A Taste Of Prophecy…

Here’s a little taste of my current WIP Prophecy!

He’d never seen her touch a sword. In all of these practice sessions she seemed to live for, she not once reached for a blade — or weapon of any kind now that he thought about it. Not that she needed one, her entire body — lent added strength from her half-vampyre heritage — was an effective weapon on its own. He still sported the array of colorful bruises where her iron-like hand had struck days ago. But still, he mused, tapping a sun-bronzed finger to his lips thoughtfully. Still

It wasn’t as though she didn’t know how to wield one. Her every move, so graceful, so controlled and powerful, belied the swordswoman inside. So why pretend otherwise? Was this what she was hiding from, or perhaps at least part of it?

With his heart thrumming inside his chest he watched Kalisada, bored with her opponent, wrestle the large man to the ground, pinning him easily. A proud smile stretched across her beautiful mouth as the sun glinted off her pale, rosy face. She stood, holding out one hand to the man dusting dirt and grass off his face and clothes, and her laugh poured out, bright and happy the way it did only when she forgot herself. Seeing her this way, he hesitated, but curiosity clawed and itched beneath his skin

“Who’s next?” Kali demanded, still playful, still bright.

Mordred moved before he could stop himself. “I am,” he called, making his way through the throng of people gathered outside the practice pitch. Some snickered as he passed, others watched with frank admiration, but he had eyes for no one but her. The sun struck her dark brown hair, throwing a halo of golden light around her and he couldn’t help but find it odd to see his Silver Girl cast in gold. The yellow warmth was harsh, making the fading sunlight garish in her moonlit presence. Humor and recklessness brightened the iridescent flecks of green in her amber eyes as she appraised him with a good-natured smirk.

“Are you sure?” Kali grinned, nodding at his shoulder where his loose blue tunic hid the mosaic of bluish-black marks. “Can you handle it?” she teased.

He grinned, despite the cackling around him and shrugged. “We’ll see.” The buzz around them doubled as men began placing their bets, and was loud enough to drown out the warning ringing inside Mordred’s mind. The heat of the sun-warmed leather-covered hilt felt right in his hand as he plucked it from a stack near the gate ans tossed it high to Kalisada.

“But this time we do it my way,” he grinned, waiting for her to reach out and snatch up the sword before it hit the ground. She didn’t.

The sword fell heavy in the grass by her feet and for a moment he couldn’t take his eyes off it. An icy silence filled the air, stilling the moment until he lifted his gaze. She stood frozen, panting, her eyes wide and panicked as she stared at the blade. She blanched a sickening shade beneath her already pale skin and for a moment he feared she’d be sick where she stood. But when she finally looked up, a thin veneer of control settled over her features and only a slight shaking of her fingers betrayed her as she calmly brushed past him without a word and made for her grandparents’ home. Mordred turned, his eyes following her, as did everyone else, locked in a stunned silence until a roar split the air behind them.

“You filthy son of a whore!” Treyen bellowed, his face dark and contorted with hate as he all but flew to the practice pitch. A few brave men stepped in the vampyre path to slow their prince’s progress but he barreled through them, careless of their pleas to wait, to hear, to think before he did something unforgivable. Only the swift arrival of the king’s guard halted Treyen a few feet from Mordred’s stunned self. The prince strained to get past, but the guards held firm. “YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’VE DONE!”

“I…I’m sorry, I just…” Mordred fumbled, guilt plowed into him, souring his stomach and nearly knocked him to his knees. What had he done?! The realization nearly choked him: the ease between then, their friendship, that strange warmth…it was ruined, just as he ruined everything. The world tilted sickening.

“Why are you still here?!” Treyen spat, no longer fighting for freedom, but dangerously still. “Why are you still here?!”

Image From Google.

Image From Google.

A Taste Of Prophecy…

Here’s a little taste of my current WIP Prophecy!

He’d never seen her touch a sword. In all of these practice sessions she seemed to live for, she not once reached for a blade — or weapon of any kind now that he thought about it. Not that she needed one, her entire body — lent added strength from her half-vampyre heritage — was an effective weapon on its own. He still sported the array of colorful bruises where her iron-like hand had struck days ago. But still, he mused, tapping a sun-bronzed finger to his lips thoughtfully. Still

It wasn’t as though she didn’t know how to wield one. Her every move, so graceful, so controlled and powerful, belied the swordswoman inside. So why pretend otherwise? Was this what she was hiding from, or perhaps at least part of it?

With his heart thrumming inside his chest he watched Kalisada, bored with her opponent, wrestle the large man to the ground, pinning him easily. A proud smile stretched across her beautiful mouth as the sun glinted off her pale, rosy face. She stood, holding out one hand to the man dusting dirt and grass off his face and clothes, and her laugh poured out, bright and happy the way it did only when she forgot herself. Seeing her this way, he hesitated, but curiosity clawed and itched beneath his skin

“Who’s next?” Kali demanded, still playful, still bright.

Mordred moved before he could stop himself. “I am,” he called, making his way through the throng of people gathered outside the practice pitch. Some snickered as he passed, others watched with frank admiration, but he had eyes for no one but her. The sun struck her dark brown hair, throwing a halo of golden light around her and he couldn’t help but find it odd to see his Silver Girl cast in gold. The yellow warmth was harsh, making the fading sunlight garish in her moonlit presence. Humor and recklessness brightened the iridescent flecks of green in her amber eyes as she appraised him with a good-natured smirk.

“Are you sure?” Kali grinned, nodding at his shoulder where his loose blue tunic hid the mosaic of bluish-black marks. “Can you handle it?” she teased.

He grinned, despite the cackling around him and shrugged. “We’ll see.” The buzz around them doubled as men began placing their bets, and was loud enough to drown out the warning ringing inside Mordred’s mind. The heat of the sun-warmed leather-covered hilt felt right in his hand as he plucked it from a stack near the gate ans tossed it high to Kalisada.

“But this time we do it my way,” he grinned, waiting for her to reach out and snatch up the sword before it hit the ground. She didn’t.

The sword fell heavy in the grass by her feet and for a moment he couldn’t take his eyes off it. An icy silence filled the air, stilling the moment until he lifted his gaze. She stood frozen, panting, her eyes wide and panicked as she stared at the blade. She blanched a sickening shade beneath her already pale skin and for a moment he feared she’d be sick where she stood. But when she finally looked up, a thin veneer of control settled over her features and only a slight shaking of her fingers betrayed her as she calmly brushed past him without a word and made for her grandparents’ home. Mordred turned, his eyes following her, as did everyone else, locked in a stunned silence until a roar split the air behind them.

“You filthy son of a whore!” Treyen bellowed, his face dark and contorted with hate as he all but flew to the practice pitch. A few brave men stepped in the vampyre path to slow their prince’s progress but he barreled through them, careless of their pleas to wait, to hear, to think before he did something unforgivable. Only the swift arrival of the king’s guard halted Treyen a few feet from Mordred’s stunned self. The prince strained to get past, but the guards held firm. “YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’VE DONE!”

“I…I’m sorry, I just…” Mordred fumbled, guilt plowed into him, souring his stomach and nearly knocked him to his knees. What had he done?! The realization nearly choked him: the ease between then, their friendship, that strange warmth…it was ruined, just as he ruined everything. The world tilted sickening.

“Why are you still here?!” Treyen spat, no longer fighting for freedom, but dangerously still. “Why are you still here?!”

Image From Google.

Image From Google.

Movie Quotes And Disney Lyrics

When I read the daily prompt this morning my lovelies, I knew this was one I had to do: Tell us the origin story of your best friend. How did you become friends? What is it that keeps your friendship rockin’ after all these years? I’ve told this story a million times over the years but never here on my blog, and since I mention my bestie so much, I figure it’s only right to tell y’all the story as well!

Here we are near the end of my Senior year in high school at the Serendipity book release, an anthology we were both published in and worked on!

Here we are near the end of my Senior year in high school at the Serendipity book release, an anthology we were both published in and both worked on!

My best friend and I met the summer before my Senior (and her Junior) year in high school at the pool in the apartment complex where I (and she) lived. I was taking my younger brother swimming because 1) I LOVE to swim, and 2) there was this stupid rule about how old you had to be to swim at the pool (which we broke all summer because at sixteen years old I apparently could not swim without someone twenty-one watching me but considering I’d been swimming confidently since I was five, I figure this rule was a bit silly, but I digress…). Now I should probably tell you my lovelies, that I’m not the most trusting person in the world and I don’t really take to new people well, I get defensive or stand-offish and usually just ignore everyone that I don’t know. Or rather, I used to. I’m a lot better know, since I was bombarded with new people and new situations when I went to college a few years ago and it was an adapt-or-live like a leper or social pariah for a few years kind of thing and I chose to adapt. But when my bestie and I met, I was still rather anti-social and not at all a fan of new people, especially not new people who wouldn’t take no for an answer, and good grief was she stubborn.

I can’t remember if she was already at the pool when my brother and I arrived or if she got there later, but I do remember thinking “Crap, now I have to deal with her…” So I put on my best Fear-Me look and pointedly would not give her the time of day (other than a few curt replies) although she kept swimming by what I deemed my-side-of-the-pool and asking pesky questions like how old was I? What school did I go to? Have I lived here long? All I could think was WHY DOES SHE NEED TO KNOW THESE THINGS?!!! So with narrowed, blatantly untrusting eyes and a palpable aura of disapproval and distrust I answered her as icily as I could and hoped she was smart enough to take the hint that her inquiries and her presence (if she was going to keep talking that is) were not welcome. It seemed to work…for a moment and my temper began to settle.

Then she began speaking to my little brother.

Who did this little pool stalker think she was?! If I dismissed her then she had no right to speak to my brother (who I later learned already knew my bestie because she baby-sat for some of his friends)! My over-protective big-sister instinct flared to life with righteous indignation, but before I could do or say anything, here she was showing him how to stick his legs out of the pool and lean back underwater until his back touched the wall. THE BITCH WAS TRYING TO DROWN HIM!!! I sprang into action, rushing (as fast as someone can rush when they’re up to their shoulders in water) to save my brother and get him as far away from this nutter as possible, but he resurfaced before I got there and was grinning proudly. “You’ve got to try this Tara, it’s so cool!” he crowed, happy as can be, oblivious to the fact that moments before I’d been on the war-path looking for blood. I stopped and stared first at him, making sure he really was okay, then at her, then back at him. Maybe she hadn’t been trying to drown him after all?

Noticing perhaps, the severe and sudden drop of hostility on my part, my future BFF made her move and struck up a conversation when I was too confused to put her off. I still didn’t fully trust her (that was the weirdest swimming move I’ve ever seen) but she had refrained from drowning my brother and that meant she couldn’t be so bad. I guess. I mean right? So we talked for a while, she happily gabbing away and me thawing out bit by bit until it was time for us to go. We planned to see each other again (a plan I fully didn’t intend to keep) and went our separate ways until I made the mistake of telling my mom about my new “friend” and how I didn’t plan on going over to visit like I promised. Big mistake on my part because mom had me out the door in five minutes flat telling me I better go say hello. Sigh.

And so the awkward friendship continued until after a while it grew into genuine friendship and then into full-blown bestie awesomeness. And now 8 years later we are once-again approaching our friendiversary, a little older, a little wiser, and a lot nicer (on my part at least). Life has taken us for one helluva ride so far in the relative short time we’ve known one-another, but still our friendship remains strong. We lasted through the separation of moves, college (and me crying on the phone for an hour telling her how much I wanted to come home because I didn’t like all the new-ness), the addition of family members, deaths, divorces (my parents’), living together (which was better in theory because we never actually fought until we lived together, though I think if anything, it strengthened our friendship), distance, and time. We went for months (amicably) not talking because I’m always reluctant to actually call people and life was a bit rough, but I could only go so long before I needed my bestie.

Time and time again she has been there for me, always with a cheeky comment or just the right thing to say, even if we only speak in movie-quotes or Disney lyrics. I can say the weirdest things to her and know that she understands what I mean and vice-versa, I don’t have to be prim or grim, I can be goofy and outrageous.  And for someone, who by choice, does not have that many close friends, it’s nice to know that I have one person outside of family who truly gets me and who truly cares.

Our friendship isn’t perfect, we have our ups and downs but no matter what, we fight though and I think that’s why we’re pretty freaking awesome, because I won’t fight for just any friendship, I’ve let other dissipate and fade away, but I can’t imagine my life without my bestie. She’s worth fighting for, even if she is a pool stalker 😀

I had just proclaimed myself a "Pretty Peacock"...that's what no sleep and too much sugar will do! I could only ever be this goofy with my bestie!

I had just proclaimed myself a “Pretty Peacock”…that’s what no sleep and too much sugar will do! I could only ever be this goofy with my bestie!

(And P.S.  my bestie is also on WordPress: BecomingEllipsisMark ) Go check her out, she’s got some great poetry!

Weekly Photo Challenge: Treasure

My treasure is:

The cutest bundle of love!

The cutest bundle of love!

IMG_0038

Just look at that face…

Worn out from his first visit to FSU!

Worn out from his first visit to FSU!

Someone was a bit too adventurous at the beach!

Someone was a bit too adventurous at the beach!

My treasure with his treasure -- which he stole from me thinking he was sly, but I totally saw him sneak it out of my room!

My treasure with his treasure — which he stole from me thinking he was sly, but I totally saw him sneak it out of my room!

And finally, my treasure with his bestie (my other treasure)!

And finally, my treasure with his bestie (my other treasure)!