Playing with digital art...

Things I have made today :)

I think this turned out pretty neat.

Idk... I wanted a girl w/ a gun.

This is Quinn from the Vic series <3

I made this for the Insignificant page.

Apocalips: Episode 2- Happily Ever Astor

Whew! I have been wanting to post Episode 2 for quite awhile, but it needed some help.

I have wonderful friends who gave it that much needed help!

This picks up RIGHT where Episode 1 left off, so you will need to read that first.

Apocalips: Episode 1- Eat and Greet

*****

I place a finger to my lips to urge the janitor to keep quiet. To save him, and myself, I have to go undetected by them. Searching the surroundings, I find a broken tree limb about ten feet away, precariously close to those things. I’ll have to be stealthy to get to it, which is not one of my finer qualities.

I take one unsteady step before a jumble of nerves causes me to sprint. My hand just closes around the fat end of the branch when I hear three loud pops and change route to dive behind the corner of the building. 

“What the fuck were you gonna do with the stick? These aren’t dogs. Fucking women.”

A peek around the corner reveals a garishly tall man with a buzz cut and well-worn cowboy boots. He is busy holstering his weapon and paying me no mind when I finally find my spine again.

“Who’re you?” I mean for my voice to sound rough and demanding but I barely manage a squeak.

“Who am I? I’m the guy that just saved your God damn ass, that’s who. Now, who’re you?”

“I’m Tonya.”

“Well, Tonya, did you really think that stick was going to do much?”

Remembering the janitor, I look beyond my rescuer only to find the janitor as well as the things all have holes in their heads. Three shots. “What did you do?” I clutch the branch.

“He woulda changed. I did the humane thing and ended it. Don’t go getting too many ideas about rescuing people once they’ve been bitten. They all change; it’s just a matter of time. Some in minutes, others an hour or two.”

“Who are you and why do you know so much about them?”

“Names Astor, Jakob Astor. And I know because I have seen other people change. I’ve got together a group of hunters and lawmen after I saw what was happening. In just a couple of hours we’ve lost about half dozen of them, dumb asses. Don’t worry, though, we have a place for the women and children and we’ve already stocked it up.”

“How completely… sexist of you.” I paint my most saccharine smile on my face.

“You were about to try and beat two of ’em, off of a dead man, with a damn twig. All due respect, but that was about to be a damn fool move. Your ass is lucky I was around.”

“Jan!” Phil flies around the corner and comes eye to eye with the business end of Astor’s handgun. The man moves quickly.

“Hold the fuck up! Now, who the fuck are you?” Astor asks.

“Who are you? Jan, are you alright?” His eyes don’t leave Astor’s face.

“I’m alright, Phil. He, kind of, saved me from two of them.”

“You little vixen, you said your name was Tonya, now which is it?”

“My real names Jan.”

He re-holsters his gun, “You’re already too much trouble, d’ya know that?”

“She won’t be your problem anymore. She is with me.”

“Now, wait a second here…” I interject. Problem?

“Oh yeah? You her husband or something?” 

“No, but we aren’t going anywhere with you.”

“And why’s that? Could be your best chance of surviving.”

“Excuse me but…” 

“Falling in with a vigilante who is armed to the teeth isn’t gonna be any safer for us than the church.” Phil’s hand wraps around my arm and he pulls me to his side. If either of them would bother to look at me, they’d wither and die. Alas, they are locked in a cock fight.

“The big gothic fair, over there?” 

“Yeah, survivors are settling in there.” Phil says.

“’Fraid God didn’t do too much saving of those folk. Nearly all have been eaten or changed. Rest scattered like flies. My group got what we could of the supplies. How long you been gone from there?”

There is a long pause while Phil looks to the grass for answers, “I dunno, but it can’t have been longer than a couple hours now.” His fingers loosen.

“Sounds like you got out just in time.”

“The infected?” 

“Terminated,” Astor doesn’t even flinch.

“How can you guys be so cool while talking about the end of the fucking world?”

“Don’t be so dramatic, sweetheart. We don’t even know how far this pandemic stretches. It may not be far past city limits. That’s why we are working on becoming mobile.” Astor crosses his arms over his chest.

“Without any vehicles?” Phil is composed again.

“How do you figure the pioneers got across the country, huh?”

“I don’t recall any flesh eating monsters after the pioneers in those stories.” I point out.

“No, but we do have better weaponry these days.” 

“Whose side are you taking, Phil?” I tilt my head at him.

“We have a wagon and a couple of horses. We really need to get outta here though. That body is sitting there like chum for a Great White.”

It’s hard not to simultaneously cringe and be in awe of Astor’s candor about the situation. Of course, a couple of hours in and I am already starting to harden, some. I hadn’t thought much about the janitor in the last few minutes, but we have drifted to less than five feet from his body. 

“I agree, we need to move away.” I make my way back towards the playground, not bothering to make sure the men are following. My stomach is in knots and it might be best if they aren’t too close. 

“Jan, you ok?” Phil says from behind me.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m peachy.” 

“You look the color of the sidewalk.” Reassuring, he was not.

“Ha! Thanks. This whole day has been pretty damn disturbing and I just need a minute to… gather myself, I guess.” Bracing hands on my knees, I bend and start counting breaths. 

“C’mere.” 

“What are you doing?”

“This is what people call a hug. It is often used to bring comfort to other human beings.”

“You didn’t strike me as the hugging type. Or the sarcastic type, for that matter.”

“Well, this does feel a bit like hugging a two-by-four. Would you relax?”

I begin to cry, laugh hysterically, and cling desperately to Phil’s shoulders all in the same moment. 

“I’m losing it.” I manage between sobs.

“I think you are doing as well as can be expected.” His giant hand presses my head to his chest, “In fact, I’ve seen men do a lot worse. Don’t let Astor get to you.” 

“If it was only him…”

“I know. C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up and go check out Astor’s group. I am not sure how much I trust him, yet.” 

“Phil?”

“Yeah,”

“Thanks.” I manage a genuine smile. “No, I mean it. Besides the obvious fact that you saved my life by waking me up, you are helping me keep some sanity intact. And that is appreciated.”

“You have no reason to thank me.” He wipes away the remaining tears from my cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. “Let’s go.”

***

Astor’s “group” is no more than a few backwoods rednecks, with guns and bows. 

“The women are over here.” He leads us to the back of the camp and into a tent, “Rose, is the unofficial den mother of the group. She is a second mother to most of us who grew up here.”

“I’ve been asking you to call me Miss Fitz since you were seven, Jakob.”

“And I’ve asked you to call me Astor. Stale-mate.” 

“Fair ‘nough,” She smiles and winks at me “And who are these folks?”

“Found ‘em in town. This is Phil, and this here is Jan. They were headed for the church.”

“Oh, dear. Y’all didn’t have family in there did you?” Her white eyebrows pinch with concern.

“No, ma’am. I had no family to speak of,” Phil answers.

“Uh, no. I only have a brother who lives out of the country. Do we know if this is local, national, global?” I look to each face, but Rose is the first to speak.

“Here, have some tea, dear,” she says as she lifts a cup to me. “We have no communication lines workin’. We only hear what we can from people movin’ by us. Far as I can tell it’s at least got a thirty mile radius on us.”

“Astor! Come to the front. They’ve found us!” A teenage boy sticks his head through the flaps. 

“Rose, you keep the women and children here. Understand? You don’t come out until one of us come get you and prove to be human.” Phil come with me, brother.”

“Yes, Jakob they won’t be gettin’ past me.” Rose lifts a gun the size of her arm from under the table she is serving tea at. The weapon is at odds with the serene, elderly woman sitting across from me.

“Phil, come with me, brother.” At Phil’s nod, they turn towards the action.

“Phil?” I clutch his shirt sleeve.

“I’m gonna go help them. Take my gun and protect the kids.”

At the front of the camp, men are shouting and more gunfire erupts. Women and children begin to file into the stuffy tent. Phil squeezes my hand and follows Astor out of the tent.

“Wait,” I look at the gun in my hand, “What will you have for protection?”

“I wasn’t gonna send him in unarmed, sweetheart. Rick, get this man a fucking shotgun!”

“See, I’ll be fine. Now get back in there--“

I silence his reassurance with a kiss. It’s urgent and hard, and takes us both completely by surprise. It is a few stunned seconds before he returns the passion tenfold. He laces a hand through my hair and gently pulls my head away. The surroundings start to fade back into our reality. Making-out amidst the apocalypse is not a smooth move.

“Good luck.” I expel a breath.

“Thank you?” 

What is right...

For me?

That is a damn fine question. One I  have been struggling with for some time.

Maybe, I am not supposed to write but continue to support those who do write. I sometimes think that if I were meant to write it would just flow out of me.

That is so not happening.

Well, Ruthie just kind of worked like that but that was a lucky break. Lol. It also happens to be one of my favorite pieces I've written.

I really enjoy promoting and helping authors out in anyway I can. It is fulfilling in its own way.

Obviously I enjoy reading! Lol. But maybe this has led me to some delusional frame of mind that said, 

"Hey, you should do that!"

Like knitting, or sewing or baking. I enjoy knitted scarves and elaborate cakes but this doesn't mean I should be the one to make them! And I have dabbled in all 3 of those by the way. 

This is the cover pic for my personal fb page. Love it!

Anyways, I am going to keep at it because I do enjoy it. That is the point to it, right?

Keep doing what you enjoy. :)

Happy reading, writing, living, or whatever it is you do!

** We are under a winter storm warning here. Yup, 3-6" of snow in mid(ish) April. **

What I am doing...

Nothing too terribly exciting.

JK! I get the pleasure of possibly being THE cover designer for C.M. Wright's Vampire novel she is working on now. In between working on that and Managing I Heart Books, I am beta reading and reviewing a few books for some authors/friends. 

What time is left, and not spent being domestic, is used on writing! Unfortunately there is not a ton of time and a million idea's in my head. I need to organize my thoughts. LOL. To help with that I have decided I will be taking a break from IHB duties next week. Hopefully I get some time to focus!

(Not that I don't enjoy bending over backwards for IHB fans!)

CHEEEEESE!

Ruthie

This is a short (666 word) story that I literally just whipped out but I am quite pleased with it. I hope you get a clear enough picture of Ruthie, as I see her in my head. I had actually started this story out with a different sort of twist... it morphed.

“Ruthanne, open your eyes.”
“But it is easier to feel the music if they are closed.”

“There is no music. The only sound is of the others down the hall. Open them.”

“You don’t hear it because your eyes are open. It’s pretty.”

“There is no music and we need to have a talk, which would be easier if I knew you were looking at me.”

“Fine, it stopped anyways because you won’t be quiet. What is it?”

“Ruthie, do you know why you are here?”

“My mom sent me. She says I will feel better soon and come back home.”

“You aren’t going home. That is just no longer a possibility for you. Do you understand why that is?”

“No, my mom said I could come back. I am her child, not yours. If she wants me back she can take me back.”

“I am afraid it is not that simple, Ruthanne. Do you remember what happened the night you were brought here?”

“Sure. I was upset because mommy wouldn’t allow me a second piece of cake even though it was my birthday. I had picked out the My Little Pony’s theme, you know that? Someday I’ want to have a pony.”

“What happened when you were upset?”

“I--  I, uh, I think I knocked my cake to the floor. Oh, no! Is my mom still upset about that? I ruined that nice cake. Can I apologize to her? I can call her right?”

“Maybe you can make a call later. Let’s finish our talk.”

“She must be so upset with me.”

“Ruthie, what happened after you knocked the cake down, do you recall?”

“I was so mad at my mom. It was my seventeenth birthday, and I had been good all day, and I had picked up my room, and I had picked out the cake! It was my cake. She never liked me, my mom. I am different than precious Kristine and different wasn’t good enough.”

“Different isn’t always bad. What happened after the cake fell?”

“I think my mom bent to clean up the mess. She was yelling something at me, you know, I don’t even remember what but I was still so mad.”

“Ruthie did you do anything after that, before the police came?”

“I called the police. I remembered to dial 9-1-1 just like mom had shown me. When I saw mommy laying on the floor with all that blood around her I just knew I had to call the ambulance. Is that why I can’t go home, because she is in the hospital?”

“Do you remember how your mom started bleeding?”

“She was yelling those things at me and I saw the knives on the counter in their wooden thing. I am not supposed to touch the knives, you know. You have to be very super careful.”

“Yes, you should be very careful with sharp things. Good job. When you saw the knives what did you do?”

“I grabbed one and I made mom stop yelling at me, of course. It wasn’t easy. The cat seemed to shut up a lot faster when I did it to him. Maybe because moms bigger.”

“How did you make your mother stop yelling?”

“That is a silly question, you know that?”

“Why is that silly?”

“I can tell by the way you look at me that you know how I made her stop.”

“But will you tell me, anyways?”

“I took the knife and put the sharp side under her chin and sawed back and forth, back and forth, until she stopped yelling. She couldn’t tell me ‘no’ then, could she?”

“Do you realize what happens when you cut someone’s throat, Ruthie?”

“She stops yelling. That’s what I am telling you, you know.”

“After that,”

“They die. So, when can I call my mom?”

“When you cut your mothers throat she died. Do you understand what that means?”

“She stopped breathing.”

“Yes, and if we don’t breathe what happens?”

“We die?”