Monthly Archives: February 2017

Lyric Warm-Up Writing – No Captain Will Save Our Souls


It’s been a while but I think I’m finally starting to get on the other side of this wretched illness. And so today, finally I am inspired to do some a new lyric prompted writing. I do hope you enjoy this story. I think perhaps one day I’d like to write more of it.

No Captain Will Save Our Souls

It was said that a son born of man and mermaid would command the seas and bring back great bounty each voyage. And so many a sailor searched the seas for the beauty beneath the waves.

A mermaid brought from the sea against her will would grow legs if kept from her home for three nights, a mermaid kept from the sea for three turns of the moon would never be able to sink beneath the waves again. And so, mermaids were captured and kept from their homes, they became as mortal women but with a desperate longing for the seas and the family they could never return to.

A son born to a sailor was celebrated. A daughter more often returned to the seas of her mother. She was no mermaid herself and the sea claimed her life.

The mermaids changed. Whereas once they might have fallen in love with a sailor and willingly given their tails for legs, now they would cheerfully drown any sailor who came into their waters.

The hatred in the hearts of the mermaids was passed down and with the aid of their siren sisters, they lured many ships into storms, against jagged rocks, or simply called sailors to jump from the decks.

Time passed and man forgot the stories, but the merfolk never forgot and they never forgave. For each mermaid stolen to land against her will, they would kill a thousand men. For each daughter drowned by a heartless man, they would kill another thousand. They would not be happy until all men had been punished for the wrongs that had been done.


Katilea took great pleasure in her task and always had but it changed and became something more when tragedy struck. While it was uncommon for a mermaid to be stolen now from the waters, men could still take their lives. Her sister had been killed by fishermen. They had pulled her body in their nets and then made it into exhibit charging people to come and see the mermaid. From the water, Katilea had watched as the dead body of her sister was poked and prodded by these people for the price of a coin. Some people had been horrified, others they had laughed.

And then on the fourth day, the body had been dumped back into the sea. In life or death, after three nights, a stolen mermaid’s tail would turn to legs. They could make no more money off her so they dumped her.

Katilea had taken the body back to her family. Her anger at the men grown to something dangerous.

“I swear it Kaliewai, each man will be punished. Each of those who laughed at you, who screamed at the sight of you, who made a mockery of your life, they shall be punished. I swear it on the stone of Amana, they will be punished for what has been done to you.”

She rose back to the surface near to the town of the men when her sister was at peace. Fishermen’s boats lined the wooden docks, waiting for the tide to change so they could put out. Katilea did not know which boat had first captured her sister, but they all had a part in her humiliation and so, they would all pay.

They would find the fish gone from where they once caught them. Storms would come for them. And Katilea would lure wicked souls into the depths and cheerfully drown them. They would get what was coming to them. Each and every soul would suffer.

It was what they deserved.


“Come, Eren. You have not smiled in a week.”

“And why should I smile, we found and destroyed something wondrous.”

“Are you still going on about that trick? It was just a woman, she probably just washed into our nets.” Berk clipped Eren on the shoulder and pushed him toward the boat. “No time for daydreams now. We sail on the tide.”

“Yes, Uncle,” Eren replied. He obediently followed his uncle onto the boat and began to work on the nets ready for them to released when they were out to sea.

He did not stop thinking about the body of the beautiful woman. He was sure the stories of his grandmother when he had been a boy had spoken of mermaids growing legs if kept on land. He was certain this woman had been a magical creature from the depths and something to be honoured. Instead, against his wishes, his uncle had made her a sideshow, making himself extra coins to show her off.

Eren sighed and leant against the starboard railing of the boat, looking out across the waves where they would soon travel. He glimpsed something in the water, something sitting out of the water. He could have sworn he saw a head, shoulders, a beautiful face but then she vanished beneath the waves.

“They are real,” Eren murmured.

“What was that?”

“Nothing, Uncle.” Eren knew better than to suggest to his uncle that he had seen a mermaid, even though he was certain he had. Perhaps they had come for the body of the beautiful woman when he had returned her to the water. He could not let her stay on land and he had returned her to the sea before his uncle could have her thrown in a nameless grave.

Eren hoped her family had come for her. He had never seen anyone more beautiful in his life. She could be put to rest with her family and mourned properly.

It was what she deserved.


My bad

Sorry for the sudden quiet. I had been going so well with things, but as is usually the case when that happens. I got sick. Sore throat, coughing up body parts, a bit of a fever all the fun stuff that you don’t usually expect to get in summer.

What this means is the limited brain supply that I have had has been going on to working on the books and not on warm-up writing. Although I did start a new character of a more RP persuasion, and maybe I’ll post up the first part of her story tomorrow.

My cough is lingering as they often do, but I’m feeling a lot better. That means I need to jump back into things. I am thinking of making Lyric Warm Ups a three a week kind of thing instead of daily to take some of the pressure off. And I think I am going to have to put off the release of the second episode of City of the Wiccad until March. Regrettable but needed. Hopefully by next week, I’ll have an exact date for release, I’ll reveal the name of the second episode and reveal the book cover. So plenty to happen between now and the new book.

And after that, I might let you all decide which book comes next. Perhaps you’ll pick the first of the Faeted Tales, or the second Shadow of Avalon book, or maybe you’ll all be clamouring for episode three of City of the Wiccad. We shall see.

But rest assured I shall try to be posting a bit more often again.

Until next time. Be stellar.


Lyric Warm-Up Writing Day 24 -She Can’t Relax


A bit late today, been drowning in images for the book cover for the next episode of City of the Wiccad. But we finally got words out, and Rachel wanted a little more of her time working at the dig site. Enjoy.

She Can’t Relax

Sometimes a person can mean well and yet be absolutely clueless as to the problem they were causing. Other people know full well how uncomfortable they are making someone else. They know and they keep doing it.

Rachel wasn’t sure which one this was.

She was showing Grant Matheson, of the University board, around the dig-site. Herger was away, he’d left with the most beautiful woman that Rachel had ever seen on an urgent personal matter, and Rachel was left to run the business side of the dig, while Matthew ran the dig side of things.

Mister Matheson, no please call him Grant, was there mostly as a photo opportunity. He was busy smiling at the camera as if he himself had done all the hard work to find the wonderfully preserved remains of this small Viking village. And he seemed more than happy to keep Rachel as a pretty face in the pictures too.

Much to the disgust of one of the other girls on the dig who muttered loudly enough for everyone to hear that she’d look better as the face of the finds. As usual, she was ignored.

Grant’s hand started to slip lower down Rachel’s back and she found herself frozen. This man was in control of her job and her income, she really could not afford an incident or to lose her job. She was not going to rely on her brother to help take care of Shaun’s school fees; which is what she was saving for through this contract.

But she was also not comfortable letting Grant’s hand slide any lower.

Matthew was observant as ever.

“Mister Matheson, I think you need to remove your hand.”

“Oh, I’m sorry Matthew, I did not realise she was your girlfriend.”

“She is Rachel, and it’s not the point if she’s anyone’s girlfriend. You should be treating her with respect.”

There were gasps from the others, Rachel felt pride in Matthew for doing the right thing, even if she should have done it herself.

“Oh. Of course. I apologise, Rachel.”

“Thank you,” Rachel replied. She was slowly learning not to say things like ‘It’s okay.’ Or ‘Don’t worry about it.’ Such things never encouraged people to actually change their behaviour, in fact, they let them off the hook of responsibility. Ger and Matthew were both two strong forces in getting Rachel to stand up for herself.

Grant seemed to be genuinely sorry he had behaved inappropriately and Rachel wondered if he might have learned something. This was hardly the first instance of such casual inappropriateness that she had encountered with some of the older members of the faculty and board members.

Rachel continued the tour and when Grant was ready to take his taxi back to the airport again he apologised once more.

“No harm was done,” Rachel smiled. “I’m glad that you, at least, understood.”

“You say that as though others haven’t?”

“Well, Mister Matheson, Grant, I am not the first woman with an association to the university to have been touched in ways she was not comfortable with.”

“Yes, I see.” Grant nodded. “I realise now I’ve done this often, and no one has ever pointed it out to me before. That is something in itself that we can work on, perhaps something you might be interested in assisting with when you finish this contract. The university could use you.”

“Thank you, Grant. I’ll definitely be considering it.”

Farewells were made and Rachel returned to the tent that was Herger’s office, and hers as his assistant. She sat down at his big desk and let out a sigh.

The offer of work after this was nice. They did not have long left on the dig at all now, which was one reason Herger had gone on holiday with his beautiful girlfriend. Not that Rachel was jealous, or bitter. It wasn’t as if over the course of this contract she had fallen head over heels in love with the professor who was her boss. It was not at all like she was dreaming of him nightly.

And it was not as if she’d hoped the pretty woman choked on some loose dirt and had to be flown away to leave Herger behind.

Not at all.

“Don’t stay in here all night again, Rach,” Matthew said poking his head inside. “I have no plans to come and wake you from another nap at the desk.”

“I promise, Matt. I’ll head home shortly. I just need to type up some notes about what Mister Matheson said and send them to Herger.”

“I’ll hold you to that, or I’ll hold you to me.” Matthew flashed a grin and winked at Rachel turning her cheeks a brilliant shade of pink. She blushed most every time he jokingly flirted with her.

“Goodnight, Matthew.”

“Goodnight, Miss Marsters.” Matthew winked again and left her alone to work.

Rachel turned on the laptop and opened an email addressing it to Herger. The usual greetings out of the way she began to type up any information he might need after the visit. The whole time though her mind was wandering to Herger suddenly arriving back and bursting into the tent, pulling her from the chair to place her on the desk before he kissed her soundly.

She always had her little daydreams. And when she got back to her room she would take a shower, not just because she was all dusty from the tour either.

Being in unrequited love with a side of lust with her boss really sucked.


Lyric Warm-Up Writing Day 23 – Starting to Get Old


Words were hard today, I had to resort to coffee to even try to brain and even then it took forever. But eventually, the randomly selected lyric yielded to the Muse. This character hasn’t been introduced to the world yet, but I hope she will be loved.

Words that I’m hearing are starting to get old

“Stop with the insults. Stop talking. Just shut up!”

Elisaveta screamed the words, at least she did in her head.  She did not say them aloud. She never did. No matter the hateful, hurtful things her mother said, no matter how her mother put her down and tore her down…Elisaveta never spoke back, not since she was a child.

She knew she was nothing but a disappointment to her mother. She knew her mother wanted nothing more for Elisaveta than a miserable life.

Elisaveta came from a long line of powerful witches. She was heir to amazing powers. And yet she had none. No matter how hard Elisaveta had tried, trained, no matter who taught her, she could not master even the most basic magic. And for it, her mother hated her.

Elisaveta held the phone away from her ears as her mother spat hate and words of disappointment down the line. Elisaveta let her mind wander, as she so often did when her speaking to her mother on their fortnightly chats. It was a defence mechanism. What she did not listen to could not hurt her.

Her mind drifted to dreams she had been having lately about a dark eyed, dark haired, well-spoken man. Each dream was different but so often her dreams were about him. (Something she never told her boyfriend.)

The night had been cold and she had taken her cloak when she snuck out. The travellers were on the beach, the only place they were allowed to stay by the pompous men in town led by the hateful man of God who had already burned two of her friends.

It was foolish to sneak out but she wanted to see the travellers and hear their music. She loved their music, she loved to dance and twirl to the wild melodies, so she risked it. Tonight there were new people in their group. And he was there standing beside the other musicians playing the violin. He looked so serious as he played but then he smiled and she found herself grinning because of it.

He looked at her and she giggled.

He held out a hand and she took it.

They danced beside the sand and the fire making shadows dance beyond them.

And then fire approached men with torches and ill intentions. And she feared the flames.

“Elisaveta are you still there or are you off on another empty-headed daydream?”

“I’m here mother. There are police outside and I…”

“Thought you would be rude to your own mother and ignore me?”

“As always, your words are getting old, Mother. I’ll talk to you later.”

And this Elisaveta said aloud. She actually stood up to the biggest bully in her life. She hung up and looked at her dazed reflection in the window glass.

She had stood up to her mother. Would wonders never cease?



Lyric Warm-Up Writing Day 22 – To A Happier Place


Today’s inspiration took a long while to get moving but now that it has I think it could become something larger one day, depending on interest and the willingness of the muse. So let me know if you want to know more…

To A Happier Place

“There once was a girl worthy of a song. It was not right for misery to be visited on her. He wanted to save her from it, take her away where they could not find her again. But they were only sixteen and there was little he could do to take her from her family. Instead, here family took her from him. They moved and he cried when she drove away.”

“Did she die?”

“What? No.” He shook his head and laughed at his daughter, good-naturedly of course. “You’re as dramatic as your mother.”

“Did he save her then, drive after her and take her away to a better place.”

“He did not.”

“Well, this is a terrible bedtime story, Dad.”

“You’re not letting me tell it.”


“I’ll skip to the good parts, shall I?”

From the hallway, Kaitlyn listened and knew that her husband was going to skip many of the parts. At least she hoped he would. The truth of the story was not one that needed to be shared with their daughter.

They had grown up as neighbours. Her childhood had not been happy, her family had moved away from the only good thing in her life. In their new home, things grew worse and she ran away.

A life on the street was not better, but it was not worse.

For a pretty young girl, she learned how to make money on the street. She did things she did not want to, for people she did not like. And that was where Declan had found her again.

They had not seen each other since they were sixteen years old but he had known her instantly. She had been thinner than then. Dirtier. Her clothes were all the wrong sizes. Her hair was a mess of knots and grease. She had dirt and blood dried on her face. The cleanest thing about her was the handcuffs that circled her wrists as she was lead to the police car by his partner.

“Kaitlyn? My god Kaitlyn, what are you doing here?”

“You know this girl?” His partner looked at her with disdain. “Wait, this is Kaitlyn?”

It took her a moment to recognise him. She had not seen him in such a long time and she had not thought to see him again. Plus, his face was hidden behind a thick beard now. “Declan?”

He had removed her handcuffs and despite the state of her, he had hugged her tight to him.

She was glad to see him of course, but she was also deeply horrified to have him see her like this. Declan had been her first love, in many ways, her only love. Her life did not lead towards love, she had given up her dignity but never her heart. It was the only thing she had left of her own.

But here he was, a good man, a lawman.

Over the next week, he had her charges dropped and he took her in. He was a good man, and he had never forgotten her. And when he looked at her, Declan saw something that Kaitlyn could not believe existed anymore. But how could she tell him who she had become, what she had done, while he looked at her so tenderly?

“Dad! That did not happen!” Kaitlyn was pulled back from the past to the now.

“It’s true. He arrested his one true love because she punched a bully in the teeth.”

“You did not. I mean he did not.” Sara, their daughter, giggled.

“Eh gads, you figured out the truth.”

Kaitlyn wondered as she listened to her husband and daughter if it was time to tell their daughter the truth. She was old enough to know the truth, and about her mother and her brother. Whether she would think differently of her mother was a question that Kaitlyn was scared to find the answer to.

But it was better to tell her the truth willingly. Secrets had a way of coming out. Kaitlyn knew that well, she had tried so hard to keep secrets from Declan, and they had all come out…

But that was part of the story, and to tell it right she needed to start at the beginning. But it was already late. Maybe she would tell it tomorrow…