Wednesday, April 26, 2017

Character Introduction: Beelzebub

**Disclaimer: please don't be turned off by his name. He can't help that his mother named him that.**

“...These lessons are for your own good. You need to learn how to control your powers or you'll end up hurting others,” Cannon switched gears when he noticed me staring off into space. I sat up straighter and straightened my tunic.

“I'm sorry. I was distracted by a stray thought,” I admitted, not knowing any better. Being fifteen-years-old I hadn't yet learned that saying this to an authority figure, especially a knowledgeable and wise man like Cannon Tragedy, was not a good thing. Cannon closes his book and pushed the wire frames of his spectacles up to worn notch in his nose where they'd probably sat since they'd been invented.

“Care to elaborate?” He asked, sitting on the sofa opposite me. I shrugged and leaned back, setting my arms along the back of the sofa I sat in.

“I had another realistic dream last night but this one looked… different. I followed this one girl around a city, whose clay brick houses and cobblestone streets reminded me of Rome,” I began not leaving much to the imagination, “The girl kept talking to me as if I were someone she knew but I can't say that I've ever met her. She was beautiful, petite, with long dark hair down to her knees and purple eyes that reminded me of violets in the spring...”

“Bub, you should tell your mother this. It may have been a vision. I'm not knowledgeable on such things,” he advised and I cringed inside. I turned to look at her door and shook my head.

“She isn't in the best of places lately and she only went to bed just before you came in. She's been having horrific visions and refuses to sleep before dawn,” I changed the subject and Cannon sat back with one hand to his chin. He stared off into space, his dark hair falling into his eyes and for the first time I noticed that it was beginning to grey at the edges. His grey-blue eyes looked haunted by everything he'd lived through and the knowledge of it colored his aura a dark menacing grey that reminded me of a thundercloud. He looked at my face again and rubbed his clean shaven chin.

“Have you been writing them down?” He asked, and I summoned the pieces of parchment from Mother’s room. He rolled his eyes and I shrugged before handing them to him.

“This looks like her writing. Why aren't you writing it down?” He accused, eyes quickly moving back and worth as he read.

“She didn't want me to know the details regarding the last few dreams. She said that they involved me and no one so young should know their destiny,” I quoted, watching his aura swirl through a vast array of dark shades. It was like watching a confused chameleon in a fruit basket.

“So you haven't read these?” He questioned, looking at me over the top of his glasses. I nodded and he held one of them out to me, “you should read this section.”

I hesitantly took the parchment and he nodded to it. I sat back and began to read:
Her life is so full of pain and heartache that it pains me deeply. This poor girl. She is so beautiful and kind, even though she will be scarred and hurt by so many. Her violet eyes reminded me of spring flowers and her dark hair looks just like her father's. Lucifer will be devastated when he learns what she is going to be put through. This poor little girl. I don’t want to tell him but I know I must.

I stopped reading and looked up at Cannon. He glanced up at me before he continued reading and I rubbed my temples in circular motions.

“That confirms my theory. You are having visions. It's not uncommon for the son of a Fate,” he explained away as if it were a common occurrence and I peered at him through my fingers, “You're a strong preternatural Beelzebub and you're only fifteen. I've no doubt that you will have more powers manifest themselves. You need to be watchful and report all of them to either Lucifer, Kalista, or myself…”

“Cannon, how is she doing?” I interrupted and he stopped reading. He looked up at me and sat back with a curious glint in his eyes.

“She's not herself lately. She's been too busy with the twins to feel anything about the passing of Danyelle,” he began to list off things and my eyebrows rose. He was avoiding the thing I wanted to know most about. He trailed off and sighed heavily, “Beelzebub, you've paid close attention to our relationship over the last two years. What have you seen?”

My mouth was suddenly parched. Should I tell him? Now I knew how Mother felt when she had to give bad news. I swallowed and stared into his dark eyes.

“Has she told you about her brother?” I inquired, knowing that his answer would determine mine.

“I assume, since you're avoiding his name, that you're talking about one of the black sheep of the fallen angels,” he asserted and I nodded, “That being the case, it's either Raphael or Uriel.”

“Yes, Uriel… What has she told you about him?” I furthered, hoping I wasn't the bearer of bad news. He straightened and set the stack of parchment down beside him.

“Beelzebub, what is this about? I know enough to know that he isn't someone you want to cross and you can't trust him,” he offered, obviously avoiding any details about the relationship between his wife and her brother.

“If the dream of this girl was a vision, like you say, than I've seen one of him abusing Kalista,” I explained in a quiet voice that was atypical for me. He blinked a few times and nodded.

“She said as much but not in so many words,” he cryptically offered and I sat back, combing my long curly hair from my eyes. Of course, she wouldn't tell him any of the graphic details. Cannon and Kalista were married but that didn't mean they shared things like this.

“I doubt she can talk about it at all,” I muttered under my breath and he stood.

“Enough of that, let's return to your lesson.”

Saturday, April 22, 2017

What Writers Do: Old Stories (Nostalgia)

Every writer knows what I mean when I talk about "Old Stories". You know the ones. You started a novel in your teens or early twenties and it just never got finished or maybe it was a simple story idea. Somehow or other, it got lost in the shuffled deck of life. I came upon a few of these stories of my own this week and I got to thinking. A few thinks went through my mind after I read them. 

Number One:

"I was really into Fantasy and adventure back then." This really hasn't changed. I still do love a good fantasy, adventure YA or Adult books like the Throne of Glass Novels by Sarah J. Maas and the Anita Blake Series by Laurell K. Hamilton, but these books were written while I was reading books like Belle by Cameron Dokey and The Great Tree of Avalon by T.A. Barron, their writing styles really showed through in my writing. This lead to:

Number Two:

"Maybe I can work these into my Spirit Novel Chronicles." A few of them I definitely can. I mean some are only story points, a synopsis, or a prologue but others have legit storyboard content that would not mesh with the overall arching theme of the Series. But there was one special gem I found amongst the cobwebs of my unfinished manuscripts. An eleven chapter start to a novel that fits right well with the rest of the Novels I'm currently writing, which floored me because this was written back in late 2010 when I was a Senior in High School and I was writing for fun, which led to another thought. 

Number Three:

"I have to finish my current WIP's before I can finish this story!" This thought didn't hit me until after I did a quick "run through edit" of that book, which consists of me reading over and adding or subtracting little things I see in one sitting. It took about twelve hours last week to sit down and finish. When I realized the potential of it, I quickly wrote some notes on my phone for later and tried to shift gears back to the Born Angel Novels. 

This was no easy task. I had to shift mindsets, remember what was happening in A Broken Redeemer, which I hadn't picked up in almost two weeks when I edited a whole chapter off the end because it didn't fit and took my characters in the wrong direction. This took five days to do. I'm just now getting into the swing of writing Kalista again. 

But this time, I'm not going to let those ideas sit there and collect dust. Nope, now they're on my Dropbox and my phone so that I can get to them... as soon as I finish up with Kalista's series... I may take a break from Kalista's series between books Four and five just because Five is already written and I'll need to heavily edit book Five so that it coincides with all the back story. 

Anywho, when we writers find old stories, we tend to become nostalgic and wish that we could pick up those books, dust them off, and give them new life but we have to stick our nose to the grindstone and finish the current WIP first. No plot bunnies, NO new story (or in this case) Old story ideas. We have to finish a book in order to become published. 

I hope this little piece of humor made you laugh or maybe you could relate to it. If you did, let me know. For now, Go be awesome and enjoy the weekend while it's here becomes Monday comes fast. 


Wednesday, April 19, 2017

Story Snippets: Random Quotes

Today, I have to say that I haven't actually written much, if anything, of A Broken Redeemer. I actually had to edit out a whole chapter that I had written because it would have taken the story in the wrong direction. So, because of this I have nothing new to give you. I've decided to give you a quote from each of my books that I have either finished or am working on right now. Which is a lot.

From A Born Angel Series:

Book One, A Born Angel:

"You're more powerful than I would have guessed for only twelve and a half human years, but you've had more than two thousand years’ experience. Some of your powers, like telepathy, telekinesis, the gift of fate, compulsion, and prosokinesis are already apparent but there are some still bubbling to the surface. My Master and I are watching you very closely." -The Angel of Darkness

Book Two, A Broken Redeemer:

"Let go of me, you demented freak.” (From one of the last chapters)

Book Three, An Angel Falls:

I just really hate myself for agreeing to this. I'd done it once for him and now they were asking for me to do it for them. How twisted am I that I'd put myself through this again. The lies, the hurt, the agony, and the influence of the Master...

Book four,  A New Beginning:

"You're much too young to hate the world so much." -Adarian 

 "It's not the word that I hate... It's the evil in the world that I despise." -Kalista's Reply.

Book Five, A Murder Most Foul:

"I told your mother this after her parents died and now I'm telling you. You have the ability, the heart, and the knowledge to make a difference. Don’t let anyone take those things away from you." -Jethro 

Book Six, A New Life:

"... What I've lived through would have killed you." -Kalista

Book Seven, A Tragedy Occurs:

"You’re what’s wrong with me! All of you just expect me to pick up and move on as if nothing happened. I don’t know about you, but I can’t do that!" -Kalista

Alright, that's enough for now. I'll get more done in the next two weeks. For now, enjoy these. 

Saturday, April 15, 2017

What Writers Do: Saying No

This is going to be a short blog and because it's something I need to work on myself. Sometime during your writing, blogging or vlogging career you will come to a point where you have to say no to social events, friends, and even your family in order to meet deadlines.

This usually comes when you've been procrastinating and you realize that you only have X amount of time to finish your book or write that blog or create that video. You've put it off until the last minute and now you have to say no to that important person in your life so you can crank out the content for your fans, viewers, or readers. This is a hard thing to do but you have to do it because what you do is a job.

When you come down to it, you need to remember that writing (blogging and vlogging) is a career. It's not a hobby that no one really cares if you finish. It's a job. Except at this job, you have to push yourself because, let's face it, if you're self-publishing, there isn't going to be anyone standing over your shoulder and holding you to your deadlines (Unless of course you have that one crazy fan or you have asked someone to push you).

When it comes to saying no, I have a problem. Especially during the summertime, things can get busy in my life and I tend to get worn out with social things before any writing gets done. This is a habit I need to tackle. So here are three things I'm going to work on that will help me say no.

  1. Making Deadlines for myself: This is a big one for me. At the moment, I do have a few deadlines. Like posting blogs during the noon hour and finishing books as I set goals (fancy word for deadlines). In the past, I've set these deadlines and then ignored or forgotten them or life/health got in the way of accomplishing these goals. No More! I'm going to push myself, even when I feel lousy and my health isn't good, to complete goals. 
  2. Asking for People to Push you: Alright, this is a hard one because I hate when people nag me about my books (It's even worse when said person has never written or finished a book in their life). I am going to have a set goal that I need to reach every week and have my friend hold me to them. This will push me to accomplish my goals on time. 
  3. Practice: I'm going to start saying no to things. Saying no to a person who asks me to do something that I really have no time for in the first place. Saying no to that nagging family member who doesn't take my writing seriously. Saying no to the person who never does anything for me but instead wants me to do everything for them. 
These are a just a few ways I personally am going to work on to meet deadlines, accomplish my goals, and achieve my dreams. So, that's all for today.

Go be awesome and meet those deadlines,
Jenny Williams.

Wednesday, April 12, 2017

Character Introduction: Stella Luna Prophecy

“Stella, I don’t understand you lately. Why are you acting like she can’t take care of herself? She’s proved herself more than once,” Jethro called as soon as he walked in the door. I shook my head and rolled my eyes, grabbing a bottle of mead from the counter as I walked into the library. I knew he’d come find me, so I didn’t bother standing around. I started cleaning up the dishes that were left over from the dinner party.

“I don’t care if she can take care of herself or not. If she’s going to live in this house, she’s going to abide by my rules,” I countered, setting a stack of plates on a side table before I cracked open the bottle. I set it to my lips and took a long drink, letting the strong flavor help me unwind.

“Stella Luna, I,” he paused at the door. He stomped up to me and grabbed the bottle from my lips, “You’ve been drinking again? You and I both know that you’re going to regret this in the morning.”

“I don’t give a chimera’s rump what I’ll do in the morning. She thinks she can skip an important ball this afternoon and then disrupt the dinner party for the rest of the Council members by stumbling in and bleeding all over the place, then she can deal with the consequences,” I clarified and he looked back at the door. He sighed and picked up the stack of dishes before he walked toward the stairs.

“Did you have her clean up her own blood?” he asked as the dishes clattered into the sink. I picked up the second stack and walked out of the room.

“Yes. She’s strong enough to fix her wounds and fight for the council. She’s strong enough to clean the front entry,” I shouted toward the kitchen. I stumbled through the doorway and the dishes started to tumble off. I started to fall after them but stopped and I didn’t hear the dishes fall either.

I opened my eyes to find Kalista standing in the back door with her hand out. My vision blurred in and out of focus but I could see that her other arm was braced on her stomach and there was a bruise on her face that was in the shape of a handprint. Jethro stopped by the table and turned to stare at her. She grimaced and glanced toward him.

“Stop staring and grab her… please,” she groaned and Jethro ran over to me. He quickly grabbed the dishes before he wrapped an arm around me. Kalista dropped her hand and gravity returned. She fell to her knees, gasping for air and set her uninjured hand on the floor.

“Kalista, Esca’troikas, are you okay?” I asked, stumbling toward her. She looked up at me and shook her head. She took a few solid breaths before she was able to speak at all.

“It-He… he’s back,” she whispered eyes wide with terror as I knelt beside her. Something crashed upstairs and Jethro ran off to check what it was.

“Who’s back Kalista? What are you talking about?” I asked not understanding a word she said. Last I knew, she was up in her room. How’d she get outside and on the ground? I thought and Kalista shuddered as a strange aroma wafted in through the door.

“I-I jumped off the garage roof. When I we-went to my room, The-There was some-someone there,” she stuttered as Jethro came pounding back down the stairs. I heard him slam the front door shut and the metallic click of the deadbolt before he cocked his shotgun and I looked toward the hallway.

“Stella! Get her away from the door,” Jethro shouted as he ran back into the room and pointed his gun at the door. I looked over Kalista's shoulder and recognized a dark figure at the bottom of the steps. The only thing I could make out were his glowing orange eyes. I started to pull her up but she stumbled and we both fell.

“The Master… he’s back,” she whispered before her eyes rolled back into her head. I pulled her out of the way and Jethro walked to the door.

“I thought I told you to leave my family alone, B’aktano,” he called to the dark figure, his southern drawl thick with hate. I lifted my head up and knelt beside Kalista, pulling her head into my lap.

“I didn’t come after her this time, Jethro. She came to me. Walked right into my house but she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t kill me,” the being answered, voice gravelly and deep like thunder. Jethro threw the screen door open and got off one shot but the being vanished then reappeared like a shadow, dodging the bullet.

“Come now, Cryptic. We were family once too,” the man countered tone cold and I stiffened. What was he talking about? He can't be serious. Jethro kept his gun up and the figure set one foot on the bottom step.

“No, we weren’t. We treated you like a brother and you used us. Family doesn’t take advantage of each other,” he threw back and my fear mounted even through my drunken haze, “Now, get off my property or I’ll call Alistair.”

The being let out a belly laugh that sounded like nails on a chalk board. A shiver ran down my spine as I tried to process the threat. Alistair was Jethro and my youngest son, even if he was grown and had a family of his own, but he was also the Council’s assassin.

“You’d be sending him to his death,” the being growled and Jethro shot again. This time it caught the demon off-guard because he hadn’t pulled the hammer back. It hit the being in the shoulder and he growled in pain.

“You’ll regret this Jethro. One day she will run away and you won’t be there to protect her,” the thing growled before it disappeared. Jethro pointed the barrel at the floor before shutting the door and locking it tight.

“We need to install cameras around the house and I’m going to install a security system. I won’t lose any of you to that monster,” Jethro vowed, ice blue eyes glowing with anger. I nodded and looked down at our granddaughter.

“Why would the Master come back for her? Hasn’t he done enough?” I asked to the air. Jethro knelt beside us and lifted Kalista’s bruised arm to find more blood.

“He won’t stop until one of them is dead,” He sadly stated as he pulled out his cellphone and hit the speed dial he’d put for the hospital.

 “Hello, Larock… Yeah, she’s hurt pretty bad and passed out cold. The Master’s back,” he stated, turning to look into my eyes. I saw regret in his ice blue eyes but deeper than that I saw anger. Anger that wouldn't be sated until the Master was stone cold in his grave.

Saturday, April 8, 2017

What Writers Do: Collaborating

This is the reason I didn't get this blog out on time. I've been out all day, collaborating with my sister and working on character renders for her, which makes this the best topic for the day. Collaborating, working with fellow writers on a project can be something amazing or absolutely horrible, it depends on your collaborator.

I've been making up stories and creating with my sister since I was little but now that we're adults -and writers-, we've moved on to writing stories that coincide. It's not that we're writing a book together but we are writing books that are in the same series and storyline.

She writes adult novels and I write more toward young adults. We have different writing styles and different characters (though some of my characters make cameos in hers and vice versa) but it's the same storyline. Preternaturals are real and accepted as legal citizens, they interact with us the same way we do with each other and Preternaturals are the aristocrats or underdogs of society (depending on their type).

Collaborating can be the best or the worst thing for your writing career. It can also be the best or worst thing for your mind. There are a lot of things to consider when you collaborate. You need to consider your relationship with them, their work, your work, and writing styles just to name a few.

I've collaborated with three people and I can say that the sparks of creativity fly when you can bounce ideas off your friends (and family). I absolutely loved being able to talk about my books, compare ideas, and just talk with a fellow writer.

Thank you to my fellow writers, Cassie Spiller, Anthony Sims, and Joy Edwards. Thank you for all the hours spent talking with me about my books and helping me when I get stuck in a rut. Thank you so much!

Go be awesome,
Jenny Williams.

Wednesday, April 5, 2017

Story Snippet: A Broken Redeemer III

The room went completely silent as Zeb stared at Alex as if he’d lost his mind. In the history of the Council Court Room, not one defendant had been called on by the District Attorney. Mister Sky nodded his consent and Zeb walked over to me. He led me to the witness stand and Helena accompanied him. She held the scriptures out to me and I set my right hand on it then raised my left hand.

“Do you agree to tell, the Honest to Maker truth and nothing but the truth, Maker damn you?” She asked her grey-green eyes boring a hole into my soul. I took a shaking breath and stared back.

“I do.”

“Please state your first and last name for the record,” She continued with a straight face. I stiffened and felt Darkness glaring at me from across the room.

“Kalista Angelic.”

“You may be seated,” she snipped before walking off. I sat down, smoothing my skirt, and turning to the amber brown-eyed gaze of Alexander Tragedy, my step-grandfather.

“Kalista, what did you on Sunday Night?” He asked as he stepped into the middle of the room. I forced my eyes to stay on his and my head to remain up, showing no emotion at the question.

“I went to the Lucky Chimera for dinner at around five-thirty. I left with (Removed for Spoilers) near six-fifteen. We went to the Library, where I checked out a book about the Outskirts for my trip. We entered the Library around six-thirty and left at seven due to the high traffic of people grabbing books for their exams,” I began my tale as Anya stiffened behind Alex. Darkness leaned forward and whispered something to her. She glared back at him as I continued, “He and I proceeded to the Death Demon Sector to spar in the basement of a friend’s house. I left at precisely nine o’clock. I teleported home.”

A murmur rose from the crowd and I stiffened. I clenched my hands into the folds of the skirt, behind the railing and Ramah slammed his gavel down on the podium.

“There will be order in this court or I will have it cleared out of everyone but the witnesses,” He yelled, unleashing his anger on them. I shifted uncomfortably and tried my best not to look at Darkness whose smile I could see as I watched Alex turn to me again.

“Do you have the book you took out?” Alex asked, turning their attention to him. I shifted and glanced at Lashka. She inclined her head to the table of evidence and spoke telepathically. It’s item number forty-three in the evidence lot. I turned to Alex and gestured toward the evidence table.

“I wasn’t allowed to grab anything this morning but A friend managed to bring the book. It’s item number forty-three,” I explained and he walked over to pick it up. He removed it from the evidence bag and flipped to the back of the book where it had been stamped yesterday.

He shut the book, nodded, replaced it, and picked up another bag that held a dagger. My eyes widened and my ears began to ring. The blade was made of flint and the hilt was onyx making the eighteen-inch dagger completely black.

“I assume that you recognize this weapon,” he implied and I nodded. He brought it over to me and held the bag out to me. I took it from him and flipped it over in my hands.

“Its blade is made of flint and the handle is onyx. It’s perfectly balanced,” I spouted off facts, holding one finger under the blade and up next to the handle. “I used it and its twin blade while we were sparring. It was (Removed for Spoilers) masterpiece. He forged it himself,” I explained handing the bag back to him. He took the blade from me and walked back over to the table.

“Was that what they used to kill him?” I asked voice cracking as my emotions rolled over me like waves, threatening to drown me. More murmurs rose from the crowd and Ramah had to slam his gavel down again. They stopped and He turned to Mister Sky.

“This court will take a recess to dismiss any onlookers and media. We will reconvene in an hour to talk pick this up, at which time Miss Angelic will be back on the stand,” Ramah declared slamming the gavel back down. Zeb jogged over to me and I watched Darkness walk out of the room with Anya and Ephraim in tow. What are they doing with him?

Saturday, April 1, 2017

Writer's Life: March/April 2017

I'm home again and so happy to have good, reliable internet so here at sit writing today's blog when I remember: It's time for another Goals blog. March was productive in some ways and definitely not in others. I feel like I've taken one step forward and three steps back. So, let's do this.

  1. Health Goals:

    "To figure out what's going on with my body..." This one I've done as much as I and in a month. I've seen three of my usual doctors and gotten several tests done to try and find the culprit but have none of the results yet. Just a lot of prayer and waiting involved at this stage.
  2. Book Goals:

    "Getting book one done and at least 25K of book II." This took an interesting turn. I decided when I hit 170 K of "Book I" to split it in two. This turned out to be for the best as there was a split in the middle of the book where months passed and also way too much I still had to write. Due to this split, Book I is done and Book II has almost 105K words, I'm also in the closing chapters.
  3. Blog Goals:

    I really didn't have any Blog goals this month, due to the inconvenience of unreliable internet at camp. So, can we call this done?
Two out of three isn't bad at all and technically it is a two and a half out of three since I've done all I can until my next appointments in April and June. Alright, now for the next step, Making more goals. 

  1. Health Goals:

    A) To relax and not stress about the tests and their results.
    B) To make a couple tough decisions by the end of the month for the one doc.
  2. Book Goals:

    Finish Book II and get at least three to five chapters into Book III before the month is out.
  3. Blog Goals:

    To post on time (or early) for the whole month. Easier said than done.
That's really it. There isn't too many but this quarter is almost over and then I'll review this quarters goals as a whole at the end of this month. There's nothing else to say and nothing really inspiring but this blog is always the boring one anyhow. So, as a thank you, here is a picture of Kalista from a Born Angel. 

She has a bruise over her right eye from sparing in Gym class. 

Now, Go be awesome,
Jenny Williams