Archive for June, 2015

More poems for your reading pleasure…..G, H and I

Yup here you go..some more poetry to read

Wrote this first one a long time ago


Gift of the wolf

Wolf’s claw
magic’s tool
power’s gift
given by the spirit

A sacrifice
from the beast to man
so that understanding can be found
and inner balance discovered

© 1999



My mane flying behind me,
the ground being eaten by my strides,
I am freedom unbound,
strength, power and grace.

Mankind tamed my people,
hitched them to a plow,
beat them, destroyed their spirits,
but I still survive.

Though the land becomes smaller,
though man finds he no longer needs them,
I will always run free,
I am the soul of the wind.


In my dreams

You were here
so close I could touch
holding me near
saying my name

I looked into your eyes
opened my mouth to speak
but you started to fade
for you were only here
in my dreams


As you can see I stick to writing free verse most of the time. Hope you are enjoying it.


So does anyone still read this?

It has been a busy week with Father’s day and my anniversary. I have not been a good writer type and finished up my novel like I had planned. Life got in the way. I have stuff figured out and some notes taken but I keep going back and crossing it out. Writing the epilogue is one of the hardest things to for me. Should I have Loralil actually go through with a simple night of passion with Jason? Should I have her decide to accept the training of the priest in Tal’shin? Should I stop the novel where I have done so far? Leaving both Jason’s emotions and Master Fortin’s request hanging for the second half of this duology?

See writing can be amazing and confusing. You get to tell tales that no one has read before in ways that are unique to your voice, but because of that you have to make decisions about how to take your tale, from start to finish. Finishing is kicking my butt, but soon enough I will finish this tale and move onto something different.

As for the header on this post it comes from me looking at how many visitors I have lately. Seems like with the end of spring and the beginning of summer less people are reading any of my blog posts. That is sad for me. I write these in hopes to keep my readers interested in the whole writing process that I use.

Yes a lot of this blog is me talking about the life of a writer and what influences what I do, but it also has excerpts from my work in progress, details on the books I have written and will be writing and of course about the characters. I am thinking in fact of doing some character studies for my various novels. The characters in my books are all very different and strange but they are a part of who I am.

So is anyone still reading this blog? And better yet, would you be interested in character profiles of my characters from my various series? Let me know.

Poetry by the letters….how about D, E an F this week?

Yup switching over to poetry this week. I haven’t done new poems or flash fiction since I am still mired in trying to complete A Fragile Peace: Found. It is really kicking my butt. So why not give you some poetry from the not so distant past. As many of you who know me know I have been writing poetry for the last fifteen(ish) years.  Most of my poems are emotional short pieces about how I was feeling at the time. Not all are but most. Today I will try to go with stuff that isn’t too dark. After all today is the first full day of summer and we need something bright and fun right?

So here you go:


Calls in the deep,
songs of power,
songs of life,
singers of pure motion.

Dancing in the water,
figures of delight,
Sea mother’s children,
laughter in flight.
The Eagle

frozen against the sky,
carried ever upwards,
by currents of air.

looking for the prey,
the eagle is the master,
of the hunt and the sky


the flame burned low for so long,
life was sad and empty,
then you came along,
bringing your fire to add to mine.

When I thought my flame would die,
when I gave up, you were there,
holding up the light of love,
warmed my cold soul with it’s power

As you can see these are free verse, my preferred way of writing poetry. I have placed my poetry all over from my website, to blog sites to published in anthologies and my own collections. Poetry is both tricky and powerful. You never know exactly what you will get when you write it and you definitely never know what the reader gets when they read it. I hope you enjoy.

What’s this an excerpt from a later book?

Yup that is what you get here today. See over on my main blog (Suteko’s Blog) I put in an excerpt from the third novel of Loralil Greyfox’s life. The thing is the whole book was supposed to just be the opening chapters to A Fragile Peace broken (working title) It took off recently and became an entire novel on its own that I will hopefully finish before the end of summer. I am thinking about having it out by Labor day. We will see.

After all the work I did on A Fragile Peace: Found, I realize that I will need to rewrite a lot of this now forth book before I put it out. It is actually a lot of fun to look back at the parts of this character’s life I have written. Being that she is a Grey Elf, she has a long life expectancy. No, she is not an immortal elf, but she could easily expect to life well over a thousand years. With an age range like that I have so much space to play in. So far she is barely 50 years old. While for us humans (like me at 51) that is the beginning of the slippery slope to death, for her she is still considered barely an adult.

If you have read Endings and Revenge (Saga of Loralil Greyfox) You know i have put her through so many horrible things in those few short years. The timeless summer of the Elves is not a good time for her so far. In the third book I am dealing with consequences to the soul of a person. Not as heavy as you could with a human but I am trying to lighten up this very dark fantasy some.

Now this excerpt is set about fifteen years after the excerpt I had included in my other blog. Yes that is a jump, if we were human, but for an elf it is really just a blink of her eyes.


“So,” a soft voice spoke. “They came this way.” Looking up the mountainside a pair of amethyst eyes narrowed. There was a haze growing above and it could be coming only from one place. Swiftly pulling her bow, Loralil ran lightly up the mountain trail.

It had been fifteen years since the death of the last of her family, fourteen years since she had been in this place. She had taken to wandering the wilds. The healers of Tal’sin had brought her back to a semblance of normalcy. She could function within polite society, but she rarely felt comfortable there. She was a killer, she knew that deep inside and nothing the people of the Grey Elven city could tell her would change her view of herself. The long years in the human lands had shaped her.

She paused for a moment as she came close to the city. There was something on the air, a scent her forest trained senses told her was familiar. She shook her body, shaking out the tightness that settled between her shoulder blades. She knew there were intruders on her mountain, another race of beings had come up here and had most likely invaded the last refuge of a people nearly extinct. She wasn’t sure just which race it was as they were mounted, but she had an idea. The lingering scent of the hated foe of her youth filled her nostrils and the small elf woman picked up speed.

She had be to sure. One part of her mind told her she had to try and protect the people who had brought her back and the rest told her it was once more time to destroy. The battle was to be found once more.


Inside the mountain city of Tal’sin there was a battle raging. Orcs had found once more their favorite prey. Though not as peaceful as the village of Loralil’s birth, the people of Tal’sin were far from warriors. They were city dwellers, though of a city small by human standards, Tal’sin held a mind healer college and like all Grey Elf dwelling places there was a large gathering of artisans. That had to be what had brought the bandits in. The creative people had made some wondrous things, rare and fine, and worth a lot of money.


Loralil narrowed her eyes and concentrated. She could see the armed foes through the smoke filling the air. She still did not quite know who it was, but she didn’t care. The people of the city were all small and slender, grey elves. The attackers were broad and tall. She took aim at those figures she could see. It was with an almost animal satisfaction that she watched her intended targets fall.

It wasn’t till the sixth fell, not away, but toward her that she got her first look at the men. She carefully placed her bow down in the tree and growled low in her throat. Orc, the hated foe. A red cloud began to descend over her vision and she moved like a shadow, flowing forward to begin to kill. She held a bit of her sanity back, enough to know friend from enemy, or so she prayed.

The first of the attackers came at her, swaggering and giggling at the tiny figure with the sword in her hands. That giggle died in his throat as the shining silver blade clove it open. Death stalked the streets of Tal’sin, but no longer was it a male force. Now it had taken on the image of woman and revenge was all that mattered.


When the fire had taken hold, it spread through the city on the wings of the wind. The people of the city battled both the invaders and the flames. It was with surprise that they watched the invaders cry out and run off. They cheered, but then they screamed as the flames ate out from the wood to engulf them too. Burning bright and wild, little was left in its path.


The killing continued until a voice cried out in a language clear and loud. Loralil felt the rage drain out of her and she looked about. The ground was littered with the bodies of her foes. Mixed among the bandits were the burned bodies of the people she had come to save.

Shuddering, she knelt and cleaned her blade on the grass at her feet. She then slid it back into the sheath that rode her shoulders. Skirting around the dead Orcs, she moved from elf to elf. Gently moving those who were beyond the need of the healers. She held no healing in her hands, only death, but she could give dignity to those who had died.

She no longer sung the dead upon their path to the west. That part of her died with the last of her family, but her physical strength had grown. Whether it was that she now spent her time in constant practice or a gift from the gods who she was no longer sure existed, she didn’t care. It helped her to protect those who would not protect themselves.

Once the bodies of those she had lived among for a time had been moved a respectable distance from the hated ones Loralil started in on the rest. The average Orc was easily over a foot taller than she and outweighed her by over a hundred pounds, but it didn’t matter. She would stoop, grab a body by the arm and leg and sling it on her shoulders, then head out of the clearing. There was a nearby gorge that was used by scavengers. She tossed them all down the cliff. In all there were thirty of the hated Orcs. More in one place than she had ever heard of.

She paused and wiped her brow after the last of them and looked up the mountain. The city was covered in smoke and ash. She knew that one pair of hands would be unable to do much to stop the progress of the fire, but she ran up the mountain any way.

The gates were wide open and people were running out, carrying what belongings they could. One of the Masters spotted her and gestured madly. Gently pushing her way through the panicked crowd she went to meet him.

“Master Talron, have the others made it out?”

The stately grey haired elf shook his head. “Mistress Pheadra and Master Forlin were in the chapel and your friend Jason Halfelf was with them.”

Cursing softly Loralil nodded and started off. “I will get them. Get these people away from the fires. The caves off the north path have plenty of wood and supplies.”

The elderly Master nodded and started shouting orders to the beings about him; the voice of authority bringing some sense of order to the chaos. Loralil passed the gates quickly and pulling a scarf from her hip pouch, wrapped it about her nose and mouth.

The smoke and soot was thick and she could hear little beyond the crackling of the flames. It was only good fortune and planning that the city had been laid out around an artificial pond. The series of pools and waterfalls had managed to keep most of the fire contained to the outer ring of the city. As she ran through the streets, she spotted people carrying younglings.

She grabbed the nearest and started herding them back the way she came. She recognized the crèche mother and her assistants. They had gotten the children out of the nursery where the parents usually kept them while they were working. “Head directly to the gates. The fire has burned through there already and while the cobbles are hot you can get them out of the gates. Find Master Talron. He is taking everyone to the caves.”

The woman nodded and led the children and her assistants toward the outer gates. Loralil watched them till she was sure they were heading the right way and then turned and ran. The flames were burning out in most places, but she could still see the roof of the chapel burning.

As she neared it she heard a chant and then a whoosh. The skies above her opened up and rain came pelting heavily down. With a laughing curse, Loralil moved into the doorway of the chapel. Eyes searching, she breathed a sigh of relief when she spotted the two elder Grey elves and the taller form of Jason. “Took you long enough.” She joked, and then coughed as the smoke filled her lungs.

Moving forward she quickly looked over the elders. Mistress Phaedra was wrapping something around Jason’s head and Master Fortin slumped against the altar. The old woman looked up crossly. “He did what he could, Greyfox. Where were you?”

Chastised, Loralil sighed. “Dealing with the invaders, My Lady.” She knelt down and looked in Master Fortin’s eyes.

They were a bit dazed and the old elf nodded. “Your old training came in handy I am sure, little one.” He coughed, a harsh sounding noise and held out a hand. Loralil stood and gently helped him to stand. Looping his arm over her shoulder, she helped him out of the chapel.


Yes this is a long excerpt. I will be changing a lot of this for sure. In some ways Loralil has not grown like she should in this bit. The troubles she has is that many of her people just don’t understand her reactions to things. Having spent most of her life among humans she just doesn’t have the beliefs about the other races that they expect. Also spending such a long time as a warrior, having to fight for every breath, she has a temper that they only believe the dark cousins have. She is far from a Drow but she is not a gentle artisan like the Grey Elves. Once more i will be dealing with the differences between the three races of elves, their expectations of Loralil and her growth toward the adventurer that she will be for many years. Learning to deal with deeply internalized anger is something that I think will hit a cord with many women. We are taught to sublimate our anger as women. It is even more so for a race that puts a premium on grace and beauty. Loralil has a great well of talent inside that she can not touch till she learns to control her anger, her fears and herself.

Excerpt from Chapter eleven for A Fragile Peace (WIP title)

I decided to give you a little bit of the book I am working on right now. I have moved on from here but I thought this scene was one of the better ones I wrote so far for this book.


She kept moving till all she could hear was the calls of birds and then settled down in the crotch of the tree she rested in. Setting her back against the gnarled bark, she reached into the pouch that always hung at her side. Pulling out the harp charm she stretched it into its instrument size. Placing her fingers on the strings she let the music that was trapped inside her out.

She longed to sing, to let out the words that bounced around her head, but she still could not. Instead she let the music flow out from her fingers. The notes fell from her fingers and attracted the wild songbirds to her side. With eyes closed she played, hearing with a small part of her the notes they added to her harp playing. Once more her playing seemed to pull something toward her. Be it magic or simply the recently departed spirits could not be said, but she could feel an energy around her that seemed to only come when she was alone.

Opening her eyes she lay her fingers on the strings to still them. Taking a soft breath she swallowed and let a single tear fall. Sitting with his legs hanging off the branch was Harl. All marks from his death were gone and he smiled as he swung his feet in the air. “You should keep playing, my friend. Your music is your magic.” He reached out and caught the tear before it fell with a finger that she could see through.

Loralil blinked for Harl spoke with words that she heard with heart, mind and ears. The spirit laughed at the expression on her face. “Yes, I can speak now, little dove. Death has gifted me with a voice now.” His face grew serious as he continued. “Little sister, little dove, you must let your vow go.”

Loralil opened her mouth and then shut it, shaking her head sadly. Harl sighed heavily and then smiled. “I know it is hard. You take the heavy burden of much that is not yours to shoulder. Do not add my passing to the weight on you.”

Looking down at the harp in her hands, she sighed. What he said was true, but she could not help it. If they had not come he would still be alive. She let her fingers say what she could not and Harl listened from his place on the branch. The sadness, the longing for peace and the wish for something was clear if you listened.

“I can’t stay long, little friend. I have a favor to ask of you.” Loralil looked up not letting her fingers stop and lifted a brow. Harl smiled and continued. “Watch over my twin. He is at odd ends right now, unsure of his gods and his place in the world without me at his side.” He ran a big, scarred hand through his hair in a familiar gesture. “I do not ask you to do this for long, but he will need a friend for the next few weeks.”

Loralil debated only a moment before nodding. Her fingers roamed from the song of sadness to one of understanding and hope. When Harl smiled and faded from sight she felt him caress her hair and whisper in her head. “Thank you, my little friend. Know that you will find peace if you wish to.”


Peace and the search for it is the theme of this third book in the series and a quest that Loralil will have for the rest of her days. We all have things we search for and as a character who was ripped from her family and her life at a young age, forced into debased slavery, then forced to kill for others amusement, and of course finding your quest for revenge has a high cost, well you can imagine. Hopefully I can write these tales in a way that is both intriguing for the reader and challenging for both myself and my character. Expect more excerpts till I get to the final chapter.

Goodbye May, Welcome June….some fun flash fiction for this warm day

it is June 1st, the sun is shinning, the music is playing and I thoght how about sharing some flash fictions of various lengths with you my loyal readers?

First a dribble..that is a short of only 50 words (not counting title of course)


Gentle Morning

Water droplets glisten on the down turned petals of sapphire blue. The sun is cupped gently by one of those blossoms and I watch as it rises like a phoenix from the ashes. The sky, shades of umber, cinnabar and gold, slowly brightening once more as night becomes day again.


Next drabble, those tales of exactly 100 words


Let’s Play!

Let’s go out and play today, fun to be had on this summer day for everyone and everything. Whoops, it is raining out. Well that is okay. It might be raining, it might be cloudy, but I don’t care. I have my flower and the sun shines from deep inside of me. Come on everyone, lets go out and play. Bring your flowers and bring your smiles. For raindrops are just nature’s tears as she laughs at our bright antics today. Play with me my friends. Pick up your flower and play. Won’t you join me outside today and play?


Now how about the shortest of the short? A hint fiction…these are only 25 words


Summer dawn

Sun rising, shades of red, yellow and white, over the sea. Clouds scuttle off, as if burned by light. Awake my child from your dreams.


A micro fiction runs between the length of a drabble and a dribble…and here you go


Hiding in the Tomatoes

I slipped between the round green bulbs, seeking the coolness of the shade they cast. The summer has been hot and I am but a little frog. This place is safe from hunters and water is sprayed here on a schedule that intrigues me. The others sit by the drying ponds, gasping as the water they need to stay alive dries up. Me, I have found the perfect place to rest and to grow. Water, food and shade, what else could a frog ask for?


And finally a quickie fiction. These generally come in over 100 words but under 500, enjoy


Marcus, the Brave

Mother said I couldn’t do it, or was it shouldn’t do it? But I had to try, had to scurry out of the den she kept me in and feel the wind in my fur. Climbing the stalk was a bit scary, it swayed with each placement of my paw, but I made it. I am at the top. Below my paws are the seed pods that grandmother said were the sweetest and above me is the sky. There is no hawk, no owl, looming out of the cloudless sky to snag me from my perch. For this one glorious moment I am free of fear, free of doubt and free to be more than the mouse of my birth. I am Marcus, the Brave, the only mouse to climb the stalk and tell the tale.