Wednesday, March 29, 2017

Character Introduction II: Kalista Iduna Angelic Tragedy

“I hope he’s in a good mood or this may be a very short trip,” Remiel spoke to the fog that he summoned to surround the boat and keep their escape a secret. His short hair ruffled in the slightest of breezes and he teleported the boat to the opposite shore as his conscious nagged him for using the powers.He’d refused to when he left his family ages ago and every time he did, that voice nagged him.
Will you quit it? Just once won’t change my fate. He rebuked it and it fled. Anyway, it would have taken him all night to row to by hand. The fog lifted as He stood up and picked up the basket from the bottom of the small boat. A presence he hadn’t felt in years filled the air and caused it to buzz with power. 
“Greetings, Remiel. I knew you’d come back to us,” the sweet voice of his older sister called to him. He dropped his hood and turned to the slinky woman that didn’t look a day older than when he’d last seen her. Her ink black hair was still worn down, flowing free, like her spirit.  Her pale skin reflected the moonlight and a peplos was draped over her petite body. His eyes rested on her luminescent violet eyes as she held her hand out for his things. He handed her the basket and tied the boat to the dock.
“Hello, Kalista. I should have known you’d be the only one to greet me. Did you foresee the circumstances of my arrival?” he asked, implying her fault in the death of his wife. She stared at his gray-blue eyes before he looked away but it was enough for her powers to take her to the past. Her purple irises grew to encompass her entire eye and she gripped the basket in both fists.
Her face went slack and her eyes glazed over as she saw and felt the pain Danyella had endured. Remiel glanced up at her again and his heart dropped into his feet. He’d seen her do this before. She’d looked too deeply into his eyes and the memory of the last few hours was replaying in her mind. The only difference was that she could feel the pain Danyella suffered and her face contorted with it. 
He stepped out of the boat and barely kept from touching her. He stood hands clenching and unclenched, waiting for her to come back to the present. Her eyes returned to normal and filled with crystal clear tears that slowly fell down her cheeks before she could blink them back. She gazed up at her brother’s strong jaw and scared face before she set the basket down. She threw her arms around his muscular torso, sobbing into his shoulder before he could stop her. 
“I’m so sorry Remi… I thought… I saw a woman with you… in one of my visions… but I didn’t know… I’m so sorry,” she repeated in between sobs. He ran his hand through her thigh length black hair, trying to comfort her as best he could manage.
“It isn’t your fault Kita[1]. Uriel is growing bolder with every passing day. I need to talk with Lucifer and see if I can make him see reason. I can’t take care of the twins on my own and I want to avenge the blood of my Ki’Taoahmma. I won’t rest until Uriel’s blood has been spilled,” Remiel demanded as Ephraim began to cry. Kalista pulled back and turned to the basket with the twins as Ephraim quieted again. 
Remi looked around his sister and saw that Beryx had taken his brother’s hand and pulled his twin close. Kalista turned her glistening eyes back to her brother, her lips turned into a sad smile. Beryx had compassion and strength already even though he wasn’t even an hour old. She hoped the world wouldn’t stamp out his compassion and the kind soul she sensed in him.   
“Kalista, what is it about us that makes the world hate us? Why can’t they see our kindness?” he asked as she picked up the basket again stroking Beryx face with the barest of touches. She tucked it into the crook of her arm and manifested a cloak to hide them. She held out her other hand to him and he took it without question. She led him up the rocky beach, toward a steep mountain face that had a path running to it. 
“They hate us because we aren’t like them. We are created beings without equal, save the Maker. We possess abilities that they can only dream of having. That alone scares them because they cannot control us,” she explained. approaching the wall of rock that was straight up. He was about to tell her there was a small path to the right, a little way back when she stepped through the wall.
He dropped his hand in disbelief and stared at the stone. This is impossible. He thought before her hand appeared again and she grabbed ahold of his cloak pulling him through. Inside was a large canyon that seemed to end at the wall they’d passed through.  He passed his hand through the wall a few times and his mind couldn’t grasp it.
“Maker’s Might, what is this?” he exclaimed turning back to her. She placed a finger over his lips, reminding him to stay quiet. She motioned for him to follow her with one hand before walking across the even floor of the valley between the two steep mountains.
“There is a secret entrance to the fortress and only I know where it is. I’ve set up illusions, like that one, so no one will find out. Lucifer doesn’t realize I left the fortress and I’m hoping that he never finds out. I don’t want him to know about the passageway,” she whispered to him before she turned to him, “You breathe a word of it and I’ll curse you.”
He ran to catch up as she turned back around, walking away again. They walked for what seemed like miles in unburdened silence while he tried to figure out why she was using this passageway.
Why keep this from Lou? If an enemy found out about the passage, they could overrun the Fortress without having to use the front gate. It would give them the advantage. He thought logically and he could almost sense her reading the thought before she rolled her eyes.  
“Kalista, what do you use the passage for? You shouldn’t travel alone. There are a lot of demons and humans, for that matter, who wouldn’t think twice about killing you. If they knew what and who you are, they wouldn’t bat an eye,” he cautioned, but she shook her head. She turned at a sigil that was carved into the wall and she laid her palm to it. The wall slowly opened and she stepped inside a well-lit hallway. 
“Oh hush, this is my sigil Remi. It only opens for me and I’m not about to let an enemy into Lou’s fortress. There is too much at stake,” she stated as he walked through the opening before it closed again. He turned back to it and set his hand on the cool stones. He willed it to open but it remained closed. He tried to visualize it opening but it sent a shock down his arm and he pulled his hand back as she giggled.
“I told you. I’m the only one who can open it. Come Remiel, you and the twins need food and rest. Lucifer won’t be up for a couple hours and we can talk about everything in my quarters,” she encouraged him with a smirk turning the left corner of her lips up. He nodded and followed, still trying to understand the capacity of her powers and other questions.
If I’d used my powers, would Danyella still be alive? Would Uriel have been able to touch her? Did Danyella die because I didn’t tell her?





[1] Sister

Saturday, March 25, 2017

What Writer's Do: Inconvenience

This week (and next week too :( ), I’m having to adjust my schedule do to a sewing and crafting retreat that I go to with my mom and I don’t trust the scheduled posting because the camp we’re at has unreliable internet. So, that being said, I thought it would be appropriate to talk about What Writers Do When Inconvenienced.

Having unreliable internet has proven to be a challenge when writing because I can’t access my other books to check for consistency, I can’t access my OneNote files to check names, ages, or important dates, I can’t save my files until I get home, I can’t switch from writing on the computer to writing on my phone, and I can’t access Pinterest to get the scenes I’ve already written on my secret boards. It’s an overall a huge inconvenience and I’m glad this isn’t a writing conference.

There are a few good things about being without the internet connection, though. It’s helping me socialize more, it keeps me on task, and I got projects done. I’ve written about a chapter and a half this weekend, which is less than normal due to the circumstances. Like any other thinking individual, I’ve adapted.

I take my electronics home every night and transfer the saved data to my Dropbox, where I store my stories, and make sure they are up again before I leave the house in the morning. Not to mention, downloading more music so that I didn’t have to stream it over Apple Music.

I’m thankful that I live close by and get to return home at night to sleep before coming in for breakfast. If I didn’t have access to Wi-Fi at all this weekend, I would have gone insane or mental. This addict can’t be without her stories and her music. Anyhow, it’s an inconvenience but I’ve worked around it and been as patient as I can with the slower internet (Or no internet at times) because the staff here can do nothing more to help it. Being out in the middle of nowhere makes it hard to get a hold of everyone but I really do enjoy the time sitting, sewing, and seeing all my crafty friends again.

Anyhow, to summarize: when we’re inconvenienced, we adapt. We find a way and we work with it as much as we can. If everything fails and nothing is working, we’ll even resort to the old-fashioned pencil and paper.

That’s all I’ve got for today. Take time to unplug from the internet, social media, and life every once and awhile. It’ll do you a world of good.

Go be awesome,

Jenny.

Wednesday, March 22, 2017

Story Snippet: A Broken Redeemer II

This will be short since I'm at the tail end of Book II and **Spoilers** so, yep, Here you go:

Dearest


Sweet


Kalista,


I am writing to apologize for the things I said. I would rather do it in person but you won’t let me in and I understand why. If someone accused me the way I accused you, I wouldn’t talk to them either. I’m sorry that I didn’t listen to you. I need to trust that you know what you’re doing.


Cannon sent me a letter detailing everything he found out and Skyler, Sr. did too. I’m sorry that I believed my source and that man’s testimony over your word. I want to tell you so much more and apologize for everything else in person.The Council has said that I can see you the day before the rituals. The City’s barrier will be weak enough that I can enter then. I regret the decisions I’ve made.


I hope you enjoyed having some time with your sister’s and Lilith. She just returned crying. I must end here.  I still love you Angeles Simakti.


With all my love, your Packana,


Lucifer Angelic.


My heart ached and a single tear tried to run down my face but I quickly wiped it away. I laid on the mattress and looked up through the lace ceiling and up at the passing clouds. I closed my eyes and meandered over to the door I’d locked. My hand was inches from it when a hand touched my shoulder.

I whirled around and Serenity smiled at me. I sighed in relief and she held out her hands to me. I took them and she inspected my outfit with a smile. When her eyes met mine, I saw a depth to her grass green eyes that scared me.

“You look gorgeous T’soulus. I wanted to speak with you before tomorrow. I sense a coming darkness and I wanted to warn you. I don’t know if I’ll be able to speak to you after today,” she began as I tried to pull my hands from hers but she held on, “I won’t be gone forever but they do things to the children that made me unable to speak to them like this. I watched their pain but I couldn’t comfort them.”

Tears lined her eyes and I pulled her to me, wrapping her in a hug. She had been talking to me ever since my birthday and I would miss her dearly. She was like my conscience, reminding me of what I shouldn’t do and praising me for the good I’d done. She held me tightly and set her head to mine.

“I’m so sorry for what you have to go through Kalista. If I were alive, I’d put a stop to it,” she declared as she pulled back and cupped my cheeks in her hands, “Don’t give up. Twenty years is a drop in the bucket next to how long you’ve lived. Remember those that love you and care about you. We won’t give up on you. I promise.”

With that, she disappeared and I turned back to the door. I reached for it again and tears slid down my cheeks. I pulled my hand back.


No, I can’t face him now. I’ll go to him later.

Important Notice: I'm posting this a bit early due to the fact that I'm going to be at a Hobby Retreat from today until Saturday and again next week from Wednesday to Saturday. Because of this, Saturday's blogs may be late (Or early) and Wednesday's will also be early. 

Saturday, March 18, 2017

What Writers Do: When They Don't Want To

A lot of us have this problem and none of us like to admit it. Sometimes, we don't want to write. It may be just because it's a beautiful day, some special event is going on, or we just doubt our own writing. We start to fizzle and we decide that we don't want to write that hour, that day, that week, or that month.

It's overcoming this "Writers Block" that makes us writers. We pick up our pens, we grab our pads, and we write. We don't let our mood, our mind, or our schedule deter us from writing. No matter what, we stick our pen to the paper (or our fingers to the keyboard and write).

It's not something everyone says and I want to be genuine with all of you. I love writing but some days I can't concentrate and other days life gets in the way, making me not want to write. This is where I have to stop myself, get back in the groove and follow my own advice.

I've written about what I do to focus in a past blog and another blog on what I do when I get to a spot where I "Lack inspiration." That's not what I'm talking about here. This is when you're at the lowest of the low and you feel like you're a horrible writer and you don't want to write, edit, or even look at another word you've written.

When you get into this mood, drop the eraser, keep your hands off the delete button and don't you dare edit a single syllable. You need to pull yourself out of the mud off self-doubt (which we all have), go clean off in the hose of positivity out back, and then take a shower in good music to get the rest off the doubt off.

Do not listen to that little voice inside that says your book is worthless. Do not listen to the one who says you are the worst writer in history. And above all, Don't listen to those around you who says that writing isn't a real job and that you can't become anything by being a writer.

Listen to that voice in your head that thinks of a story or a theory behind what's going on in your little world day by day (or in a galaxy far, far away). Listen to the voice that says some day you'll be someone's favorite author. Above all, listen to the people around you, cheering for you to finish your book and the ones who believe that you can do this. You can be a writer and you can be someone's hero.

Don't get caught in the trap of not writing. If you write, you're a writer. You don't aspire to it. You are it. So pick up that pen and write. Put your fingers on the keyboard and get writing. Don't put it off.
An object in motion stays in motion. But, an object at rest will remain at rest unless acted upon by an outside force. Be that outside force. Stay moving, don't give up and don't quit.

Go be awesome and write.
-Jenny
I may have used this quote before but it's a good one.



Wednesday, March 15, 2017

Character Introduction II: Lucifer Angelic

“Director Angelic, I need to talk to you about Kalista,” someone called to me as the elevator doors almost shut. I slid my foot in the door and they opened again, revealing a short woman with her long blonde hair tied back into a tight bun.

“Agent Stella, it’s always nice to talk with you this early in the morning,” I hinted, letting her get on the elevator with me. I pushed the one button and the doors closed again. She looked up at me, trying to decide if I was being sarcastic and I simply gave her my best diplomatic smile.

“Don’t give me that Lucifer. Where did you send Kalista now? She’s not supposed to be traveling out of the country without supervision,” She snapped, telling me what I already knew. If Stella wasn’t complaining or bossing someone around, she wasn’t happy. How does Jethro deal with her constant nagging? I thought before the elevator chimed and the doors open.

“She’s not unsupervised. Please, Agent Stella, I’m not that irresponsible. I ran this Agency just fine before all of you came back to earth and I did a bang-up job. You all arrived and it went to pieces,” I asserted before walking toward my office. She humphed before following me a moment later, jogging to catch up.

“That still doesn’t tell me where you sent her,” she pointed out and I stopped at my door. I turned my head to her and looked at her honey brown eyes that matched her honey blonde curls.

“That would be confidential, Agent Stella. If her whereabouts were known, then her cover would be blown and we can kiss whatever leads she had goodbye,” I pointedly explained, making sure she understood. I stepped into my office and went to close the door but she stepped in the way. I rolled my red eyes underneath my own sandy blonde hair and raised my eyebrows at the interruption.

“Director Angelic, I am not only the Agent she’s reporting to but her grandmother…” She began and I cut in without waiting for her to finish.

“Actually I meant to talk with you about that,” I inserted and she stopped, blinking up at me, left eye twitching, “I’ve moved her underneath Adarian Shadow, since he has a higher clearance than you do, which makes that first point invalid and for the second. I don’t consider you her grandmother. You’re merely her Mother’s godmother, an honorary Grandmother and if you loved her, you’d let her do her job.”

I ambled over to my desk and sat down in the leather chair, leaving her stunned speechless in my doorway. After a few minutes, she pressed her lips together and stomped off, slamming the door behind her, like a teenager throwing a tantrum. It was pathetic in my opinion and I knew she was going to find or call Adarian, so I picked up the phone and dialed his number, knowing he’d be in his office.

“Director Angelic, what can I do for you?” he purred, leaning back in his office chair. I smiled, grateful that one person could be civil with me.

“Adarian, I’m sorry to do this but Mother superior is on her way down to your office. If I were you, I’d get out of there as soon as possible,” I warned and he leaned forward again, chair snapping to attention. He groaned and stood up, grabbing a few things from his desk.

“You told her you made Kalista my protégé, didn’t you?” he inquired already knowing the answer. I turned around in my chair and faced the back wall were a picture of Kalista’s family sat on a lower shelf, tucked out of sight.

“Only because she was barking about needing to know her location and pulling rank. You know how much I despise her when she does that,” I pointed out and he laughed. He knew all too well how his mother acted and he didn’t berate me for treating her like that. He simply understood and moved on, unlike a few other individuals I won’t take the time to name.

“You know that only makes her hate you more. I have to go. I hear the hornet now. You owe me one Lou,” he hinted before hanging up. I levitated the phone to the hook only for it to ring again. I levitated it back to my hand and hit the accept call button.

“This is Director Angelic. How can I help you?” I asked, voice pleasant and clear. There was a few minutes of silence before a deep sigh.

“Hello, Director Angelic, this is Agent Spiriter. Um, we have a bit of a situation,” Makuta’s voice came and my mind snapped to attention. Makuta was on a similar mission to Kalista and Michael. If his mission failed, then theirs might too.

“What happened? Can you explain? Do you need backup?” I reeled jumping up from my chair and pulling out my drawer with my gun in it. He chuckled and I paused.

“It’s nothing like that Lou. I’ve just found that I’m not the only agent assigned to this. Today, during my travels, I met Agent Vincent Crowell of the European division,” he corrected me before I could grab the gun. I stopped and sit back down with a sigh of relief.

“How is Agent Cromwell? Does he know if anyone is following the same lead as Kalista and Michael?” I questioned, hoping they did. Makuta took the phone from his ear and passed it to Vincent.

“No, we don’t. We didn’t even know there was a possible sighting there. I will call Director Fortuna and inform him right away, if you think it’s necessary,” Vincent deferred, I leaned back and thought hard about it. If it wasn’t a threat, sending someone else would only make things more difficult. If there was a threat, it never hurt to send too much help.

“No, I’ll call Laban myself. I haven’t spoken to Director Fortuna in a few years, it wouldn’t hurt to catch up,” I replied stopping to think about my brother and his family, “Last we talked, he was hoping to retire and go back to treasure hunting in the black sea to find Atlantis. It would be good to see what his plans were now.”

“Then you have a lot to catch up on. I’ll let you talk with Agent Spiriter again. It’s nice to work with another seasoned agent instead of rookies,” Vincent praised Makuta before handing over the phone.


“Director, I’ll let you get back to your other engagements. I had a call from Kalista this morning and she said that there has been a sighting of him. They have video evidence over several days. I’d have Laban send someone to them,” he expressed before we both hung up. This was becoming more of a hassle than I originally anticipated. 

Saturday, March 11, 2017

What Writer's Do: When Stories Get Too Long

Alright, so I slept in until noon today after going to bed somewhat early last night, which is a real shocker to me and then I got right to work on other things forgetting that it was Saturday. Ugh! Anyway, I decided I was going to sit down and talk about what happened this week or more importantly what I decided had to happen this week.

I've been writing up a storm lately and realized that I had well over 160k+ words written and was nowhere near the end of the book. This terrified and excited me. When a first book is that long, no one will look at it, so I had to take a few days and contemplate my options of which there weren't very many. Really there were only two.

Option A:
Delete a buttload of words (a buttload is an actual term) and key scenes. Spoiler: this was the option I refused to take since I'd already omitted a few scenes I thought would fit. Deleting words is what most authors will do but I was not going to trim down by 30k+ words.

Option B:
Split the book into two parts. This was the only other option. So, I read through what I had and picked a good stopping point. This turned out to be easier than I'd anticipated. I picked the spot and was happy to know that there were 86k words before that point, which was a perfect amount of words for the first novel. With that said, the first draft of Book I: A Born Angel is complete (And technically has been complete for a few weeks.)

Then came another question. What am I going to call the next book?

I really have no ideas this time. the Title for A Born Angel came without hesitation. She is a Born Angel so what better to name the book and title the series? Plus, I already have tentative titles for the next (X number) of books. Nope, I'm not telling you how many there will be because the number changes from time to time. Wait! It just hit me.

Announcing: Book II of the Born Angel novels. **drumroll** A Broken Redeemer. **hears crickets chirping** I know, I know. "I thought that's  what you had as the title of Book I for awhile." That's true but it didn't fit. So, Book II: A Broken Redeemer is nearly finished... or maybe not, now that I have more room to work with.

That's all for today. This was more of a personal experience than anything else but it fit with the theme and intended purpose of this blog series. Well, sorry for getting distracted, I hope you have a great rest of the weekend. Go be Awesome.

-Jenny



Wednesday, March 8, 2017

Story Snippet: The Dragon (Another WIP)

**First off I have to apologize. Simply put, I lied. The Complex version: On Saturday I said I would be done writing Book I by now and on to Book II, but I'm not. I do have 164,400 words right now but I'm still not done. I have three more key scenes to write or four and everything right now would be a major spoiler. In lieu of that, this week's Story Snippet comes from The Dragon, which is another Born Angel Novel about a different Main Character.**

“Cayleigh please reconsider,” Dean Stewart Mitchell of the University of California’s Los Angeles campus mercilessly begged. It was the fifth time he’d called me and only the second time I’d answered. I sat down on the sandy rock face and took a deep breath. It was the same conversation we had last time I answered. I should remind myself not to answer my cell phone when I'm climbing.
“We’ve been over this Stewart. I work alone. I refuse to babysit snotty rich kids who brush off old bones during the day and hump anything they please at night,” I argued with a scowl. Stewart sighed and I wanted to strangle him. He had been my history prof in college and quickly turned into one of my only friends, but even that could change if he didn’t let this go.
“You’ll be paid a hundred thousand to let him intern with you,” he paused as eyebrows rose. That was quadruple what he offered me on the voicemail that he left last week. That was more than I’d earned in the last three years. It would only take five or six thousand to cover the expenses incurred by allowing the intern to travel with me for the summer, which made me suspicious.
“Stewart, why quadruple what you offered me? What’s the deal with this kid? Why are you sticking him with me? Does he not play well with others?” I flipped my Bluetooth on and slipped my phone into its pocket on the strap of my pack before I scaled back down the mountain I was sitting on. He was silent for a moment as papers rustled and I rolled my eyes.
Please tell me he’s done some research on the perspective intern. I will if he didn’t. I don’t need a criminal record, a stalker, or a previously failed internship blindsiding me later on. I thought as I climbed down, being careful of the pack.
“The student has offered to pay double whatever the college was offering you. His family is on the richer side and he asked to intern with you by name. He doesn’t like large archaeology digs. He made a good point about quality assurance and fragmented pieces,” Stewart rambled and my foot slipped on some loose rock. I gasped and quickly regained my footing as I secured the cumbersome pack on my shoulders.
Rock climbing was one of my favorite pastimes but I usually free climbed. I loved the ease of not having to carry or bring equipment along. Today was different. I was traditional climbing with all the equipment ropes, anchors, and cams. Falling was not an option this time. It was far too important. If I dropped my pack, I could lose something invaluable.  
“Are you alright? What are you doing? Did I catch you at a bad time?” he interrogated, sounding semi-remorseful. I inhaled deeply to calm my accelerated heart rate. I checked the rope and fastened myself to an anchor before dangling there to catch my breath.
“I’m fine Stew and it’s always a bad time. You know that. This time, you caught me rock climbing down from my latest perch,” I joked with enough sarcasm that he didn’t get it. He sighed and his office chair squeaked. He was no doubt leaning back in the chair shaking his head at me.
He thought I was the most reckless archaeologist ever to attend UCLA. I went to great lengths to gather and preserve history, which was why I worked alone. I couldn’t have someone else around. I didn’t need to endanger someone else’s life.
“Who is this student anyhow? How does he know me?” I pried when he didn’t respond.
“Cayleigh, you’re a famous archaeologist and an award-winning Twenty-five-year-old author. Doesn’t everyone know you by now?” he retorted and I plunked my head against the cliff face. That was a pipe dream. I had won prestigious awards for both my books and my finds but not everyone knew who I was and I was over cautious with those who did know. Fans were not something I wanted. I pulled my hip length, dark brown braided dreadlocks over my shoulder and set my head against a smooth area.
“Not everyone knows me like you do and I’d like to keep it that way. Now, out with it Mitchell. How does this kid know me?” I all but growled. The sun was setting and I needed to get back to camp before the weather changed. I sensed the rainstorm coming and I wanted to be in the cave before it started to pour. I didn't want to fry another Bluetooth and have to travel into town to get another. The cave was halfway down the mountain range and I’d only gone twelve feet down.
“He’s a student at the University of California’s Santa Barbara campus. He has a bachelor’s degree in Ancient History and Middle Eastern Archeology. I didn’t think to ask how he knew you. I assumed he read one of your books on Sumer or something like that,” he paused as papers shuffled again. I waited patiently, which was more than I would do for most people.
“Ah, here’s his official form. His name is Victor, Victor Spiriter,” I inhaled sharply and drowned out what he was saying. I propelled down to the mouth of the cave and quickly sat as my mind spun with faces until I recognized his face.
I unhooked my harness from the rope and slipped the pack off. I levitated it further into the cave, where it would be out of the rain, while I thought about why I knew his name and face. I must have been silent for a bit too long because Stew paused for a minute before adding, “I take it you know him.”
“Yes, he was one of the students that attended my lecture on Sumerian Theology at that campus. How did he know to contact you?” I further questioned him. Victor had been a memorable man.
His questions were intuitive and thought out. Then there was the fact that he was a Spirit, the half-angel, half-human descendants of the Council of Fire, and Makuta’s son. He was also good looking and his heterochromic eyes were unforgettable even without my powers. I remembered everyone and I was beginning to hate that but I couldn’t do anything about it so I pushed it from my mind.
“I’m friends with his father. You remember Makuta, don’t you? Victor explained that his father talked with him about his internship and when he expressed his thoughts about interning with you, Makuta handed him my number. Makuta has always had an interest in your work and he’s funding Victor’s internship,” he sounded all too pleased but I wasn’t. I didn’t like many people but Makuta was one of the few I hated. I knew far more about him than I wanted to. That’s when the rain started and I inhaled the smell I loved the most which lightened my sullen mood.
“Is that rain I hear? I hope you found cover,” he tried changing the subject. I rolled my eyes at his concern. He didn’t want to ruffle my feathers too much and he knew I didn’t like Makuta. He thought it was because Mak was preternatural. Stew assumed I hated all preternaturals because I avoided them and I let him think whatever he wanted. I didn’t need to explain my past to him. I’d been hiding it for so long that I didn't want anyone knowing, even now that preternatural’s were accepted. I didn’t want other preternaturals knowing that I wasn’t human. 

Saturday, March 4, 2017

The Writer's Life: February/March

March is here and it has brought back the snow to my area. I'm not happy about that. I miss the nice warm Spring days that February brought us. Besides this, it's time to look back on February's goals and see how I did. **cringes** This is going to be interesting.


  1. Health Goals: To keep exercising on a schedule and eating right.

    Okay, let me just say that I stuck to this about 75% of the time. I was/am facing some hard/medically interesting health issues this month that led to me not exercising as much or eating much... this was a bad thing. I didn't gain weight but I didn't lose any either. If you think of it, pray for me in March as I have tests and things done to figure out what's up. It may just be my exercising has thrown my body out of whack. I'm hoping that is all this is.
  2. Book Goals: Finish A Born Angel

    Well, this didn't happen. Last month I had 103k words... right now, I have 144,902 words, and we're reaching the point where I'm wrapping everything up. I will be done with it by Wednesday, which means I'll be giving you all a snippet from Book II: An Angel Falls. YAY! I've been so excited for book two because it has more content, less backstory (or what I consider backstory since I've already written books 4 and 6-10), and more action. Oh, I can't wait to start it but first I need to finish Book I.
  3. Blog Goals: Post consistently in the noon hour.

    Alright, so this one I did. Every blog was posted during the hour of noon except one. That day it was a snippet blog and I was in the middle of writing it when I lost track of time. My bad. That's one out of eight. I call this is a win. 
Now, for the month of March, I haven't really thought about any goals. Especially since I have a lot going on this month. So, that being said here we go. 

  1. Health Goals:
    Simply, to figure out what's going on with my body. It seems to have a vengeful hatred for me recently and I finally broke down and called the doctor. Yes, I hate doctors and have a few health issues that require me to see a doctor every six months. Not fun. Anyhow, enough about that.
  2. Book Goals:
    Finish Book I, I know this has been a thing all year but this month is going to be easy for that. Also, to write at least 25K for Book II, with a start and some of the content already outlined, this should be a piece of cake.
  3. Blog Goals:
    I don't really have any Blog Goals other than to stay consistent in posting. It's been good so far and I have my bi-annual crafting retreat at the end of this month as well. So, that's all really.
With that being said, March will be an exciting (and frustrating month). I have my crafting retreat the last two weeks (Wed-Sat) but I am going to try writing ahead for those and posting on time. If I happen to post late on the 22, 25, 29, and the first of April, it will be due to internet service over at camp. I will try to figure out how to use the scheduling part of Blogger before I leave for that. 

A few things I'm ecstatic about this month: The release of Moana on DVD, the theatrical release of Beauty and the Beast (live action) for which I already grabbed tickets, Birthdays (my Nana's specifically), and finishing the first draft of Book I. 

A few things I'm dreading: Doctors Appointments and Medical tests. I'm not looking forward to any of these. I've been having more migraines as of late and they have ordered an MRI but haven't gotten it authorized by my insurance yet. I have five appointments this month and I'm not thrilled about any of them but I'm keeping my head up and praying that none of them go horribly. 

I really don't want to end on that note so here's something I don't think I've talked about. Besides being a writer and crafter, I'm also an artist. I like to draw anime-style (and sometimes realistic) pictures and last year I was reintroduced to 3D Art through DAZ Studio. I enjoy using the software to make stunning pictures of my characters and putting them on my Deviant Art account. So, with that don't forget to follow me on social media. All those links are on the Follow Me page. 

Go be Awesome,
Jenny Williams
P.s. Here is one of my recent drawings. 



Wednesday, March 1, 2017

Character Introduction II: Julian Maxwell

I sat on the school steps and watched as the cars pulled up, dropping off the others that didn’t ride the bus. I was thinking about the LAPD and PMCA’s annual Gala that mom was forcing me to attend tomorrow night when my phone vibrated like a heartbeat against the stone. I picked it up and looked at the message from my girlfriend, Katerina DeMonica.

I have some big news to tell you! -Ur Kat (^w^)

I smiled at the cat emoji that was her signature. She always knows how to brighten my day. I started typing before I heard my name and looked up to see her climbing out of her father’s pickup truck.

“Jules!” Kat called from across the school’s front sidewalk as she ran toward me. I smiled at the way her brown eyes sparkled and her long blonde hair trailed along a second behind her.

“Hey, Kat. I just got your text. What’s the big news?” I asked keeping her on track as she joined me on the stairs. She gave me a quick hug and peck on the cheek before she grinned, all but bouncing with excitement.

“Director Angelic said that the Fire and Spirit City is coming back today,” she beamed and I fought not to roll my eyes. For weeks now, she’d talked about nothing else but that City and Director Angelic. I still wasn’t sure what all the hype was about. We walked up the steps as the warning bell rang and I thought of something positive to say.

“Good, more preters to join the ranks of the Agency. What with HAP -humans against preternaturals- and all,” I paused as she shot me a glare, “Why is it important?” I asked, trying not to quench her enthusiasm. She shrugged off the comment like a dog would shake off water.

“Because the LAPD is hosting the gala tomorrow and all the Preternaturals that are affiliated with the Agency are going to be there. It’s a chance for us to make friends,” she hinted, ever the diplomat, as we stopped at our lockers. I pulled out my history book and sighed at the concept.

“Need I remind you, that this is just another gala to celebrate the Preternaturals and us, humans, living in harmony. Besides, we already have preter friends or don’t Merida and Tiana count anymore?” I jabbed as the red head twins walked into school with their backpacks slung over their shoulders. Speak of the Devils. I thought and Tiana threw me a devious grin as she heard it as plainly as if I'd spoken it aloud. Kat punched my arm as she hefted her French books from the locker.

“They count but I mean more preternatural friends. Don’t be such a kill joy Maxwell,” Kat reprimanded me, using her old-married-wife voice that I didn’t appreciate. I rolled my eyes and Merida wrapped her arms around Kat’s middle.

“I see you told Mister Grumpypants about the imminent return of the city,” she beamed as a strand of her curling red hair escaped the braid she had it tied back into. I nodded and shut the door to my locker a bit louder than I’d planned.

“Maker, did someone get up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?” Tiana asked, tucking her thumbs into the straps of her backpack. I heaved a sigh and shook my head at the usually quieter twin.

“No, I just don’t want to get all dressed up for another Gala. It’s pointless,” I paused, feeling someone’s looming presence behind me. I slowly turned to find my Dad wearing his LAPD uniform and glaring down at me.

“Julian, this is the most important Gala yet. You know I wouldn’t make you go unless it was necessary. You only have to attend for a few hours and then your Aunt Jada offered to take you and your friends wherever you’d like,” he relented as his partner and my honorary Aunt, Jada Delorae walked up beside him. Her long black hair was pulled into a sophisticated ponytail that complimented her business suit which she preferred over her boxy uniform.

“You forgot to tell him the best part,” Jada commented ruffling my hair like she’d always done. I shrugged away from her reach and Tiana smiled wide enough that I caught a glimpse of her elongated incisors. A shiver ran down my spine and Merida let go of Kat to grin up at my dad.

“Good Morning, Captain Maxwell, Marshall Delorae. Kat already told him about the City coming back just in time to attend the Gala,” She beamed shaking both of their hands. Dad nodded to her and gave a polite smile. He would never admit it but he liked the twins, even if it was because they were so much like their father, Director Lucifer Angelic. He turned to Kat and nodded a greeting.

“Did you get to the part about Director Angelic’s youngest daughter and her family?” he asked as my ears perked up. Director Angelic had another daughter? What did he mean her family? Was she that much older than the twins?

“Jules, if you keep thinking so hard, you’re going to give yourself an aneurysm,” Tiana commented nudging me with her elbow. I reached my hand up and rubbed my neck.

“Sorry,” I mumbled as Dad set his hand on my shoulder. The girls walked on to French and I looked up into his brown eyes, hoping this wouldn’t be another lecture.

“Rumor has it, this daughter is your age, has a few friends you’d get along with, and a twin brother. I want you to make friends with them and don’t treat them any differently than you do the twins,” he set his expectations and I took a deep breath to clear the coming regret.

“Sure, dad. I’ll do my best,” I replied before the second bell rang. He let me go and I moved toward the door of my history class.

“Love you bud,” he offered before turning to leave.

“I love you too dad,” I returned before slipping into the doorway, all-the-while thinking about Director Angelic’s youngest daughter. Was she the one from the picture that was taken the day the Agency opened? After eight years of wondering, would I finally get to meet her?