Today I'm especially pleased to have Keri Stevens here on my blog, telling about her terrific new release Stone Kissed. I've asked her a few interesting questions, to learn how she arrived at such a great idea for her book.
What inspired you to give Delia, your witch, the fascinating supernatural behavior of talking to statues?
In 2008 I was in Manhattan for a week-long folkloric dance seminar. We danced six-to-eight hours per day, and even though she was in her late 60s, Morocco worked our tails off. At the end of the day, I’d walk back to my hotel, doing what every tourist is warned not to do: Looking up and around and soaking in the sights. I noticed all of the carved faces over the buildings and in my exhausted, dehydrated altered state, I began imagining what the statues would say about the last few hundred years. Entire conversations (none of which actually made it into Stone Kissed) riffed through my loopy brain. But the core idea stuck.
Are you a big art lover, or were you required to research classic sculptures or the job of a stone conservator?
I am a lover of funerary art. I’m fascinated by the way we memorialize others (or, if we have enough power and money, memorialize ourselves.) But yes—research took me on all sorts of tax-deductible trips to graveyards and museums. I’m always of a split-mind when it comes to research. When I’m writing I feel like I need to back out and go do more of it. When I’m researching I feel like I should be home, on my butt, drafting or editing.
If you could meet one character from any literary work for dinner, who would it be and how would the evening go?
I’d have dinner with Claire Fraser from Gabaldon’s Outlander series. I’d pour all sorts of alcohol into her, and then I’d get the REAL truth about Jamie. I strongly suspect I’d find out he ain’t all that.
(Note to Marsha—you may have to moderate comments. I expect outrage and vitriol now.)
Bio: KERI STEVENSwas raised in southern Missouri and has lived in Germany, Arizona, North Carolina and Kentucky. Along the way she acquired degrees in writing and German, a romance hero of her very own, three sons, two miracle cats and a mutt who licks her when she speaks German. Her husband gave Keri her first romance novel to read, which unleashed a passion. Several years and a couple thousand novels later, Keri took up her laptop and began writing her own books. By day, she is a mild-mannered yoga and Oriental dance instructor. By night she creates mayhem and magic in small-town paranormal romance novels like her award-winning debut, Stone Kissed, from Carina Press.
When Delia Forrest talks to statues, they talk back. She is, after all, the last of the Steward witches.
After an arsonist torches her ancestral home with her estranged father still inside, Delia is forced to sell the estate to pay his medical bills. Her childhood crush, Grant Wolverton, makes a handsome offer for Steward House, vowing to return it to its former glory. Delia agrees, as long as he’ll allow her to oversee the restoration.
Working so closely with Grant, Delia finds it difficult to hide her unique talent—especially when their growing passion fuels her abilities.
But someone else lusts after both her man and the raw power contained in the Steward land. Soon, Delia finds herself fighting not just for Grant’s love, but for both their lives…
Here's another six sentences from my upcoming book Tears on a Tranquil Lake. The release date is this Tuesday!
In this scene the merman, Meris, is helping introduce the heroine, Ciel, to life as a mermaid.
He beckoned to the lead fairy with a gleam in his eyes.
She floated next to his head while he whispered to her. Zeta darted back to me and the six sprites encircled my hips. They magically lowered the point where my scale covering began, dipping it low in front to my pubic bone, and in back exposing the bare skin of my butt. Zeta turned back to Meris, looking for approval, while I felt my face heating with a blush from this new exposure.
I'm in the mood for pirates this week, since next Saturday is Tampa's Gasparilla Festival, a Mardi Gras-style, buccaneer celebration of the famed invasion of Jose Gaspar on the Bay.
This is a scene from the wild pirate hangout of Tortuga where Ciel, the mermaid, is being seduced by Raphael, the pirate captain--from my book Tears on a Tranquil Lake, releasing in 9 days. Yes, I'm excited!
Raphael corked a half-filled bottle of the finest Cuban blend to take along. He supported my tipsy frame, balanced unstably upon my spread tail fin, his arm wrapped securely around my waist. Together, we eased through the thick darkness of a cloudy night lit only by tavern lanterns. We picked our way carefully over and around more passed out mariners than we could count, as well as numerous clinched pairs of whores and buccaneers in varying states of undress. Hedonism and debauchery flourished, hidden under the shroud of night. The theme of the evening continued inside Raphael’s fine captain’s quarters.
Today I'm welcoming fellow Muse author Ginger Simpson as my guest, giving us information about her new story, A Wing and a Prayer.
Respect your Flight Attendant
Are you aware of the vast amount of training that flight attendants go through in order to qualify for their jobs? While you may consider they are only there to take your drink order, fetch you a blanket or pass out peanuts, the men and women who serve in this capacity play a vital role in the safety of those onboard.
While you might consider they only stroll the aisles to pick up trash, assure seatbacks are in their upright position and trays stowed and locked, actually they are required to conduct a cabin check every twenty-thirty minutes. They’re looking for anything out of the norm that might put you in jeopardy. Besides, babysitting passengers, they also do regular checks of the cockpit to assure that the pilot is alive and well. Think they are taking bathroom breaks too often? Not so, they’re checking to make sure the smoke detectors haven’t been tampered with.
Attendants are trained for all sorts of emergencies, from small injuries, anxiety attacks, and even on-board births. They are well instructed on how to prepare passengers in the case of water landings and how to utilize the emergency slides. Since 9/11, most have also received basic instructions on defense in the case of terrorist attacks or high-jacking. Next time you fly, you might want to consider that Allstate isn’t the only place where you’re in good hands.
Respect your Flight Attendant
Are you aware of the vast amount of training that flight attendants go through in order to qualify for their jobs? While you may consider they are only there to take your drink order, fetch you a blanket or pass out peanuts, the men and women who serve in this capacity play a vital role in the safety of those onboard.
While you might consider they only stroll the aisles to pick up trash, assure seatbacks are in their upright position and trays stowed and locked, actually they are required to conduct a cabin check every twenty-thirty minutes. They’re looking for anything out of the norm that might put you in jeopardy. Besides, babysitting passengers, they also do regular checks of the cockpit to assure that the pilot is alive and well. Think they are taking bathroom breaks too often? Not so, they’re checking to make sure the smoke detectors haven’t been tampered with.
Attendants are trained for all sorts of emergencies, from small injuries, anxiety attacks, and even on-board births. They are well instructed on how to prepare passengers in the case of water landings and how to utilize the emergency slides. Since 9/11, most have also received basic instructions on defense in the case of terrorist attacks or high-jacking. Next time you fly, you might want to consider that Allstate isn’t the only place where you’re in good hands.Respect your Flight Attendant
Are you aware of the vast amount of training that flight attendants go through in order to qualify for their jobs?
While you may consider they are only there to take your drink order, fetch you a blanket or pass out peanuts, the men and women who serve in this capacity play a vital role in the safety of those onboard.
While you might consider they only stroll the aisles to pick up trash, assure seatbacks are in their upright position and trays stowed and locked, actually they are required to conduct a cabin check every twenty-thirty minutes. They’re looking for anything out of the norm that might put you in jeopardy. Besides, babysitting passengers, they also do regular checks of the cockpit to assure that the pilot is alive and well. Think they are taking bathroom breaks too often? Not so, they’re checking to make sure the smoke detectors haven’t been tampered with.
Attendants are trained for all sorts of emergencies, from small injuries, anxiety attacks, and even on-board births. They are well instructed on how to prepare passengers in the case of water landings and how to utilize the emergency slides. Since 9/11, most have also received basic instructions on defense in the case of terrorist attacks or high-jacking. Next time you fly, you might want to consider that Allstate isn’t the only place where you’re in good hands.
Respect your Flight Attendant
Are you aware of the vast amount of training that flight attendants go through in order to qualify for their jobs? While you may consider they are only there to take your drink order, fetch you a blanket or pass out peanuts, the men and women who serve in this capacity play a vital role in the safety of those onboard.
While you might consider they only stroll the aisles to pick up trash, assure seatbacks are in their upright position and trays stowed and locked, actually they are required to conduct a cabin check every twenty-thirty minutes. They’re looking for anything out of the norm that might put you in jeopardy. Besides, babysitting passengers, they also do regular checks of the cockpit to assure that the pilot is alive and well. Think they are taking bathroom breaks too often? Not so, they’re checking to make sure the smoke detectors haven’t been tampered with.
Attendants are trained for all sorts of emergencies, from small injuries, anxiety attacks, and even on-board births. They are well instructed on how to prepare passengers in the case of water landings and how to utilize the emergency slides. Since 9/11, most have also received basic instructions on defense in the case of terrorist attacks or high-jacking. Next time you fly, you might want to consider that Allstate isn’t the only place where you’re in good hands.
Respect your Flight Attendant
Are you aware of the vast amount of training that flight attendants go through in order to qualify for their jobs? While you may consider they are only there to take your drink order, fetch you a blanket or pass out peanuts, the men and women who serve in this capacity play a vital role in the safety of those onboard.
While you might consider they only stroll the aisles to pick up trash, assure seatbacks are in their upright position and trays stowed and locked, actually they are required to conduct a cabin check every twenty-thirty minutes. They’re looking for anything out of the norm that might put you in jeopardy. Besides, babysitting passengers, they also do regular checks of the cockpit to assure that the pilot is alive and well. Think they are taking bathroom breaks too often? Not so, they’re checking to make sure the smoke detectors haven’t been tampered with.
Attendants are trained for all sorts of emergencies, from small injuries, anxiety attacks, and even on-board births. They are well instructed on how to prepare passengers in the case of water landings and how to utilize the emergency slides. Since 9/11, most have also received basic instructions on defense in the case of terrorist attacks or high-jacking. Next time you fly, you might want to consider that Allstate isn’t the only place where you’re in good hands.Blurb:
First Impressions aren’t always what they seem. Just ask Callie Corwin.
On a 747, Callie Corwin, buckles up for her first day as a flight attendant. The full jet carries two passengers who stand out from the others, but for totally different reasons. The handsome cowboy promises to be a pleasant distraction from her performance anxiety, but the dark-skinned gentleman a few rows back sends her up her hackles. She’s been trained on how to recognize a terrorist, and he fits the very description. Will she see jolly old England or the bottom of the sea?
Today’s Magical Monday feature is a discussion about this Friday’s January full moon, the Wolf Moon.
Amid the cold and deep snows of midwinter, wolf packs howled hungrily outside Indian villages.
While we think of this January as the first moon of the new year, in the natural world, however, it is the middle of the winter season, a time of death and desolation. For this reason, legends about the Wolf Moon are tales of both beginnings and endings.
I’ll recount a story from the Pawnee Indians of North America. Their name comes from the word pa’ni, meaning wolf, or tribe of the wolf. Their beliefs, legends, and ways of life honor the Wolf Spirit.
Tirawa, the Great Spirit, placed Wolf Spirit in the sky to watch out for the Moon /Evening Star. Tirawa also placed Wolf’s animal brothers - Black Bear, Mountain Lion, and Wild-Cat - next to him in attendance of the
Moon.
Great was the power of Wolf Spirit and his brothers in their place in the sky. They came to be known as Black Star, Yellow Star, White Star and Red Star. These Star beasts sent animals like themselves to live upon the earth. These same animal spirits were responsible for many of the Earth’s creations. They sent clouds, thunder, lightening, and the wind. They sent the cottonwood, elm, willow, and box elder. They created the four kinds of corn - black, yellow, white, and red. And it was these great and powerful spirits that guarded Evening Star each night.
As great as these Star Warriors were, the power of the Morning Star, the Sun, was greater. In time, the Sun vanquished Wolf Spirit and his three brothers. In honor of their greatness, Morning Star set Wolf Spirit and the other Star Beasts to hold up the four quarters of the universe.
Wolf Spirit, once guardian of the Moon, now stands as a devoted servant of the Sun. Yet his likeness upon the Earth is still heard howling when Evening Star rises in the sky. Could it be that the creation of Wolf Spirit yet remembers the ancient ties to the Moon? The lone wolf who sings his songs to the Moon is following the ways of his ancestors, who first helped the Moon ascend to her nightly station.
Other names for the January full moon include: Ice Moon; Old Moon; Moon after Yule; Frost Moon; Birch Moon; Moon of Beginning.
Correspondences:
Colors to improve personal healing: black (jet stone), white and blue-violet (the color of crocus flowers)
Plants: herbs and produce of the woodland are closely connected, and with nuts and cones, musk, marjoram and mimosa lending sweetness
The Wolf Moon will rise on Friday 19th at 21:21 GMT.
Although we don’t have wolves in my neighborhood, I’ll be listening for coyotes and any wild ancestral spirits from pet doggies that may bring out a howl or two.
This week's Six Sentence Sunday is one last snippet from my free read short story, Song for the Silver Merman, available to download as a PDF from my website http://www.marshaamoore.com This story is an "extra" from my book, Tears on a Tranquil Lake, releasing February 1st. It gives a taste of the main characters, the setting, and action of that book as well as introducing a few new characters which will turn up in a sequel I'm presently writing.
In this scene, the heroine, Ciel, and her two mermaid friends are attempting to join in a group of the "popular" mermaids. Ciel is stunned to see how those of the "in group" operate and later, pay a consequence for their irresponsible behaviors.
We dropped to a lower level, but the mermaids at the point continued taunting as the boat rounded within thirty feet of the point.
A voice from the deck yelled, “Bring her to! Heave to!”
The pirates hung far over the gunwale, their eyes bugged out with lust. “Ye’ve got some right big ones, lass; flash ‘em to me again.” “Lovely teets!”
Suddenly, four ropes with wide stiff loops at their ends flew out from the ship toward the teasing mermaids.
****
Song for the Silver Merman
When Ciel, a newly-turned mermaid, sings for the first time, she startles everyone with the mermagic in her voice, which gives her chance to study with the esteemed Silver Merman and much more.
Today, I'm excited to welcome Pamela Turner as my guest, talking about the fascinating topic of dark angels and their role in her wonderful new book, Death Sword.
Lucifer Rising
(Reexamining Samael’s Role)
by Pamela Turner
When I wrote Death Sword for National Novel Writing Month in 2008, my knowledge of angels was rudimentary at best and flawed at worst. But any preconceived notions I had about angels flew out the proverbial window. Often depicted as merely messengers and/or guardians, I realized their true powers were often diminished. When I decided to revise Death Sword, I wanted to change that.
One such character is Gabriel. While he’s often depicted as an androgynous figure, this is misleading since he wields a huge and deadly scythe. He’s also noted for being one of the angels of destruction sent to annihilate Sodom and Gomorrah. Yes, that Gabriel, who is not only an angel of the Annunciation but also of death and vengeance. Along with Samael, Gabriel oversees angels of death under the supervision of Metatron.
Of all the angels I researched for Death Sword, Samael has become a key figure throughout the pending series. (Death Sword is the first book in a planned four-book series, The Angels of Death). Chief of satans, Samael is considered both holy and fallen, according to A Dictionary ofAngels (Gustav Davidson). Perhaps even more interesting is the entry posted in The Encyclopedia of Angels (Rosemary Ellen Guiley): “Prior to the Fall, Samael is higher than the mighty Seraphim. He has 12 wings.”
If that description brings to mind the name “Lucifer,” you’re right. But there’s more to the Devil than we realize. In their volume, The Book of Angels, (Ruth Thompson, L.A Williams, and Renae Taylor), author Todd Jordan writes, “However, the revered St. Jerome contends that Samael, as Lucifer, may be playing a role for God...Jerome posited that becoming the being known as Lucifer was a monumental task that God assigned to Samael, as he was the only Archangel strong enough to survive the ravages of a Hellish station.”
Whether you agree or not, it’s an interesting concept. And it ties in with the following pitch for the series: “What if the Seraphim, the highest ranking archangels, viewing love as the ultimate weakness, decide they are superior to God and create a world of intolerance and fear?”
The battle between the angels of death and Samael against the Seraphim has begun.
Pamela Turner claims to be an atheist but she’s probably more of a Humanist. A former magazine freelance writer, she returned to writing fiction in 2003. Death Sword is her first published book.
Death Sword Blurb
The only thing more dangerous than an angel of death is one obsessed with vengeance.
Karla Black has always known she’s different from other people. She learns just how different after she's fatally stabbed and brought back to life as a half-human angel of death.
With newfound power comes a newfound boss.
Samael despises her. He considers Karla impure and resents her relationship with her partner Xariel…who also happens to be Samael's ex-lover. When he takes that hatred to a higher level, Karla vows vengeance - a task easier said than done.
With the loss of their angelic powers, Karla and Xariel face a dilemma – how will they defeat an unstoppable Samael, whose poisoned rapier can kill human and angel alike?
If Karla doesn’t awaken to her true identity, both heaven and earth are in danger of annihilation.
Karla lay on the sofa, her heart racing, driven by adrenaline-induced fear. Another scare and
she’d go into cardiac arrest.
Samael loomed over her, hands on either side of her head. “Human filth,” he whispered, “the
sooner I’m rid of you, the better.” A dagger appeared in his hand. The intricate markings differed
from the ones on Xariel’s knife. She’d no doubt Samael meant to kill her. Too bad she hadn’t told Xariel she loved him.
He pushed the tip against her throat. “Should I kill you now?” The chief of satans smiled at
her, a cruel grin which didn’t reach his eyes. “I’d love to, but I want Xariel to watch.” He cocked a brow at her distressed expression. “Oh? Didn’t I tell you? He saw his darling Delilah die. I’m sure he’d be very disappointed if he couldn’t see your final moments.”
Karla swallowed. “What now?” She prayed for a swift death. Samael pressed down on the
dagger. The tip sliced through skin, piercing her windpipe, the sharp pain excruciating. A strangled gasp burbled in her throat. Shock laid a merciful hand on her head. She closed her eyes, letting darkness wash over her.
A heavy weight pressed down on her body. Lungs burning, she struggled for air. Minutes
passed. Nothing happened. No tunnel, no white light. Curious, Karla opened her eyes, tried to sit up.
She couldn’t move.
Panic gnawed at frayed nerves. Samael hadn’t killed her. He’d done far worse. Paralyzed,
she couldn’t defend herself or escape.
“They’ll be back soon,” Samael said. “I’ve kept them busy, but no doubt they’ve finished.
We should go.”
Karla tried to speak. Invisible threads stitched her mouth closed. She rolled her eyes, the
only part able to move, and stared at him. “Why?”
Samael noticed. “Frustrating, isn’t it? Don’t worry, it’ll be over soon.”
His fingers closed her eyelids, despite her conscious will to keep them open.
Today I'm very pleased to have author Charlene Wilson as my guest. I'm almost as excited about her debut release, Cornerstone Deep, as my own. I fell in love with her first draft of that book in a critique group.
Thanks for inviting me to visit with you Marsha. I'm excited to be here.
Q: There are very few authors who write fantasy romance. Most write paranormal or urban fantasy, not high fantasy mixed with romance. Personally, I think it's a great combo, but I'm biased. Why have you chosen this combined genre for your book?
Actually, my characters chose how the book turned out. Lol. I’m a character driven writer. Conversations, actions, reactions, and settings all play out in my mind and I have to follow them or end up going back to change what I wrote.
Q: What magical beings do you enjoy writing about?
Magic is always fun to use in stories. For me, it adds so much to romance. I know you probably meant magical beings to mean faeries or merfolk. *wink* And in Cornerstone Deep, the beings are wizards…or other dimensional beings that are able to manipulate the elements. But I don’t only give familiars the powers. In World Beneath the Rock (book three in this series), I introduce a wolf named Soley. I also give a peacock and an antelope (yes antelope) gifted souls.
Q: Who is your favorite character in Cornerstone Deep and why?
I would have to choose Cole as my favorite character in Cornerstone Deep. He’s so lost-love sick. He’s the most romantic hearted character wandering around in my head. On the outside, he’s moody, hard-hearted. But get him near his soul mate and his soul takes over.
Q: Where did the idea for this incredible magical love between Cole and Mianna come from? What inspired you?
The core of Cornerstone Deep came directly from a dream. The scene in the alley is almost step for step what I saw. That wasn’t all to the nightmare though. Dreamer’s omniscience told me so much more. I knew the man, though I’d never met him before that time. (He ended up being Cole Shilo) I knew his heart and though what he was doing was frightening, I was drawn to him with my soul. The effects of the spell he cast made my actions innocent, naïve. Though something deep within me cried to be saved, I followed the three men, enrapted by being in their presence. Guess where they led me. That’s right…I’ll let you read the book. Lol. Of course Anna/Mianna became me. And the story expanded from there.
Q: What fantasy character (yours or another author's) would you most like to have dinner with? How would you expect the evening to go?
This is really hard! I’m going to stick with my Shilo Brothers, but how can I choose just one? Each one is so different from the other. Can I have them all for a romantic dinner, Marsha? If it were a night with Cole, there would definitely be slow seductive dancing. The Song of Meridian rules his moves when it plays. That mixed with his personal Zephyr… *melt* If it were James, he’d prepare an amazing meal himself, set the loveliest decor, and his midnight eyes would never veer from mine. We would talk for hours. And he would actually listen and care about what I said. Lol. Now Vincent? A Nobleman’s limo would take us to the finest social affair…after he’d had the most beautiful gown delivered as a gift for me to wear. He’d introduce me to all the Lords and Ladies, his square jaw high with pride. Some women don’t like to be shown off. Me? Bring it on. Especially with someone as hot as Vince!
Blurb:
They outlive their loves by thousands of years. Reincarnation doesn't exist on this plain. Yet they continue to accept others for whatever time they have together. Save for Cole. His love for his last wife burns in his soul four centuries after her death.
When the service they render to the Lords of Cornerstone Deep brings him face to face with Anna, something unexpected happens. In a realm of silent souls, hers calls to him. He responds with a kiss; one that joined with the spell of servitude, binds her soul.
He tries desperately to undue his wrong, despite the determination of the Lord to keep her.
The lights died, and shadows replaced the candescent glare. Lights out already? Anna threw her gaze to the window. Dusk.
She slid the aromatic candle closer, using the dim light to finish positioning the intricate glass forms. Its stout core had lessened over the hours she’d worked. Though she thought about snuffing out the gift after Dressen’s actions, she couldn’t bring herself to extinguish the comforting scent.
Cursed time. She draped her work station with a light cloth and threw on her jacket. With the bejeweled candleholder tight in her grip, she rushed out the door. The scent of licorice and vanilla trailed from the flame as she weaved her way through adjoining art studios and corridors.
As she emerged from Cantrell Artisan, she shivered in the spring air. The industrial West Side ’s sulfuric odor rode the breeze from across town, and the fragrant fire flickered out. She cradled the holder between the large granite lion paws that sat beside the steps. It fit nicely. She sniggered at the sight. Kyle Dressen’s artistic contribution to the sphinx.
She stepped onto the sidewalk and looked around. Humor faded. Vapor loomed over the empty streets like phantoms gathering warmth from the asphalt. She briskly rubbed her sleeves. The slight warming did nothing to ease her insecurity. Street lights blinked on but offered little comfort as the newscaster’s announcement flooded her mind. “After much deliberation, the new curfew of 2024 has been set into place. Lord Kyle Dressen, Grand Marshal of the courts, announced the bill’s passing, and urges all to adhere as strict measure will be taken to ensure vandalism of the East Side is eradicated.”
What a ridiculous notion. The impoverished East Side getting aid from the lawmakers. Yet now, unease filled her. Her co-workers’ gossip on the matter didn’t help her anxiety. An apprehensive tone caught her voice as she repeated the warning. “Curfew breakers will never be seen again.” Her whisper sent mist through the chill. She wished she hadn’t spoken.
Anna hurried across the open court and down an adjacent street. Awnings rustled in the wind. Neon signs that once invited late-night commerce hung dead behind barred windows. Her rushed steps echoed through the air.
She looked to the sky. A blanket of stars covered the firmament. She’d worked too late. Again. “God, I’m not going to make it.”
Her steps quickened, and she caught her breath as she approached the shortcut through the park. The wide corner entrance stood closed. The ancient stone griffin perched high on the gateway glared down at her. She shook the bars with disbelief. “When do they ever lock ShiloPark?” Scanning the long gates that fortified the urban green, fear clutched her stomach.
“Anna.”
She whipped around. The sound was like a whisper to her mind yet clear as if spoken. Her gaze intensified as she studied the shadowed pavement. Beneath the dim light of a street lamp, dense smoke billowed and rose, taking the form of three men. Her throat clenched. “What…in…the…world!”She spun around and ran.
“There’s no use in running.”
Throwing her hands to her ears, she tried to block out the voice. An abandoned shuttle van propped half way up the curb offered the only protection along the vacant street. She darted across the road to find refuge.
Her long hair netted her face as she stumbled past street-side clutter. She swiped the strands away. Catching her balance, she raced along the storefronts and spotted a weak halo down an alley. An open door? She rushed into the darkness.
Puddles of discarded waste filled the dips in the pass, and the air was thick with a foul stench. Her frantic feet beat the pavement as she raced to every locked door.
Steady footsteps followed.
She gasped with each failed entry. “Come on. Just one open door.” A cry ripped her throat as she turned to the final promise of safety. The small lamp flickered. Obscene graffiti sprawled the length of the wall that blocked her escape; the dim halo highlighted the neon paint.
She turned to the way she came. Her body trembled, and she backed into a corner for support. “This is a nightmare.” Her shallow voice quivered and sent denial through her. “This isn’t happening!” The tomb-like closure briefly echoed her claim but the measured steps resounded as they approached.
She stared at the forms as they overtook the narrow alley. A man led center, his companions flanking. Each unified stride caused their capes to furl with controlled motion. Their focus was on her. The bleak lamp lit their approach--a dark trio. Reapers, all of them--black hair, black eyes, black cloaks. Curfew breakers are never seen again. At that moment, she believed. Anna held her breath as if to ward off the imminent danger.
They stopped a few feet from her, and the leader stepped forward.
The other men waited.
Endless time filled her as she gazed at their resolute faces. She swallowed hard to ward off the want of air.
With graceful motion, the leader lifted his hand as if setting a butterfly free. A mist, the brilliance of snow crystalline encircled her and lingered in the air.
Anna struggled to withhold a gasp.
“You have to breathe sometime.”
The voice sifted through her mind. Her lungs burned, begged for relief. Fear gripped her as she succumbed to need, and the tiny crystallites flowed past her lips.
The taste of divinity touched her senses, and the promise of bliss sang in her mind. The invitation was overwhelming, irresistible. A wave of serenity coated her emotions.
She met his gaze.
A small smile touched his coal eyes. It penetrated her soul. Opposition dissolved.
He inhaled the sparkling mist and leaned close. Cradling her face in his hands, he touched his lips to hers. They were warm and seductive, unexpectedly tender. The aroma of licorice and cream flowed through her. She accepted his attention, intoxicated by the offering. In a gentle motion, she felt the loving caress of his tongue on hers. Eternity echoed in her heart.
With a breath, the magic spell filled her. Heat steamed her lungs and filtered throughout her body. Every wave carried with it memories; the last words of her father, the aged photo of her mother she clung to as a child.
Subjection engulfed her mind. All wonderment ceased under its capture. Rapture sealed her senses and final will vanished.
This week's Six Sentence Sunday snippet is from a free read short story, Song for the Silver Merman, available to download as a PDF from my website http://www.marshaamoore.com This story is an "extra" from my book, Tears on a Tranquil Lake, releasing February 1st. It gives a taste of the main characters, the setting, and action of that book as well as introducing a few new characters which will turn up in a sequel I'm presently writing.
Meris, the merman, is about to introduce Ciel, a newly-turned mermaid and his lover, to the Silver Merman, the venerated merman of their community, best trained in mermagic. She is applying to be his pupil.
“He builds his energy from the power of the waves.” I wondered how that was possible. Was it something I’d learn?
Sure enough, he sat on a rock seat, worn smooth by the pounding sea. His hair grew long and white, with silver coral-like decorations circling his head from ear-to-ear, crossing over his crown. These moved as though they were living appendages of his body. His flipper showed age, lacking the thick muscles of youth. The scale covering, apparently once bright blue, now silvered with an overglow, which gave him a regal look. We found him conversing with dolphins in a lively interchange, laughing and clapping at each other.
****
Song for the Silver Merman
When Ciel, a newly-turned mermaid, sings for the first time, she startles everyone with the mermagic in her voice, which gives her chance to study with the esteemed Silver Merman and much more.
