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While living on the streets, Sarah meets Brady, a handsome and spiritual benefactor. He offers her shelter and an opportunity to escape her past in an idyllic utopia. Is utopia tarnished?
Usually, I’m a short-story sort of Dragon. Shelter is a minor departure for me; it’s thirty-one chapters, plus a prologue and an epilogue. It has been a long time since I ventured into a novel length story. Shelter took weeks to write and nearly as long to edit. We follow Sarah, a self-reliant street urchin who’s been on her own for a very long time. This is her checkered journey, sometimes fraught with peril, as she finds her unique path through life. A word of caution: while it is far from a main theme of this story, there are a couple of chapters where there is violence, sometimes graphic violence. If such descriptions might trigger you as a reader, you might want to proceed with prudence. And yes, there are various descriptions of sex in this story. I am not a particularly graphic writer when it comes to sex, and it may take some chapters to get there, but I promise you, there is sex. Maybe even drugs. Maybe even a rock and roll reference.
I will be posting Shelter to SoL over the following months, one chapter at a time; however, if reading the entire story immediately is important to you, it is available on Bookapy in its entirety. For those who choose to support my writing via Bookapy, the eBook contains significant additional scenes which will be unavailable through the SoL version. These additional scenes are entirely unnecessary to enjoy the book; in fact, the first draft of the story did not include them at all. The additional scenes are my small way of saying thank-you to those who choose to purchase the tome.
As always, I must sincerely thank Pixel for his tireless editing which only makes each work better than it was. Any remaining errors or anachronisms are entirely mine. Thank you also to Munkie for licensing me the eBook cover art.
I also would like to thank everyone who reads any of my stories and especially those who choose to send me a note, comment, review, or even simply to vote. Your attentive eyes and precious time are very much appreciated!
And now, back to my regularly scheduled cicadas and breezes.
I must admit that I love hot summer days. I spend my days eschewing the air conditioning, working and writing on the back deck in the shade, listening to cicadas and birds and sometimes watching deer if they wander onto the sweet grass at the periphery. Summery breezes drift through carrying the scent of day lilies. My resident scavenging chipmunk darts beneath my chair. In the mornings, before the heat invades, I bike along the lakefront to visit the swans, geese and mink.
At the height of summer, Flannery McBride, somewhat of an outcast in a tiny town, wanders through an incessant heat wave. Rebecca Rhodes, the preacher’s daughter, finds an unlikely connection with Flannery despite, or perhaps due to, his colourful past. It’s difficult for me to believe that I wrote Grace Summer fifteen years ago. Days like today, as summer settles into the northern hemisphere, prompted me to (re)post this story. It comes in two parts with a short bittersweet epilogue. Pixel fixed a few minor errors from the original posted text, so the story officially has been updated, but not substantially. I’ll be posting all of Grace Summer this week for those of us who love summertime, friendship and wistful romance.
Seren has been incessantly whispering in my ear for the last month or so. This is what happens when Dragons ignore their Muses for too long.
I realize that I am inconsistent at blogging. As Pixel recently informed me: sometimes I get Seren-napped. I like that term. It has a ring of accuracy. I’ve been focusing on writing new stories instead of blogging, so perhaps I can be forgiven. The result is in heavy editing phase. It is a longer story which I will begin posting shortly as it emerges from editing. There will be an eBook available for those who may be impatient and wish to read the tale in its entirety. As a bonus, I’ve included deleted scenes in the eBook which, while they are not strictly required to understand the main story, provide some exciting and interesting insights into some of the later events occurring behind the scenes.
Having provided my literary updates, I return happily to the cicadas and the breezes and Seren.
Originally, I wrote Cody’s Last Score back in November 2013. Cody’s is a departure for me. It is dark, brooding, violent and unhappy. Worse, there is no redeeming sex in it whatsoever. This is not erotica, or at least not erotica by any definition with which I’m comfortable. I really don’t remember why Seren made me write it at all, although I recall that she was rather insistent as she usually is. Perhaps it was foreshadowing, as it wasn’t long after writing this story that my real life shattered and I decided that a hiatus was in order. I debated not posting Cody’s here at SoL at all, but in the end, I decided that we are all adults here. Even though this story isn’t my normal fare, I wrote it for a reason, whatever that was, and you, as readers, are free to read it or not.
Given the themes, Cody’s has the potential to trigger readers. I’m coding it with caution for a reason. Please read the warning with which I’ll be posting it and pay attention to the story codes. Gentle readers, if you are looking for titillation, this story really shouldn’t be for you; you will be disappointed, or at least I pray you will be. If you think you might be triggered by the themes outlined in the codes, please avoid reading it. I have no wish to inadvertently cause anyone unnecessary pain.
Despite my reservations, I’ll be posting the story later today.
Seren has me busily writing a new medium length story. I feel that I should complete it and edit it in its entirety before posting it here chapter-by-chapter. In the meantime, Pixel the Cat has been gently encouraging me to (re)post some of my previous ASSM musings here on SoL. I really don’t know why I’m hesitant to do that. Bless him, he’s a gentle soul and unfailingly suffers my quirks with nary a complaint. Since it may be a few weeks before the new story finds first draft, I plan to post a few previously ASSM posted Snapshots and perhaps another medium length story. For those that have already read these in the distant past, I apologize. In my defence, at least these have been re-proofed and re-edited and I’d hate to waste more of Pixel’s valuable assistance.
The first should be posted later today: Snapshot #033 – Snowmen, written in December of 2010. Lord, that’s a long time ago, but it somehow doesn’t feel like it to me; it feels like yesterday. As with all snapshots, this is flash fiction. The image takes us back to a time when pristine snow covered the ground and a cold snowman in a red beret kept a warm girl snuggled under covers company; not very spring-like as I look out at the grass growing and listen to the returned grackles chirping.
Seren has me working on a new story. It’s not a happy story, probably not even erotica, although sex will be important to the storyline. Perhaps that is another blog entry one day: is a story with explicit sex equal to erotica? But I digress. Sometimes, I need to leave the keyboard; I need to think. I’ve found lately that the best way to think is to walk outside alone. Seren whispers to me, my mind wanders across the characters, the plot and how everything weaves together. Sometimes, I arrive back at the keyboard, forced to rewrite or adjust, but usually I have a better idea of how to move the characters through.
Usually I’m a fair-weather dragon. I enjoy sunshine on my face. This particular morning, rain drizzled from the sky, and unpredictable gusts of wind would claw at any umbrella. The weather matched Seren’s mood and she wasn’t to be denied. After six kilometres, my head remained dry, but the rest of me: soaked to the skin, especially my feet. There is nothing quite like the sensation of bliss when stepping from a steady light rain into a warm inviting abode, peeling soaked runners and socks from one’s toes and settling under a blanket to write.
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