If I don't see you anymore

This time, This place
Misused, Mistakes
Too long, Too late
Who was I to make you wait
Just one chance
Just one breath
Just in case there's just one left
'Cause you know,
you know, you know

That I love you
I have loved you all along
And I miss you
Been far away for far too long
I keep dreaming you'll be with me
and you'll never go
Stop breathing if
I don't see you anymore

~Nickelback

Well it's a good thing...

....I didn't sign up for the NaPoBlo...whatever. The blog month thingie. I'd have failed at it as well.

NaNo has become a complete bust, and I'm sad about that. I had such great expectations for it and I feel as if I failed. My head and heart just blanked out this year. But the weight of my world and the weight of depression has rained down hard on me for the last ohhhh....year and I just couldn't shake my funk most days of this month to find a spark of creativity. All my thoughts just flitted away when I'd try to write and I'd grow distressed.

For those in this world who don't believe depression is a real thing, I wish you could walk a day in my head. I am my own worst enemy.

There is so little in my life that I'm HAPPY about. I want to have time to do this or that but when I have the time, I don't have the energy or will to. I barely function on a work/sleep/work/sleep sort of schedule. I spend a lot of time hiding out. People in general get on my last nerve and I rarely want to be around them. Then I start worrying about them wanting to be around me, because I isolate.

It's all a cruel cycle. I started on meds, so far...not much effect. I ran my stress levels high enough that it effected my heart, but I can't seem to fix it. Or to find the motivation to even try. I live in an active fantasy world. My real world has been down around my feet in crumbles for sometime now. Everytime I get my house of cards started it topples again.

And I'll leave this life behind me

Prison gates won't open up for me
On these hands and knees I'm crawlin'
Oh, I reach for you
Well I'm terrified of these four walls
These iron bars can't hold my soul in
All I need is you
Come please I'm callin'
And oh I scream for you
Hurry I'm fallin', I'm fallin'

Show me what it's like
To be the last one standing
And teach me wrong from right
And I'll show you what I can be
Say it for me
Say it to me
And I'll leave this life behind me
Say it if it's worth saving me

Heaven's gates won't open up for me
With these broken wings I'm fallin'
And all I see is you
These city walls ain't got no love for me
I'm on the ledge of the eighteenth story
And oh I scream for you
Come please I'm callin'
And all I need from you
Hurry I'm fallin', I'm fallin'



Hurry I'm fallin'

All I need is you
Come please I'm callin'
And oh, I scream for you
Hurry I'm fallin', I'm fallin', I'm fallin'


Hurry I'm fallin'

~Savin' me by Nickleback

16884 words

I'm way way behind...but I'm still plugging at it.

I'm working on a book of prompts called "Writing the breakout novel."

Other than that, not much to say. I have a nasty cold or the flu and have run a fever pretty much all day.

So...here's a snippet:


Rozenn peered out the window of her third story apartment, her arms folded across her chest. She was tall, framed by the window, moonlight casting an eerie glow to her pale skin, her hair glinting in shades of flame and fire down the small of her back. She was dressed in nothing but the light and air that swirled around her. Unconcerned by who might be looking up, she peered down to the street below, worry marring the perfect lines of her classic face.

Behind her the man on the bed stirred, groaning in groggy slumber. He would wake ravenous, aching and starved for something he wouldn't understand. He would change, his ideals and morals would be replaced by the ravenous need to feed. He would find that he could no longer enjoy the light of the day, his skin would loose it's sun bronzed luster and he would hide behind thick drapes, coming out only when the light of the moon kissed his eyes.

She glanced back at him with an amused smirk, feeling no concern for the life she'd thrust him into, all for the gratification of a few hours need. He'd amused her. Arrogant and bold, the sort of swaggering John Doe who fancied himself the Gods gift to women. The sort of man who spent an hour on his hair before going out. The sort of man whose money and schooling bought him power and prestige but not infamy.

No. Not infamy. She'd given him that. He would become more powerful than he'd ever thought possible. At least by the standards of humans. In her world, he was her slave.

Damien De Simone pushed the door open and stepped into the room, casting a bemused glance at the man sprawled out on the bed. Kicking aside the clothes that had been cast carelessly he walked across the room silently and slipped his arms around Ginger's waist, drawing her back against him and brushing his lips across her temple. “Amused my pet?” He chuckled softly, finding her lips for a moment when she turned her head back, to meet his mouth. “Was he tasty?”

“Mmm.” she nodded, turning her body around and sliding her arms around Damien, her hand rubbing over his wide shoulders. He stood a good foot taller than her already tall height. Blond hair cropped close and a care worn look about his face and eyes, that added life to his tall pale figure. He was beautiful. Darkly beautiful, if you knew his true nature. She tipped up on her toes and let her tongue run over the line of his jaw up to his ear, placing soft kisses there meant to send shivers down his body.

“He amused me, Damien. Nothing more.”

Damien chuckled darkly his eyes glittering with a blue silvery light. “Did he indeed? Perhaps you are bored with me then, my love?”

“I could never bore of you. But I need to feed. You didn't seem to worry over the little blonde tart you brought home with you.” She grinned lightly and placed a playful kiss on the tip of his nose before pulling away from him. Pulling a silky black robe off the back of her chair she wrapped it around her, tying the belt around her slender waist. The black set off the pale, making her hair glow with a fierce red against it. It suited her and it was the color she preferred to any other.

He wore blues, pale and soft blues that lead to an air of seeming gentleness. And artistic timidity that lured his prey right into his trap. He had not qualms about his darkness, but wore is internally. Rozenn was the only one who was privy to it's depths. She fed off of it and together they'd risen to power, ruling together over the De Simone sect of vampires. Each of their servants were made. Created by those like them who had only a faint trace of pure blood within their veins.
And servants they were. Slaves to Damien and Rozenn, owing their very lives to them, their livelyhood bent on maintaining the sects extravagant expenses. Rozenn had insisted on their choosing only those of financial means in their human lives, and it had afforded them a mass of wealth, allowing them to feed and cloth and house their 400+ members in decadence. It kept them blindly loyal to the sect, making seeking a life on their own a daunting challenge that few attempted.

And those who did....

Damien's insistence was on absolute control of the Sect, in all things. He tolerated no insubordination and only let those that he absolutely trusted into the inner circle. And that sometimes took decades to prove. Now two dozen men and women ran the affairs of their clan, keeping tabs on all of the members, their movements and loyalties. Most of it was monitored over the internet but each member was marked with a tracking device, implanted at the first bite.

Now Damien glanced back at the man on the bed with quiet curiosity. This man would never again seen the insides of this house, or these chambers. He'd be taken by one of the lower members to be mentored and trained. He'd be indoctorined in pain. Taught to be unfailingly loyal to the clan. He would never doubt what it was that kept him alive.

Rozenn poured two goblets of wine from a crystal flask that set on the table by the window. Handing one to Damien she lowered herself into a chair, crossing long pale legs and leaning back in a pose of practiced seduction. Damien wasn't immune to it but he sat as well, playing her game, a game he'd grown to enjoy so well. “What was his name?”

“Seth?” She frowned and pulled a dozier out from her brief case, glancing over it quickly. “Seth Blyton. He owns a software company in Silicone valley and came here on vacation. No wife. No children. Do not fret Damien..I pick my play toys with care. He will serve us well.”

“No doubt, my love. No doubt. Shall I have the filth removed?” He tipped the corners of his mouth up in a grin, his blue eyes hard.

Rozenn nodded and waved her hand absently, pressing a button seated under the table. Without a word two men of startling build entered into the chamber, silently moving towards the bed to drag the groggy, naked man from it, dragging him with strong hands under each arm. He would begin his indoctrination. Rozenn nodded at each of her guards silently and they returned the gesture, knowing what needed to be done.

“Now, my love...” She turned back towards Damien, tracing a blood red nail over the back of his hand, pricking a little line of blood. She grasped his hand between hers and brought it up to her lips, pressing a kiss there and sucking for just a moment, shivering as his blood flooded her mouth. He cupped her cheek with his other hand, letting her feed, brushing aside long strands of red hair and tucking them behind her ears. She pulled back, licking a line of blood off the corner of her lip and running her tongue over the wound to close it. “Now..what have you to tell me of the whore?”

“Ah. I was afraid you had forgotten our task in all your playing.” he teased gently, drawing her in to kiss her deeply, the taste of his own blood still ripe on her lips. “We've learned little more in the past twenty four hours.”

“No? But she is here?” Rozenn settled back against the chair, her watery green eyes growing brighter, a trick that would frighten most mortals, but Damien was unafraid.

“Aye, my love. She is indeed hear. Protected by a her band of guards, half breeds and elves. Foul beasts.” he wrinkled his nose up in obvious scorn.

“Beasts..” Rozenn nodded, letting the word roll off her tongue as if it tasted foul. “But remember, love, these beasts will be key in helping us get to her.”

“Ah yes. So you are determined then to honor your alliance with..them.” he hesitated over the last word, his nose wrinkling up a bit and he took a quick sip of his drink, trying to wash the filth from his lips.

“Yes.” her eyes flared darkly. He recognized the danger in them and nodded, not pressing the matter further.

“The whore sleeps surrounded by her guard. Not to be woken until they deem the time appropriate.” He shifted the topic gently back around, slipping his hand over Rozenn's and tugging it up to his lips to press a kiss to her pulse there.

“And her consorts?” The question was terse as she pulled her hand back, toying with the rim of her glass with the tip of her finger, painted blood red.

“They sleep as well.”

“Mmmm. Then the time to move is soon. Summon the Lycan to me. I wish to have words with him.”

“Here?” Damien didn't attempt to hide the contempt in his voice.

“Yes. Here.” she stood, her eyes flaring again, burning to bright green. The robe swirled down to the floor as she flung it off, moving to the bureau and throwing open the door. “Do not question my intent, lover, or my methods. We need the lycan to feel welcomed, invited. We need him to feel like we need him..” as she spoke she tossed garments carelessly from the dresser, letting them land where they may. Items of blacks and grays, lace and leathers and blood red velvets littering the floor of her bedroom. Finally she pulled out a skirt of lace and sheer muslin in black, a boned corset lined in red velvet and trimmed in lace. She pullled out fish nets, boots and a pair of skimpy thong underwear and slowly began to dress.

“I understand.” Damien muttered, watching as the panties slid up her long, pale thighs, momentarily distracted by the skin there. “But do you really want that..filth in our home? Our sanctuary?”

She didn't turn, tugging on fishnet stockings and the corset, tugging at the laces in silence as she let the weight of his question hang in the room. “I want to be rid of all questions of power.” Her voice was soft, deceptively so and it sent a chill through Damien. He knew the depths of her ambition but was startled at the depths she was going to in order to achieve their goals. Consorting with Lycans. Foul beasts.

“Then I will have him sent for.”

Stagnation

It kinda sucks to realize another year has gone by and you're really not much better off than you were the year before.

Why is it, I can't make what I want from my life work? I'm almost thirty and it feels like I've stalled at 22. Indecisive. Locked into a dream that isn't going to happen, but clinging to the hopes that it will, that maybe just maybe everything that has happened in the past four years has all be a joke and that everything will be okay.

And yet...were they four wasted years? Maybe. Or maybe that love and life I dreamed of really will come to pass and I won't wake up tommorow alone, in a place I don't want to be and in a state of existance I don't enjoy.

Blah.

I'm at 12351 words. I wanted to be further but I had to sleep yesterday and run a whole bunch of errands for my mother. I'd hoped to play a little as well with Hipp the day before but once again..sleeping and errands got the better of me. My mother had a nasty asthma attack. I had to play nurse. I get fucking tired of that sometimes, especially when I'm home and just want to turn my brain off. But then I get a tirade of "What do you think this means or why does it do that..."

Go fucking ask your Doctor. I don't know everything.

One of these days I'm going to reply with "Yes I think it's cancerous. You should get it amputated immediately."

Or not. I wouldn't do that really, but I do get tired of it. I'm just generally tired of my entired living arrangements. But hell....better than being homeless.

Like last year at this time.

So I guess I'm a scosh better off than the year previously.....

Winter

Snow can wait
I forgot my mittens
Wipe my nose
Get my new boots on
I get a little warm in my heart
When I think of winter
I put my hand in my father's glove
I run off
Where the drifts get deeper
Sleeping beauty trips me with a frown
I hear a voice
"Your must learn to stand up for yourself
Cause I can't always be around"
He says
When you gonna make up your mind
When you gonna love you as much as I do
When you gonna make up your mind
Cause things are gonna change so fast
All the white horses are still in bed
I tell you that I'll always want you near
You say that things change my dear

Boys get discovered as winter melts
Flowers competing for the sun
Years go by and I'm here still waiting Withering where some snowman was
Mirror mirror where's the crystal palace
But I only can see the myself
Skating around the truth who I am
But I know dad the ice is getting thin

When you gonna make up your mind
When you gonna love you as much as I do
When you gonna make up your mind
Cause things are gonna change so fast
All the white horses are still in bed
I tell you that I'll always want you near
You say that things change my dear

Hair is grey
And the fires are burning
So many dreams
On the shelf
You say I wanted you to be proud of me
I always wanted that myself

He says
When you gonna make up your mind
When you gonna love you as much as I do
When you gonna make up your mind
Cause things are gonna change so fast
All the white horses have gone ahead
I tell you that I'll always want you near
You say that things change
My dear

Again...I've entered a sort of dark melancholic mood, spurred on by another nasty headache, a rough night at work, and missing my girlfriend yesterday. We had arranged to meet and it just fell through, one of those things that really just happen. Not the end of the world and yet I feel...sad.

The weather here has turned frosty and cold. We've had a smattering of cold and the nights are still and silent. All throug the summer when I roamed the hospital grounds a slew of rabbits would greet me, scurrying to and 'fro between buildings as I walked the paths. Now, there's nothing but the cold still of frost and crunchy grass. And the sight of my breath. It's not often I get to take these two am strolls. Usually I'm hopping busy running my own unit, but from time to time I need something, some linens, some paperwork, a med we don't have...and those times I get to get off the unit. (Our hospital is a collection of seperate buildings. Very pretty but HELL when you have to RUN from one to the other during codes.)

I've had a horrible headache for the past several days. I haven't gotten much writing done, which kinda sucks. I haven't opened photoshop since the month started. I have all these things I WANT to do and not enough time to do them.

And I'm not sleeping well again. Which isn't new.

I know this was sort of a whiney, pensive post. And for those who suffered through it...Well...you're good friends!

Snippet for today 11229 on day 9

“Lilliane...” He stepped out from a doorway to the side. Polished leather shoes that ascended to fitted black braes of some unknown material soft material. A tunic that had strange round closings going up the front of soft purple material. The face was unchanged despite the strange attire. A scruffy jawline, strong arrogant nose, eyes of amber.

“Conri..” she croaked softly, curled with her legs to the side at the bottom of the stairs. “Conri..” she repeated softly, lifting her hand out towards him, a sob threatening to escape as she did, suddenly overwhelmed by fear at finding him and not Gabriel or Tristan. “Help...”

He closed the distance between them in two steps and swept her up against him, tucking her under his chin as he carried her from the foyer into the sitting room of the ancient Victorian style house Niele hand manage to procure for them. Fully furnished with darkly gothic heavy antiques. It was dreary and bordered on morbid in décor and artwork. It worked perfectly for their purpose.

Gently he carried Lilliane's slender body, stopping to lay her down upon a heavy chaise lounge. She looked like a china doll there, so pale with her large pleading eyes. She whimpered softly as he deposited her and her face twisted in pain. “What is it?” she whispered thickly, trying to sit up. He pushed her back with a hushed “no” and bent poured thick red liquid into a crystal goblet next to the chaise.

“Drink this first, my Lady, and then we shall talk.”

Let me lay, down in your arms

And I'm tired from all the weight
I'm tired of being strong
So won't you come and stay
And let me lay down in your arms
Down in your arms

The Anatomy of a Damsel in Distress:

Why is it that my every character ends up with a good element of classic Damsel in Distress? I'm infinately intrigued by this archetypal character. I guess maybe I'm very much writing out what I want...need...in my own life?

Okay. This is silly. Who wants that knight in shining armor to come and make it all better? To carry the weight of all your burdens on his proverbial strong arms and keep you safe, keep you warm, keep you fed? Take away all the hurt and tears and make life full of songs and love and little bright fat children? I do.

Not physically....the reality of me is, I'm very much not into males in real life. They don't meet my expectations. They don't work for me....in other areas either. Not really. I rarely find myself attracted to a member of the opposite sex. Part of it is how very uncomfortable I am around men in general. I feel safer and more comfortable with females in intimate situations (and by intimate I don't even mean just sex...I mean talking as well!)

So why is it in writing I want the proverbial male hero? The warrior/poet/lover?

Because in fantasy the Damsel in Distress always gets her fairy tale ending. There is no pain or death for her or her love.

And in real life....I have to be the strong one. The breadwinner, the single parent, the supportive and loving one who listens and never has "problems" of her own to add to anothers misery. The healer, the problem solver, the fixer, the lap to rock the sobbing child, the ears to listen to the sobbing lover.

I just need to be swept up and held myself. Just for a few hours in my ultra romantic fantastic imagination.

Blah. Nasty headaches have waylaid my ability to be witty OR creative. I'm heading for a nice LONG sleep. But I will leave you, my dear readerly types, with a little somthing.

Song Lyrics for today. This song was sent to me by my girlfriend and thusly...the lyrics break my heart.


Leave out all the Rest
~Linkin Park

I dreamed I was missing
You were so scared
But no one would listen
Cause no one else cared

After my dreaming
I woke with this fear
What am I leaving
When I'm done here

So if you're asking me
I want you to know

[Chorus]
When my time comes
Forget the wrong that I've done
Help me leave behind some
Reasons to be missed

And don't resent me
And when you're feeling empty
Keep me in your memory

Leave out all the rest
Leave out all the rest
[End Chorus]

Don't be afraid
I've taken my beating
I've shared what I made

I'm strong on the surface
Not all the way through
I've never been perfect
But neither have you

So if you're asking me
I want you to know

[Chorus]
When my time comes
Forget the wrong that I've done
Help me leave behind some
Reasons to be missed

Don't resent me
And when you're feeling empty
Keep me in your memory

Leave out all the rest
Leave out all the rest
[End Chorus]

Forgetting
All the hurt inside
You've learned to hide so well

Pretending
Someone else can come and save me from myself
I can't be who you are

[Chorus]
When my time comes
Forget the wrong that I've done
Help me leave behind some
Reasons to be missed

Don't resent me
And when you're feeling empty
Keep me in your memory

Leave out all the rest
Leave out all the rest

Forgetting
All the hurt inside
You've learned to hide so well

Pretending
Someone else can come and save me from myself
I can't be who you are
I can't be who you are

10,088 on day number 6

Well...not to bad! Not to bad at all! I've got PLENTY of plot steam to keep going on!

Where water meets sand meets sky

Snippet #2: (no these do NOT go in order. They're random snippets...)

She stepped out into the dark of night, looking up to find her bearings in the full of the moon. Wrapping her cloak tighter against the chill of the air she turned to head north, moving away from the keep silently. She knew the land, knew each swell and rock that constituted Brogan's lands. Making her way down the bank of rock she headed onto the beach. She'd told him she'd be along the shore and she had no intention of lying. The smell of salt and kelp struck her nose as her feet found the sand as cold as ice and sending shivers down her spine. It was shocking and sent her senses to screaming alertness. Precisely the effect she needed. Stepping closer as her toes adjusted and numbed to the chill she let the creeping fingers of water wash over them, sending a fresh shock of cold through her. Looking up at the sky she judged it to be well past midnight. She glanced back towards the keep, studying the walls. She was reassured by the faint but steady movement of the guards there. It was what kept them all alive and safe in their beds.
She slid her cloak off, folding it over and laying it to the side as she moved along the line of the water, letting it cover her toes and ankles but wading in no deeper. She knew to well the hazards of underestimating the water along these wild shores. Looking up at the sky again she breathed in slow deep breaths. Feeling the sand. Feeling the chill of the air. Feeling the water. Seeing the fires flickering from the castle in the distance, the smoke wafting on the breeze to touch her senses for just a moment.

She was suddenly aware of eyes on her. Whipping around she searched for the source of the feeling with a frown, studying the rocks. She saw him perched, sitting high on the ledge of a cliff that over looked the shore, the slope just on the other side leading directly to the castle. One man alone, hair streaming behind him on the breeze riding off the ocean. Her heart slammed against her chest, her mouth going suddenly dry.

He didn't move, but continued to watch her, framed in the moonlight behind him. He was darkly beautiful there and she felt a catch in her breath, even as she glanced towards the keep at the same time, judging the distance back.

The man rose, a cloak of black billowing behind him. He stepped from the ledge and she let out a cry of terror as he began to fall. His body remaining upright, arms outstretched. It wasn't a hard fall down but more of a float, slow and without the wild twisting of a body ready to strike the earth. He didn't strike the earth. He didn't even make a sound, but rather his feet merely touched the ground, his knees bending down a bit from the continuation of gravity before he straightened and walked forward as if nothing strange had occurred.

Lilliane was frozen in place. The rising tide bringing the water up to kiss the skin of her calves and the backs of her knees as she watched him stalk slowly towards here. There was danger in his movements and yet she couldn't move, could not drag her eyes away from the dark and powerful beauty that commanded every motion.

“It is cold.” he spoke, nearing to her but not stepping into the water. She nodded in dumb fascination, color rising to her cheeks as she began to make out his features. Pale. Thin but well muscled, his face long. Strong jaw covered in a shadow of a beard. Dark eyes. Dark eyes that missed nothing, drinking her in as they locked to hers. “My lady...” he said softly and the air left her in a rush, an explosive exhalation. She felt the pit of her stomach clench. He held out his hand, keeping his eyes to hers and waiting in silent expecation. Waiting for her.

She studied his hand for a moment, standing on a cliff of indecision. Who was this stranger? Surely allowing him to take her hand was harmless enough? Or...was it? A warning fired in her head and she knew instinctively that to take his hand would change her life.

There was no going back.

She slid her hand into his and let him pull her out of the water, onto the sand.

The Musical Miasma of My Mind

Stupid posts.

What is on your play list? Set it to random and list the first ten songs that come up on your music player.

Mine:

Beautiful by HIM
Jillian by Within Temptation
A year from this night by Ceredwin
Cotton Eye Joe by Ricky Skaggs
Eli the Barrow boy by The Decemberists
Delicate by Damien Rice
Be Mine tonight by Blackmore's Night
The Hand that Feeds by NIN
Time and Time Only by Matthew Ryan
Coloured Bedspread by Annie Lennox

8318 on day number 4

It's not a bad start so far. I'm loving my characters and the plot bunnies that are attacking me. Having days off inevitably means little sleep because I try to do more than I should around the house and OL.

So..ready for a snippet? I warn you, it's very rough!


Lilliane was awakened from sleep by the sound of rustling around. Sitting up she drew the sheets over her and blinked into the dark of the room, letting her eyes adjust and startled at how well she could see in the dim lit room. He sat on the edge of her bed, one leg curled up to his chest and fully nude. His body glowed silver in the light of the moon. Muscles were awash in a play of light and shadow. She sat back into the dark shadow away from the window, studying him. He didn't move, keeping his gaze out into night, his thoughts veiled from her. But clearly he was troubled. Hurting, and it stung her. Tucking wild strands of her hair back and slowly reached for him. Leaning forward, she touched his arm. He didn't flinch, aware of her movements. His hand came up over hers and he looked back, his eyes softening as his fingers caressed over hers.

“We will not be gone long, my love.” he said softly and the words struck her low in her gut.

“You're leaving?” the words came out in a whisper, barely audible. “Both...both of you?”

“Aye.” he turned back, his gaze again seeking the moon, a frown tugging at his mouth. She was lost in his mouth for a moment, so full...and her heart clenched in her throat. “It is important, Lilliane.” was all he could say. He could feel the hurt in her, seeping from her hand as she slowly drew it back, tucking it back under the sheet she'd drawn around her like a shell, for protection.

Protection from him.

The irony of that was not lost on him and he pulled himself up to standing, moving over to peer more closely out the window. Motion in the trees surrounding Brogan's keep concerned him and he reached absently for his sword, finding nothing but his bare hip. He glanced back to where his belt lay neatly folded, on the other side of the bed. Her eyes moved towards it as well, then back to him, the full swell of her lower lip trembling softly with unhidden emotion.
Light surrounded his form, once again casting him a glow of silver and the beauty of his body struck her low, spreading out in an aching sting as she recalled the hours earlier, lost his the folds of those arms as they held her to him. Her heart skipped several beats when he moved, reaching instinctively for the sword that was sworn to her protection. The sudden striking blow that he was heading out into uncertainty, and possibly death struck her and she had to choke down the sob that threatened in her throat. Both of them.

Both of them were leaving. Tristan stretched lazily, snoring softly on the couch drawn near to the door, oblivous to the war of emotions that played between her and Gabriel now. He'd be aware soon enough. Her hands shook as she rose, clutching the sheet to her slender body. Gabriel watched her silently, not moving from the window which framed him. An eyebrow lifted as she bent to gather up her chemise, the soft buttery gown she'd been wearing. Slowly she made to tug the soft linen over her head, casting him nervous glances as she did.
His arms were folded across his chest and he stood motionless. Fully nude still and unashamed. Heat rose quickly to her cheeks as she tied the string at her neck, sitting back onto the bed. Both remained silent. He didn't need words to see the nervous upset written in her every motion. Nor did she to see his troubled mind. It was a small comfort to know he did not wish to leave either. But still, it would not keep him at her side, safe within the stone walls of her home.

For she was no longer safe here. None of them were.

She didn't pull the gown on and he sighed, moving finally to sit on the bed next to her. Reaching he tucked a curl back behind her ear, tracing fingers along the shell. His eyes glittered around words unsaid and she let the sob escape her, tipping her head to press it against the wide expanse of his palm.

He gathered her up, dragging her into is lap, his arms coming around her strongly. Hands caressing her hair, her back as he held her. He could not avoid the task appointed to him. It would mean the death of him, his brother and their very soul, the woman now in his arms.

“Conri will not leave you while we are away.” he whispered into her hair and she chocked on a sob, letting her body shudder silently against his. “And we shall return before the first fall of snow.”

They both knew it was a promise he could not make.

A year and a day

I ignored my blog for a year, due in part to my old computer dying just after I posted that last blog! Such is life!

So, another year, another NaNo. It's day 2 and I'm off to a decent start at 5k words in this years Vampish fantasy nontraditional romance. Ah, to have no labels is a wondermous thing!

I'm glad to see I've got some new writing buddies this year!