Archive for September, 2013

Pending fourth poetry book

Now I have been working on lots of things over the past few months.  I have released short stories, drabbles, flash fiction and even a poem or three.  Thing is I have one more collection I have put together that I haven’t posted up for sale yet.  As you can image poetry books are not an easy sell.  I have only sold a few of the three titles i have up all ready.  The books are a bit different since they include many of my better photographs.

Now this book, Generations of Love, is filled with my poems about family.  Hard for me to share those and harder for me to find the right images to go with each poem.  I need a few more to have this collection finished then i have to find the courage to put it out to the world to read.

But I have made a cover for it.  Nothing too fancy, just one of my photographs with the words on it but I like it.  Should I finish this book?  Should I put it out there for people to find someday?  Who knows but I am thinking about it.

generations

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More excerpts.

With fall there are so many stories to work on.  New tales, old tales and unfinished tales.  With all the series I have going sometimes I mix up what goes where.  This new little tale will be in the Beyond Realities series of shorts.

***

Finding Momma

a Beyond Realities short story

By Lisa Williamson

The child stood in the dark, the rain soaking down her hair and clothing.  She looked about like a frightened squirrel and dashed from under a tree to the bus stop shelter.  Fear and sadness was clear in the stance.  Fear grew stronger as ta voice floated out of the night.

“Little kitten running away in the dark.  Where does she think to go?  Who is she running to?”

Sarah froze for a long moment then ducked beneath the bench, curling into as small a ball of wet misery as she could.  Her tiny voice, barely whimpered, “Momma please find me.  Momma I need you.”  Tears slid down her face unheeded into the fur of the ragged teddy bear she clutched in white cold hands.

The eerie voice came closer and continued to frighten the small child.  “Kitten hiding in the dark, come to Sheila, come out now.  I have treats and toys for good little children.  Good little girls and good little boys.”

“Momma, where re you,” Sarah cried and shuddered more as the shadow filled the doorway of the shelter.  She pressed back against the glass, trying to escape the reaching claws.

Suddenly there was a growl and the shelter shuddered as lightening filled the night with flashes of roars of thunder.  Sarah let out a louder whimper, too scared to trly scream.  She felt the walls about her shudder and then the wall before her shattered outward, sending glittering glass into the night.  As the wall broke she finally screamed into the night.

***

And this little bit will be one of then next Death Walks Through tales

***

Undying Trickster

A Death Walks Through short story

by Lisa Williamson

“No!  I refuse!”

Death stood with a lifted brow.  Most wanted to move on but came stuck.  A simple nudge helped them move past and onward.  This woman was one of hte angry ones.

“Why?” he asked, his oddly hollow voice echoing in the dark room.

She turned, the long fan of dark hair floating around her.  “I am not supposed to be here.  That bitch stole my form, forced me out.”  The anger crackled in the dim space that they stood in.  Her eyes held the glow of the righteous.  Something Death had seen many times over the years.

There were always a few who claimed they were ousted by another soul.  In all the centuries of his existence he had only met a handful who were truly pushed from their living body by forces other than nature.  He leaned back against a wall that was not there, crossed his arms and looked over the soul before him.

It was true that she held more definition than the other ghosts he helped.  If it had not been for the fact that they were standing in the realm between life and death he would say she was alive.  There was nothing wavering, lost or washed out about this woman.

Flicking his thumb he lit a cheroot and narrowed his eyes.  There, faintly behind her, was the silver cord that attached the living to their bodies.  Those 2who spirit walked had strong cords, those truly dead had no cord.  This cord was thick and pulsing with energy but with some type of clamp attached to it.  He stepped around the woman and walked its length.

As he neared the clamp the whoosh of feathers filled the quite.  “You overstep your bounds.  Release this soul.”

***

And in my newest series I have this tale

***

Man’s Road

A Magics and Nightmares short story

by Lisa Williamson

The horizon moved up as she walked, the dawn was lightening the sky slowly from purple.  Stopping she scanned the sky, watching the eagle glide through the air, she sighed and turned her eyes down to  the dust demon skittering across the road.  Starting forward again she wrapped her arms around herself and plodded along.

Everything seemed so grey, dusty and lonely.  Walking was all she could do.  Following the road that man had made in this empty waste.  There was nothing to either side, no building to offer shelter so she kept moving.

The day slowly moved forward and still there was little to break the horizon.  The call of the eagle drifted down to her, urging her to keep going but she was so hungry, so thirsty.  It was hard.

Eyes nearly closed, she followed the black ribbon that slowly rose in the distance.  Briefly as the eagle circled she looked up and could see a building in the distance.  Her heart lifted and she picked up her plodding pace.  As she drew nearer she sighed.  It was a ruin, like all the others she had seen on her long walk.  Moving closer she decided to move toward it.

As she stepped on the weed covered pathway toward the house the eagle swooped down and cried out harshly at her, beating her away from the possible shelter.  The cry startled her and brought her from her daze long enough to see the sign posted.  The skull on top of the fence post and the remains of some animal that had entered the yard.  Shuddering she moved back to her path along the road and kept moving.  The blight had obviously hit here too.  There was no shelter to be found along this stretch of road.

She kept moving till the moon rose and then slowly stopped.  The eagle had come to rest on a bright spot of color.  A tree that had somehow survived the blight.  She tilted her head up to look at her companion.  The great golden bird, nodded and nipped free a fruit that hung from the branches.

***

From Echoes of Elder Times I have started this one

***

Winter’s End

a Echoes of Elder Times short story

by Lisa Williamson

The winter settled in and seemed like it would never let go.  While those who lived in the far north knew that winter could linger long into what was supposed to be spring, since the brief war of Gods and Giants, old Mother Winter had not released her grip in almost two years.

The day of Ice, as the war was known, had lasted for an unknown time.  Man and all th lesser creatures had been frozen in place, with only those special few still moving about.  When the war was done and the ice slowly withdrew the world had changed.  Most of those living in the big cities did not survive the thaw.  Of those who had, fewer still survived the uprisings.

***

And finally not sure if this will stay in the Mythos of Love series or not

***

Angels From the Sky

A Mythos of Love short story

by Lisa Williamson

A figure crouched on the rooftop, eyes darting about, watching the crowds below.  It was nearly midnight but on this night it didn’t matter.  The new year would break soon and the people below were partying to fit the occasion. Is they knew just what was wandering the crowds the tone of anticipation would turn to panic in an instant.  Among the cheers and babbling, a single cry caused the shadowy form to spin about and start running.  Just as it reached the edge it leapt and fell.  A sharp snap filled the air as white wings opened and the figure flew away from the crowds, unnoticed.

 

Across the city away from the holiday revelers the night was different.  Most light were out, either smashed or shuddered.  While the partiers enjoyed the sounds of bands and freely flowing alcohol in these building huddles those who it was just another cold night to survive.  Michael dashed between buildings, chasing yet another pass through.

The past decade had found creatures from other worlds, other dimensions slipping into the city and most found a place in the underbelly, both living and dying in the same under passes and abandoned buildings  that the human runaway and forgotten lived in.  Society at large rarely was touched by the drop ins and when they were it tended to be by the darker denizens.

Michael was part of an interspecies taskforce.  Not acknowledged by the day world, he and a handful of others patrolled the night streets, policing the Fells and the Burrows.  He rounded the corner as a cry split the night.  He could see one of the gentler creatures surround by the E street Brawlers.  The Brawlers were a purely human gang.  They had been making their mark in the underworld by attacking any they thought impure.

A mixed band of street thugs, they allowed only those of Hispanic blood in.  Didn’t matter if you were Mexican, Puerto Rican or El Salvadorian as long as you weren’t mixed with black, red, yellow or white.  They had taken out all the other gangs for 20 blocks from the Barrio to the Fells.  Now that they found a source of creatures not human, they found a new platform.

Deciding why not

I have been sick the past week, so I haven’t been working on my writing like I should.  But while i have been lazing about trying to get my brain working I decided something.  I have a handful of tales that I don’t plan on selling but there is no reason I can’t post them up for free right?

Now these have been put up a few places like WattPad and Storyenet but those places don’t have a lot of readers.  So I decided since i was placing all my work up over on Smashwords why not put up these tales?  So right now Twas the Night, In Space No One Can Hear you Scream and Same Time Next Year at the Space Port Cafe are going up for free under Space Station Tales over on Smashwords.  Unlike with Shadows and Sins of the Father I am going to make those available everywhere for free as a temptation for people to try my work and hopefully buy the rest of my stories.

I also decided to put A Bargain Made With Fur up for free and make it the next selection in the Echoes of Elder Times short story series.  If I can work it out I think one free story from each series would be a good idea.  I have one other story I haven’t put up yet but I am not sure what to do on that one.  I originally thought i would put it up in the Dark Games series but it looks like that will just be my new take on vampires.  So I need to ponder a new series title for this.

but as it will take me time to ponder i thought I might as well put up the covers again for my free stories.  You can of course find them on Smashwords and soon on every retailer they send things to!

 

fur same-time scream twas

New book covers for old stories

Sometimes you just have to update the cover you have.  There are three stories that have covers I made way back when I started publishing.  To put it mildly they are awful.  Not the stories but the covers.  This was before i knew what size they needed to be and how to do simple yet complex images.  Today I redid two of the covers because I am trying to get my stuff posted at as many ebook retailers as possible.  Which means I needed new covers so i could put the tales up on Smashwords.  Here is what I came up with

night-and-day-2 torch-2

Cover for Possibilities

Well I think i have it done but I am not sure.  Here is what I have done

possibilitres

Working up new bookcovers

As you finish a new tale coming up with a cover so you can post it for sale can be fun or it can be a trial.  Today I have been lucky.  I have two covers done.  One is for the newest Author’s Choice Select Anthology and the other for the next Mythos of Love short story.

The first one all I really did was add text.  The wonderful piece of art was donated by one of the group members and is an original painting for this collection.  Working with an all ready done piece of art is much easier than designing from scratch as you can see.  This is the temp cover for now:

behind-the-door

The second cover is for my story Rebirth.  I had a lot of fun making this.  With a little help from my ever amazing husband I think I have something really unique for a cover.

rebirth

Now I just have to work up a cover for Possibilities.  Thanks to a few suggestions from the Fiction Writers Facebook group I think i may have just the thing for this cover.  Hope i can make it look really good

Some new excerpts.

Yesterday I said I would put up some excerpts from my new works.  So why not right?

First one from Possibilities, a new story in a new series for me

****

He walked into the bar and looked about.  The room was much like many he had been in, small, dark and smoky.  This late there weren’t too many filling the tables and booths and he almost stepped back out to try a better spot but he spotted a woman in the shadows at the back of the bar.

 

A slow smile slid over a face that many would call handsome.  Strong cheekbones covered with bronzed skin under eyes that seemed to hold secrets with a simple glance.  He ran a hand through the raven locks to both settle them and to emphasize the muscles in his arm.  He was a fine specimen of a man, or so he appeared.

 

He nodded to the barkeep, lifting two fingers and gesturing toward the table in the back.  “Two of whatever she is drinking, Bobby.”

 

The barkeep snorted and shook his head.  “I wouldn’t if I were you Jimmy.  There is some bad juju around the woman sitting there.”  The beads at the ends of his braids clacked softly.

 

“Bad juju?”  Jimmy rolled his eyes and smiled.  “Well I doubt she has even seen anything like me my friend.”

 

Bobby poured him two fingers of Jamison’s into two glasses and passed them over.  “Don’t say I didn’t warn ya.”  He went back to his magazine, ignoring the curious look that was tossed his way.

 

Jimmy shook his head, sighed, then pasted on his patented come-hither smile and headed toward the woman in the back.  He had no idea what Bobby was talking about but now more than just his curiosity drew him to the woman.

 

Sitting in the shadows, Patty watched as the man chatted up the bartender.  Tall and handsome was to be expected of course.  She had yet to see one who wasn’t, these men who hit up the bars trolling for women.  He had an aura that would have the women falling into his lap like panting dogs.  She hid her smile and leaned forward as he came toward her, making sure that her cleavage was on display for him.  She had been told just what she needed to do to get attention and this part of the game was always fun.

 

Jimmy smiled as he noticed the lovely redhead leaning forward.  His eyes went first to the deep v of her shirt.  It was obvious that this woman knew she had a nice set of breasts and was more than willing to use them to catch attention.  No need for a pick up line here, which made him grin.  He really hated the silly words that so many seemed to need.

 

He slid into the bench across from his goal and smiled as he held up the two glasses of amber nectar.  “Care for a refill?”

***

That will be part of the Dark Games series of short stories.  Next we have a little bit from the next Mythos of Love short story, Rebirth

****

Gentle black clad arms held her till the world stopped spinning.  The room was dark and close and Lydia shuddered as she took a slow, deep breath.  The last thing she could remember was the wind in her hair as she drove her classic 1977 Oldsmobile Omega Brougham through the Berkshires.  The scent of the trees filled her senses one minute and the next it seemed she was here, wherever here was.

 

She took a series of slow breaths, trying to clear her head.  “Lydia?”  The deep voice caressed her skin and helped her focus.  She felt she should know that voice but placing it was hard.  She looked down, surprised that she was dressed in all white.  Fur, feathers and leather covered her arms and beneath her arms she focused on his hands.  They were strong looking with long fingers.  She kept looking at those hands, almost afraid to look up.

 

“What happened?”

 

Malcolm smiled at the fear in her whisper.  This woman had no reason to be afraid.  She was so much more than she knew but he understood.  “You transitioned.”  He continued.  “It will take time but you will remember sweet one.”  He brushed his lips across her temple.  “Breath for me, slowly.”  He moved one hand to her lower back and rubbed softly.

 

Lydia looked up into his face, seeing more clearly as each moment passed.  His eyes held hers.  Of a deep black, they promised secrets if only she looked deep enough.  She took a long deep breath and pulled her eyes from his to see the rest of his features.  Those oh so deep eyes were ringed by thick, dark lashes that would do a model proud.  His brows arched evenly below a clear broad forehead.  His cheeks were high and his nose was sharp but stopped just short of a beak.  His jaw was firm and finely dusted with the dark shadow of beard.  Not a full beard but the kind she thought you would see on those actors trying to be edgy.

 

She kept darting her eyes around and he watched as her brows drew together in puzzlement.  He lifted his other hand up to lightly brush his thumb over her cheek.  She unconsciously leaned into that caress, her liquid brown eyes closing as if she was taking comfort from his touch.  “That’s right, relax love. Let the memories come.”

***

I should have the covers for these two done by the end of the week (I hope)

And finally why not a little tease from my submission to the next Wordsmyth Halloween anthologiy?

****

Jessica couldn’t decide if she should be excited or scared.  Here was the proof she had been looking for.  The legend of Mary Blood had been that you would see her only on the road outside the cemetery but Jessica had been convinced that the random sightings of the woman in red was also Mary.  She kept the camera on the spirit and stepped forward.  “This is amazing,” she whispered.

 

The ghost shook her head at the silly young woman.  “You really should turn off your device and go home, child.  He doesn’t like trespasser here on this night.”  She stepped forward, the heels of her shoes making a distinct clicking noise as she did.  “Let’s get you out of here before He arrives.”

 

Jessica turned, keeping the camera on Mary and tried to question her.  “Mary, why are you here?  What kept you here?”

 

The ghost let out a big sigh as she herded Jessica.  “Wasn’t my choice dearie.  Family curse and all that.”  Step by step she moved Jessica toward the break in the stonewall.  Getting the girl outside of the boundary of the cemetery was important, more important than answering silly questions.

 

“The Curse?”  Jessica grew even more excited.  There were legends of a curse and now she would have proof.   Her professor would have to take her seriously.  The documentation was rather thin on the history of Blood cemetery.  The only documented possible ghost was Abel Blood but he was rather boring.  A staunch Christian man who had no skeletons in his closet so to speak.  Mary was from over a hundred years later than Abel Blood.

***

Took the legends from two different cemetery’s where I grew up and came up with what I hope is a scarier story than last years fun piece.