Category Archives: Interviews

Demise On Old Blackwash Road

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Candle

Julie and Steve
In teenage lust angst
Lantern lit, hidden nook
Atrocities attacked ere consummation
Sending them heedlessly running along
On Old Blackwash Road

Julie was screaming
Until her voice decayed
Steve pulled ahead
No thought of her pumping away
Julie tried to catch up
Down Old Blackwash Road

If words could take aim
Steve would have heard her pleas
Curses tossed through him
Voiceless, running still
Left alone under moonlight
Fever pitch dashing on Old Blackwash Road

Steve's mind was blanker
Except for grinding terror
Pushing himself faster on
It was primal, fierce 
As his lungs began to seize
Slowing on Old Blackwash Road

Julie haven found above
Crawling up an ancient oak
She saw Steve plunge to the ground
Closed her eyes ridigidly shut
Prayed, then dug her nails into the wood
Surrounding Old Blackwash Road

Steve's wails turned raw
Before they abruptly terminated
Julie clung for more than her worth
Tree sap glued her to her spot
Unaware of it till morning light
Dawn awakening Old Blackwash Road

Time moved through Julie
Frozen to the spot
Heat of the day came fiercely 
Freeing her from tree secretion
Setting her down upon
Empty Old Blackwash Road

She fled the scene half naked
The ground was bare of Steve
Her throat hurt as she sobbed aloud
No tears were left inside her
As she stumbled upon Route 40
Connected to Old Blackwash Road

Julie withdrew and hid inside
While the Sheriff did his best
Steve was never found, even a tiny bit
"It's happened before," they all knew for true
Julie shrugged. What could she say or do
About Old Blackwash Road?







RevitalWriters: Critique. Done. Write.

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REVITALWRITERS

A WEEKLY COHORT FOR WRITERS

This is what has kept me very busy over the last couple of weeks. Michael Grant, Artie Ohanian, and I have put together a Virtual Writer’s Group. RevitalWriters is for writers of any style or genre (poetry; fiction; non-fiction; memoir/biography; etc.) who want/need support for their WIP (Work(s) In Progress). All this leading to achieving a finished manuscript to send off to agents and/or publishers.

The sessions will run every Friday night, from 7:00 pm to 9:00 pm, EST. If you are in any other time zone, if you’d like to become part of the cohort, let us know.

Our Goal: To offer support, encouragement, and constructive critique in a safe space.

We are not a prompt/generative writing group that you join when the planets align. Our intention is that writers serious about their craft get what they need to to finish and submit.

For full details of how each session will be run, visit RevitalWriters.  You’ll find our guidelines, About page, contact information, and upcoming Resource For Writers and Blog pages.

I hope you can join us in our first group meeting at RevitalWriters Session.  Friday, July 10, 2020, from 7:00 pm to 9:00 pm, EST.

PLEASE DO NOT HESITATE TO CONTACT US FOR MORE INFORMATION:

RevitalWriters@gmail.com

I hope to see you there.

 

April is Coming

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#AtoZChallenge 2020 badge

Yes, I have signed up for the A to Z Blog Challenge for this year. I started my blog in 2011 a few months before April sprang on me. I went for it, and it was one of the best things I had done. Happy to have joined.

Except for a couple of skip years, it’s been fun and agony to write (almost) daily through the month. 26 posts, Sundays off.

It’s a challenge (the title says so) but, in my opinion, well worth it. Fiction, Non-Fiction, Poetry, Essays, photos, recipes, critiques, How To…, etc. Whatever your blog is about, join in. Great way to discover other blogs, make friends (I have), and for others to find your blog. I’ve gained many followers through this.

Here’s the link: http://www.a-to-zchallenge.com/

Not sure what I’ll write about yet. I’ll figure it out.

If you join, please leave me a comment below with your blog link attached. You might gain some followers before the whole thing starts.

Theme Reveal #AtoZChallenge 2020 badge

#AtoZChallenge 2020 badge

KingCon: Haverstraw Library’s annual comic convention! Saturday, August 3

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I have been honored to be a panelist at a

Modern Speculative Writing Program!!!

Speculative Fiction is a genre of fiction that encompasses works in which the setting is other than the real world, involving supernatural, futuristic, or other imagined elements. It includes Science Fiction, Fantasy, Horror, Magic Realism, and so much more. Speculative fiction writing takes the imagination as far as it can go, and then some.

Located in beautiful Rockland County (less than an hour northwest of NYC), the Haverstraw King’s Daughter’s Public Library is holding their annual comic convention, KingCon. Yes, the pun fits.

Taylor Voght, author and MFA at Manhattanville College, will be our moderator as we delve into what makes Speculative Writing so attractive, contemplate the nature of sequential narration, and share what inspires us to write as we do.  Sitting beside me will be noted authors and editors Michelle Levy and Gerrit Overeem.

This is Haverstraw’s SDCC and NYCC, just without the mile-long lines!!

I hope you can make it. If so, stop by after the panel and say ‘Hi!’

SATURDAY, AUGUST 3, 2019: KingCon!!

Haverstraw King’s Daughters Public Library
10 W. Ramapo Road
Garnerville, NY 10923

Modern Speculative Writing

1 pm – 1:30 pm, Community Room
For all ages. Speculative fiction requires using your imagination to create entirely new worlds, and it has never been more popular! In this panel, learn from science fiction and fantasy authors Taylor Vogt, Stuart Nager, Michelle Levy, and Gerrit Overeem on how to write your own speculative fiction novel. All attendees will leave with the tools to write their own story!

KingCon2019EventsFlyer

Witch’s Moon (A to Z Blog Challenge)

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**To start from the very beginning: From the Case Files of Inspector Khazarian Rovas

**To read the first part of this story line: Venus Ascending

Witch

“Witch’s Moon”

The Case Files of Inspector Khazarian Rovas

Sargent Detective Gil Katsaros sat uneasily on the couch. He had come straight from work, filing the information he had gathered in the last few days. Mr. Palmont was recovering from the attack by John Peters; so far, no new sightings of the fugitive were at hand. He informed Rovas that the boy, Gerald, started to relax when he was assured that his father was not going to die. Mrs. Palmont agreed to interviewing the boy when Gerald could.

Across from him sat Berrak Rovas and her niece, Kristina. Tina, he kept having to remind herself, which she did every time he called her by her full name. Gil still felt guilty about holding back the story of her niece, and, more so, the information about the girl herself. Berrak was holding Tina’s hands; Rovas was behind him, leaning against the wall by the window.

“Tina, please, I know this is hard, but the Sargent Detective needs…”

“Gil. I’ve always called him Gil.”

He sighed. “Fine. Gil…please tell him what you told us.” He nodded at Gil, who had his notepad and pen out. Tina took a deep breath in, held it, and let it out slowly.

Tina had been aware of the man who committed the murders. The other girls in the house did keep her away from him. Lily, the madame, told her he liked it rough and, knowing that Tina wasn’t up for any of that, tried to make sure she stayed out of sight. It didn’t always work out, although it should have. He had a set schedule: he always made a reservation for the night of a full moon.

One night, she got bored, and hungry, in the attic while he was there. Thinking he’d be occupied by this point, she snuck downstairs to make tea and a snack. He was sitting in the parlor playing with Elise’s hair, her fingers in his mouth. It looked like he was biting on them.

“The red head was Elise, yes?

Tina nodded and continued. She shivered a bit as she told them of the way this john looked her up and down. He tried to call her over, but Lily interceded by catching his attention. Tina ran upstairs; she got a huge lecture from everyone the next day.

“Did his name ever come up?”

“They called him Vic. That’s all. No last name.”

“I made another mistake one other time: I had to go…y’know. The bathrooms were downstairs, and I couldn’t wait. He saw me that time as I came out of the attic door. I looked, but…they had just come up the stairs as I…” she was getting excited and tried to calm herself down. “Elise rushed him into her room and closed the door. Fast and loud.”

Gil looked at her, then Berrak, who was, at this point, staring at him. Rovas interjected: “Tina, I know this is not easy. I do understand why you did not tell us this before,” keeping to himself “but I wish you had, dammit.”

“What about that night?” Gil prodded.

“Yeah. I was warned he was going to be there, Elise again. His favorite. Lily threatened me to stay out of sight. I was in my room, reading, when Lily came in with a tray of tea. She didn’t want me going downstairs for anything.”

“Gil, yes, the only prints we found were the unknown ones, which we believe came from Tina. It seems Lily liked to play the madame part to the hilt, like in an old time brothel. White gloves and all. We found the garments scattered around, but it wasn’t outright obvious at the time.”

Tina nodded. “Anyways, she left the tea, closed the door, and I poured myself a cup. Next thing I know I was in the back seat of your car with the two of you up front. Didn’t mean to scare  you with my screams, but…”

Gil smiled at that memory. It took awhile to calm her down.

“All right, well. Vic, most likely Victor. I’ll have to go have a look at her records. There were a list of initials, with code for what the repeaters liked; thanks to your deciphering what they meant. I’ll look to see if we can get at least the initial of the last name out of this and take it from there.”

“Gil, if you need any help…”

“Yes, Inspector,” he smiled again. “I think I can manage this. We may have a break in this after all. Tina, I want to get a sketch artist with you, see if you can give us something more we can use.”

She nodded, getting up as Gil did. She was giving him a hug. Rovas moved away from the wall and crossed the window.

A bullet shattered through the window.

Berrak screamed.

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“The Case Files of Inspector Khazarian Rovas” is my theme for this year. Cold case files for the good inspector to delve into, trying to make sense &/or solve. As this has progressed, it’s become something more for me. I wasn’t planning to do such a connected story line, but it’s the way it has worded out for me. I hope you’ve been enjoying this, mistakes and all.

As to the Blogging from A to Z challenge, I’ll let the words of Arlee Bird (founder of said challenge) tell you what this is all about:

The brainchild of Arlee Bird, at Tossing it Out, the A to Z Challenge is posting every day in April except Sundays (we get those off for good behavior.) And since there are 26 days, that matches the 26 letters of the alphabet. On April 1, blog about something that begins with the letter “A.” April 2 is “B,” April 4 is “C,” and so on. You can use a theme for the month or go random – just as long as it matches the letter of the alphabet for the day.

The A to Z Challenge is a great way to get into the blogging habit and make new friends.

So, join me (and the over 1300 other blogs involved) starting on Friday, April 1, 2016 and ending on Saturday, April 30th. Comments and such are always welcome. I hope you enjoy the stories.

Unbridled Fury (A to Z Blog Challenge)

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**To start from the very beginning: From the Case Files of Inspector Khazarian Rovas

**The first parts of this story line: Red Canvas, Still Life in Scarlet, and Tea and Soliciting

Unbrideled

“Unbridled Fury”

The Case Files of Inspector Khazarian Rovas

Berrak was in the back seat of the car while Gil drove. Khazarian at first insisted she sit up front, but she refused three times. He had tried to join her in the back, but she wanted the space, as much space three people in a sedan could afford. Rovas sat up front, drumming his fingers on the door rest. She needed to think.

The house offered nothing new to any of them. No clues, which no one expected, but especially no new insight. It was frustrating to her on so many levels. She understood why Zarian kept the secret of her late brother’s child, Kristina the product of an affair Berk had had while still married to Eva. She was mad at Berk and upset with Zarian, with feelings of anguish for a niece she did not know until that day she had.

Gil’s phone rang. Rovas clicked it on and held it up for Gil to hear. “Could you hold on,” Gil’s face whitened, “Sir, put it on speaker.” Rovas did. “OK, please repeat what you said. Inspector Rovas is in the car with me.”

Gil put his foot down on the pedal while Chief Inspector Dole grudgingly, Rovas heard in his voice, said: “John Peters tried to kidnap the Palmont boy again. The boy’s father is on his way to the hospital; Mr. Palmont had picked Gerald up from school. Peters was waiting by the car with a gun. He tried to snatch the boy but Mr. Palmont rushed him. The gun went off in the melee. Gerald broke free and ran to the school as the school guard and other parents were running towards the scene. Peters fled.”

“We’re on our way back,” Rovas told Dole. “How bad is it for the father?”

“Not good, I’m afraid. A lot of blood loss, but one of the parents on the scene was an EMT. She was able to help until the ambulance showed.”

“What school again?” Gil asked. After the Chief Inspector read off the information again Rovas hung up. “Damn,” Gil muttered.

“What, Gil?” Berrak asked, still leaning over the front seat, her arm around her husband.

“The EMT. I’ll bet you it was Jill. Her daughter goes to that school. I knew the Palmont’s moved for protection, but I didn’t know which schools.”

The car flew on the road. Inside, all three were alone in their thoughts.

*****

After checking the scene at the school, Rovas wanted to go to the hospital to talk with Mr. Palmont. Jill was there when they arrived; she was with her daughter, Sara, and Mrs. Palmont and her children. Gil went over to them, getting a hug from Jill and a “mooommmm” from Sara. Rovas and Berrak briefly spoke with Mr. Palmont, then checked in with Janice and April. Gerald was curled up in a knot and pressed against his mother. She shook her head: it was not the time for questioning.

Gil said he would follow as Rovas and Berrak went to find Mr. Palmont. Berrak stopped outside of the room, holding onto her husband’s arm.

“When this is done, I want you to promise me something.”

He nodded.

“I want to meet Kristina.”

“Berrak, I don’t think…”

“That is the problem: in this instance, you weren’t thinking. I want…no, I will meet with Kristina.”

Rovas looked at her, arguing within himself. Looking in her eyes, he could only nod.

They went into the room hand in hand.
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“The Case Files of Inspector Khazarian Rovas” is my theme for this year. Cold case files for the good inspector to delve into, trying to make sense &/or solve. As this has progressed, it’s become something more for me. I wasn’t planning to do such a connected story line, but it’s the way it has worded out for me. I hope you’ve been enjoying this, mistakes and all.

As to the Blogging from A to Z challenge, I’ll let the words of Arlee Bird (founder of said challenge) tell you what this is all about:

The brainchild of Arlee Bird, at Tossing it Out, the A to Z Challenge is posting every day in April except Sundays (we get those off for good behavior.) And since there are 26 days, that matches the 26 letters of the alphabet. On April 1, blog about something that begins with the letter “A.” April 2 is “B,” April 4 is “C,” and so on. You can use a theme for the month or go random – just as long as it matches the letter of the alphabet for the day.

The A to Z Challenge is a great way to get into the blogging habit and make new friends.

So, join me (and the over 1600 other blogs involved) starting on Friday, April 1, 2016 and ending on Saturday, April 30th. Comments and such are always welcome. I hope you enjoy the stories.

Janes’s Addictive (A to Z Blog Challenge)

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**To start from the beginning: From the Case Files of Inspector Khazarian Rovas

Janes

“Jane’s Addictive”

The Case Files of Inspector Khazarian Rovas

“So, seven years ago a call went into 911. A woman saying she found five dead people. She gave the address: a house in the suburbs, the bodies were in the basement. The call came from that house. She hung up without giving her name. When the first police arrived, the only thing greeting them were the dead. I was called in-I doubt you remember this, but it was one of those middle of the night calls I got far too often.” Rovas looked at his wife, knowing the answer, but, still.

“No, I don’t.”

“There were no stab wounds, no gun shots, no strangulation marks. Each victim-three young men, two women-were in various positions on the floor in a not quite semi-circle. They were dressed. Around and on them were ashes. It was later determined they had been smoking marijuana, but it had something extra in it: a very high grade pure heroin was mixed in. An ‘A-Bomb’ or “Atom Bomb, in street slang.”

“Either one not bad enough for them?,” Berrak asked.

“That’s the thing. Everyone we spoke to said that all five eschewed the use of harder drugs. They saw the marijuana as nothing more dangerous than liquor. Funny thing, this was a meditation group, something they began in college. We even found their dealer…well, he came forward, actually, at a friend’s urging. He swore he never sold anything but pot. Investigations could not find anything to the contrary. He did some time, but not for murder in any degree.”

Berrak had picked up the file and was studying it, finding the points that Khazarian mentioned. The points he glossed over weren’t worth bringing up, she agreed, as she read them. “Good people, never hurt anyone, against hard drugs, never a problem…Zarian, interview after interview, they all say the same things.”

“Yes, even the dealer”

“So, the woman who called?”

“No trace. There majority of the fingerprints in the basement were of the five. There were assorted others: the parents who owned the house, who had been away for the weekend that it occurred. Some neighbors, other family members. We interviewed them all. Most of the women whose traces we found had solid alibis; the few who didn’t were investigated seemed to have no grudge with anyone who died. No skeletons in the closets that we could find. No motive.”

“Motive. So, Zarian, you think this was murder?”

“Yes. Call it a policeman’s gut instincts, but I feel this was more than buying a bad dose. If it had been on the streets, we would have had more deaths coming in, We didn’t.”

Rovas moved his chair to Berrak’s side. The two of them poured over the information they had in the files. After going over the information, and one or the other throwing out ideas to the other, Berrak got up to chart the information they had on the white board that they had brought in on the “Old Lace” case.

It soon filled up, spilling over to the nearest bulletin board. The pictures of the five dead were at the top: Rebecka Larsen, Robert Larsen, Michelle DeBois, Ernesto “Ernie” Perez, and Edward White. Below and to the side were lists of relatives, friends, the dealer, and any and all information the two of them agreed was relevant.

 

Rovas got up and stared at the board. He studied each area, went over the details methodically, looking for connections he might have missed seven years ago. Berrak joined him, starting at the other end from her husband. They met in the middle, Berrak passing in front of Khazarian. He grabbed her around her waist, leaning in to nuzzle her neck.

She lightly smacked his hands, smiling at the boards, which immediately took her out of the contact. “Zarian, this is not the place. These people…they don’t have any chance for any happiness anymore. Haven’t had, in a long time.” She pivoted around, gave him a kiss, and slithered out of his embrace.

Rovas smiled, continuing on his inspection.

Finally, they returned to their chairs. Berrak took a pad of paper and began to write down a list.

Rovas tried to look over her shoulder. Before he could ask, Berrak said: “This is a list of the women who did no have an alibi at the time of the murders. Yes, I think so as well.” she said. “After dinner, I think some computer time can hopefully give us some current information.”

“And tomorrow,” Rovas added, “we’ll hopefully find them and have a word. I’ll see if Gil will be available.”

“Good.”

“Yes, good.”
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“The Case Files of Inspector Khazarian Rovas” is my theme for this year. Cold case files for the good inspector to delve into, trying to make sense &/or solve. My plan is to use a variety of genres within this overarching theme to allow me to play and, of course, challenge myself. Some cases might bleed into another case. Most will be stand alone. We’ll see, won’t we?

As to the Blogging from A to Z challenge, I’ll let the words of Arlee Bird (founder of said challenge) tell you what this is all about:

The brainchild of Arlee Bird, at Tossing it Out, the A to Z Challenge is posting every day in April except Sundays (we get those off for good behavior.) And since there are 26 days, that matches the 26 letters of the alphabet. On April 1, blog about something that begins with the letter “A.” April 2 is “B,” April 4 is “C,” and so on. You can use a theme for the month or go random – just as long as it matches the letter of the alphabet for the day.

The A to Z Challenge is a great way to get into the blogging habit and make new friends.

So, join me (and the over 1800 other blogs involved) starting on Friday, April 1, 2016 and ending on Saturday, April 30th. Comments and such are always welcome. I hope you enjoy the stories.

One Lovely Blog Award…Yes, It Is Too

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It was the 2012 Memorial Day Weekend, and I get a pleasant surprise: I have been honored TWICE with the One Lovely Blog Award, as passed on to me by Allan Douglas of Simple Life Prattle and The Write Stuff (and fellow Triberr buddy).

How could he bestow this upon me twice? One is for here,Tale Spinning, the other is for my Non-Fiction blog, BornStoryteller.

The “rules” are simple:

  1. Thank the person who awarded the award (Thank you Allan) and link back to their blogs: Click HERE and HERE
  2. Tell SEVEN things about yourself that no one knows (but two blogs… 14.. but…14? TMI)
  3. Pass on the award to (15) blogs you follow and like/admire/wish they were yours.
    1. I’ll do as many as I can.

So…

Seven Things :

  1. I’ve lived on the East Coast of the USA all my life, but have visited more than half of the states now.
  2. I read SciFi, Fantasy, Thrillers, Mysteries, and then the occasional other book. Existentialism, anyone?
  3. I wish the lyrics to John Lennon’s song Imagine were achievable.
  4. People find me unfocused in my field of interest (the arts); I find myself versatile.
  5. I believe in ghosts, but not vampires and werewolves. Especially not shimmery vampires.
  6. I like both cats and dogs; I do NOT like fish, as pets or otherwise.
  7. I have never gone to a demolition derby or a monster truck thingy; I’d like to, at least once.

In no particular order, blogs I pass this along to, and you should give them a look/leave a comment (tell ’em I said Hi):

Woman Wielding Words

The Eagle’s Aerial Perspective

Ghost Cities

My Rivendell

ZenCherry

The View Outside

David Powers King

Cherie Reich-Author

No Wasted Ink

Sweepy Jean Explores the (Webby) World

Daily (W)Rite

Raising Amelie

Sonia Rumzi

A French Yummy Mummy in London

Rock the Kasbah

The Grant of Malice (Evil Genius Blogfest)

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The Grant of Malice

Mr. Donald Furrows, Human Resources Assistant Manager, shifted in his plush leather chair, shuffled the papers in his hand a bit, put them down on the mahogany desk, and put his right index finger into his tight white shirt collar, pulling slightly, then pulling it out. He glanced up, then down, cleared his throat three times, turned two pages over, pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, folded his hands, fingers intertwined.

cough “So, Ms. Swathorn…you’re applying for the…the…”

“Evil Genius Grant. Yes, I am.” Cynthia Swathorn crossed her legs. She noticed Furrows look at them: she had worn her favorite short black dress and back seamed stockings, knowing the effect her long legs had on most men, and a number of women.

He looked up, and then she continued. “Only men keep getting the grant and title. It’s discriminatory. You hear about Lex, Dr. Moreau, The Brain, Rick, Boris…on and on, but…Mr. Furrows, I am a genius. And I am most definitely evil.”

She leaned towards the desk. The low cut top of her dress caused Mr. Furrows another uncomfortable moment of leering. The feeling was extended much further when he raised his eyes slowly and saw the malevolent smile on her face, and the glint in her eyes.

cough “Feminine wiles do not an Evil Genius make, Ms. Swathorn.”

“Cyn. Call me Cyn. I like the cheesiness of it, and it does evoke so much. Wouldn’t you agree, Mr. Furrows?” She sat back in her chair and recrossed her legs.  “Another cookie? I had time to kill this morning, so I baked. A little bribery?” She coughed a small laugh.

“No thank you, Ms. Swathorn…Cyn,” he quickly amended. “I have looked over your grant proposal, your Villainous Vitae is extremely impressive-excellent schools, each and every one. Recommendations from many of our past recipients…but, it’s just never been done, Ms. Swathorn. Discriminatory, maybe, but we’ve had problems in the past. No one seems to take a female evil genius seriously.”

“Notice the red hair?”

He nodded.

“Serious. Deadly serious. I was blond. No one takes blonds seriously. I know you noticed my figure. All deceptive maneuvers. Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men? I do…I certainly do. I also know that you’re protected from actual physical threats, and I was thoroughly searched before I entered this room. I gave the two guards a cookie each for a job well done.

“What you don’t know is that my grant proposal, while really well thought out, was just a lark. I knew it was good enough to get me in here. I’m that smart. It’s just a bit…much. Tunneling systems; fault lines; untold death and destruction: the good ol’ North America split into two…easy-peasy.

“So, the cookies?” Cyn leaned in close to the desk, resting her elbows on the glossy wooden top and cupping her chin in her hands. “You’ve heard the adage that ‘the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach?’ Well, it’s also a great way to introduce something special.”

Furrows’ eyes bulged.

“No, no poison…that would be old hat, and unworthy of the grant monies. You’ve probably noticed your stomach doing little gurgling noises, yes?”

He nodded.

“I call it Gorp. Sounds like Gorp, so…” she smiled. “Here’s the deal: Gorp plays havoc with your body, once it ruins your digestive track. The bathroom will be your buddy. Then, if not appeased, Gorp goes bonkers. Aches and pains like you can believe. Right now it’s tummy time.”

“We’ll find an antidote. We have the best evil minds at our call.” Gorp.

“Well, yeah…you do, but…they all got a package of cookies yesterday. Special trial offer, ‘CynFully Good Bakes’. I would say most, if not all, the top evil doers (and some of the “good guys”)  are ensconced on their porcelain goddess right now.

Now, here’s the thing: I put in a genetic ‘blender’ that keeps Gorp morphing, changing as it goes along. No set pattern after the first bout, no repeat loops, nothing lasting long enough to devise a fix. The subjects I tried it on: five days, six days max. Then…bye bye. Sign the grant paper, Mr. Furrows. Sign it.

Now.”

Cyn leaned back, adjusting her dress, top and bottom, and recrossed her legs.

Gorp “…and if I do…you have a fix for this?” Gorp

She nodded. He signed both copies and stamped them with the official seal.

Dropping a small red tablet onto the desk (having retrieved it from the hem of her dress, one place the guards were not very through with checking), Cyn got up, took her copy, and smiled as she folded it up and put it in her suitcase.

“Oh, Mr. Furrows,” she said, as she had reached and opened his office door, turning back towards him: “You’ll need a new pill in five days. Sorry, but the antidote doesn’t seem to last very long. Gorp likes to hang around. If you’d like another one, and ones after that, you might want to consider putting me up for the Lifetime Achievement Award. All that money coming in, year after year…and a plaque too. I’ve always wanted a commemorative plaque. Hear from you soon?”

She blew him a kiss.  Laughing a very righteous sinister laugh (the guards and Furrows thought to themselves), Cyn walked out with deadly precision.

Gorp

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Author’s Notes:

The Evil Genius Blogfest is the brainchild of a young lady who only goes by the handle The Golden Eagle. Her blog, The Eagle’s Aerial Perspective is celebrating it’s Two Year Anniversary today (February 27, 2012). Quite an accomplishment, and a blog well worth connecting to. There are others who are participating in this very fun blogfest: click HERE to visit the linky list of other Evil Genius stories.

Happy Anniversary, GE!

Bwwaahhahaaaaaaaa…ahem.

OH…if you’ve gotten this far down, I’ll also be involved in The AtoZ Blogfest that runs every April. Last year was my first foray and it also really set me on the road that Tale Spinning has led me. They are looking to get 1,000 people to sign up; I was in the 1100’s last year. It was an amazing month, and I got to “meet” some great writers.

I also met my (now) sweetie, the woman I adore and love,  through it, and I couldn’t be happier.

Give it a shot. If you have a writer hiding deep down inside you, this will help set it free. Sign up by clicking HERE

Sonnet: Where Shall We Go? (plus: #REN3 side contest winner)

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Where Shall We Go?

Where shall we go, my friend, on open sea?

Taking a journey,  together alone,

Looking forward to what we could so be

Seeing how far, how soon,  we match in tone.

No one to rush us headfirst into storm

We move as we need to; no right; no wrong.

Comfortable, we, no need to perform

Expectations tossed; our closeness is strong.

But, clouds will darken, oh yes, sad  but true,

Trying to unravel the good cares sown

Escalating fears, making old seem new

Setting us off course, untrue…ill winds blown.

O, stay the long path alongside of me.

O, take what is offered, no strings, deeply.

**********************************************************************************

…AND THE WINNER IS…

I asked for suggestions, created a poll, people voted on what those suggestions…and…we have a winnah!

The Compass w/Hidden Weapon, as suggested by Richard Hughes of Writing and Living blog got the nods in the poll voting.

And..since this is my gig, and I can kinda do what I want…the runner up in #’s with six votes (to Richard’s eight) will be the hidden weapon: Sonja of Chapter by Chapter gets a nod for suggesting a Small Glass Knife!

For those not in the know, and for those known who do know, and all those in-between, I offered a contest to my readers and (especially) the amazing writers of The Rule of Three blogfest. As a co-host, (Damyanti Biswas, Lisa Vooght and JC Martin my partners in crime) of this blogfest, I have a wee bit of leeway to do a few things extra. So…I ran a side contest due to an opening I had in the last part of my serialized story: Doc Stovepipe’s Medicine Show.

I had an item given to one character from another, “something cold and hard.” Nothing specific, not a good writing (or improv) thing to do.

Thank you Richard & Sonja,  and all others who submitted (and for those who voted).  I will now attempt  to finish my story using this item to help Gid…or, not. Yes, I have not written the story yet. Haven’t even thought about it. Really.

Richard & Sonja  will get a nod, somehow, in the story, will appear in the afterword, AND…I will be doing an email interview with Richard that will appear on my other blog, BornStoryteller.