Tuesday Teaser with a Tune

How’s that title for alliteration? So I thought I’d try something a little different this week (and maybe in weeks to come). On Sundays I post six lines from my first novel (soon to be published, visit my site for more details), but I’m thinking maybe I can make Tuesdays a day to share from my current novel. Yes, they are from the same series, but I won’t post anything that spoils all the fun . . . just tidbits I feel confident and happy with . . . and the inspiration for that segment.

Oh dear, I said inspiration.

I once guest blogged with Derek Flynn about how Music is My Muse. When I’m writing deep, dark scenes—or light, fun ones—you can be sure I’m listening to music.

There’s a horrific battle scene in Wilde’s Meadow that I am still tweaking, but am insanely happy with. The music I listened to (on repeat) while writing this is by Great Northern. The song is Numbers. Enjoy . . . and I hope you enjoy the tidbit.



~The creature [hound] lunges at Perth and lands just shy of taking a bite out of his ankle. Arland drives his sword into the beast, yanks out the bloody iron, then spins around on his heel and slices the head off a coscartha. The daemon’s dead, hollow eyes stare at me. Blood covers the sleeve of Brit’s left arm, but I can’t tell if it’s hers or another creature's. Flanna stands with her back to my sister, eyes flitting in all directions, breathing heavily, then releases an arrow into a tairb. The four of them are trapped in the center of thousands of daemons. Our allies are stuck on the outside, fighting desperately to get to my family. We need to use magic, and we need to use it fast.

"Look at them, Katriona." Dughbal's hot breath burns my ear. "They will all die because of you."

My mouth fills with the salty fluids always preceding throw up. I swallow, praying I don't lose control now. "No, if they die, they die because of you."

He wraps his hands around my throat and squeezes, but not enough to strangle me, just enough to make me strain for air, to make me wish his hands would catch fire. "I could kill you now, but the boy’s soul yearns for your safety. He knows not of your betrayal...."

Well, I can't share the rest of that line with you or I'll give way too much away. So, hope you enjoyed Tuesday's Teaser with a Tune. :-)

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Six Sentence Sunday

Can you believe it's Sunday again? And there are . . . hang on let me count . . . fourteen (14) days until Christmas. Have you done your shopping yet? That's where I am today, so if I don't respond to your comments, please know I love you and appreciate the time you take to visit me. :-)

Now without further annoying commentary by me, I give you my six.

Enjoy!

~“W-what i-if she’s a shifter?”

He peels my fingers from his forearm and takes me by the hand. “She is not a shifter.”

“But how do you know? You said—”

“I know what I said, and we also know how to tell if our animals have been infected.~

To read more Six Sunday greatness, click here!

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Friday Funny

Kid #3 faked me out Wednesday. She wailed and screamed and wouldn't walk. So I did what any good mother would do and ignored her rushed her to the hospital. It was POURING out. The roads were flooded and my ears were ringing from her high-pitched cries, but I pressed on. The triage nurse took all Kid #3's vital signs then said our wait could be a few hours. CRAP! But the baby was sick, so there I sat.

After about an hour in the waiting room, her wails turned to laughter. She wanted to get up and run around. She sang her favorite song, Hello (if you've never heard it, I suggest checking it out...FUN), she squealed and smiled . . . and I thought "What the heck?!"

So we signed her out and went home. She's been fine since.

Little trickster!

Hope everyone has a great weekend.

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Divorce Court

In the evenings my husband and I watch a string of courtroom television. I’m not sure whether our enjoyment of the nightly trash is to make ourselves feel better or worse. Half of me can’t believe people like that exist. You know what I’m talking about, the kind of people who destroy others’ property and act like it’s no big deal, the kind that beats each other and fights over petty amounts of money.

The cringe-worthy experience is good for the children too. We get to explain why one person is right or wrong and what not to do as a grown human being. Sometimes the topics go way over their heads, driving the kids to boredom and eventually to their toys. I don’t mind those times either.

We were sitting around the dinner table last night when Kid #1 peeled off a piece of his bread and held it in his fingers, ready to pop the yummy goodness in his mouth, then turned and looked at me. “Mommy, when people are married and don’t want to be married anymore, why do they have to go to a judge?”

Crap. Explanation time. Think quick, Krystal, think quick. “Well . . . .” Do I really want to tell him because people are immature and stupid and can’t agree on anything? “Well, because you are married by law. So the law has to unmarry you.”

He nodded then went back to eating.

That was easy.

Kid #1 stopped before taking another bite. “Why do they fight about it though?”

Not as easy as I thought. “When you’re married you buy things together. You share money. You have kids. These things don’t change because two people don’t want to live together anymore. People have a hard time making choices, so a judge has to help decide who gets what.”

Kid #2, looking for any excuse she could find not to eat, perked up, brown eyes wide and a smile on her face. “Who will I marry?”

No one! “That’s a discussion for when you’re thirty, Abby.”

She smiled, melting my heart with her innocence. “Will I marry Ethan?”

“Eww! No!” Kid #1 piped in.

“You don’t marry your brothers, sisters, parents, cousins, or anything like that.”

Kid #2 bounced in her chair. “Will I marry Jaden?”

Not if I have anything to say about it. That little boy has a major crush on my daughter. Might have to have a discussion with his wonderful parents. “Probably not, but it’s possible . . . when you’re thirty.”

She giggled and Kid #1 cringed. It’s funny how boys and girls view marriage differently. Kid #2’s question sidetracked the original intent of the conversation—thank God—and we finished our meals in peace.

So does anyone else have any nightly rituals that spark funny conversations with your kids? I’d love to hear about them.

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Six Sentence Sunday

Every week I find it's harder and harder to make a decision on what to share with you all. I hope you'll enjoy today's snippet. I feel it will "reveal" some fantasy aspects of my soon-to-be-published novel.

Enjoy!

~“We are here.”

“Where?” He must be joking. We haven’t even gone through the base and there’s nothing in front of us but trees and Darkness.

“Nochtann,” Arland whispers, waving his hand in front of him.

Two large wooden doors appear before us, adorned by intricate carvings of ivy with jasmine flowers blooming all over.~

To read other awesome authors who participate in the Six, click here.

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Friday Funny--Or Weird

Every week I review the search terms people used to land on my blog. Most of the time people use my name, or a post title, but this week there was a special search: Delete K R Y S T A L. Frankly I was appalled. Who would want to delete me? And what did I ever do to them? Geesh! A quick google of the exact same search terms revealed I was seventh in the list of delete K R Y S T A L's. I couldn't find anything standing out I thought this person was searching for.

So should I be upset? Was someone looking for a way to off me? Did I infuriate a blog reader?

I guess I'll never know, but it will go down in history as the strangest blog hit ever.

Happy Friday.

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When I See You . . .

When I see you, my car is warm, comfortable, full of music and life.

When I see you, I’m waiting at the last red light before arriving at work.

When I see you stand on the corner of 2nd and E, arms wrapped around your frail frame, I imagine how cold or hot you must be.

When I see you, some days your clothes are tattered and ill fitting and others you appear to have been first in line at Goodwill hand outs.

When I see you, I tell myself to be a better person, to bring you lunch, to have a conversation with you . . . to help.

Then the light turns green, and I forget.

When I see you again, my eyes fill with tears, my heart squeezes in my chest. I forgot about you yesterday, forgot to bring you a sandwich, forgot to offer you a short story . . . forgot to be a good person.

When I see you, I imagine the life you must have lived, how you came to stake claim on this small corner right outside the shelter in Washington, D.C.

When I see you, I wonder if you have family, friends, or anything to “return” to.

Then the light turns green, and I forget.

I saw you this morning, you were smiling, hugging two women, talking. I cried. I forgot about you again. Someone else was the good person I should have been, someone else asked you about your life, someone else worried about your well being while I only worried about getting to work on time.

When I see you, I’m going to give you this letter.

When I see you, I hope God blesses you and provides you comfort.

When I see you, I hope to be witness to your smile.

It’s beautiful . . . just like you.

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