Saturday, August 12, 2017

Illustration & Story Snippet: A Heated Debate

A shorter scene but still a good one. This comes from Book Three: An Angel Falls

I heard two bickering voices. I knew both Voices all too well and they were bickering about me.

Great. Just flipping fantastic. I thought to myself as I walked toward the newly painted lounge. I threw open the door and there they were. I'd been looking all over for them and they were here in the lounge arguing about something they could not control.

"Guys," I calmly tried to get their attention. Neither one acknowledged me.

"You can't even keep an eye on her for ten days?!" Beryx voiced and I crossed my arms over my chest.

"She was going with her sister and the girls. I didn't know where they were going and I had Erica watching her," Michael offered. I slowly counted to ten in my head, trying not to blow up at them and add to the volume.

"Michael, I asked you to watch her for a reason. No one else knows her like you do," Beryx clarified, calming down.

"I can't be with her all the time. I have other duties," Michael shot back, his aura coloring with bright red rage. That was my cue. I augmented my speed and burst between them ready for a fight.



"Stop this! The both of you," I shouted and they stared down at me for a moment. I turned to Beryx, "I don't need to be watched. I can take care of myself." I turned my glare to Michael, "Why are you even arguing this? You know better than anyone that I can take care of myself." They looked from me to each other and I counted to ten again, waiting for some cutting response.

"Kalista, your track record as of late says otherwise," Beryx spoke first and I whirled my head to him. Anger burned my chest and my incisors elongated. My Angelic form had decided enough was enough.


"He's right," Michael added and my fingernails lengthened into near talons. I balled my hands into fists and growled.







"THAT IS ENOUGH!" I shouted and the building shook. I loosened my fingers and felt blood on my fingernails.

Just great, now I can add "self-harm" to my list of issues. I internally growled as I walked toward the first-aid kit on the wall. They watched me go but neither one said a word. The door creaked open and I turned to see Director Angelic's blonde head of hair in the door.

"Miss Angelic, my office. Now," he instructed as I grabbed a roll of gauze and the medical tape. I shut the door on the kit and walked out. Not bothering to say another word to the boys.

(Editing Update: I'm currently on page 82, which is almost halfway through book One, yay!)

Sunday, August 6, 2017

What Writers Do: Hardcore Edit

Lock the doors, clear your schedule, and be ready to scrutinize your manuscript with the eye of an editor. The Hardcore edit is the most brutal of all edits. It takes days if not weeks and requires you to check over your first draft with a white glove and a fine tooth comb.

The Hardcore edit happens after you've finished the first draft of your manuscript and have left it alone for 1-6 months. You brush it off, print it out and grab a red pen. Yes, a red pen. I also suggest using a 1' margin on all sides and a 1.5 line spacing so that there is room to jot down any changes that need to be made.

"But Jenny, my manuscript is perfect," you say and I roll my eyes. No, nothing is perfect the first time around. If you try to publish your first draft, be prepared for MAJOR and PAINFUL rejections (though you should probably be prepared for those anyhow).

"But Jenny, I have spell and grammar check. Why would I need to edit it?" Because it misses things, not to mention you are putting your writing style and your story at risk. Not doing a hardcore edit can severely damage the chances of your book being published.

The hardcore edit is a must, especially for those that have been strictly relying on programs like MS Office or Grammarly to help with their book. In my personal experience, those programs don't catch everything and they can even hurt your writing style, along with the missed words or wrong words that are skipped over.

Trust me, printing it out and reading through it is eye-opening. I have done this with one other F.D. and I love the way it turned out. Printing it out and having it in my hands also gave me a small burst of happiness too, because it was no longer just on the computer. Somehow, printing it makes it more "real."

During the hardcore edit, nothing is exempt from getting scrapped. Full sentences are deleted, changed and/or rewritten, or added (if not full scenes). Something isn't cohesive? Scrap it! One character would NEVER say that? Rewrite it! Oh, wait that wasn't the word that was supposed to go there!?! (thank you auto-wreck). Fix it! Wait, this scene doesn't contribute to the plot or character growth in any way. Scrap it! NOTHING IS EXEMPT.

Having said that. I'm 54 pages into editing the manuscript for book one and not one page is clean of red marks. I have 122 pages left in book one plus 302 pages in book II. This will be my main focus over the next few weeks. I will be taking my manuscript with me wherever I go (If I go anywhere) and editing when I have a free minute.

Due to this, everything else (besides one big life event I'm working on), is going to be put on hold... And blogs may be later than usual. (Looks at calendar) Yeah, this one is the latest I think I've ever posted one. So, Please be patient with me as I have now covered a quarter of my printed work in red ink and have three more quarters to go... Yay!(unenthusistic).

Go Be Awesome! (looks at time) Or Go to Bed!
-Jenny



Saturday, July 29, 2017

Illustration and Story Snippet: An Angel Falls

Announcement: I finished the first draft of A Broken Redeemer this week!!! I'm so excited. This next week I'm going to print it and A Born Angel so that I can hardcore edit them but, in the meantime, I'm working on the outline of Book III: An Angel Falls. So, this scene comes from it. Enjoy!

- The Dream Sequence -




I stood in the middle of a rickety pier and looked back at the buildings engulfed in purple flames. I didn't remember what made me burn them but I knew I had done it. I'd started that fire. No natural fire burned that hue of purple. It was my fire, the fire that matched the glow of my telekinetic power. What happened?

"Kalista, it's alright," A chilling voice called from behind me. I whirled around, heartbeat racing, and the pier shifted. There was a man... No, a fallen angel standing at the end of the pier. His gray hair was the color of ash, his blue eyes glowed green around the edges, and his face looked so familiar. The hair on the back of my neck bristled and I manifested a spire of fire in my left hand. He took a step back with both hands up like metaphorical white flags.

"Kalista, I'm not here to hurt you," he stated coolly, through the panic I saw coloring his aura a bright orange. A metallic taste coated my mouth and I scrunched my nose at the smell of rotting flesh, which warned me that he'd lied. I snarled at the angel and sweat beaded on his upper lip. "We can talk about this."

"No, we can't. Get away from me or I swear that I'll..."

"You'll set me on fire? Come now, we both know that didn't work last time," He interrupted me taking another step back. One more step and he'd fall into the lake. My eyes drifted to what I thought was water but the thick red liquid danced in the flickering firelight. That wasn't water. My eyes shot back to his face and my fire shrunk down to an inch in my palm.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, paling at the thought of hurting someone with my fire, even someone evil.

"You don't remember." He let out a nervous laugh and a shiver ran down my arms. My fire grew, warming my suddenly cold limbs. "I wondered why you didn't attack me on sight..."

"Should I have?" I growled manifesting another spire of fire in my right hand and I took a step toward him. Wings sprouted from his back and he flew backward, over the lake. My spires grew until they were taller than me and I glared up at him.

"Kalista, calm down. Come with me and I'll tell you what you want to know," he sincerely offered, holding one hand out to me. I vaguely recalled him saying this to me before and it intrigued me. I didn't remember the woman and the angel who said they were my parents. Why do I remember this Angel? "Because I was the last person you spoke to before you passed out and the ritual took full effect," he answered the thought and I threw one of the spires at him. He dodged and disappeared as another voice called to me from the smoke in the distance.

"Miss Angelic, you need to wake up sweetie. I brought you breakfast," A sweet female voice spoke. I closed my eyes and when I opened them again she was there. The woman who claimed to be my mother. Her loose dark brown curls were swept behind her shoulders, showing off her elegant facial structure, and her sapphire eyes. If she really was my mother, why didn't I recognize her?

Saturday, July 22, 2017

Illustration and Story Snippet: The Aftermath

**Warning** this is another one of those scenes that I cringe at and also one that makes me quote Bartok. "You're on your own, sir! This can only end in tears." (Anastasia 1997) With that, here you go.



There was a knock on the door and I had enough dignity left to shift into a pair of shorts that immediately soaked up the blood around my pelvis. I opened my mouth to speak but my sore vocal cords refused to vibrate. I managed to roll over and sit up, groaning at the pain it caused. I pulled my bruised and bloodied right knee up and the door creaked open.

I blinked to clear my hazy vision and found Aimee standing in the doorway wearing an expression somewhere between pity and apathy. She'd been subjected to this for most of her life because of that Monster. She shut the door and ambled over to me.

"You had to provoke him, didn't you?" She asked, crouching down in front of me assessing my injuries. she set her face to my chin and I cringed as she brushed a cut he'd made in my jaw with one long nail. "Maker's sake, there isn't a spot on you that he didn't touch, is there?"

I dropped my eyes to the stained concrete and tried to avoid the pools of red liquid in the placed that he'd pinned me down. She turned my head from one side to the gingerly touching my bruised and swollen right eye then rubbed her hands over the cuts on my left cheek.

"Let's see if you can stand and we can get you to your room," she offered, holding out her hands to me. I held both of my palm up, showing her the blood on them, and she nodded, "Got it. I'm gonna try to lift you up under one of your armpits. Is your left arm still broken?"
I shook my head and she stopped as her eyes caught sight of the mirrored wall behind me. She gasped and whirled around gagging.

It doesn't hurt as bad as you think, Aims. I'm still too numb for it to hurt too much. I telepathically offered as the wounds began to bleed again. She set her hand on my shoulder and we were suddenly in her bathroom at the house.

"I can't help you this time Kali. I-I'm sorry," she admitted before she ran out of the room gagging yet again. What did he do to my back? I painfully crawled over to the black marble corner tub and managed to lift myself up enough to half-fall half-roll into the tub.

I sucked in a gasp and laid against the cold marble. I could feel every single thing he'd done to me now. Moving was what caused the pain to set in and the drugs to wear off now that he wasn't using me. I shuddered and cried out in pain. I was right when I thought the healing was only so that he could inflict more pain. This was the worst pain I'd ever felt.


Saturday, July 15, 2017

Illustration and Chapter: A Life Interrupted.

(Another Longer Chapter today, but I wanted you to read the full scene)
"I'm going to flay that Demon,” I proclaimed. I left my phone with Aunt Rae and teleported to the steel cell where Uriel was being held. The energy that coursed through the floor flashed white for a moment as I slammed my hands down on the hard metal table. It cooled to blue as he relaxed and slowly looked up at me. He met my eyes and a knowing, seductive smirk pulled at the left corner of his lips. 

 "Hello again, Lover. You seem to be dealing with some anger issues lately," he quipped. Aunt Rae tried to follow me but I diverted her to outside the door. I needed to be alone with him. I glared back at my depraved Uncle and refused to blink. I stared at his gray blue eyes and saw a glow underneath but the cell wouldn’t allow his powers to surface. 
Where is Beryx?!?” I demanded. His smirk turned into a full-blown grin that the Joker would have been proud of. I clenched my hands into fists to keep from touching him and he sat straighter.  
"I wondered why you didn't ask about him before,” He stopped and his heated stare roved over my body, noting things of interest before he continued, “Is there trouble in paradise?" I took a deep breath and grabbed the collar of his blue dress shirt, pulling him toward me. The door rattled and I ignored it. 
“Answer the damn question, B’aktano Akram,” I growled into his face. He didn’t even flinch. I bared my teeth at him, incisors lengthening as my Angelic form rose to the surface and his lips returned to the one-sided smirk that I loathed. I tightened my grip on his collar and he held up his cuffed wrists. 
"He's a bit tied up right now,” he divulged and I snarled at attitude. I slammed his face down onto the metal table, holding his cheek to the cold metal and pressing down with all my strength as I walked around the table to stand behind him. 
“Wrong answer Uri,” I whispered in his ear. He blinked pupils dilating abnormally and he couldn’t look at me for more than a second. He was seeing stars and I smiled down at him. he grabbed the edge table with both hands, trying to get enough leverage to free himself. 
"I can't tell you if I'm passed out, Lover," he reminded me breathily. His nails scraped against the top of the table and I tossed my hair over my shoulders not bothering with his feeble attempts. 
“Then talk fast, Bastard,” I threatened, never removing my hand. I sensed Packana’s presence but not even that stopped me. I pressed down more and he feigned a hurt moan.  
“Now that hurt, Lover. You know my lineage." He groaned as his hands grabbed the edge of the table again, knuckles turning white. "He’s still in the city,” he relented. I removed my hand from his face, manifesting one of my silver knives and I grinned at the familiar blade.  
I’d gotten it and five others as a birthday present almost nine years ago and it protected me from a lot of perverts. Now it would help me torture the worst perverted homicidal maniac on the planet. He placed both hands flat on the table and I put my knife between the pinky and ring finger of his left hand.  
“Let’s see how willing you are after I remove a finger.” He stiffened and I moved the blade to the side of his face. Sweat beaded on his upper lip and I grinned, “or maybe an ear…” I pulled back scrapping some of his perfect beard off. His aura turned pink with desire and I stepped back. I pointed the knife at the center of his body and I forced a confident smile. “No, why not the family jewels first?”  
He jumped up tipping the chair over and it clattered to the floor with a metallic bell like clang. He stepped away from me with his hands up in surrender and my grin turned into a victorious smirk. Now we’re getting somewhere. 
"He's at my house. I'm surprised you didn’t search it thoroughly. I mean, I’ve been here a week already judging by your emaciated frame,” he paused to look at my body again and faked concern. “Still not able to keep anything down?"  
I pointed the knife at him and Aunt Rae telepathically spoke to me. He has more than one house in the City T’soulus. I nodded sensing her presence on the other side of the one-way glass. I opened my palm, levitating the knife an inch and turning it slowly in a circle above my palm. 
I'm not stupid Uncle Uri. Which house?” I questioned him. His eyes watched the knife twirl above my palm and He swallowed, wetting his suddenly dry mouth. He looked into my eyes knowing full well I’d castrate him if he didn’t tell me. It was a fit punishment for a serial killer like him.  
“It’s near Lyon's condo on the beach front. Close to the club district. It’s the same one you stormed in and captured me,” he snarled, gaining his courage. I smirked and the knife sailed across the room. His back hit the woven metal wall and the six-inch-long knife nearly grazed him. The knife embedded itself an inch below the crotch of his jeans and he opened his eyes.  
“You're lucky this time. Next time, I won’t miss,” I further harassed him. He looked down at the knife between his legs and his eyes sparkled with dreams of grandeur. He reached down to grab its hilt and I pulled one gun from its concealed holster under my leather coat. I cocked the gun and aimed at his head. 
“Now, now, Uri leave the knife alone,” I chided him like he had so many times during my Stay with him eight years ago. He stiffened with his fingers inches above the hilt of the knife. His eyes drifted up to mine and his mind tried to figure a way out of this. 
"Would you really kill me right now?" he inquired as the door to rattled again. I rolled my eyes and thought about my options. There were precious few and all of them relied heavily him being alive.  
I'd love to blow your brains out and color that steel wall a nice red but if you’re lying to me, I'll need to pull the right location from your mind. I can't do if you're dead,” I relented holstering the gun. I focused my powers on the knife and yanked it from the wall, letting it graze his palm on the way by. I turned away, taking a backward step toward the door, knowing I'd won this fight. If he tried to pounce now, I’d incapacitate him without a second thought.  
He growled and grabbed his right palm which was now coated in blood. The floor flashed from blue to red underneath me as he lunged like a caged tiger who'd been cooped up a bit too long. The door rattled even more and I spun around powers extended as I slid the knife back into the sheath on my arm. My telekinetic powers wrapped around him, suspending him in mid-air but he wasn’t done yet. 
Where did you learn this? Ariel can't do this. She lacks the ability. You are the most foolish woman I have ever met, Lover. I will have you and I'll make you suffer through it just like you did in Destiny Camp. 
A moment of pain and fire flashed in my mind, temporarily distracting me. My powers faltered and he took a step closer. I regained my focus. Blood trickled from my nose as I shoved the flashback down and I wiped the blood away with the back of my hand.  
“For your information, your wife did teach me this. Just because someone lacks the ability, doesn't mean they can't teach someone who does to use it.” He pushed against my hold and I tossed my hair over my shoulder with a flick of my head. You're outwitted and overpowered, Uriel. Why fight it? Give in to your fate,” I requited voice even and anger all but gone. I was now hellbent on bringing Beryx home and I wouldn't sleep until I did.  
Uriel growled in my mind trying to fight my power and I shook my head at the pathetic attempt. In this cell, his powers were useless. I had the upper hand and I wouldn’t let it go to waste.  
No! I won't bow to anyone! M’ NAGA EH DAGAS1! He shouted in Demoki but his lips never moved. I pulled the knife out again and pointed it at him. His eyes moved to it and his courageous façade fell. 
“Fate is the least of your worries. When I'm through with you, you'll beg for a hug from Death or a kiss from Caleigh to end your existence. At least they will be quick,” I taunted as his eyes drifted up my arm to the scar on my neck and then to my violet eyes.  
You can't torture me. It's inhumane. His thoughts countered. The right corner of my lips rose into a knowing smirk and I slowly shook my head at the conclusion his depraved mind had jumped to.  
“Now who's being naïve? Not all torture is physical,” I paused, letting that sink in. Physical torture had rocked his socks off but the mental torture was his bread and butter.  I moved the knife around in a circle, bringing his mind back to this shiny metal room with its metal furniture and took another step to the door.  
“Being here, in solitary confinement, is enough to torture someone like you,” I reminded him. I released his face from the effects of my power long enough to watch his jaw drop and his eyes bug out before he squinted at me, forehead wrinkling in contempt.  
"You're despicable. You learned a lot from me over the years,” he credited himself and I shook my head then smiled. I closed the gap between us, placing the knife in the v of his collarbone. It rested perfectly in that spot and he was too preoccupied with how close I was to move. 
“You didn’t teach me. You tortured me. My Packana taught me and you know what they say; Etu Packana, Etu Simakti2,” I whispered into his face before stepping away again. I sashayed over to the door and turned back to see his face drop again. “Enjoy your memories, Uncle Uriel. They’re all you have until I come back,” I taunted him as I set my hand to the mat on the side of the door. His anger roiled toward me but with his contained powers it didn’t do anything. 
"Kalista! Don't leave me in here! Et Dakata3!" He shouted at me in an attempt to spark my anger. I slid my knife back in my holster and the latch clicked. The door opened and Packana stood there in utter shock. I turned back to Uriel for one last taunt.  
“The only way to hurt a Sadomasochist and especially an algolagniac, like yourself, is to deprive them of pain and human contact,” I recited the psych book that I’d read in college. He fought harder to break my hold on him, sweat covering his face. I turned back to Packana with that grin still in place as my powers told me that Aunt Rae had left again.  
"You’re the devil's spawn! That's all you'll ever be!” Uriel countered unable to leave the last word to a woman like me. I was going to respond, but Packana beat me to it. 
And you're a sick B’aktano, who I’d personally like to fry,” he spouted as I stepped through the door. I shut it behind me and looked up at Packana’s crimson eyes.