Broken Promise

They announced the winners. Don’t think AJ will be printed in their little trophy anthology so we are going to throw it out to you. There is a possible few more parts we could write to this. Though AJ isn’t sure.

Here is a story about my mother’s origin story.

A white puff of air left his lips in silence. A thick net of branches obscured the stars above. The moonlight cast an eerie glow in the shadows on the fallen snow. Michael looked up; the moon waxed just past full. The third and final day to find Bobby Cox.

Michael Donovan tracked sunken paw prints through the backwater mountains near Pagoda Peak. A branch snapped in the darkness, followed by a low rumble. His prey was nearby.

Michael turned towards the sound, but a large, shadowed form pounced on him from the side and they both tumbled to the frozen ground. Snow crunched underneath them.

“Why, Hello Bobby Cox.” Michael taunted between breaths. His heart pounded in his chest. Michael fought to keep the jowls of the larger-than-normal wolf from his throat — any bite could kill, Michael reminded himself, remain vigilant. Slobber dripped from the creature’s fangs as it towered above him. Michael’s shotgun, the only barrier, kept the supernatural strength of the werewolf’s jaws from snapping his neck in half. His arms shook with the strain.

Michael summoned his own supernatural strength. The power flowed through his veins, and he rolled the two of them across the snow-covered land. The momentum of the roll carried the wolf into a tree with a blood-curdling snap and squelch of flesh. It yowled in pain, but the impact didn’t kill the former man. It ran off at neck-breaking speed and vanished into the darkness. Dark spots of blood trailed in its wake. 

Michael’s chest heaved with exertion. He patted his arms and legs through padded gloves, checking for any bites or scratches on his person before he dove off into the woods after the beast. In the moon’s light, the drops of blood glimmered in the night like sick rubies on a silk curtain. Michael followed the foul creature at superhuman speed, but it remained out of sight in the distance ahead. 

Michael crashed through trees and bushes. The snow fell to the ground in giant plops as the branches snapped back into place.

Screams rang through the night air like banshees. Michael ran faster. 

A strange buzz filled the air, and Michael shivered as it ran across his exposed skin. Something else watched, but the screams drew Michael onward.

Panting, he broke into a clearing. A lonely cabin stood in the center. A man ran towards the hulking beast with only a stick for a weapon. The wolf’s enormous jaw clamped down on the man’s shoulder. He screamed in pain. The creature flung him into a nearby tree like he weighed nothing. The beast continued his path towards the weak and easy prey.

Bobby Cox’s four-legged form towered over a mother huddled over two small children. One of the small girls, the one with mouse-colored hair, bolted away from her mother. Both Michael and the wolf moved in unison. But the creature reached the fleeing child first. His enormous mouth engulfed her shoulder, grabbing her. The little girl’s scream rang into the night.

The woman threw stones to distract the beast. The other child clung to her mother’s legs. Bobby Cox flung the captured girl into the forest, his attention on the child’s mother.

Michael took three steps, but the werewolf was faster. A giant paw side-swiped the woman, and she flew into a tree with a loud crack and squelching of flesh splattering. The werewolf’s claws sliced the girl from stem to stern with the same swipe. 

Michael aimed his shotgun and fired. And with a second shake of the loading mechanism, he was firing the second shot before the first was even a meter away.

The first round of silver pellets scattered across the werewolf’s back. The burning flesh hissed as Bobby Cox turned and charged at Michael. The second shot scattered across the face of the werewolf at point blank range. The creature’s momentum carried its fallen form into Michael. The pair tumbled to the forest floor into a bank of snow. 

Michael shoved the dead weight of the creature off his body. A small whimper in the frozen bank pulled Michael’s attention. A tiny girl bled from the shoulder. She didn’t cry. Michael offered her a small smile. She reminded him of his son. He was about her age.  

“Everything will be alright.” He stood up and offered his hand. “Come with me.”  

She looked back at the cabin in the clearing, a weighted look cast in her eyes, but she took his hand, wincing in pain as she stood up. A look of fury came over her as she looked down at the creature. She kicked the fallen form with her tiny foot. The creature’s body didn’t budge, and it only fueled the little girl’s rage as she kicked it again and again. 

Michael pulled the child into his arms and carried her away. The fury still raging in her tiny body, but she stilled as they walked away. 

“What’s your name?” Michael asked. 

“LeeAnn,” she whispered, “I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.” 

“My name is Michael. I’m not a stranger, anymore.” Michael said, “I’m going to take care of you from now on. Nothing like this will ever happen to you again. I promise.”

Happy Birthday To me

So today is my birthday! In 2021 I will be 29…. I’m almost 30… holy fuck I’m getting old.

AJ doesn’t have any story to share with you.

But she did make me a play list with songs that mean something to me. And it’s an open collaboration. If you have a spotify account you could add to it too. If you were so inclined. Not necessary but you are welcome to add songs that remind you of me. Not that any of you think of me outside of my blog reading I’m sure. Not like AJ.

Open for collaboration

I’m sorry for going awol for a week or more. Once I missed one it was easy to miss more. And AJ was busying playing Mass Effect (and is still and replaying again to get the right ending) I will probably be awol for a while. AJ’s editing. July she aims to finish the rewrite/edit we are working on. That’s the goal. It will change the story a bit. And My Devastated Heart has actually become cannon and has changed the story up a bit. So a rewrite of book 2 will likely happen. And that means 3 and 4 are likely to change too. But hopefully only edits and rewrites and adding things and not a whole new start from scratch. That’s the goal anyway.

Genetic Disposition

There is something to say about genetic disposition. My mother is human, my father is Venatori. I am thereby called Minorem — Lesser than Venatori. But my mother is also wiccan — part of a coven whose genetic lines produce various different outcomes. Mother’s line is called Gemini — every birth is twin, born on the cusp of a zodiac at the changing of the day. So essentially I’m Cancer by only a few minutes. And Lucy is Gemini (ironically). Hunter is Pisces and Cass is Aquarius. Laker is Aquarius and Rider is Capricorn. My mother was a twin and her sister died when the wolf attacked them.

As a side note, AJ had to research the zodiacs to try and nail down Lake and Rider’s birthdates — January 19/20th.

Not the Center!

Today you are getting a very late post because I am not the center of AJ’s world today *pouts*

This morning she played Mass Effect 2 and forgot all about my post!

But she did manage to edit a few paragraphs of TELLING into better showing, there might still be a sentence of two of telling but we’ll see how it all works out in the end.

AJ is really focusing on the MRUs as she writes these new scenes and while editing the new plot layout. It’s helping with the showing v telling actually because AJ has to think about the sentences and if they are External motivation or internal reactions and if they don’t fit it can be telling.


This is an interesting sensation — sense deprivation ie: submerging yourself in a vat of water. Doesn’t have to be for any other reason other than to calm down. AJ does this on migraine days. Fills the tub with water and submerges her head. It’s not complete sense as you can still touch and smell. Put on a blind fold though and you’ve got 2 of the three. And those are the ones that mess with the migraine most.

It’s also a good bedroom activity. Though I’m not going to get into that here. But needless to say it’s fun.

I could be mean and deprive you of my great self, but the whole point of this blog is to let me ramble at things. So I’ll ramble a little more.

Though about what I don’t know. I was in the middle of saying something when the program just spazzed out and erased a paragraph and we have no idea what we were going on about… le sigh.

Anyway, I’m out for now. I’ll maybe remember what I was going to say later.