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I’m back and writing

Yup finally I have a working netbook to type on. I found I couldn’t work on a tablet. They are great for games and social media but not so great for typing up my next book or whatever. So This morning I sat down and banged out this bit. Not sure where it will be going but it is a start after a year off right? Let me know what you think if anyone is still reading my blogs.

This new piece is titled A Welcome Place


Magic. Something that is considered fact, phony or something tat only fools believe in. And that is how we want it.The way the world has gone those of us who pratice the magical arts know better than let the normals know we exist. We hide our talents under more normal seemings. From the alchemist who hides his potions under the guise of the local pharmacy to the illusionist who works on the Vegas Strip, we are out there among you.

I decided that it would be best to hide myself in a kitchen. Not a fancy resturant kitchen or a hotel but in a homeless shelter. Everyone deserves a good meal and the challenge of taking donated food stuffs and making them healthful was right up my alley so to speak. While I could have made more money feeding the rich, it really didn’t matter to me. Money was something easy enough to come by if you are a practioner. I had money socked away in various banks and lock boxes. Enough to keep me feed and a roof over my head at least.

It was a cold and rainy Tuesday when a man in a tattered tenchcoat walked into the little hole in the wall soap kitchen I was working at. The place wasn’t much but the word had gotten around that you could get a tasty stew and a cup of really good coffee so I had regulars coming by. I didn’t recognize this face though.

I am not a short women really. At five foot five I was pretty average. Heck all of me is pretty average. Sorta blonde brown hair worn in a sloppy bun, faded blue eyes and lightly lined skin. I knew I could pass for anywhere from thirty to sixty and I made sure no one really paid attention to me. I wanted the clientele I helped to remember the food and not the woman servingit.

This guy was tall and I mean tall. He had to duck to enter the doorway. Now that average doorway into most places was generally around seven feet up but this is an older building and the outside door was only six feet. This guy was easily a half foot or more taller than my door. He was soaked through that tattered coat and I could here his boots making squelching noises as e walked. He wore a gray hoody under the coat and had the hood pulled up. It drooped down to his eyes from the contained water in it.

Before he was halfway across the room I had a bowl of soup and a big mug of steaming coffee on the counter. I reached under the counter and grabbed some of the hot bread I kept in a napkin covered basket and slid it next to the bowl with a big spoon. “This should warm you up. Take off those wet coats and I will check to see what I have in the back.”

He stopped at the counter looking down at the steaming bowl. He slowly peeled off the coats, placing them on the stool next to him before sitting down. “Thanks.” His voice was deep, rumbling like a rock pile rolling down a mountain. He didn’t look up but I smiled anyways. For a man so wet and obviously tired he was polite. Something you don’t see at real restuarants.

Under the coats he had on a faded red flannel shirt over a very white t=shirt. His jeans were ragged but like the shirts looked very clean. Everything about him seemed to say down on his luck but not down on himself.

When I went back to see about a sweater in his size I nudged the heat up a couple of notches. The soup kitch I ran was really barely bigger than the living room in most apartments. I had four tables and the counter with about a half dozen stools set up. Not a lot of space but then I wasn’t a big church or government run place. Luckily in my backroom I had shelving set up with the various clothing that I knew would be needed by my clients. From big stacks of socks, gloves, tshirts and hats to the various shirts, sweaters and pants that I had caged from a number of discount stores and donation boxes. Nothing fancy but every bit clean and warm and necessary. Yes I even had undergarments for those kids who came in with absolutely nothing but the clothes on their back.

When I came back to the front, my guest had all ready finished his bowl and bread and was sipping the coffee. Looked like he hadn’t added any of the milk or sugar I had sitting on the counter. “Here you go. Put this on. If you like I can toss your hoody in the dryer, maybe even that tranch if you like.”

He studied me fro under heavy black brows for a long moment before setting down his mug and answering. “That would be a kindness, mam.” He looked like he wanted to say more as I came around the counter but he stopped a bit startled.

See I may be one of the hidden but there is a good reason in my case. Generally those who can actually find my place have a touch of the Hidden themselves. They come in all hours of the day and night and they know they will be safe and get that warm meal they or clothing that they need. Behind the counter , no one can truly see all of what makes me different unnless I want them to.

I am not sure exactly why I decided to step out with this stranger but I did. I generally wear long sleeves and skirts to cover up what makes me different than your average woman. The sleeves cover the tattoos that are not simle pretty images that the kids wear and the skirts, ah the skirts. Once, years back I was caught by those who believe. Those who think that anyone like the hidden most be demon touched and therefore much be punished. I spent a week in the tender care of some very fundamentalist folks and when I managed to excspe I needed medical care. My left leg is a mass of old scars and pins.

When the police had found me dragging my battered body down a dirt road in the midwest they thought I had been either in an accident or a victim of some serial killer that had been running loose then. I tried telling them about the Farm and those who I had left there. Whether they believed the version I spun them or not the place was closed down and the bodies that had been dumped in a common grave were disinterred and sent to their families. I spent two weeks in the hospital under a name not my own before I managed to sneak out with help.

The brace I use on bad days was a careful construction of metal and padding and put a lot of people off. Not sure why it did but it kept too many from bothering me when I was out on the streets and seemedto make donations better than they could be.

He cleared his throat, obviously wanting to ask me about it and I just shrugged. “Accident, things happen.”

He seemed to take it at face value and shrugged into the sweater with a deep sigh for the warmth. As I said it was damp and cold outside and he looked like he had been out in the downpours that had been going on and off for the past four days. “Is there something…”

I smiled and chuckled. It was common for the new clients to want to help out somehow. Like getting a free meal or clothing was just not right. “If you like I have a sink full of pots and pans needing a good scrub.”

He nodded and stood to follow me. “By the way stranger it helps if I have a handle to call you?”

“People generally just call me Mike.”

I could tell that wasn’t his actual name but it was something to call him. “Okay, Mike it is. Now the kitchen is to the left. I’ll pop these into the dryer while you get started.”

He went right to work and I smiled as I put the coats into the big dryer I had in the storeroom. Now generally I just toss things in without a thought but since it was just me and Mike in here I whispered a little charm and the dryer started up with just the right amount of heat to dry his stuff but not damage it.

A part of me, the part that makes me one of the hidden, knew that the man in my kitchen was more than he seemed. It was out of ordinary for a man to be as tall as he was for sure but I had met normals who would be that tall. No it was the fact that he saw throug the seeming I toss on each morning covering the brace on my leg.

You see in the neighborhood I ran mmy place out of any sign of disability will get you robbed without a thought. Wile I only left my place two or three times a week I learned early on to hide anything making me different via glamour. Now you might not know of glamour, that simple ability to cloak or even change your outward appearance. It was a trick one of the Friendly Neighbors taught me. The eldest of races that like us magic folk hide in plain sight to most.While the legends made them tricky or nasty they were quite kind to us hidden folks.

My home and business was contained within the four walls that most saw but thanks to my friends this space was much bigger on the inside than the out. Yeah kinda like that science fiction show from across the pond. No I don’t play with time. That can quickly get you splattered, no matter what the science fiction writers think. No they just gave me a bit ore space to move about. The main room, the kitchen and the backroom were all normal, seeable by the few normals who frequent my soup kitchen. But through a hidden door I had a small and comfy apartment of my own.

While Mike washed up the dishes from the breakfast meal and his light meal I slipped into my space and pulled out my bag. Like an old fashioned wise woman I had my tricks, spells and a few other things tucked away in a bag that looked a lot like a battered old leather messenger bag. One of the things I can do is pull out exactly what I need for a spell or cure without looking. Took me a long time to get that little spell working and hidden but it made my life much easier. Pulling out the holey stone that I had strung on a cord, I put my bag back on the shelf and headed back.

Now for those of you not in the know, a holey stone is a river washed stone where the water has worn a hole in the center. A bit of the river’s natural magic. The holey stone is used by those whWho know to see past glamours to see the actuall face of the being beefore you. Now in most cases this only worked to let a normal see the true face of the Friendly Neighbors but thanks to my heritage I could see more. I could see just what a man was. If I had used one all those years ago maybe I wouldh’t have ended up with the scars and pis from the Farm.

When I softly shut the door I could hear Mike humming along to the music that I had playing in the kitchen. No matter if the place was empty or filled I always had music playing in the background. I might not be a bard, like some friends of mine but the gentle magic of soft music will defuse most trouble in my place.

His voice was deep like I said before but you could hear that the man knew music. His voice slid over and around the instrumental piece that was playing. It made you want to sit back and just listen. Made me wonder if maybe I just found another bard type..I may have made it sound like I currently knew a bard but they are a rare and far between type of mage. The lastI knew to speak with was well over twenty years ago. He had gone to live deep in the northern woods, far from most humans. He couldn’t deal with the modern music that was blasted everywhere.


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.


Okay I have been busy

Yeah I know, I should have been writing, should have been paying attention but well I have been busy. So how about a drabble for the wonderful holiday just past?


Walk with the Pumpkins

By Lisa Williamson

Come with me, my little friends, along the pathway of flickering light. See the pumpkins all lined up in the dark. Stay on that path, children, for there are dangers in the dark. Ghosts, goblins, vampires and devils will grab you if you don’t stay where you are told.

What? They don’t exist? They are just stories told by parents to make you behave? Go ahead, step off the path. I dare you to do it. Oh now you won’t try it? Then how about I just blow out these lights and show you what really hides in the dark?

Seasonal Drabble: The Pupkin King

Here I sit in the field, waiting for the moon to rise. In lonely splendor I glow a brilliant orange. Forgotten by those hunting for their special perfect round one, I am more than they know. See the moon rises and so do I. I slowly push up from the ground, my roots tearing from the soil that nourished me. I stand and a grin breaks across my face. A eerie glow filling the field from my eyes. It is Halloween and it is my time now. The night when magic rises and I am once again the Pumpkin King.

Yes I am still around

For those of you who have been wondering where I went over the past few weeks well I have been working on turning my novels, collections and illustrated stories into sellable books. I have turned a lot of my work into paperbacks hoping that I will get some more attention.

If you are interested you can find my paperbacks of the following books on Amazon.

As Lisa Williamson

Beyond Realities

Fall Into Nightmares

Death Walks Through

Distance Means Little to Love

Echoes of Elder Times




Where Angels No Longer Tread

Generations of Love

Guardians of the Gate City

Love Loss and Lonelines

Magic and Nightmares

Mythos of Love

Pleasant Moments

Quick Flashes of Fiction

Reflections in Drabble

To Save Face or Family

The Traveler

Worlds Apart

As LA Mason

If I could Fly

Yes I have others I haven’t yet turned into paperbacks but I am taking a break because it can be very frustrating to do this. I am still working on the various illustrated stories I have been posting. I need to remove my handwritten words and type them in to be easier to read. I have also discovered that the multiple tales I have need more work to be considered finished. Hopefully the children’s and young adult stories will catch an audience.

For those of you who have read my work, I do thank you. While very few of you have gone on to review them at least a handful of you have tried out my various stories.

I will get back to publishing on my various blogs the items that they are for. Expect new tales, new reviews, new photos, new recipes and so much more when possible.

Shaman Tales: Mammal Lesson page eleven


Shaman Tales: Mammal Lessons page