Posts tagged ‘Echoes of Elder Times’

Ready, set, edit!

Yup I have done it. I have finished up the first draft of Escape. It is now sitting and perking for a few days before I go ahead and start the editing process. Topping out at 54,903 words before I start the edit, it is a novel (yes i know some of you think it is too short!) Now I will be going through, fixing typos, trying to get the grammar right, placing those dratted commas I always miss and if necessary adding or deleting part of the text that does not work for me.

At the same time i am working on the editing stage of my next collection, Echoes of Elder Times. Not the biggest of my collections at only 23.638 words so far, but it contains all of the Echoes stories so far released. Like with my other collections (that i released that is) there will be commentary about the stories, notes if you will. I hope to have it finished up by the end of September. Work on the cover will be my main focus for the next few days. I have a fun image but the text or font is just not right and I plan on playing around till it is in photoshop.

In a day long spreadsheet binge I totaled up my finished works (mostly) and found I have really been writing hard over the past two years. With 840K+ in finished stories from drabbles to epics, I have been writing hard and fast. Yes, some of my work needs a professional edit, but for now i have to rely on all the editing programs I can find and the good friends who are willing to beta read for me. Someday every single novel and collection will be professionally edited by at least three people but that won’t happen till I start making serious sales.

Next week I will have hopefully worked out the next project I will dive into headfirst. As many of you know I have a very large file of work in progress that i need to clean out. I never throw out the old partial stories and ideas I have because I never know when the bones of an old tale will turn out to be something amazing. Where Angels No Longer Tread and To Save Face or Family both started out as something else entire, as did my current project, Escape. I will go more into that feature of writing over on Suteko’s Blog instead of here.

For now you can look forward to a new collection of previously sold as singles short stories with a surprise or two added in for fun. My Labor day sale got me all of two sales, so my prices are going back up.

For the next few months you can expect this for a pricing structure:

Short stores 99 cents

Novellas and shorter poetry collections $1.99

Novels and longer collections $2.99

Long poetry collection $5.49…this is because Love, Loss and Loneliness has fifty full color photographs in it

My two collections, Gates and Naughty Interludes, will stay at what ever price the publishers want them to be till I regain my rights to the tales inside them.



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.