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Destiny: Divinity’s Finale, Chapter 4

by Unknown's avatar

IV

 

The cart had been travelling for over an hour and despite the bumpy ride, Melisande had managed to fall asleep in the back. She was roused when she realized that the cart was slowing down. The sounds of activity all around her were a good indication that she’d arrived in Granville. She raised her head and smiled when she realized that her trip was over. Now she needed to figure out how to get aboard a ship.

The cart passed through the market and was heading for the docks. She looked in front of her as the buildings parted to reveal tall masts and open ocean. This was where Melisande wanted to be. Quietly, she hopped off the back of the cart and went to take a closer look at the ship.

Upon examining her surroundings, Melisande saw several ships with men lining up to sign on. She walked over to one of the ships. A man was sitting at a small desk signing crew on.

He looked at her sternly, “This ain’t no place for womenfolk, move along.”

Hurt, Melisande turned her back to the ship without replying, and walked away. Looking at her clothing, she realized that there was no way she would be able to sign on as long as she looked like a castle maid. It was obvious that she would need to diguise herself as a boy.

Without another thought, Melisande turned and headed for the marketplace. Finding what she needed was easy enough with so many places to shop. She went from stand to stand looking for the right tunic and some trousers, but none seemed to suit her. Finally, as she was about to give up, she found what she was looking for at the last stand at the end of the road.

The shopkeeper was an older man who eyed her suspiciously, “You want to buy these clothes?”

Melisande looked at him nervously, “Yes sir, if that is ok. They are for my… husband.”

“Indeed…” The man said quietly, “and where is your husband?”

She began to sweat as she tried to come up with a credible story, “He’s… he’s at sea… he should be home at any day now.”

“This is how it always is.” She said, trying to be casual. “Every time he comes home, his clothes are always torn to shreds. I can’t have him looking like a beggar, you know?”

The shopkeeper narrowed his eyes, “Odd… I haven’t seen any reports of a ship coming in… lots going out, but not one coming in.”

The whole thing sounded suspicious, but he was a shopkeeper, not the local constable, “Oh well. Do you have enough money?”

Melisande pulled a small sack of coins from her dress and handed it to him. He opened it and looked in, “You’re a little short… but it’s ok, I’ll accept this for questioning you.”

She smiled and curtseyed, “Thank you sir.”

She took the clothes and backed away, looking for a place to change. Privacy was in short supply in this town, but she would not give up.

At the other end of the market stood an old tavern which was a favorite hangout for sailors that had just returned to port. Anytime a ship arrived, there was always a party and the doors would remain open all hours of the night. It seemed like a fairly rough spot and not suitable for her to change.

As Melisande walked by, the door to the tavern flew open and a man fell through them. He landed hard on his side on the dirt path. He was followed by a crowd that was led by a much larger man wearing an apron. The large man stood in front of him with a sneer, “Don’t be showing your face around here again!”

“Aw come on innkeep!” The man replied slyly, “I was just enjoying a drink! She came on to me. What’s the harm in me coming around and enjoying the local spirits?”

As though answering his question, eight swords suddenly appeared, pointed at his throat. The young man looked the mob that was now poised to strike and his lips twisted, “All right, you’ve made your point. Not a good idea.”

The men put their swords away and headed back into the tavern. As the innkeeper followed and closed the door, he called back to the young man, “Oh, and if I see you anywhere near my daughter again, I’ll fix you in a way to make you fit for the choir!”

Hearty laughs came from inside the tavern as the large man slammed the door. The smaller man stood up, brushed himself off, and straightened up his short black hair. He smiled and called back, “I’d still be more of a man than you!”

The young man laughed as he began to stumble down the street. He tried his best to steady himself as he continued, but he stumbled over a stone and fell forward. The man closed his eyes, certain he was about to hit the ground again, but instead felt pressure on his shoulders, holding him up. When his eyes opened, he saw Melisande holding on to him, “Are you okay?”

The man rubbed his eyes and looked at her again, “I beg your pardon?”

She looked at him oddly, “Are you okay? You’re stumbling all over the place and you reek of booze!”

Snap out of it man! He thought to himself as he straightened up, “My apologies miss. I seem to have had a bad string of luck lately.”

He smiled as he looked her over, “Until now, that is.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” she replied.

The man brushed off his white tunic, straightened up the large golden medallion the rested on his partially bare chest, and stood up straight, “Allow me to introduce myself properly. I am Captain Baltazar de la Fuente, at your service ma’am. May I have the honor of your name?”

Melisande immediately noticed that his eyes were not on her face, “You may have the honor of my fist in your mouth if you don’t redirect your gaze.”

Baltazar shook his head and bowed, “My sincerest apologies, my fair lady. It is hard to keep one’s eyes focused on but a single aspect of such a work of art.”

At hearing his words, her eyes went fluttery, “You… you see me as a work of art?”

“Aye,” He replied drunkenly, “indeed the great painters of the church, including the mind of Leonardo Da Vinci could not have envisioned such perfection.”

“Leonardo Da Vinci…” She repeated in a whisper. “I have heard of him and read of his works.”

She forced a half smile as she moved closer to him, “Answer me something honestly my noble Baltazar…”

“Anything m’lady,” he replied in a sensual tone.

The blushing look on her face quickly turned to a cross between malice and deviousness, “How many women were fools enough to believe a single word of that flattery?”

Baltazar was caught off guard and his expression turned to one of shock. He struggled to regain his composure as he organized a retort, “It… matters not how many women I have said such things to, what matters is the sincerity with which I say it now.”

“And you’re badly lacking in any.” She replied with a snort. “Out of my way, I have no time for ruffians.”

Melisande pushed past Baltazar and made her way back to the docks. Baltazar watched her from behind. Well now, she certainly has spirit. He then took a moment as he examined her appearance before she turned away. She’s an unusual one… those eyes are unlike any other I’ve seen…

Once she was away from Baltazar, Melisande decided to try a shortcut through a large alley. She could see the masts of ships on the other side and quickly made her way through. She was a few feet away from the docks when two men appeared in front of her, “Well well, what have we here?”

Melisande didn’t give them a second thought, “Excuse me, please. I need to get to the docks.”

The taller man pushed her back, “What would a woman like you want on the docks? I better check your bags.”

Melisande backed off and tried to leave the alley the other way, only to see it blocked by two more men, “Let me be, I have nothing of any value to you!”

The leader looked her over, “Is that so? I think you have a few things of value, what do you think boys?”

The other three snickered as they closed in on Melisande. She began to breathe heavily as she dropped her bag and pulled the two swords out of her blanket. With one in each hand, she pointed them in both directions at the gang, “I know how to use these, back off!”

The swords looked tarnished and her quivering hands were not helping her case. The group scoffed and continued to move in. The leader kept his eyes on her, “Come on boys, let’s see what she has to offer.”

Suddenly, another voice appeared behind them, “What’s the matter Jaspart, roughing up local merchants becoming too tough for you?”

The leader looked up, “This doesn’t concern you La Fuente, isn’t there some merchant’s daughter you should be defiling?”

Baltazar laughed, “Yeah, but I only gamble my money, not certain parts of me. The price proved to be a little high. Anyway, you heard the lady, she said back off.”

“Really,” Jaspart replied, “I don’t think I have to back off… in fact, I appear to have three swords that agree with me on that, don’t ya boys?”

“4 swords against one?” Baltazar said with a frown. “Almost seems a little unfair!”

As the first gang member, a fat man named Grard, drew his sword, Baltazar grabbed his own and sliced the air. His sword clashed with Grard’s, while a second man, Allart came up behind him. As Baltazar dueled, he watched Allart out of the corner of his eye.

Once his attacker got close enough, Baltazar used his impressive speed and brought his leg back hard. His foot impacted against the Allart’s stomach, causing him to wheeze and fall to the ground. Then he forced Grard’s sword away with his own, balled a fist, and struck right on the bridge of Grard’s nose.

The man dropped his sword and cupped his hands over his face as he fell to the ground. The third man who had been standing next to Jaspart flinched and then ran as fast as he could in the other direction. Jaspart called after him, “Coward!”

Baltazar shrugged, “Almost unfair.”

Jaspart sneered, “This isn’t over La Fuente!”

“So you keep saying, old friend,” Baltazar called as he ran away, “but you just never learn, you should hire better men!”

Once they were gone, Baltazar grabbed Melisande’s bag and brushed it off. He then turned and handed it to her, “My apologies miss. Some of the locals around here are a bit rough around the edges.”

Melisande lowered her swords, “Thank you for your help good sir, though I am sure that I could have handled things.”

Baltazar smiled, “Of that, I have no doubt, even with such poorly kept swords. In truth I was going to let you handle it yourself, but then I thought, ‘What kind of a man would I be if I let you do all the work?’ So I figured I’d do at least one good deed today.”

“I see.” Melisande chuckled softly as she turned to keep moving. “Well thank you again.”

Baltazar nodded, “You’re welcome miss… um…”

“Melisande.” She replied. “My name is Melisande.”

“A beautiful name for one so fair!” Baltazar said with a bow. “Do you live around here? May I have the honor of escorting you home?”

“I would like that very much.” Melisande said politely.

“Very well then,” Baltazar replied, “which w…”

“Unfortunately,” Melisande interrupted as the devious grin once again appeared on her face, “I don’t live anywhere around here. So it looks like you’re going to have to escort yourself home.”

Melisande brushed passed Baltazar with a giggle, leaving him standing in the alley with a sheepish grin on his face, “It would appear that this rose has thorns…”

Baltazar watched Melisande until she disappeared from view. She turned a corner and hid behind a stack of barrels. After making sure that she was completely out of sight, she stripped off her dress and threw on the clothes that she had just purchased.

Realizing that her face was still a giveaway to her gender, she rubbed some dirt on her cheeks and slightly narrowed her eyes. Among the clothes she had purchased was a vest that helped hide her chest once she buttoned it. Finally, she stood up and looked herself over. She could now easily pass for a boy, or so she thought. A gust of wind blew her golden blonde hair into her face.

Melisande knew that other sailors had longer hair, but not like hers. She took care of her hair and made sure it shined brightly. She could never get it past anyone.

Knowing what had to be done, Melisande grabbed one of her swords and pulled her hair back. At that moment, she hesitated. What was she doing? Did she really want to alter her appearance this much?

I’ve come this far. She thought to herself with a deep sigh. If I really want this, I’ll need to go all the way…

With one quick pull, Melisande felt a ripping sensation as her hair came loose. She looked at the long locks in her hand as the remaining hair on her head barely touched her shoulders. She dropped the severed hair and allowed the wind to carry it away. She was now ready to go.

Unfortunately it looked as though Melisande had taken too long. All of the ships that were hiring had closed up shop and weren’t taking on anyone else. She let out another deep sigh and started walking down the dock towards the town, hoping to find some place to rest for the night. She passed by several ships, none of whom still had a desk out in front of them.

As she continued walking, she noticed a peculiar looking ship at the end of the dock. It was in the process of being repainted dark blue and flew no flag. The name on the back was painted in gold and shined in the setting sun.

On the deck, Melisande could hear two men yelling at each other. She couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, but she picked out the words ‘deserters’ and ‘short-handed.’ As she made her way by the dock, a sailor on board looked over the side and yelled to her, “You there, boy!”

She turned back and looked up at the person who had called to her, “Me, sir?”

“Aye.” He replied. “Ye look like a lad looking for work.”

Melisande nodded as she tried to adjust her speech to sound more like an experienced sailor, “Aye, but it looks like everyone’s already signed up enough hands.”

The sailor smiled, “Well, ye think ye got what it takes to sail on the famous Specter?”

Melisande looked over the small ship. The Specter had a single square rigged mast which was followed by a smaller mast that carried a large lanteen sail. It was smaller than most caravels that Melisande had read about and the ship’s actual design was unknown to her, “Famous huh, what’s the pay like?”

“Ye’d start out a cabin boy.” He replied. “So ye would get a half a share of whatever we bring in.”

There’s almost no difference between a cabin boy and what I do at the abbey… She thought to herself. Still, you have to start somewhere.

Having made her decision, Melisande looked up at the sailor, “Where do I sign up?”

The sailor smiled as he beckoned her aboard, “Haha, that’s the spirit! Come meet the first mate.”

Without another thought, Melisande ran to the walkway and jumped aboard the Specter. She was surprised to see just how heavily armed the ship was. Large cannons lined the deck, making the walkway somewhat cramped. These were in addition to the standard armament on the lower gun deck. Other than that, there was nothing special about this ship. It was small, cramped, and looked like it was over-manned for its size. The aft cabin had three large, lead-plated windows, but that was the only decor on the aft castle.

“She be a simple ship, but she serves her purpose.”

Melisande jumped at the voice that appeared behind her. She turned to see the first officer standing right over her. He was a very tall man with a gray beard and dark eyes. His hair was almost gone and he wore a large hat to cover it. He smiled with every green tooth he still had, “Apologies, lad, my name is Melchior, I be the first officer on the Specter. I understand ye be looking to sign on with us?”

Melisande mustered up what courage she could, “Aye, sir.”

Melchior smiled, “Argh, what be your name?”

“Mel…” She stopped in the middle of her name. She couldn’t very well give her real name or they would know right away what she was. Could she get away with that, or would she need to think of something quick.

Melchior looked at her oddly, “Mel… that be an odd name. Be that short for something?”

She shook her head, “No sir, it’s just Mel sir.”

Melchior smiled guided her over to a table seated in front of the helm. On it was a book and quill. Melchior pointed to it, “All right then Mel, make your mark.”

Melisande picked up the quill and signed her name. Melchior’s eyes narrowed, “You know how to write too. This be quite interesting.”

“My mother insisted I learn.” She replied. “I can’t figure out why.”

“Perhaps she thought it best ye be educated.” Melchior replied. “It be a better way to live then not knowing if something ye be signing be false.”

Once Melisande was done with the book, Melchior closed it and put it away, “Welcome aboard the Specter, lad.”

She nodded, “Thanks, so tell me, who is captain here?”

“Aye.” Melchior replied. “He be the bravest man I ever did sail with. I expect he be back any time. He be a real whirlwind of passion and ferocity. Ye best not cross his path.”

Melisande smiled, “Got it, this should be fun.”

Melchior shrugged, “Aye lad, if ye say so. I reckon ye be wanting to get started. Stow yer gear and make for the galley, the ship’s cook will be waiting for ye. Lively now!”

Melisande stood at attention and saluted, “Aye aye sir.”

She quickly disappeared below deck, found her bunk, and then made her way to galley. She passed through the small walkway illuminated by lanterns. The wood creaked under her feet as she stepped. Finally, she made it to the galley. This area was well lit and even had hot stove with a vent running through to the deck.

The cook had his back turned to her as she entered the small room. He was working hard on the crew’s supper. Upon hearing movement, he turned around to see who had entered his galley.

Melisande shrieked at seeing his face, “Papi?”

The startled cook looked strangely at Melisande, “Boy, why are you shouting like that? You could have gotten yourself shot!”

He then stopped in his tracks, “Wait… what did you call me, Papi?”

A terrified look came over his face as he realized who he was dealing with. He walked closer to her, grabbed a wet rag from the counter and put his hand to her face. Before she could back away or protest, he wiped away the dirt, “Only one person knows me by that name…”

As Papi wiped her face, his eyes went wide, “Melisande? So this is where you ran off to! I thought maybe you had gone exploring and that Sister Mary was overreacting per the norm but… What are you doing on this ship?”

“I might ask you the same question.” She replied. “I remember you disappearing for months at a time throughout my life, is this where you went?”

“I’m asking the questions here Messy!” He fired back, “This is no place for you! These people are pirates!”

Melisande stepped backwards, “A… a pirate vessel?”

“Yes,” Papi replied with a sheepish look, “I sign on as the ships cook every now and then when I need more money to keep my Inn open.”

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing, “So all these years, you’ve been a pirate.”

“I’ve been a cook on merchant ships too,” he admitted, “but this is the only one I’ve truly enjoyed serving on.”

“I see…” She replied. “So what now?”

Papi shook his head, “Now we’re getting you off of this ship and back to the abbey!”

“No!” Melisande protested adamantly, “I’m staying right here. I can’t go back to the abbey. I am tired of that life. I snuck out early this morning and went for a walk. When I looked back, I couldn’t stand the thought of returning to that cage. I need to get my life started before I rot away behind those walls!”

“This is not the place for you to get started.” Papi insisted. “If the crew finds out who you really are, I don’t know what they’ll do!”

“They won’t find out.” She replied smiling. “Look at me, you barely even knew who I was.”

Papi looked her over and sighed, “This isn’t a game, Messy! You are in real danger here. I’m taking you back. There is no other choice.”

She took a step backwards, “No, no you’re not. If you even try it, I’ll inform the local authorities of what you really are. I’ll then do the same with the abbey.”

Papi’s mouth dropped open, “Messy… after all these years… I was good to you and did my best to make you happy when I was at the abbey. After all that, you’re blackmailing me? You’d really turn me over to be hanged?”

“I won’t,” she replied, “and I don’t want to, but now you can see just how despirate I am. I can’t go back. I’ll die if I have to remain trapped behind those walls. No matter what, you’ll have to kill me to send me back.”

“Messy…” Papi said in a disappointed voice. “You’ve changed. I never thought you’d go this far.”

Melisande frowned as tears entered her eyes, “I’m sorry Papi. I don’t mean to hurt you and I hope you can forgive me, but I was suffocating there. I need to know who I am and where I come from. I need to travel and to find out who my family is. There is more to me than a simple abbey servant… I know there is.”

Papi saw the look in her watering eyes as they pleaded with him. She stepped closer as a tear fell down her cheek, “Please help me… please?”

Papi struggled greatly with her plea. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t like the way that Sister Mary had treated her, but how could he let her stay on that ship? She was in a lot more danger than he thought she could understand. Even so, what choice did he have? He couldn’t force her back and she did have information on him that could lead to a hangman’s noose.

Defeated, and knowing that Melisande would not give up, he sighed, “If you are absolutely certain that you’ve thought this through… fine. I’ll keep your secret for one voyage and only one! After that, I’m taking you ashore and we’ll find the answers to your past together.”

Melisande looked away as she contemplated his words. Papi watched her think, and knew that he had duties to attend to, “This is the only deal that I’m prepared to make. I’d rather face the gallows than see you at the mercy of these cutthroats. Is it a deal or am I taking you ashore now?”

Melisande looked up and smiled, “I love you Papi, you’re the best. I accept your offer!”

She threw her arms around him and gave him a kiss. Papi pulled away quickly with a nervous look, “Don’t thank me. I’m already regretting this. Keep yourself in check and don’t rouse suspicion!”

“Don’t worry Papi,” she replied, “the guards taught me how to handle a sword. I’ll be fine.”

“I hope so,” Papi replied, “I hope so…”

Readers,

Do you have a question about writing, publishing, my stories, etc? Please feel free to post a comment or email me.
jimthewritingwizard@gmail.com
I’ll use those comments to select my next blog post.

I have been writing for several years, have 4 published works, experience with publishing and independent work, so I can hopefully be of assistance.
Please note, I only do one of these a day and will do my best to respond to everyone, but it may take some time.

Also, feel free to check out my works of Fantasy and Historical Fiction, Available on Amazon and where ever books are sold. See the link below:

http://www.amazon.com/James-Harrington/e/B00P7FBXTU

Thanks friends!
Catch you on the flip side!

-Jim

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Destiny: Divinity’s Finale, Chapter 3

by Unknown's avatar

III

 

A creaking noise roused Melisande early the next morning. Hoping to avoid a lecture from Sister Mary, she got up and got dressed quickly. Once again, she threw open her windows and peered out. To her amazement, the sun had barely peaked over the horizon. It was earlier than she was used to waking up.

Melisande was about to go back to sleep when she noticed that the tide had receded around the abbey. She didn’t know how much time she had until the bells woke everyone up, so she quickly turned away from the window. Without a thought to the consequences, she opened the door as quietly as she could, and tiptoed down the steps. She moved slowly and noticed that her hands were shaking. She couldn’t understand whether or not it was the fear of getting caught, or just anticipation of being able to finally escape the abbey.

It was not the first time that Melisande had run off and she had never been caught previously, but she still had to be careful. It wasn’t long before she reached the kitchen and took a left turn down another corridor that led her to a familiar tunnel. The ground was damp as she made her way out of the area.

Melisande’s feet carried her quickly along the stone floor. Once she reached the door at the end of the tunnel, she slowly pushed it open and ran outside. She once again found herself in the courtyard.

As the sun came up over the horizon, she ducked down behind a tree and slowly made her way toward the main gate. A series of trees and bushes were her only cover from the watchful eyes of the guards. Sneaking around had dirtied her clothes, but she did not care. This was her one indulgence, and if she was to get in trouble for it, so be it.

Melisande knew exactly when the guard shift change happened and waited until they moved apart. Once the guards were out of sight, she slipped past them and made her way out of the abbey. She was as quiet as possible, as she knew that the guards were ready for anything. The abbey wasn’t a military installation, but the church had become very protective of its grounds following the protestant uprisings.

Melisande found herself standing at the top of the stony hill leading down to the beach. She was only wearing sandals, so she had to be extra careful to mind her footing. She did not want to riskfalling and either getting hurt, or making enough noise for the guards to find her.

It took a short time for Melisande to reach the sand below. Her feet skidded every few moments as small stones gave out underneath her feet. It was a slow and treacherous climb, but her feet finally touched the damp, coarse, soil of the beach. She pulled off her sandals and let her feet dig into the sand. Her toes pressed down hard as though she would float away if she released them.

Melisande looked around for a few moments, enjoying her newfound freedom, and then, without warning, darted out towards the water, running as fast as she could. She turned and ran even faster along the shore line. She didn’t want to stop, but after ten minutes of running, the muscles in her legs began to ache in response to how hard she pushed. Finally, she gave her legs a break, let the waves caress her toes, and took in a deep breath of fresh air. Her eyes watered as the clean air filled her lungs. She was in Heaven.

Smiling, Melisande turned back and looked at the abbey. From outside, it was quite beautiful. The massive castle stood high above the water, completely covering the small island where it had been built. Nature was its main defense as any invading army would need to wait for low tide before trying to enter.

Melisande stood with her back to the ocean for a few more moments as the breeze passed over her skin. Euphoria had almost taken her when a noise in the distance made her jump. She turned quickly and noticed two ships on the horizon. They were miles out at sea and she was unable to tell what was happening. There was another low noise that sounded like distant thunder, and another, and another.

As the ships came closer, Melisande noticed that one of them had been badly damaged. They were both small ships bearing different flags with several colors. One ship had a black flag, while the larger, more damaged, ship appeared to have a white and red flag. Smoke poured from the sides of both ships.

It was at that moment that Melisande realized that the two ships were fighting. She watched as the battle unfolded. Her heart raced in her chest as the larger ship began listing to port.

The ship tried to turn away from her attacker, but it was a useless effort. The smaller ship was faster and more maneuverable. Melisande watched in amazement as a final blast from the smaller ship’s guns struck the larger one’s hull. The shot quickly pierced through a layer of wood and struck the powder magazine. The powder sparked causing the ship burst into flames.

Melisande’s eyes widened as the ship tore itself apart from the inside and large wooden splinters littered the water around it. The massive explosion rocked the coastline as Melisande watched. Her heart was in her throat as she had never seen anything so exciting in her entire life.

Within a few moments of the explosion, there was nothing left of the first ship. Melisande looked on as the second ship picked up cargo and survivors from the water. She lingered for a few minutes to see if anything else would happen before turning away and starting her long walk home. Her feet carried her slowly over the sand towards the castle walls and felt like she was dragging a weight behind her.

Once Melisande was about half way back, she stopped and looked at the ship slowly disappearing on the horizon. Then she turned and looked at the castle again. The morning bells broke the silence and she realized that she would never make it back to her room before Sister Mary. If she went back now, it would mean punishment and demerits.

As Melisande looked over her lifelong home, she was filled with a sense dread. The idea of her having to spend another day living in such monotony was unbearable. She had secretly contemplated running away, but she knew that she’d have the guards on her in no time. Sister Mary would have the entire abbey out looking for her. Her only chance would be if she were to make it to the nearest town and somehow board a ship.

The battle she had just witnessed opened the flood gates to her desire for freedom. Her chest pounded as she thought of her life, and everything she was missing out on. She knew there was more to her story then what the nuns had told her. Her family or whatever was left of their story was out there waiting to be found.

Where is my real family and who were they? Why am I here now? In Melisande’s mind, she knew that these were questions that she’d never be able to answer while living in Mont St. Michael. Still, should she just up and run away? No doubt a lot of people went through considerable effort to shelter her and she still didn’t know why.

Melisande’s mind filled with questions and wrestled back and forth with the idea of leaving. She didn’t want to hurt those who took care of her for so long, and leaving most likely meant never seeing them again. Sister Mary, as strict as she was, did take care of her and Papi was the closest thing she’d ever had to a father.

Thoughts of them worrying about her made Melisande’s heart ache even more. What should I do? She thought to herself. I love them and I don’t want to hurt anyone… but I can’t live like this. I’m not a stable girl, nor am I a maid, that’s not the life I want. I’m certain I’ll die if I have to do this much longer.

Melisande fought through her emotions as she made up her mind. With tears in her eyes, she made her decision, she could not go back. The only way she was going to find out about her past was to escape this life and discover her adventure. The desire for freedom had been seeded in her mind and there was no going back now. It hurts, but I can’t do this any more, it’s not right.

Melisande quickly made her way back to the castle and was able to duck under a large cart delivering supplies while the tide was still low. Once it stopped moving, she wandered out and hid behind a tree, listening to the people nearby. A monk came out to meet the driver, “Peace be with you sir, I see you have brought our supplies.”

The man nodded, “Yes, yes, come on, we need to get these unloaded before the tide starts coming back in, I need to be on the road for Granville well before then.”

Melisande’s heart jumped, Granville is nearby and it’s a port city! If I hurry, I might be able to catch a ride!

She quickly raced up to her room and grabbed a bag. She quickly filled it with everything that she cared about and threw it over her back. She was about to leave when the corner of her eye caught the glimpse of reflected light. She looked up to see that the blade of one of her family’s swords had caught the sunlight. This was odd as the blades had almost no luster left to them. It was very odd, but to her, it almost seemed like the swords were asking to come with her.

How could I forget you? Melisande thought to herself. She quickly grabbed the swords of their wall mounting, wrapped them in a blanket, and placed them under her arm. With her free hand, she grabbed her old cloak, wrapped herself in it, and pulled the hood up.

The moment she was ready to go, Melisande quickly peaked out into the hall to make sure that Sister Mary wasn’t around. This whole adventure would be for nothing if she got caught. Knowing Sister Mary the way she did, she’d probably be locked in her room for days.

Fearing that the carriage was about to leave, or that someone may see her, Melisande raced back down stairs. She was relieved to see that the cart had not left yet. The monks were just finishing loading up the empty barrels from the cargo. She hid behind the bushes and waited for the right moment to jump in.

The hair on the back of the young woman’s neck shot straight up when she heard a familiar voice from behind the monks, “Brother Georgio, have you seen Melisande?”

Melisande jumped as an annoyed-looking Sister Mary appeared on the scene. The monk shook his head, “I’m sorry sister, no.”

The old nun shook her head, “Where could that troublesome girl be? She’s not in her room and no one has seen her.”

“I do not know.” The monk replied.

“Very well, Brother Georgio,” she replied, “if it’s not too much trouble, once you are finished here. Please assist me in locating her. The abbey is too big for me to search on my own.”

“As you wish.” Brother Georgio replied as he got back to unloading the cart.

Once they were done, the driver secured the back of the carriage to keep the barrels from rolling and bowed to the monk, “Thanks for the help, brother. We’ll see you again soon.”

The monk nodded, “Farewell to you sir.”

Melisande saw her chance to escape when the monk turned his back. She darted out quickly and jumped up onto the back of the cart. To prevent being seen, she quickly covered herself over with a leather blanket in the back.

Melisande huddled up next to the barrels and remained perfectly still as the driver cracked the reigns. There was a sudden jolt as the carriage began to move. It was anything but smooth and Melisande found herself getting bounced around as the carriage moved. She grabbed on to one side to steady herself and keep from getting banged up.

Melisande watched quietly as the cart moved away from the abbey. In her heart, she wished that she’d left a letter explaining what she was doing and where she was going, but she’d had no time to write one and she didn’t want to risk tipping them off as to where they could locate her. She decided that it was perhaps best to arrange a letter for them when she figured out where she was going.

The cart began to pick up speed as it departed Mont Saint Michel. Melisande kept getting bounced around and it was hard to keep from hitting against the barrels. It was a rough start, and she was most likely going to see some bruising from the ride, but she was excited to start her new life and had no idea where it would take her.

Readers,

Do you have a question about writing, publishing, my stories, etc? Please feel free to post a comment or email me.
jimthewritingwizard@gmail.com
I’ll use those comments to select my next blog post.

I have been writing for several years, have 4 published works, experience with publishing and independent work, so I can hopefully be of assistance.
Please note, I only do one of these a day and will do my best to respond to everyone, but it may take some time.

Also, feel free to check out my works of Fantasy and Historical Fiction, Available on Amazon and where ever books are sold. See the link below:

http://www.amazon.com/James-Harrington/e/B00P7FBXTU

Thanks friends!
Catch you on the flip side!

-Jim

+

+ Book, fantasy, Fiction, Historical Fantasy, literature, Religion, Urban Fantasy

Destiny: Divinity’s Finale, Chapter 2

by Unknown's avatar

II

 

Melisande spent the next few hours reading from the Bible at her bedside. She also had a small collection of parchment that she enjoyed going through. Her favorite was a small piece about ships at sea and the voyages that man had taken in the last 200 years. She knew all about the discovery of the New World and the colonies that had been established in the area.

More than anything, Melisande wanted to see all of these wondrous places both near and far. She despaired, knowing that such adventure would never happen so long as she was trapped behind the walls of Mont Saint Michel. It was a harsh reality to know that the place she’d called home was little more than a prison to her.

After reading through a few chapters, Melisande got bored and decided to go exploring. She left her room and headed for the main courtyard. She walked out to the main gate where a pair of guards was standing. The sun was just reaching its height overhead and illuminated the beautiful gardens that Melisande had helped plant.

One guard saw her coming and waved to her, “Good morning Melisande!”

She turned her attention to him and smiled. The young guard was only a few years older than her. He had long brown hair that was tied up under his helmet and dark brown eyes. Melisande always thought that he was a decent looking man, just not her type, “Good morning, how are things out here today?”

“Quiet as usual.” The guard replied in almost a whisper.

“You sound almost resentful.” Melisande commented in an inquiring tone. “Not a fan of the peace and quiet?”

The guard’s voice went from quiet to annoyed, “If I was, I would never have joined the military. I had enough peace and quiet on my family’s farm back home.”

Melisande nodded, “I know the feeling, believe me.”

The guard lowered his eyes as a realized that her situation was even worse. While he had some freedom on his farm, she had none in the abbey, “My apologies. I probably have no right complaining.”

The two stood silently for a moment when the guard finally tried to lift her spirit, “So I saw a ship today, a fairly large one too.”

Melisande’s eyes widened, “Really, what kind?”

“Just a carrack,” he replied boastfully, “nothing particularly special, but it had about six cannons on the side that I could see.”

“Six,” Melisande said in disbelief, “was she a warship?”

The guard chuckled, “I highly doubt it. Carracks don’t handle cannon fire very well. Most likely it was just an overprotective merchant who thought that adding a few extra guns would make his ship safer.”

Melisande nodded, “It’s still quite a mystery. What would be a good warship?”

The guard shrugged, “The Spanish rely pretty heavily on caravels and galleons, but I have heard of other navies using a ship called a galleass.”

“What is a galleass,” she asked.

“I’m afraid I don’t know,” he replied, “I’ve only heard of them. They’re ships with massive oars and a ram on the front. It’s sort of a silly design in this day and age if you ask me, but then again, I never was a sailor.”

Melisande nodded, “I wish I could be.”

The guard shrugged with a smile, “Maybe someday you will be.”

She laughed and shook her head, “What, me, a simple kitchen girl? Let’s not be silly.”

“Stranger things have happened.” The guard replied. “Don’t count yourself out so quickly.”

Melisande thought about it for a few moments and smiled, “Well thank you for at least temporarily raising my spirits.”

The guard returned to standing at attention, “Any time.”

Melisande spent the rest of the day wandering the courtyard, imagining that she was a sailor out on a ship far away from the abbey. A slight breeze blew through her hair, making the illusion all the more real for her. She could almost feel the crash of the waves against the wooden hull of the ship so yearned to serve on.

After a few hours, the sound of the waves in the distance and the gulls in the air made it too much for Melisande. She decided that it was best to just return to her room and spend the rest of the evening reading. Without another word to anyone, she disappeared back inside.

The sun set and was quickly replaced with stars. Melisande watched the night sky and attempted to count as many stars she could, even though she knew it would be impossible. One oddity that she had noticed in the sky since she was a child was that there were two stars that always seemed to be in the same place no matter what. They weren’t on any chart and were even visible when the others couldn’t be seen. She could never figure it out, but she had given up trying to a long time ago. Slowly, she began to drift off to sleep under the night sky.

Readers,

Do you have a question about writing, publishing, my stories, etc? Please feel free to post a comment or email me.
jimthewritingwizard@gmail.com
I’ll use those comments to select my next blog post.

I have been writing for several years, have 4 published works, experience with publishing and independent work, so I can hopefully be of assistance.
Please note, I only do one of these a day and will do my best to respond to everyone, but it may take some time.

Also, feel free to check out my works of Fantasy and Historical Fiction, Available on Amazon and where ever books are sold. See the link below:

http://www.amazon.com/James-Harrington/e/B00P7FBXTU

Thanks friends!
Catch you on the flip side!

-Jim

+

+ Book, fantasy, Fiction, Historical Fantasy, literature, Religion

Destiny: Divinity’s Finale Chapter 1

by Unknown's avatar

Book 1

A Simple Dream

I

Normandy 1601

The sound of loud church bells drove Melisande from her bed in the residence cells of Mont Saint Michel. She stood up, slid her feet into her wooden sandals and opened her window to let the sun in. This day was special for her as it was one of the few really warm days in Northern France.

The sea breeze caressed her face as the gentle sound of waves crashing on the shore filled her cell. It was high tide, which meant that the abbey was completely surrounded by water. Only a small bridge in the water connected the massive building to the mainland.

Melisande was a little disappointed as she enjoyed sneaking outside of the walls to run along the sandbars and marshes when the tide was out. It appeared that she would be stuck within the abbey’s walls at the mercy of her caretakers for the day.

Ever the optimist, she shrugged it off in the hopes of seeing a ship on the horizon. It was a common occurance to see the small sail of a fishing vessel or courior on the horizon, but every now and then, she would be treated to something larger. The height of her mornings were when she caught sight of a large merchant vessel or, every once in a while, a warship.

This would not be one of those mornings as her tranquility was quickly interrupted by a harsh knock at her door, “Melisande? Melisande, are you still in bed at this hour?”

Melisande let out a startled yelp as she raced for the robe hanging next to her bed, “I’m up, I’m awake!”

A deep sigh could be heard from the other side of the door, “Have you at least made yourself decent?”

Melisande quickly tied the sash to her robe, “Yes, you may enter.”

The door burst open revealing an old nun with her arms crossed on the other side. The nun was very heavy footed and her steps could be heard throughout the abbey when she walked. Upon seeing Melisande’s appearance, her lips formed a scowl, “Young lady, it is not becoming to stay in bed all day. You have studies and chores to perform.”

Melisande frowned, “I finished my studies yesterday and this is supposed to be my day to rest. Please Sister Mary, it has been a long time since I went exploring. Might I have a few hours to myself?”

Sister Mary rolled her eyes, “I have watched over you since you were a baby, I have taken care of you, and I have put up with your nonsense. Exploration and adventure are for soldiers and sailors. What you desire is not all it appears to be, believe me. That is the path of pain and loss. You need to learn to be a lady. Find yourself a calling and perhaps a husband. Especially since you’ve decided that you did not want to join a holy order.”

“I’m sorry Sister,” Melisande replied honestly, “I am grateful for your care… but becoming a nun never had any appeal for me. I have spent my whole life thus far behind these walls. I don’t wish to be behind them forever. Something out there calls to me, I can feel its pull.”

She looked over at the two stained swords that she had mounted over her bed, “Something bigger awaits me and I need to find out what it is.”

Sister Mary followed her gaze to the swords and shook her head, “I never wanted you to receive those things, but your father insisted, and I was not about to deny someone their dying wish.”

Her gaze then returned to Melisande, “Your path is your own to choose, though you may find yourself regretting such a decision if you go searching for answers. I hope that I don’t live to see that day.”

“You don’t know that.” Melisande replied. “These swords belonged to my family… and I don’t even know who they are. I need to find answers if I’m ever to be able to live with myself.”

The elderly nun touched one of the swords near the hilt, “A few generations of your family were protected by them, this is true, but where are they now? You are the last of your family.”

Melisande stood next to Sister Mary as she looked at the swords, “But I don’t even know them… I don’t even know what my family’s name is. Will you finally tell me about them, please? Who were they, what were they like, and what is my full name?”

The nun turned away from the swords and looked Melisande in the eyes for a few moments. She saw the stormy blue eyes that never looked the same from one moment to the next. It was as though an entire sky scene passed through her pupils as she stared.

Finally the nun sighed and turned to leave the room, “I told you that I forgot your family’s name. I did not know your family well, so I can’t provide you with any information. I only met them once when they released you into my care. I’m an old woman. My memory fails sometimes”

Melisande rolled her eyes and became angry, “You’re lying. I don’t know what you think you’re protecting me from, but I deserve to know. If you truly don’t know the answrs, then you know someone that does!”

Sister Mary stopped dead in her tracks, but did not turn around, “Two demerits for your tone. It’ll be three more if you don’t begin your chores soon.”

The door closed behind her as Melisande sat down on the bed and began to sulk. She had been confined to the abbey all of her life. Often times if a ship passed by, she would try to convince one of the soldiers on guard to let her use their looking glass. Most of the time, she was successful and Melisande spent the day watching as the ships passed.

The guards didn’t make life any easier for her as they were full of stories about wars past. Melisande loved to sit and listen to the old veterans talking about past glories from long ago, even though she knew that many of them were blatantly made up or exaggerated. It made her yearn even more to free herself from the protection of the abbey walls.

Melisande had often dreamt of a life at sea, but that life was restricted to men. However she was certain that she could make it work if only she could get away from the abbey. Such things were little more than pipe dreams as she knew that she was kept there for a reason. If she tried to escape on foot, the guards would catch her in no time.

Still, in many ways, Melisande could hear the sea calling to her. It was as though an unseen spirit of the sea was pulling at her arms, but Mont Saint Michel would not release her feet. She balled a fist and hit the stone wall as tears formed in her eyes. She could barely stand it anymore.

**

It took Melisande an hour to get cleaned up and get ready for her chores. She brushed her long blonde hair back behind her left ear and allowed the right bangs hang down to her cheek. Her hair flowed half way down her back as she worked. When she was finished tending to her appearance, she left her room and made her way down the tower’s winding staircase. She then proceeded through the abbey to the main kitchen as the residents and clergy finished their meals and began to clear out.

Melisande was seated over in the far corner and given a small bowl of wheat. She ate it down slowly, resenting the flavorless mush. She never sat with anyone and was mostly ignored by the other people in the room. When she was certain that no one was looking in her direction, she dumped the wheat into a nearby bucket that she would later use for cleaning.

Sister Mary came over to her a few minutes later with an emotionless expression on her face, “Well Melisande, I am glad that you are finally up and about. Are you ready to begin your chores?”

Melisande nodded unenthusiastically, “Yes sister, I finished breakfast, so I’ll get started.”

“Good,” she replied, “I believe Mr. Clement could use some help in the kitchen. You’ll start there today.”

“Yes sister,” Melisande replied respectfully.

Without another word to the old nun, she obediently turned and entered the kitchen at the back of the room. The kitchen was little more than a stone closet with a single oven carved into the back wall. Two tables were the only furniture and they were covered with dirty utensils.

Amidst the chaos, the cook looked up and smiled at Melisande as she began her work, “Top of the morning to you, Messy.”

Melisande smiled as she picked up the water bucket next to the fireplace, “Good morning, Papi.”

Papi was a stout man that, despite his imposing size, held himself the way a soldier would. Though he never talked about his past, Melisande was certain that he’d been a military man at some point. She didn’t know his real name and always referred to him as Papi or Papi Clement.

Though Papi was somewhat of an enigma to her, she still looked at him as a father figure. He was also the only man who got away with calling her by the nickname ‘Messy,’ which he gave her as a joke about how she cleaned. It always seemed to get a rise out of her which was something he enjoyed greatly.

Melisande’s attachment to him went back to when she was three years old and he would set aside some dough to make a cookie for her whenever he was cooking. As the years passed, she would periodically sneak off to the kitchen to see him whenever Sister Mary’s back was turned. He always enjoyed the company.

Papi was not a priest or a clergyman, but he was the best cook in town and was often hired at the abbey. He also had a reputation for disappearing for a few months at a time. His absence was always upsetting to Melisande and each time, she wondered if she would ever see him again.

Papi watched Melisande as she got down on her knees to clean the floors and noticed the sad look on her face, “What troubles you, Messy, why the sour look?”

Melisande stopped for a moment, “Have you ever felt that you were destined for more then you are, or ever asked the question whether or not this is all that’s out there for you?”

The chef chuckled as he thought back to his younger years, “Oh when I was younger, sure. We all have those feelings at one point or another. Fortunately, in my time, I have seen much of the world and had my share of adventure. After all that, a little peace and quiet is a welcomed change.”

“That’s what I want!” She blurted out. “I’ve often thought about getting out of here and seeing the world. I want adventure, but moreover, I want to know who I am and where I come from.”

She touched her cheek right below her eyes, “I know I’m different, I just would like to know how and why.”

“Different?” Papi asked. “What would make you think so?”

Melisande chose her words carefully as she responded, not wanting to cause alarm, “Well my eyes for one. I’ve not seen another pair quite like them in my years, and…”

Melisande stopped for a moment, wondering if he should tell Papi this part. She trusted him, but it was quite personal. Still, he had never given her a reason not to believe that he would keep her words quiet, “When I close my eyes at night, I see things.”

The old cook stopped tending to the mess, “Things, Messy? What sort of things?”

“I… I don’t know…” She replied. “I think they might be angels. I close my eyes and I see these beautiful people dressed in white robes, dresses, or in silvery armored plates. They all have wings, but many are different shapes and sizes. Other times, it’s just one angel with her eyes bandaged.”

Papi looked nervously at her, “Messy, I’d be very careful about who you tell about those dreams, especially here.”

“I know,” she said with a nod, “don’t worry, I am not so naive that I don’t know what they might think.”

Papi turned back to cleaning off his table, “So what do you think these dreams mean?”

Melisande shrugged, “If only I knew, but I think it has to do with who I am. These dreams don’t feel like dreams at all. They’re more like what you’d expect from memories, if that even makes sense.”

She looked over at the small window which had been cut into the wall, “I want to find out, but I can’t do that as long as I’m stuck here.”

“You are probably better off not knowing.” Papi replied. “The world out there is a treacherous place. Even the strongest have trouble just getting by.”

Melisande glumly nodded continued her work, “Yes, that’s what everyone says. It’s too dangerous… I should just stay here and become a nun… forever… You sound like Sister Mary.”

Papi bit his lip as he looked at her, “Messy, I have some bad news for you.”

Melisande usually knew what this meant. Papi was going to be disappearing again. She closed her eyes as she responded, “You’re leaving again, aren’t you?”

Papi nodded, “Yeah, tomorrow.”

“For how long?” She asked.

“I can’t say.” Papi replied. “Hopefully not for too long.”

Melisande frowned, “I’ll miss you…”

“I’ll miss you too, little Messy,” Papi replied, “but no more frowning. I’ll be back!”

“You promise?” She demanded.

“Have I ever lied to you before?” Papi asked. “Of course I promise.”

“You better.” Melisande replied.

Melisande was meticulous in her cleaning. She made sure that no crack in the floor went unattended to. An hour went by as Papi and Melisande worked. They were just finishing wiping everything dry when Sister Mary appeared at the door and looked around.

Melisande smiled, “I’ve finished cleaning, what do you think?”

Sister Mary surveyed the room, as usual, without a hint of emotion and nodded, “Satisfactory work… ok, you have done your chores for the day.”

“Satisfactory?” Melisande scoffed with a surprised expression. “I scrubbed everything until it was spotless.”

Papi nodded, “I saw how hard she was working, madam, she scrubbed the entire kitchen down.”

Sister Mary gave Papi a stern look before turning back to Melisande, “Don’t ask one’s opinion, if you don’t honestly want it. Now be gone with you.”

An exasperated Melisande stared at her for a moment in disbelief. The nun returned her stare and clapped her hands, “Come now, move it!”

Still in disbelief, Melisande shook her head and stormed past the old nun up the stone steps, heading back to her room. She was angry, upset, and frustrated all at once. It never seemed like anything she did was good enough. Just once, a’ good job,’ or a ‘thank you for working so hard,’ would be appreciated. She thought to herself. Not from Sister Mary, no way, that would be too much to ask!

Melisande was years ahead of other people in her studies and she always did a good job on her chores. Though she credited being so far ahead in studies with the fact that she simply had nothing better to do with her time. In her heart, she would have made the trade to have experienced some of what the outside world offered.

**

Papi shook his head as Melisande disappeared. Sister Mary turned back to him, “You disapprove of the way I’ve raised Melisande, do you?”

“Not at all madam,” he replied, “she’s a strong-willed, but polite and hard working young woman. You’ve done as fine a job with her. As good as anyone could hope to.”

Sister Mary’s stoic expression didn’t change, “Don’t hold back. Say what’s on your mind, Mr. Clement.”

Papi looked at the stone stairs where Melisande had been standing, “However, I don’t know about how you treat her sometimes. It seems a little cold. I may not know much about her case, but she is still young. I doubt her being here is her own fault.”

Sister Mary glared at him once again, “You think I’m hard on her because I blame her for being here?”

“I can only judge based on what I’ve seen.” Papi replied. “It does look like you’re hard on her for something even she doesn’t understand.”

“Then perhaps you should watch more closely.” Sister Mary hissed. “It has been my charge to care for her since she was born. I have raised her within the church and protected her.”

“Protected her?” Papi said suspiciously, “Protected her from what?”

Sister Mary turned to leave the kitchen, “You are paid to cook, not investigate. Keep your opinions to yourself and let me decide what is best for her.”

Papi shook his head with a slight grin, “Don’t ask one’s opinion, if you don’t honestly want it.”

Sister Mary paused for a moment before turning and giving the cook an angry stare as she walked away. She didn’t appreciate her words being used against her.

Papi smiled, knowing that this was one of those rare times where he actually won an argument against her.

Readers,

Do you have a question about writing, publishing, my stories, etc? Please feel free to post a comment or email me.
jimthewritingwizard@gmail.com
I’ll use those comments to select my next blog post.

I have been writing for several years, have 4 published works, experience with publishing and independent work, so I can hopefully be of assistance.
Please note, I only do one of these a day and will do my best to respond to everyone, but it may take some time.

Also, feel free to check out my works of Fantasy and Historical Fiction, Available on Amazon and where ever books are sold. See the link below:

http://www.amazon.com/James-Harrington/e/B00P7FBXTU

Thanks friends!
Catch you on the flip side!

-Jim

+

+ literature

Destiny: Divinity’s Finale

by Unknown's avatar

Hello all,

Since starting work on Soul Siphon, I’ve been unable to decide whether I wanted to green light the third and final installment of the Divinity Saga. An adventure/romance fantasy story called ‘Destiny.’
This story takes place years after the events of the first two novels. In any case, instead of putting it to publishing, I’m submitting it to all of you in it’s raw form. If you like it and think I should publish it, PLEASE let me know. I have my email listed at the bottom of each chapter, so please let me know.  There is still a lot of work that would need to go into it, but this is the basic story. Please note, it will be posted over the span of a few weeks, given the massive size of the file!

Thanks friends, appreciate your feedback,
Jim

 

Destiny

A Novel by James Harrington

Printed and Bound in the USA

Copyright © 2015 by James Harrington

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual living persons is purely coincidental.

 

A note from the author:

Hello and welcome! I hope that you will enjoy your journey our characters as they embark on their adventure. Before you begin, I just wanted to clarify a few things.

You encounter many characters, both fictional and historical. The fictional characters are just that; fictional. Any resemblance they bear to real people is purely coincidental.

As for the historical figures that appear in the pages ahead, I have done the best I can to portray the historical characters as accurately as possible, based on the information availavle on each. However, please understand that I am exposing them to fictional situations. It is impossible to predict definitively how one might have actually reacted in these events, so again, this is based on what information is available.

Lastly, I would just like to note that this story in no way should be taken as a criticism of the beliefs of any denomination of Christianity. As a catholic, I acknowledge that the leaders of several denominations weren’t always the most upstanding of people and that is what is reflected in my writing, but that does not invalidate anyone’s belief in God or the teachings they follow.

I hope that you will enjoy this work of fiction for what it is; a work of fiction. Thank you and God bless!

Jim H.

 

Prologue

Venice 1585

Black clouds choked out all light from the sun as a dark, ominous, day turned into a black and violent night. As the remaining light vanished from the skies of Venice, the water became extremely choppy and rain hammered down on any poor fool still outside at that late hour. Boats tugged at their moorings as the wind beat down on them. It was as though the world had transformed into something malicious.

The small fishing village was no stranger to rough weather, but this night was different. The wind coming in off of the water bore ill tidings from afar. Even people possessing little to no awareness could feel the evil around them. Many instinctively closed the shutters on their windows as though the town were about to fall under attack.

Federico watched from the safety of his house near the harbor, as the waves picked up. The water poured over his private dock, and he wondered how long his boat would last. It was his livelihood and had been in the family for generations.

At the moment, however, this was the least of Federico’s worries. He knew what was approaching, and what this meant for his family. As he peered out the window, his vision was obscured by the amount of rain water pouring down the glass. It was as though he was standing behind a small waterfall trying to peer through, but he still had enough clarity to see the black carriage with lanterns on either side break through the night.

Two mighty brown horses pulled the old carriage right to the door of the house. Federico breathed a sigh of relief as the carriage stopped just outside of his door. The waterlogged driver jumped out of his seat and pulled the carriage door opened, allowing three people in black robes to step out.

The fire in the stove fought to stay alive as the door opened and a gust heavy wind penetrated the room. It was as though opening the door had allowed something evil into the house. The three cloaked figures entered the room and, once sheltered from the rain, removed the drenched cloaks that they had been wearing.

Federico fought against the heavy wind to get the door closed. Once it finally connected to the lock, he breathed a sigh of relief before turning to his guests. As the cloaks came off, they revealed two young priests and a nun. The priests wore red and black robes and each had swords sheathed on their belts.

“Welcome to my home,” Federico said with a relieved look, “I appreciate your quick response to my letter. I take it that you know what is going on?”

The nun turned to Federico and nodded. Her face had deep creases, indicative of someone who had lived a hard life. Her face was twisted into a scowl as she spoke, “We came as soon as we heard. I am Sister Mary, where is she?”

There was a sudden flash of light and a winged woman appeared behind them. Federico brushed back his light brown hair and nodded, “Lailah will take you to her.”

Sister Mary bowed, “Blessed Angel, we are here to carry out the Lord’s bidding as you commanded.”

Lailah returned the gesture with a smile, “Please follow me, Sister. It won’t be long now.”

The two women disappeared into the next room and closed the door behind them. Federico shook his head as he turned to the priests, “I had prayed that this night would never come. I was told about the prophecy from childhood, but had hoped it would pass my generation by.”

The older priest placed his hand on Federico’s shoulder, “No one who faces these dark times would choose to bring it on themselves or the ones they love, my son.”

“But how could God let this happen?” Federico asked. “If he knew… it was possible.”

The priest shook his head, “I somehow don’t think that even he foresaw this during certain events in your family’s history.”

Federico lowered his eyes and spoke in a defeated tone, “Padre…  just promise me that she will be safe. Don’t let this all be for nothing.”

“On my life,” the priest replied as he touched his sword, “she will be safe and she will live comfortable life. That is our mandate and it will be carried out as long as we draw breath.”

Federico was satasfied with the priest’s promise. It appeared that everything was going according to how it had been spelled out in the prophecy. It was little comfort to him though as he could feel danger approaching.

“Padre…” Federico finally said softly with tears in his eyes, “Would you be so kind as to give me my last rights?”

The priest’s eye’s narrowed, “Of course my son, but why?”

“Please Padre,” Federico insisted, “I have a very bad feeling that our time is growing short.”

The priest didn’t understand what Federico meant, but he had not been given all the details of what was about to transpire. Sister Mary was in charge in this case, by official order of the bishop. His job was simply to see to her saftey. Having no other choice, he finally agreed, “Very well, my son.”

**

In the next room over, Sister Mary, led by the angel Lailah, encountered a woman lying in a small bed. She was covered in sweat and breathing rapidly. Her dark brown hair was matted to her head and she was clearly in pain. Sister Mary spoke in an emotionless voice as lighting struck outside, “It has begun.”

The woman’s stomach was bulging as Sister Mary took a seat at the edge of the bed. The old nun adjusted her robes to prevent them from being soiled and spoke in an emotionless voice, “Cecca, I’m Sister Mary. I am here to help. It is almost time, are you ready to start pushing?”

Cecca struggled to brush her matted hair back from her face and nodded. She was in so much pain that she could not move anything else. Lailah folded her wings, tied back her curly, light brown, hair and knelt down near Cecca’s head to wipe the sweat from her brow, “You can rest easy. I will be here with you to the end.”

“Bless you, angel.” Cecca forced out between breaths. “Bless you.”

Sister Mary took hold of Cecca’s legs and bent them up at the knee. She watched and waited patiently for a few minutes. Cecca’s breathing was becoming eratic as her whole body shifted.

Finally, when Sister Mary decided that the time was right, she looked up at Cecca, “It is time, pray to Almighty God and push.”

Cecca closed her eyes and screamed as she pushed with her entire body. Sister Mary nodded as the woman’s arms and legs quivered, “Good, good, again.”

Federico listened desperately as his wife struggled in the other room. He wanted to be there with her, but the elderly nun would not have allowed it. This was one time that he needed to remain out of the way. An hour went by as the young man listened helplessly as his wife’s agonizing screams shot through the house. Her voice suddenly fell silent and a new one appeared.

The scream of a newborn child shattered the dark aura in the room. Federico’s faced lightened up as he turned away from the door and back to the priest, “Do you hear that? Do you, it’s clear as day!”

Both priests nodded as the older one smiled, “Congratulations my son. The baby sounds healthy.”

A short time later, Sister Mary came to the door, pale white, with a look of fear in her eyes. She stood for a moment looking at Federico, and then over to her escorts, “Our worst fears have become reality.”

The two priests stepped past Federico and into the room where Lailah was holding the child. Lailah looked at them both solemnly and nodded, “As the Most High feared, the prophecy has come true, look.”

She held the child out to them and uncovered its face. Miraculously, the newborn’s eyes were wide open. Her pupils looked almost identical to those of Lailah. She giggled as she looked up at the priests.

Cecca sighed as her eyes began to close, “Little Aralyn…”

The younger priest’s lips twisted, “I still don’t understand, blessed angel, would you not be better suited to keep her safe?”

Lailah shook her head, “That is outside of my mandate. I have already done more than I am supposed to.  Priests travelling hallowed grounds will have a better chance of keeping her hidden and safe from the dark one’s eyes than a lone angel flying around. The dark ones will not be able to trace you like they can me.”

The priest sighed as Lailah handed the mystical child to them, “Very well.”

At that moment, one of the windows crashed open, shattering the glass. The wind ripped through the room like an invisible wildfire. The thunder became even louder as Federico struggled to put a plank of wood over the opening.

Sister Mary turned quickly to the preists, “The storm is getting worse, we must go now or we will be trapped here!”

At that moment, Cecca came to life on the bed, “Wait, please, just a few minutes… won’t you please let me hold her?”

Sister Mary looked at the child stoically and shook her head, “I’m sorry, there is no time.”

“Please, no, you can’t take her, please!” Cecca pleaded with the old nun as she tried to get up. “My baby!”

Federico heard Cecca’s frantic cries and ran into the room to confort her, “I’m so sorry my love…”

Cecca buried her head in Francesco’s arms, “No… It’s not fair… why us?”

Federico looked up at Sister Mary, “Is there no way?”

For the first time in years, a look of sympathy came over Sister Mary’s features as she shook her head, “If there were, I would allow it. As it stands, there is not. We must leave if there is to be any chance.”

Federico sighed and closed his eyes, “Then go, now! Leave this place… keep her safe…”

The priests obediently turned and began to leave. The older priest looked back sympathetically, “Peace be with you, my children. For what it’s worth… I am sorry.”

Federico, remembering a promise he had made to Cecca, suddenly shot to his feet, “Wait, Padre!”

“My son, we have no time!” The old priest responded sternly.

“I know,” Federico replied apologetically, “but I have something for you.”

He quickly went to the closet and came back with a staff-like object draped in a red cloth. The priest saw that the cloth was protecting two very old swords. He looked at them oddly for a moment and then back at Federico, “My son?”

“Please take them.” Federico insisted. “They belonged to my great grandparents. Make sure she receives them when she is old enough… “

“You want us to give your daughter weapons?” The priest asked in disbelief.

“I understand that it may not make much sense to you Padre,” Federico replied, “but these swords have protected my family for generations. Please take them.”

The priest eyed him oddly for a moment. Federico’s expression became despirate under the priests eyes, “Consider it the last wish of a dying man.”

The priest sighed and took the swords before turning back to his party, “Oh very well.”

Once they were ready, the group bid farewell to Federico and left him to tend to his emotionally shattered wife. The group exited the house and boarded their carriage with the child in their care. They knew that they had to move quickly in order to get her to saftey.

Lailah followed behind them, “Keep that child safe, at all costs.”

The elder priest turned back to her, “Blessed Angel, what will happen to them now?”

Lailah turned back and looked at the house. She brushed her long brown hair from her eyes and let out a defeated sigh, “I did the best I could to shield the family from the evil that is hunting them… but it proved to be too much for me. They aren’t safe anywhere now.”

She turned back to the priest with a reassuring look on her face, “Don’t worry Padre, my sister has seen to it that her kin will be taken care of. You need to focus on your own part.”

“What hope do we have against such power?” The younger priest demanded.

“Leave that to me.” Lailah replied. “Just go while you still can.”

The driver took his seat without another word and snapped the rains. The horses whinnied as they charged forward. The priest looked back as the carriage sped away, “Peace be with you, blessed Angel.”

Lailah closed her eyes for a moment and muttered a prayer under her breath. At that moment, a white aura appeared around the carriage and then vanished. She nodded, confident that they were now safe from harm.

A moment later, Federico came to the door with a look of sorrow on his face as the carriage disappeared from view. Lailah turned to him, “They will be safe now.”

When Federico’s expression didn’t change, she became worried, “Federico, what is it?”

“My wife…” Federico replied. “The stress of the pregnancy was too much for her.”

Lailah closed her eyes for a few moments. When she reopened them, a sharp pain entered her heart as tears fell down her cheeks, “Federico, I am so sorry…”

Federico’s jaw tightened up as he stepped away from the house and stood beside Lailah, “Tell me that this has all been worth it. Tell me that she’ll survive.”

Lailah nodded, “Your daughter has a long struggle ahead of her, she will not know who she is and may never know her family, but she will survive to adulthood.”

“What about after that?” Federico demanded.

Lailah closed her eyes for a moment and shook her head, “I don’t know. Her future is clouded even from my eyes.”

Suddenly, out in the distance, an unearthly moan emanated over the waves. Lailah began breathing heavily, “They are coming…”

Federico ran back inside his house, grabbed his sword from behind the door, and rejoined Lailah out front, “I’ll kill him myself.”

Lailah smiled, “You have your ancestor’s heart, but that won’t protect you this time. You are no match for this creature.  I would suggest you go back inside.”

“I don’t think so.” Federico replied adamantly. “You have watched over me and my family as we waited for this day. There is no escaping now and I’ll never see the two people I love the most again. I have nothing left and you are the closest thing I still have to family. My soul is prepared Lailah. You’re not facing him alone.”

Lailah nodded, “Very well…”

The two looked at each other hopelessly as a deep moan emanated from the black water. Lailah went pale and took a step forward, “He approaches.”

There was another flash of light from the sky as a formless black entity appeared in front of them. It was little more than a cloud that quickly took the shape of a human, but had no features at all. It was little more than a silhouette in the darkness.

Two bright yellow eyes appeared on its head. It stepped forward and spoke in a dark, inhuman, voice, “So many years since we’ve been able to walk the lands of this world… Where is she?”

Lailah stared into the creature’s malice-filled yellow eyes, “Safe.”

The creature’s eyes began burning bright as they took a menacing shape, “We are giving you one chance to give us what we want. Do this, and we’ll let you live… for now.”

Lailah shook her head, “The Most High won’t negotiate with the likes of you.”

“The Most High is a part of us!” The creature shot back.

“Why resist us?” It asked. “We only wish to take back what is rightfully ours from that deceptor, Lucifer.”

“Because Lucifer isn’t a threat to us,” Lailah replied, “you are.”

The yellow eyes narrowed, “If you won’t help us willingly, then we will rip the answer from your corpse!”

“Never!” Federico shouted as he stepped forward. “You will die first!”

Before he could say anything else, a sharp object burst through Federico’s chest and he was elevated off of the ground. A small imp appeared behind Federico as his body fell limp. Lailah was unable to react in time, “No!”

The entity cackled, “We think not. We did not wait eons to be stopped by a child race.”

The imp pulled the blade from Federico’s back as he fell to the ground. Blood mixed with the puddles of water that had pooled on the beach. Federico lay on his side as his eyes began to flutter. He looked up at the sky and reached out with all his strength, “Cecca…”

Within moments, Federico’s body went limp and his eyes closed. Lailah spoke through a clenched jaw, “Federico was an innocent! He never hurt anyone and he was of no threat to you! If you want to retake the underworld, then by all means do so, but leave these people out of…”

Lailah stopped mid-sentence and found herself unable to draw breath. She grabbed her neck as the entity raised a clenched fist from its side. Lailah’s body began to levitate off the ground as though she were being hanged.

The entity moved even closer until Lailah could feel its hot breath on her face. Its eyes suddenly went from yellow to red, “We do not take orders from you! Be gone, pathetic insect!”

The creature flicked its wrist and released its grip on Lailah. In response to its hand motion, the helpless angel shot backwards through a window. The glass shattered all around her, ripping into her skin as she landed in Federico’s kitchen. The entity began laughing hysterically as it waved its arm.

At that moment, the entire house burst into flame as though obeying his command. The flames filled the dark sky and lit up the town like it was daylight. The heat inside was so intense that any human would have been horribly burned had they been too close.

Inside, Lailah tried to protect herself from the inferno by covering herself with her wings. When the flame hit her, it incinerated her feathers. She screamed out in pain as the skin of her wings seared and began to blister.

There was nothing Lailah could do now. Knowing that she was near death, she closed her eyes and began to pray, “Oh Lord Most High, let this fate pass me by. Take me into thy loving hands. Spare your loyal servant this pain…”

Lailah received no answer as the skin of her wings began to turn black. She clenched her eyes shut and tried to fight the pain, but she was losing control of her mind as the agony took over. Looking at her wings, she knew she wouldn’t be able to fly again, if she survived.

Outside, the entity raised its hand again and squeezed its fist. Lailah was elevated by her neck once more and tossed through another window. Her clothing was scorched and all but burned away, her skin was badly scarred, and her wings were completely crippled. She landed on the beach away from the burning house.

Steam poured off her skin and the agony was destroying her mental stability. She trembled as her memories and reason gave way to madness. She rolled on her back as the remains of her clothing disintegrated.

The entity slowly made its way down to her to avoid being seen by the crowd of people coming out to fight the flame. Lailah saw it coming and didn’t even bother to try to cover herself. Her mind was almost gone and she barely even knew who she was.

The creature looked down at her, “You are now powerless and no one is coming to save you. There is no escape, tell us what we want to know and we’ll grant you a quick death!”

Lailah breathed in as deeply as she could, but refused to speak. Even in her state, she was not about to give the creature any satasfaction. The entity saw this and nodded, “We understand… despite the fate which lies ahead of you, you still protect such pitiful creatures. We admit that we did not think his servants had such iron.”

From her hands and knees, Lailah looked up at the entity with a defiant yet fearful look in her eyes. Her mind was scrambled and she had a hard time just putting words together, “Wh… what you go… do with me?”

The entity laughed at her broken speech, “Nothing I can do to you would compare to the horror that awaits you at the hands of these creatures… or your own mind. We are going to leave you here for them to find. What happens to you will be up to them.”

Lailah gasped as the entity turned away from her. She closed her eyes and rested her head on the cold sand as her sight left her. The rain and the damp ground were her only comfort as she waited for death. The imp that had accompanied the entity landed nearby, “I live to serve you my lord!”

The entity clenched its fist, barely paying attention to the small creature, “Where did they take the child?”

“I don’t know my lord.” The Imp responded nervously. “The humans appear to have been protected from our site, we couldn’t track them.”

The entity clenched its fists as it turned away, “It would appear that even in her weakened state, the angel’s powers were more than enough to help them evade you… you’ve failed us yet again… We want you and your minions to begin searching everywhere! Search for a lifetime if you have to, but we want that child found! Fail, and it will be your last!”

The imp bowed, “My life is to server you, Legion.”

Readers,

Do you have a question about writing, publishing, my stories, etc? Please feel free to post a comment or email me.
jimthewritingwizard@gmail.com
I’ll use those comments to select my next blog post.

I have been writing for several years, have 4 published works, experience with publishing and independent work, so I can hopefully be of assistance.
Please note, I only do one of these a day and will do my best to respond to everyone, but it may take some time.

Also, feel free to check out my works of Fantasy and Historical Fiction, Available on Amazon and where ever books are sold. See the link below:

http://www.amazon.com/James-Harrington/e/B00P7FBXTU

Thanks friends!
Catch you on the flip side!

-Jim

+

+ Author, Book, Comic, fantasy, Fiction, Reading, Urban Fantasy

A Request From The Author

by Unknown's avatar

Hi All, Soul Siphon has been doing great from what I’ve seen thus far in terms of readership. I’d like to thank everyone who has purchased a copy and even those who are considering it. One thing I would ask is that upon completion of the novel, PLEASE leave a review, preferably on Amazon, but any book selling site would be great! Word of mouth is everything in the business and your help would be greatly appreciated!

DSC_2044

Thanks friends!
-Jim

Readers,

Do you have a question about writing, publishing, my stories, etc? Please feel free to post a comment or email me.
jimthewritingwizard@gmail.com
I’ll use those comments to select my next blog post.

I have been writing for several years, have 4 published works, experience with publishing and independent work, so I can hopefully be of assistance.
Please note, I only do one of these a day and will do my best to respond to everyone, but it may take some time.

Also, feel free to check out my works of Fantasy and Historical Fiction, Available on Amazon and where ever books are sold. See the link below:

http://www.amazon.com/James-Harrington/e/B00P7FBXTU

Thanks friends!
Catch you on the flip side!

-Jim

+ Uncategorized

IS WRITING THERAPEUTIC? — Peace To The Mind

by Unknown's avatar

Using a personal journal to record your thoughts and concepts on a daily basis can be a stress reliever. This a way to be in touch with yourself and the universe about what’s essential to you. Someone may say ‘That doesn’t make any sense’ or ‘How can writing down a few sentences make anyone feel […]

via IS WRITING THERAPEUTIC? — Peace To The Mind

+

+ advice, Author, Book, Fiction, literature, Uncategorized

Bad Reviews…

by Unknown's avatar

Hi James,
We connected on Twitter and I got your email address from your website. You had made a comment on Twitter to feel free to email for advice.
I’m new to self-publishing and released my first book in January.  I had worked on the manuscript off and on for a couple of years before getting serious about publishing.  I did the best I could on proofing, but couldn’t afford to hire a professional proofreader.  I did, however, hire a professional to convert the file for Amazon ebook & Create Space print version.  Before I read some information from some other successful writers, I had solicited a couple of reviews from a company that does reviews.  My book has 3 prior positive reviews with a 3 1/2 star rating on Amazon.
This company I went with has review agents working for them and the one who did my book review was from Canada and it didn’t show up on Amazon U.S.   The only way I knew it had even been done was purely by accident. I happened to sign in to Goodreads where I had my book listed and saw I had a review with a score of 1, but there were no comments.  Because I was wondering why I had received the low score, I emailed her and she replied with the link to the review on Amazon. ca.
How does an author come to grips with a bad review?  I know I need to put this behind me and move on, but the reviewer is also supposed to be an editor and I was told by the person who runs the company that I should hire her to fix what is wrong instead of complaining about the low review.  Was I out of line by requesting that she remove her review? I based the request according to what the reviewer told me, “I usually don’t even post a review if I can’t give it at least 3 stars.”  I was accused in an email from the person who runs the company as “you’ve been somewhat harassing one of our readers.”
I was devastated.   I know I need to get more thick skinned, but is this normal conduct for a company or reviewer?   I just need another professional authors opinion.   Thanks for letting me vent and I’m looking forward to your reply.
bizwings

Hi J.E.
Hope all is well with you. Thank you for the email! So… honestly I had a similar experience on my first published work. It was given a 1 star review on Goodreads with no reason or comments. I had to go digging a little further for why they gave it 1 star. I don’t know why goodreads pulls in the stars without the review like that, it’s not really fair, but it happens. Truth be told, I avoid that site, I’ve never really been a huge fan.
Personally, I don’t like the idea of hiring someone to write reviews for you. I tend to ask people who read the book to leave reviews and they tend to be pretty good about it. Anyway, were you out of line? Pardon my bluntness… but yes. Hiring reviewers, you always run the risk of getting reviews that you’re not going to like… and paying for them. You’re not paying them to be ‘yessirs’ you’re paying them for their opinions. Plain and simple.
Nothing bites worse than having something you worked hard on, and dedicated a lot of time and money to, getting a bad review. However, you can’t take it personally, because the more you write, the more it’s going to happen. In a world where literally everyone has an opinion and no two of them are ever exactly alike, bad reviews are par for the course. Look at Rotten Tomatoes when it comes to movies. How many movies have a 100% fresh review? How many? Heck even timeless classics like the Wizard of Oz have bad reviews on them (Well… 1% for the Wizard of Oz and I would love to meet the critic with the cast-iron balls who gave that bad review.)
The best way to look at these reviews is to figure out what people didn’t like about your book. If they leave reviews like ‘I don’t like this character, they just didn’t strike me as someone I can relate to.’ Well that’s fine. Someone else will relate to that character. Again, it’s opinion. However then you’re going to get reviews like ‘I found the plot to be a little stale or unbelievable because (insert reason).’
To me, this is constructive criticism. This is something I can take and build off of for my next book. This is the kind of thing you’ll need to get used to, especially if you’re ever going to get people to edit and critique your book. I tell the people who edit mine to hold nothing back. I WANT them to be as brutal as possible and they… hesitantly give me exactly what I want. Why do I want such abuse? Because the more blunt they are, the more I can fix before I publish. The same can be said for people leaving reviews after that fact.
Are their going to be mean reviewers out there? Absolutely, but they are usually in the minority. Most people aren’t being mean, they’re simply sharing their opinion of something they either like or didn’t like so others, including the author know what to look out for. As long as you look at the criticism as constructive, you’ll be a lot happier.
Anyway, I hope this helps! Please feel free to email me if you need further help!
Thanks,
Jim

Readers,

Do you have a question about writing, publishing, my stories, etc? Please feel free to post a comment or email me.
jimthewritingwizard@gmail.com
I’ll use those comments to select my next blog post.

I have been writing for several years, have 4 published works, experience with publishing and independent work, so I can hopefully be of assistance.
Please note, I only do one of these a day and will do my best to respond to everyone, but it may take some time.

Also, feel free to check out my works of Fantasy and Historical Fiction, Available on Amazon and where ever books are sold. See the link below:

http://www.amazon.com/James-Harrington/e/B00P7FBXTU

Thanks friends!
Catch you on the flip side!

-Jim

+

+ advice, Comic, Comic Book, literature, Opinion, Uncategorized

Do Comic Books Count As Reading?

by Unknown's avatar

A lot of people, mostly older and notably academic, would say no. You’re basically looking at a lot of pretty pictures with some text. It has no real character or setting description, no alteration, nothing.

Which is true, but does it really matter that much? On the one hand, you could argue that a picture is worth a thousand words and you’re omitting those words by showing rather than telling, thus making it easier on the reader. Is this a valid point though?

Well maybe… you really are taking what could be explained in several pages and condensing it to a single tile on a page, but that doesn’t make it negative.

Personally, I don’t see these two as being the same medium, closely related, but no the same medium. You have visual and written mediums, as well as audible mediums. One is no less valid than the other. In this case, I’d say that comics and manga are a hybrid of two mediums, no less valid than either of them.

Yes when the writer paints the picture instead of describing it, you lose something. Now the reader can’t as easily build the world in their own imagination as they see fit, but it also gives the reader a chance to become more immersed in the world. By showing instead of telling, the reader can focus more on the characters and their development instead of imagery. Many people like comics because they say so much with just a few lines of cleverly chosen dialogue.

In a normal book, many writers get too tied up in imagery and descriptions instead of letting the reader figure it out. This can lead to some becoming disinterested or even bored with what they’re reading. There are many books out there that I can remember where I could skip over whole pages of description without really missing anything. In comics and manga, I couldn’t imagine skipping over a single panel and still being able to continue reading.

So in the end, do comic books count as reading? Honestly, yes. They may not really fall into the literature category, but that doesn’t make them any less valuable. When I was in college taking intro to education classes, I remember being taught about how there are some people who learn better with visuals, and some who learn better by just hearing things. Honestly, I remember struggling in school in the younger grades because it was a time when education was more of a one-size-fits-all deal where there was more tell and less show. Today, that isn’t the case. In fact, I had a few history classes in college where graphic novels such as MAUS  were required reading. The classroom dynamic has changed to much that hybrid mediums such as graphic novels and comics are becoming more accepted.
In fact, there is a great charity organization out there called the Caroline Manga Library. It is a great traveling charity that’s goal is to teach and raise literacy awareness through manga and comics. They go to several cons and events, offering a wide library of comics, manga, artwork and so on. It really is a great organization. |

Yes, nothing will ever replace classic stories and the written word, but that’s not necessarily the goal of manga and comics. It’s simply another way to tell the same story. If you don’t like that medium or find it hard to follow, no problem. There are of course the traditional learners who still need to be catered to as well, but in accepting mediums that encompass more than one style, we open the door to more possibilities.

Anyway, that’s just my thoughts on the matter. Please feel free to leave a comment below whether you agree or disagree. I’d love to hear what everyone thinks.

 

Thanks friends,

Catch you on the flipside,

Jim

Readers,

Do you have a question about writing, publishing, my stories, etc? Please feel free to post a comment or email me.
jimthewritingwizard@gmail.com
I’ll use those comments to select my next blog post.

I have been writing for several years, have 4 published works, experience with publishing and independent work, so I can hopefully be of assistance.
Please note, I only do one of these a day and will do my best to respond to everyone, but it may take some time.

Also, feel free to check out my works of Fantasy and Historical Fiction, Available on Amazon and where ever books are sold. See the link below:

http://www.amazon.com/James-Harrington/e/B00P7FBXTU

Thanks friends!
Catch you on the flip side!

-Jim

+

+ Book, Comics, fantasy, Fiction, literature, Science Fiction, Urban Fantasy

Soul Siphon Chapter 1

by Unknown's avatar

Hi All,

Just wanted to give everyone a sample of my newest book:

I

“Nurse, what happened?”

“I don’t know, Doctor. He just started convulsing. We were monitoring him after his skin became discolored, and then he flat-lined.”

Corban McConnell felt his body slipping away and was powerless to stop it. He tried to scream, but Adramelech would not allow him enough control over his own muscles to do it. He was trapped in a cage in his own mind, one that he could not escape from. All he could do was sit and watch helplessly as the demon destroyed his world.

Corban could feel a burning sensation in his chest where the crucifix that his mother gave him used to reside. It had been removed when he had been committed, but the scar from where it had been remained. When Adramelech possessed him, it felt as though someone had cast the crucifix into a fireplace and allowed it to get red hot before placing it around his neck.

The blessed artifact had kept Adramelech at bay, but it eventually began to cause him pain. The doctors had long since removed it, fearing that he could use the chain to harm himself. It was the final nail in his proverbial coffin.

Corban had been cursed with the demon for almost a year and it had been slowly and painfully gnawing away at him. His stomach was so tight that he had not been able to eat much in months. He was emaciated and covered in scars from head to toe, his face bearing the worst of it. The demon had forced him to abuse himself and those around him in every way physically possible. He had been forced to alienate the ones he cared for the most for their own safety and allow himself to be locked away in a safe room at Mclean Hospital. He spent the last few weeks restrained to a hospital bed while doctors wired him with monitors and probes. His dark brown hair had been shaved down to little more than stubble to prevent him from ripping it out.

He was aware that his mental state was continuing to deteriorate. It would only be a matter of time until Adramelech gained full control and was able to cause his organs to rupture. He was soon transferred to Massachusetts General Hospital to deal with his injuries. He didn’t really have the consciousness to care about the difference of scenery. He was too busy fighting the entity within to even acknowledge the new doctors that were looking after him.

Corban wasn’t angry at them for his suffering, they were doing their best, but what he was dealing with, no medical science could save him from. There was nothing any mortal could do to stop Adramelech.

“Get me a defibrillator, STAT!”

Corban watched one of the nurses quickly pull a small cart over with a pair of pads resting on top of them. Another nurse began chest compressions while a third pumped oxygen into him with an ambu bag. The group ignored the sounds of the machines around them as they went to work in a futile attempt to save their patient’s life.

Doctor Morgan grabbed the pads and applied them to Corban’s chest, “Device charging now…”

The doctor waited a moment for the defibrillator to charge. Corban braced himself as he listened to the high-pitched sound of the electricity power up as the device came to life. When the indicator on the defibrillator turned red, the doctor returned his attention to Corban, “Everybody, clear!”

The surgical team backed away as the doctor began defibrillation, “200J…”

Corban’s lifeless body convulsed as the electricity flowed through it. Once the system turned off, the group began CPR again. Every alarm was still sounding off, indicating that he was still flat lined. The monitoring nurse shook her head as she checked Corban for any response, “No pulse.”

“What’s going on in there?”

Doctor Morgan had been with Corban since he was transferred. He knew that Doctor Morgan had read the report on the events surrounding Corban’s transfer and was sure that the whole case had him perplexed. The failed medical treatments which had both therapists and doctors alike baffled were bad enough, but then his psychological report also mentioned an exorcism that had somehow made his condition worse. He didn’t know if the doctor was a believer or not, but he somehow doubted it.

Adramelech had allowed him to live through each of these experiences while keeping him in a comatose state. He couldn’t react, speak, or move, but he could see and feel as that was all that the demon would allow. It was as close to Hell as he’d ever been.

Doctor Morgan’s voice appeared again as Corban tried to shut everything out, “Again, 200J.”

“Everybody, clear!”

It was the same as the previous attempt. Corban’s body convulsed, but did not respond. He was not coming out of it.

Finally, Doctor Morgan made the call to move him, “No good, get him to OR 2! Page the on call surgeon.”

The lead surgeon, Doctor Teach met Doctor Morgan in the surgical prep room as his team rushed to get Corban ready. He could hear them talking from the next room. Doctor Teach’s voice had a detectable level of concern, “Status?”

“We’ve been administering CPR since he flat lined.”

“How long?”

“Two minutes.”

“All right, once we’re in, let’s get him on the table.”

“Immediately, doctor.”

As Corban’s bed was wheeled into OR 2, the surgeon immediately went to work, prepping him for surgery. His body began to tremble as even more alarms went off. Doctor Teach knew that he was running out of time, “There’s blood coming out of his mouth. He’s most likely suffering from internal hemorrhaging. We need to get in there now or we’re going to lose him.”

Corban fought to regain some control and closed his eyes as he heard the machines nearby begin to beep in alarm. His head turned to the side and his world went completely blank. At that moment, all doubt was banished from his mind. Death was inevitable. Father… into your hands, I commend my spirit.

Adramelech cackled in the back of his mind, “He can’t save you now, no one can! You are mine and you always will be!”

You can’t have my soul, Adramelech. You’ve destroyed my body, but that’s all you’ll ever take. You… will lose!

“Small words… even the priest who tried to exorcise me failed and he is a man of faith. You have always been a man of doubt. What do you possibly think you can do now?”

In a desperate attempt to shut the demon out, Corban thought back to his last day with his girlfriend, Janine. He remembered how her long blonde hair blew in the breeze as she stepped out of his jeep. It was a very bittersweet memory.

The last few months of their relationship had been rocky. They both went to college in different places which put considerable strain on their relationship. In hindsight, that was probably a good thing for them both. Corban would not need to worry about her as much as she would have an easier time moving on. In his heart, he’d known that their relationship would not have survived more than a few months anyway.

A beep on the wall caused Corban to snap back into reality. He was back on the operating table in Mass General’s Division of Trauma. Though not conscious, he was fully aware of what was happening. Adramelech would not allow him to miss a minute of the pain. Even the medications that were being pumped through his body could not keep the demon at bay.

I’m sorry Janine, Corban thought to himself. I have to break my promise. I can’t be there anymore. I hope you have a wonderful life…

Adramelech cackled in his mind, “That’s it, let her go. There is no escape for you now. Let go of all you hold dear and submit.”

That’s what you think I’m doing? You’ve spent this much time in my head and you still have no clue.

“What other choice is there? It’ll only hurt more by holding onto them.”

But it keeps you from winning. Giving up what makes me who I am would be to submit to you.

You already have.

Not yet, just you watch.

Corban knew exactly what he had to do. He dreaded it, but knew that Adramelech would never let him be at peace as long as the demon lurked in his mind. As long as the demon was there, he would forever be a slave. He pulled together what little mental fortitude he had left and blocked out Adramelech one last time. He had regained control of his body just long enough to release himself. He had to act quickly as this was the only chance he’d get. Just one last push.

Corban appreciated everything that the doctors were doing, but he knew that his body was broken. Even if he wanted to remain, he knew that it was no longer an option. If he didn’t vacate, Adramelech would have a chance to regain control.

As Corban braced himself, he could feel the sense of nervousness in his mind. Adramelech reached out to him, “Wait… wait, if you try to cast me out, you’ll die too. We’ve become too intertwined for you to survive.”

I know that. I’m not trying to cast you out. I’m denying you your prize.

“You’ll lose everything.”

No other choice.

“There is always another choice.”

Not interested.

“Janine and your mother will be hurt.”

I know that…

“Wait, listen to me!”

No, I’m done with having you in my head! The game is over!

Adramelech cried out in panic, “No!”

Go back to Hell!

Corban braced himself for the coming shock to his system. No doubt it was going to be painful, but it couldn’t possibly be worse than what he had already experienced. He was spent and nothing that happened now was going to faze him.

At that moment, as the doctor worked, Corban’s eyes shot open and a look of distress appeared on his face, startling Doctor Morgan, “Is he sedated?”

The anesthesiologist eyed her panels and turned back to the surgeon, “Yes, he’s under general anesthesia and everything looks stable on my end. I don’t understand, what’s happening should not be possible!”

“Increase his dosage.”

“I can’t, it’s at the maximum. If I increase the dosage it could do irreparable damage!”

“Doctor…”

Before the surgeon could continue, Corban smiled at the lights above him. He was unable to speak with the tube down his throat, but he still managed to smile widely. The game is over, Adramelech! You’ve lost, now go back to Hell!

At that moment, Corban’s eyes closed forever. His body went pale. As his world blurred out, he could hear the screams of the scanners hooked up to his body, trying to find any sign of life. It sounded as though they were in a panic.

The surgical team went frantic as they went to work in an attempt to save his life. Yet even amidst the chaos, Corban was able to take solace in the fact that he had won. He had denied Adramelech his prize, but would now face the consequences for doing so.

An hour later, it was all over. The surgical team had done everything that they could, but his body was not responding. Doctor Teach lowered his eyes as he was finally forced to admit defeat, “He’s gone.”

As the group backed away from Corban’s body, Doctor Teach checked the clock on the wall, “Note the time of death, 8:53 PM.”

Doctor Morgan looked over the mess of equipment and blood, “All right, let’s get cleaned up here… I’ve got some bad news to deliver.”

The surgical team had lost patients before. It was something that came with the job, but it never got easier. There was nothing more they could do. As the nurses went to work clearing out the equipment, the surgeon braced himself to give Corban’s loved ones the bad news. As a high risk surgeon, he’d had to deliver this news before, and it was always the part of the job that he hated the most.

As they cleaned up, the anesthesiologist had a perplexed look on her face, “How could he have come out of that?”

Doctor Teach didn’t have an answer for her. He’d never seen anything like that before, “I have no idea. I can’t explain it, but he almost looked like he’d just won a fight.”

“Whatever it was… he actually seemed happy about it.”

Doctor Morgan left the OR, got cleaned up and headed out to the waiting room where Corban’s mother had been sitting with Janine for hours, waiting for news. It was late and the lights in the waiting room were dim. The lighting mixed with the plain colors of the walls provided anyone in the room a rather calm feeling. The dim light also provided the perfect vale for a pair of dark figures that stood in the corner, one male, and one female. Both were paying close attention to the scene that was about to unfold with Corban’s family. The male figure studied the facial expressions of Corban’s mother and Janine while the female one appeared to be completely disinterested. She preferred to hang back, leaning on the wall.

The quiet was quickly interrupted when doors to the OR slowly parted and the two doctors appeared at the entrance. The figures watched intently as Corban’s mother stood up with Janine holding her by the arm, “Well Doctor, did everything go okay? How is he? When can we see him?”

An apologetic look appeared on Doctor Morgan’s face as he shook his head, “I’m sorry…”

Corban’s mother went completely pale, “What? What are… no…”

Doctor Teach hesitantly took over, “I’m afraid he didn’t survive the procedure.”

The older woman looked away as tears streamed down her cheek, “Oh God… please not him. No… my baby…”

Janine’s eyes filled with tears, “No it can’t be true! He’s stronger than that… don’t you dare tell me he’s gone.”

Doctor Morgan opened his mouth to speak, knowing that nothing he could say would make this easier, but Janine cut him off, “Don’t you dare… he can’t be gone! It’s not true!”

Janine buried her head in her hands and sobbed as Corban’s mother looked up at Doctor Teach, tears continuing to flow from her eyes, “What happened?”

“I’m afraid we don’t really know, we were working to repair the hemorrhage and he was responding really well, but then he suddenly regained consciousness. He looked up with a big smile on his face, and then became lifeless. We have no idea how it happened. Our instruments were finely tuned before the procedure and our anesthesiologist double checked just to make sure. All attempts to resuscitate him failed. It’s like he didn’t want to be brought back.”

The female figure stepped forward and studied Corban’s mother. Though she still looked pale and was about to get sick, a small feeling of relief comforted her as she realized what had happened. She was barely able to speak and her words were little more than a whisper, but everyone was able to hear her, “He beat it… it cost him his life, but he freed himself of that… thing inside of him.”

Doctor Teach rubbed his hands together gently as spoke to Corban’s mother, “I’m really sorry that everything turned out this way. We do have on-sight counselors that are trained to help your loss… I could arrange for one to come by if you’d like to speak with them?”

Grief counselors. The female figure thought to herself. As if they’d do any good here.

“Mary, watch the younger woman.” The male figure said quietly to the female. “She’d known Corban since childhood and loved him for almost that long. Their relationship may have been on the rocks, but she still cared deeply for him.”

Mary moved closer, while careful to remain in the shadows, “Why all this interest in her, Mike?”

“I’ll explain later, for now she’s our best bet to learn more about Corban.”

From her vantage point, Mary could see Janine’s face. Though in pain herself, Janine was doing the best she could to comfort Corban’s mother and remain strong. She hugged the older woman and rubbed her arms, knowing that as bad as she felt, his mother had lost the last of her family.

Mary watched as Janine turned to the doctor. She was about to say something when Corban’s mother finally fought through her own pain and spoke up, “Did he suffer?”

It looked like Doctor Morgan was doing the best he could to sound certain, but the quiver in his voice made his words harder to believe, “No, I don’t believe so. He was heavily sedated, so it’s unlikely that he felt anything. As for the rest… well his suffering is over now.”

“He doesn’t know that.” Mary scoffed. “How could he?”

“Shh!” Mike scolded, trying to listen in.

Mary noticed a smile appear on his face as Corban’s mother collapsed back into Janine’s arms, “There was a lot of fight in that one. A lot of fight… this is very interesting.”

“It’s not every mortal human that can stand up to a demon as fierce as Adramelech.” Mary agreed. “Still, I think this is a really bad idea. He’s a possession victim. You remember what’s happened every other time, yeah?”

“This time will be different, I can feel it. Yes, I think he’ll do nicely.”

“You really came out of nowhere after four months of hiding to show me this? Did I really have to be here?”

“Yes. You’ve been with me the longest. I want your opinion.”

“Is that really what you want, or do you just want to hear me agree with you?”

“When has that ever happened?”

“Rarely.”

“So?”

Mary sighed, she knew that he was going to do whatever he wanted regardless of what she said, but at least she could voice her concerns, “He’s defiant, yeah? Short-sighted, and extremely jovial with the people around him. Those aren’t the qualities we need. Not to mention his powers could be dangerous! We have no idea what he’ll become!”

“I seem to recall thinking the same thing about you when I first pieced you back together, but you assured me that you wouldn’t disappoint, and in over a hundred years, you never have.”

“That’s different.”

“Is it really?”

Mary did not respond. She lowered her eyes and returned to her corner, defeated. Nothing she said was going to change Mike’s mind.

Mike’s smile widened as he turned his attention back to Corban’s family, “Yes… Yes I think he’ll do perfectly.”

Hope you enjoyed the first chapter. The rest of the book can be purchased here.

  • Series: The Vengeance Doctrine
  • Paperback: 520 pages
  • Publisher: James Harrington (April 7, 2016)
  • Language: English
  • ISBN-10: 0692608443
  • ISBN-13: 978-0692608449

Readers,

Do you have a question about writing, publishing, my stories, etc? Please feel free to post a comment or email me.
jimthewritingwizard@gmail.com
I’ll use those comments to select my next blog post.

I have been writing for several years, have 4 published works, experience with publishing and independent work, so I can hopefully be of assistance.
Please note, I only do one of these a day and will do my best to respond to everyone, but it may take some time.

Also, feel free to check out my works of Fantasy and Historical Fiction, Available on Amazon and where ever books are sold. See the link below:

http://www.amazon.com/James-Harrington/e/B00P7FBXTU

Thanks friends!
Catch you on the flip side!

-Jim

+

+ fantasy, Movie, Opinion, Science Fiction, Star Wars

Please, please, please, Rey Skywalker!!!

by Unknown's avatar

So after due consideration, I am flip-flopping faster than John Kerry! I no longer hope that Rey is a Palpatine. I am praying big time that she is the Skywalker we all think she is. Why?

 

Well it may be obvious, but it’s what really should be. The prime Star Wars stories all surround the Skywalkers, all the evidence points to her being a Skywalker… but beyond that, my reasons are very simple:
THE POTENTIAL CANONIZATION OF TWO OF MY FAVORITE JEDI:

Jedi 1: Mara Jade Skywalker12985391_1107081022688440_7056443068501184153_n

Why I want her to exist: Um… because she’s badass? Former Emperor’s hand, aggressive, noble, and just a really beloved character in the Star Wars Universe. The best books in the entire series involved her. She was a sort of counterbalance to Luke and it worked really well.

Why she can’t exist if Rey isn’t a Skywalker: Well… I suppose that there’s no rule against it. Though I get the feeling that if she’s not a Skywalker, that means that Disney decided to keep with the ‘tradition’ that Jedi do not marry… and Luke is to be the last of the Skywalkers.

Any Downside?
Aside from some serious recon? Well…skywalker-kenobi-or-solo-who-is-rey-s-father-luke-at-what-appears-to-be-a-tomb-stone-780920

Yeah pretty much. If she is to be canonized, it will most likely be well after  her death. Meaning that she’ll only appear in flashbacks… if we’re lucky.

Jedi 2: Celeste Morne
Able-Celeste-Karness

Why? 
… Do I even need to answer that? She is my favorite Jedi in the series. She’s incredibly badass, she has the power to transform the entire crew of a Star Destroyer into horrible monsters and she has a martyr complex. She sacrificed herself to a life of isolation in order to keep one of the most dangerous Sith lords ever imprisoned in her own mind. She existed this way for thousands of years, teetering between the light and the dark, completely alone in her struggles.

Why she can’t exist if Rey isn’t a Skywalker: The door to the KOTOR universe being canonized has already been opened with the confirmed existence of Malachor. So the potential is already there. However, in more modern times… no Rey Skywalker means no future Skywalkers… which means no Cade Skywalker. Without Cade, her story can’t come to a conclusion.

Any thoughts? Anyone else we’d like to see canonized? Let me know!

Readers,

Do you have a question about writing, publishing, my stories, etc? Please feel free to post a comment or email me.
jimthewritingwizard@gmail.com
I’ll use those comments to select my next blog post.

I have been writing for several years, have 4 published works, experience with publishing and independent work, so I can hopefully be of assistance.
Please note, I only do one of these a day and will do my best to respond to everyone, but it may take some time.

Also, feel free to check out my works of Fantasy and Historical Fiction, Available on Amazon and where ever books are sold. See the link below:

http://www.amazon.com/James-Harrington/e/B00P7FBXTU

Thanks friends!
Catch you on the flip side!

-Jim

+

+ Author, Book, Characters, fantasy, Fiction, literature, Urban Fantasy

Character Interview: Mary Jane Kelly

by Unknown's avatar

Hello all and welcome, once again, to ‘Character Interview.’ Today, we’ve got a very special… guest… actually the studio kind of forced this one on me. I guess that I should be thankful that the security at the door relieved her of all of her weapons. At least I hope they did… Anyway, ladies and gentlemen, Mary Jane Kelly.

Mary: Wait… what’s going on here? I thought I was going on a mission and the next thing I know, I’m frisked at the door and get all my blades taken away by a pair of burley fellows with extremely grabby hands! -Look boys, next one of you who tries to touch me will lose a hand, and it will be a lot more messy without my blades!

: Okay… well… Thank you for coming Mary, you’re here today to do an interview. I thought you were made aware of that backstage?

Mary: An… interview for what?

: For ‘Character Interviews’ we do this every once in a while to give your potential readers an idea of what to expect.

Mary: MY potential readers? What the f*** you are you talking about?

: Perhaps we can talk about that after the interview?

Mary: No, we’ll talk about it now!

: Okay, Mary, you’re a character in a story. Your story was recently published and we’re trying to get the word out about this. With your help, we can get your story told. If not… well then you may remain in the pages of a book.

Mary: Right… um… okay… been hitting the pub a little too much lately, have we?

: It’s up to you.

Mary: (Sigh) All right, fine… what the hell. I’ve already been felt up by your boys at the door. Might as well get some attention out of it. Just don’t expect me to get too personal.

:Wouldn’t dream of it. So, shall we get started?

Mary: Why not?

:Excellent, thank you! So Mary why don’t you tell us about yourself.

Mary: (Shrugs) I’m an Irish girl, I was murdered, resurrected and now I go around killing people. Lot’s of layers to me, yeah?

: Okay… anything else?

Mary: Listen buddy, if what you said really is true, and I don’t believe you for a second, but if it is, wouldn’t that amount to a little something called a spoiler?

: I stand corrected. All right then let’s focus on your job, what kind of people do you kill?

Mary: All kinds of people. I specialize in the evil. You know; the murderers, the rapists, the thieves, the liars, the adulterers, and the betrayers.

: I see… so what drives you to do such a thing?

Mary: Someone has to.

: What about the law?

Mary: What about it?

: Well… don’t these people deserve due process? Shouldn’t they be allowed to exercise their rights? What about the law of the land?

Mary: It really is all that simple to you people, yeah? Is that really justice, or is it a futile process that leaves the victims even more scarred and the bad guys with three square meals a day and most likely back on the streets within a few years? Think about it. You catch one of these bad guys and bring them to justice… what then? The laws of man are flawed and usually based off of ancient mythology and misguided values, or the whims of a select few who are typically detached from every day society. Consider what would have happened if the prosecutor wasn’t competent, or if the evidence were to be tampered with. What if witnesses were not reliable or the judge had a political agenda? What then?

: Well those things happen, but I can’t believe that it’s as common as you seem to think. I mean what about the notion that only God can judge?

Mary: You’re pretty naive, yeah? It’s nice to see that there are still some true believers in the world, but reality just doesn’t weigh that out. It happens more than you think. As for God… he had his chance, now it’s my turn?

: What about the idea that someone could forgiven? You’re killing these people without giving them a chance to repent and try to make up for what they did. How is that right?

Mary: Watch it, buddy! You take a look a little girl banged up and bruised to the point of being comatose because she said the wrong thing to a drugged up parent, THEN WE’LL TALK!!

: … I apologize. It’s not my place to judge I suppose. So is that all you do, hunt people down and make them pay for their crimes?

Mary: No that’s not all. I own a muscle car that I thoroughly enjoy driving around in. I also like a quiet night with a bottle of absinthe.

: Absinthe, huh? That’s pretty strong stuff.

Mary: Best in the business. I’ve still got a few bottles from my time in England.

: I thought you were Irish?

Mary: I am, but I moved to England for a while.

: How long did you stay there?

Mary: I’d rather not talk about my time in England, if you don’t mind. It’s… painful.

: Fair enough, so I understand you’re part of a team that goes out and seeks vengeance. Apparently each of you has different powers. What are yours?

Mary: Our powers are linked to the way we… well let’s just say that I’m the team assassin. I’m able to hide in the shadows, move super fast, and take out the bad guys with precision.

: Oh? what’s your weapon of choice?

Mary: I carry a small revolver on me at all times, but I never use it. I’m a blade girl. kodachis, daggers, machetes… pretty much anything sharp.

: I see. So anything else you’d like to tell us? Do you have any friends or family?

Mary: My team are my friends. That’s all.

: I see… well this is turning out to be quite an interesting interview. Unfortunately, we’re out of time. So thank you very much for taking the time to talk to us.

Mary: Eh… whatever.

: See you all next time!

Readers,

Do you have a question about writing, publishing, my stories, etc? Please feel free to post a comment or email me.
jimthewritingwizard@gmail.com
I’ll use those comments to select my next blog post.

I have been writing for several years, have 4 published works, experience with publishing and independent work, so I can hopefully be of assistance.
Please note, I only do one of these a day and will do my best to respond to everyone, but it may take some time.

Also, feel free to check out my works of Fantasy and Historical Fiction, Available on Amazon and where ever books are sold. See the link below:

http://www.amazon.com/James-Harrington/e/B00P7FBXTU

Thanks friends!
Catch you on the flip side!

-Jim

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