When writers die they become books, which is, after all, not too bad an incarnation.-Jorge Luis Borges
Welcome to November and NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month)!! We will be finishing up Bound to the Gamma and introducing book two of the series Werewolf Trilogy
Tribal Wars – Legend of the Skin-Walkers
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She stood in the driveway watching the ambulance pull out. She bit her tongue to force back the tears. Tatiana felt more alone than she had ever felt in her life. The dam finally broke, and tears streamed down her face. She dropped to her knees and sobbed. Her father looked so weak and so human. She looked back at the house but could not get herself to enter. She could smell the sickness inside. Blinded by tears, she made a run for the forest. She shed her clothes once inside the safety of the trees and shifted before crashing in deeper. The forest around her was a blur. What if her father never came back? Where would she go? She would have no one. What had she done to the Moon Goddess to be forsaken like this? Her fear switched to anger, and she pushed forward faster and faster. Her muscles burned, but she kept running. She had no idea how far she had gone or in what direction, but as her wolf finally entered a clearing, her fur stood up on her neck. On the other side of the clearing stood a sizeable sandy-colored wolf with amber eyes fixed on her. His ears perked up, and his head cocked to the side. They stared at each other for a moment. She had never been this close to another wolf before. He was beautiful. Tia could not take her eyes off him. Tatiana wobbled slightly on her heavy legs and realized she better move to the cover of the trees. As she turned and took no more than two steps, she heard an earth-shattering snap, and pain rolled up her left leg. She collapsed and looked down at her leg. It was caught in a trap. Her white fur turning red as blood seeped from the wound. Forgetting about the other wolf, she let out a tortured howl. Stabbing at the trap with her free paw, she whimpered and whined in agony. Her head rolled back as the pain threatened to render her unconscious. It was then that she noticed the wolf again. He had moved across the clearing and was now standing above her, and this time he was not alone.
I don’t believe in being serious about anything. I think life is too serious to be taken seriously.-Ray Bradbury
You can, you should, and if you’re brave enought to start, you will. Writing is magic, as much the water of life as any other creative art.
The water is free so drink. Drink and be filled up.-Stephen King