Tuesday, November 29, 2011


I know you've been waiting with batted breath to find out what happens to Contessa and Cezon and who is the child anyway. Will your questions be answered? You'll have to read to find out. 
For a recap, read: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
Cezon shook his head. “You sound like your mother.”

Contessa smiled. The child’s face slipped from disdain to fascination. He wouldn’t blink. He wouldn’t look away. Contessa stopped smiling and glared. He looked away then.

Cezon ruffled the child's dark hair. “Contessa is fairly attractive but when she smiles, she’s stunning.”

She turned that biting stare on him. Cezon's eyes glowed with amusement.

“She unleashes that smile and any creature would do what he asked. It's fascinating.”

“Let’s eat so we can visit the child's home.”Contessa choked back the sigh.

“It doesn’t work on you?” The child asked Cezon.

He laughed, a hearty sound. She wanted to strangle him. “Of course not, I know her.”

The child dragged his feet, tried numerous excuses but fortunately, he was too afraid of Contessa to lead them anywhere else but his home.

The smell leaking from this building was obscene. Contessa stepped back, so did Cezon.

“What loathsome bile did they create in this place?” Contessa asked.

The child took lead. They had no choice but to follow.

The inside smelled horrendous but looked normal enough. The air was old. His parent's hadn't sleep here last night. They would find nothing of value here. Cezon grabbed her hand.

They aren’t his birth parents.

No, they are not. Are you surprised?

“Yes I am.” Cezon headed to the stairs. “Lead us to your room.”

The child hesitated long enough to make Contessa's fingers itch but she kept her mouth shut and her ire chained.

Asamee’s room wasn't extraordinary nor was it a cell. His parents weren’t here to confirm whether or not they loved him but, they wanted Asamee to believe they did.

The rest of the house answered none of their questions. His parents were brilliant enough to create this child, they would not leave evidence for others to discover.

“Where is that smell coming from?” She held her hand over her mouth and nose. It didn’t help.

“Asamee’s parents searched out the vilest people and gorged themselves on their souls.”

Disgust rose. She beat it down. It didn't stay there. 

“Why?” was all she could get out.

“Disgusting I know,” Cezon opened the front door and let Contessa and Asamee pass, “They must’ve needed the power for something.”

Contessa looked at him. “Enough souls to create such a noxious scent would corrode the creature- mind and body. Who would risk such a fate for temporary power?”

Cezon's chuckle held little amusement He hooked his arm around her waist and kissed her cheek. “That’s the thing about SoulEaters- you stick to your own class and get only a narrow view of things." He kissed her again and released her.

The air felt strange, heavier- even the humans felt it. Too many got into altercations over something as inane as an impassive glance. A women leapt in freight when a car bumped the curb as it turned. Others searched frantically for a vaporous villain they felt stalking them. Contessa too sensed death's slow march into this city.


She despised the interruption but couldn’t deny the fear in the child's voice.

“What is going to happen to me?”

She looked at Cezon who gave a noncommittal shrug. “You'll stay with us.”

Contessa faced forward but not fast enough to avoid Asamee’s smile.

They arrived at their building but neither entered. The scent at the front door was disturbing.


Contessa rushed through the building and took the stairs eight at a time. Ivo was curled on the floor outside their door. She was withering and muttering words Contessa didn't understand. She stared wide-eyed at the wall as though the monster that mauled her soul was still here.

“Manly,” Ivo said as Contessa knelt beside her.  

Contessa bit back her relief. “Hey sweetheart.” She brushed Ivo’s thick hair out of her face. As usual, it didn’t stay there.

“Why won’t you do something with this hair?”

Ivo's gaze recovered some clariety but was still too distant. Her soul had been mangled. It wasn't healing becasue she was outside their barrier. Who could have done this? SoulEaters gained sustenance from souls. They could not manipulate it, let alone maul it. 

Cezon arrived followed closely by Asamee. He opened the door. Ivo’s started to heal once they crossed the threshold. By the time Contessa placed her on the couch, she could speak coherent sentences. Ivo caught sight of Asamee and something ugly crept into her face.

“YOU. You smell like them.”

They all turned to Asamee. He looked at each of them with defiance.

Contessa positioned herself in front of the child. “What happened?”

She eyed Contessa as though she did not recognize her elder sister. “Two creatures, fat with power, barged into Those that Rule's place of residence and devoured them. I was there because I smelled something strange around you, Manly, and wanted permission to visit. Those creatures killed the Heads of each class as well. All except,” she looked from Contessa to Cezon,” the Noble and the Draior class.”

Contessa looked at Cezon who shook his head. “So they will be after us.”

Ivo nodded. “What is that behind you; it reeks of those creatures?”

Asamee moved from behind Contessa and glared at Ivo.

“I am not a what. My name is Asamee Banks.”

Ivo looked startled for a second then roared with laughter.

“Manly, how many times have you wanted to kill this child? I like him already.”

Cezon, as usual, stayed away from Ivo. He leaned on the wall with his arms folded and his mouth closed.

A scream reached through the window, grabbed hold of Contessa's fear and dragged it to the surface. They rushed to the window but they didn’t need to. They felt the army of SoulEaters descending on the city. Humans were dropping dead. Some ran but they could not escape a monster they could not see.

These SoulEater were not killing for nourishment. The perfume of their depraved game mated with death and produced a truly agonizing scent. It pulled at Contessa's baser instincts to leapt through the window and save the humans.

“Contessa!” She turned to Asamee, the fear and panic in his face was palpable, “Did they create me to help them with this?”

She didn't know all they had planned for Asamee but was sure this had been a part of it.

She nodded. His walls crumbled and so did he.  Ivo rose and collected Asamee into her arms. His brilliant soul repair her sullied one.

“We cannot stop this can we?” Contessa asked.

They didn’t answer. She turned back to the horror on the street and watched the SoulEaters devour the city.

Monday, November 21, 2011

Why I Don't Watch the News

I just found out many people in other cities didn't know thousands of peaceful protesters descended on Manhattan last Thursday for a Day of Action. This blows my mind. It was history in the making. Why wasn't this on every news channel?

Like I said in The "Day of Action," I stalked Twitter that morning to follow the protests at the NYSE. After work, I went to the protest at Foley Square and took pictures. I learned later my parents, who live in DC, wouldn't have known what was going on if I hadn't sent them pictures. How much sense does that make?

I did a YouTube search for the video of police dragging a woman by the hair. The first result, the promoted video, was called OWS Exposed. It's an incredibly horrible, incredibly untrue video. What is wrong with people?

Also, according to the news, the protesters were kicked out of Zuccotti Park because they were filthy and engaging in illegal activities. What utter nonsense! If you want to know what the park looked like check out my Picasa Album. For people who've been living outside for weeks, this place was remarkably clean and well organized.

What exactly was the reason then, for the police trashing thousands of books that made up The People's Library? The protesters worked hard to collect and catalog those books.

The Occupy Movement is huge. It's not just happening in NY but across the country actually, across the world. A while ago, I was reading articles about Occupy protesters in London. People need to know about this.

Friday, November 18, 2011

The "Day of Action"

I stalked Day of Action on Twitter yesterday because I had to work and  went straight to Foley Square afterward. I had no idea what to expect and was slightly nervous. Excitement overruled. A lot of people were there- a spectacular sight. The atmosphere was amazing-the chanting, the music, the speeches, the signs! I didn't have my camera but thankfully, phones come with cameras now.

Police were everywhere. They set up an unnecessary amount of barricades for a peaceful protest. At least they kept to themselves.

I grossly underestimated how cold it was. My feet were nearly frozen by the time I headed home but I had a great time.

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Publishing Industry Research Guide

Becoming a successful published author is not just about writing a good book. It's unfortunate but a beautifully written story will not sell itself. I'm sure you've heard this before though. You need to know the publishing industry and the genre you're writing in. This is important now more than ever becasue technology is changing how readers interact with content.

Using Google Sites, I created a Publishing Industry Research Guide for a class assignment. The resources in this guide show how I research the publishing industry. You can view it here or on the left sidebar under Publishing Industry Research Guide. Let me know what you think!

Monday, November 14, 2011

Immortals 3D

I wanted 300 in 3D. I didn't get it. Immortals was as violent, probably more but that wasn't the problem. 300 was pure awesomeness; Immortals was not.

The movie had an interesting plot but it wasn't developed. Hyperion was supposed to be this evil king but he was merely an annoying and disgusting human being. I didn't see him as this force to be reckoned with.

I didn't believe in the character's relationships, especially the one between Theseus and Phaedra. It lacked any substance. The characters were boring cliches. The only memorable ones were the gods and that's only because they had the best fight scenes.

The visuals were impressive though. Despite it being pointless in 3D (how many times have you heard that before), it was really nice to look at. I hate to use the phrase visually stunning but it's the best way to describe Immortals. 

I liked the ending. Like 300, it wasn't all sugary sweet. The whole good guy beats bad guy, gets the girl and they live happily ever after wouldn't fit this movie. It wasn't as simple as that. Immortals couldn't have had any other ending.

The plot just fell flat. It would've been better if it was longer. That being said, I didn't leave the theater groaning over the wasted money. I don't regret seeing it. It had potential. Immortals could've been a great movie.

Friday, November 11, 2011


My writing style has changed...again but I don't mind. It's not like I can do anything about it. Well, I can but my story would suffer. I'm really excited to see how this one turns out. Maybe a bit too excited. I need to keep telling myself just becasue I like the detail doesn't mean it needs to be included. We writers have to sometimes be brutal to our creations.

I still don't have an end but this will remain a short story. I don't need yet another novel on my plate. Who knows, maybe down the road this story will turn into a novel, it's happened before. Enjoy Part 3. Hopefully by next time, I'll have a title and an ending. For a recap read Part 1 and Part 2.

"Good Morning Conta!"

Contessa cringed, shelving the desire to kill the child for entering her domain and waking her before she was ready.

He reached for her soul. She could've stopped him but shortening her name was an offense she wouldn't let slide.  He remained upright longer than expected. He curled on the floor gasping and sputtering, gripping his middle. The fear in is his face was remarkable.
He only gingerly touched her so he wouldn't die. He just felt like he would. 
"Remember this pain child. My soul is coated in a poison. Nothing can touch it without causing harm to themselves."

She stepped over the whimpering little SoulEater and walked to the kitchen.

Cezon was cooking sausage.

"Did you tell that child to touch my soul?" She leaned on the counter.

"If I wanted him dead, I'd do it myself." 

She raised her eyebrows in agreement.

"He is mixed. Could he be a relative of yours?"

"No, our Class is small. We know everyone."

Draiors remain the only mixed-class family. Cross-Class communication among SoulEaters didn't exist until Cezon's ancestors mated and bore children with the ability to adapt their personalities so they can interact with other Classes on familiar terms. 

She ran her fingers through her hair. "So what is he?" 

Cezon shurgged then glanced behind her.
"I apologize Contessa for that egregious breech of your personal space."

She turned to the child and tilted her head. "Beautifully put."

He was smart enough not to look pleased with himself.

"We will meet your parents today," she continued.


The child put far too much command behind that little word. Cezon frowned. Contessa let her face become a blank mask.

This child was no Draior which made his origins far more troubling. There weren't many SoulEater to begin with. As a Noble, Contessa was acquainted with everyone in every Class. Cezon was not only a good friend but her personal Liaison. 

If the child belonged to one Class, she would've assumed someone had a child while she was away and her parents forgot to mention it. But, a mixed-Class child who was not a Draior would've been grand news.
Cezon moved her from the counter, wrapped his hand around her waist and pressed his cheek to hers.

 Someone has fabricated him- grown him somehow by taking the blood of two different Classes.

Is that possible?

Some Classes tried it but were not successful. The SoulEater exhibited traits of the two Classes but could not do what we Draiors do naturally.

Neither can he.

No, but he has potential. It is possible something has experimented on a Draior.

That is not possible.

Okay, no it isn't. But by rights this child should not exist so the impossible it our only option.

We need to meet his parents.

Yes, we do.

He pulled away and returned to the breakfast.

"May I ask something?"

Contessa and Cezon exchanged glances then looked at the child. Contesssa did not like him being so brazen towards her but she also didn't like this timid thing.

Cezon grabbed her hand and eased her growing desire to end him.

"Ask away Asamee," Cezon sang.

The child giggled then stopped when he glanced at Contessa.

"Why do you eat normal food?"

"Because it tastes good," Cezon answered, "How long have you known what you are?"

He balked and looked at his feet.

"Cezon asked you a question, look him in the eyes."

He did so without hesitation.

"I do not remember anything past two days ago."

"But you know your parents."

"I do."

"What do they say about your memory loss?"

"I had an accident. I fell out of a tree and hurt my head pretty bad."

They lied to him. Contessa looked into his soul and saw his parents explaining his memory loss to him.

"Why do you call me child, Conta?"

She cringed but decided not to beat him for spitting on her name.

"You have not yet earned the respect of being called anything but child."

He frowned. "But Cezon calls me by my name."

"The Drariors are a Class of their own and make their own rules."

Cezon chuckled at the child's confusion. "Don't worry, Contessa called me boy for a year."

"But my name is not child, it is Asamee and I wish to be called such."

"You can wish all you want, it is not going to happen."

He scrunched his face and placed his little hands on his little waist. Contessa was ready to rip him apart.

Cezon stepped between them. 

"Your bravery is admirable but the Nobles have no tolerance for people who demand things from them, especially those that don't deserve that honor. Contessa's father broke a male's neck for demanding he send me to Liaison for his land."

"Do not diminish my father's strength. He did not break his neck, father squeezed it until it caved." 

Enjoy the conclusion! 

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

Reading Enhanced

I love it when authors use technology to find exciting ways to present content!

Speaking of which, I recently came across this app called Byook. I had no idea what it was but I was in the mood for a good horror related app. It got great reviews and more importantly- it was free so, I installed it.
"Byook brings stories to life incorporating pictures, animations, and sound effects throughout captivating texts. Using codes and rules defined by movies, a byook strengthens the reader’s immersion and unleashes the true potential of Imagination."
I know, I'm late to the game but this app is like the awesomest thing ever. The byook, titled Little Fear, is a horror short story punctuated at each turn of the page with animations and great sound effects straight out of a movie. Even with these visuals, it still left enough to the imagination. The story itself was well-written.

Because I signed in with Facebook, the app literally put me in the story. I will admit, this was a little creepy but awesome at the same time. According to some reviews, people who hated reading loved this. Anything that gets none-readers to enjoy reading is okay by me.

But, this could be a slippery slope. I'm imagining a future where badly written books become popular simply because they have great sound effects and animations.

...Sounds familiar. There is a very popular poorly written series, unfortunately. I take comfort in the knowledge that 10 years from now, no one will remember it.

Byook is an interesting idea. Let's see how it develops.

Monday, November 7, 2011

My Writing is Me

I read often the way to deal with rejection is to remember they're rejecting the story not me. I understood that but my current short story got me thinking, for some reason. That sort of reasoning is far too practical. I'm going to file it under easier said than done. I might go as far as placing it in the impossible folder.

My writing is me. No matter what I'm writing, I put my soul into it, not on purpose, if I don't, my work suffers. It would be nice if I didn't have to open my soul and reveal it to people I don't know but, it has to be done. I like to create things and I have to put everything I am into it or I'd hate the end result. So, to say they aren't rejecting me just my story is a little hard to wrap my head around.

Rejections are going to suck and there's no way around it. The best way to get over it is to have unshakable confidence in your work and surround yourself with people who will not let you give up. People are important because after so many rejections, that confidence may not be so unshakeable.

Friday, November 4, 2011


To break with tradition I'm posting the second part of a short story I'm working on. You can read the first part here: Enjoy. I haven't done much world building but it's interesting how the details are just flowing. The characters' names are set but their race's name is not. SoulEater is completely unimaginative. I still don't know where I'm going with this but I like it so far. 
The child followed as though he had every right to. Contessa was aware of his presence but didn't acknowledge him. Three men stepped out of darkness and stalked the child with intentions that made the air taste of rotten milk. Their souls were sucked out minutes later. The child hadn't broken his stride.

Contessa arrived at her apartment building shortly after and waited for the child to catch up. He had enough sense to quicken his pace. She opened the front door and the child walked passed her without a word or a glance in her direction. Contessa's pride demanded she grab his collar and throw him to the darkness. The child's scent slated her growing indignation but she kept her distance as they waited for the elevator.

They entered her apartment just as Cezon Draior stepped out of his bedroom. Contessa ignored his raised eyebrow as she fell on the couch and propped her feet on the coffee table. 

"Smells like you bought home dinner," he said as he walked to the couch and leaned on it.  

"He's not human."

Cezon eyed the child. "Would you look at that, so he isn't?"

The child stood in the middle of the living room looking more curious than afraid.

"I have no idea what he is." Cezon
inhaled so deeply his nose whistled.  

"Neither do I. He smells like a SoulEater but there's another potent, dominate, creature apart of him."

"It is potent isn't it?" Cezon wrinkled his nose, "How curious."

"What is your name child?" Cezon demanded.

The child put on a stolid mask and shook his head. Contessa felt Cezon's pique
rise with hers. Lesser beings not answering out of fear was a tolerable irritation. Defying a Draior and a Torain because of some imagined sense of self-worth got you killed, slowly.

"Asamee," he said.   

Cezon smirked and glanced at her. This child's voice could get stronger, more ill-bred creatures to submit to him. Only two classes of SoulEaters had a demeanor that demanded others to listen and obey.

"Curious. Well brazen Asamee, my name is Cezon Draior and she's Contessa Torain."

Asamee looked from one to the other with more confidence and poise then he deserved. Contessa was close to breaking him in half. Cezon dragged his fingers through her hair. The contact quieted the enraged voice of her pride.

"You two aren't related?" 

Cezon dug his fingers into Contessa's hair to keep her from lunging at the child.

"No, we are not. We are merely good friends," Cezon said killing the second question people usually asked. 

"You're hair color changed when you walked in here," the child said to Contessa. 

She winced at the child's lack of focus. In their true form, they had dark brown skin, long peach colored hair and gold eyes. They did not wish to draw unneeded attention onto themselves so they created a barrier around the apartment that strips them of enough power to turn their hair and eyes black when they leave and gives the power back upon their return.

"You can see those creatures that kill people on the train but you aren't like them," he continued.

"Contessa is of a higher class. She doesn't need to take the soul from the body to feed on it," Cezon responded releasing his grip on her head. "We, SoulEaters, don't need to kill humans but what other use are they?"

"So child," Contessa started, "either you have no home or your home is unpleasant so, you can stay the night and we'll figure out what to do with you tomorrow."

The child nodded then settled on the couch, thankfully, away from Contessa. They owned a television but never watched it. He uprooted the remote and turned on the noise box. Contessa cringed.

Cezon leaned over the couch, wrapped his arms around Contessa and pressed his cheek to hers. SoulEaters communicate secretly through skin contact. Most hold hands but Cezon liked to communicate with her this way.

You did not know that child wasn't human when you saved him.

Cezon could smell death on the child's soul and knew how close he was to it and why.

No. He has a brilliant soul. It would’ve been a waste.

Yeah, the dirty ones taste better anyway.

Contessa chuckled. Cezon rubbed his cheek against hers and pulled away.

“Did you eat
?” He asked.

“Yes and so did the child.”

Read On!

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