The Aisha Blackwell Chronicles-Book 2

Writing like crazy. With finally school being over, I've been struck by inspiration. And here is another excerpt of what's to come in The Aisha Blackwell Chronicles (Keep in mind that this might change as I go over things)

13 days from today…

Even though I knew how things would end…I could not presume to have ever foreseen the role we each was put to play. Despite it all, play it we did. We had to bequeath much of who we were in the process …we all lost something dear that can never be restored to its original state, for once it’s gone, it is lost forever. 

            These words became flesh as I looked upon all that I had lost. There it was. Or should I say, there she was? The pure, undulated ache of not being able to touch her nearly brought me down to my knees. Her presence alone was a force of nature; her soul shone bright enough to blind and burn. And still, m hands itched with wanting to reach out and take what was mine. But this was not the right time, I repeated to myself. She needed to have her moment, I knew that…and I was not selfish enough to take that away from her…but neither was I a martyr, so this would not be the end of us.       

But this is not how this story begins…for that, we have to go back…13 days so, to be exact. 

Working on Aisha Blackwell's Chronicles

This excerpt is subject to change as the writing process goes along, so try to keep it in mind.

“Have you ever noticed how hard it is to find a shadow in the night? I guess that’s why so many people are so obsessed with the idea of bringing things to the light…to the clear, so to speak.” 

“Come closer…if you dare.”

I forced down the laugh bubbling through me. Strange sensation that. So much have change in so little time that every now and then I had a hard time believing it myself. Screwing up my face, “Nah. I’ve already seen what you’ve got going on there and it is not that impressive; so when I refuse to come any closer is not out of cowardice but… out of lack of interest, really.” I finished with a shrug before turning around. Once I was sure to have his attention, because really, the heat of his look gave him away- I started to walk away from him. As if I didn’t find him threat enough to worry about giving him my back right after insulting him.  

He lunched for me and snaked his arms around my middle in a possessive vise grip that pushed the air out of my hungry lungs. Just like that. Would have been too much to ask for a war cry before the attack? I wished he had done so even more when a rather unbecoming yelp escaped my lips. We both stopped to acknowledge each other; in the way he had me, I had to look at him over my shoulder. Not that I was complaining much. I’ve been in worse situations. The things one endure…really. I was such a hopeless forgiving soul.

“What was that little sound?” He asked between laughs. “I bet I can make you do it again.” He waggle his eyebrows. 

I threw him a coy smile; just for that, he should have known I was up to no good. I guess this was one silver lining of being human like…keeping my emotions and thoughts to myself whenever I desired to do so. Like in this instance, for example. I didn’t want to admit he was using far too much force on my ribs; had the Atari been in working order, I wouldn’t have had a choice on the matter. I just didn’t want him to hold back with me…I wanted all of him for as long as I was able…before—

I forced my mind back to the present. For a second all my attention was captured and then enthralled by the alien feeling of my hands rubbing against Ashlan’s stubbles. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that. Not that I ever would…I knew this thing that was happening to me was not a permanent kind of thing. Patting his cheek, a bit to hard if we are going for the truth, “Oh, Ash. That little sound?” He nodded eagerly, mischief shinning in his eyes, “was just a diversion, so when I did this you didn’t see it coming.” I accommodated my body just right and put all my upper body strength into throwing him over my head.  He didn’t have a real chance to stop me since I was moving before the words were out of my mouth.  

He hit the ground with a grunt, “Why, you sneaky, devious, underhanded…” 

I waved him off, “Oh, shhhush it. Do you want to make me blush with your flattery?” Then with a mocking pout, “And not that I am about to instruct you on how to properly complement me, far be it from me, what you being the man and all that…but you should have stopped at the first one…they all mean the same, you know.”

He narrowed his eyes. 

Countdown of hotties with a body part II

Well, hello there. I know I have been lost but I do have to show up to work and get this--actually get some WORK done. Sometimes life is so effing unfair-sighs- and interferes with my dreams. So...where were we? Oh yes, I was discussing Kit Harington sexiness. I want to let something clear, he may be number ten on the list but it is not based on him being less sexy than the res...no, I put him there because he is well known by his role (Jon Snow) in Game of thrones. That being said, let's get down to business. Drums please....
Bill Skarsgard

“Pain was as much a part of this life as the summer and the winter and the rain, and there was no greater asshole than the one who believed you can cure it.” Quote from Hemlock Grove 

  So Netflix released an American Horror Thriller titled Hemlock Grove and one of the leading actors is none other than Bill Skarsgard (Roman Godfrey)...brother of Alex Skarsgard- imagine the christmas cards, ladies and boys who likes boys! The swedish twenty-two year old has plenty of acting experience to back him up....and a free spot for a girlfriend. Oh and did I mention he modeled for H&M   or that he has this great lips? 'Cause he does...Trust me...I am a fan.

             

Sure he is a "pretty boy", in south Korea he would be called a flower boy, but I figured he deserved a spot on the list. 

Once upon a time...

There was a time when words were magical; they might have as well been carried on the skin, like a brand, like a living tattoo, for their weight could drag you to the bottom of an ocean just like a rock around the neck.

This photo belongs to phatpuppyart. 

The ugly truth:

Some people shade their eyes and wax their ears against pejoratives used against them. To those I say, don't shy away from them. Acknowledge the truth behind it, I dare you to do so. For then those words can't be used to hurt you. They won't any longer know where to aim to hurt. Only you can't grant them the power they so relentlessly seek. You may not control their words or the actions that are thrown at you, but you most certainly can control how they make you feel and what you do with them...for you grant them meaning.

This photo belongs to Phatpuppyart. 

Something to think about:

If or when at a crucial crossroads, the decision that must be made does not strike you as difficult...if you don't even hesitate at the idea of what you are leaving behind, what you're ultimately giving up, the risk to come and what might actually happen if you go through with it, then, my dear friend, it can only mean that you are far from ready...either that or you have been living a life from the sidelines, a life that would not hurt if you were to lose it, and that is no life at all.

Open letter to a broken heart:

Open your ears and listen to what I've come here to tell. Wake up...that time has come. I beg you to reconsider. I want you to stop and wonder how it's going to be once you cross that threshold, for once in the other side, my love, I won't be anymore. I want you to wonder how it's going to be without me.

Colors of the wind; intellectual property of Phatpyppyart. 

Surfing through my earlier works...

As I cleaned the memory of my laptop of garbage works, I found this particular one, which made me laugh and decided to share it. It was supposed to be the story of Azure- maybe one day I'll go back to her...but for now, enjoy!
(Warning: this publication may content strong language for minors under the age of eighteen, so parental supervision is advised.) 
From Azure at midnight

“Step away from the bacon… slowly. And maybe…just maybe… you might make it out of this alive. And in one piece.”

A whimper left his lips, “But-But…it’s my bacon.”

Hadn’t he uttered a single complain about resigning his bacon to me, I might have been pushed into believing he had tampered with the food, in the hopes of poisoning me and saving all his future bacon. Still…he was delaying the inevitable here. I wanted that bacon. No. Scratch that…I needed it. A raised brow, “Umm. Is it? Is it, really? ‘Cause I’m certain that it is mine.”

Trembling lower lip. “But…but…I paid for it.”

The impudence of this man had no boundaries, “Let my appreciation for the gesture be duly noted. Now back the fuck off.” I growled back at him. I managed to learn how to growl very early in live. There are kids who’d secretly feed their dogs under the table. I was most definitely not one of those idiots when a child, hell no, I growled back at my dog-Tarzan-to beat it from under the table or else…

Xander’s vibrant baby blue eyes widened. Blink, blink, just like an owl. “Ok…Suzie, you are scaring me.”

Narrowed eyes, triangle hands position- just like Mr. Burns. “It seems to me that I am not doing such a great job, since your fork is still close to my bacon. So let me make this perfectly clear for you. If you so much as make a false move for my bacon, I will stab you with your own fork.” At his frown I decided to expound on my reasoning, not that I should for it ought to be obvious, really. I blame his mother for dropping him when a baby, not that I have proofs besides moments like this…but I was as certain as one can be without having any proofs. “I’d use mine but we don’t want to go spreading germs around, you know. It’s more hygienic to just use yours.”

A cringe, “Uhhhh. Thank you?”

I tsked, “You illiterate, ingrate. Just because of that I will use my own fork and give your immune system a run for its money. Let’s see how you’ll like that.” I threatened with fork in the air.

A deep intake of air. “This is not worth a trip to the hospital. Here. Take it. Take it all, you bottomless pit.” He finally handed the plate over to its rightful owner.

I scoffed in disgust, “And that’s exactly why you don’t deserve it, Xander. Bacon is worth anything. I keep telling you. You are not paying its due respect. One day…one day, bacon will replace money as our currency. Just wait and see.”

“You are such a freak.” He hissed, making an effort to shadow his face with his hand. Obviously trying his best not to being seen with the likes of me. Just because of that, I’ll be louder and crasser.

I smiled trough a mouthful of bacon. “I take that as a compliment. So thank you.” I made sure he could see the food in my mouth.  

“Such a lady.” He snapped angrily, shoving a napkin my way.

I refused it and wiped off my mouth with the back of my hand, “Haven’t you read the latest Cosmo? Femininity is out. Pmsing, bacon eater females are in. Try to keep up, will ya.”

“Yes… I can barely help these alien feelings, well, attraction if I am to be honest, that I am experiencing toward you, and I’m gay!— imagine that. It’s like…I want to rip off your clothes, throw you on this same table on which we eat and dry hump your leg and work my way up like a nervous Chihuahua. Seriously. Can’t you tell that I am fighting it with all that I am? For this would change our friendship forever.” He said all of this with a straight face.

I gave him a helpless shrug, “I know. I am sexy like that. But I’ll tell you what. Buy me another order of bacon, and we will go later tonight for some drinks-on me, of course- and then we could French kiss the hell out of each other and blame it on heterosexual curiosity-on your part, duh— and high levels of alcohol—that would be on le me… I will even go as far as granting you limited access to my boobs. You know you like them. Not that I blame you. They are truly beautiful.”

He nodded supportively, “You are right. Your tits are ah-mazing. But if you want me to buy you another serving, then I demand touch plus play.”

I pretended to think it through, “You draw a hard bargain, Xander, but I accept. But before I put out, though, show me the bacon.”

Not being able to hold it in any longer, we finally burst out laughing when the scratch of a throat that, if judging by the rawness of the sound, must have dried up during the time when Tutankhamen was alive. I craned my neck so to be able to see around Xander’s black haired head, and sure enough, in the table across from ours there was a judgmental glare that matched the sound the woman emitted.

            I assessed the intruding woman with a passing glance, after all there wasn’t that much to look at. If I were her, I would try and not get murder without an ID on me, for she would be one of those cases labeled as a Jane Doe-a.k.a. the bitchy owner of non-descriptive features; not that I would ever say this at loud, mind you, these people might misinterpret my well intended advice as a death threat. Which it wasn’t.  I was just playing with the possibilities.

Tossing her bland brown hair over her shoulder, “You do realize that we can hear everything you two are saying from over here, right?” The fastidious woman spat out. With all that concentrated hate, I short of expected to find a certain killing shine in the depths of her eyes, but no, there was none. Just insipid, dull, brown eyes.

            Xander made the let me take this one gesture, so I backed off, this wasn’t our first rodeo. “Well, now that you mention it, that is mighty rude of you, considering you were not invited to partake of this conversation.”

            She gasped dramatically, her hand going for her chest, “How dare you!” 

Chasing after windmills

Chasing after windmills...if Don Quixote fought them, why can't I chase after their magical properties? Given, our motivations are worlds apart, he sought God's blessing whilst I go after my lost muse. Yes...I seem to have lost my muse along the way. I blame the fairies- I write this while grinning--those little bitches trend to play hide and seek with my things. But now they have crossed a line! Enough is enough! You don't mess with the head of a potential murderer--that's right, after all I've killed people... in my stories-do you hear me, bitches-well, my characters I've killed people, ergo I know people who wouldn't even spare a blink at the idea of offing you --sure, they aren't real... but that won't stop them!
Going back to the main thing at hand...
I've lost my muse (I've not forgotten about you, little, shinny b...) and got tired of waiting for her to come back...so I am hunting her down. In the meantime, I've been feeding all the different quirks, and at times contradictory idiosyncrasies, that conform my personality. And while the muse comes out of her strike (or the fairies decide they have had enough fun and release her) I've been playing with words for the title of book two in the Aisha Blackwell's Chronicles. The titles are in no particular order:
First one: Sealed by blood
Second one: Dark heaven
Third one:  Mistress of the Dark
Fourth one:  Requiem for a shadow
I'll leave you now with images than have been inspiring my process of search. They belong to the page phatpuppyart. 

Ripples in the reflection...

This photo belongs to Phatpuppyart

"With an all-consuming dread I dare take a look at the reflection I have eluded for so long. The eyes staring back at me chant stories that are best forgotten but never will be. Trembling fingers reach for the image, wanting to harness it…embrace it even, but it blurs at contact, leaving ripples in the water at its wake. Now this I recognize, a blurred version of myself. But to her I here and now make a promise…I'll find myself…I'll grow into myself…and that day the world better be prepared because with the same intrinsic radiance a star shines in her dying days I’ll illuminate a world filled with unseeing beings…and even them will see."

A quote I love from book one- Aisha Blackwell's Chronicles

Aisha Blackwell's Chronicles- 

I knew Aisha’s heart. I knew her better than herself …and she was beautiful and strong and felt deep. It has always surprised me to see the way she saw herself; how little she thought about her person. It struck me as surprising because every single time I’ve seen her, I’ve thought her larger than life. And that’s why the world feared her. Because they couldn’t compare to her; she raised a new bar for others to be measured by. Because looking at the sun hurts…and she was that to me. My own piece of sky. 

 

Another passage of what's to come

Beware- this might change as I go over things- but hey, something is better than nothing, right?
Small Teaser of the 2 book in the Aisha Blackwell's Chronicles:

Talk about the devil and all that.

He never made an attempt to hide his purpose from me. He actually wanted me to know. He had come for me. Well…he sure had one thing coming his way.

I had to force myself to stay put. I knew running would resolve nothing, if anything, it would only postpone it. And yet…that was all I wanted to do, run until my body could do it no more. Until oblivion caught up with me. Until its endless weight anchored me again.

“You could have told me.” I ignored his slight flinch. Shaking my head, “No. You should have told me. Before…before things…” Progressed as far as they did. I didn’t say the words. I couldn’t bring myself to finish that sentence, let alone look at him, so I let it hang there incomplete. 

I did not need to look at him to know he was watching me, as if trying to burn the truth out of me. “You think I didn’t try? Really?”

I had avoided looking in his direction so far, but at this point I couldn’t stop my eyes seeking his. I had to know. I needed to know if he was talking the truth. I knew he did not…but by the look of things, he sure thought he did. “You didn’t try hard enough, damn it!” 

"I refuse to keep looking for reasons in the past to  

                                keep you in my present." 

“There comes a moment in life when one must acknowledge that you just can't keep looking back into your past for reasons to keep someone in your present and future. Regardless of how much looking that cruel reality in the eye hurts...memories can't be enough.”

                    La imagen fue tomada de:  (http://www.artofdharma.org/wp-content/uploads/2011/08/big-lettig.jpg)

The new prologue for the sequel in the Aisha Blackwell's Chronicles

Prologue: 

Selene looked up; I caught a startled cringe cross her youthful features before she could hide it from sight. Self-consciously, I tugged on the cowl of the cloak until it covered my face from view. My mind was coldly grazed by a most displeased presence; I could tell it hadn’t liked my open display of weakness. It didn’t understand my reasoning; not knowing how to express his disapproval through mortal ways, I heard sorrowful mourns that should have scared me but that now didn’t for I had become accustomed to. As a matter of point, I derived strength from its mere existence. It was promise of sorts.

Unbidden anger rolled over me; replacing my cockamamie, earthy self doubts. I gave free rein to my tempestuous emotions; I wanted her to feel them...to fear me. For her fear fed my power. The world became red as though I was taking it in through tainted lens…but I knew. The world wasn’t red…it were just my profane eyes, the world through those eyes. The girl’s frightened gaze widened when my dark force reached her kneeling form. My sharp gaze zeroed in on her nervous fidgeting, I felt a perverse flick of satisfaction run wild in my veins at the sight. I had to caught myself before a moan left my lips; closing my lids so to hide my eyes rolling into the back of my head in boundless bliss.

Then I remembered why she was here and the flicks of satisfaction were obliterated by cold, murdering fury, leaving a sour taste at its wake. Ugh. I should have her publically flogged for her incompetence as an example to others; she had failed me. And failure wasn’t acceptable. But punishing her in that fashion would beat the purpose of secrecy. That was the only reason her back was not a bleeding, shredded mess. “Tell me…one more time…what happened.” She bitted her lips, evidently pondering the wisdom of answering my question; her slight hesitation, as small as it was, was taken as a direct insult to my person.

            My powers throbbed inside me; in the blink of an eye, a visible force shook my body and poured off of me in strong, pulsating waves. “Now. I want to hear you now, Selene.”

             Her soulful brown eyes blinked repeatedly before fastening on the marble floor. Avoiding my rusty eyes at all cost. “We underestimated her. We…we…we outnumbered her by many, as planned…but o-overpowering her was not a matter of numbers.” She was stating the obvious. My jaw tightened in irritation.

            “Selene?” The sound that left my lips close to a hiss. I wet my cracked, dry lips. My throat felt raw, I tasted the entity’s starvation as though it was my own, turning my voice undeniably rasp. 

            “Mistress?” She said warily, not meeting my gaze.

            “Skip to the part I want to hear.” I commanded.

            She swallowed audibly, “Jade…did not say your name, Mistress. However…she did say…that you were a member among our Council. I heard her clearly as day. Aisha knows. Assuming she remembers, of course.”

   And just like the coward she was, she had listened hidden in the shadows, faraway from peril.  She could have killed Aisha Blackwell when that offending female was down. But she did nothing of the sort. Foregoing, once again, a direct order. I had no use in my ranks for someone who dared defy my ruling. This girl kneeling in front of me was now a walking…talking liability. I had no tolerance for loose ends. Nor patience. Right on the heel of that realization, I felt the frosty breath of something outwardly whispering in the back of my head intelligible sweet nothings…seducing me into rescinding control to him. Reminding me of its presence. “Really, Selene…was it really that hard? And as for Jade…well, she has to die. Dead people can’t talk, now can they?”

            Just then she looked up and understanding of her situation dawned on her. I could tell she knew she would be sharing Jade’s fate. But it was too late.

            The shinny black floor on which she kneeled started to tremble and crumble apart, a never-ending pit appeared from under her. Only a small piece of swaying marble now held her. She tried to move away, escape her fate, but her feet were securely frozen to the ground by glistening blue hands that arose from under her and held her still. Her terror filled screams were an unwelcome annoyance to my sensible ears. Silence her, I commanded the bounded entity residing within me. With lethal glee it let out an earsplitting yowl while separating from my tangible form; crystal vases exploded, giving under the pressure. From my chest a light bright enough to blind human eyes appeared and diffused, illuminating the dark cave to daylight proportions.   

With cracking contortions of muscles, the diabolical, primordial apparition made its way to Selene. The eerie sounds reverberated on the walls, multiplying. The incorporeal entity condensed into an inglorious sight; it was grotesque, to be sure, but beautiful at the same time in its raw, magnetic power. White-eyes shone brightly from an inhuman contour, too many misshapenness together on that face to call it human-like. Its almost seven feet of height were too much to take in at once. The double row of incisors of the creature grew to feral lengths; the condensing change never altering the slow pace of the creature. I was well aware the Triata could have quickened his walk…but the creature was enjoying the torturous tempo; how its victim suffered each second he delayed that final blow. I felt the echo of its twisted pleasure flickering inside me, after all, we were connected…the derived gratification seemed to start at the pit of my belly and then extend toward my limbs like firecrackers.

            The male Triata extended its hand and grazed Selene’s face with his pointy talons, marking his pray as caught; leaving three deep bloody indentations on the girl’s now marred skin. Just playing with her. In the next instant, the girl’s jaw started to open and continued to do so until it reached unnatural spans; I knew it not to be of her own accord. The dislocating pop of a jaw had me flinching lightly, involuntarily; the Triata started to enter her body in order to posses it. His naked, shinny black foot was the first thing to be shoved into her body. I watched all with cold detachment from my throne. She was no one to me…just a mean to an end.

            With the deed done, Selene’s body stopped trembling; it still showed signs of intense fatigue, her form was covered in perspiration and her breathing was ragged, labored. A full hour passed before her eyes popped open. Her once brown eyes were now an egg –white from corner to corner, the need to feed was most evident in its milky gaze; the eyes of a Triata looked back at me from a girl’s face. “Come here, my pet, it’s time for your feeding.” I showed the newly Triata possessed girl my vein. Like a poisonous snake, Selene’s body hissed and lunched for the exposed pad of white flesh I offered at my wrist. Her incisors lengthened and sunk true into my skin. My head lulled back in unchecked enjoyment; the Triata varied between pulling and swallowing down big gulps of the liquid of life I freely gave. Her eyes snapped open and held mine; the brown iris slowly returning to the girl’s eyes; at once concealing her true nature. I snaked my right hand into her long, luscious hair, pressing her fangs deeper. 

            All would be well, I mused to myself. Aisha Blackwell was a walking corpse. It was a matter of letting her body know it was past time to drop dead. I smiled brightly. Tomorrow could not come fast enough.