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Chapter One Part Two

The single candle barely lit the stone walls, but another unearthly light emanated from the bowl of water in the middle of the room. Frustration and anger floods through the shadowy figure standing over the bowl as his control over the body lessens. The bowl goes dark and the image of a wooden door, recently slammed, fades from the water. His control was gone.

The bowl smashes against the wall opposite the man. He watches the water travel down the stones as he seethes. A presence emerges from the corner behind him and his nostrils flare at the smell of decaying flowers. He turns to see the demon. Her wings stretch out behind her and the candle’s flame flickers. Something stirs inside him and like she had told him, he embraces the feeling of darkness. She saunters toward him and retracts her pockmarked wings.

“I sensed your anger,” she whispers.

“I can barely control the humans!” he all but shouts.

“You just need more time. To practice.” She drags her fingers around the edge of the table as she parades around it.

“I don’t have time,” he says.

“Yes, you do. The more time you waste trying to force your powers, the more you give yourself away. Practice in secret. Take all the time you need, and they will forget this little incident. When they forget is the time to strike.” She had made her way around the table and ran her fingers up his arm.

“Now, you need to relax,” she whispers in his ear.


I’m Back!!/ Chapter One Part One of Blood Slave

Hello everyone! So after months of wrangling four children and battling depression I am back! Seriously couldn’t be happier about this right now. It’s been a long road and my therapist and I have decided that keeping up with my blog is healthy for my mind. So here I am! 🙂

I’ve also decided that I’m narrowing down my blog topic(s). I’m strictly going to use this to essentially self-publish my book. It’s what I really want to work on right now. Anyway, here is Chapter One-Part One. Enjoy my friends. 😀

Chapter One

            Pre-dawn light filters through the sheer curtains of my master’s window. I lie on my mat in the corner adjacent to the window and wait as the shadows dissipate and the room comes into focus.

            I first see my master’s face, turned towards me and fully relaxed in sleep. I rarely see this side of him anymore, as his coronation approaches. He is so still I can barely see his chest move as he breathes. I think I might love him but even if I did nothing would come of it. Interbreeding is punishable by death. I should know, my parents died because of me.

            I was too young to remember the orphanage, but I still know I am different. I can feel it.  When I turned eight, three years after my master, I timidly asked his mother, the queen, where I came from. She didn’t hesitate to explain the whole truth of the matter. The Queen might be a callous woman, but her honesty and candidness are refreshing. She even said how she didn’t expect me to live very long but, the prince showed great self-control even as a child.

He is also different but not the same way as me. His selflessness is unheard of for a vampire and his generosity puts the humblest to shame. His kind see him as weak. I am not sure if it makes him weak or strong, but I know he will be a great leader. The Queen told me so.

The movement brings me back to reality. I lower my eyes in panic for fear of being caught staring and quickly get up to roll my thin mattress, tucking it to the side in a plain chest with my name clumsily carved on the inside of the lid. I pull out a pale pink dress with blue trimming. I smile sadly as I rub the silk between my fingers and think of my missing friend. Today will be the first day I won’t wear mourning colors.

I stand and tiptoe to the opposite corner and pull the dressing curtain closed. Slipping out of the nightgown, I pull the dress up and over my shoulders. I reach for the buttons in the back and just manage the bottom few, but the dress has become too tight. Suddenly I feel cold fingertips button the rest of my dress and settle on my shoulders.

“You know, Alana, when a dress gets too small most women throw it out,” my master whispers in my ear.

“Well, that usually applies to women of noble birth,” I reply softly.  I can feel the closeness of him, and it sends butterflies to my stomach. He chuckles in my ear and puts his hands on my arms.

“You are the closest any servant can get to being royal and still you don’t take advantage of it. Most would not have the severe restraint that you have with finery.”

He chuckles again and lets my arms go. I finally let out my breath I was apparently holding. I turn to look him in the eyes and then I remember my place and curtsy.

“Your highness, you are looking faint. Here your morning blood,” I say as I pull my tangled hair over one shoulder to expose my neck. I can’t see his face, but I see his chest rise and fall dramatically as he sighs.

“Yes, of course.”

I don’t know if it’s my imagination, but he has been acting strange lately. Almost reluctant to feed on me. Teasing me as if I’m not a servant but a noble woman. I’m not sure what to think about his behavior but I don’t dwell on the thought and step closer. I tilt my head to the side and wait for his teeth to pierce my skin. He leans in and the feel of his breath sends shivers down my spine.

“You can be so frustrating, Alana,” he whispers on my neck. I feel his lips brushing my skin and I chuckle nervously as he pulls me closer. Then ever so gently he bites. I don’t feel the blood rushing through me like I normally do, but a picture starts to form in my mind. I see bright sunshine in a clear blue sky. I hear waves crashing against the cliff and smell the salt in the air. I hold myself as a breeze chills me and I feel the roughness of peasant clothes on my skin. I close my eyes letting the beauty around me sink into my soul. Another breeze drifts through me and I start to shudder, but warm arms wrap around me and keep the chill at bay. I open my eyes and turn in the embrace to see my master. Nothing seems amiss but a small piece of the back of my mind is shocked. The warmth of his body is what tells me he’s human. I relax into him and revel in this new-found warmth of him. My prince in peasant clothes. This moment is all that matters, and this feeling of peace and comfort is foreign, but I relish in it.

My sigh of contentment is echoed at my neck. My eyes shoot open and the vision is gone. My master is still at my throat, but I don’t feel the pull of him drinking my blood.

“Master? Prince Luken? Are you alright?” I ask. The panic in my voice is obvious to me and I know it is not for my master’s well-being. He doesn’t say anything as he walks away and hands me a cloth to stop the bleeding. Usually he heals my wound to keep me from fainting, a trick he learned when we were both still very young, but I don’t blame him for walking away. I am just a halfbreed. I compose myself and push away the unusual feelings that had lingered from the vision. I have chores to do.

“I’ll prepare your bath, my lord.”

I walk to the washroom and turn the knob at the tub to start the hot water. Steam slowly drifts up and hits my face. The stark contrast of the steam to the cold breeze of the ocean hits me and the feelings start to rise but I push them back down. I must remain focused, but the image and touch of the prince are harder to push away. The slight pressure of his arms around me is almost tangible.

“The tub is filled enough, Alana.”

I jump and finally pay attention to what I’m doing. Turning off the water, I stand and leave the washroom. The door clicks behind me and I start making the prince’s bed. A faint smell tickles my nose as I move the sheets and blankets. It’s oddly pleasant. Wait, I can’t enjoy this smell. I am a servant. I am nothing more than a fly on the wall. Granted a very well-dressed fly but a fly, nonetheless. I pull the sheets up to the headboard and kick some pillows on the floor. The pillows suffer the brunt of my master’s tortured sleep. I pick them up and put them back on the bed. Satisfied with their placement I nod then hear a soft knock at the bed chamber’s door. I walk over, thinking it’s a kitchen maid with the breakfast tray, when a horrid odor drifts in under the door. I stop and almost plug my nose. Miraculously keeping myself from gagging, I crack open the door.

“Prince Luken, is indisposed at the moment… Lisia? What are you doing here? Where have you been?”

I’m shocked to see the kitchen maid, my friend. She is still missing as far as I know, and the stench is definitely coming from her. She doesn’t answer me but looks at the floor and just holds out the tray of food in her hands. Something isn’t right. I keep the door closed as much as possible and leverage my foot at the bottom of it. My hear beats quicken and my chest starts to tighten.

“Lisia, where have you been?” I repeat. She keeps her head down and tries to move into the room, using the tray as a barrier between her and the door.

“Lisia, why won’t you answer me? I won’t let you in until you answer me. Lisia. Lisia!”

She pushes harder and harder but I’m stronger and keep the door mostly closed.

“Lisia, what are you doing?” I all but yell.

“Alana, what is…”

Prince Luken emerges from the washroom with a cloud of steam behind him. He’s just in trousers but rushes to help me close the door from the onslaught of the kitchen maid. As the door slams shut, we hear the tray clatter followed by an unearthly scream. I’m breathing hard and my heart feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest. Tears burn my eyes and I slide to the ground as the sobs come. I realize now what the smell was: decaying flesh. I should have remembered from the time Prince Luken’s friend visited. He is a Lord in a neighboring city and his blood slaves are kept as trophies after they’ve been bled dry. He reeks of rotting flesh wherever he goes. NO one seems to notice it besides the guards but they’re lycanthropes. This Lord is my least favorite vampire, not that my opinion matters.

“My apologies, master, for not realizing the danger you were in,” I whisper, when I finally calm my sobbing.

“I’m not sure I understand,” he replies questioningly.

“Lisia, the kitchen maid, she… she’s dead…”

Shock and confusion cross his face before understanding sets in. He composes and nods to me in sadness.

“Master, how can she be dead and walking?” I ask, tears clinging to the corners of my eyes. Lisia was my friend. We used to pick wildflowers and make crowns when we were children. The memory pushes a fresh wave of tears down my face and another sob escapes my lips. A hand appears on my shoulder. The chill from his skin quickly seeps through the fabric of my dress, despite the warmth from the still steaming washroom. It somehow calms me. It also reminds me I have a job to do. I wipe the tears from my cheeks and chin, leaving my hands damp. The chill settles in my heart and a thin wall of ice builds.

“Excuse me, master, your bath needs draining.”

Before I leave, I lock the door just in case Lisia or whatever that thing was came back. I don’t get very far before I feel Prince Luken’s hand at my elbow.

“Alana, I know she is… was your friend and showing the loss you feel does not make you weak. It helps you to grow stronger. If you need the more mourning time, I will grant it without hesitation.”

His sincerity floods his eyes and as I let it flow over me, I feel a small door beginning to crack its way through the ice wall around my heart.

“Master, my mourning period ended this morning. I knew… Something in me knew she would not be found alive. I only wish she could rest in peace.”


Alana Character Description

Hello Readers! I’m back this week with another “short story”! Since this month is all about characters, I’m going to describe Alana in more detail. I know this may sound boring but hear me out. I’m going to do this:

I’m going to write these as scenes of dialog between characters. These two separate scenes will probably go in my book. Although they are starting out as very rough drafts on this blog. Seriously first time they will be written. So be nice. ?

            I’m going to start with Alana’s love interest, Ferrin. Then I’m going to write how one of the other female werewolves in Alana’s squad, which contains five soldiers that all share a sleeping space. I will post the negative view of Alana next week. Well here we goooo!

            Ferrin walked out of Alana’s room and down the hall, in search of the General.

            “General!”

            “Yes, Captain. If you could get a move on. My wife and I are getting ready to leave. Once Alana gets here.”

            “That’s what I want to talk to you about, sir,” Ferrin said.

            “Go on,” said the General with a raised eyebrow.

            “I want to come with you.”

            “And why would that be?”

            “Well… sir, I guess to keep an eye on her.”

            “Her? You mean Alana?” the General chuckles and raises an eyebrow at Ferrin. “Are you sure she really needs you to keep an eye on her?”

            Ferrin smiles and says, “Sir, we both know she doesn’t, but I still want to. She hasn’t talked to me since…”

            “The Midnight Run?”

            “Yes, sir. How did you know?”

            “Just a hunch, Captain. Tell me, Captain, what do you see in Alana?”

            “Sir?”

            “Just answer the question. Be as informal as you like. Ferrin.”

            “Well, I see her strength, but not just her physical strength. Her heart knows a lot of sadness and she still presses on. I know a lot of soldiers who would break under the weight she carries. Her smile is like that first ray of sunshine after a storm and her laugh reminds me of a raging river, loud and boisterous. Hem. Sorry sir I got carried away.”

            “It’s alright Ferrin. Thank you for your honesty,” said the General and clapping Ferrin on the shoulder. “Why don’t you get your bag and then we’ll check on Alana.”

            “Yes, Sir,” replied Ferrin with a smile.


Character Building

Hello Readers! So, this month I want to talk about building characters. If you are just looking for a questionnaire (or two) feel free to scroll to the end.

If you google “character traits” or “character questionnaire” there are a million different things that pop up. I’ve found doing a questionnaire is helpful to get the basics down, but I’ve also found that those answers change as I continue with the story. For example, in Blood Slave I honestly thought my main character would for sure have this one character as her love interest but as I wrote more it changed and honestly, I think it changed for the better. So, don’t get mad if something about your character naturally changes while you’re writing. Just make sure if it’s not something they learned that it is there throughout the whole book. Another thing that should stay the same throughout the book with your character is appearance.

Creating the appearance of your character is probably the most fun. If your talented at drawing, then draw that sucker. If you find a picture in a magazine or online that is what you want, use that. Heck make a creepy collage of different pictures if you want. If writing it out is easiest, write it out in excruciating detail what your character looks like. Then when you are writing you won’t want to throw their entire description into the first chapter, or when they are first introduced, and the appearance will naturally come out while writing.

It’s also important to think about where your character spends most of their time and how that affects their appearance. What is their job? My main character, Alana, at the beginning has pale skin and dark hair because she is always inside but later in the book, she is spending more time outside so her skin gets darker and her hair gets highlights/lighter. I remember seeing this physical change in my head when thinking about her in different scenes and it bugged me but then I realized as long as I didn’t make the change too drastic it would be believable.

Their personality should be believable too. Perfect heroes only sell in children’s books. I am most definitely not perfect, and I have yet to met someone who is perfect. Flaws/weaknesses should be part of your character but don’t force a flaw onto them. Write a scene with them in danger or in one of your own memories and see how they would act or react, good or bad.

Strengths are important too. You can’t have weaknesses without some strengths as well. I am a very good writer and I can articulate what I want to say in writing much easier than when actually speaking to someone. Alana on the other hand wasn’t taught much in the way of writing and can barely read what she does scratch out on paper. She is however good at speaking. She’s grown up in court and picked up all the lingo. Alana is kind and will go out of her way to help those around her, especially her friends. Some attributes can be learned or taught but really think who your character is at their core.

So, the basic questions you should answer about your character are:

  1. What does this character look like? Include gender, hair color, eye color, height, weight, if they wear makeup or not, etc.
  2. What job does this character have and how does it affect them/their appearance?
  3. What core traits make my character who they are?
  4. What role does this character play in the story? This could affect how detailed you go into their background.

Also another good website that has a little more detailed questions for your characters is https://www.somethingdelicious.co/2017/01/bullet-journal-writers-novel-character.html. She is talking about how to add characters to a bullet journal (which I love bullet journals) but you could add this to your notebook for your book or in a word document to save in your writing folder.

If you need some help with traits for your character here is a graphic with an extensive list. Happy character building and I will be back next week with a short story! ?