New stories first pages

I plan on putting up first pages of each and every story I have published or in the works. Now I don’t mean story ideas. I mean once I finish the first draft expect a first page, a teaser and more as I move them through the editing process. I might even do a complete first chapter, if i get asked for it.

Today is the first page of Not a Haunting. This is a Guardian Barrie story, the second in the series. I should have it finished up and ready to publish by the end of the month, barring any computer or health issues.

This is the first page of Not a Haunting, Guardian Barrie book 2

Prologue

“I tell you that a ghost town doesn’t mean it has ghosts, Charlie. I mean that town has been abandoned.” Marsha shook her head, but continued to film with her new high end camera. Charlie might be a nut job, but he paid well. In just four investigations with him she had replaced all her old equipment and started working on her own documentary.

Charlie didn’t seem to mind being a part of her research into those who believed in the paranormal and all things that go bump in the night. In fact he took it as a challenge to try and convince her that what he was hunting was real.

“Ah, my brave camerawoman, in many of them that is true, but Ballycroy has had happenings even just a few months ago. There were reports of the wee folk trapped in the church basement and of the ghosts in the hotel acting up.”

Marsha shook her head and followed Charlie’s progress toward the last fully standing building in the old town. “Bad enough you have me out hunting your ghoulies in the dark most nights, did we really have to go tonight? It’s cold as the proverbial witch’s tit out here.”

“Hey that is racist!” Charlie paused for a moment, looking thoughtful. “Or is it religionist? I never get that one right.”

Marsha shook her head as they stepped into the side door that led to the old post office that was a part of the old hotel. “Neither? Both? It is just an old saying after all.”

“Yeah, but we are supposed to be above all that aren’t we? I mean I can see Gen x or boomers using it, hell even Millennials, but we are the enlightened Gen Z aren’t we?”

Marsha was opening her mouth to answer when the room started to light up with a red glow. She quickly got the camera going and gestured for Charlie to turn around.

In the back of the room, where the broken counter lay in the rubble something started to form. Marsha could hear the excitement in Charlie’s voice as he started his spiel.

If you want to read more it will be up for sale at the beginning of July at most e retailers.

Excerpts from upcoming books

Well I’m back to writing again. In fact yesterday was a really good day. I wrote almost 11k in a new story in the Guardians universe. Lately I am finding a lot of new words and characters to work and play in Harry’s part of my worlds. Yesterday I met Lee, a thirty something quiet type of person who is a part of the Hidden. Those magic or will workers who don’t want the world to know what they are. Thos3e who haven’t quite melted into the Other society and are afraid of how the regular human would deal with them.

I was really affected by her story. She had me in literal tears in parts! I don’t usually cry when I am writing fiction. Writing poetry, yeah that can make me cry cause itis all about my emotions, but a piece of fiction? Well yeah that was a new one. She will be dealing with people based off of real people in my past of course and even a scene or two out of my memories. Plus she will be interacting with other characters who I haven’t finished their tales yet. So very many characters are clamoring for their own stories to be told. here is hoping I can get their stories out this year.

Now to peak the curiousity of my faithful and patient followers here is the opening to Lee’s story, I will Protrect you”

I will Protect you

a guardians of the gate city side story

by Lisa Williamson

Magic can be really individual. One person can have the ability to call fire, another ice, but it still magic. In this world those of us that can use magic or are magic ten to hide in plain sight. Like all the fae and shifters, we have found ways to blend in with the overwhelming amount of normal everyday humans.

Now I’m not claiming to be anything like a fae or shifter. No, I’m just your average, quiet type who fades into the background most days and that is how I like it. I get up, put on my work face and spend the better part of the day being a voice on the phone at a call center. I t doesn’t pay lots like some seem to think. Just an hourly rate with a little extra from taking orders, enough to pay rent on the one bedroom apartment I live in and food for my little friends.

You see I really prefer animals to humans. Not surprising after eight hours dealing with both coworkers and customers right? I’m not a social butterfly like many of those in my office. I prefer my home, a good book and music over going to a club with the people I have to spend hours with.

I keep my space at work bare of most things except the tiny altar I set up. Now to most it just looked like a pretty glass ball with flecks that shimmer in the right light. In reality it was a warding anchor I had made. Inside the thick globe of glass was tiny mental representations of the elements and when I shake it and whisper, a simple shield springs up around me just big enough to cover my cubicle. It was something simple and it kept the annoyances to a minimum.

You see my special magic is shield and bindings. Years ago I learned that I could manipulate the energies of the universe, if in a minor way. I had found out by surprise that I could bind things by simply closing my eyes and focusing on holding the energies with my mind. I can even bind the power of another will worker.

It was an emergency at the time I first did this, so it ended up stronger than I meant. You have to understand that I did it to save a friend’s sanity. He was unable to control the dark magic that washed through is blood. He was a good young man who had a bit of a temper. Once his temper allowed the magic out of the tight bonds he kept around it and he nearly killed me and the one person dearest to his heart. I managed to lock it down tight, sadly it had more of an effect than I intended.

Stay tuned for other excerpts of my WIP and updates on other things.

Hello again

Yup I’m back. Been a long while. I am working on a new novel, titled Peaceful Interludes. This will be the forth Loralil book. Here is a brief sneak peak of the very rough draft:

 

Peaceful Interludes

It had been six months since the gate had closed on the face Jason longed to see. He knew it was unlikely that the young Elvin woman he had helped bring here even remembered him, but her beautiful, if haunted eyes had stuck with him. Ever since the early tales about her told by his father, something had driven him to meet her. His Oma said that he had a bit of a white knight complex and that he should just move on. That the elf woman was most likely gone now, still he decided to go visit her. It was the Equinox and a great time for finding out just how life would balance. He felt deep inside that this day would be a tipping point, both in his life and her own.

****

Loralil sat, eyes closed, in the mediation garden. Here the elders had taught her tools to deal with her grief and her guilt. In the six moons she has been here the world has slipped from summer to winter. Her breath sent gentle plumes into the brisk air, but the chill did not bother her, or more she ignored it. She listened to the quiet, still voice from inside, hoping for some hint on just what she should do. She did not wish to leave this garden, but the city itself was like any city it seemed. Though small compared to the great human cities, this place was filled with too many people. People who wanted her to DO something. Just what depended of course on the person.

The craftspeople would come up to her at meal times, asking probing questions about how things were done back in her village. Did the potter use red or white clay? The carvers wanted to know if she remembered the way they depicted the leaves and animals and worse, the metal workers wanted to see her father’s sword.

After a month her belongings had been returned to her, left bundled up on the cot in her cell like room. She left it wrapped up in the silk that someone had gifted her. The magic sang quietly to her ears from the chest at the foot of her cot each night. Sung songs of battle and blood and defending those who could not defend themselves. She had only touched it once, the day it arrived. The longing to take it up and slay all who had harmed those she loved was too strong and she knew that she was not ready.

The charm that she had been gifted by the beautiful bard she had woven into the single braid she wove into her hair by her temple. It too called to her, but in a much softer voice. Music was something deep down inside that she longed for like a lotus eater craved his drug. Someday she would once more use the simple magic to bring the tiny harp to size and play, but not yet. She wasn’t sure when, but not yet.

When the temple bell tolled she sighed and opened her eyes. It was the Equinox, the day when the day and night were in balance and things would change. How much she didn’t know, but she knew things had to. She had found some peace here at this temple, but it was not where she was meant to be. Just where she didn’t know and knew she was not yet ready to go out and find her destiny, but something had to change. She couldn’t stay with her head buried in the sand and mediate. The Masters here wanted her to start lessons, lessons she was not sure she wanted or needed. She was not a monk or a priest to follow their teachings. She had no power of healing in her hands and too much blood on them to believe she could be one.

Getting up smoothly, she stretched and then moved into a series of unarmed combat moves. While this place was filled with totally peaceful people, Loralil had found that the controlled movements of the martial arts were soothing after so many years living them. A wandering monk had stopped here for a single day, but he saw something in her. He joined her in the meditation garden and without a word slowly taught her this art. Maybe it had been the way she was holding her body, stiff and tense, even afraid she admitted to herself. In one day he taught her more about how to relax than the Masters had in over a month of discussion.

The exercises started slowly, like the temple dances that some of the young women did each morning in their worship, but they sped up until fists and feet flew in blocks and counters that she could easily see being used. She went through each set three times three before slowing and coming to a stop in the same place she started. Her skin glistened with honest sweat and she slowly brought her breathing back to something more in keeping with her sitting in a temple garden.

She kept her eyes closed and waited for the Master behind her to speak. She was sure she was in for yet another gentle, yet stern lecture about her need for violence, but was surprised. “Child, you have a guest waiting for you at the gates.”

Turning with a lifted brow, she followed Master Phaedra out of the garden and through the streets of the city. It was not at all common for guests to be left outside the gates of the city. All elves were welcome here, or so the carvings on the gate posts said. All were welcome, but not all were desired.

As they came toward the gates Master Phaedra paused and looked Loralil up and down. Dressed still in the simple flowing garments of a novice, the warrior was out of place here. She had been more than willing to accept this child of a lost people, but she did not like that the girl had held tightly to the path of a warrior. She silently refused to learn how to use and grow her empathic gift, only excelling at locking it up tighter stubbornly. She would never say anything, but she truly wished that this child would give over her father’s path and become what she could see in her.

“The young man who brought you to us is here. He wishes to speak to you.”

Loralil paused, her head tilted like a bird, listening. She had not expected Jason to return here. It had been obvious that he had been intrigued by her. But rarely had any young male stayed that way. He was a handsome man. A perfect blending of his Elvin mother and his human father, he would turn heads at most gatherings. He was a bit raw, but interesting. Her lips tingled in a soft memory of a kiss that had surprised both him and herself.

Phaedra noticed the brief flash of interest in the usually shuttered eyes. Well, maybe there was something here. “We are at the Equinox and there is a custom here; that of a novice taking one day and night outside of the walls of our city. Every six months at the Equinox our young people take this time to blend with the people below and to decide if they wish to continue their training. I think , young one, that you should go meet this boy and have a pleasant day.” The elder held out a small pouch to Loralil, who automatically reached for it. “Rooms are made available to all who spend the night and this should cover any incidentals that you decide you might need.”

****

There you go. No more for you greedy readers, but I assure you that was only the first two pages! Things get interesting of course with talk and emotions and then of course some action with bad guys and everything.

Enjoy what i have posted (I hope) and I will post bits and pieces from later in the book as I work.

Thanks for being patient my followers

Yes I am here for a moment.

Been a while huh?

Well I decided I needed to just post something. So here goes, something I worked on a long time ago and well I need to work on it again right?

******

The Club at the End of it all

by Lisa Williamson

Case looked about the club. It was packed to the walls with hot, young things in tight jeans or tighter dresses. Every color of the rainbow covered or didn’t, skin in shades of tan to black. Showing off women who wanted to be seen as young, tight and athletic. Girls who obviously spent their time in gyms and tanning salons or on the beach.

While they were all striking and beautiful they had a sameness that was getting boring. He could have any of these women for little more than a nod. Every one was here to be seen and to hopefully find a new sugar daddy. Sighing he reached for his whiskey and slugged it back. Signaling to Joey behind the counter, he ordered another.

“Seeing nothing you like tonight bro?”

With a single shake of the head Case sighed. “They are just so much of the same thing. Every one of them thinks they are unique but look at them. “ He gestured toward the nearest group of three. A blonde, brunette and redhead, each tall and slim with what had to be fake breasts.

Seeing his gesture they all turned on the lure. It was obvious that these three were together and hoping to convince him to join them in some group fun in the back room. They alternated arching their backs and licking their full lips. Case just shook his head and turned back to the bartender. “See what I mean? Wind up sex toys, all polished up and made to service.”

Joey nodded. He worked behind this bar six days a week and the man on the other side owned the club. Once they had been part of a team doing the impossible under conditions that none of the plastic people in this room would understand.

“It is near closing time, Case. Maybe you should just head down. “ Picking up the rag from behind the counter and he started polishing the counter. “I can close up tonight. Sally and Jennie have all ready cleaned out the private rooms. They had to push those three out of room two.” He grinned as he shook his head. “They are purely here to find something to play with. They came on to both girls and, “ he let out a chuckle,*they thought the three of them would be enough to get any man to give them a good time.” Joey said the last part with finger quotes.

Case lifted one dark brow at his friend. “Are you telling me they tried to get you back there?” When Joey nodded, he stifled a snort. While it wasn’t obvious when Joey was behind the dark oak bar, once he was out on the floor he towered over the crowd by nearly a foot. The bar had been specially made with a sunken floor so he wouldn’t intimate the customers.

Joey was not human. Like most of the people who worked at Club End he was a immigrant, a drop through. Case had found him on a frozen heath across the world from where they were now. He looked like a rather tall human but he was not. It was slightly amusing to the bartender that the human women in southern California seemed to believe any man would jump at a chance to bed them.

Sighing, Case nodded. Another night was nearly over, the whole feel of a club was getting to him. He needed to go out. Do a little hunting of his own. He started to turn toward the back when he heard Joey let out a low whistle.

Turning back toward the front of the club his eyes were drawn immediately to a woman standing in the doorway. Dressed all in red, some type of cloth that shimmered and flowed down a full figured body.

The woman shook back her hair so that it cascaded down her back in golden waves. Even in the dim lighting of a bar, her skin glowed like it was touched by moonlight. The triplets turned to see where Case’s attention had turned. He could easily hear them calling the woman a cow but he found he couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

She stepped forward, her long full skirt swirling about her booted ankles. Where the other women in the room all had short skirts and lots of skin showing, this woman was covered from shoulder to fingertip and down to her ankles. There was a hint of cleavage and leg as she walked, just flashes of pale skin.

With a faint smile of her rose colored lips the mystery woman headed his way. She moved lightly with the grace of a great cat. A serious woman looking for something is how she felt as she passed the tables. Halfway to the bar one of the suits who stopped by looking for something fresh to play with reached out to stop her. Placing a hand on her arm to pull her in, the man froze. She leaned down, said something too soft to be heard and the man scooted back, shaking his head. She smiled slowly and sighed then stepped away.

“Well that was interesting.” Joey leaned on the bar. “Harold doesn’t back off that quick usually.”

Case agreed. Harold came into the club once a month and usually had to be escorted out when he pushed a woman too hard. It was obvious that the Lady in Red was something new. And new was looking good.

As she neared the bar, she paused for a moment, looking over both Joey and Case. An almost smile was pasted on her face but something told the men she wasn’t happy. Her eyes were covered by a pair of dark glasses even in the dim light of the bar.

The half gloves that covered her hand showed the red painted nails clearly. They were a match to the lipstick she wore. Taking a soft breath that lifted a pair of truly impressive breasts she stepped the rest of the way to the bar. Lifting one finger she softly ordered a glass of wine before turning to Case. “I am sorry if I disturbed your client, sir.”

Her voice was soft and melodious. It purred in a man’s ear like steamy sex and made both Joey and Case lean closer. Case shrugged as he caught a whiff of her scent. It called to a part of him he did not expect on this world. She smelled of home but women from his home didn’t look like this one. “Harold had it coming.”

She smiled and saluted Joey as she took a sip of the wine. They both watched as she swallowed and then shifted. Just that simple motion of her throat caused reactions deep inside the watching men. She placed the glass down and turned back to Case. “I hope you are the man I am looking for.”

Lifting a brow, Case shrugged. “Guess that depends on who you are looking for Lady.”

Sighing, she reached up and pulled a small card from the slit just above her cleavage and handed it to him. She shivered as his fingers touched hers. “I was told I could find help here.”

Case flipped over the card and then his eyes narrowed. He handed the card to Joey and drummed his fingers on the bar. “Where did you get this?”

“A mutual friend,” she said as she looked off into a distance. “I hope at least he was one.”

Stiffening, Case reached across to grip her fingers. “Was?”

She hissed and shuddered as he held her fingers and then licked her lips and then pressed them together. “Yes, was. The reason I am here.”

Joey cleared his throat. “Room six.”

Case nodded and tugged at her fingers. “Yes I think privacy is in order for this.”

He could feel her trembling as he held her hand and pulled her closer.

Whispering, he leaned in. “Do I need to lead you or will you come willingly?”

She shook her head once, then took a long breath. “I need to speak to you each Lieutenant. At the same time. Can one of the women take over for your second?”

Case signaled to Mary to take over the bar and Joey nodded. He scooted out the back of the bar, slipping around the room more quietly than a man his size should move. Letting her fingers go he saw her shake herself and then she followed Joey. He watched her hips sway in the long skirt. A part of him wanted to take her to his private play room but most of him wanted to know how she knew is old rank and how she knew of Charlie.

 

Shaman Tales: Mammal Lessons page

Elsi’s Tale page twenty

Tales from the Shell, page three

Next pages or whoa what a minute

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As i said last time I am working on an illistrated story right now. Not quite a web comic in style but not like most illistrated books either. I now have a total of nine psges written up and illistrated. They need to be inked and colored before i post them in my deviantart page.

As it was sorting through my drawings i noticed that i have enough partially done drawings of dragons to do another story,..so who knows I might just start a series of these things.

Now here are some quick photos of the upcoming pages Not in any order…so if you want to read it you will need to go to my deviantArt page. Just look for suteko-williamson.

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Okay only one more here but I am working on the inkung and  ore drawings. I promise this will be much better looking soon.

A possible sequel

Okay I admit I have been a lazy writer type. Not working like I should but I haven’t been totally lazy. I have bits and pieces of notes scattered through my notebook. This little bit is something I have been playing with.

Billy Blackcrow is a crow shifter who first appeared in To Save Face or Family. He is a fun loving character who joined the Firm as a way to care for his murder of siblings and cousins. For those of you wondering that means thirteen crows. It is one of those fun terms that the english language has. Now this bit is totally rough.

********

Billy banked to the left, flirting his feathers at his cousin before catching an updraft and soaring out of the forest. He was due to check in at base, something that family didn’t understand. Crows were social birds who flocked together but they were rarely serious. Billy confused them with his trips to the city and his outclan friends.The fact that he reported to an eagle baffled the much younger siblings and cousins that he had taken charge of. They understood he worked with the outclan to protect them and get them the great roost they had but they didn’t understand continuing to do so. After all didn’t he suffer injury helping those outclan fox types?

They felt he should stay closer to home. Pick out a good crow girl and add to the flock like the clan leader he was now. Wasn’t that how it was done?

Air traffic over the Firm’s headquarters was interesting. He never knew just who might be coming in for new orders. Between the newcomers and the old agents plus all the normal birds, there was cast off feathers everywhere. He spiraled down, transforming back to human as his feet hit the rooftop. He waved to Raven, who was currently on watch. A cousin in a way, the larger black feathered bird was blending well with the local natural raven population.

His ability to talk to all the natural ravens in the city made him a valuable resource but Billy found Raven to be a bit arrogant and stuffy. But then pretty much every crow thought that of every raven. The fact that Billy was a shifter and Raven was of the spiritclans should have meant they would never even talk but when Billy’s clan had been almost completely wiped out by Strife Raven had helped Crane to bring his family to a safe place. While he still didn’t know Raven’s speaking name, he trusted the man.

**********

I have more to work on to get this going but the bits I added here made me write it down. Story fragments come to me every day and some I write down and others I ignore. It is interesting having a muse who only gives you tiny bits of tales to tall. here is hoping I can do more.

An excerpt from a new story idea

Yes folks I have been writing. As I have commented before I have had trouble working on one thing at a time and I have been bouncing between many bits and pieces over the past few weeks. Much of my notes have yet to be typed up but well these things happen. So how about I give you folks a new story idea? I have for years wanted to do a character who are born mute.

I am not saying she is deaf, because she is not. She simply has no voice with which to speak. She can see and hear but in a fantasy world how would one grow and what would you become if you could not speak? Could you do magic? Well here is the bit I have down now.

###

Running on swift and silent feet through the dark streets, Rebecca darted down a side street and slowed. Those chasing her were fiercely loyal the their masters. They would do anything they could to wipe her from existence.

She was the last of her family and the last of her kind. At a full head shorter than the average woman, Rebecca looked like a girl just coming to womanhood. She kept her hair shorn close to her head. The dark curls were hidden under the same scarf that hid her dark skin. The invaders of her home were tall and pale-skinned with eyes that glowed red at all times. When they first came to the city the gate watch had thought they were just a new batch of the northerners come to trade furs for the scented wood of the Cinnabar trees. They were so very wrong.

She only needed to run a few more streets and she would finally be able to do finish. She would be able to do what they had started out to do. Whether it would work she wasn’t sure. She was alone now, all the others had fallen, but she had to try.

#####

This little bit is from a tale I have tentatively titled Muted Freedom. No she isn’t a princess or a warrior. She is something else. I plan on a cross between a priestess and a dancer. For that is how she speaks. She dances her devotion to her gods and to her people. No this tale is not making a comment about race. Yes the villain are pale skinned but they are not white in the traditional sense. They are the white of dead bones, not the healthy color of northerners.

Yes it is sad that I will have to make sure to clearly type that. But that is what authors do. We write. We write characters of many typs. And I will continue to write characters as I see them. No matter the current political correctness that people expect writers to do if they want to sell.