When you decide to sit down and write a different genre than you are known for it can be tricky.  I of course am known for odd and dark tales of fantasy.  Short and fun and to the point in most cases but I have been spreading my wings so to speak and writing novels and changing genres.  While the work I just finished (out to beta readers) is a good old fashioned (I hope) fantasy tale of good and evil, right and wrong I decided my next work will be more a paranormal.

Well since it it set in more modern times I have some modern themes in the book.  The Hero of the piece is a protector of the street kids.  Those people living out in the city who have been thrown away.  As many are aware there are thousands of kids living in deplorable conditions.  In a society that is filled with modern toys and constant media there are kids fighting to live lives that are barely above disasters.  Kids who the system failed.  Orphans, abused kids and adults living in squats and yes in many cases selling themselves for that next hit that will let them forget their lives.  So I have started a book that may take me longer to write than anything else i have.  We will see.  Here is a bit from Where Angels No Longer Tread.


The oldest of my orphans shook her head and rolled her eyes.  “You know that Michael has an all points out for you right?”

I shook my head as my eyes closed.  I had forgotten that my local contact with the police had planned on stopping by today.  Michael O’shay was a good man but a policeman to the core.  He worried about my safety and hated it when I went out on my night walks.  He was convinced that some hoodlum would attack and injure me.  Little did he know that it wasn’t a human hoodlum I had to worry about.  And I wanted it to stay that way.

Like many over the long years of my life, Michael thought he felt something for me.  The old allure of my race seemed to seek out and pull to me men who thought they needed to protect me.  Some of them were good, some were evil but most just had no idea what I was.  “Karen can you call him and let him know I am back?  I seem to have lost my cell phone again.”

Karen was a lovely young woman in her own way.  Tall with a lithe beauty that had attracted the attention of men looking for a new face, a new body.  She had come to the City from one of the Midwestern states.  Tan, with curling black hair and eyes of an exotic green, she had dreams of becoming a model but like most who came here she was deceived.  I found her a year ago living in a squat with a dozen other girls.  The agent who had brought her to the City hooked her on cocaine and then pimped her out.  He didn’t have her walking the streets but if anyone pointed a camera her way Karen would run for the hills.

I got her clean and ever since she had been helping me run the shelter.  Between us we had gotten almost all of the kids she had been squatting with either into my shelter or back to the homes they left.  A little time living in the City taught them that home was not as bad as they thought.  There were three we couldn’t save and they haunted Karen to this day.


This is just a background piece but it gives a bit of flavor to my story.