Sipping coffee in the autumn air

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From Pixabay

I was reminded yesterday of a creative writing workbook I had used when I was in college between 1998-2001 called “The Artist’s Way” by Julia Cameron. During that time I was going to the European Division of the University of Maryland University College. Yes,  it had the acronym of UMUC.

Some one made the joke that we were running amok and it kind of stuck.

While I was in that college I worked on a BA in English Literature and a minor in Germany history. I won’t get into the curriculum, but the writing schedule was brutal. I wrote at least two papers for the history courses and three to four papers for the English courses. I was either memorizing, researching, or writing. Plus I didn’t have the time for brain freezes.

This book had exercises to help keep the brain on track. It also advises writers to do other things so that our subconscious can have some time to put some pieces together without our logical brain trying to help. The logical brain has that “editor” that wants our writing to be perfect. It causes the subconscious mind to go on strike.

It is not a good thing to turn off either the subconscious or logical mind. I thought at one time that writing with the subconscious mind would make great stories and poems. Not true. It’s the logical mind that contains the grammar and sentence structure.

If you’ve tried to read “stream of consciousness” you’ll find it is hard reading. If I wanted to be a literature writer with only a couple of readers, I would go that direction. But I want to write genre fiction, particularly fantasy.

One of the reason’s I like “The Artist’s Way” and Julia Cameron’s other book “Walking this World” is because it lets the subconscious play a bit. Then it helps the subconscious and logical mind work together in the act of creation.

So if your well of ideas is going dry and your mind is blank. Try some of her ideas.

As for me, I am going back to writing on Unlicensed Sorceress. Here is a taste of it.

 Unlicensed Sorceress Chapter 10 Scene 1

Mage University
Hilda Brant
It was slightly humiliating to be in school with the junior mages. Hilda wasn’t as limber as the young ones who sat in a circle and yelled out the alphabet. Five little ones just over six years old and Hilda was at least forty years older than the youngest one.

At lest the reading teaching didn’t expect her to sit on the rug. Hilda sat in a chair behind the other students, laboriously writing the first three letters of the alphabet. It wasn’t often that they got adults in the reading class. The teacher had assured her that she would learn. It was a little humiliating that the younger students were learning faster than she was.

A younger mage came over to look at her work. She was writing on a slate. “Here,” the mage said. “You need to make straighter lines.

The chalk felt dusty and she pressed to hard on the slate. The chalk broke and one half flew across the room. It had been a long time since she had been an underling and it was frustrating. The young mage who was showing her the letters hid a smile behind a hand.
“Come on,” he said. “You have several advantages. Use your skills. Don’t you know how to communicate with a team?”

Hilda nodded her head. They had used signs and symbols to communicate with each other, this wasn’t any harder.

“Plus,” the mage continued. “You have an elemental. She can help you.”

Hilda didn’t want to use Sassy. She’d have the little elemental saying, “A. A. A,” at her until Hilda went crazy. The mage looked at her sternly. It was kind of funny to see a teenager look stern. It was the same look she gave to others when they weren’t trying.

In front of them, the children had gotten to their feet and were jumping up and down. The noise in the room stopped her concentration. She wanted to sit up and jump up and down too.

“Come on,” said her teenage torturer. “Call your elemental.”

One thing she didn’t want the mage’s to know was that she didn’t have to call the elemental. Sassy stayed with her all the time. In fact she was peeping out from behind her hair so that she could get a closer look at the children. She wasn’t much older than the children.

You’d think that elementals were old as the hills. You’d think that they had been here forever. Yes, elementals had been here forever. They they were born and then they died. Sassy was from an old line but she was a young one. Hilda had found her on the battlefield. She had saved Sassy and Sassy had saved her. Still Sassy loved the energy of the children and wanted to play with them.

When the teenage mage saw Sassy, his eyes widened. “She’s not full grown.” There was a tone of outrage in his voice.

“You could say that,” said Hilda.

“What did you do with her parents?”

Hilda could see that the teenage mage was agitated. Hilda leaned away from him when she saw the small fireball in his hand.

The teacher saw the fireball, gathered up the children, and then herded them outside.

“Time to play,” she said gaily. The children got into line and followed her out.

Hilda watched the teenage mage. “Put out the fire,” she said.

“Not until you tell me what you did to her parents.” The teenage voice changed and his eyes went red. The boy was gone and in its place was an elemental.

“I didn’t know you could possess a human,” Hilda said. She stood up and put her hand on her belt. Her sword was gone. Plus she didn’t want to kill the mage. She could push the mage and not get hurt. Having a fire elemental meant that she couldn’t be hurt as badly when struck with fire magic.

Still she put her hand on Sassy. “No,” she said to Sassy. “No.”

“I did nothing to her parents.” Hilda said to the possessed mage. “She was flickering when I found her.”

“Liar,” roared the possessed mage.

Mage Godfroy hurried into the room. “Stop it,” he said when he saw that we were about to get into a fight. I had been a few in my day. The young ones forgot that even though I hurt in places, I did know how to make a young man hurt even worse.

When we didn’t change position, and the possessed mage started to move his hands into an intricate pattern, Mage Godfroy yelled, “Stop It!”

The sound of his voice hung in the hair and vibrated through Hilda’s body. The mage must have put a spell behind the words because Hilda stopped and the young mage stopped. The two of them couldn’t move.

“What started it,” Mage Godfroy said.

His words loosened the teenage mage so that he could speak. “Her elemental is too young.”

“I know,” said Mage Godfroy. “She has a dispensation.” Then he turned toward Hilda, “and you?”

Hilda’s lips moved. “Just defending myself, sir.”

Mage Godfroy dropped his control over them. “You,” he pointed at Hilda. “Learn to read.”

As if Hilda could learn to read immediately without practice. She sighed and went back to her chalk and slate.

“You,” he pointed at the teenage mage. “Come with me.”

The younger mage shook a little. “But sir.” A little whine came out of his mouth.

Mage Godfroy grabbed the younger mage by the back of the neck. Hilda could hear his words, “You allowed your elemental to possess you. After your discipline, you’ll go back to the beginning classes.”

Hilda heard a whine coming from teenage mage. Soon Hilda was alone in the room.
She began tracing the letters again. “Sassy,” she said. “Can you help me with these letters?”

Sassy jumped out and sat next to the slate. “A. A. A,” she said. Hilda sighed. If she wanted to get licensed as a magic-user, she needed to learn how to read. “What’s this one?” she asked Sassy.

“B. B. B,” Sassy said.

Why couldn’t she use magic to learn to read?

“C. C. C,” Sassy started with the next letter.

Unlicensed Sorceress excerpt

This weekend I took a break from writing after finishing the last edits of Dark Moon Rising. I spent some time with a friend and  we talked about cross-stitching and other crafts. She had just completed a silhouette of Harry Potter characters for one of her nieces. I’ve done cross-stitch patterns that resembled woodcuts and those are much harder to keep the lines straight than doing colored cross-stitch patterns.

File Oct 09, 7 05 03 AM So this weekend I finished cross-stitching an owl. I watched Cleverman again so that I could get into season too. Plus took the dog for a walk.

Today I am onto Unlicensed Sorceress, which is the third book in Hilda’s Inn. Hilda is now in Koenigstadt and finds that Lord Barton and his cohorts are spreading rumors about her magical abilities.

Just a little excerpt to wet your whistle:

Part of Chapter Two in Unlicensed Sorceress

Koenigstadt
Hilda Brant
It had been a long time since Hilda had slept in a soft bed. She stretched and her knee locked. She rolled out of bed and stamped her leg on the floor, swearing under her breath. Sassy looked up out of the dying coals and grinned at her. Michael knocked on the door and whispered, “Are you okay?”

“Damn it,” said Hilda. “I hate getting old.” She heard a click in her knee, and then it loosened up.

She opened the door. Michael leaned against the door jamb with a small smile on his face. “Breakfast is ready,” he said. He turned away and she slammed the door. To hell if it made noise, she felt grouchy.

Her breeches had been laundered and left on a wooden chair. She had a shirt made to go with them. Instead of dressing in her traveling clothes, she looked in the wooden wardrobe. There was a gown and a cloak hanging there. Folded on the bottom was a shift and a simple dress. It only took her moments to get dressed. She could smell eggs and bacon and her stomach began to grumble.

She slipped on a pair of slippers and went to eat.

A young man waited, while they finished their breakfast. He separated Hilda from the rest of the group. “You need to come with me, madam,” he said and put his hand on her arm. She didn’t say a word, but let him take her arm. She didn’t pull away from him or use any self-defense moves. She was proud that she went with him quietly.
The young man was probably a mage. Sassy stayed hidden in the flame. It would be better if the mage didn’t know she had an element.

He walked with her through the gardens and then turned to a small innocuous building. Trees and bushes hid the building. Hilda could think of a hundred ways she could hide in the bushes and ambush anyone working there.

Since she had become a mercenary, she still had that instinct to look at someone and know how to kill them. Though as she looked closely around her, she could feel and smell magical traps. If she had really ambushed this building, she would be either captured or dead within minutes.

The young man must have read her face. He smirked just a little. “Every mage meets the big man,” he said cryptically.

Whoever built these traps was more paranoid than her and more powerful. She didn’t say a word and hoped her face didn’t show her sudden anxiety.

She sniffed, but only could smelled the trees and flowers. There was no smell of burning ash or rotten eggs. So if her nose was right, she wouldn’t have to deal with a dragon or a demon. There wasn’t a hint of corruption in the smell. Usually life has death mixed in it. The smells were too antiseptic. It made her nervous.

The door opened before the young man knocked. An older man with a huge smile showing yellow and broken teeth, invited Hilda into a small room with two chairs and a desk. Then the young man left.

The older man pointed Hilda to a seat. He walked around the desk and slouched in his chair. She waited for him to speak. The silence stretched for a long time. He looked down on a piece of paper and then looked up at her. Hilda would have given much to know what was written there. But she had never learned to read and had only learned basic math skills for running the inn.

She waited. She was not going to break the silence. She was not a young thing who would get nervous if some man looked at her long enough. She recognized this interrogation technique.

Finally the older man cleared his throat. She waited for him to speak.
“My name is Morcant,” he said.

Hilda nodded her head, politely.

“I will be discussing with you the unfortunate incident in the forest south of here. But first,” he handed me a piece of paper. “Sign here.”

“No,” Hilda said. “I will not sign something I cannot read.” She stopped her arms from folding against her chest. She didn’t want to look defensive. She gripped the chair arms firmly. Then said, “I want my brother to read this before I sign.”
Morcant’s eyes flickered back and forth. Hilda knew that the next words out of his mouth would be a lie. “It’s just saying that you are a mage.”

“But I am not,” she said. “I have not gone to the mage university and I have not practiced ritual magic. I am not a mage.”

“If you don’t sign this paper,” Morcant smiled. Hilda shuddered at that smile. Dragons had a nicer smile than this man. Morcant continued. “Then I will send you to the dungeon for dangerous criminals.”

“I have done nothing wrong,” Hilda said, her eyebrow went up. “What are you trying to pull?” She leaned forward. Morcant leaned back just a little, then he leaned toward her. She caught the slight movement that meant Morcant was nervous.

She felt his magical energies ramp up. She wished Sassy was with her because the two of them could overpower this wannabe. She sent a probe towards him on the off chance that she could read something in his mind. He blocked her and the smile wiped off his face.

He sent a probe back. She could barely push it away. She knew he was going to try again, so she reached for her knife. Damn. She was disarmed.
She reached across the desk and grabbed a pen.

A heaviness came over her limbs. She fought it and she could see beads of sweat roll down Morcant’s face.

“Enough,” someone yelled. Both Hilda and Morcant collapsed. Hilda was lying on the floor unable to move. Two legs and feet appeared in her view. Someone, very strong, picked her up.

As she was being carried out of the room, she saw a healer leaning over Morcant. His face was white and he was breathing shallowly.

“What the hell did you do to him?” said a familiar voice. “Hilda… Hilda.”

She looked up into the face of Rooso. She wanted to say “What are you doing here?” but her lips wouldn’t move.

He carried her all the way back to the house.

She Called It, Wolf Excerpt

She called it wolf cover 2017 I wrote this particular book quite early during my training phase with NANOWRIMO. It gave me the momentum to actually finish a novel. Last year I finished the first draft in the second of this series. When I went back to find names of characters and remember the story line, I came to a sad conclusion. I needed to redraft. The plot was sound, but the actual writing needed trimming in places and additions in others. The big change was from third person to first person.

So editing this book has turned into a real bear. I thought I could zip through it in a week. I am now about two weeks into it.

On the health front, I am having the normal reaction to having a misbehaving thyroid. I am going crazy.

So without further ado, here is an excerpt:

Chapter Thirteen

Felony Flats, EJ’s trailer
Sheriff Adam

The dark was more than vision, it was velvet across his skin. I could hear the owls and coyotes in the distance. It was my turn to watch Harry’s trailer. Owen was sound asleep in his own bed or someone else’s. I was in my truck and sore as hell. The green of the radio’s light lit up the inner cab. I stretched and felt my spine pop, one vertebrae at a time. It had been a long day. I should be home, drinking a beer.

I was here because I had had feeling in the pit of his stomach, the one that felt like leather and fur. I listened to that feeling. I was alpha and that feeling meant a new transformation. If I didn’t listen a new werewolf could get into trouble. The moon wasn’t out. For the older werewolves or the ones with more power, moon-time wasn’t the only time they could change. The moon did pull them. That part of the lore was true. It was probably why the goddess Diana was associated with lunar wolves.

My disquiet intensified around 2 a.m., when I saw the trailer door open and close. EJ stood naked in the night air. Her black braid hung to her waist, her skin soft and pearly in the moonlight. I felt the call and groaned. She was the personification of Diana: monochromatic in the night. Then she burst into static light and fur. It was so bright that I had to close my eyes.

When the light disappeared, there was a wolf by the trailer. Damn. She really is a werewolf. Her wolf sable coat shimmered with silver highlights. He wanted even more.
I felt the fur ruffle under my skin. I got out of my truck, folded my clothes on the front seat, and started the process of turning from man to wolf. My transformation was much slower and more painful. I didn’t have the moon to help me.

My wolf crept closer and closer with the promise of meeting this new female. As Alpha I had a better connection to the power. I could shift in five minutes. Most of the pack went through a slow painful process that could take up to fifteen minutes to change.

I endured as the muscles popped and the skin stretched. I felt my ears lengthen and my hair turn to fur.

As soon as I felt my four feet, I ran. The wolf came to the forefront of my mind as I stepped back. As always it was an uneasy truce between wolf and man. The wolf had the present, but his five senses – taste, touch, smell, sight, hearing – were more acute. The female wolf was running. My wolf smelled her, leaped, and then followed.

Felony Flats
EJ Hunter

At 2 a.m. I woke up with my wolf whining in the back of my mind. Run, run, run, taste, smell. My wolf wanted to run, mark, and make the place her own. I got out of bed, stripped, and started for the door. Barkley lifted his head up, sniffed, and settled back into the bed. The dog snored.

I looked up at the stars. As I stepped into the back of my mind, my wolf took over. A blast of light. I turned from woman to wolf. My wolf lifted up her nose and chuffed. She smelled a metallic scent and then an intriguing smell of man-wolf. She walked to the bush where Owen had stayed for a night. It was not the smell that enticed her.

She lifted her tail and ran down a small dust trail that lead from the trailer. The Alpha grew stronger. If he wanted her, he would have to catch her. She ran like the wind down the path. In the dry dust, she could smell the life around her– rabbits, mice, and a couple of coyotes. She stopped to catch a mouse. Crunch and it was gone. Her attention went to the coyotes. They shouldn’t be here. I twas her territory.

Then she could smell him. The Alpha ran down the trail, running toward her. She looked back at him, teeth glinting. He was chasing her and she could smell pheromones reach and catch her attention.

But, she wasn’t ready for an Alpha. This was her territory. He came to a full stop when she snarled at him. He batted at her with his fore paws. She rolled. Then sat down, with her tongue out. He came up to sniff her.

She rolled away from him and ran away. He ran beside her. Her heart was beating and she jumped. She could feel EJ beating against her mind. Go back to the trailer. She didn’t want to go back to the silver can. She wanted to play.

She went from a run to a dead stop, and then hissed and growled. Instead of playing that game, the Alpha howled.

The howl rose and vibrated through his throat and body. It gave her a longing to be a part of a him. He howled again and there was an answering howl. She sat and howled with them. Their howls twined together. The sound burst from her body in waves of sound. She turned tail and ran back to the trailer. EJ urged her on. He ran behind her.
Then he leaped and landed on her back. They rolled together. She snapped at his paws, but he held her down. She could feel his body’s strength against her own. As soon as her let her up, she ran again only this time she jumped and rolled him. There was a chuff that sounded almost like a laugh. They rolled and marked each other until they were lying together. Then he mounted her.

Afterward, he licked her muzzle and she cuddled against him. But, her heart didn’t crack until he left for a moment and returned with a rabbit in his jaws. He laid it near her paws. She sniffed it and then bit. The crunching of the bones was satisfying. They were mates. She could feel EJ frantically trying to get her to get up and go back to the silver box.

The taste of bone, meat, and blood stayed in her mouth. She fell asleep cuddled against the Alpha. They would have beautiful pups together.

***

I woke with the sun in my eyes. I must have left the curtains open. I rubbed my eyes. That was an interesting dream last night. I was a wolf and I met an Alpha. I was not in my bed. I was not in the trailer. I sat up.

Naked. check. On the ground, not on a bed. check. A nude man next to her. check.

“How could you,” I slapped Adam awake. Of course it was Adam. I could feel a blush cover my entire body.

I went outside naked. Did I turn into a wolf? My mind burned with memories. All my wolf had to say was, yum.

I ate a raw rabbit. My wolf asked sleepily, “Why are you so mad?”

I tried to spit out the last of the fragments of that meal, but it was already digested. I remembered falling asleep curled around the Alpha.

Mate and pups corrected my sleeping wolf.

“No,” I said firmly. I didn’t need a mate and I certainly didn’t need pups.

Dark Moon Rising– an excerpt

petrified-forest-national-park-pixabay

From Pixabay

I finished the first draft of Dark Moon Rising last year, but due to life and and Hilda’s Inn, I haven’t finished editing. Silly me, I am re-editing She Called It, Wolf because I noticed that my writing has gotten better by writing. Who knew?

Plus I made a mistake as a new writer. I started a series and only wrote one book. I am hoping to correct that error. In my mind there are three books about the Felony Flats werewolf pack.

Tucked around the novels, I have written some short books in that world–Billy the Kid, Urban Werewolf, and Diamond Butterfly. Hidden in the Sierras is short fiction in the same world, but of a werebear sleuth.

So without further ado, here is an excerpt of Dark Moon Rising:

What the wind blew in

British Columbia, Canada
Mari Cantor

The pine trees swayed around the cabin as the rushing wind heralded the end of summer. Even in the forests, the heat had beat down on the trees. It had been so dry, that the pine needles crackled underfoot. The usual smell of mold was undercut by the dust that covered everything. They had been lucky this year that there had been no huge fires.

I leaned against the frame of the open door, sipping the bitter coffee in my cup. Sweetness was for others. I liked mine strong and black. When I left Felony Flats a few years ago, I came to this small town surrounded by trees that hadn’t been cut for over a hundred years. I had a small car, a small amount of cash, and an aching heart.

I sipped my coffee, rolling the black taste across her tongue, as the light brightened around the cabin for a moment and then vanished in the clouds. It may rain today.
In my head I listed the things I needed to do today. First I would have to finish picking the last tomatoes. The small amount of corn I had grown had been pilfered by raccoons.

But, I could trade the tomatoes for corn. Someone in the small town would have grown enough corn to feed the entire town for the winter. I’d wait to harvest the last of the potatoes after the first good chill. My small garden would keep me well-fed over the winter.

There were very few jobs in this area that didn’t center on hunting and fishing trips for rich tourists. Some of the locals had gotten inventive and started camera tours. Even though a lot of their customers were the tree-huggers, the guides always took guns with them. You never knew when you would run into a grizzly or some other wild creature that was hungry. During mating season the moose would hump anything. I smiled at the image. Some tree-huggers had learned that the hard way.

I drained my coffee, tasting the last of the bitter dregs. As I tasted the bitterness slid across my tongue, my precog kicked in and I froze. It had been a long time since I had been bothered by the buzzing across my nerves. When I ran to the woods, I did it deliberately. I wanted limited contact with people. The more contact I had, the more murmurings I heard in my head. Sometimes they would develop to full-blown epileptic fits caused by visions. Of course, I had run. Ran from the sounds and visions and the people would would use me to see into the future.

I stumbled to the small couch before I fell as the room swayed around me. I dropped my coffee mug. The sound of breaking ceramic almost jerked me out of the vision as I collapsed on the couch and not the floor.

It started like a migraine. Colors burst and bubbled around my vision and pain of constricting and then contracting veins blasted the top of my head. I heard whimpering coming from my own mouth because the pain was so great.

Then my vision narrowed until I saw a long tunnel. At the very end of the tunnel, she saw a man walking towards her. His body was blurred, but she could see the face clearly. There was no sound with this vision. The man, she didn’t want to put name to that face, said something. He was saying her name over and over.

The vision released me as suddenly as it had started. I was too weak to drag myself to the bathroom, even though I wanted to vomit the coffee that had soured in my stomach. I could hear his voice in the wind as it rustled the trees. The leaves called out to me.

My voice cracked, “He’s coming. Heaven help me. He’s coming.”

I wanted to run to the closet, fill my suitcase with clothes, and leave. I had to be gone before he found me. But my body wouldn’t move.

Little by little, I lifted my head, and slowly moved one arm after another. When I could feel my body again, I stood on my feet. My stomach rumbled. In a daze, I swept the coffee mug into a dustpan, and dropped the broken pieces in the trash. I could try to escape, but she I knew in my gut that he had already found me.

“Too late,” the wind whispered.

“Too late,” my heart echoed.

There was a loud knock on the door. For a moment, I stood frozen. This time, a loud yoo-hoo unlocked my brain. It was the neighbor two miles down the road. He wasn’t here, yet.

I threw open the door and saw Susan was standing on the stoop with a child in her arms. She handed the little one to me. “Mari, could you watch the baby while I go for groceries in Vancouver?” Susan chattered about having a baby and the price of diapers and formula.

“Greg said that if you would take care of her today, we can go to the big store and get the stuff much cheaper. Please?”

I couldn’t say no to Susan. Susan was the neighbor who had helped me find this cabin, taught me how to grow a garden to supplement my food, and even how to survive in the backwoods. This woman, short and bouncy, taught me how to survive bears and elk and other creatures. Plus she had showed me what berries to eat and what not to eat.Susan was the closest thing I had to a friend.

Susan’s hazel eyes pleaded. She didn’t get to have much time alone with Greg since the baby was born. I sighed and bounced the child in my arms. The wind rustled and laughed. “No escape.”

I was too late to leave. If I wanted to leave I should have left in the beginning of summer when I had had that small warning. I had seen a fire in my dreams. But, when nothing happened I decided to stay. I had found my nest—my place. I didn’t want to leave.

“Okay,” I said to Susan. She was all business-like as she showed me the milk and the diapers. Like a new mother she gave me instructions on how to care for the baby even though I had done this before.

Then she was in the truck with Greg and they were gone. The wind had quit whistling and blew lightly. I closed the door. The little girl whimpered once and then fell asleep.

I settled into the small rocking chair on the front stoop. I could smell curdled milk and lotion. My heart slowed down. I rocked the baby until my thoughts were quiet.

Once Greg and Susan were back, there would be time to say goodbye to the woods and the cabin. He was coming and I knew deep in my bones that I was not coming back.

I looked out across the dirt road leading through the woods; the baby snuggled in my arms. As the day progressed the light held more shadows. It was fall. I would miss the change from late fall to early winter and snow. This year I had made enough money to buy a snowmobile so that I could get out after the worst snowstorms. Sometimes the lights of the bar and the small town were a welcome sight after being snowed in for days. I wouldn’t buy a snowmobile now.

I was already missing my cabin and my forest. It was so unlike the desert I had played in as a child. At first when I moved here, I would see people in the periphery of my eyes. When I looked straight at them, I only saw trees. I was used to having the landscape stretch before me, unbroken by trees. Now I felt comforted by the trees as they towered over me.

Some of the trees around my cabin were over four feet in diameter and some were even larger. This summer I had been entranced by the squirrels that floated from tree to tree.
Feeding the squirrels could be hazardous. Some of the smaller mammals got rabies. It was better that I didn’t get the animals familiar with this cabin as a feeding ground. So I watched the squirrels and birds, and I stopped the impulse to feed them.

When the baby started to grumble a little, I stood up and took her into the house. I pulled out a bottle of milk from the fridge, warmed it, and feed the little one. The baby grabbed onto the bottle’s nipple with her mouth and sucked hard until the milk was gone. Then I put the baby over my shoulder. I patted her until she burped. It burst out of her.

“I see you have new skills, Mari,” a male voice said from the screen door on my porch. I knew that voice. He had found me.

Dragon Boy excerpt

I had an epiphany yesterday. I am happiest after I have been writing. While I am writing, I try to get in the “zone” another word for the ecstatic trance, I suspect, or the runner’s high. Afterwards, I am tired like I have expended an enormous amount of energy. So to prove I have been writing on the sequel to Hilda’s Inn, I have a treat– an excerpt of Dragon Boy. 

I apologize in advance for a first rough draft. Here is the scene I wrote today:

 

Dragon Boy

The White Road
Davi Dracson

It was full day. Once again Davi noticed that there were no sounds around the road, no mice and rabbits stirred in the grass, and no bugs scurried away from their feet as they tramped towards the road, breaking a path through the grass.

When Varia stood before the road, he noticed that the light and swirling had diminished. The road was shrinking away from the she-dragon. It sent feelings of I’m just a road, just a road. Nothing to see here.

To his normal sight, the cobblestone road was ordinary, except it was in the middle of nowhere. That in itself was a curious thing.
Varia bent over to touch the road, Davi’s thoughts wandered towards how graceful she looked, how regal, and he wanted to touch her.

“Dragonling, control your thoughts,” he heard in his head. He blushed a little, and concentrated on the road.

When he looked with his inner sight, centered in his forehead, he saw that the wraiths were hiding and clinging in the center of the stones. He saw her touch one stone and the occupant was flung into the air. A white light opened and the wraith raced towards the white tunnel as if its life depended on it.

At that moment a black net snared the wraith as it almost reached its escape.

Hilda threw a fireball at the net. The net turned crimson for a moment and then turned to ash. Like feathers the ash fell to the earth. The wraith sped away. For a moment Davi thought he felt gratitude coming from the wraith.

“That was exhausting,” Varia said to the both of them. “And it was only one wraith.” She sighed. Hilda looked tired from just the one fireball. She had already been caught on the road once.

“We need to find the source of the spell.” Davi looked at the two women. “This can’t go on… It can’t.” For a moment, Davi felt pity for the wraiths.

“You saw how much energy we expended for one wraith,” said Hilda. She looked at the road. It went on and on into the far horizon.

“The three of us do not have the energy to free every wraith here. Not in our lifetime.”

Hilda frowned, then said. “How has this magic been overlooked?”
There were no wards around the road. It was as if it wanted to be noticed. Still it had to have been here a long time to have eaten all the souls in the area. It must have run out of souls before it could come to a city. Davi shuddered at the thought of all the damage it could do in the kingdom. Nothing left except this road. It would feed until it filled the entire world.