led Lucas into the house, through the small kitchen to the living room. A large gray Maine coon hissed at the pair from his perch on the arm of the sofa. Ghost was not happy to see them. Cal wasn't too happy to see him either, he had further shredded the living room furniture while she was away. That it was all second-hand was a minor consolation. Despite his foul attitude towards new people and destructive habits she was quite fond of the cat and she hadn't seen even a hint of a mouse since the former stray had adopted her.<br />
<br />
Taking the initiative Cal gave him another kiss. His lips are still cold but not as icy as before, they would warm up soon enough. For of moment the two of them stood there, in the middle of the living room, each getting to know the taste of the other's mouth. This time it was Lucas who broke the kiss.<br />
<br />
“Bedroom?” His voice was even lower than before, almost growling. Cal had been wrong, his voice could get sexier. Nodding she took his hand again.<br />
<br />
Her room, like much of the house, was sparsely furnished. Cal wasn't much for decorating, she just did not see the point of keeping any furniture around that was not used regularly or knickknacks Ghost could break. A queen sized bed stood in the middle of the room, covered in soft blue cotton sheets and a darker navy bedspread. A small night stand stood next to it with only a lamp, her alarm clock, and a half full glass of water from the previous night still sitting on it. There was a dresser littered with makeup and hair products next to the closet and a hamper close to overflowing. Cal wished she had picked up a bit more earlier.<br />
<br />
She had not been exaggerating when she told Lucas about her love of art. The walls were the one place she had spent some effort to decorate, they were number of prints and even a few original paintings hanging around the room. She had bought them all from galleries in Portland so most of them were local artists. Her favorite hung over the bed, a large watercolor of ravens picking over the bones of a body lying in the snow.<br />
<br />
Lucas did not waste much time taking in the room, all his attention was on Cal. He was running his fingertips lightly up and down Cal's waist over her corset.<br />
<br />
"This is what caught my attention first." He said. "So many girls look like they're wearing a costume in a corset but you are completely at ease in it, and it's laced properly."<br />
<br />
“Thank you.”<br />
<br />
He kissed her again softly. His hands slid from her waist to her back, finding the knot in the laces over her corset. Without even fumbling, his fingers quickly untied it and loosened the laces. Cal was a bit impressed, she had run into enough men who had trouble just unhooking a bra. She reached between them and popped open the busk then tossed it on top of the dresser. Her aim was off and the mass of burgundy fabric and steel boning tumbled down to the floor, trailing laces that caught on the drawer knobs. Cal let it lay there.<br />
<br />
Lucas slipped behind her, kissing first the back of her neck then working his way up to nibble her earlobe while Cal worked on unfastening the buttons of her shirt. She let it hang open when she turned around to face him again. His eyes widened as he got his first glimpse of her body. Cal was muscular and her tall frame carried it well, strong but not bulky. In high school and college she had been a competitive swimmer until the car accident had ended her championship ambitions. The training had stuck and while her hip injury limited how rigorous her exercise could be she still swam several days a week. A little less muscle mass and a little more padding was the result but she still didn't have what could be called curves.<br />
<br />
Lucas seemed to appreciate what he saw if the eagerness with which he pulled Cal back to him was anything to go by. He snaked his fingers into her curls as they kissed. It was good, really good, but Cal needed more. She ended the kiss with a few nips to his bottom lip.<br />
<br />
"You don't need to be so gentle," she said, "in fact I'd rather you weren't."<br />
<br />
Lucas responded by gripping her hair tightly and kissing her with more force. Cal moaned against his mouth when he bit at her tongue. That was much better.<br />
<br />
"You like it rough?"<br />
<br />
"Gods, yes."<br />
<br />
"Safe word?" That was an unexpected question, a very welcome one though. Maybe more than one night was a possibility.<br />
<br />
"Red. Yellow to slow down. I like to keep it simple."<br />
<br />
"How far can I go?"<br />
<br />
"Bruises, no marks on my face and no broken skin. Condoms are in the nightstand drawer."<br />
<br />
"Prepared and you know what you want. Very, very sexy."<br />
<br />
The room became a blur as Lucas flung her face first to the bed by her hair. When Cal flipped herself back over Lucas was leaning over her. He had managed to lose his shirt in that brief time and Cal enjoyed the view. He was slender but well-built, muscles lightly defined. Almost skinny but not quite. From the ease he tossed her to the bed, deceptively strong too.<br />
<br />
He crawled up her body, placing biting kisses along all her exposed skin. Cal floated on the waves of hormones and endorphins flooding her body.<br />
<br />
A sensation like invisible fingers at her temples pressed against her mind. In a fraction of a second all the arousal washed away like being tossed into an icy river. Someone was trying to use mind control on her. What she did next was pure reflex, throwing up her psychic defenses, slamming her shields shut on the invader's psychic fingers. Lucas leapt off her in a blur. The pieces fell into place.<br />
<br />
"Shit! You're a fucking vampire."<br />
<br />
<hr />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08386369227077404895noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513766046525760845.post-34491084474462077112013-10-25T13:00:00.000-04:002013-11-01T11:05:34.580-04:00Chance Meeting - Part I<div style="text-align: right;">
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center; width: 140px;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8QYVpnTAf7M/UmiFfMCyexI/AAAAAAAACLw/UmHEbsWVTU0/s1600/kitty-snacks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8QYVpnTAf7M/UmiFfMCyexI/AAAAAAAACLw/UmHEbsWVTU0/s200/kitty-snacks.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I googled 'toaster kitten' this is what I found.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Here's the first part of how Cal and Lucas met, part 2 will be posted Friday, Nov 1. Thanks go to my good friend (and actual professional author) <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Garrett-Cook/e/B002BME326" target="_blank">Garrett Cook</a> for coming up with the band name "Toaster Kittens".<br />
<br />
This has not been beta read by anyone so I take full responsibility for any mistakes. Share and enjoy.<br />
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<a href="http://tentacle-pen.blogspot.com/2013/10/chance-meeting-introduction.html" target="_blank"><<Introduction</a> -- <a href="http://tentacle-pen.blogspot.com/2013/11/chance-meeting-part-ii.html"> Part II>></a><br />
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“How do I look?” Jill gave a little twirl. Her short red dress flared out around her hips as she turned. Loose waves tumbled around her shoulders, the darkest gold that could still be called blonde.<br />
<br />
“Fantastic.” Cal replied. Jill had a knack for fashion and makeup that Cal found almost miraculous. The vintage Hollywood starlet in front of her was so different from the casual look Jill usually sported. The round girlish face transformed from cute to sultry with full red lips and large blue eyes.<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
<br />
Cal’s own outfit for the concert was less glamorous but equally sexy. Currently she was struggling to fasten the front busk of her under-bust corset. It was brocade, with deep burgundy flowers and leaves wove their way over a black ground, and went from just under her breasts down to her hips. She was wearing it over a long-sleeved champagne top that was low-cut enough to show just a hint of cleavage, on a more well endowed woman it would have been more than a hint. The long sleeves were the reason she had chosen this top to wear under the corset, the intricate scarification on her arms often drew unwanted attention. She wanted to have fun tonight, not deal with people who didn't respect her personal space and tried to touch without asking. The long loose sleeves concealed them from view, while the creamy color complemented her olive skin. Form fitting black pants and mid-calf suede boots completed the outfit, the two-inch heels brought her up to exactly six feet tall. Finally on the fourth attempt she got all the hooks and posts on the busk to line up. She wiggled it around until the center of the corset and the buttons of her shirt all lined up properly.<br />
<br />
“Tighten me up?” She asked.<br />
<br />
Jill tugged on the laces until the corset was snug but not as tight as she was able to wear it. The plan tonight included plenty of dancing and it would not do to be suffocated by her wardrobe. The corset was comfortable, she could wear it all night, but if she was going to do anything strenuous she needed some breathing room.<br />
<br />
“How’s that feel?”<br />
<br />
“Good, thanks.”<br />
<br />
Jill tied it off and tucked the loops up under the crisscrossing laces to keep them out of the way. Corsets weren't Jill's style but she had helped Cal get into hers more than once.<br />
<br />
“Sit down so I can do your makeup” Jill said.<br />
<br />
Cal obediently took a seat on the edge of her bed so Jill could get to work. Despite her friend’s best efforts at teaching her, makeup was never something Cal had mastered. Probably due to insufficient practice. She only ever wore makeup when going out, maybe once or twice a month, not every day. A little mascara and lip gloss was the extent of her expertise.<br />
<br />
“So what is this band like?” Cal asked. The concert invitation had been last-minute and she had tried to turn it down but Jill was hard to say no to. Maybe a night of fun was what Cal needed to get her mind off losing the art gallery job.<br />
<br />
“French-Canadian with a bit of a rock twist. They’re a lot of fun.” Jill shrugged. “Don’t ask me why they’re called the Toaster Kittens though. Tip your head up.”<br />
<br />
Jill applied false lashes to Cal’s upper lids, careful to avoid poking her in the eye. They felt thick and scratchy against the top of her cheeks when she blinked. No way they would last the night.<br />
<br />
“I hope these are worth it, they aren’t very comfortable”<br />
<br />
“Says the lady in a corset.” Jill laughed. “Suck it up. I don’t get to see you all dolled up often.”<br />
<br />
“Hey! The corset is comfortable and it gives me good back support.”<br />
<br />
“Whatever you say, Callie. I think that’s about it. Take a look.”<br />
<br />
Looking at her reflection in the bedroom mirror, she was impressed. Jill had taken her cues from Cal’s outfit and gone for dramatic. A dark smoky eye and the false lashes brought out the amber tones in her eyes so they appeared to be the same burnt orange color as the late autumn leaves on the maple trees outside. Black cherry lip gloss almost the same deep wine color as her corset painted her lips. On someone as fair as Jill the dark colors would have looked too stark but against Cal's darker golden complexion they were more complementary. Shimmery color picked out her prominent cheek bones. Chin length auburn curls fell in soft ringlets around her face, no help from Jill was required for those, her hair had a natural curl that just needed a little taming. The entire look was meant to highlight the striking planes of her face, an angularity softened from harshness only by her full lips and bright wide-set eyes.<br />
<br />
Cal was never inconspicuous but she rarely felt beautiful, Jill had done a remarkable job. This wasn't self-consciousness on her part, she was comfortable with her appearance, but the box labeled 'conventionally pretty' does not include 5'10” women with more muscle than curves and extensive body art.<br />
<br />
Jill’s brother Ethan and his wife Sara had met them in the parking garage a couple of streets over. Ethan was a taller version of his twin sister, the soft roundness of her features became more squared off in his face butthey had the same bright blue eyes and dark honey hair. Fashion sense was not something he shared with his sister however and so he was dressed in sneakers, jeans, and a Star Trek t-shirt. His bride of six months was of average height with a full figure and smiling brown eyes that peered out through her gold wire-rim glasses. Sara’s black hair was close-cropped into a pixie cut and she wore black dress pants, a burnt orange blouse, and shiny black ballet flats. She looked like an elementary school teacher not an electrician. In fact it was Ethan who was the teacher, high school English.<br />
<br />
The line at the State Theater for the concert was mercifully short. It was a mild night for early November but in Maine that still meant it was anything but warm. As expected Krissy was running late and they were already in the theater by the time she arrived. She had dressed up in a short green dress over black leggings, sparkling green and gold barrettes pinned back her thick, almost knee-length, dark brown hair. All together they made their way down the aisle to the open dance area in front of the stage.<br />
<br />
It was hard for Cal to dwell on losing her job when surrounded by the energetic music and so many people having a good time. She let the energy carry her away and just danced. Her heart raced, adrenaline pumping through her in time to the music.<br />
<br />
A number of people danced with her, drifting in and out of a core group that formed spontaneously early in the show. They stayed together through the show with that easy familiarity that forms among groups of strangers having a good time. A burly man at least six inches taller than Cal with hair even redder and curlier than her own. Another with platinum blond hair, and judging by his dark eyebrows it was not his natural color, of average height and with his slender build and eyeliner was on the pretty side of androgynous. The only other woman, besides Cal and Jill, was petite with ample curves, a shaved head, and eyes such a bright green that they were noticeable even in the dim light of the theater. The last man drew Cal’s interest the most, all night her eyes kept being drawn to him. He was a shade taller than Cal, slender but not delicate like the blond boy. Dark hair long enough to brush the color of his shirt, almost artfully messy. His face was pale without a trace of freckles, the kind of fair skin that looked healthy not pasty from too much time indoors. An unlined face but no longer boyish, Cal judged him at around thirty, and quite attractive if you liked the intense type. Cal did. His eyes were dark but not brown, definitely a cool color but whether a deep blue or gray she couldn't tell in this light.<br />
<br />
Cal caught only occasional glimpses of her other friends. Ethan and Sarah were never more than a yard away from each other all night and while they danced together near Cal’s group they never joined in for very long. So wrapped up in each other that they never noticed when they had drifted away from the others. Krissy was even more elusive, dancing in and out of various groups never staying in one place for longer than a single song.<br />
<br />
Cal's face was flushed and her hip was aching when the concert wrapped up just before eleven o'clock. For probably the millionth time in the past six years, she cursed the drunk driver who crushed the right half of her pelvis. Her injuries had healed, after multiple surgeries and months of physical therapy, but the rebuilt joint still have her trouble sometimes.<br />
<br />
Their little cluster of dancers scattered, each off to find their way home while Cal and Jill looked around for the other three. Walking out into the cold night air she had to dodge around a young woman who had spilled the contents of her purse over the lobby floor and ran straight into someone else.<br />
<br />
“Oops, excuse me.” Cal said as she stumbled backwards.<br />
<br />
“No worries.” It was the dark-haired man who had attracted her attention so much earlier. In the brighter light of the lobby she could see his eyes were a dark silvery blue. With his midnight blue silk shirt and cool coloring he was almost the polar opposite of her warm tones. “I'm Lucas, by the way.”<br />
<br />
His voice was a rumbling baritone with a pronounced English accent, it sent a warm shiver down Cal’s body. She could listen to a voice like that all night. Maybe she would.<br />
<br />
“Calliope… but most people call me Cal.” She wasn't terribly fond of her first name, her family had rather old-fashioned ideas when it came to names, to make matters worse, she did not share her namesake's way with poetry. “We’re heading to the Eight Arms for a bit,” she said, indicating her three friends, “would you like to come along?”<br />
<br />
“Alright.”<br />
<br />
The Eight Arms was a friendly little pub filled with long tables and good food. While visiting family in Scotland, owners Greg and Rose Reed, had fallen in love with the neighborhood pub. When they returned to Maine they had decided to open the Eight Arms. The result was a place beloved by locals but never quite making any of the lists of trendy eateries.<br />
<br />
Lucas seated himself across the table from her while Jill sat to her left. Krissy was across from Jill while Sarah and Ethan sat opposite each other on Cal’s right. Rose, a plump woman in her early fifties, was doing the waitressing duties tonight and took their orders with the smile of someone who was living her dream. Cal ordered a plate of poutine, the Eight Arms may be inspired by a Scottish pub but it’s menu is not. A big serving of french fries smothered in savory turkey gravy and fresh cheese curds was just what she needed, all the activity had given her a hearty appetite.<br />
<br />
Rose had their drinks on the table in under five minutes. Cal just had a glass of water, she didn't enjoy the taste of alcohol, and liked its effects on her head even less. The rest of the group ordered beers. Whatever Lucas was drinking had a dark, almost black, color and smelled like pumpernickel bread to Cal. The Eight Arms prided itself on the beers it served and while Cal couldn't appreciate the taste, any beer that left her nose unwrinkled had her approval.<br />
<br />
The group chatted a bit while they waited for their food. Krissy was so excited to tell them about her new boyfriend, a grad student studying civil engineering, that she was almost babbling. They were going kayaking next weekend. Cal was happy for her, Krissy was something of a workaholic and had to be cajoled into taking a break from computer programming once in a while. Sarah and Ethan shared pictures of their new puppy, a shaggy, lop-eared mixed breed from a shelter. He was absolutely adorable.<br />
<br />
Turning her attention back to Lucas she asked him how long he’d been living in the area and what he did for a living.<br />
<br />
“I’ve been in Portland a little over a year though I’ve been living in the US for quite a bit longer than that, my parents moved us here when I was fifteen. I do freelance graphic design, keeps my schedule flexible. What about you?”<br />
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Cal’s food arrived giving her a m<br />
<br />
oment to think and mentally kick herself for asking a question she should have known would be turned back on her. The last thing she wanted tonight was a reminder that she had lost another job, one she really enjoyed too. Not to mention the reason she had missed enough work to get fired. She had other responsibilities that had to come ahead of a normal job. <br />
<br />
“Umm… well I had been working at an art gallery but they couldn’t afford to keep me on.” Lying gets easier with practice, and Cal had years worth, but she'd never been able to shake the guilt. Even over such an innocuous lie. “So as of two days ago I’m job hunting.”<br />
<br />
“I’m sorry to hear that. Do you want to keep working in art?”<br />
<br />
“I hope so. I’m not an artist myself but I like being around creative people.”<br />
<br />
Cal relaxed as the conversation moved on to safer territory: favorite movies and books. Lucas was also a science fiction fan. He, Cal, and Ethan got into the classic debate over who was the best Star Trek captain. Cal was partial to Picard while the two men favored Kirk.<br />
<br />
Jill occasionally stole a gravy coated fry from Cal’s plate while rambling on about movies. Fried foods made her a bit sick but a nibble or two wouldn't hurt and Cal was happy to share with her best friend.<br />
<br />
“We’re heading out, Callie.” Jill announced, maybe an hour after they arrived at the pub.<br />
<br />
“Okay, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” Cal replied, standing to give each of her friends a hug goodnight.<br />
<br />
“Let me know how it goes.” Jill’s voice was just above a whisper as she returned Cal’s embrace.<br />
<br />
“I will.” She answered with a smile.<br />
<br />
The three friends gave Lucas departing waves. Seated again, Cal turned back to Lucas, without her friends she was a bit nervous. She toyed with the few soggy fries remaining on her plate.<br />
<br />
“So I was thinking of heading home too.” She paused, working up her courage. “Feel like joining me?”<br />
<br />
“Absolutely.” The smile on his face was eager but sweet and genuine.<br />
<br />
Cal relaxed at his reply, she’d steeled herself for a rejection that had not come. It wasn't the first time she had invited a man to come home with her, and more than a one had refused. Sometimes she just read his interest wrong, other men seemed offended at her making the first move. The former was disappointing, the latter more depressing.<br />
<br />
Lucas rose to his feet, holding out his hand to her. She took it. His hand was strong and cool.<br />
<br />
It was a short walk from the Eight Arms to where Cal had parked her battered green jeep. Her friends’ cars were already gone and Lucas had told her earlier he took a cab to the theater. There was no one else nearby so late. Lucas pulled her into a kiss as they stood in the cold November air. His lips were both soft and icy, but the latter was easy to ignore; it was a great kiss. She hated to pull away from his lips but it was freezing and she wasn't wearing a coat.<br />
<br />
Inside Cal felt ready to go right there in the jeep but public sex had never been her kink. She would just have to keep her hormones in check until they reached her house.<br />
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<a href="http://tentacle-pen.blogspot.com/2013/11/chance-meeting-part-ii.html"> <span style="font-size: large;">Part II>></span></a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08386369227077404895noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513766046525760845.post-44226336198012190052013-10-23T05:00:00.000-04:002013-10-23T06:02:25.884-04:00Chance Meeting - IntroductionStarting on FridayI have a brand new short story. It's been cut into three parts which are a little longer than I like to post but it was where the natural breaks in the story are.<br>
<br>
This isn't a story I planned to write at first but while working on my novel I found myself needing more of Cal's backstory with Lucas. The problem with this is of course that I don't write love stories, not out of any objection to them, I just have no sense of romance (which every guy I've ever been with can attest to). So instead I approached this story in two ways: <br>
<br>
First I wanted to play with some tropes of both vampire stories and romances, either subverting them or making them fully justified by the circumstances (actually playing with genre tropes is one of my favorite parts of writing). For example, fabulous sexy wardrobes are a staple of romances but Cal and Lucas are both pretty casual dressers most of the time. So the circumstances they meet under justifies being dressed in sexier outfits than their everyday wardrobes which lean heavily to jeans and tshirts. <br>
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Second I wanted to explore why Cal would choose to start a relationship with a vampire. I'm not a fan of soul mates, love at first sight, or overpowering attraction as the reason for a relationship, it seems like a lazy way to throw two people together who otherwise would never otherwise get together. Real relationship grow into love, they don't start that way, so why would anyone start dating a monster who sees them as food? Cal has her reasons and I wanted to explore them (Lucas of course has reasons of his own but most of the story is from Cal's POV).<br>
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I have more I want to say about Chance Meeting but I'm going to save it for the wrap-up post. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08386369227077404895noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513766046525760845.post-77689446738178386552013-08-21T12:00:00.000-04:002013-08-21T12:00:04.293-04:00Few Thoughts on Writing<br />
One of the reasons I started writing was as a way to relax, I create art for a living so as satisfying as that is it's still work. Writing is solely for fun, any sales on ebooks or anything is just a nice bonus. I have <a href="http://noadi.etsy.com/" target="_blank">other creative pursuits</a> that pay the bills. <br />
<br />
I've always been a bit disappointed with certain types of books and TV shows. Too often the "strong" female characters really aren't that strong or if they are that all goes to hell once they fall in love. This even happens in Buffy the Vampire Slayer at times as much as I love that show, Angel and then later Riley and even Spike made her weaker not stronger. So if I'm writing a female lead character I don't want her to need rescuing all the time, not that she never needs help (because that would be boring and unrealistic even in a universe where magic and vampires exist), but she is quite competent and formidable all on her own and it is <b>not</b> the job of her love interest to save her. In my mind Cal's a bit like a female Harry Dresden.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="height: 266px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center; width: 356px;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2s554eoGEVs/UhRFZmQ0VEI/AAAAAAAACI4/y1X3REmK48o/s1600/tumblr_m8kc66iumZ1ru4t8ao1_400.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2s554eoGEVs/UhRFZmQ0VEI/AAAAAAAACI4/y1X3REmK48o/s1600/tumblr_m8kc66iumZ1ru4t8ao1_400.gif" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yeah, this doesn't happen in my writing. Period. Not even with a freaky chaos inducing spell on Halloween.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
This isn't a happy nice world, again magic and creatures that eat people exist in it and that doesn't lend itself to sunshine and puppies. Even if it did, that would be boring. It seems like the more I write using these characters the darker it gets, the Blue Lady has a pretty tidy happy ending but the novella I'm working on right now probably won't (I'm still fuzzy on how I'll end it, but I'm far from that point in the writing) and I'm torturing my characters in the process.<br />
<br />
You could could make a pretty good drinking game out of spotting my
kinks in my writing and they aren't light and fluffy ones. I'll admit
now that there's a certain amount of what I write that is blatantly
pulled from my own fantasies (ahem, Lucas's accent). In a lot of vampire stories it's implied that blood drinking is a metaphor or substitute for penetrative sex, I'm going to say right now that in my stories it's not. Doesn't mean the blood drinking isn't sexual, because it certainly is, but it's more of a masochistic blood fetish because that's a lot more fun to explore. <br />
<br />
This is how I like to approach my writing. I ask myself what sort of scenarios would be fun to explore and go from there. This is why I've chosen to have Cal and Lucas already in a relationship that has existed long enough for them to be living together because figuring out how you actually make a long term relationship with a vampire work is more interesting to me than how they fell in love (I am writing a short story about how they met, because the idea I came up with was kind of fun and I couldn't leave it just as something in my notes). I hope people enjoy it but I write to please myself first and my audience second. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08386369227077404895noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513766046525760845.post-85139072125714512252013-08-16T17:49:00.003-04:002013-08-16T17:49:37.075-04:00Update on Writing ProgressSo what I had planned to be a novella in the 20K word range is taking on a life of it's own. My rough draft is already a few pages longer than the Blue Lady and I'm still firmly in the beginning of the story. I would be unsurprised if the final word count for the rough draft is closer to 50K and my rough drafts are always shorter than my later drafts (because I work out plot and characters first then flesh out the rest). What this means is that for the foreseeable future posts with new fiction will be few and far between unless I get an idea stuck in my head.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08386369227077404895noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513766046525760845.post-85660604684135783022013-07-12T18:02:00.000-04:002013-10-25T13:26:10.216-04:00Boredom<i>This is the first piece of really short fiction from the <a href="http://tentacle-pen.blogspot.com/p/blood-mage-stories.html" target="_blank">Blood Mage universe</a>. I sometimes get these ideas stuck in my head that really don't belong in a longer story but are fun and help me get to know the characters a little better. It hasn't been edited or checked for errors by anyone other than myself.</i><br />
<br />
<i> This story came about when I asked myself what Cal and Lucas would do if they were bored on a night at home. It doesn't really have a set time it takes place other than sometime after Cal and Lucas begin living together.</i><br />
<br />
<hr /><br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9poz7huv1wE/Umht7NEH0RI/AAAAAAAACLg/mXv7tr9vPoE/s1600/boredom.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9poz7huv1wE/Umht7NEH0RI/AAAAAAAACLg/mXv7tr9vPoE/s320/boredom.png" width="204" /></a>Cal could feel a light pressure behind her eyes. She looked up from the book she was reading and turned to Lucas.<br />
<br />
"I get it, you're bored?"<br />
<br />
"What?" He gave her his most innocent look. It didn't work, maybe because he was never innocent.<br />
<br />
"You're trying to get into my head and you only do that when you're bored." The first time Lucas had tried to use mind control on her Cal had been livid. That was before either of them knew what the other was, now it had become something of a game between them. Lucas would try to find cracks in her shields and she would build them up stronger. This time he had tried to be subtle, to find a weakness before she knew he was probing at her mind. He was getting much better at this but his touch still wasn’t light enough to avoid detection.<a name='more'></a><br />
<br />
The force inside her mind grew stronger, sliding along the edges of her mind. Warm fingers feeling for a way in. Now that he was discovered Lucas was neither gentle nor tentative, holding back would spoil the challenge. Cal closed her eyes and focused inwards on her shields looking for any weaknesses. Lucas' mind was attacking multiple locations at once trying to keep her from figuring out his point of focus.<br />
<br />
Right there was a thin spot, somewhere near her left ear or at least that's where it felt like it was. Her shields were built of mental energy and concentration, they didn't really have a physical form or location inside her head. The pressure was pushing harder against the spot. He was trying a new tactic this time and she wasn't quite sure what it was bit it wasn't going to work. It was getting warmer and warmer, almost hot now. <br />
<br />
Cal gasped as the mental fingers turned cold and sharp and spread out into an ice cold sheet of needles wrapped around her shields. Her concentration wavered at the shock but didn't break Gathering up her focus she poured energy into her shields, reinforcing them and pushing out hard. Lucas' influence broke and melted away.<br />
<br />
Lucas was leaned forward in his chair, exhausted when Cal opened her eyes. He had thrown everything he had at her. <br />
<br />
"Still bored?"<br />
<br />
"Not at all."<br />
<br />
"Good."Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08386369227077404895noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513766046525760845.post-41971652656351785332013-07-04T01:33:00.001-04:002013-07-04T11:58:37.301-04:00What's Next?I've started a new writing project featuring Cal and Lucas which is looking to be quite a bit longer than 'The Blue Lady' and it's far from complete. In the meantime updates won't be as regular but I hope to post little bits of flash fiction on a semi-regular basis. Some will be in the Bloodmage world and some won't. It really depends on what strikes my fancy. <div><br></div><div>I will post the novella here but I don't really write in a way that I can post chapters as I finish them. I need a complete first draft that's pretty rough to just work out the plot then I rewrite everything. Is it efficient? Not really, but I'm doing this for fun.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08386369227077404895noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513766046525760845.post-11643770585812588002013-06-24T20:00:00.000-04:002013-10-25T13:26:21.379-04:00The Blue Lady - Part VIII<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://tentacle-pen.blogspot.com/2013/06/the-blue-lady-part-vii.html" target="_blank">Part VII</a></span><br />
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<div dir="ltr" id="docs-internal-guid--ae55ddc-6c54-7b76-feb6-99e48a63f0b0" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">J</span>ill took Matty into one of the small bedrooms to tuck him into a cot. It was the first time Cal had gotten a good look at him, a little small for his age with a mop of coppery hair and she thought she got a glimpse of freckles underneath the dirt.<br />
<br />
Lucas, Cal, and her grandfather sat at a small card table in front of the cast iron woodstove. Cal had her back to the comforting heat sipping a cup of tea. The pleasantries aside Russ got down to business, he wasn’t talking grandfather to granddaughter anymore but as the Guardian for Northern New England speaking to one of his Mediators. <br />
<br />
“This is the fifth time something has come through in the past six months and that’s only in New England.” Russ’ voice was gravelly with a heavy Maine accent. “First was that goddamned banshee on Route 1 you took dealt with. Then there were trolls in Vermont."<!--more--><br />
<br />
"Trolls? Is that what happened to your truck?" She had noticed the pickup had some new dents and the hood had been replaced.<br />
<br />
"Ayuh, I hit one there. Stove up the whole front end. I also banished a pixie that was playing tricks up in Machias." He chuckled before continuing with a more serious tone. "Then there was a fucking Black Dog in the middle of Boston last month that took Hilda and half a dozen other mages to corral and send back.” <br />
<br />
Cal had known about the trickster fairy but trolls and a Black Dog? That was far more and far nastier than should be coming through the Veil. Maine got more than it’s share of fae with all the wild places it still had but a city like Boston had wards in place and few enough green spaces for most to avoid the place. It should have been protected. This could be pretty bad.<br />
<br />
“No idea why?” Lucas asked, Cal didn’t need to she could tell from the look on her grandfather’s face.<br />
<br />
“I’m telling you I’m going to find out. Hilda has been digging too.”<br />
<br />
Cal didn’t get along with the Guardian of Massachusetts but she respected Hilda. She also had an extensive network of magic users, preternatural beings, and mundane informants. If anyone in New England knew what was going on Hilda Ingridsdottir would find out.<br />
<br />
“We’ll let you know if we hear anything Grampa.”<br />
<br />
Russ patted her softly on the back it, it was as close to affectionate as the old mage got. <br />
<br />
“You’d better take off, don’t want your bloodsucker to get sunburnt.”<br />
<br />
That was the closest to concern for Lucas he had ever shown. It was a definite improvement in relations when Russ didn’t want to kill him.<br />
<br />
Cal walked back to the bedroom where Jill had stayed with Matty. She was sitting on an old folding chair watching over the little boy. Russ’ dog Bandit was curled up at the end of the bed, his head laying across Matty’s feet.<br />
<br />
“How’s he doing?” She asked softly.<br />
<br />
“Seems okay. He must be exhausted, he didn’t even wake up when I carried him in.”<br />
<br />
“He probably is but Lucas also put him under.” She leaned down to scratch behind one of Bandit’s floppy ears. He was a big, good-natured, mutt. No one was entirely sure what breeds were in his background but he was shaped a bit like a labrador but with long thick fur and markings a bit like a husky, including the dark mask that gave him his name.<br />
<br />
“You know it’s creepy that he can do that, right?”<br />
<br />
“Yeah.” Cal didn’t like the direction the conversation had taken. Lucas’ ability to affect minds both disturbed her and frequently came in handy. She also felt strangely guilty that it was something she’d never had to worry about him using it on her, even before they’d really gotten to know each other, being a mage she already had strong mental shields up.<br />
<br />
“Callie, look at your pants. They’re ruined.” Cal looked down at her blue jeans, they weren’t very blue anymore. She doubted she’d ever be able to get the combination of drying blood and muck out of them. At least her shirt had been spared.<br />
<br />
Cal and Lucas said their goodbyes and climbed back into the Jeep. She was too tired to argue over who drove and just curled up into the passenger seat. They made it home a couple hours before dawn. Cal had insisted on finding someplace that was open to get food, they had finally found a 24-hour drive-through. One coffee and a blueberry muffin later they were back on the road.<br />
<br />
Cal barely took the time to undress before collapsing in bed. She didn’t even have the energy to wash off the remaining smears of dried blood. Lucas on the other hand didn’t seem to be too tired to her as he started nibbling on her ear. <br />
<br />
Cal rolled over and looked at her lover. “You are insane. I’m so tired I can barely move and you’re horny?”<br />
<br />
“Mm hmm… “ He mumbled into her hair. Cal thought this was taking his fetish for danger a bit far.<br />
<br />
“I’m going to sleep now. Goodnight.” She swore he was actually pouting but it was a fleeting thought as her body gave in to exhaustion.</div>
<hr />
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Jill called that evening to fill her in one what had happened that morning. She and Russ had used a story about Bandit finding Matty while out for an early morning walk. Cal had to laugh at that, the big shaggy mutt wasn’t terribly bright. He’d once gone into a fenced pasture and couldn’t find his way back out through the open gate, finding anyone was well beyond him.<br />
<br />
Matty had been tired, hungry, and a little dehydrated but otherwise fine. Scraped knees were the only injuries. His parents thought it was a miracle and no one was all that surprised when he didn’t remember much. They all assume the funny blue lady he kept talking about had been a dream.<br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><i>And that's the end of the Blue Lady. I'm already working on the next story featuring Cal and Lucas</i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><i><a href="http://tentacle-pen.blogspot.com/2013/06/the-blue-lady-part-vii.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></a><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null">Part VII</a></span> </i></span></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08386369227077404895noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513766046525760845.post-55175087721723574432013-06-17T20:00:00.000-04:002013-10-25T13:27:29.183-04:00The Blue Lady - Part VII<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://Part VI -- Part VIII " target="_blank">Part VI </a>-- <a href="http://tentacle-pen.blogspot.com/2013/06/the-blue-lady-part-viii.html" target="_blank">Part VIII </a></span><br />
<div dir="ltr" id="docs-internal-guid--ae55ddc-6c53-5836-fb54-c25911fa9edb" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><hr /><br />
</div><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span> “Vampire, why do you protect this child?” The voice was strangely melodious, flute-like. “It is mine now.”<br />
<br />
“He looks tasty.”<br />
<br />
A small shudder ran through Cal and she tried to remain focused on the spell. As much as she might with otherwise that was how he saw the little boy. Lying to fairies was much too dangerous. She had no illusions about how little compassion he had for most humans, they were only food to him. What he said wasn’t an answer to the question but it was the truth.<br />
<br />
She managed to bring her focus back to the spell, hoping that Lucas would keep the fairy too distracted to notice her for a few more minutes. Her blood was black in the moonlight as she held her bleeding hands over the bowl. Large, heavy drops fell onto the bread. Tendrils of power spouted out of it like vines, glowing faintly at first then stronger. Ember red.<br />
<br />
The fairy turned towards where Cal was crouched among the trees. It knew now that someone was trying to banish it. Cal would see everything now with the intense clarity that the magic gave her, enhancing all her senses. She had to stand her ground now, breaking the spell at this point would bring it back on herself. She pushed more power into the blood flowing out of her body. Hot rivulets ran down her chest and belly, far more than the shallow cut should have produced. This was the cost.<a name='more'></a><br />
<br />
Cords of power flowed out, twisting around the fairy. Please hurry up and work. The fairy was coming closer, the flutelike voice now a low trill. Is it growling at me? It seemed so slow to her magic flooded brain but there was nothing she could do without breaking the spell.<br />
<br />
Then Lucas was there with that ridiculous sword of his, it was cold iron though. His thrust was aimed at the fairy’s chest but didn’t connect. Instead he was hurled across the clearing into a tree with a sickening crash. A momentary distraction but it was long enough.<br />
<br />
Cal tightened the ropes of power and sealed the spell. She could feel the fairy’s departure as the spell pushed it through the boundary between the worlds, a soundless shock wave only she felt. It was almost disappointing that there was no flash of light or momentous sound, the fairy was just gone. <br />
<br />
She collapsed forward, bracing herself on all fours waiting for her head to stop spinning. As soon as she could move without being sick she looked around for Lucas and Matty. Despite his brief flight Lucas was unhurt though decidedly disheveled. He had the little boy in his arms, Matty looked awake but groggy. The vampire looked down into his eyes intently for a long minute, the toddler’s head nodded slowly as he sank into a deep sleep.<br />
<br />
“He should sleep for the rest of the night.” He laid the little boy gently on the ground.<br />
<br />
Cal nodded. “What will he remember?”<br />
<br />
“Hopefully not much, I clouded his memory. I don’t think anyone will be too surprised by that under the circumstances.” He looked Cal over. “Will you be able to walk out.”<br />
<br />
“I’m just tired, I’ll be fine.” Cal said, standing up slowly. <br />
<br />
The next thing Cal knew she was laying on the ground, she felt hot and dizzy. Lucas crouched over her.<br />
<br />
“Want to try that again?”<br />
<br />
“I’ll be fine, just give me a minute.” Cal tried to sit up but Lucas pushed her back down.<br />
<br />
“Stay there until you’re a bit less green.”<br />
<br />
“Fine. Could you hand me the bottle in my bag?”<br />
<br />
Lucas brought her the bright blue sports drink. She hated the taste, far too sweet, but she needed more than just water after a spell like that. As soon as she’d drained the bottle Lucas was over her pressing a hungry kiss to her lips, she realized she was still bleeding. He pulled away briefly before bending down to her chest.<br />
<br />
“This isn’t the time…”<br />
<br />
“Shh… just cleaning you up.”<br />
<br />
“Lucas.” More firmly this time.<br />
<br />
“Please…”<br />
<br />
There was a quality to his voice that Cal knew. It wasn’t hunger. It was the one that said ‘I need to know you’re still here’ and all those other things he never really said. He cared about her, the one exception to his usual coldness, neither of them understood why he’d chosen to let her in. It didn’t make him less amoral or care more about humans, just one. He needed this reassurance, besides it did feel wonderful.<br />
<br />
Something in the back of her mind was insisting that having your boyfriend lick blood off your body while laying in wet rotting leaves was wrong and shouldn’t feel so good or so comforting. She told it to go away and gave herself permission to enjoy it. This was a kink she’d embraced a long time ago—well not the part with the wet leaves—so she was used to ignoring that voice. She felt Lucas move from her abdomen to first one hand then the other, lapping across the palm and gently sucking on her fingers. Finally he pulled away and helped her sit up, she was still light headed but feeling better. Her skin was fully healed from his saliva, the cuts had been shallow but having them gone made her feel that much better.<br />
<br />
“Here’s your shirt love.” Lucas said, helping her back into it. “Think you can stand now?”<br />
<br />
“Yeah, if you give me a hand up.”<br />
<br />
Cal was still a bit wobbly but was able to keep her feet under her. Lucas was piled everything back into her bag and zipped it up before throwing it over his shoulder. The rapier already hung from his belt. He scooped up the still sleeping Matty and led the way out of the woods. It was slower going this time, but twenty minutes later they were back at the Jeep.<br />
<br />
The half hour drive to Erasmus Barnes’ fishing cabin went by silently. Cal had fallen asleep almost as soon as she climbed it. She woke to her grandfather gently shaking her awake.<br />
<br />
“We need to talk Calliope.”</div><br />
<hr /><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://tentacle-pen.blogspot.com/2013/06/the-blue-lady-part-vi.html" target="_blank">Part VI</a><span style="font-size: large;"> -- <a href="http://tentacle-pen.blogspot.com/2013/06/the-blue-lady-part-viii.html" target="_blank">Part VIII</a></span></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08386369227077404895noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513766046525760845.post-55328101058145164362013-06-10T20:00:00.000-04:002013-10-25T13:27:39.997-04:00The Blue Lady - Part VI<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://tentacle-pen.blogspot.com/2013/06/the-blue-lady-part-v.html" target="_blank">Part </a><a href="http://tentacle-pen.blogspot.com/2013/06/the-blue-lady-part-v.html" target="_blank">V</a> -- <a href="http://tentacle-pen.blogspot.com/2013/06/the-blue-lady-part-vii.html" target="_blank">Part VII</a></span><br />
<hr /><br />
The drive up to the lake took close to an hour. Lucas grumbled the whole time that if he’d been at the wheel of the Jeep it would have been much faster. They had left before sunset so Cal was forced to drive. The vampire had lain in the back seat with Cal’s jacket over his head. The fading sunlight wasn’t enough to harm him but was still painful. 286 years old and he could still be incredibly childish.<br />
<br />
“I swear I’m going to start keeping a ball gag in the glove box.”<br />
<br />
“Handcuffs too?” Lucas grinned.<br />
<br />
“Oh hell. I can’t win can I?”<br />
<br />
“No.”<a name='more'></a><br />
<br />
It was just past 8 o’clock when she turned the Jeep up an old logging road that would get them close to the location on the map. Cal was relieved to finally hear the end of Lucas’ complaints about her driving, it’s wasn’t her fault she had normal human reflexes. The half moon had barely risen above the horizon and Cal was sure that the trees would probably block out even the slightest hint of light.<i> Great.</i> She thought. <i>Lucas is going to have to lead the way. I’ll never hear the end of it.</i><br />
<br />
“After you.” She said once they’d retrieved what they needed from the back of the vehicle. Lucas smirked and grabbed her hand. Yep, he’s going to tease me about this for weeks.<br />
<br />
Lucas led the way, still holding onto her hand. She trusted him to take the most direct path while avoiding anything that would trip her up or make too much noise. Cal was convinced he could walk across bubble wrap without making a sound but she was not quite so nimble.<br />
<br />
Cal's eyes adjusted to the darkness after a few minute but she could still see very little. There was the occasional maple or oak still mostly bare so early in the year letting in brief patches of moonlight but mostly the walked through dense pine trees. The only sounds other than her own footsteps was the constant chorus of spring peepers. <i>How is Lucas that silent?</i> She thought.<br />
<br />
Maybe ten minutes later Lucas slowed their pace. They were close to their destination now and he was relying on his heightened senses over his memory of the map now. Listening, or maybe smelling, for the little boy. He stopped Cal with a hand on her shoulder. She felt him lean in close. Lips brushed her ear.<br />
<br />
“I can smell the child.” He whispered so quietly she felt his lips forming the words against her skin more than heard them. “Maybe fifteen or twenty meters ahead. Fear but no blood.”<br />
<br />
She squeezed his hand, letting him know she got the message. Slowly they crept closer. Cal tried to walk as silently as possible. She could hear something now, small ragged breaths and a high pitched sobbing. There was a break in the trees, a small clearing, bright after the pitch dark of the woods.. It was circled with small mushrooms that glowed silver in the moonlight. On the far edge was Matty, small and huddled with his tiny arms wrapped around his knees. <br />
<br />
The fairy circle was expected, they tended to crop up wherever something has come through from one of the other worlds. Cal couldn’t see the fairy. She could feel it close by, like a vibration inside her head. A little bee buzzing around. It was the same feeling she’d had that night against the banshee, the feeling of something that was out of place in this world. Where was it? She needed to be able to see it in order to use the spell to send it home. If she had to force it to show itself too that would reveal her location and then she wouldn’t have much time to finish the spell. There was nothing she could do about that now.<br />
<br />
Lucas had already left her side, following the plan they had discussed on the drive up—when he wasn’t complaining. When the spell started he needed to be close enough to Matty to get in between the toddler and the fairy. If not then it could pull him along across the Veil when Cal cast the banishment spell.<br />
<br />
Working as quickly as she could without making noise, she pulled what she needed from her bag. This would both send the fairy back and bar it’s return, assuming it worked in time. She knelt in the mouldering remains of the previous autumn’s leaves—wet, slimy, and smelling of the new soil they were becoming—and made her preparations. A plain wooden bowl set in front of her knees filled with a piece of sourdough bread she’d grabbed from the kitchen on the way out the door. Cal quickly unbuttoned her shirt and shrugged it off, leaving her upper body bare. Next came an ointment, a recipe of her grandfather’s, it was oily and smelled of rosemary and something bitter. She started the breathing pattern that would bring the spell into focus. First dipping her fingers into the ointment she drew the symbols for the banishment spell across her chest, right over her heart.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4EEaRaACbRA/UYyWnRH6FUI/AAAAAAAACDg/zY3TYpgT7HE/s1600/Hand02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4EEaRaACbRA/UYyWnRH6FUI/AAAAAAAACDg/zY3TYpgT7HE/s320/Hand02.jpg" width="288" /></a></div>Preparations over she picked up the delicate stiletto. Long and thin with a silver hilt, beautiful and razor sharp. Cal preferred her scalpels but this was one of those spells with special requirements and she’d yet to find a pure silver scalpel handle. She had to admit though that it was a lovely blade, a gift from Lucas shortly after they met.<br />
<br />
Cal dragged the tip of the knife across the glyphs drawn on her chest, letting the pain wash over her. The ointment added an extra layer of stinging pain, like alcohol had been poured into the wound. Then a cut across each palm. As the blood flowed she could feel the magic welling up inside her.<br />
<br />
So focused on the spell, the mix of endorphins and magic flowing through her body, that she didn’t notice the appearance of the fairy. A high, frightened, cry brought her awareness back. Looking up she saw Lucas standing in the middle of the circle. Behind him lay Matty’s small form, now quiet, Cal wasn’t sure whether he had fainted or Lucas had put him under. She hoped the latter. In front of him stood a vaguely humanoid creature. Tall, thin, glowing blue, and frighteningly beautiful. <br />
<br />
<hr /><br />
<i>If you've never been to New England in the spring this is what peepers sound like. It's one of the most ubiquitous sounds of spring here and one I look forward to every year. The funny thing is that it is really tiny frogs making that sound, they're less than an inch long. </i><br />
<center><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="135" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/EgPNzvr_LK8" width="240"></iframe></center><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://tentacle-pen.blogspot.com/2013/06/the-blue-lady-part-v.html" target="_blank">Part </a><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://tentacle-pen.blogspot.com/2013/06/the-blue-lady-part-v.html" target="_blank">V</a> -- <a href="http://tentacle-pen.blogspot.com/2013/06/the-blue-lady-part-vii.html" target="_blank">Part <span style="font-size: large;">V</span>II</a></span></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08386369227077404895noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513766046525760845.post-14429629804862883052013-06-03T20:00:00.000-04:002013-10-25T13:28:12.853-04:00The Blue Lady - Part V<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://tentacle-pen.blogspot.com/2013/05/the-blue-lady-part-iv.html" target="_blank">Part IV</a> -- <a href="http://tentacle-pen.blogspot.com/2013/06/the-blue-lady-part-vi.html" target="_blank">Part VI</a></span><br />
<hr /><br />
Jill let out a scream of surprise. The small explosion had sent glass dust over the table and both women. Cal just stared at the hole in the map.<br />
<br />
“What the hell was that?” Lucas’ asked from the doorway. He was clad in only his sleep shorts, his hair is disarray. <br />
<br />
“I don’t know but it’s not good.” Cal was surprised her voice was so calm.<br />
<br />
“Clearly. That much was obvious when I woke to an explosion. Are you alright?”<br />
<br />
Call nodded. Lucas grabbed her still bleeding hand and brought it to his mouth. <a name='more'></a><br />
<br />
“Do you have to do that in front of me?” Jill had never seen Lucas drink blood directly, only glasses of animal blood. She found it incredibly disgusting.<br />
<br />
“Yes.” He stated, holding up Cal’s now fully healed palm for her to see.<br />
<br />
“Cool trick.” It was still disgusting but the healing was impressive. No wonder Cal liked to have him around for spell casting if he could do that.<br />
<br />
Lucas rolled his eyes, he and Jill tolerated each other but Cal had given up on them ever being friends.<br />
<br />
“Is there anything else you can tell us about the disappearance?” Cal asked “Any small thing the family saw or heard that seemed odd.”<br />
<br />
“Disappearance?” Cal filled Lucas in as briefly as she could.<br />
<br />
Jill shook her head. “Not really. The sister, Abbie, said she heard music during the night. Probably from one of the other camps.”<br />
<br />
There was something familiar about that. Then it clicked and Cal hoped she was wrong.<br />
<br />
“Did it sound like a flute?”<br />
<br />
“Yeah, she called it ‘pretty whistling.’”<br />
<br />
“Bloody hell.” Lucas cursed<br />
<br />
“Bad?” Jill asked.<br />
<br />
“Fairies sometimes lure kids away with music. Flutes. They usually leave a changeling though.” Cal answered. Whatever had kept the fairy from making the changeling she was glad of it, the parents would never have known their child was missing and in a few months the magic animating the changeling would fail and it would seem to die. <br />
<br />
“Wait. Fairies are real?”<br />
<br />
“You’re surprised by that?” Lucas asked. “You already know that magic is real and that I am.”<br />
<br />
“But Callie is human and you used to be”<br />
<br />
“Well they exist, though most don’t venture into our world.” Lucas explained.<br />
<br />
“Our world?”<br />
<br />
“Cal, haven’t you taught her anything?”<br />
<br />
“That enough Lucas.” Cal snapped, their bickering was more than she could handle right then. “Go get dressed.”<br />
<br />
Jill glared after him as he left. “I almost miss when he was manipulating me, he at least pretended to be nice.”<br />
<br />
“If it makes you feel better, the fact he doesn’t means he has some respect for you.”<br />
<br />
“I’m not sure that it does.” Jill changed the subject. ”Why would a fairy take a little kid?”<br />
<br />
“Honestly, I have no idea why they do it. Grampa’s had more experience with fairies and I’m not sure he knows either.”<br />
<br />
“So what are we going to do to find Matty?”<br />
<br />
“I need you to go over to Grandpa’s and fill him in. Get him to drive with you up to his fishing cabin, its right on the lake. We’ll bring Matty to you when we find him.”<br />
<br />
“Getting me out of the way?” Jill knew this was out of her depth, she was a cop not a mage. Fairies were not in her job description.<br />
<br />
“Yes, but this is still important. Matty might be in bad shape when we find him. Fairies don't think the way we do, feeding him or keeping him warm just wouldn't occur to it." Cal explained, grateful for Jill's lack of a hero complex. Her own was enough to deal with. "Get the cabin ready and make sure it looks like you were staying there to help with the search."<br />
<br />
"I understand."<br />
<br />
"I'll give you a call on your cell when we have him. Don't try to call me, I don't want it going off at the wrong time."<br />
<br />
"What if something happens to you?"<br />
<br />
"That's why you need to take my grandfather with you, if anything does he'll know what to do."<br />
<br />
Jill didn't look satisfied by that answer but she agreed to do what Cal asked and left to drive the couple miles to Cal’s grandfather Erasmus’ home<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">.</span><br />
<br />
<div><hr /><div dir="ltr" id="docs-internal-guid--ae55ddc-6c4e-818c-63e6-10f3d9ced356" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Lucas sat on the edge of their bed while Cal dressed for the night’s work—a pair of soft old jeans and warm gray flannel shirt. She half crawled under the bed to retrieve her hiking boots.</span></div><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">“Are you sure this fairy hasn’t already taken the child across the Veil?” </span></div><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">“If it had I would have found nothing with the spell. It can take days for a weak spot to be thin enough to punch back through but they’re unpredictable.” Cal wiggled out from under the bed, boots in hand. “Wish I wasn’t going in so blind, fairy magic is weaker on this side but still…”</span></div><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">“We should hurry then.” The vampire sounded impatient. It wasn’t out of any concern for the little boy she knew. He enjoyed danger a bit too much, sometimes it scared her how much. He pulled an elegant swept hilt rapier from the closet. “Maybe I’ll get to use it?”</span></div><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">“I hope not, I’d rather avoid any real fighting. Could you grab my blue bag while you’re there.”</span></div><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">“I thought you didn’t want a fight?”</span></div><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">“It’s not the weapons I need.”</span></div><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">He handed her the small duffel bag, she made a quick check that everything was still in it. Satisfied with the contents she slung it over her shoulder.</span></div><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">“Let’s go.”</span></div><hr /><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://tentacle-pen.blogspot.com/2013/05/the-blue-lady-part-iv.html" target="_blank">Part I</a><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://tentacle-pen.blogspot.com/2013/05/the-blue-lady-part-iv.html" target="_blank">V</a> -- <a href="http://tentacle-pen.blogspot.com/2013/06/the-blue-lady-part-vi.html" target="_blank">Part <span style="font-size: large;">V</span>I</a></span></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08386369227077404895noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513766046525760845.post-12478035736680756632013-05-27T20:00:00.000-04:002013-10-25T13:28:27.532-04:00The Blue Lady - Part IV<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://tentacle-pen.blogspot.com/2013/05/the-blue-lady-part-iii.html" target="_blank">Part III</a> -- <a href="http://tentacle-pen.blogspot.com/2013/06/the-blue-lady-part-v.html" target="_blank">Part V </a></span><br />
<hr /><br />
Loud banging pulled Cal from her sleep. It took her a minute to realize it was someone knocking on the basement door. Only a few people other than Cal and Lucas had keys to the house, and none of them would let themselves in if it wasn’t important.<br />
<br />
“What is it?”<br />
<br />
“I need your help Callie.” Jill’s voice sounded strained.<br />
<br />
Cal grabbed her bathrobe from the floor and threw it on. It was just past four in the afternoon according to the clock next to the bed. That explained why Lucas didn’t wake up, it was hard to rouse him during the day. Opening the door she was greeted by Jill’s round, bright red, face. Her shoulder length blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she still wire her state police uniform.<a name='more'></a><br />
<br />
“You look like a lobster.”<br />
<br />
“I know. I was outside all day and didn’t have any sunscreen.”<br />
<br />
“Ouch” It really did look painful, Cal was happy she didn’t burn easily.<br />
<br />
“Yeah. Actually that’s part of why I need your help.”<br />
<br />
“I can’t kiss it and make it better.”<br />
<br />
“Funny. I’ve been working a search all day, a four year old boy.”<br />
<br />
“Oh shit. You want me to find him?” She already knew the answer of course.<br />
<br />
Jill nodded anyway. They had known each other since fifth grade and had almost immediately become best friends. They had briefly dated in high school. Now as adults they were as close as sisters and considered each other family. Jill had long ago accepted the magic and sometimes asked her for her, very unofficial, help on police cases.<br />
<br />
“You have something of his right?”<br />
<br />
“Of course.” Jill said holding up a plastic bag containing a tiny white sock.<br />
<br />
“So what happened?”<br />
<br />
Jill explained how Jessica and Daniel Kelly had taken their two children camping near Sebago Lake the day before. It was school vacation week and the weather had been beautiful and warm for April. Sometime during the night four-year-old Matty had left the tent, when the family awoke in the morning he was gone. His parents had searched around the campground for an hour before calling police, they had been searching since.<br />
<br />
They had walked to the work room while Jill recited the story. Her workroom had originally been a large bedroom that she had filled with just about everything she needed as a mage. The walls were lined with crowded bookshelves full of not just books but also jars of ingredients, candles, magical tools, a human skull, and one large grumpy looking cat. Cal ordered Ghost out of the room before starting to gather up the supplies she needed from the shelves.<br />
<br />
Finding a person was a little more difficult than finding a lost bracelet but the theory is the same. Concentration, the finding glyph as a focus, and the always present blood. Not every mage evokes their magic in the same way, it’s an inborn ability that can present in a number of ways. For Cal’s grandfather it was a physical force, it could leave his tired and sore in muscles that never actually moved. For her mother and grandmother it was emotional energy, each spell pulled feelings from them. No one in the family had been a Blood Mage in many generations. It’s an obvious focus for magic but one rarely seen in those who are not of the Darkness. Cal didn’t consider herself wholly of the Light either, more in the soft fuzzy gray in between, but she tried to do the right thing and help others. <br />
<br />
“Could you grab the map of Cumberland County? It’s on the shelf over there by the big red dictionary.” She pointed at the middle bookcase.<br />
<br />
She started laying out what she needed on the work table once Jill had fetched the map. She’d pulled alcohol wipes, gauze, and a disposable scalpel from the box she had nicknamed the ‘sharp and pointy kit’. She preferred using medical equipment for drawing blood whenever possible, she didn’t see the point in risking infection or using a ritual blade when it wasn’t necessary for the spell. Cal just needed one more thing, an object to fill with magic to guide her to the right spot on the map. Looking through a box of odds and ends she settled on an ordinary glass marble, small and easy to roll around the map, and placed it on the map in the middle of the lake.<br />
<br />
“No one is going to miss that sock right?”<br />
<br />
“Nah, kids lose socks all the time. I know how you work, it won’t be fit to return.”<br />
<br />
“Thanks.”<br />
<br />
Deep breaths to focus her mind. Finding a person over such a large area would take more than a couple drops of blood, magic always has it’s price. Not a large one still but more than finding where an object had been in a room. Cupping her left hand to catch the blood she sliced into the ball of her thumb. She waited for a small pool to form in her cupped hand, just a teaspoon or two of blood. Dipping a finger into the blood she drew a wet red circle on the map around the marble. More blood was dribbled more over the small child’s sock staining it scarlet. Finally she touched the finding glyph on her arm triggering the spell.<br />
<br />
Cal felt the spell beginning to seek out Matty. Slowly the marble began to roll, spiraling outwards in a search pattern across the map. The family had been at a campground next to the lake so it was the logical place to start. Please don’t stop over the water.<br />
<br />
As the marble kept moving the feeling changed. It felt wrong inside Cal’s head, like something was pushing against the spell. The spell had already locked on to Matty’s location, all she had to do was keep it going. The marble slowed it’s search pattern, coming to a rest at a spot deep in the woods. It exploded.<br />
<br />
<hr /><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://tentacle-pen.blogspot.com/2013/05/the-blue-lady-part-iii.html" target="_blank">Part I</a><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://tentacle-pen.blogspot.com/2013/05/the-blue-lady-part-iii.html" target="_blank">II</a> -- <a href="http://tentacle-pen.blogspot.com/2013/06/the-blue-lady-part-v.html" target="_blank">Part V</a></span></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08386369227077404895noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513766046525760845.post-64075109839163612292013-05-20T20:00:00.000-04:002013-10-25T13:28:35.918-04:00The Blue Lady - Part III<span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://tentacle-pen.blogspot.com/2013/05/the-blue-lady-part-ii.html" target="_blank">Part II</a> -- <a href="http://tentacle-pen.blogspot.com/2013/05/the-blue-lady-part-iv.html" target="_blank">Part IV</a></span><br />
<hr /><br />
Cal jerked awake in a cold sweat. She had fallen asleep curled up on the couch with her head in Lucas’ lap. Tears ran down her face and she was still shaking. Lucas ran his fingers through her hair to comfort her, he didn’t need to ask what the nightmare had been. <br />
<br />
“You didn’t scream this time.” His voice was soft.<br />
<br />
Cal nodded, at least that was progress she supposed. Lucas tried to give her what support he could over the past six months. He didn’t really understand what she was going through or how she felt. He hadn’t been human in so long he didn’t feel things the same way and he no longer dreamt. <br />
<br />
The nightmares were a regular occurrence. The memories of the banshee replayed in her mind nearly every time she slept. It had driven home how dangerous the work she did for the Guardians could be. She’d see the battle with the banshee, the pieces that had once been the three teenagers it had killed, Lucas’ chest in ribbons as he collapsed onto the ground, the look on his face at the hospital as they gave her blood transfusions. It hadn’t really been his fault he’d taken too much that night and almost killed her. Neither of them had realized just how much blood she had already lost to the magic.<a name='more'></a><br />
<br />
“What time is it?”<br />
<br />
“Just past eleven, you only slept about half an hour. I downloaded the latest Doctor Who episode after you fell asleep, I’ll queue it up for us.”<br />
<br />
Cal smiled up at him, he may not understand how she felt but he did know how to take her mind off things. She settled back into his lap and let the Doctor chase away memories of the mangled bodies of two teenagers and the banshee’s wail. It would only be temporary of course. but she’d take it for now. <br />
<hr /><br />
<i>Short part this week, that's just where it felt right to put in the break. Things really start to get interesting next week. </i><br />
<br />
<i>Yes, Cal is a huge geek and loves Doctor Who. I can't help it.</i><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://tentacle-pen.blogspot.com/2013/05/the-blue-lady-part-ii.html" target="_blank">Part I</a><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://tentacle-pen.blogspot.com/2013/05/the-blue-lady-part-ii.html" target="_blank">I</a> -- <a href="http://tentacle-pen.blogspot.com/2013/05/the-blue-lady-part-iv.html" target="_blank">Part I<span style="font-size: large;">V</span></a></span></span><i> </i>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08386369227077404895noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513766046525760845.post-31963528250058443422013-05-13T20:00:00.000-04:002013-10-25T13:28:44.890-04:00The Blue Lady - Part II<span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://tentacle-pen.blogspot.com/2013/05/the-blue-lady-part-i.html">Part I</a> -- <a href="http://tentacle-pen.blogspot.com/2013/05/the-blue-lady-part-iii.html" target="">Part III</a></span><br />
<hr /><br />
He was stretched out on the king size bed in the large basement room they’d converted into their bedroom. All cool darks and lights, pale skin and dark brown hair, against the deep red comforter. Lucas was a couple inches taller than Cal, thin almost to the point of bony. She have described him as willowy if he didn’t exude such a sense of strength, not surprising considering the fact she’s seen him throw a guy twice his size a good thirty feet. Cal always thought he looked different when he slept though, even with the complete stillness he looked more human to her. It oddly felt wrong to think of his like that, he was far from human and she wouldn’t want that to change.<br />
<br />
Sitting next to his motionless body Cal ran her wounded fingertip across his lips. He didn’t open his eyes or make any move other than smiling and gently lick the trace of blood away with his pale pink tongue. Cal pulled her hand away and replaced it with her own lips.<a name='more'></a><br />
<br />
“Mmm... I like waking up like that. You always taste lovely.” His rich English baritone was practically a purr. He looked up at her with pale gray eyes. “How long have you been up?”<br />
<br />
“A few hours. I just finished a finding spell from Emily MacTire. One of her students has sticky fingers.”<br />
<br />
Lucas was stroking her neck. <i>No subtlety at all tonight. </i>Cal thought, closing her eyes for a moment. Her neck was a weakness of hers and he knew it. The vampire started laying soft kisses along her throat, when she felt him lick over the pulse in her neck she pulled back.<br />
<br />
“Emily also brought over some fresh lamb’s blood for you.” Cal bent down to the mini fridge next to the bed and pulled out a pint jar of blood.<br />
<br />
“Tease.” He whispered.<br />
<br />
“Yep, now drink your blood.” He scowled but took the jar from her anyway. She really did enjoy tormenting him like that. <br />
<br />
Animal blood isn’t a perfect substitute for human but it still has power. Vampires don’t drink blood for the nutritional value, if that was all that it was they’d never take the risk of acquiring human blood at all. There is power in blood, in life, in emotions and it’s this power that sustains them. Animal blood doesn’t have nearly the power that human blood has. It’s the difference between eating proper balanced meals and ramen every day, both keep you alive but only one is healthy diet.<br />
<br />
Lucas sat on the edge of the bed and drained the jar in a few big gulps, an expression of mild distaste on his face. Blood doesn’t reheat well and he much preferred it warm or at least room temperature. It was too soon to feed from Cal again, he just enjoyed the reaction he got from her as much as she enjoyed teasing him. <br />
<br />
There had been a time in their relationship that he would have pushed her a bit but that had changed six months ago after the banshee. Since then he’d been far more cautious, drinking more animal blood and occasionally feeding on humans other than Cal. She knew of course but wouldn’t ask questions. He didn’t take enough to hurt anyone, he doesn’t need that much, not much more than a donation to the Red Cross. Even if he didn’t know it would end their relationship—or worse—as he’d put it once ‘leaving bodies lying around attracts the wrong kind of attention’. Enjoying danger and having a death wish are very different things.<br />
<br />
Lucas shifted on the bed to sit behind he. Cal could smell the lambs blood, cold and coppery, as he leaned close to wrap his arms around her and softly nuzzled her neck. Even after two years together the smell of blood on her lover’s breath was disconcerting, the taste of it in his kiss even more so. Blood in general didn’t bother her, she was a blood mage after all and used her own in spells all the time. She even enjoyed being fed from. It didn’t make sense that she had this reaction to it still but she did. At least it was only animal blood, early in their relationship she’d had to insist he not kiss her after drinking human blood, Cal’s own excepted, after he’s done exactly that. Nearly three hundred year old vampires don’t always understand concepts like blood born diseases or boundaries.<br />
<br />
Cal squirmed out of his arms. “I should get something to eat too.”<br />
<br />
Escaping his embrace she bounced upstairs. Lucas followed after a minute, now dressed in a t-shirt and soft faded jeans. He flopped down on the couch and opened up his laptop to check his email while Cal rummaged around in the kitchen. She settled on making a ham sandwich and joined him on the couch.<br />
<br />
<hr /><i>I hope you enjoyed Part II. If you want to subscribe to just story updates <a href="http://tentacle-pen.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default/-/The%20Blue%20Lady">here's the RSS feed</a>.</i><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://tentacle-pen.blogspot.com/2013/05/the-blue-lady-part-i.html">Part I</a><span style="font-size: large;"> -- <a href="http://tentacle-pen.blogspot.com/2013/05/the-blue-lady-part-iii.html" target="">Part III</a></span></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08386369227077404895noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513766046525760845.post-52700153935266548302013-05-07T20:24:00.000-04:002013-05-12T07:20:57.603-04:00The Blue Lady on Kindle<div style="float: right; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5x;">
<iframe frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?lt1=_blank&bc1=000000&IS2=1&bg1=FFFFFF&fc1=000000&lc1=0000FF&t=nosarbl-20&o=1&p=8&l=as4&m=amazon&f=ifr&ref=ss_til&asins=B00COCI356" style="height: 240px; width: 120px;"></iframe></div>
If you are impatient and don't want to wait for a new part each week you can get all of <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00COCI356/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=B00COCI356&linkCode=as2&tag=nosarbl-20" target="_blank">The Blue Lady for Kindle</a>. I'm not trying to make lots of money off this so it's just $0.99 from Amazon.<br />
<br />
<i>Edit: I've also put it up on <a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/315062" target="_blank">Smashwords</a> so you can get it in more formats.</i>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08386369227077404895noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513766046525760845.post-33597801828001554842013-05-06T20:02:00.000-04:002013-10-25T13:28:55.560-04:00The Blue Lady - Part I<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://tentacle-pen.blogspot.com/2013/05/the-blue-lady-introduction.html">Introduction</a> -- <a href="http://tentacle-pen.blogspot.com/2013/05/the-blue-lady-part-ii.html" target="_blank">Part II</a></span> </span><br />
<hr /><br />
Pale swirling lines wound their way across light bronze skin, even more noticeable than they had been just a few weeks earlier. It was only April but Calliope Bránán already had the start of the tan that would darken into a deep golden brown later in the summer. Most people assumed the subtle patterns were simply body art but the scars were much more than that, they were spell glyphs. She had dozens of them carved into her arms. A shortcut for her magic. Her blood pressed onto the right combination of symbols while focusing on the spell would cast it. She had turned her body into a spellbook over the years. There were of course spells that were too complex or rarely used to make it onto her arms but everything she used most was there.<br />
<br />
The spell she was preparing for today was one she used frequently. In fact it was one of the first she had ever learned and the very first she had thought to add permanently to her body: a finding spell. <a name='more'></a><br />
<br />
She finger combed her unruly auburn curls away from her face and pinned them in place with a couple barrettes, not bothering with a mirror, she just needed to keep her hair out of her eyes. It was nearly time for another haircut, she decided. Cal liked keeping her hair short for practicality and it rather suited her strong features. No one would call her conventionally beautiful but she made an impression. She was tall, just over five feet ten inches, with the lean muscular build of a swimmer. Her strong, angular face was softened by her large, round, amber eyes and a sense of humor that made her quick to smile or laugh. As usual when at home she was barefoot, wearing a black t-shirt and jeans. Her magic could be messy and black didn’t show bloodstains as readily.<br />
<br />
Emily MacTire had asked for her help locating a bracelet one of her students had stolen from her desk. Normally this wasn’t the type of thing she’d cast a spell for but she did owe Emily a small favor and the werewolf had given her a jar of honey from her family’s apiary. Organic farming isn’t what most people picture werewolves doing, even those who know they exist, but the MacTire’s had one of the oldest and most successful farms in the area.<br />
<br />
Emily was a pleasant woman in her mid-forties with ashy brown hair and dark sparkling eyes, she was also an excellent fourth grade teacher. While she was attached to the bracelet, it had been a gift from her sister, she was more concerned about the student who had taken it. It wasn’t the first thing that had gone missing in the classroom over the last month. It worried her, sudden acting out like this always did, and she wanted to find out so she could help.<br />
<br />
Cal laid out the supplies she needed on the large oak desk she used as her work table—alcohol wipes, a half-inch hypodermic needle, gauze pads, a couple strands of Emily’s hair, a photo of her wearing the pretty silver and agate bracelet at her sister’s wedding, and a diagram of the classroom. Normally Lucas helped with her spells but this was such a quick simple spell that she didn’t see the need to wait for him to wake up. It did make preparations slightly more awkward but she had been doing this long before he was part of her life.<br />
<br />
Starting with the alcohol Cal swabbed her left index finger then carefully opened the needle package without using the disinfected digit. Holding the needle in her right hand she quickly jabbed it into the tip of her finger and immediately dropped it into the sharps container she kept next to the desk. Her practiced motions precise enough that she barely felt a thing. A bright drop of blood welled up on her fingertip. She focused on the image of the bracelet in the photograph and let a drop fall onto the strands of hair then pressed her finger to the small glyph on the inside of her left arm tinting the white mark red. The hair began to slowly move as the spell began to take effect. It left a thin crimson line as it slid like a tiny snake across the sheet of paper Emily had drawn the classroom diagram on. After a few moments it circled a desk labeled ‘Annie S.’ and came to rest. The entire spell had taken less than two minute.<br />
<br />
Holding a gauze pad to her finger, she dialed up Emily to give her the results.<br />
<br />
“Really?” Her surprise was clear even over the phone. “Annie’s never in trouble, she’s my bookworm.”<br />
<br />
“Yeah, unless another kid was sitting at her desk that day. The spell just tells me where the bracelet has been, not who took it.”<br />
<br />
“No, they all sit in assigned seats every day. I guess I’d better call her parents in for a conference. Thanks Cal.”<br />
<br />
“No problem, thanks for the honey.”<br />
<br />
Cal tidied up her workspace after hanging up. She set the photo aside to return next time she saw Emily and tossed the rest in the trash. It was starting to get darker in the workroom as the sun set. She quietly padded downstairs on bare feet to wake Lucas.<br />
<br />
<hr /><br />
<i>So that is Part I, I hope you enjoyed it. Please share and enjoy. Next part will be posting next Wednesday, May 15, at 8pm EDT. </i><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://tentacle-pen.blogspot.com/2013/05/the-blue-lady-introduction.html">Introduction</a> -- <a href="http://tentacle-pen.blogspot.com/2013/05/the-blue-lady-part-ii.html" target="_blank">Part II</a> </span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08386369227077404895noreply@blogger.com0