Series

gotta fill up those blanks!

Not much to post. I’m working on my outlines for my two-part series. Because trying to balance my need to write with a full time job definitely takes up most of the evenings! So here’s my DWC! (AKA, the prologue to Book 1!)

Daily Writing Challenge

Day 6: How was your characters childhood? Write a scene about them as a child. How was their home life? Their family? Their upbringing? Where did they grow up? What friends did they have? 

May 12th, 1996

Ahh, sweet bliss.  Liesle settled into her overstuffed chair pulling a book Abbreviated Potions: Shortened Spells for the Witch on the Go! up to her nose.  It was her scheduled day off from her shop The Bubbling Cauldron, and she welcomed the break.  The girls were helping Mrs. Stevens clean out her garage today.  Yes, a quiet morning to catch up on modernized spells.

Whirr! The sound of a blender pierced through the manor, shattering any temporary moment of peace, followed by the sound of giggles. 

“What are you two little imps up to? I thought you were at Mrs. Stevens’ house,” Aunt Liesle asked, crossing her arms across her chest and raising her infamous ‘don’t mess with me’ eyebrow.

A spatula that seemed to be swirling a mixture of gooey chocolate icing on its own fell back into the bowl with an anticlimactic splat. Eyes looking up and widening slightly, Margaret who stood behind the bowl, stopped twirling her finger, leaving it stuck in midair as if she was interrupting someone to make a statement.  Lorelei gasped, turning around to look at Liesle, losing concentration on the blender she had been staring at. The blender had a surge of energy before stopping altogether, its lid flying off causing the contents to shower the three of them.

“Of all the boiled rats!” exclaimed Lorelei, as she wiped the strawberry milkshake from her eyes.

“Language, Lorelei,” said Liesle as she looked down to examine the pink globs that now stained her sweater.  Rolling her eyes as if to gain power from an unknown source, she sighed and looked back down at the girls.  “Now what is so important you had to turn my kitchen into a bomb testing site for?”

Margaret glanced at her sister. Lorelei just shrugged, and Margaret made a face at her.  Then, turning back to Liesle, squaring her shoulders, she replied matter of factly, “We thought you’d gone to the store to do inventory today.”

“Claudia is doing the inventory, and that is not an answer.”

Lorelei glanced at Margaret again and whispered not very successfully, “Come on, tell her. Our cover’s blown anyway.”

Margaret’s shoulders sagged as she sighed in only that way a twelve year old could. Looking back and forth across the now ruined kitchen, she spread her arms wide, palms up and said flatly, “Happy Mother’s Day.”

Liesle blinked at them for a moment. All tension melted away and she felt the prickling of tears at the back of her eyes.

“Oh, come here you silly ninnies,” she leaned down and opened her arms.  Margaret let a small grin show and ran over to the welcomed hug. 

“Well that was close.”  Lorelei blew out a breath she’d been holding, wiped more strawberry milkshake from her forehead, and ran over too.

“But your kitchen…” Margaret’s lower lip started to quiver.

Liesle smiled warmly at her niece.  “Nothing we can’t fix. Or haven’t you noticed, it’s already clean?” Liesle nodded pointedly behind them.  Margaret turned to look at the kitchen, whose cleaning sponges lapped at the walls, and the mop started swirling soapy suds across the floor.

Lorelei put her hands on her hips. “Hey, no fair! How’d you do that?” An indignant look of frustration crossed her face.

“I’ll teach you that one when you’re a little older and your powers are stronger.  You girls still need to do your chores.”

“Hmph.” Lorelei now crossed her arms across her chest.  She mumbled, “I still don’t see why I have to wash the dishes by hand when we have magic.”

“Darlings, you know what I always say…”

Lorelei dropped her arms as she and Margaret both answered in bored, singsong voices, “Magic is a gift and must not be abused.”

“Right. You need to understand that we’re lucky to have magic, and you must always appreciate it.”

Margaret’s grin spread a little wider.  “Well, we appreciate you, so that’s why we wanted to surprise you with your favorite chocolate chip brownies and strawberry milkshake for Mother’s Day!”

“Thank you girls,” Liesle laughed. “You’ve certainly made it a memorable one!”

the muse, thank you’s and guest blogs too!

So many voices talking in my head, so little time.

First of all, I want to say a huge Thank You to those who have read my blog and joined in as followers.  It blows me away that in less than a week someone has actually read this thing.  A writer can write all she wants, even get published, but is NOTHING without a reader!  So again, THANK YOU!

Since beginning this blog on Aug. 31, 2012, this process of writing every day has not only helped start swirling ideas in my head, but it’s also helped shape some characters.  Due to this blog (and your support), I just began jotting down summaries for a two-part series!  I have the heroes and heroines all ready to go and a common denominator linking them together.  Hopefully by the end of the week I’ll have a good outline mapped out for the first novel.  Even better would be both books, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves.  I still have to put in the full-time job aspect of my life.  For now.

Speaking of jobs, it rhymes with blobs, and adding a “-g” you get blog.  (Nice transition, eh? My husband, Pilot loves The Music Man.)  Today marked my first submission as a “guest blogger.” Never been a guest blogger before. Then again, I’ve never been an actual blogger until this week. If he likes the article, then we can march right into successful guest blogger.  If my submission is given the “ok,” I’ll let you know.

Have any of you ever guest blogged?  If so, what was your topic?

Well, nothing else left to report. I’ve got a two-book series to start!

Daily Writing Challenge

Day 4: What world does your character exist in? Real or imagined? Scientific? Fantastical? Write a scene where your character is shown in their world.

This is a scene taken in a fictitious town, deeply hidden in the mountains.

Brigitte tends to her plot, her hands chapped and worn from removing weeds and clipping dead brush.  Standing back up, she stretches her back, lifting her hand to shade her eyes.  Viktor is here.

She looks down the path from her stone cottage.  Settled up the mountain a few miles from town, the view made her breath catch in chest as it did every morning.  The stream caught the light winking back its cool temptation to her.  

 Maybe he will join me for a swim.

Hearing hooves pounding the packed earth approaching her cottage, she dusted off her hands as a man on horseback appeared up the path.  Brigitte feels a warm smile spread across her face and waves in anticipation.

As Viktor opens his mouth in greeting, a piercing sound echoes from the nearby woods. Then, the thunderous roar of a bear. A sense of dread washes over her as she next recognizes the swansong of a dying man.  Viktor reaches out to her, his previously gentle face now hardened, his brow furrowed and lips pressed into a grim line.

“We must hurry.” It wasn’t a question.

She grasps his leathered hands and he lifts her in front of him onto the saddle. Each rider silently prays while flying through the woods.

The usual crisp mountain air is tainted as the forest holds a fog of sharp copper, flooding her lungs with its pungent aroma.  As they reach a clearing, the bear appears to have gone.  On the ground was a sight that made Brigitte’s heart drop to her stomach. The attack is apparent and unforgiving. Gashes from claws, sharper than any sword have stripped the trees of their bark, the deep impressions of fingernails in the soft earth leaving channels of a man being dragged against his will.

Facedown in a pool of blood, his shirt slashed and tattered, stained with the dark purple-crimson of a fresh wound, staining the lush moss littering the ground. His shoulder-length hair stuck to his face, tattooing his features with red. A stranger to these lands.