A Glimpse of What’s to Come

After The Wanderer Trilogy, I plan on writing a compilation of short stories. I will be working on it from time to time, but I plan on being meticulous in how I write these stories. Here is just a taste of the very beginning. Do you plan on reading this? 🙂


shadow people



Contained in the bending of this book are the extensive and detailed notes of Edward L. Sutton, Independent Journalist and Author. Obsession – the reality of ‘mythical’ beings, particularly ones he dubbed Omens of Change. Current state of Mr. Sutton – deceased. I am just an interviewee.

When he finally spoke to me, I warned him not to publish this. The Others. They told me that they would kill him if he did anything more than speak to the Chosen. And they did just that. To be clear, I wish to remain anonymous for fear of what the world will think after they read this. That is, if they choose to believe it.

You see, the world is crumbling. Humanity is weak and afraid. They commit unspeakable crimes against one another. Hate speech, assault, rape, and murder run rampant. And yet, we live in our subdivisions and follow our own monotonous routine, caring little of the suffering of others. Still, we occasionally find ourselves pulled from the mundane and out of our comfort zone. Usually, it is within the unconscious mind. We remember these experiences. And you may believe these are nothing more than a coincidence. I am here to tell you that the concept of chance is more of a myth than these creatures.

My warning is this, dear reader, be vigilant. Once you dive into the contents of this book, there is no turning back. You will know more about the universe than you may want to. And sometimes, the truth is terrifying. I guarantee you that these stories are nothing short of that. Many of you will not be able to stomach what you find within these pages. Clarity is a risk. But it is what you do with this information that will determine your fate. The Others, they will be watching. And if you displease them, they will come for you.

Pray to whatever deity that they NEVER come for you.

Although, you could have already met these creatures before. Perhaps you were already deemed one of the Chosen, but do not yet understand what that means. That, my brothers and sisters, is why I am allowing this book out into the public. To finish Edward L. Sutton’s work. His single goal was to unite all of those who have sensed the Omens. Nonetheless, he did make it relatively convenient for us to find one another through his writings. Tales that will outline different events that you may have witnessed. If so, follow the trail, allow the Other to contact to you however they wish, and find the rest of us.

They are waiting. So am I.


Back to the Writing Prompts!

writing prompt

“Even canned goods go bad eventually.”

That was what his mother always told him. And that was before the bombs dropped. Now it was just Trevor. Well… not just Trevor. There were others. But they had no clue how to survive this chaos. So Trevor had to take charge. He told the others what his mother had taught him. Sometimes they would listen. But they were just kids. Most of them were under 12.

“Come on guys!” he said, throwing his hands in the air. The younger children had to, yet again, take another potty break. “We have to forage for food. We don’t have enough for even a meal!”

“Why can’t we go to the store?” one of the ten-year-olds asked. Her hair was matted and dirty. “Where is mommy and daddy?”

Trevor already knew it was coming. Another crying fit… from all of them. “I already told you all. Your parents died in the explosions.”

Everyone burst into a loud sob. He wanted to leave them, so badly. But he couldn’t let them die. And that’s just what would happen. They would starve. What he really wished for was an older adult. He was only eighteen and this was way too much responsibility for a teenager.

Where had the adults gone? In his rural suburb, they were in a town hall meeting. He was in charge of watching the children while the parents talked about what Mayor they were going to vote for in an upcoming election. Trevor always thought it was stupid. What difference would a small-town Mayor make anyway? Everyone knew everyone. If they had issues, they would sort it out with their fists or their words. He volunteered, against his mother’s wishes, to watch the children this time.

“I don’t want to vote anyway,” he snapped. “It’s a stupid election.”

But that was what saved Trevor a week ago. No one saw it coming. Hell. No one could see what caused the crater in Evergreen. Bombs? A meteor? Either way, it was another week walk to the closest town. And these kids were not making it easy to keep moving.

When they had all finally stopped crying, they were on the move again. Trevor had picked some wild blueberries and some oyster mushrooms for the group. And yet, there was another argument about what they liked to eat.

“I don’t like mushrooms.”

“I want a cheeseburger.”

“When can we find someone to feed us real food? Like chicken nuggets.”

Trevor sighed loudly, ignored them, and continued to lead them to the next down over, Baskerville. When these kids got really hungry, they would eat whatever he provided. Even mushrooms.

As they were trudging down the asphalt road, something caught a young girl’s eye. She pointed, but did not speak. The shimmer of the containers reflecting off the sunlight was beautiful. Or was Trevor becoming delusional? He hadn’t slept well in days. Food was scarce. Whatever he did find, he usually gave the children, leaving nothing for himself. Perhaps, he was becoming delusional.

“Canned goods.” He said to himself. The group cheered in unison while looking at the pictures on the wrappers. Ravioli, soup. It was enough to bring a tear to Trevor’s eye. His stomach started growling.

That was when he felt something sticky on his hand, underneath the can. He turned it over. A large hole was on the back of it. The contents were all over his hand and they did not smell good. He flipped the can upside down to read the expiration date. As he read the date, his heart sank.

“Even canned goods go bad eventually.”


Writing Prompt (1)

Book Pricing Rant (I hope other authors can relate)

I felt like this needed to be addressed and I hope that other published authors can relate. I have been getting some flack about the price of my paper copy book being $17.95 through Amazon. When I set up the book through Createspace and then KDP, the minimum price it allowed me to enter is $17.43. There are two categories with pricing – one is within Amazon and the other is through other sellers. Sure, I make more through purchases on Amazon, but it is not comparable to the EBook version, which I am selling for $4.99.

Part of the reason that the prices differ so greatly is because of the book itself. Obviously, a physical copy is going to cost more to produce than simply hosting an electronic version. And yes, I make more per book than I would if I had traditionally published Purpose. Either way, authors are artists who get very little comparatively.

If you think about it, tattoo artists get paid hundreds for their craft. Don’t get me wrong, it is well-deserved. I have a few tattoos and plan on getting more, gladly paying the money for another piece of art on my skin. Artists who sell stuff on Etsy charge for their time and their craft as well, which is why you tend to spend a bit more than if you were to purchase a similar item on a mass-produced website.

That is to be expected. If you provide a service and hand-craft something, you should charge more than something that a machine makes. Us authors spend years on our own craft, creating worlds, and working diligently to create a story. Hours of drafting, editing, and rewriting for one final copy, and I am charging $17.95 for a Print Copy.

What are your thoughts? I am open to hearing your opinions! 🙂

Scrawlings of 7/2/2018

writing prompt 19


I don’t remember how I got here. Where is here? Where the hell am I? An island. Somewhere.

Danica lifted her head off the coarse sand and looked around. Her vision was still hazy, but she was able to hear the lapping waves against the shoreline, the birds behind her where the treeline divided the beach from the forest, and another, unfamiliar noise. At first, it sounded like the wind. But then, as she craned to listen, the sound shifted to a soft, cold, shaking breath. Was it her own breath? But it did not match up with the rising and falling of her own chest.

What is that?

A feeling of fear shot through Danica’s body like she had been struck by lightning. It was so sudden that she thought something had stung her while she lay on the beach. Quickly, she jumped to her feet, surprised at her ability to move, and raced into the foliage. But still, she felt like she was being watched.

How did I get here? What is this place? So many questions rushed through her head. She hid in the brush, but could hear something moving around her. It was large and snarling. Danica was frozen in fear and could not turn around. Whatever it was, she could feel it’s breath on the nape of her neck, warm and moist. Then, she heard a voice.

“It’s time to stand and face your destiny,” the man’s voice said. “Danica Redvayne, I challenge you. Your throne and your life.”

Queen Redvayne immediately recognized the voice and spun around. Her family’s longtime enemy, Drannen Willowspear, had killed every one of her kin. If she died to his hand, he would assume her throne and govern the entire continent. She was young and naive, but had dabbled in magic as a child. It was unpredictable but it was the only weapon she had. And Drannen knew that.

Calm. Remain Calm Danni, she told herself.

Drannen dismounted from the large blank panther he was riding and pulled out his staff. Without a doubt, he was much more skilled in the arcane arts, but her abilities were unknown. There was a chance she could defeat him.

She raised her hands to release a column of fire, but only sparks sputtered from her palms. Run was the only word that arose in her mind.

She took off, running barefoot down a dirt path. Low hanging branches clawed at her face and caught her hair, tearing through flesh. Her body was numb. Drannen and his pet were right on her tail, but the brush was so thick that it was difficult for him to hit her with any spell.

Soon, his magic will be depleted, she reassured herself. I have the upper hand. My people can run faster than anything Drannen can ride… and I can run forever.

Another spell exploded over her head, breaking a large tree limb from above, missing Danica’s head by inches. Splinters shattered the ground, one embedding into the Queen’s calf.

She screamed in pain. If I can cast a Stoneskin spell, that shard will get pushed out of my body. It’s the only chance I got to keep going. Otherwise, I’m done for.

With one deep inhale, she tried to calm herself amidst the chase. It was just enough for her to speak the incantation correctly… Well, enough to have half of her body start transforming into a thick, hard skin. Lucky for her, it was the half that had been injured. And just as she had planned, the large splinter squeezed out from it’s wound and onto the ground behind her.

Even though Danica could run without fatigue, the island was rather small. She had traveled up a steep hill and was met with a straight drop down to jagged rocks and the sea below. When she scanned the treeline behind her, no trace of Drannen or his pet were to be found.

She capitalized on the moment of silence and hid in a small cave near the apex of the hill. The sound of her own breath was calming until she realized that even the birds had stopped chirping. For a moment, she thought of each funeral that she had attended in the previous year. Every single family member, murdered in cold blood by Drannen and his evil kin. He who controlled the throne, ruled the continent. It was only natural for someone to attempt to overthrow it.

But the Willowspear family had not always been enemies with the Redvaynes. In fact, their bloodlines were bound by marriage eons ago. But one betrayal sent the families into an endless feud. Assassinations and wars followed. In fact, the Willowspear family had been the family who held the throne for a millennia. When Radgar Willowspears wedded Elsiin Redvayne and mysteriously fell ill. He died shortly after their wedding, giving Elsiin absolute rule. Since then, the Redvaynes hold the the throne.

Drannen Willowspear had made it his life’s duty to wipe out the remaining members of betrayal. Up to this point, he had succeeded in massacring every member of Danica’s family  Only she remained.

“You can’t hide forever,” he taunted from the shadow of the forest. “Danica. I will end your miserable life and take what is rightfully mine. My family shall speak of this day for all time.”

She wanted to cry, but no tears came. I. Have. To. Try.

With a forced exhale, she stood up and revealed herself. Her enemy, once again, dismounted the massive black cat and slowly walked towards her. She backed up until her ankles crumbled against the edge of the cliff. There was no where she could hide. No where she could run.

She would either stand and fight or stand and face her death.

Just as Drannen lifted his staff and pointed it at her, she put her hands out and mustered all of the magic energy that she could. The light from the connection of the two energies, light and dark, blinded the entire region for a single moment.


I hope you liked this one! I wanted to leave it on a cliffhanger 🙂 Enjoy this writing prompt I came up with!


Writing Prompt (1)