Writing Days -- An Excerpt from "Song of the Daystar"

It has been a very LONG time since I've posted a writing excerpt. :)  I thought it would be fun to start doing that again, especially since work on SOTD has started to pick up once more.

As many of you already know, I'm working on a new rewrite for SOTD... I started after I got the reply from the publisher who was looking at my manuscript.  They thought I had a good story concept, but they thought that I didn't do it justice.  It took me a couple months of setting SOTD aside before I realized that they were right and I decided to start fresh... same characters, improved concept, story, and writing.

That was about a year ago, and since then I've been in a long stall... only three new chapters were turned out in a whole year, and everything's been on hold since.  My love of writing never digressed, but suddenly it became so much easier to put it off, and put it off, until I really had no more good excuses... just the fact that I didn't want to do it right then.

(This will lead up to a new post on Procrastination, I'm thinking... perhaps I'll be able to get that up in a day or two. ^_^)

But last weekend I decided it was time to stop stalling.  I went back and read over the three chapters I had rewritten previously, and decided that the first chapter started a little too late into the story.  So I started writing a new first chapter... one that really does start at the beginning where it should, instead of jumping right into the action where everything has to be laid out and explained in back story and the like.  This chapter is much truer to what I envisioned the beginning of the story to look and sound like, and already it's made it easier for me to plan out the next few moves. (That was one problem I had with the other rewrite... I got to a point where I felt like I couldn't move forward because there was still too much to go back and explain. :P)

I was able to write 1,513 words for the new first chapter on Sunday, and now I'm going to share them with you. :)  Note that this excerpt ends in a rather odd place, since I truly have not had time to work on the piece until today.  I'm hoping to get more done on it this afternoon after I finish the 8 measure composition due tomorrow morning for my Music Theory class, and finish the errands that my mom has me running for.

Until then, though, here's what I have up to this point:

Chapter 1

The Boy with a Secret

            The stable was cold and steeped in darkness when Curron stepped in and drew the door shut behind him.  Soft nickers drifted out to him from the stalls, followed by several welcoming snorts.  Shivering from his early morning walk, Curron latched the door with his free hand and reached out to grab the old lantern from its post.  The cold metal handle bit into the palm of his skin sending tingles up his arms, and for the hundredth time Curron wished he could afford a set of gloves.  He tipped his candle to the lantern’s wick and warm light flooded the walkway before him.  Several long muzzles poked into the aisle and dark eyes glistened at him from the cubicles lining either side of the path.  

Holding the lantern out in front, Curron made his way to the back wall where the feed was barreled.  The horses shifted to follow his progress, snorting quiet greetings and stretching their noses over stall doors for him to fondle as he passed.  A few reached out and yanked his clothing with their teeth, asking after the wrinkled apples hidden in his pockets. 

Curron winced each time he heard the fibers of his shirt pop.  The mornings were growing colder as the autumn months progressed.  Sooner or later he’d have to ask Téagh for another set of clothes if he didn’t want to catch frostbite or worse in the winter months, and it was inevitable that Téagh would be annoyed.  Téagh was annoyed at most things.  Only two winters had passed since the last time the old stable master had bartered a boy’s shirt and leggings off a servant for Curron’s sake.  The clothes had been too big for Curron then, at only twelve, but now the pants were up to his shins and the shirt stretched taught over his back.  He was afraid that someday soon the shirt might rip open, leaving him in nothing but his trousers and his skin.  Then how would he manage through winter? 

At the back of the barn, he hung the lantern on the nail protruding above the grain bins, picked up the pitchfork leaning against the wall, and turned back to his charges.  Cold and dark as it was, it was still worth rising before dawn each day to spend time alone in the stables.  It was the one place he was free to be entirely himself, the one place he could escape his nightmares. Horses always listened and were never judgmental; they didn’t care if you were a prince or a pauper, so long as they were treated with kindness and respect.  Which was good since Curron was far from princely.

“Alright then,” he said to no one in particular. “Who’s hungry?”  Grabbing up a fistful of oats from the nearest barrel, he approached the first stall and held his arm out to the occupant.  “How about you, Nathahl?” he crooned.  “Is your belly sticking to your ribs yet?”

Large dark eyes winked out at Curron from the shadows of the stall.  Several moments later the eyes drew nearer and a warm, velvety nose found its way into his palm to lip timidly at the grains.      

Calm flooded Curron’s senses at the familiar touch, easing the worry that still lingered from his bad dreams.  Setting the pitchfork against the stall door, he reached up, threaded his fingers through Nathahl’s dark mane, and sighed.  The horse’s warmth seeped into his cold hands and up through his shivering arms.  His muscles relaxed as the heat spread to his shoulders and rolled through his back. To Curron, there was nothing so consoling as the feel and smell of horse.  His charges were like family. 

It was humans who were strange, even if he must count himself among them.

            Curron closed his eyes and leaned forward, pressing his head against the small white star on the bridge of Nathahl’s nose, allowing his emotions to uncoil.  The Black knew of his dreams, of course; it wasn’t something Curron could hide from him.   The nightmares had been growing steadily worse, and Nathahl sensed them as deeply as Curron did.  He often woke hours before dawn now, panting and sweating through his bedclothes though the hearth’s fire had long since retreated into the coals and the room was cold and still.  Several months before, in a rare moment of visible concern, Téagh had insisted Curron visit the Fort Infirmary, but none of the Healers’ treatments improved the dreams or eased his sleep. Commander Olan had berated him for valuable time lost. 

Curron breathed in deep and let his mind brushed against Nathahl’s consciousness, light and airy as the tips of feathers.  The thoughts and feelings of the other horses crowded forward, eager to comfort him, eager to grab his attention, but he didn’t immerse himself.  Not this time.  He touched each of their minds and gave them all one order.

Be still.  You will get your turns in a bit.

Their wild blood pressed against the boundaries of his command, but he shielded his thoughts from them.  They were wild, yes, but he was strong… thanks to Nathahl’s guidance.  If Commander Olan ever discovered his secret, it might be the death of him, but the Black had taught him well.  Nathahl humbly shook his neck as Curron let his thanks touch the Black’s mind.  He nipped the cuff of Curron’s sleeve and nickered softly in his ear.

 Curron had no idea how long he’d been standing like that – an hour, maybe, or a few minutes – when a draft of cold air broke his concentration.  Nathahl snorted uneasily, stamping a hoof to the ground.  Curron opened his eyes and the Black jerked its head away.  The horse grunted at something over Curron’s shoulder and pranced back into the shadows of its stall.

SCREEEE!!!

            The sound erupted from nowhere and echoed through the rafters, rending the silence in two and sending the rest of the horses into frenzy.  Curron spun around, stretching out his mind to quiet them.  He caught snatches of their thoughts and his muscles tensed.

            Stranger! they warned.  Predator.  Bloodlust. 

            Unnatural.  

            Curron’s eyes skimmed the shadows for danger as he moved down the line, placing his hand on each horse’s muzzle to calm it.  He’d never seen them so uneasy before; not in their own stalls, not while he was near.  Their minds resisted him until finally he had to force his way in between the cracks of their fears and compel comforting thoughts to take the place of terror.  It was no easy task.  By the time he reached the end of the stalls, his chest hurt and he felt like he hadn’t slept in a week.  

            He turned back toward the lantern and the pitchfork he’d left leaning against Nathahl’s stall.  It seemed so far away now, but if he finished his work quickly, maybe he’d still have an hour or two to rest before Téagh was up and yelling for him.  He took a step forward, sagged against a support beam, and yelped as a large rust-colored bird swooped down over his shoulder, missing him by inches. It lifted into the rafters and stared down at him with golden predatory eyes as if unsure what it wanted to do with him.

            “Now that’s some trick you’ve got there,” a deep, rich voice commented from somewhere behind him. 

            Curron spun, searching the shadows for the source of the voice.  His eyes roved over the cubicles one by one, but found nothing.  The lantern’s light, once offering warmth and comfort, now splayed across the floor in a pitiful pool of insipid gold reflecting like flames in the eyes of the raptor perched aloft.      

            “The horses,” the voice explained, “They respond to you like none I’ve seen.  ‘Tis a rare talent, that.  A pity it’s wasted in such a place as this.  But then again, Olan never was one to recognize ability.” 

A dark figure pealed itself away from one shadowed corner and stepped forward.  It had a slight frame draped in the dark billows of a traveler’s cloak with the hood pulled up to hide most of its features.  Only the lower part of its face was completely visible, dark ginger stubble shadowing its chin and upper lip.  A twinkle of eyes glimmered out at Curron from the darkness beneath the hood, assessing him, judging him…

Curron glanced up as the hawk warbled a few curious notes and tilted its head at him.  It followed his movements closely, shuffling back and forth on its post, its talons scratching along the beams. 

The stranger tipped his head back to follow Curron’s gaze.  “Ah,” he said.  “That’s just Aigneis.  You needn’t fear her, if that’s what you’re so anxious about.  She’ll fight like the guardians of Grimwryld themselves if I ask her, and she’s got a call to chill the blood, but she won’t attack without incentive.”  He lifted an arm and the hawk screeched again, spreading its wings and drifting down to alight on its master’s shoulder.  

Journaling and “The Candlestone”

Not a very exciting title but it pretty much sums this post up.  I have SO MUCH I want to talk about and there’s no way I’ll fit it all in this one post.  Actually, I should have tried to post this at least a week ago, but I’ve been having some troubles with my internet connection.  And as all of you know, if you can’t get on the internet, there’s no way you can blog. ;’(

To start out, many good things have been happening recently, first and foremost that I finally beat that dratted slum in SOTD.  The opening for Chapter 3 has been driving me insane for near on 2 months (way too long) and I finally figured out what was going wrong last Thursday.  Since then, the slum has cleared up for the most part, which opens a world of possibilities that I can’t wait to explore.  It’s about time too; this rewrite has been giving me headaches.  I’m not sure why it’s being so difficult, but I know that all the trouble will be so worth it when I’m through.  Not to sound too bold or anything, but believe me when I say that this is going to be EPIC! :D

I’m also designing and sewing a new medieval dress.  I can’t wait to see it finished!  I’m using a pattern for the most basic structure of the over-gown, but I’m also completely re-designing the dress so that at least half of the pattern won’t even be relevant by the time I’m through with it.  My hope is to have the finished dress made (at least somewhat) “Period” with a slightly new design.  I’m researching the details for the piece.  There are many things to ask myself: like, would it be alright to use a long, decorative chemise as an under-gown, or should I make a supportive kirtle?  (The downside of the kirtle being that I will also need a chemise for the sleeves, and the overlapping layers will make the dress uncomfortably hot by the end of July…)  I also have to wonder how one constructs an over-gown with a supportive bodice and how one might alter a pattern in order to gain such a bodice.  And should I have the back of the over-gown lace up instead of installing the much more efficient zipper?  Then if I do decide to lace up the back, should I make the eyelets myself or use metal rivets?  You know… petty things like that.  To make the dress as close to period as possible, the answers are actually staring me right in the face, but some of you know how it can be – should one choose convenience for speed, or time over contemporary?

One thing is certain, though: I will not be sewing the dress by hand.  There’s no time for that.  I would love to, but when it comes down to it, I want to have this piece finished in 3 to four weeks and a machine is much faster and (in my opinion) sturdier than what I could do by hand.  Someday though… someday I vow to complete a medieval gown with only the stitches pushed through by my own fingers, but until then… *sigh*  Oh well.  I’ll just have to make up for it by adding the decorative embroidery and beading by hand. ^_^  In the end, the dress promises to be beautiful.  If I had a sketch here with me I would post it, but I guess you’re just going to have to wait to see the finished piece too. Too bad.  Mwahahaha! ;)

And now to the moment you’ve all been waiting for… the actual book review.  Be warned: there are definite spoilers ahead.

The book I’m reviewing is “The Candlestone” by Bryan Davis.

In the book, Billy and Bonnie, two half-dragon children bestowed with dragon gifts (Billy has fire breath and Bonny has wings) are once again faced with the threat of an evil pursuing their kind since the time of King Arthur.  What had seemed to be the happy ending of their last, life threatening adventure is suddenly shattered when Bonnie’s father returns and says that her mother, whom she thought was dead, is calling for Bonnie to come and save her.  Fearing for her mother’s life, Bonnie goes with her father back to Montana where her mother is said to be, but the knowledge of her father’s past deeds against her and her mother have Bonnie continually waiting on the edge of her seat for something to go wrong.

Meanwhile, Billy, his professor, and his best friend think there’s something shady about Bonnie’s father.  Bonnie already told them some of what went on while she and her mother were still with her father, so having Bonnie’s dad show up right before Bonnie is about to be adopted seems a little fishy.  However, the law says that Bonnie’s dad has the right to claim her since there’s no real proof that he did what Bonnie says he did and since she’s underage.  Unable to prevent Bonnie from going, Billy and his friends seek the help of Billy’s father and start researching the secrets of a mysterious book believed to be Merlin’s journal.  Along the way, they discover something about Bonnie’s father and the strange Candlestone that seems to draw the strength away from anyone of dragon descent.  In their first adventure, Devin the Dragon Slayer and self-proclaimed knight had used the Candlestone to weaken the children in order to overpower them, but then Devin disappeared.  Now Billy discovers that the Candlestone does more than just draw light to it… it also captures souls.  With no way to escape, some of the souls have been trapped there for centuries with no way to get out, and now Devin has joined them… and he wants OUT.  Billy is afraid that Bonnie might be in much more trouble than she ever could have guessed, and so he sets out to save her.

Pros:

Well, as you might be able to tell by my summary, this book’s plot is rather complicated.  Which is a good thing.  I love complicated plots; they allow me to keep guessing throughout the entire story, and then they surprise me.  However, I tend to be a somewhat impatient reader.  When I get interested in one person’s story and then the POV changes, I can get frustrated.  Since there are two sides of the story that need to be told in this book, and since they need to be told in two different places at the same time, the POV changes frequently.  And so, me being the impatient person that I am, I kept skipping ahead; I read through Bonnie’s side of the story clear to the end, then I went back and read through Billy’s side.  This is not the ideal way to read a book, it’s true – I don’t actually recommend doing it – but I just couldn’t help myself!  I became so enthralled with Bonnie’s story right off the bat that I just had to know what was going to happen to her next and I couldn’t wait to find out.  I certainly commend Mr. Davis for his ability to captivate a reader.  If his books tend to be a little over-complicated, they make up for it by being mesmerizing.

 Also, as much as I enjoyed the first book, I felt like the characters were much more developed in this book.  In the first book, the characters felt realistic and developed, but somehow Mr. Davis was able to delve deeper into their personalities and pull out the best of them in the Candlestone.  Secrets are revealed, fears realized, revelations understood… the characters are so colorful you almost wouldn’t need the vivid scenery that accompanies them, but Mr. Davis goes ahead and gives it to us anyway.  His prose are spectacular.  I definitely walked away from this book with a few new ideas in my head.  I can’t wait to put them to use.

Cons:

There weren’t many problems that stood out to me, but I still wanted to give a well-rounded review, so I started to nit-pick.  As much as I love complicated plots, perhaps Mr. Davis is TOO good at what he does.  I did find myself having some trouble keeping track of certain elements that were important later in the story.  For someone who struggles with following some storylines (like my sister) this could end up being a serious problem.

Also, as much as I loved the character development, I felt like Bonnie’s character seemed too naive in places.  Something that Bonnie didn’t understand in the development of the story would seem obvious to me, so I became slightly annoyed at her ignorance.  And to defer claims that I understood things better because I was reading both Billy and Bonnie’s side of the story at once, I must remind people that I read Bonnie’s story first, all the way through to the end, and that it was only after I finished reading Bonnie’s story did I go back to read Billy’s story.

My Overall thoughts:

I think it’s pretty clear.  I liked the book.  A lot.  And I can’t wait to get my hands on the third one.  Any peevish thorns that nibbled at my enjoyment were easily overlooked in light of the book's thrilling content.  Nit-picking doesn't hold a candle to all this book has going for it.

I think I’ll give this book a 5 out of 5.  So worth the read.

(I received this book on the 13^th of June from AMG publishers.  I was not required to give a positive review.  The thoughts and views of this book review are completely my own.)

Change Can Be A Good Thing...

You know, writing this post was an interesting experience.

"Forest Bridge" representing "A Bridge of Change" (for this blog
picture found at: www.planetshu.deviantart.com

For one thing, by last post was about "change", and I asked everyone what they thought of changing the look around "The Pen and Parchment" which had looked the same since I started blogging in April.  Well, as you can see, I've started working out the changes around here: new header, new background, and I'm thinking about changing my blog button... as well as drastically shortening my posts.  (Yes, I've gone back through the posts of last year.  And MY WORD, you guys!  I sure was long winded!)

The second reason it was interesting to write this post is that "change" was what the sermon was about at my church this morning... physical and spiritual change.  Last week the pastor challenged the congregation to get physically fit by June, and to continue (always) to work on their spiritual relationship with God.  Before this challenge I had already decided to challenge myself to loose the weight I need to before summer.  I've been loosing slowly, but it's time to kick my butt in gear and crack down.  And what better time to commit to change than at the beginning of a new year?  (Yes, I said "commit"... I've vowed that this resolution won't end up half-finished.  However, the subject of commitment requires a different post.)

But you see, even that last reason isn't the one I chose to write this post about.  No, this post is about change in your novel - or my novel, as the case stands.

You remember my "finished" manuscript, Song of the Daystar?    Well... the hard truth is that a book is never really "finished" until it is on the printing press and the author has no way to get in and change things.

And before you ask, Yes SOTD is still under submission: no, I haven't gotten word of whether it is accepted or rejected yet.

But... I was blessed with a truly insightful beta reader since submitting SOTD who has pointed out a few serious character inconsistencies at the beginning of what once was considered the "finished" version of my manuscript.  And she has also kept my imagination fed when my pool of inspiration has grown stagnant from lack of ideas.  This beta reader is Adele Treskillard, and I would just like to take a moment to sincerely thank her for all her help.

Thanks Adele!!! :D

She's really great.

However, to fix these inconsistencies, the entire beginning (about 6-8 chapters worth) has be rewritten with a different premise.  And to do this correctly, at least three characters have to go.  They just aren't important enough and can be replaced by characters who are stronger and better for the roll.

Does this hurt?  Well... maybe.  It hurts my heart just a little to think of cutting and changing so much.  But it doesn't hurt the novel at all; instead it makes it stronger.  And, to be completely honest with myself and you readers, I'm really excited about these changes.  Totally stoked, in fact.  I haven't felt this ready to write since October... (November doesn't count: as soon as I sat down to do Nano, all my ideas flew out the window.)

So... *pours self and blog-followers an invisible drink of nonalcoholic white grape fizzy drink*... Here's to change in the New Year... change of all types, shapes, colors, textures, sounds, and mice... er, price.  (hehe!)

*clinks glass and gulps fizzy white grape drink down*

Ah!  So much better... now I can move on.  :D

Nano Excerpt -- finally!!!

Well, I've been slowly plugging away at Nanowrimo: I doubt I'll make it to the end though.  But, I did promise myself that as soon as I finished the scene I was working on (the one I got horribly stuck on and couldn't figure out what to do with it) I would post it here for you guys to see that, yes, I have been at least trying.  lol.

So anyway, currently I'm stuck without my main word program, but I found another one that works alright; at least I can open documents until I get my other program installed.  This scene fits somewhere in the middle of chapter two and it's from one of my villains' point of views.  It comes right after my MC and supporting characters escape their farm where my evil character is lurking in their yard looking for them.  I'm actually much farther in the rewrite than chapter two, but sometimes you just have to stop and go back.  :)

So, without further ado, I give you MY NEW SCENE!  :D



  The smell of sweat; the echo of pounding feet growing farther and farther away; the faint pulse of quickened heartbeats throbbing in the air… 

And fear. 

Lots of fear. 

Vúrhaugh breathed deep, licking the corner of his mouth, and closed his eyes. So sweet; so intoxicating… He’d almost forgotten how it tasted, it’d been so long. He smiled, allowing the aroma to permeate his senses, and glanced down at the footprints beaten into the dirt. Three sets, crisscrossing back and forth over each other. One large set, two smaller. 

The Grohnjiem yanked its chain, wrenching his concentration. Vúrhaugh growled. He kicked the fiend in the back legs and wrapped the chain a second time around his hands. “You’ll get your chance, you Guldakh beast! Heel!” The creature snarled, flames flashing from his maw. Vúrhaugh spit and bared his teeth. His eyes glowed a dangerous red. The fire died in the Grohnjiem’s throat. It glared at him and sat down on its haunches, beating its tail impatiently against the ground. 

Vúrhaugh lifted his head, closed his eyes, and breathed in deep. His mind cleared. Slowly, the night noises faded into oblivion, leaving only the faint sounds of his prey. His nostrils flared, working through the information mingling in his nose. Three, yes: an older man, a young girl, and a boy just reaching manhood. The fear from the girl was strongest. Her every breath, the beat of her heart, and each movement secreted pure terror. The boy’s bravado was only feigned, a mask to hide the panic in his chest. Vúrhaugh scowled. Pathetic. 

And then the man… The man was curious. Vúrhaugh focused his senses, concentrating only on the man’s scent and what little sound of him the night offered. The man was running, but he was trying to be silent and, for the most part, was succeeding. He was frightened but… how strange; he wasn’t frightened for himself. His strides were long: he was a tall man… 

Information bombarded Vúrhaugh’s senses, creating a picture in his mind. The man was mature, but not old. Strong. Well built. He ran, but did not breathe hard: experienced then – a warrior? Perhaps. 

And then a new scent fused the air, sweet and pure. It came like death to Vúrhaugh’s nose. His brow creased and he pulled back. This was not normal. Humans did not have that scent. He freed a tendril of his mind and sent it out before him. Out over the field it went, weaving between plants, bumping over earthen knolls and exposed tree roots. The resonating echo of footfalls came back to him, louder now… much louder. And the frightened breaths were like wind through a cave. 

So, they weren’t being nearly as silent as they thought they were. 

He pushed the tendril onward until it brushed against the man’s leg, then climbed to his waist, up over his shoulder, and finally caressed the back of his neck. Vúrhaugh smiled. The probe nudged the base of the man’s head, seeking a way in. Human skin was fragile and not resilient to mental probes. It would soon find an entrance… 

The man’s head snapped up. 

Pain erupted in Vúrhaugh’s head. He gasped and fell back on the ground. There was no way the man could have seen him and yet… Lightning flashed behind his eyes. A power stronger than his forced the probe back, pounding it into his skull like a nail driven by a hammer. Darkness crowded his vision and for a moment, a set of angry silver eyes flared into existence. 

Then they disappeared. 

Vúrhaugh sat up and looked again at the large imprints in the dust. By all appearance they were normal human footprints, but Vúrhaugh bared his fangs at them and spit. No doubt lingered in his mind now; the man was Awet. 

Vúrhaugh glanced at the Gronjiem, now pacing at the end of its chain. It snarled at him, but he ignored it, lost deep in thought. Humans weren’t supposed to go Awet – they weren’t built for it. To be Awet was to be subdued by the thoughts and minds of others and it took great will-power to remain sane under such a weight.  When Humans gained such abilities, they either grew heady with the power and eventually destroyed themselves, or they tried to hide their gift and crumbled under the burden… 

Or they weren’t human. 

Vúrhaugh stood and pulled the Gronjiem closer by the chain. It snarled but he gave the chain a good yank and the beast fell still. Vúrhaugh’s fingers brushed over the clasp that locked the chain to the creature’s collar. It glared at him, slight interest flickering in its fire-red eyes. 

“Find them,” he whispered, “but do not hurt them yet. Search out the truth behind the guardian’s facade. Then return to me.” His fingers moved and the clasp fell away. The wolf shot off into the field, as silent as a shadow. 

Vúrhaugh straightened and turned back to the farm. Suspicion nagged at the back of his mind and he knew he couldn’t ignore it.  The Prizes were being guarded and the enemy was powerful; Gorakk would not be pleased. 

Update on my Craziness...

Well, it's Friday.  And I now have my Lappy back with at least most of the data in tact!  Thank you Mark!  I have to pay you, it's true... but it is indeed very worth it: your really saved my hide... really, really.  :D

But there is one small problem... that being that I have to reinstall Microsoft Word and a hand-full of other programs, and because of that I must postpone my "Voyage of the Dawntreader" movie review until at least tomorrow.  Without "Word", I'm still wondering if all my documents came back entirely, and I'll never be able to sit down, rest, and write a review until I know for sure.  And I won't be able to know for sure until tonight when I get home and have time to install the program.

So...

This has been a very crazy week and I thank you all for being so patient with me!  And thank you so much for all your prayers!!!  I didn't get around to turning this week into "Narnia Week", like I thought I was going to do.  And so I've decided to make next week "Narnia Week" instead, now that I have my computer back and can really get moving on the articles I have in mind.  And instead of closing out the week with the movie review, how's about we open it with the review?  Yeah... yeah, that sounds good.

So if the review isn't up yet tomorrow, plan on it being there on Monday.

In the mean time, please vote for your favorite third place winner in "The Amazing First Chapter Contest".  Looks like one of the stories is pulling ahead... but the other isn't too far behind.  :D  We wouldn't want another tie, so vote, vote, vote!!!

Mwahahahahahahah!!!! *cough, cough... straightens*  Yeah.

Thanks again for all the prayers.  I should be back in full throttle on Monday!  *waves*

Nichole