Have a Good Day ~wink wink~ and Gypsy Wolf

Edmund's Eyes ~whew~

Happy Friday the thirteenth!  Muahahahaha

As I'm not an overly superstitious person, Fri the 13th usually passes me by with a oooh, have a good day, ~wink wink~ reaction. 

I mean, I love black cats with their sleek fur and bright eyes, ladders-well I wouldn't walk underneath one on any other day either...that's just an accident waiting to happen and salt over the shoulder-that's just messy.

Now though, as we scramble to get everything packed for the vacation we leave for tomorrow and the day and evening calls for heavy storms, I have to wonder...  Bad timing or Oooh ah ah ah jinx!

How about you out there, any superstitions you care to share with the group?  Stories of mayhem are encouraged!  And to draw out our followers I make an offer.  For the first non-group member (sorry Savanna, Pat, Rebecca, Francesca and Solara) to leave a comment about today's blog will get their name in an upcoming flash of Gypsy Wolf!

Have a good day ~wink wink~ 

~~~~
Gypsy Wolf

“Can I tell you your future, sir?” Branwen barely suppressed the illicit suggestion forming on her lips of what she hoped that future would entail.

Naughty, yet beautiful pictures of what they could, and would do together, flashed up at her from the crystal soothsayer’s orb she palmed between both hands. Death, though he may be, she’d bet the release, he could offer her body, would put to shame all of the other bărbaţi, men, she’d ever made love with.

“Watch out, Eddy.”

A stunning young woman moved into the tent, running a hand down his arm and bouncing a hip against his. Accompanying her was a group of gigglers all about the same age. They were flashy in that daddy’s money to the rescue kind of way.

“Gillia,” the warning in Deaths voice shot through Branwen like lightening, warming all of her nooks and crannies.

“Don’t be a bore, Eddy-kins.” Sidling into the chair at the table this, Gillia, leaned forward and tapped her long nail against the, now quiet, orb. “I want my reading.”

The Pronoun Puzzle...

Pronoun, pronoun, who's got the pronoun...

It's amazing to me how littered with pronouns my rough drafts get with hims, hers, and he's, she's.  When I try to cut back on the pronouns up front I end up with a draft overflowing with names...lol

It's a good thing we edit, and have kick ass CP's and editors!  Anyone else have the pronoun problem?  If so, have you found a good way of catching it up front rather than waiting for the edit phase of a story?  I'd love to know...  :)

~~~
Gypsy Wolf

Edmund couldn’t decide if it was the gypsy’s beauty or her scent that intrigued him more. Her hair was a lovely black, reminiscent of a raven’s wing and her eyes were a perfect green—akin to the meat of the sweet kiwi he longed to feed past her full lower lip. Her skin was smooth and pale and her nose was just a bit of a thing, nothing like the aged crow he’d been expecting.


“Tigan, gypsy? Are you the gypsy wolf ?” Her scent was that of a pup, lacking its first change, only less. It was as if her body had yet to decide if it would ever change. She was a paradox in their world and could not be trusted.

“Yes, I am the seer.”

Her husky whisper slid  down his spine and grabbed him by the balls. His wolf paced, pushing at his skin, reaching out to rub itself against the warmth standing before him. Edmund growled, filling the small tent and sending this diminutive gypsy wolf stumbling backwards.

This woman could be his mate, if only he didn’t have to kill her.
~~~~~~~

Have a great weekend!

Too Much Of A Good Thing...

Here we are at Friday again.  Yay! 

Any big plans out there for the weekend?

So as I was writing Branwen's thoughts, it dawned on how much I enjoy writing descriptive scenes.  Using a variety of words to make clear the pictures in my mind and letting those words roll over my tongue.

Unfortunately, my enjoyment sometimes overrides the need to use dialogue as well and I have to remind myself regularly to give my characters a voice.

Anyone else run into this problem or maybe the other way around?  Too much dialogue, not enough description.

~~~
Gypsy Wolf cont...

Wisps of wind swept past the rising flap of Branwen’s tent and swirled around the tight enclosure. Its chill bit at her ankles and drew a flicker from her candle flames. A woodsy, male scent mingled with lavender taunting her newly altered sense of smell. Death was about to greet her, though she was unsure if her visitor was the bringer or the receiver.


Whoever he was, he sure smelled good.

“Come in, come in… Let the tigan lupul see you, let her tell you about your future.”

Dark brown hair, shot with sun bleached blond highlights, was the first thing Branwen saw of her guest. His was not the usual over coifed mess of locks her clients normally came in with, nope; his flew free, full like a lion’s mane with the stunningly white tips that lay darn near the bottom of his chin.

In order to step fully into the tent he had to fold his body inward, giving any potential enemies the opening they might need to momentarily overpower him. His clenched fist and softly spoken vulgarity betrayed his frustration.

As he rose, his full height and the breadth of his shoulders pulled the air from her lungs. The bringer of death had boldly strode into her home causing her knees to weaken and her core to clench. He was a killer, for sure, only she wasn’t sure if it was her mortality, or her sexuality, that was in jeopardy.

Gypsy Wolf...continued

Happy Friday fellow readers, writers and arithmetic users....  ;)

Not much new going on here today so I thought I would post another flash of Gypsy Wolf.  This story is proving to be kinda fun to jot down.  I have no idea what's going to happen until I sit down to write.  It really is quite freeing. 

Enjoy the next segment, oh and btw, don't you just love the picture above?  How I would love to turn it into a book cover!  :)

~~~~~

“Your safety is of my utmost concern, Princess Gillia.” Edmund’s teeth clenched so tightly he was amazed any words were passing through them. “It would be irresponsible of me not to warn you of the danger in your actions.”

“What danger, we’re here to talk to a little old lady to see what our future holds. Oooh”

The gaggle of giggles surrounding him ripped down his spine like the claws of a young pup, pointed and wickedly sharp.

“You know Eddy, consider these two words for a moment, hydro-colonic, or go get yourself laid and relax a bit. I know for sure that Hildy would forgo a visit with the gypsy in exchange for a ride on your nasty.”

Edmund looked towards the afore-mentioned girl and grimaced. She was a lovely bit of fluff, but he’d sworn off her type years ago. Now his bed partners had to enjoy the rough and tumble as well as, be able to keep up their end of a conversation.

“Now move out of my way,” Gillia bitched. “I want my reading.”

He was, well and truly stuck. They were going in whether he liked it or not.

“I will go in first to make sure it is safe and you will wait until I give you the okay to enter this tent.” He leaned down into her face and growled. “Do not disregard me in this matter or I will throw you over my shoulder and carry you out to the car, paddling the spoiled ass as your father should have years ago…”

Her eyes grew to resemble the full moon as she nodded her head. Finally, she believed him. Edmund pushed back on the canvas flap and moved into the gypsy’s tent…

Is It He/She Who Screams the Loudest, Who Wins the Race?

Good Friday morning, friends,

I'm a happy camper this week as I've finally finished the rough draft of my second story, The Submission! 

Yay!!

It still requires much editing, but for me, that's always been the easier of the two tasks.  Rough drafts seem to kick me in the butt.  I always seem to have middle of the story change ups and my muse is a secret, or not so secret, perfectionist which works great for editing, but not so for rough drafts.  ;)

So what now?

Well, editing for sure, but I've set that aside momentarily to give both myself and my characters a chance to breathe.  What's the saying?  Time away makes the heart grow fonder, right.  hehe

I also have several of ideas I'm toying around with.  Dragons, witches, shapeshifters and plain old folks in a contemporary that could use some editing.  Right now I'm thinking it is research mode time and then we'll see how it goes.  :)

How do all of you writers out there decide what to work on next?  Flip of a coin?  Which character screams the loudest?

I've added another bit from my Gypsy Wolf below.  Meet Edmund.

Have a great weekend!

~~~~~

Edmund trailed behind the little princess and her posse of giggling girlfriends down the darkened paths surrounding the worn out circus. This was a security nightmare. A risk he was not thrilled about taking, but what Princess Gillia wanted, Princess Gillia usually got through any means necessary. She was the only daughter of their pack leader, spoiled from the time of her birth and a royal pain in his ass.


This little stop had been her idea. “It’ll be fun, Eddy,” she’d scolded, using the hated nickname she’d given him years ago. “Relax a little, would ya. I want to know about my future.”

“This is not a good idea, Princess, there is danger here.” The air held a scent. It was familiar, yet not. It raised his hackles to be anywhere in the area, but again Gillia had played the bitch card.

“I’ll tell daddy you’re being mean!” As threats go, it should have meant nothing, however, the pack leader gave his child everything she desired, including Edmund’s head on a platter if so requested. So here they were, about to allow some old gypsy woman to delve into their hearts and minds, to swim in their secrets. Oh hell, he hoped this woman was a fake, because if she sensed their wolves, he’d have to kill her.

Gypsy Wolf

Happy Friday everyone,

As I near the end of my current story, I find myself thinking about new characters and I give the ideas that have been germinating these many weeks a chance to flow onto the paper as scenes or scene-ettes.  :)

Here's a character whose been prowling the lounge waiting for a name.  She finally found it and is slowly but surely sharing her story with me.

Meet my Gypsy Wolf, Branwen De' Oslof.

Branwen De’ Oslof shuffled the deck of her grandmares antique tarot cards. She divided the deck into three even stacks, placed them directly in front of her on the table and once again flipped to see her past, present and future.

Five of Swords. Defeat, failure and loss were staring up at her from her past card—A path that brought misery, but also new beginning to its holder.

There had certainly been enough of each in her short life so far. So much so, that she’d wound up at this failing traveling circus deep in the heart of nowhere.

The upside down Devil. The present is a new start, a freedom to overcome that, which is bad or addictive.

This troupe was her new start, her chance at freedom. Everyone here took double duty doing various jobs. She spent her days caring for the group’s children and the pack of dogs who had taken to her almost immediately. At night, she became Branwen, tigan lupul or gypsy wolf, clarvazatoare or seer of all things past, present and future.

The upside down Magician. Deception, Trickery and deceit filled her future. Something wicked was coming her way, a change waiting to disrupt her life. A force she feared right down to the marrow of her bones. The only question was, when it would come.