Progress Report

Yesterday I was able to cross off a major project on my list. That's right, the rough draft of Obsidian Sky, the final novel in my upcoming Dark Sky trilogy, is done!

So does this mean the book is done? Ha! I wish. To be honest, the draft is a bit of a mess. At the end, I kind of scrambled just because I wanted it finished. There were a lot of dragged out scenes and some confusion when it came to technical stuff. Hence the phrase rough draft. That being said, I feel truly accomplished that this series is nearing completion. In the next few weeks, I'm going to be reading over and editing Obsidian Sky at a base level, then moving on to connecting the series as a whole. I'm still aiming for a February 2016 release date for the first novel, Crimson Sky, and will be hunting for both an editor and a Beta reader in the near future. If you're a fan of horror/steampunk/vampires/all of the above and are interested in Beta reading for me, please send me an email at amybraunauthor (at) gmail (dot) com. 

Speaking of editing, I'm going to try to get the second Cursed novel, Dark Divinity, to my editor soon. This week, if I can. A lot of people have been asking about the sequel to Demon's Daughter (and all of you rock!), and it is still scheduled for an early December release. Over the next month or so (I hope), expect to see everything from the synopsis to the cover art to the first chapter, which will be on my press release page. I'm super excited about the sequel, and hope readers enjoy it as much as they did Demon's Daughter. And of course there will be giveaways, just like I'm still giving away a signed copy of Demon's Daughter to one lucky winner! Read the contest rules here, and remember that the deadline is this coming Monday August 10!

With all this going on, you might assume that I'm not working on another, new project... You assume very wrong, my friend. While you're reading this blog post, I'm currently working on revamping and rewriting a series very close to my heart– the Areios Brothers. Since I'm still working out the kinks, think of it like the TV show Supernatural mixed with Percy Jackson. Two brothers descended from Greek gods fighting monsters for a living. I've written some novels (completed the rough drafts), and while I'm very happy with what I wrote, I wanted to give the series more. I want it to be diverse and memorable because I know that if I do it right, there will be lots of excited readers. To have a taste of what's to come in the Areios Brothers series, check out my very, very old 500 Word Challenge posts. Skip the news (it doesn't really apply anymore), and just enjoy a fast, free read!

And that's what's going on, and coming up! I'm super excited for all of it, and can't wait to share the end results with everyone. Until next time!

Cheers!

Amy

500 Word Challenge: Siren's Song

Challenge: During the story, there is a terrible misunderstanding. The story must have a mermaid in it.

- - -

    My brother and I had been asked to dispose of a mermaid seducing the swimmers at Hermosa Beach. It was a freelance job, so we didn’t have to arrest or kill her. We just had to convince her to leave.
    The problem was that she wanted to take me with her.
    I was standing on the rocks of the beach across from her, my arms folded over my chest. Liam was standing a healthy distance at my back, watching carefully. A few weeks ago he’d been seduced by a succubus and attacked me, so I decided to handle this myself and have him as backup. He’d complained, but my brother was helpless against pretty women.
    “Please understand, I do find you beautiful. But I have duties here on land. I can’t come with you,” I said, as delicately as possible. This one was a mermaid-siren hybrid. Offending her would go very badly for me.
    She pulled herself up out of the water to tease me. She really was beautiful. Her skin was a flawless pale green with a hint of shimmering scales starting around her belly button. Her dripping hair was navy blue and twisted with kelp, draping over her breasts and barely hiding her nipples. Her eyes were a stunning aquamarine, her lips pouty and just as sinful as her body.
    It was easy to see how so many swimmers had drowned giving themselves to her.
    “Come with me, Ares,” she sang, using her siren-powers to try and draw me in. I dug my nails into my biceps. “It’s so lonely in the sea.”
    I felt dizzy. She was strong. If I couldn’t convince her soon, I was going to fall into her spell and drown myself.
    “No,” I said, sharper than I intended.
    The mermaid-siren’s temper was shorter than I thought. Her beautiful face twisted into a scowl and she started to sing. The song was beautiful at first, pulling me closer to the water. I heard Liam yelling my name, but I couldn’t stop myself from walking towards her.
    I was kneeling on the rocks a foot away from her when she screamed.
    The sound of nails scraping down a chalkboard pierced my ears. I cried out and grabbed them, clenching my teeth as they started to bleed. My head exploded with pain. Cold, clammy fingers grabbed my wrist and start to pull.
    The scream suddenly stopped, the fingers jerking away. I took a deep breath, dropping my hands. My ears were still ringing, but I didn’t feel like my brain was going to liquify.
    I looked up. Liam was standing next to me, soulfire filling his hands. He stared fiercely into the water. The mermaid-siren was gone. I slowly pushed myself up.
    “I told you to stay back.”
    He gave me a sharp look. “I told you to be careful.”
    “Fair enough,” I admitted.
    Liam glanced at the sea, then back at me with a lopsided grin. “At least now we’re even.”

- - -

I was a little torn between keeping the mermaid aspect and making the mermaid a siren, so I did both. There was no rule that said I couldn't! I also thought it would be fun to do a little throw back to Looks Can Kill, the 500 Word Challenge where Liam was seduced by a succubus. That little idea hadn't been in the original plan, but once I considered the possibility, I couldn't say no!

Amy

500 Word Challenge: Don't Steal

Challenge: A character robs someone. A character becomes belligerent during the story.

- - -

    I couldn’t believe the guy was robbing us. I know that drug addicts don’t tend to think very clearly, or think at all, but people avoid robbing my brother and I.
    Mostly because we’re war-witches that are built like linebackers.
    But this guy had two advantages. One, he was a death-witch. Two, he had a gun.
    Death-witches are extremely dangerous. If they’re unskilled, they can cause excruciating pain to their victim. If they’re skilled, they can kill with a single spell.
    He was holding his gun out with one hand and building a spell with the other, but I could tell he wasn’t skilled with his magic. I was strong in combat and Liam was powerful with magic, but we were still human. Neither of us wanted to take a bullet, so we gave him all our money.
    “Gimme the rest!” he shouted, trembling black smoke forming in his other hand. I didn’t know what that spell would do if he used it. I didn’t want to know.
    “We did,” Liam said calmly. “We don’t have anything else.”
    “You got more! Inquisitors always got more!”
    I exhaled slowly. I didn’t like that he’d caught us on our way out of the office, while we were still in our Inquisitor uniforms. If we lost anything from our uniforms, our boss would skin us alive.
    Literally.
    “Gimme your belts!”
    Liam made an awkward face. I stared blankly at the robber. “Look, we can’t okay? You wouldn’t get a lot for them anyways. Just leave.”
    He scowled at me, then threw his spell at Liam.
    The black smoke hit his chest, making him cry out sharply and buckle a little. He clutched his chest and breathed in gasps. Every time he did, he winced in pain.
    The only reason I didn’t grab the robber and beat him to a pulp right then was because he shoved the barrel of his gun into Liam’s head. But I was furious.
    And you never want to piss of an Ares war-witch.
    “Damn. That hurt,” Liam breathed.
    “Shut up!” the robber shouted. He snapped his greasy head up to me. “Gimme your belt, or I kill the brat!”
    Liam lifted his head. “Did you really just call me a brat?”
    The robber raised his hand to pistol-whip Liam. But I moved too.
    I threw a blast of soulfire at him that engulfed his arm and made him scream. Liam suddenly shot up and punched the robber in the face rapidly.
    Soon enough, the robber was unconscious on the alley floor, and Liam was reclaiming our stolen items. I looked at the place the spell had hit him.
    “You moved quickly for someone who just had a pain-spell used on him.”
    Liam waved it off. “Pfft. That wasn’t a pain-spell. It was a stun-spell. Totally amateur.”
    I frowned. “Thanks for the warning, kid,” I grumped.
    Liam grinned at me. “Wouldn’t have been fun if I’d ruined the surprise, would it?”

- - -

I did some more test scenes for Hollow Hill today on the bus, and I think I'm close to getting the mindset of Derek and Liam. Right now the tricky part for me is figuring out how spells work for other witches. I know how it works for Derek and Liam, but everyone else is a little sketchier. I'll probably figure it out once I get going, though. I have a tendency to come up with ideas on the spot.

Only 3 more days!

Amy

500 Word Challenge: Thief

Challenge: The story must involve a magical grimoire in it. During the story, a character is attacked.

- - -

    “How much trouble will get in for this?” Liam whispered to me.
    I slipped my hand into the cabinet, reaching for the grimoire. “None. Unless we get caught.”
    My fingers brushed the leather book, and ran into the problem. “Shit. It’s warded. It’ll set off an alarm if I move it.”
    “Try the Indiana Jones trick. Replace the weight.”
    “That’d be a great idea, if I had a bag of sand.”
    I examined the warding. Tripping the alarm was inevitable, but...
    “Can you go invisible?” I asked.
    Liam glanced at me. “Sure. Why?”
    “I’ll give you the grimoire. You go invisible and get it out of here.”
    “What about you?”
    “I’ll be right behind you.”
    Liam faced me. “That’s what people say before they get trapped and killed. You don’t know what the spell will trigger, Derek. The book belongs to an ancestor of Poseidon. They aren’t exactly subtle types.”
    I looked at my little brother. “If you have another idea, I’m all ears.”
    He frowned. “How about not ditching you and running? Screw Isaacs orders. This isn’t worth it.”
    “The longer we stay here, the riskier it is. I’ll cloak myself, so get ready.”
    I moved before Liam could keep arguing. I lifted the grimoire out of its cabinet, feeling the warding snap and triggering the alarm. I shoved it into Liam’s hands. He took a deep breath, then completely disappeared. I turned to leave the room, ready to cloak myself, and was staring straight at the witch I’d just stolen from.
    He formed a circle in his hands, clear blue water forming between his palms as he created a ball of water. It happened so fast that I didn’t couldn’t do anything but pull on reactive adaptation.
    When the water hit my chest, the adaptation kept me on my feet. Then the witch moved the water up my neck towards my face.
    It started to freeze as it slipped into my mouth, biting its way down my throat into my lungs. I threw a blast of soulfire at him, hoping to scare him off with my fire magic. He stepped to the side, completely missing the fire. He held out his hand and manipulated the ice I was choking on.
    It tightened sharply in my throat. I would’ve gasped, but I couldn’t get air into my lungs. I was going to suffocate.
    A blast of fire came out of nowhere and slammed into the witch, making him scream. His scream ended when something hit him in the head, knocking him out before he hit the ground. Liam dropped his invisibility spell.
    The ice in my lungs and throat was melting, though I still felt like I’d been eating snow. Liam walked over to me and wasn’t satisfied until I straightened up and showed him that I was all right. He frowned.
    “Dude, never say ‘I’ll be right behind you’. How many movies do I have to make you watch until you get that?”
    When Liam’s right, he’s right.

- - -

I like doing these little shorts. As soon as I read the challenge, I take a couple seconds and think of a scene, and away I go! I'm still working on a couple ideas for the Hollow Hill universe, but I'm hoping to have those done by today or early next week. I'm also thinking about what sort of brief posts I should put on the blog during November, other than progress updates. Leave a comment if there's something you would like to read up on!

Amy

500 Word Challenge: Working Conditions

Challenge: The story takes place in the late morning. During the story, there is a fight. A character questions authority. A character becomes furious during the story. During the story, a character eats something they haven't had in a while.

- - -

    At about ten in the morning, Director Benjamin Isaacs called me into his office. Two hours later, I was still trying to make him understand: I didn’t work with anyone but my little brother.
    The Inquisition had kept an eye on us ever since we stopped our father from destroying the world three years ago. They thought that Liam and I were going to follow in his footsteps, something that couldn’t be less true.
    We were officially hired when Liam turned sixteen, and Isaacs tried to split us off with human Inquisitors. We were the only witches in the Inquisition, and that made us a liability.
    His plan hadn’t worked, partly because I didn’t trust anyone but Liam, and partly because no one else in the office trusted me.
    “It’s not happening,” I told Isaacs. “If Liam and I work here, we work together. That’s final.”
    He glared at me, his temper shortening as quickly as mine. “You’re out of line, Aerios. You remember what will happen if you and your brother back out of the deal.”
    We lose citizenship, are hunted, captured, tortured, and burned alive.
    “I remember. But I’m not changing my mind.”
    Isaacs put his hands on his desk, pushing himself up to look down on me. “I run this show, Aerios, and I say you’re getting a human partner. This isn’t negotiable.”
    I rose to my full height, reminding him that I was an inch taller and thirty pounds heavier than he was.
    “No, it isn’t. So I’ll say this once. Liam and I will take the jobs no one wants, the lowest grunt work. But we’ll do it together. If you assign me someone else, I’ll drop them without a second thought. This is my only condition, Isaacs. Be grateful I’m not asking more.”
    A chill rippled down my spine. I sounded like my father, the man I swore never to become. I was pissed, but I couldn’t keep threatening Isaacs. He was looking for an excuse to send thirty-thousand expert witch-hunters after us.
    If Isaacs was intimidated by me, I couldn’t tell. Despite my size, I was still a damaged twenty-two year old kid.
    “Oh, you’ll get the lowest. Just remember that you asked for it. Now get out.”
    I left his office. If I kept arguing, I would probably break something. Or someone.
    I walked to the desk I shared with my brother. I sighed and dropped into the chair across from him.
    “That bad, huh?” Liam said.
    “Yup. That bad.”
    Liam held out half a doughnut to me. I raised my eyebrows. “Are you serious?”
    “You haven’t had one of these in years,” he grinned.
    “Because I don’t want diabetes.”
    He rolled his eyes. “Dude, half a doughnut won’t kill you. Humor me.”
    Liam was always indulging himself. He’d never grow up, which was something I loved about him.
    I took the doughnut and ate it without arguing further. Some battles you want to win, and some you don’t.

- - -

With NaNoWriMo so close, I thought it might be time to delve a little deeper into the Hollow Hill universe. This short is a prequel set a couple years in the past, just as Derek and Liam start their work for the Neo Inquisition.

Since Hollow Hill is on my mind, I'll be doing a fair bit of background work before I continue with Cursed. While I was writing today's short, I realized that I don't have as much background on the world as I need, and that is a no-no in my book. Background is super important to me because it helps me understand the world my characters live in better. I have to write it down and know it so I'm not scrambling at the last minute to details and conditions. Any other writers have that problem or line of thinking? Or am I the only one?

Amy

500 Word Challenge: Lost In A Maze

Challenge: The story must involve a door in it.

- - -

    After Liam and I finish a job, escape usually isn’t hard. But we usually don’t have two angry war-witches chasing us through a maze.
    Our intel had been severely off. Instead of three witches, there’d been six. Like my brother and I, they were all skilled in combat and war magic. We’d been forced to kill them in self defence, but had taken a fair amount of damage ourselves. Liam had a bloody nose and a cut on his shoulder. I had a deep gash on my eyebrow, a slash along my stomach, and a couple cracked ribs.
    Things got worse when their two reinforcements showed up. I cursed our intel again as we ran. Liam was ahead of me, using the soulfire in his hand so we could see the path. It was a small spell, but it was draining his magic. I still had some, but not nearly enough.
    Liam came to a fork in the path, stopping so suddenly that I nearly bowled over him. He glanced left and right. I pressed my back to his and raised my sword.
    “Left door or right door,” he said. “Which did we come through?”
    The war-witches turned around the corner and threw soulfire at us. I grabbed Liam and moevd back. The magic fire scorched the hedges, making a burning wall across from us.
    “I’ll ask,” I muttered.
    One of the war-witches charged me, his sword raised high. I blocked it and kicked at his chest. He kicked my foot away and shoved me back, slashing wildly. Our swords crossed and ducked his punch to my face. He drove his knee into my stomach and I staggered back. He swung his sword towards my throat, and Liam threw a small blast of soulfire into his face. His magic was now gone, but the war-witch was screaming and backing away down the maze.
    That was when the second witch threw soulfire at Liam.
    I saw it coming and got in front of Liam, raising my sword in front of my face. Reactive adaptation kicked in when the blast hit me. The flames licked across my new, magically hardened skin, leaving angry red marks and using up the rest of my magic, but it didn’t touch Liam.
    The flames evaporated just in time for the witch to stab at me. I stepped aside at the last second, feeling his sword cut along my ribs. I drove my elbow into his face and slammed my forearm into his throat. I swung my fist into his head, dropping him onto the ground. Liam took his sword as I knelt down over him, pinning his arm.
    “Left or right?” I asked him.
    The witch glanced right quickly, then scowled. “Go to hell.”
    I punched him in the face and knocked him out cold.
    “Don’t we need an answer?” Liam asked.
    “Right door.”
    “How’d you figure that?”
    I looked at the unconscious witch and shrugged. “He had a bad poker face.”

- - -

The instructions left a lot to the imagination, so I figured an escape story was in order. :)

Amy

500 Word Challenge: Looks Can Kill

The challenge: The story must have a demon in it. The story must involve a quiver of arrows in it. A character is lustful throughout most of the story.

- - -

    The problem with fighting dark Aphrodite witches was that they tried to seduce you before they killed you. They were deceptively powerful, especially to descendants of Ares like my brother and I.
    Liam was dreamy eyed as the witches began summoning the succubus. They sang and danced around the fire, swaying in dresses that looked ready to slip off their skin...
    I shook my head. Focus, Derek. We’re here to kill the succubus.
    I prefer up-close fights, but getting close to an Aphrodite was deadly. She’d use a seduction spell, kiss me, and slip a knife into my ribs.
    So I’d brought a bow and arrows. A shot to the heart or head would kill the succubus, but then we’d have to escape from horny, angry witches. I looked at Liam. He was still transfixed on the steamy dance ahead of us. I nudged his ribs.
    “Quit staring,” I said.
    He blinked, but didn’t look away. “Right, yeah, it’s just... They’re so beautiful.”
    Suddenly the fire doubled in size, and the succubus rose from the flames.
    With pale skin, dark hair, and dangerous curves, she looked almost human. Except for the glowing red eyes and the black wings. She soaked up lust in the cave, getting stronger. The witches threw themselves at her feet and started screaming in pleasure while the succubus drained the life from them. I punched the wall and focused on pain to keep from giving in.
    I took an arrow from the quiver on my back and nocked it.
    That was when I saw that Liam had gone. I snapped my head up and watched my brother walking for the succubus, completely under her spell. Shit.
    “I feel your power, young Ares,” the succubus purred. Her sensual voice sent a shiver down my spine. “Come to me.”
    Liam didn’t even notice that the other witches were dead. He just kept moving towards the beckoning succubus.
    I pulled back on the bowstring, stepped out of hiding, took aim, and fired.
    Since I’d been avoiding Liam, my killshot missed.
    The arrow sank into the succubus’ shoulder. She screamed in rage, and I saw the demon beneath the beautiful woman.
    “Kill him!” she shrieked, pointing at me.
    Liam whirled and saw his enemy, not his brother. Liam formed a ball of soulfire in his hands and hurled it at me. I ducked behind a stalagmite as the blast hit the wall behind me.
    I nocked another arrow then twisted around the stalagmite and fired as Liam appeared at my side and punched me in the head. But my aim had been true.
    The arrow hit the demon right in the eye, killing her.
    Liam stopped, blinking in confusion. He saw the bruise forming on my face and was horrified.
    “Holy shit, Derek, I’m so sorry,”
    I gingerly touched the bruise. “I’m not mad, kid. You were spelled. It wasn’t your fault.”
    He looked at the dead succubus guiltily. “How’d you resist her?”
    I shrugged. “She wasn’t my type.”

- - -

I posted a story about an incubus about a month ago, but the first thing that came to mind when doing this one was a succubus. This story also gives a little more insight into the characters of Derek and Liam and the universe they live in. Only a week until NaNoWriMo - egad - so I don't mind teasing a little bit...

Love this image

Amy

500 Word Challenge: Holiday Hunting

Challenge: The story is set atop a tree. The story must have a goblin in it. The story must involve a javelin in it.

- - -

    Liam and I thought our boss was joking when he told us that a goblin that had been killing people. Then we saw photos of the bodies it had left behind, and it became our job to hunt it and kill it.
    After a couple hours of searching the forest where the attacks had happened, we had found its nest and followed it up a huge oak tree. But now we were stuck there.
    I kept a firm grip on my javelin and tried another upward thrust. The goblin, a scrawny, big-eyed, grey-skinned ‪Kallikantzaros‬, hopped to another branch and hissed at me, showing its shark like teeth. It swiped down at me with its claws, and I had to pull my hand back before its claws sank into me.
    I leaned back against a branch, getting frustrated.
    “If you have any ideas, now’s the time to share, kid,” I called to Liam, my eyes still on the ‪Kallikantzaros‬.
    “I left my good ideas back at home, along with my body heat,” he grumped.
    “At this point, I’ll take some bad ideas.”
    We were sick of being in this damn tree, unable to throw spells at the goblin because there were too many branches in the way and it moved too quickly.
    “I got it,” Liam said. He started climbing the branches, moving past me.
    “Care to clue me in?”
    “Just be ready,” he said.
    Liam positioned himself onto a branch under the ‪Kallikantzaros‬, its attention focused on him. Uh oh.
    “Liam,” I started.
    It was too late. Liam threw a small binding spell at the ‪Kallikantzaros‬. The goblin jumped aside, avoiding the spell, then launched himself at Liam.
    I hurled the javelin at the ‪Kallikantzaros‬ as soon as I saw my opening. The goblin screeched as the tip pierced through its heart, taking the weapon with it as it tumbled down the branches. Seeing that Liam wasn’t going to fall, I dropped down the branches to where the ‪Kallikantzaros‬ lay on the snow-covered ground. I nudged it with the tip of my boot to make sure it was dead. Liam dropped behind me and glanced over at him.
    “Your plan was to make yourself bait?” I asked sharply.
    “No,” he replied. “My plan was to paralyze it. My backup plan was to make myself bait.”
    I frowned. “That was a dangerous idea, kid.”
    “Yeah. But I’m cold,” he smiled, but saw that I wasn’t amused. “Besides, I knew you wouldn’t let me get hurt.”
    He was right. There was no point in dragging it out.
    “Come on, let’s get hot chocolate.”
    He picked up the dead ‪Kallikantzaros‬ then started walking away. I sheathed the javelin onto my back, grabbed a handful of snow, then rushed up to Liam and put it all down his shirt.
    He jumped and shook, trying to get it out. Now I was smiling. He whirled on me, a scowl on his face.
    “What the hell, Derek?!”
    I shrugged. “Consider it payback, kid.”

- - -

I know this story sounds like it should be taking place in December, but I got hooked on the idea and thought it would be a fun little short.

Now, I'm sure you'll all wondering just what the hell a Kallikantzaros is. Basically, it's a Greek Christmas goblin. Not very fun, right? You can get a little more information on them here, but don't get them confused with the French metal band of the same name. Accidents do happen on the internet.

Not what I would want to see around the holidays.

Amy

500 Word Challenge: Rescue Mission

Another adventure for Derek and Liam... Challenge: The story must have an air-spirit in it.

- - -

    Our bosses had put us on a rescue mission. That should have been my first clue that it was dangerous.
    The hostage was a cloud nymph. Liam worked with her clan to make a tracking spell to find her. Luckily, she hadn’t been taken far outside the state line. Unluckily, she’d been taken by Hades witches for a ritual.
    “So, they wanna burn her at a stake, absorb her ashes, then mix them in blood to bring light into the Underworld?” Liam asked me.
    I lowered the binoculars. “Yeah.”
    Liam dropped his head onto his arms. “Not awesome.”
    “Nope,” I said. “Which is why we need to rescue her.”
    “Yeah, but how?”
    “Distraction. You get their attention, I sneak in and get the nymph.”
    He frowned. “Sounds like a bad idea.”
    The witches started chanting louder. “We don’t have time for good ideas, kid. Let’s go.”
    The night sky and the intensity of the ritual made us less visible to the witches as we made our way down the hill. The nymph struggled and cried against the post she was tied to. Liam split away from me and I ducked lower, taking out the knife in my vest. I watched the six Hades witches continue to chant. Their leader, a broad, bald guy, used some magic to light a torch. The nymph cried louder.
    Then Liam caused an explosion.
    A huge fireball ignited on my right, getting the attention of all the witches. The leader shouted at his followers to go see what happened. I wasn’t worried about Liam still being there. He was smarter than that.
    Once the six followers left, I made my move.
    I’d hoped to sneak up on him, but he saw me out of the corner of his eye. He whirled and threw a binding spell at me. It would’ve paralyzed me if I hadn’t tucked and rolled at the last second. I came up in a crouch, the leader roaring at me and aiming a kick at my head. I caught his foot and drove my knife into his leg.
    He shouted in anger and pain, but I got up and kicked him. My foot hit his ribs, making him stumble but not fall. I rushed him, punching his torso. He snarled and twisted sharply, forcing my hands away from him. He tried to punch me, but I drove the heel of my palm into his chest then finished him off by roundhouse kicking him in the head.
    He wasn’t getting up, so I took my knife back and walked over to the nymph to cut her free.
    “Did you see that?” Liam’s voice called.
    I looked up at my brother. He was grinning from ear to ear.
    “That’s probably the biggest fire I ever made!”
    “You do love showing off, kid.” I looked at the nymph. Her eyes found mine, relief making them glow.
    “Thank you,” she said.
    Didn’t seem like much, but some days a simple thank you is all you need.

- - -

Only 9 more days until NaNo! I'm almost ready. I know I keep saying that, but I did some test writing this morning. I stress: Test writing. I'm not getting too attached to the scenes I'm playing around with because I'm almost definitely going to change them. But I need to test writing as Derek so I can better understand how his mind works.

Also coming up in 9 days is Halloween! Aka the best non-holiday ever! I'm still thinking about what to do for that day's challenge. I might write an AoL short since it's been a long time since I've written anything Leon and Jace related... Unless someone has a better idea? I'd love to hear what you'd like to read for a monster story on Halloween, so leave a comment in the section below! :)

Amy

500 Word Challenge: Back To Back

Officially back on the 500 Word Challenges. Today's was: The story begins in a crypt. There is a dramatic change in weather. A character drinks something they haven't had in a long time.

- - -

   This job couldn’t get much worse.
    First, it was the assignment to recover some booze from a Zeus-blood witch named Vince. Then it was having Vince manipulate the weather so that we were soaked in rain. After that, it was being punched in the head and being left behind.
    Derek wasn’t stupid, but he was an overprotective brother with a short temper. I’d gotten cracked in the head, Vince had taken off, and Derek had chased him into the crypt.
    I pushed myself up from the mud, muttering a quick pain-numbing spell to keep from passing out. I followed them out of the dark night into the dark crypt. I turned the corner and saw Derek throwing soulfire at Vince. They were pretty evenly matched, the fire from Derek’s hands just flicking past Vince. I realized that Vince was waiting for an opening.
    Before I could say anything, he took it.
    Derek didn’t have time to dodge, and the electric blast caught him square in the chest. His face contorted with pain as he dropped, and I knew his magic was spent. Vince wasted no time in creating electricity between his fingertips, then forcing it all onto Derek.
    My brother convulsed in pain, unable to create a spell to stop Vince. Anger coursed through me, and I drew on the blood-power of my ancestor Ares, creating soulfire. I built a quick ball of it, then hurled it at Vince.
    The ball struck him in the back and ended Derek’s electrocution. Vince turned on me, fury in his eyes. I got ready to use my magic, but Vince cheated.
    He pulled out a gun and shot me.
    One moment I was standing, the next I was on the ground. I hadn’t seen that coming, so I hadn’t made a shield in time. Pain pulsed through my chest, making it hard to breathe. Vince walked towards me, electricity building in his fingers. I couldn’t fight back, but I didn’t need to.
    Derek stabbed Vince in the back, piercing his heart and killing him instantly. Once he was sure Vince was dead, Derek dropped next to me and yanked up my shirt.
    He sighed. “That’s gonna leave a mark.”
    I looked at the bullet lodged in my Kevlar vest. “Chicks dig bruises, right?”
    “Always,” Derek said, pulling me up.
    He made sure I wasn’t hurt anywhere else, then stepped back.
    “I’m sorry I left you out there, Liam,” he said. “I just...”
    “Got pissed off and brotherly?”
    He stifled a laugh. “Something like that.”
    I waved it off. “No worries. I would’ve done the same for you.”
    Derek smiled admiringly, then glanced over his shoulder, seeing crates marked Ambrosia.
    “Looks like we found the booze.”
    “Think we can have some?”
    He grinned.
    “Well, there was gunfire. A bottle could have been broken by accident.”
    When we stepped out of the crypt later, drunk and feeling great, the sky was clear. The job had sucked, but the result had paid off.

- - -

I decided on writing the POV of Liam from Hollow Hill because there are only 10 days left until NaNoWriMo, and I wanted to slowly ease myself into the mindset of the universe. The story will be told from Derek's POV, but when I thought up the story it made more sense to tell it from Liam's perspective. I'm thinking about keeping up the stories for Derek and Liam, since I haven't written anything for them except a brief dream synopsis. Usually when I'm about to start a new story or series, I have a couple scenes in mind that I write down so I know how to write my characters. It's hard with Hollow Hill because I'm aching to get a head start, but this time I have to play by the rules.

Still, I can wait 10 days... :)

Amy

500 Word Challenge: A Grave Error

Today's Challenge: A character becomes attracted to someone during the story. During the story, a character discovers someone has been pretending to be them. The story must have a boatman at the end.

- - -

    It’s against protocol to be attracted to someone marked for death. Especially if you’re the one who’s supposed to take her.
    But I couldn’t help it. She was a beautiful creature, weaving through the Halloween party towards the river where I waited. She was dressed as a simple angel. White dress, white sandals, white halo, white wings.
    She couldn’t see me yet. That would change soon, and that was when Death arrived.
    He carried his bone scythe and through the shadows lithely. She couldn’t see him either, but he wasn’t supposed to be here. This was my pick up.
    Behind the woman came a drunk, angry mortal man. They began to argue, and I saw the light of her aura slowly start to fade. I walked towards the Reaper.
    “What are you doing here?” I asked.
    The Reaper looked at me without expression, because his face was a fleshless skull.
    “Oh, nothing,” he replied.
    I sighed. He was a new Reaper, collecting souls for the last few centuries. I had a millennia of experience. I crossed my arms, frowning.
    “Let’s see your papers.”
    If the Reaper could have frowned, he would have done so. Instead, he made an exasperated noise and rifled through his cloak. I looked over. The fight had become murderous. The angel on the ground, being strangled by the man. She kicked and fought, but her aura was becoming dimmer.
    The Reaper handed me his papers and I skimmed over them. I looked at him angrily. “You used my name?”
    The Reaper held up his skeleton fingers and backed up a step. “Look, if I don’t fill my quota, the Bosses will get pissed. You know how the guys Upstairs and Downstairs are when they don’t get souls.”
    Indeed I did, but this idiot didn’t need to know that. I drew on my power, making my body increase in size until I was ten feet tall and the width of a pickup truck.
    “This soul is mine,” I said, my voice booming. “She has been marked for me. Leave now.”
    I pulled back on the power and shrank to my normal size, but the intimidation still worked because the Reaper was speechless.
    “And get your damned paper work sorted out.”
    The Reaper nodded, vanishing into the shadows. I looked at the angel. Her mortal body had been destroyed, her pale, ghostly soul now hovering next to me. She watched the man continue to strangle her lifeless body.
    “That son of a bitch,” she said bitterly. “I dumped him, and he kills me? How is that fair?”
    She was feisty. I liked her. Her glazed, undead eyes met mine. “So, are you the Grim Reaper?”
    I almost laughed. “Not exactly, but I am here to take you to the other side.”
    She squinted, curious. “If you’re not the Grim Reaper, who are you?”
    “I’m Charon,” I said. “The Boatman.” I placed my foot inside my boat and held out my hand to her. “And your escort to eternity.”

- - -

Death has long been considered just this mythical thing that happens, but I always love it when people consider it a bureaucracy. I'm currently reading the Black Wings series by Christina Henry, and the main character is an Agent of Death, whose job is to escort souls to the other side.

As an addict of Greek mythology and someone who's interested in mythology from all over the world, I thought it might be fun to have two deaths from different cultures bumping in to one another. Who knows- if I'd had more words to use, I might have used them to get the Deaths talking fashion. They probably use the same tailor, after all.

Charon, the Boatman

Amy

500 Word Challenge: Twisted Vanity

Today's Challenge: The story ends on a boat. The story must have a witch-hunter/inquisitor at the end. The story must involve an earring in the beginning.

- - -

    Never let a vain witch rip your earring out. She’ll use your blood to cast a spell, and leech away your beauty. Along with your life force, if she’s feeling particularly nasty, which this one was. We stared at yacht at the dock. Liam frowned.
    “All this because the witch had one little wrinkle?” my brother asked.
    “Guess so. Let’s get the girl, get the witch, and get out.”
    “Who do you want?”
    I shrugged again. “You like pretty girls. I’ll take the witch.”
    We started walking to the yacht, loosening our hands and pulling on the magic in our souls.
    “Something tells me the witch will be prettier when we see her.”
    “But you’ll still be the hero.”   
    Liam grinned. “That’s the important thing, Derek.”
    The boat wasn’t warded, so we were able to step onto it without a spell triggering, and this witch was nobody special, so there weren’t any followers on guard.     I slipped below deck, Liam right behind me. We kept our footsteps as quiet as possible, but the stairs still creaked. There were muffled whimpers coming from the room ahead of us, so I peeked around the corner. A wrinkled husk was in a chair. The woman with the lost earring.
    The witch wasn’t in sight, and that bothered me. A quick trap might have been set when we were coming down, so I reached for my soulfire. Tingling heat flowed through me, forming in my hands. I sent a blast into the middle of the room.
    The beautiful witch screeched and exploded out of hiding, sending a powerful blast of energy at me. It slammed into my chest and forced me to brace myself on the walls, as Liam threw his own soulfire at her. She roared in fury, avoiding Liam’s spell. I shoved off the wall and tackled her. She screamed and beat at me with her fists, but I was built like a linebacker even without my reactive adaptation. She might as well have been hitting me with a pillow. A pillow that didn’t stop moving.
    “Reverse the spell, Liam!” I shouted as I tried to get my handcuffs from my belt.
    “No!” she screamed in anger.
    But Liam was already at the chair, freeing the withered woman from her restraints and reversing the spell. He’d always had more magic talent.
    I caught the witch’s wrists and snapped on an iron cuff. She howled again, but I slapped the other cuff on and muttered a silencing spell. Her mouth kept moving, but no sounds were getting past her lips. I got to my feet, pulling the witch up with me, confused when she started to shrivel up. I looked over to see that Liam had reversed the spell. The previously withered woman had returned to a full fledged beauty queen.
    She threw her arms around my little brother’s neck.
    “You saved me! You’re my hero!”
    He grinned and gave me a thumbs up. I shook my head, but I was grinning, too.

- - -

Since I've been thinking about Hollow Hill literally all day, I thought it would be prudent to do a quick short story to get introduced to Derek and Liam, and to further help my planning process. My last post has all the current information on Hollow Hill, my chosen NaNoWriMo project. More updates and another short to come later today!

Amy

500 Word Challenge: Freed By Fire

The Challenge: A character is hateful through most of the story. A character gets dirty. There must be a figurine at the beginning of the story.

- - -

    I was covered in dirt and blood, in pain, and could barely keep the sword in my hand. The fight wasn’t even half over yet.
    I cursed Vick again, the slick bastard watching me from the VIP box above the stadium. I knew that stealing the sacred Talisman from the Darklings had been a bad idea. I told Vick, but he didn’t listen to his slave. I fought monsters, he made money. But Vick never had enough. When he saw the demonic Talisman, a figurine of a shrouded man, he demanded I steal it for him. As his bondsman, I had to obey him. Didn’t matter that he played cruel games with me, whipped me when I challenged him, or laughed in my face when I asked for freedom. Vick was a black-hearted son of a bitch, and now I had to kill a dragon for him. If I lived, the figurine stayed with Vick. If I died, the Talisman went back to the Darklings.
    Only Vick thought I would win.
    The black scaled dragon growled, pulling its head back and shooting white-hot flames at me. I tucked and rolled before I could be roasted, painting myself a new coat of mud. I crouched and whirled, the dragon’s back to me. I rammed the sword into its ribs, driving it deep. The dragon roared, twisting to try and snare me in its jaws. I pulled the sword out and stepped back from it, using the sword to cleave one of the wings from the dragon’s back.
    Its agonized cry broke my heart.
    I hadn’t wanted to do this. I hadn’t wanted to steal the Talisman, or fight one of the last dragons. But I hadn’t been given a choice.
    “Finish it, Hayden!” Vick shouted at me.
    I was breathing heavily and my bloody body ached, but I still felt anger burning in my chest. I glared at Vick. He glared back.
    “Finish it now, or it’s a hundred lashes! It’s just a damn dragon!”
    That’s it. I sliced the sword along my palms and walked to face the beast. Darkling dragons can create mental links through blood contact. The dragon noticed what I was doing, and let me touch its face.
    The man in the black suit, I thought remorsefully. He’s the one who made me do this to you.
    What do you want? the dragon asked.
    Freedom, I answered. Kill him, and you’ll have the Talisman back.
    It felt my honest vow. Then it turned and sent a quick blast of fire up to where Vick was sitting. His was dead before he knew what hit him. I walked to Vick’s charred corpse and opened his jacket, taking the strangely cool Talisman out. I turned and bowed my head, placing the Talisman in front of the dragon. I looked up, finding it regarding me with respect. It inclined its head, took the statue, and lumbered away.
    I stood and breathed. I was dirty, hurt, and completely free.

- - -

"There's something behind me, isn't there?"

This idea actually stemmed from another concept I was thinking of today, that loosely described Gladiator/Monster idea I've mentioned in past posts. The character's name is Hayden, but the name is pretty well all they shared. Once I came up with that idea, the rest was easy. I'm trying to stay away from typical monsters, and I can't remember the last time I wrote about a dragon, so this was a fun little short to do. :)

Amy

500 Word Challenge: Bastards and Bears | The Eagle And The Moonlight

Since I ran out of time to post a 500 Word Challenge yesterday (it was one of those days where I looked and the clock and thought, "Holy crap! Is it actually 3:45 AM right now??), I got up early today and am going to post two challenges again before I start working on Cursed again. It's a bit slow going right now since Constance isn't trying to slay monsters at this point, but I'm working on my pacing and it'll be picking up again soon. As in today.

So, the first challenge is: The story takes place in the spring. During the story, there is a letter delivered. The story must involve a jar of honey in it.

- - -

    Redeem our village. Save your family honour. Bring us the skin of a bear, the letter said.
    I was one of the only people in the village who could read, since I was raised in a castle by my father. Not that I lived there with him now, since it wouldn’t do to have the bastard of a Baron and a peasant girl in court. When I moved to the village on my fifteenth birthday, everyone shunned me. They didn’t like that they could be seen as beneath me. But they also thought that my being a Baron’s bastard son would improve their standing in the kingdom.
    After I killed the bear, of course.
    The village elder had sent me the letter and a jar of honey, telling me what a great honour I was doing to my village and my father. Killing the bear would restore my family’s damaged honour and make me a respected man in the village. What went unsaid was that if I died, the village would no longer be shamed, and the Baron could make another bastard if he wanted.
    Everyone won in the situation, except for me.
    I wouldn’t have gone, except the letter also included a veiled threat to blackmail me. With no one to stand up for me, I had taken the jar of honey, a spear, a knife, and set off into the spring morning.
    A bear had been plaguing the border of the village for months, eating everything in sight. I was not relishing the adventure. I was scrawny, untrained in combat, clumsy, and a terrible hunter. I was definitely going to die.
    After walking all day, I decided I to sit down and rest. I dropped my pack and plopped onto the uncomfortable forest floor. The jar of honey tumbled away from me, but I didn’t care.
    Until I heard the twigs snap.
    I looked over and saw a gigantic, black bear that was probably seven feet tall and probably had the weight of ten men. It was twenty feet away from me, sniffing the ground. I had frozen. There was no scenario I could think of where the bear didn’t attack me and rip me to pieces.
    Behind the bear I spotted two more black shapes. Bear cubs. The mother was taking her children to look for food. She nudged the jar of honey so her children could have the treat. The bear cubs grunted and whined in joy as they began to lick the honey from the jar.
    I could have tried to kill the bear, and probably the cubs. I could have redeemed my village and saved my family’s honour. But the bears weren’t harming me. A mother simply wanted to care for her children.
    Which was why I didn’t kill them. Like the bears, nobody wanted me at home. But also like them, I could travel. Go anywhere, do anything.
    Being a bastard was a burden once. Now it was a chance to begin again.

- - -

The second challenge is: The story must have an eagle at the beginning. The story must involve a scepter in it.

- - -

    War makes only monsters and corpses.
    We had just lost a third of our men against Boudicca, a Queen bent on revenge, slaughtering every Roman she could find. My leg still bore an ache from the slash it had taken during the battle. Finally, the soldiers could walk no further and our commander was forced to stop in a clearing near a forest.
    My friend Julius dropped down onto the ground in front of me, rolling onto his back and shivering.
    “Trivia’s tits, it’s cold,” he said.
    I glanced around the clearing, which was illuminated under an enormous, full moon. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and I would have appreciated the beauty brought on by Luna, if I weren’t feeling so exhausted. I used the eagle scepter as leverage to lower myself down. Carrying the silver scepter had been an honour, but now it was a weight.
    “You shouldn’t dishonour the goddess of witchcraft,” I told Julius as I polished the eagle.
    When Julius didn’t reply, I looked over to see that he had fallen asleep, just like so many other men. I shook my head. No matter how hard I tried, sleep would not come to me. I regretted the things I had done to the Iceni tribe, but I had been caught up in the mayhem of the slaughter. An easy thing to do when you want your enemies to fear you. Except that now, Boudicca had struck fear into us.
    I don’t know exactly when they struck, if I had fallen asleep after all or if I had just been lost in my regrets.
    But I do know that they took us by surprise, that there were hundreds of them, and that they were not human.
    They were savage looking wolves the size of horses with sharp black claws and angry yellow eyes. One of them killed Julius as he slept, tearing out his throat with its teeth. I got to my feet, swiping at the beast with the eagle scepter. The silver scepter connected with the wolf’s muzzle. It roared in anger as a silver burn was planted on it. I raised the scepter to strike again, when a massive force slammed into my side and knocked me to the ground.
    Razor sharp teeth sank into my throat and began to tear at it. I screamed in pain, my voice joining the thousands of my brothers who were dying tonight.
    The large, auburn wolf pulled back and looked at me, then, began to change. Fur rippled and muscles shivered, receding back into a new form.    The form of a woman that I recognized.
    “Boudicca,” I gurgled as blood gushed through my open wound.
    Her eyes were piercing. She looked at the silver eagle I clutched to my chest, then met my eyes again.
    “Eagle lost, honour lost,” she said as her eyes shone gold, blood dripping from her chin, her skin rippling again as she began to change once more. “Honour lost, all lost.”

- - -

The first story, which I know didn't have any monsters or ghosts in it, came to me as I was brushing my teeth this morning. For some reason, I thought: Bears like honey, and fighting a bear for honey would be stupid if you knew you could walk away and leave it alone.

The second one was pretty easy to think up once I read 'eagle' and scepter. The Legend of the Ninth Legion has always been one of those mysteries writers like to have fun with, and who doesn't like the thought of werewolves wiping out the Ninth Legion? It took me a little longer to do because I was trying to get an accurate setting. I like warrior women like Boudicca, and the thought of her as a werewolf was hopefully a twist you all enjoyed.

Queen Boudicca

Badass werewolf

In other news, I recently started joining more writing groups and blogs:

Writer Unboxed
Nail Your Novel
Writing GIAM
Silver Pen

So far these blogs have been really helpful and I look forward to getting more information from them. Still learning how to do the whole blog thing, but I'm getting there I think!

Amy

500 Word Challenge: 'The Family Land' and 'Five Years Dead'

To make up for the lack of 500 Word postings, I'm posting two today. I should be back on track at least for the rest of the week, but then my vacation is coming up so I'll have to go on another break from it. Not to say I won't be writing while I'm on vacation (which I'll explain in another post), but it will be more background, plot and conception for National Writing Month, than anything else. I have no intention of starting early, but I don't want to fly in unprepared. That means planning and decision-making. But Challenges come first...

This first challenge was: Set during a business meeting. A spirit is in the middle. Must involve a pile of hay.

- - -

    Some people just can’t take a hint.
    I told them I wasn’t interested in selling my family’s farm. It had been here for generators, but the people from Big Value Mart kept sending real estate agents to swindle me out of the land so they could build a new store to rival the Supermart twenty blocks away.
    So here I was again, giving another agent a tour of the property before he offered me a price.
    “I’m not sure selling this property is a good idea, Mr. Hennessy,” I told the man following me into the shambling stable. “It has a curse on it.”
    As a rational man, Mr. Hennessy didn’t believe me. He just wandered around the stable, probably wondering how it was still standing.
    “Is that so, Mr. Arnaldo?” he said, more interested in keeping his five hundred dollar shoes clean.
    “Yup,” I replied. “Has been for the last two hundred years.”
    “Cursed how?”
    “After my great, great, great grandfather died, a banker bought it and kicked my family out. Least until Jeremiah scared him stiff and made him give it back. He’s determined to have it stay with my family.”
    Mr. Hennessy gave me a sour look. “You can’t honestly expect me to believe that.”
    I shrugged, kicking over the hay bale next to me into the closest pen. The one Jeremiah was said to have collapsed and died on.
    “I’m not expecting you to believe me,” I admitted. “But I figured you’d want to talk to the person who still has some sway over what happens to my family’s land.”
    I stepped back and waited. “You can come out now, Jeremiah,” I said.
    Didn’t have to wait long.
    The lanterns flickered out completely. Mr. Hennessy looked around quickly, probably wondering where the sudden, chilly wind had come from on the middle of a humid, July night. He turned around again and looked at the pile of hay across from me.
    A pale, steely blue fog had begun to filter up from it like smoke. The fog thickened and gathered as it rose, slowly forming the shape of a man in a white shirt, suspenders, and a straw hat. I smiled at him.
    “Good to see you, Jeremiah,” I said. “Mr. Hennessy here wants to ask you about selling the farm,” I told him as I nodded towards the gaping real estate agent behind him.
    Jeremiah’s glazed, literally dead eyes panned over to Mr. Hennessy, who started to tremble as the rapidly angering ghost looked at him.
    “I...” he tried. Points for effort. “I... My client... Your land...”
    Jeremiah shrieked like a banshee. It sounded like a fork and knife scratching along a plate, making me cover my ears. Mr. Hennessy jumped with surprise then turned and raced out of the stable. Smart man.
    Jeremiah turned to face me, smiling. I lowered my hands from my ears, grabbing the pitchfork to remake the hay pile and put him to rest again.
    “Same time next week?” I grinned.

- - -

The second challenge was: The story ends in a jungle. The story takes place five years in the past. During the story, an old friend shows up. The story must have a vampire at the end. A character elopes.

- - -

    “Where do you want to be in five years?”
    I almost laughed at her. I wondered if the bitch remembered asking me that already. Probably. Five years passes in the blink of an eye to a vampire. It might be why she brought me back to the rainforest, since we hadn’t been as close as newlyweds of five years should be.
    I thought about the trip I’d taken five years ago, when I’d been stupid and hopelessly in love...

    Maria Llorona was perfect. Tall, gold-skinned, supermodel body, seductive dark eyes. A woman of mystery and desire. The woman who would become my wife.
    We’d met only a few nights before, but she told me we were meant for each other, and that she wanted to spend eternity with me. In my excitement, I’d called my best friend Oscar to tell him the good news. Oscar was a little too into monsters, since he told me that Maria was a vampire.
    He went on a rant about how she was a vampiric spirit that kidnapped children who strayed from their parents, killed anyone who found her weeping, blah blah blah. He warned me to stay away from her, but I didn’t listen because I loved Maria.
    “Where do you want to be in five years?” she asked the night we wed.
    “With you,” I said, starstruck.
    We eloped just outside the Amazon. Maria wanted seclusion, and I wanted Maria to be happy. She always carried a sadness with her, but now that we were married, I was determined to change that.
    Funny thing, though. She ended up changing me.
    My first clue should’ve been that she wanted to consummate our marriage in the rainforest. Strange and very dangerous, but also exciting and romantic. The dictionary doesn’t have a word for how great the sex was.
    It also doesn’t have a word for the excruciating pain I was in when she tore out my throat with her teeth.
    Maria stayed with me as I died and was reborn underground the next night. I exploded at her with all the force of a nuclear blast. I left her, letting her weep alone in the dark.
    Oscar was at the hotel when I got back. He’d tracked me down and took me home, helping me survive as a fresh vampire. He kept me from going back to Maria, despite the magic pull I felt being bound to her.
    Five years passed before I gave in. I couldn’t help it, no matter how hard I tried. I belonged to her.

    “Where do you want to be in five years?” she asked.
    Maria looked just as beautiful as she had five years ago when she betrayed me. I remembered why I loved her. And why I hated her.
    “Free of you,” I said.
    Maria started to weep. “I just wanted you to love me.”
    Back then, I would have wanted to hold her. Not anymore.
    “You killed me,” I said. “That’s enough for a divorce.”

- - -

The first story was one I had a little trouble with. I wasn't exactly sure what I wanted to do at first, but I kept going back to the same idea and refining it until I knew I got it right. The same with the second story, which is a light play on one of my favorite ghost stories, the legend of La Llorona, the Weeping Woman.

So there we are! Tomorrow I'll post another Challenge. Also, you may have noticed that I've added links to authors I read on the right of the page if you're interested in checking them out (hint hint, do it).

Amy

500 Word Challenge: Nobody Likes The Hangman

Howdy partners! Today's 500 Word Challenge is set in the wild west. Why? Because I felt like it, that's why! Okay, so maybe this morning I was listening to The Hangman's Body Count by Volbeat, but don't judge me because it was inspiration! Besides, Volbeat rocks.

Anyways, this was the challenge: A character is lonely throughout most of the story.

Yes, that really was it. So here you go...

- - -

    There ain’t nobody who wants to be friends with the Hangman.
    Not surprisin’. I’m used to the nervous looks I get walkin’ the streets. They know it’s me. I’m the only seven foot tall giant in town with more muscles on me than railway workers.
    Folks don’t notice me when there’s a hangin’. They’re lookin’ at the man I’m gonna kill. They hoot and holler when the floor drops and he starts chokin’, his face turnin’ blue, tongue lollin’ out like a mutt’s and piss runnin’ down his leg. Never got why people got so excited. Death ain’t pretty.
    Soon as it’s over and I’m cartin’ the body out to be buried, they start backin’ away from me. This ain’t a nice town. Deputies are easy to buy, the Sheriff’ll frame anyone givin’ him the stink-eye, and the mayor’ll remove folk in the way of his profits.
    Least that’s what I hear. Ain’t nobody tellin’ secrets to the Hangman.
    I didn’t have anybody. Pa died in a barfight and Ma caught the pox. Couldn’t afford the doctor livin’ on our dry farm. But the Sheriff took one look at me and said, ‘You wanna help kill some bad guys, son?’
    I wasn’t smart. Thought he was gonna make me a deputy. Not a Hangman.
    After I got my dollar for hangin’ and copper for buryin’, I’d go to the bar and try to make a friend. Gold miner, cattle herder, shoe shiner, don’t matter. Any one woulda been better than no one. Soon as they saw me, they hurried away, scared that they’d get caught doin’ somethin’ wrong, and have to look at me as I pulled the lever and the rope tightened one last time.
    Never even bothered with lady folk. Even the ugly ones didn’t fancy sleepin’ with a big, dumb Hangman who only used his hands to put on the noose and pull the lever.
    I didn’t bother tryin’ anymore, even when new faces strolled in. Travellers and prospectors didn’t want to make friends with the Hangman.
    So I sat alone at my table in the bar. Nothin’ else to do.
    “This seat taken?” someone asked me.
    I looked up at the man, who was as big as me. His coat was dusted and dirty, like he’d been diggin’ graves himself. But there was no meanness in his eyes. Nothin’ that said he’d trick me.
    “Rest of the tables are full up,” he drawled. “I’m new to these parts and ain’t lookin’ for anythin’ but a quiet chat with a local.”
    I stared. “Sure you wanna sit with the Hangman?”
    His friendly smile dropped. “You this town’s Hangman?”
    I nodded. Then he did the damnedest thing.
    He smiled.
    He dropped into the chair across from me. “Finally,” he said. “Never thought I’d meet another man in my line o’ work.”
    I blinked. “You’re a Hangman?”
    “Used to be, ‘fore I decided to go trail blazin’.”
    I smiled.
    Only a Hangman can be friends with a Hangman.

- - -

Now that the challenge is all wrapped up, I'll be getting as much Cursed writing in today as I can. My day flew by waaaay faster than I thought I would and while it wasn't inefficient, there was so much more I wanted to do as far as writing goes. This hasn't been the first day I've had where I've wished I didn't need to sleep, but last night was hugely productive (thank you Kurtis!), and I'm very excited to continue working on Constance and Andromeda's story. It's changed a bit from the premise I posted a few days ago, but once it's revamped I'll put the new one up.

Amy

500 Word Challenge: Frog Hunting

The Challenge: The story ends on a river. The story takes place in the morning. During the story, there is a romantic interlude. The story must have a frog in it.

- - -

    I might be the craziest hedge witch in the world.
    But people do crazy things when they love someone. Especially when that person is dying.
    My plan was simple: Make a cure for the deadly fever that had left Melina bedridden for a week. Potion making was my trade, but there was something I needed:
    Frog legs.
    We lived in the middle of the forest by a river, and had one rule: Never cross the river onto the King’s land. Mostly because the King hated witches and would burn us on the spot. But the King, being slightly crazed himself, had opted to build his castle around a swamp. One that was riddled with frogs.
    Melina would have had a fit if she knew that I had broken our rule to get the last ingredient, but I would not let my wife die.
    A lazy mist coated the earth, giving the forest a beautiful, ghostly appearance, but there was no avoiding the thick swamp stench. I near the trees to avoid patrols. Even this early in the morning, The King sent riders out to make sure nobody trespassed on his land.
    A high-pitched ribbet made me stop and look around. The Golden Horned frog was perched on some moss near the base of a tree, staring at me with its reddish orange eyes. I swung my body and stepped closer, the thick mud trapping me in place. I reached for the fishing net I’d brought with me, then snapped my hand out and scooped up the frog. I pulled the net closer and tied it together so the frog couldn’t escape. I smiled, not believing my luck-   
    “Who goes there?”
    Damn it all.
    I looked over and saw three of the King’s guard on horseback staring at me. One look at my moss covered clothing and leaf-filled hair, and they knew what I was. They raised their swords at the same time I went for my belt. I was unlucky, but not unprepared.
    I threw the potion bag at the feet of their horses. It did two things: created a wall of smoke, and spooked the horses so they threw their riders. I turned and started running for the river. It was difficult to get my feet moving through the muck, but at least I had a head start.
    Finally the ground solidified enough that I could run faster. I heard shouts behind me, but I was almost at the river.
    An arrow punched into the tree on my left, but I leaped into the river and splashed through until I reached the other side, turning back to see the guards glaring at me. They knew the rules. They couldn’t cross onto witch-land unless they wanted to be turned into something unsavory. The frog croaked at my side. I laughed like the lunatic that I was.
    This would be a good story to tell Melina. She’d laugh before she chastised me. But at least she would live.

- - -

Because what hedge witch doesn't use frog legs in their potion? As a side note, I'm still working on Cursed, which has been going pretty well. I have a photoshoot tomorrow (I'm a hobbyist photographer and model), but after that I'm going to spend the rest of the day writing the next portion of Demon's Daughter. I've got the plotlines going smoothly, but my angelology (angelogy?) is a little rusty. So... anyone happen to know anything about the weapons of Heaven? If they simply existed, or if they were crafted? Did the same go for certain gates? I don't know if I'm doing my research wrong or looking with improper reading, but I don't want to risk making something up if I'm going to step on someone's toes. Any help is appreciated!

Amy

500 Word Challenge: Acceptance

This was today's 500 word challenge from Seventh Sanctum:

The story takes place in mid-winter. The story ends with a tomb. There is an argument in the story.

- - -

    “This is your fault,” I growled, wishing the hunger would go away.
    Jacob stared at me in the snow-covered forest. His golden eyes were unreadable. “I think not,” he said, using the same voice he used to seduced me into my current situation. “You asked for a new life. I have given it to you.”
    “You didn’t say I had to die!” I shrieked.
    Jacob didn’t even blink. “You are new. Perhaps you are justified in being angry. I should have told you what I was. But I never forced you, Mara. You said you wanted to be with me. That you wanted something more from you life-”
    “I also wanted to keep being alive!” I screamed, hunger cramping me again. I focused on how angry that was making me, and not about how much I loved him.
    Jacob took a careful step closer to me. “I am sorry to have led you astray. But it will get easier. There is so much about your world you could not see with mortal eyes. So much power you could not comprehend as a human. Yes, there are restrictions, but you can be anything you want now, Mara. You can do almost anything.”
    Except sleep. Get a tan. Eat solid food. Hunger twisted inside my stomach. I frowned, gripping my middle tighter. “You say that like you know from experience.”
    Jacob smiled at me, using the smile I’d fallen in love with. Damn him. “Because I do. I was like you once. Feeling anger at my maker. Realizing all I would be without. But I learned to appreciate my new life, unusual as it is. You will too, Mara. Trust me.”
    I wanted to tell him no. That I wanted out of this, to go back to boring, human me. But I couldn’t. It would have tasted a lie. Damn it, Mara. Stop thinking about eating!
    “You are hungry,” he said. “Let’s see to that.”
    Jacob turned and started walking through the forest. Reluctantly, I followed him. Along the way, I got the full appreciation of my new senses. It was pitch black out, but I could see clearly. I could hear every creature. Smell snow-covered pine even though there weren’t any pine trees around us. I could feel the wind, but not the cold. I’d never liked winter before, but now I found myself loving it.
    Jacob stopped in front of a cave. “I will be outside. You may call on me if you need to, but I am certain you will be capable on your own.”
    I raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
    He grinned. “You’re resourceful, Mara. Something I love about you.”
    Damn. He did it again. I tried not to smile. “Okay. Here goes nothing.”
    I walked into the cave, catching their scent immediately. I heard murmured conversation, seeing the three of them huddled by the campfire. New fangs poked my lower lip. This was my new life. I’d asked for it. Time to accept that.
    And eat.

- - - 

Amy

500 Word Challenge: One Last Sin

In an effort to keep my skills honed and sharped, I've decided to go on 500 word challenges, which is exactly what it sounds like: Tell a story in 500 words. I like this challenge because it will essentially take me out of my comfort zone (my stories will still involve monsters and the supernatural because hey, I gotta be me) and help me improve as a writer.

So to that end, I went hunting on one of my favorite sites, Seventh Sanctum, and found their writing challenge generator. Best tool ever, and I know I'll have a lot of fun with it.

Today's challenge generator pulled up this:

The story starts during a riot. The story must have an incubus at the end. The story must involve an idol in it.

(If you aren't familiar with an incubus, this is what it is.)




- - -

    Vegas was overrun with monsters. Everything was on fire. Anyone still alive was screaming and trying to escape. But not me. Not yet. There was something I had to do first.
    I’d never been lucky in love or relationships. I was the forgettable, almost ugly duckling, the one all the boys picked last for the Sadie Hawkins Dance because not being seen with a girl would be uncool. I got sloppy drunken kisses until the house lights came up and the man I was with realized he didn’t want to take me home.
    I was doomed to be a virgin. Until the world started to end. Talk about irony.
    I clutched the idol to my chest and kept running, hoping I wouldn’t get eaten before I found him. I’d visited a psychic and asked for her to help me find a man who’d love me, just for one night. She gave me an idol of a curvy woman writhing in pleasure, saying it would lead me to him.
    Then the earth cracked and the monsters showed up. Just my luck.
    The idol started warming in my hands as I turned into the MGM. I raced through the blood-stained floor of the casino to the elevators. The idol suddenly turned so blisteringly hot that I dropped it. Crap crap crap-
    Masculine hands picked it up. I looked up and saw a devastatingly gorgeous man. He was Johnny Depp with Hugh Jackman’s body and Jake Gyllenhaal’s eyes. Holy crap.
    He must have found my stupefied expression amusing, because he grinned. I nearly swooned.
    “I haven’t seen one of these in centuries,” he said in a voice that was honey to the ears. Stunningly blue eyes met my dull brown ones. “Do you know what it does?”
    I tried not to think about the way he was sensuously rubbing his thumb over the idol’s legs, hips, and breasts, or how I wished those fingers were on my-
    “Is that what you want?” he asked.
    I blinked. “Did you just read my mind?”
    He chuckled. “Only because you were thinking about being seduced. Which is my expertise.”
    I frowned. “Are you a gigolo or something?”
    He laughed this time. “No, my dear. I’m an incubus. A demon of pleasure.” He waved the idol. “And you have summoned me.”
    He pressed against me, too warm and too real for me to be dreaming. He bent his head, close enough to kiss. His spicy musk was drowning me, making me light-headed. His fingers gently traced the side of my face. I was shaking.
    “Don’t be afraid,” he whispered. “I’m here to make your fantasies become realities. Tell me what you want.”
    Somehow, I found my voice. “To be loved.”
    He looked at me, as if he didn’t think I was serious. Then he grinned.
    “Humans. You’re all so wonderfully simple-minded.”
    I was too intoxicated to care about his comment, because he took my hand and led me to the elevator.
    I loved him.


- - -

Short. Simple. A little sexy. I'm actually pretty proud of this short. It's something I could take further if I really wanted to, (no, I won't), and it was a lot of fun to write in the morning just before I ate lunch. Since I can get ideas in the blink of an eye and am a fast typer, I'll post challenge tomorrow when I get home from work. Ciao!

Amy