Character Interview with Kalib Ganesh

Tags

character development, character interview, ladies man, Little Red and the Surly Bear, Loving Red Saga, Order of the Star, powers of persuasion, The Mark of the Phoenix

Hey, y’all. Ready to meet a newish character from my Broken World series, Kalib Ganesh, Assetato agent.

Alisha: Thank you for coming to meet with me today, Kalib. I know you’re busy, and I appreciate your time.

Kalib: It’s no problem, sweets. I take any chance I can to fraternize with pretty ladies.

Alisha: Oh, you flirt. I’m happily married.

Kalib: Innocent fun is nothing to feel shame over. I will not keep you from your questions. <He gestured with a handroll for me to go ahead.>

Alisha: Good. I feel better focusing on you rather than me. So, first question: What’s in your fridge right now?

Kalib: At home, most of what haunts my frivolously empty kitchen is alcohol and coffee, so a half-empty carton of milk and a few bottles of wine? No blood or other gore like movies tend to depict. Unless the house keeper stashed some away on there.

Alisha: Coffee and wine. I get on board with that.

Kalib: I am a man of excellent taste.

Alisha: What is your most marked characteristic?

Kalib: Why, my charisma, of course. I can charm my way into or out of nearly any situation, especially when sexual prowess is at stake, sweets. I have quite the collection of undergarments.

Alisha: Good to know. Not one of my questions though.

Kalib: It felt like a fitting answer to me.

Alisha: I’m sure. What was your life like before you became a vampire?

Kalib: I was the son of a politician, anointed into the Order of the Star in India. We lived well and worked hard. We were proud of where we came from and what we worked toward.

Alisha: It’s nice to have conviction. What is the most beautiful thing you have ever seen?

Kalib: As I’m sure you wouldn’t appreciate if I told you about this young thing I found in northern India just after my transformation, I would have to say Hoggenakal Falls in South India. It’s breathtaking and invigorated with power.

Alisha: I have found water and earth in such force has enormous emotional effects. What is your idea of perfect happiness?

Kalib: A good bottle of wine, pale legs and blonde hair spread across my sheets…

Alisha: Speaking of pale and blonde, tell me what’s going on there between you and Maddy?

Kalib: A gentleman does not kiss and tell about a lady.

Alisha: You have done nothing but.

Kalib: Vague details that do not pinpoint anyone. I can paint quite the picture without offense.

Alisha: If you say so. Do you believe in love at first sight?

Kalib: Absolutely, but it rarely lasts longer than a couple of days at most. At least, in my experience.

Alisha: What is your weapon of choice and do not make any phallic references is you please.

Kalib: I am a fan of the sword, and I have dabbled quite a bit in throwing stars, but I prefer my powers of persuasion. <Smoke lifted off of him, sweet and dirty all at once.> It’s quite a helpful tool.

Alisha: That’s one I haven’t seen before. How does it work?

Kalib: I must simply want something badly enough, and I make it mine.

Alisha: I hope you don’t take that power lightly. What is your favorite proverb?

Kalib: “It is better to see something once than to hear about it a thousand times.”

Alisha: I like that. Last one, when did you last make a promise?

Kalib: Mere months ago, to a woman who deserves much more than I can promise, but I offer nothing more than I can deliver.

Alisha: Back to those cryptic details, huh?

Kalib: I believe you are out of questions, sweets.

Alisha: That I am and time. Thank you again for taking a couple of minutes to sit and talk with me today, or it might be better to say flirt with me, but I’m sure that’s nothing personal.

Kalib: Oh, no. Not at all.

Well, everyone, that is Kalib, he’s made a few cameos in a few stories so far, and I can’t wait for you all to keep learning more about him with me.

 

Want to see him in action? Take a look at LOVING RED, THE MARK OF THE PHOENIX, and LITTLE RED & THE SURLY BEAR, coming this June!

Obnoxious Character Planning: INFERNO Character Personality Types

Tags

blood phoenix saga, Blood Phoenix: inferno, character development, INFP, Myers Briggs personality model, personality types, writer planning, writing tools

So, I’ve been on a planning kick lately, showing the intimate details of how I prepare myself for a big project, like a book. I’m going to be honest, the way I prep myself changes each time, and this go around, I might have gone a little crazy with notes and etc.

But here’s a bit of my rationale. I’m working with a series. While I have limited myself to five books for Ria’s BLOOD PHOENIX saga, I do have a slew of other characters, books, and stories within this world, so I need to start keeping track of little things that will connect and manifest throughout.

Now, this is a little wild for planning purposes, but I thought it was so much fun to peg down each of my characters by personality type, so here’s my list:

One of the interesting things I discovered from doing this is that Ria’s personality, although remaining the same amongst most of her previous lives, did change on a few. Even with reincarnation, culture and genetics played a role in how they behaved. Since Ria’s past lives impact Ria’s present quite dramatically, I hope can keep them separated enough to do them justice.

Another interesting note about personality types is that even with the same four-letter determinations, their personalities are not precisely the same. For instance, Ria, Mark, Colista, and Layla have the same categorization—INFP, but each of their descriptors are different: the Spunky Kid, the Lost Soul, the Waif, and the Nurturer, which comes not from the Myers-Briggs model but from the character archetypes of heroes, heroines, and villains, although honestly, none of these four are villains in the slightest.

But INFP clearly fits all four: poetic, kind, and altruistic people, always eager to help a good cause. They are the most idealistic, have strong personal values, seek order and peace, are creative, non-directive, and reserved with people.

Anyways, I could devolve into a rambling about personalities and the types of how each connects, but I’m not going to do that. I merely wanted to share how assigning base personality types helped me differentiate characters and keep them true to their original dispositions, even as they evolve as people.

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So, I want to know what kind of categorization, notes, and tools do you use to develop and/or maintain your characters? Let me know in the comments below.

 

Plotting INFERNO: the Transition from Pantser to Plotter

Tags

#100daychallenge, #100dayproject, blood phoenix saga, bullet journal, Harmon's Plot Embryo, panster, plotter, Rachael Stephen, three-act structure, writing journal, writing spreads

So, if you’ve had a chance to peek at my writing journal, you’ll know that I’ve recently invested more time on plotting elements of my novels and stories via plot embryos, the hero’s journey, and the three-act structure.

I have been a long-time pantser doing little planning other than major scenes that I knew I wanted somewhere relative to each other in a general arc, which is basically saying that I bullshitted my way through most of my writing.

Well, the last novel I wrote, THE GIRL WITH THE GLOWING HAIR, flowed out of me so much faster with a general guide for each of my chapters. I also developed them with a chart and the five-idea method from Rachael Stephen.

This worked so well that I implemented the plot embryos for my shorter works to gauge a general structure.

Then the year ended, and it was time to start my new BLOOD PHOENIX novel, INFERNO. And man, the embryo was a nice start, but I needed more to power through as many words as I really wanted to get through this year (~112,000 words), so I tried my hand at a three-act structure, and here’s what I came up with.

 

How I plotted BLOOD PHOENIX: INFERNO (some spoilers but no biggies).

Here is where I used the traditional Harmon’s Plot Embryo, below is a comparison of the  my use of the tool. The blue bits are major spoilers.

After I let that marinate for a little while, I created a list of all the plot points I could think of for each act, not worrying about an order. Like this:

 

This is when I used the three-act structure in a stricter sense, putting those on my list into the act where they belong. At the bottom, I had notes that came from looking at the story arc again and again.

Finally, I made the project its own notebook, listing each act’s plot points down the side before shifting them into appropriate chapters with other details to help me not get stuck between, which is where I typically struggle the most with writer’s block.

So far, this method has allowed me to hammer out 16,000 words last month and another 4,000 this last week with the #100daychallenge or #100dayproject.

But this little book I’ve slapped together has some extras that help me remember character motivations, keep secondary threads going, plan out the past to understand how it affects the present, and after the halfway mark, I’ve started gathering notes for a Broken World guide after requests from readers to explain all of the connections and cross-overs and research that builds the series.

And that’s the process I’ve been using. I’ve found quite a spike in my productivity since I started plotting more and writing more consistently.

I hope you’ve found this helpful, and if you have any suggestions for plotting or writing research, leave them in the comments below so that I can add them to my list!

Also, join me on Instagram or my personal page as I document my journey writing 500 words a day for 100 days!

Playing Matchmaker: a Maddy Mini

Tags

Little Red and the Surly Bear, Loving Red, missed opportunity, must read, playing matchmaker, shifters, the broken world series, unrequited love, vampires

In celebration of my upcoming novella, Little Red and the Surly Bear, I thought I’d explore a scene from the story from one of my supporting character’s point of view.

Enjoy!

 

Maddy pinched her son, swatting him out of the way as he pulled a fresh onion ring from the top of a patron’s plate. “You quit that before I serve you up to our customers instead.”

Theo grumbled and rolled his eyes, so she swatted him again.

A deep smoke-laced coffee scent inched through the kitchen window, narrowing Maddy’s eyes on the curls as Kalib walked to the table where Kaia sat. And neither of them told her they were coming? Oh no, sweets. That is not how she ran her social life or safehouses, and that vampire knew as much.

When she finished the fried catfish plate and served it to her customer at the bar, she detoured and slipped into the empty seat at their table. “Two of my favorite people show up at my place, and nobody warns me first. You’d better be planning me a surprise party, or I’m going to be offended.”

“Surprise.” Kalib smiled without fang, warmth and intimacy bled into it like a promise to make it up to her.

He’d better.

Maddy turned to Kaia, knowing her humanity and newness to paranormal persuasiveness, she didn’t hold it against her. Much.

“I sent you a message before I left.” Kaia’s green eyes blinked at her as is if to amplify her innocence.

A short shuffle with her phone, and there it was, just as her friend said, a heads-up text. Maybe Kaia was more of a match for this group than she thought. “Well, apparently you did. So, I’ll forgive you. You, on the other hand, are in the dog house.”

Maddy pointed at him to accentuate her point.

He played his part, dramatic in shock. “If this is what I get for surprising a friend, I will have to choose better friends, maus.”

Maybe he played that part too well, anxiety fluttered under her ribs for a heartbeat before she pushed it away. They’d been friends a long time. More than on a few occasions.

It carried her back to the kitchen.

Dev slipped in through the back—the real reason Kalib was at their establishment. Should have figured.

Her brother leaned in to give her a kiss on the cheek before tagging Javier for a brief chat.

Maddy shook it off, digging into her work: tasting, seasoning, stirring, scooping. Managing the pub’s kitchen and trying to ignore the guilt of having pushed Kalib away those centuries ago. Before she knew the kind of man he was. Before she’d had Theo.

She needed a fresh air break. Or maybe a cigarette and a glass of bourbon.

Hitting a lull in the line, Maddy did just that, sneaking off as Kalib grabbed her brother’s attention. As much as she brush him off, the concrete feeling of his attention caressed her spine.

The backdoor sealed the noise and stew of scents inside, and Maddy finally found some relief. She fished out the pack of cigarettes she kept for times like this from behind the dumpster and pulled the acrid smoke into her lungs with relish before the backdoor opened again, and Kalib stepped out.

“Tsk, tsk, maus. Do you not know how quickly those death sticks will kill you?” Unceremoniously close, he slipped the cigarette from her fingers and took his own drag, the smoke pluming thicker and darker on his exhale.

Sweeter.

Kalib leaned her back against the brick via proxy as he returned her nicotine. His proximity stirring old feelings with the new ones.

The temptation to draw him closer strangled her. Too close to mating season.

She glanced at the door between heartbeats.

“Afraid of being caught by your pious brother?”

That pulled a snort out of her. “My brother? Pious? I think you’ve had something a little heavier than tobacco.”

Those elegant fingers stopped her short, drawing her hair from her face and tucking it behind her ear.

Sanity said to push him away, but his smoke slipped into her mouth before he kissed her—intense like the first time but not fueled by the same childish neediness.

Still she could not control her ragged breath when he pulled back.

“Consider this my apology for showing up unannounced and playing matchmaker. The romantic in me can’t seem to help myself.”

 

 

Faerie Possession, a Loving Red Excerpt

Tags

dryads, faeries, Loving Red, must read, possession, shifters, soldier in Afghanistan, the bloody queen, the broken world series, vampires

From Chapter Twenty-Five

Outside, the buzzing cicadas and chirping crickets, the occasional bleat from an oversized frog and the general whispering of the trees reached him. Besides his ache to be wrapped up with Kaia, peace fell over him. The dryad chose and secured a wonderful piece of land.

The Scarlet Queen bothered him, increasingly so as the sun lightened the blue of the sky and his mind grew crisp and fully awake. She didn’t use her powers on the two of them while she had opportunity to, unless she’d gone complacent through her power over others. And Severins himself was too low in the ranks for her to do the dirty work. Still, what he’d just learned about the pixie nagged him.

Scarlet had been rigid with her hands, placing them oddly on her thighs and at her sides, twitching ever so slightly, but she could have simply been eccentric. He’d met his share of odd fae over his lifetime. Without being aware of her normal behavior, Severins merely had assumptions—nothing concrete enough to plan around. The side of his head pounded in time with his heartbeat, and heat warmed the sky like his early mornings in Afghanistan with steel beach soaking up the sun and reflecting a steaming ninety degrees by breakfast.

Somehow, Afghanistan seemed easier than this. The routines, knowing the enemy, knowing the men he worked with. Severins sighed and stepped off the porch, pacing the brisk lawn as he searched for a signal on his cell. He found a spot by Kalib’s car where he maintained two bars and view of the trailer.

He dialed home.

His mother answered. “Who is this?”

“Maman.”

“Where have you been? Your leave started a week ago.” The worry in her voice weighed on his shoulders.

“I’ve fallen into something. I won’t make it unless it’s safe. Right now, it isn’t. And before you ask, I can’t tell you like this…I’m supposed to pick up Shawna, and since I can’t, I want you to. Be ready for anything.”

“Severins, you’re worrying me.”

He needed her worried, because a worried maman meant a protected pup.

“Just keep her safe for me until I get there, okay?”

“Yes, my son, I will protect her with my life.” She sounded resolved and very much like the warrior wolf she’d always been. “Give me some clue as to what I might prepare for.”

“The Scarlet Queen.” Bodies moved inside at both ends of the house. “I need to go. Je t’aime, Maman.”

She told him that she loved him, too, before he walked around the house. No signs of anyone on or near the property. But he clearly felt Kaia moving through the house.

She met him on the porch with a sleepy smile. “Hey there, Big Bad Wolf. You weren’t marking your territory on any of Eilon’s precious plants, were you?”

Severins eased her against him, running his fingers through her hair to release her scent into the air. Everything inside burned for her with such intensity that his senses sharpened. But the general cool touch of her fingertips blazed against his biceps. Bending to kiss her forehead, the same unnerving heat greeted him. “Are you feeling all right, beautiful? You’re burning up.”

“Hmm?” The strength of her surprised him as she squeezed him closer, pushing his torn shirt up his torso. “I feel fine.”

Rubbing her body against his sent a jolt of need through him. But when she lifted her face to him, the green of her eyes took on a reddish-brown ring as though the fields burned under the relentless, Oklahoma sun. She pulled at him again, but apprehension hit him instead of arousal. “Why don’t we find a soft bed of flowers to desecrate?”

Framing her face with his palms, he bent for a better look. The colors of her irises darkened along the rim, spreading like vines toward her pupils. Pliable magick wove between them, and sirens rang in Severins’ head. “Shit.”

Yanking her into his arms, he carried her inside, restraining her thrashes. “Oi,” he called in the doorway. “Little help.”

Kaia’s elbow connected with his nose, and the crunch of cartilage shot pain straight into his brain. But he held onto her until Kalib took her. Blood dripped onto his fingers as he tipped his head back until the dryad offered him a fresh towel with some ice.

The vampire struggled with Kaia in attempts of subduing her without harm. He succeeded in pinning her to the chair in which he’d slept. Bending to get a good look at her, he swore. Profanity cut short, Kaia pressed her mouth to his before she floated into the leather with a grin unbefitting of her gentle persona.

“Chai would never do that. You’re not her.”

The laugh that bellowed from her made the ivy quiver and retreat, pressing against its support in fear. She writhed in her seat, and the vampire used his hips to pin her knees together. Kaia purred at him.

Eilon sniffed at the southeast corner of his house, reaching behind him with a distracted gesture. “Bosex. Hawk. Resting in an oak a kilometer from here.”

Grown rigid, Eilon stomped his foot, his skin marbled, and ivy sprouted in place of his hair. “No. No! Nobody marks my trees. My trees!”

“Hey, oak boy.”

Eilon whipped his head around, black eyes wide and terrifying. The knobs at his knuckles sprouted thick, sharp thorns.

“Got anything to keep her from hurting herself or us?”

Black gaze swung to Kaia and back, before he shifted, ordering Kalib to bring her closer. Eilon coaxed the vines on his wall, and as the vampire set her against them, ivy wrapped around her limbs, torso, and throat. Long stem-like fingers flicked at the last vine. “She needs to breathe.”

The vine unraveled from her throat and tangled itself around her waist. Kaia jerked forward after Eilon, laughing as more vines held her.

“You’ll never win. Just let them take me.” Her body rolled against her restraints. “We’ll all dance in blood as your bodies are butchered, your bones gnawed on, and we add you to the fire like kindling.”

The bleeding in Severins’ nose stopped, and he felt it for the break, shifting it into place as he shouted his rage. Those bastards infiltrated her mind. This wasn’t a power present during their capture, and he’d never heard of a bosex that could pull this stunt off, nor a vampire without eye contact.

“Can fae perform a trick like that?” Kalib asked Eilon; he must have come to the same conclusion.

Kaia began a low, eerie song in a language he didn’t understand—her voice sounded unlike her own. Eilon stood transfixed by it until Severins skirted him toward the door.

“I know of one. The Scarlet Queen’s apprentice—a babe stolen from a very powerful family. She can do more the closer she comes.” The dramatics seemed to lessen the more danger seeped into the little house and the louder Kaia’s voice became.

Each of them stood at the ready, so Severins took his role. He pointed at the vampire. “Keep the front door in sight. Stand between anything that wants to get inside to Kaia. And you,” he pointed at the dryad, “Head southeast. Distract them if you can’t take them. I’m searching for whoever’s causing this.”

Haunting giggles cascaded out of Kaia, twisting a knot in Severins’ gut. He took a long whiff of the magick as his nose cleared and healed. “I’ll go first.”

They each moved in the precise movements of trained men. Severins followed the faint traces of magick through the trees, but it turned him around and had him retracing his steps until his wolf senses overlapped and became his downfall. Fewer animals rustled around than he expected. The magick was stronger; he could taste it, but he’d gotten lost in the woods for the first time in over six hundred years.

Stopping, Severins listened.

The trees grew silent.

The air went still.

He braced himself for attack and waited.

And waited.

The whoosh came from his right.

Severins turned to meet it.

Sharp jabs greeted the muscles as his back met the tree behind him.

A familiar fist met his ribs, and he returned the favor, finding the hawk’s flesh. Sharp streams of light reflected off the golden hue of him.

Grabbing a hold of him, Severins gained ground, twisting Eric to the left.

The swift pressure in his side made him grunt, and he knew he’d been stabbed. He held back no restraint as he shoved the hawk back into the tree, aim intact; a sharp, broken branch pierced Eric’s middle. The wood produced a wound less threatening than his own, but it rewarded Severins the time to retreat.

At the porch, he pulled the blade out and fell to his knees. The vampire stood behind him in seconds. “Silver-plated. Cheap but enough.”

Plated silver meant serious damage to his internal organs, but it didn’t necessarily mean he couldn’t heal, but he didn’t have the time for this kind of wound. They wanted him down, that’s for sure. And they got him there.

Kalib pulled Severins up, maneuvered him inside, and gave him the shirt off his back. “Press this to it. I’ll find the nymph.”

And the vampire disappeared.

 

 

Tall, blonde, and charming, a new adventure has blown into Miami.

When Sergeant Severins Bouvier’s wolf senses bring him to a tiny accountants’ office, he unknowingly steps in the middle of a manhunt.

Kaia doesn’t trust Sev, but she’ll have to rely on him once a rogue group of creatures catches her scent.

Now, they’re on the run together, and chasing after her ex is the only way of ending this nightmare.

If you like the dark and sexy plots of the Dark Hunters and paranormal twists of the Anita Blake Series, you’ll love the Loving Red saga.

Buy Loving Red to start this sweetly sadistic affair today.

Courting Her, a Layla Mini

Tags

a female hero, character sketch, courting a woman, Eugene Sotir, must read, past lives, Pride and Prejudice, Russian Tales, the broken world series, The Tale of Tsaritsa Dinara

I dug into the earth behind my crumbling abode, cramming soil under my short fingernails as the weeds threatening to choke my garden came loose. The pile would be turned into mulch, chopped and left to rot with other scraps. Not that we had many of those.

All of my digging created two trips to the composting pile and a scant two carrots, two potatoes, and smattering of tomatoes that were mildly chewed up by bugs. I gathered them in my apron pockets and lugged my tools back to the house.

Sweat and grime swathed my face, neck, and chest, but most would have to stay until tonight’s scheduled bath, but I wiped some away from my eyes and mouth with a damp cloth and wished I’d done more when the exotic scents of vanilla and honey permeated the back entrance.

Patting loose strands of hair, I turned to find the young gentleman who liked to come read to me and my three little brats. The twinkle in his midnight eyes made my stomach flip-flop.

I curtsied a little at his entrance. “Mr. Sotir, what a pleasant surprise. Would you like some tea? I can set you up in the drawing room.”

“I would, but I am in no need of such special treatment. I can take it here with you.”

Why did his eyes sparkle that way when he looked at me? I shuffled around the kitchen, putting my haul beside the sink, filling the kettle for the stove, and pulling cups and tea leaves and a strainer.

“Did you bring a book to read to us today?”

“I did. If that pleases you. I brought ‘The Tale of Tsaritsa Dinara.’ It’s a Russian tale about a Christian queen who struggles against a Persian king due to her refusal to comply with his demands for a tribute. She galloped into battle against him armored on a white steed. I think you would like it very much.”

“A female hero?” I smiled to myself. “I think I would like that, but the kids are about their chores and lessons right now, and I’m afraid that they will be for the next few hours.”

The water whistled on the stove, and I poured the tea to serve, leaning against the counter to enjoy my own.

“Perhaps until they are finished, I can regale you with stories in the oral tradition as we walk.”

A blush burned my cheeks, hopefully hidden under the smeared soil. “What stories do you know so well to recite to me? Is it a means to parade your position over me for some kind of perversion of your own?”

He laughed silently and shook his head. “Nothing of the kind. I assure you.”

I nodded, and he extended his elbow to me as an escort.

Flutters exaggerated the flopping of my stomach, and I had a hard time following the obscure tale he wove.

When we circled back under the bridge to the muddied creek, he pulled me to a stop.

Thudding in my chest made my breath go wild as this man leaned in closer. Perhaps a perversion wouldn’t be quite so bad.

The pad of his thumb brushed dirt from my cheek.

“You are an awfully forward man, Mr. Sotir.”

“Eugene. I believe we are familiar enough for you to call me Eugene.”

The touch of his mouth replaced the sun with stars, and my fingers found his suit before he retreated.

“Forgive me,” he said against my lips. “I couldn’t seem to help myself. Perhaps, we should return to the house to keep me from overstepping my bounds again.”

Character Background: Felix Gray

Tags

basic bad guy, deplorable industrialized conditions, eliminate competition, Felix Gray, foster family, impoverished life, paranormal attack, the broken world series, the queen of the vampires, vampire training facility

Felix Gray. If you’re familiar with Ria’s story at all, you know who this little monster is. If not, well, that’s why we’re here.

Felix is Phea, the queen of the vampires’, pet project. He’s got connections in the right places, and he knows the rules well enough to wiggle around them to suit his needs.

As part of Phea’s progression through history, she stayed with Felix and his family as a foster child in the late 1700s. When Felix discovered her secret, he begged her to take him away from the impoverished life, which led him to work in deplorable industrialized conditions alongside his parents until finding his way into local crime. This, in part, allowed him to prove himself to Phea; however, her true test came in killing his parents—presumably because of their treatment of her, but honestly, she’s not telling me the entire truth here, and she’s pretty sadistic in general, so it may simply be to keep anyone from looking for him.

This cruel nature blossomed in Felix, which is why he’s her gofer. He punishes, kidnaps, tortures, and kills, etc., at her command. Many others do this for her as well, of course, but she enjoys him because he’s so eager to please.

It wasn’t until after Felix became a vampire that he met the others: namely James, Phea’s second in command and lover. Animosity bloomed, and Felix swore to take her from him eventually. This is why he’s so focused on Ria when she comes to their training facility and tries to claim her. But of course, he fails to beat Gene—all by James’s design.

Let’s just say that Felix isn’t nearly as sneaky or smart as he thinks he is. Nor is he as powerful as he wishes as he was made by Samuel, the designated maker of a large lot of vampires because he is strong but lacks the ability to usurp the queen. If you haven’t guessed it, this, too, was on purpose.

But again, Felix planned to take Ria away from both James and Gene as their stories progress, and many have commented on how everyone seems to be “into her,” but Felix’s reasons for attacking her in such ways is purely (or almost purely) part of his strategy to pit James and Gene against each other and to slowly eliminate the competition.

His motives aren’t anything new. He’s a pretty basic bad guy, who’s smart enough to outwit most humans, but not smart enough to contend with those ten- or forty-times his age. Experience often benefits the paranormal more than their abilities do.

That’s Felix in a nutshell. Got any questions about Felix or the others, drop them in the comments below.  Otherwise, tell me about your supportive villains. How do you balance them with your main antagonist?

 

Cheers and happy reading/writing y’all!6

His Return: a Colista mini.

Tags

author mini, colista, flash fiction, gene, PTSD, soldier coming home, the blood phoenix saga, the broken world series, veteran

Gene lay beside me in bed, like a dream after the year he’d been gone to fight under the Gordians. His skin seemed paler, although that could have been the moon playing tricks on me.

And my heart.

I spent every day worrying over him, wondering if and when he might come back. If he’d be all in one piece.

And he was.

Thank the gods, he was.

But he had accumulated a new mass of scars—light and glowing against his usual tan—along his sides and arms. My fingers found a patch by his armpit, following them down to his ribs.

Gene opened his eyes like he’d feigned sleep.

“What are you doing awake this late?” His husky voice pulled me closer to him, but only barely.

“A habit, that’s all.” The intensity in his blue eyes unnerved me. My husband had never left me intimidated before.

My father told me that he might return different. All soldiers did.

And he was.

Warmth cupped the back of my arm, and I wormed closer, wanting to sink into him.

“What keeps you up?” His voice dipped in my ears as he pulled my head against his shoulder.

“I worry—worried—about you. Out there. Fighting.” The truth was I’d spent an hour or more each night in front of our window with a bowl or herbs and oils and salts, begging the gods and the universe for Gene’s return.

“You don’t need to worry about me anymore.” The sweet scent of him lulled me into comfort, removing the layers of stress and anxiety from between my brows.

His heat surrounded me, relaxing me past the fear of waking up without him again.

“I can protect you, now. Provide for you. And I’m not going anywhere,” my dreams said in his voice.

I wanted to believe him.

But I knew better.

Did You Know…About the God of Chaos

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Acheron, Apep, Apollymi, god of chaos, Juracán, Leviathan, Meleia, Primordial God, Sherrilyn Kenyon, Zoroastrainism

In Greek mythology, Chaos was the first primordial god—according to Hesiod—who formed the initial void of the universe, or the gap between heaven and earth. In his version, Chaos was the first thing to exist, and from it came Gaia, Earth; Tartarus, the Nether Abyss; and Eros, Love. When personified, he fathered Erebus, Darkness; and Nyx, Night. Yet, this personification didn’t keep him from being known as a far away, underground, or gloomy place beyond Tartarus.

The Abrahamic belief systems reference Chaoskampf, or a cosmic battle between a sea monster that represents the forces of chaos and a creator god or a cultural hero that imposes order by force. Judaism refers to this chaotic creature as Leviathan (or more modernly as the “great whale.”) Christianity refers to Leviathan as the image of Satan, who threatens God’s creatures by trying to eat them and with the attempted upheaval in the waters of Chaos. This version demonizes him as envious and one of the seven Princes of Hell.

In Zoroastrianism, hymns presented the two sides of existence as the mainyu, or the mind, spirit and otherwise abstract energy, and the angra, or the destructive, chaotic, disorderly, inhibitive, and malign, etc. manifestations. It also refers to the angra mainyuas “absolute antithesis.” The mythological story portrays a back and forth between good and evil with the personified Angra Mainyu planning to dry up the earth, urging hero Zoroaster to turn away from the good religion for sovereignty of the world, and battling Spenta Mainyu for possession of khvaraenah, or divine glory and fortune. Utlimately, Angra Mainyu is assigned to the nether world, one of darkness, to reign over the daevas, demons or opponents.

Anient Egyptians embodied chaos as deity Apep or Apophis. As Ra was the solar deity, bringing of light, his greatest enemy was the “Lord of Chaos.” As the personification of all evil, Apep was seen as a giant snake or serpent that stretched sixteen yards in length and had a head made of flint. Although, he has been similarly depicted as a crocodile, like modern Judaism has shown the Leviathan. Myth has suggested, however, that Ra’s birth was a consequence of Apep’s primordial force, thus suggesting that evil is merely the consequence of an individual’s own struggles against non-existence.

In the native Caribbean cultures, the deity of chaos and disorder was believed to control the weather, particularly hurricanes, called Juracán. Taíno mythology, these storms were spawned and controlled by the goddess Guabancex, or “the one whose fury destroys everything,” as the Taínos were aware of the hurricane’s spiraling wind patterns, which they used when depicting the deity. When Guabancex’s volatile temper unleashed these hurricanes—or juracánes—she would interrupt the balance of rain and drought, rotating her arms in a spiral to pick up the ocean water and land and force it violently back over the Taíno settlements. She threatened the other deities to coerce them into joining the chaos.

As for my depiction of the Goddess of Chaos, Meleia—although she is much more the goddess of fate and destruction as well—I gleamed a bit of her position from reading Sherrilyn Kenyon’s Dark Hunter series with Acheron, the harbinger of destruction, and his mother, Apollymi, the Goddess of Life, Death, and Wisdom and daughter of Chaos. I particularly liked how the duo were shown as the destroyers.

Meleia does not destroy all, as shown in her recent mini, she only has say over her own people. Well, sometimes good people must do bad things. It creates balance. This is reflected in Ria and her phoenix, making an amalgamation of power that will change the universe.

I like thinking of Meleia, and other creatures normally seen as evil, as individuals who do what they do out of necessity. This has a heck of a lot of cultural connections. Make the ones you will. All seen as purely evil have some sense of humanity to them. Some sense of mercy and good.

I know where Ria’s mercy lies. Meleia’s seem to reflect them. This makes me excited about learning about her, and getting to see pieces of her life as she becomes a more an integral part of Ria’s story.

Who knows, maybe after these next two books, she’ll have intrigued me to give her voice a story all its own.

Let’s see what happens.

Check out these related posts:

Gods of Chaos, a Meleia Mini

Did You Know…About the Hybrids & Chaos?

Did You Know…About the Phoenix?

Gods Fall to Chaos

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atlantis, Broken World, destiny, fate, God of the Underworld, goddess of chaos, must read, pantheon, The fall, throne room, unrequited love

Yellow and orange bloomed across my vision, wisping at the blues of the morning sky. The diamond blue water spanned the horizon past the marbling stone archways; warm air shimmied up my white sarong. Blonde hair swam across my torso when I turned toward a man.

“Markandeya, what are you doing here?”

Bright cobalt eyes and scruffy dark hair and skin, this god dressed like a warrior, but he mimicked his twin brother without needed to. He stepped forward abruptly, a single step, wanting to reach for me.

“We’re in trouble.”

“You and I?” I step diagonal to him, seeming to get closer but keeping an equal distance between us.

“No. Us. All of us. All of Atlantis.” Markandeya turned with me, and I must have misread what his eyes showed me. Not a shard of kindness lived in him or his twin.

“So why come to me with this news? Why not Crehon?”

“Because, Meleia, if I perish, I’d rather have your voice in my ears.”

I laughed. “Me? The little play thing you love to call on to help send people to your realm?”

“I’ve only ever asked for you to do what you were made to do. People’s choices only allow them so much freedom. You have final say on their fates.” Markandeya stepped closer again, and I worked to resist the charm. Something of the true terror inside him lured me in.

“And what do you ask of me now?”

His gaze caught the way I moved around him, his chest expanding against his breastplate. “To stop Phea from destroying us.”

I shook my head. The ocean called to me, and I would soon sink into it with the rest of my family. “Nothing can be done.”

Markandeya invaded my space before I took a new breath. “You’ve already sacrificed us to this fate?”

Wobbling, the strong masculine scent of him intoxicating. “Fate may be my responsibility amongst our people, but I do not control the cosmos. I have no say what happens to our pantheon. If we perish, we will return—as many times as necessary.”

Fingers finally finding the back of my arm, touch warmer than I’d imagined. Kinder. His mouth brushed my ear, rough hair on his face prickling my cheek. “Then I hope in one of those lives, you won’t find me so repulsive.”

The shift of air captured our scents, and Markandeya disappeared.

My throne room shifted over the harbour.

Destiny singing our destruction as a lullaby from its depths.