Friday, 19 October 2007

Mernac on You Tube 2

Mernac on YouTube

Ahab Flanders

Of the world below, creeping amongst the catacombs and sewers of the city. There is a man, a man once called 'Ahab Flanders'. But now he is 'Osiris of The Underworld'.

It could've been good fortune, though Osiris, knew better than that. He sensed her presence, he smelled her blood. It had been years; years of waiting for her. Searching the world, it had finally dawned on him to go back to the provincial town of Arrat and lurk in the shadows of Wayot.

Now after waiting a year, she was here. Back in the slums. All he had to do was trust his nose and he would find her.

Osiris, squat low in the cavern. Recalling his own awakening and the events surrounding his demise. He blamed Polly, his wife. The women that he had married in a secret ceremony in Arrat. With only one or two of their dearest friends to witness their love. But now he hissed at the thought of her betrayal.

After he had regained his concisenesses and was able to think more clearly, he wondered where Polly had disappeared to. Then he saw her, standing against the door, holding her throat, blood trickling between her fingers and tears streaming in silent cascades down her face. In her spare hand she held the stake, that should of ended his life.

Mighty vampire slayer that she was. He knew her for what she was and he howled in rage. Not recalling that she was his wife, once.

Pain, greeted his eyes as she moved backwards and flung the door open.
Too bright, too bright. His mind screamed as he staggered back, waves of disorientation swelled and roiled. He squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the sensation to go. But memories flooded his mind, finally he realized.

Vampire. I'm a vampire and she is my wife, the mighty 'Epona of The Thirsty' as she was known in the underworld, serial killer of vampires.'
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Polly Flanders

Polly smiled as she passed some of the images. Recalling some of her old friends and their tales. Momentarily she pauses as she spots an image of Ahab in his younger days it had been given the honor.

"Polly, they believe he has passed." Regina spoke softly, her grating smoke laden voice now disappeared and the true voice, of a cultured lady came into play.


"Aah, now there is the voice, I prefer," turning to face her friend, a slight sadness in her eyes. "Yes, you told me that. I can hardly believe it myself."

Together they sat at the larger table, pushing aside the spare settings. Making themselves at home. Polly did not feel hungry, but allowed Regina to whisper a order to the young man that had entered the room. Regina's scrutiny was intense as she watched Polly.

"What?" a definite sharpness was in Polly's voice.

"Nothing, everything, whats been happening?" Regina's voice softened as did her eyes, as she realized that Polly had been thinking of Ahab. "Tell me what happened after I saw you last..." her eyes drifted "Oh my, its been ten years." Realization dawned, making Regina feel utterly stupid.

Polly leaned forward over the table, and the candle flames danced. She whispered "He is near. I feel him..." her hand touched the two puffy scars on her neck. A movement that was not missed by Regina.

"No Polly, he didn't." Polly stood rapidly, sending the empty glasses flying, as she rushed around, flicking the hair from her friends neck and gasping. "He did."

Sobs wracked at Polly's body with such force that she shook off, Regina's attempts to console her. Her arms gripped the other side of the table for comfort. But Regina pried her fingers loose and brought her arms to her sides and then held her tightly.

"Tell me, of the past Polly." She whispered, into her friends hair. "When you both left, you were very much in love, you were both on the road to become the greatest lean, modern, and vicious of all the Serial vampire killers."

Polly's tremors had lessened and the tears, ran silently, down her face as rain runs down glass. Her head hung low, her bangs flattened against Regina's breasts. A look of hope from Regina, made Polly take a gulping breath.

"Alright, but let go of me."

The serving boy, choose that moment to return. On a wheeled trolley, he sallied forth with steaming platters of vegetables and rice. Beside the platters there was a huge coffee urn, sitting over the top of its own little flame. Just enough to keep the coffee warm.

Regina, quickly shooed the lad from the room, with a per-functionary look and bade him to close the door. Turning, she served bowls of the sweet smelling vegetables. Her look at Polly, was enough to make her force feed herself. Polly knew from past experience that her friend would do exactly that if it came to it and right now, it seemed she did have a hunger for anything that did not bleed.

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Thursday, 18 October 2007

Wandering through the Ether

Actually going through my Blogger neighborhood. Reading and doing my usual not commenting, though was tempted to leave a laugh in Miscellaneous Adventures of an Aussie Mum. Who by the way gives me a chuckle on a regular basis. Karen if you happen to read this, keep making a night-shift worker smile and laugh.

Where was I? Oh yeah, dropped in to read some of Listening..Learning..Living and stumbled across this. Like bokjae, I'm a sucker for those things and well took the quiz. See the side bar for the results.

Don't be offended with my not commenting. Its just my way. I do similar with nearly all that I read. Though I do sit back, very often and think. Which is a great sign to you and if I happen to have made a comment. All the better.

I'll explain. I am the creator of Anemo Eolic, but I also work Night-shift and of late; every-time the phone rings its my employer asking me to work extra shifts. You know how hard it is to get to sleep, during beautiful sunny days! Also as soon as my finger tips hit the keyboard, I'm interrupted. By Hubby, Son or neighbors. I could sit in the lounge for hours and stare at the idiot box and no one would ask me a thing or request anything. But as soon as I turn on the NB and put my finger tips on the keys...then my train of thought is lost.

Hence the no commenting. I swear they hear the click of the keys and know I'm doing something for myself and destroy the train of thought. Its hard enough of late to be clear thinking, when I'm so tired. I have to do lists and mountains of penned notes (Spider scratchings don't make a noise!), that need transcribing. Plus 4-5 novels that I am working on.

Am I being crazy? I so want my hubby to go back to work, so as 1. I can sleep peacefully. 2. Spend the two hours I have available to quickly read and write a little. (I sneak the house work in and am usually highly organized.)

Explanation: Hubby has been out of work, for close to 8 weeks. Meaning that to maintain the required wages to cover expenses. I have to work harder and longer. Calculated time at home, when not sleeping and hubby and son home. 1 hour, with them both. Not much time to squeeze big family discussions in. They both vie for attention during this time.

If I sound annoyed and whiny. I am! Plus I've not been feeling 100%, not eating properly and sleeping as soundly as I would like. You can only take it for so long and I feel I am nearing the end of my tether. Get a JOB! or at least make out your looking for one. Write your resume. Has he done any of these things? NO! Get a Job!
No please, just get a job or any of the above. I want and need some quiet time.

OK, done whining.

I'll try to highlight two outside blogs, every now and again and share with other bloggers.

The Battle for Traddlebow

Fantasy Saga is now at 47 chapters with the completion of Fireside Chat: Hogdin and growing. Come enjoy this epic high fantasy saga written with the contributions of numerous writers an artists from around the world.


September Sexy Art Contest Winner Announced!

Quonts Question of the week 14 FREE fantasy fiction

What’s Your Happy Place?

(This can be an actual place or just something you do.)

Anemo's Reply: Happy Places. The whole of Mernac is my happy place. It is the topographical point, where I get to interact with the many characters that walk the rich soil. From the one to the other. From the mothers to the fathers. My sisters and my brothers, play with silly old me, flighty as I may be.

Creators Reply: Easy to answer. My happy place is watching a child come into the world, its watching the dawning realization of a child (toilet training, reading, writing and social interactions.)that they are not the center of the world, its listening to the elderly reflecting on their lives, its getting hugs from my loved ones, its listening to the full belly laughs of anyone, its sharing a smile with a stranger.

My happy places are many vast things, its looking at the positives of life and enjoying a curve ball that is occasionally thrown.
Last night my happy place was watching my son perform in his first school concert. A great sense of pleasure to watch a child that thought he could not retain a simple dance routine. Yet he did and proved himself wrong, which led him into a happy place.

Tuesday, 16 October 2007

Polly Flanders

"Thanks for the offer, but not today." Polly chuckles. "Maybe another time, we can reacquaint ourselves." Polly reaches out to her friend, linking her arm with Regina's . They walk out of the lane, heading north down Trollop street, towards a cafe. "For now lets share a brew and some tales of old and new."


The darkening horizon, told nothing of the horrors that were dogging the streets of the provincial town of Arrat. Let alone the strip known as Wayot, where many maddened crowds of persons could be found. The purple blue sky, appeared the same across the world, but in Polly's world. It meant that the things mothers and fathers warned their children about, were waking and coming out to mix with the crowds.

Polly and Regina, knew that there were some cities and towns that retained their mythical flavor and an aura of romance, no matter what. But it was certainly not Wayot. Here it was anything but romantic, unless you were under the influence of some drug, common and obscure.

Doggy do littered the streets, human waste of all kinds, and other refuse, alive and dead. The smell was unbearable to those not used to moving around in this particular corner of Arrat. It was simply the world of solicited love.

As Polly and Regina were regulars of the area. Both with entirely different purposes, they knew the better establishments and that was one of the places they were headed towards. A soft drizzle had descended onto the town, sunset anywhere else would have been beautiful. The place they entered was nondescript, just a little door. Fronted with two large gargoyles and planters filled with living garlic. Black painted brick, surrounded the door of heavy oak, its brass strappings mirroring the rear view for those that entered.

Once inside, a bevy of human kind sat quietly eating and drinking. Their conversations hushed, only the occasional outburst of laughter could be heard. Polly followed Regina down the center of the room and then they turned left. Into what Regina had named as her private 'La Ritz'.

A little room, not at all decadent. Tastefully furnished, with two wing backed arm chairs in one corner and a neat little caffe table. Against the wall there was a side board dresser that held, small quantities of alcohol, that would not normally be seen on this side of town. The floors held delightful mishy rugs of the softest hues, of purple and blue, they were extremely soft under foot. In the center of the room there was two tables. One catering for a party of four and the other for more intimate dinners.

Subdued lighting and furnace generated heat, made the room inviting. On the purple black walls, silver framed sketches of the area hung with their own down lights. Some where sketches of the older buildings, others were old past residents that had held a special place in the proprietors heart. To many of the patrons that used this room it was deemed a honor to have your portrait hung on these walls. In silent remembrance of some of the best known characters of Arrat and Wayot.

Polly smiled as she passed some of the images. Recalling some of old friends and their tales. Momentarily she paused as she saw a image of Ahab in his younger days had been given the honor.

"Polly, they believe he has passed." Regina spoke softly, her grating smoke laden voice now disappeared and the true voice, of a cultured lady came into play.

To be continued...
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Monday, 15 October 2007

Mernac at a Glance FREE fantasy fiction

Mernac Link Guide for other Relevant Arenas.

It's taken me a little while, but here are some more interesting links that writers may be interested in. If I happen to have doubled up on links please do drop me a line or if you know of a great link, please let me know and I'll add it to the listings.

Some of these sites allow you to join as members. I'll leave that up to you to decide.

Bartelby is a preeminent internet publisher of literature and reference material. Well worth the look.

Google translator now this was fun to play with and is a huge benefit to any writer/reader that is looking to translate text/s. It can not only translate entire sections, but web pages as well.
Yeah showing the novice in me.

Info please looking some type of information? Why not stop here first and take a look, you never know what you will find and how it will assist you, until you try. Here is another aspect that (even I) could be utilized more often.

CEO Express the one stop shop. There is a huge range of links, it may seem a little overwhelming. But believe me it is one site that is worth bookmarking.

The Writing Center is a public access handbook designed and maintained by the staff & students of the University of Richmond. Plenty of links and reading material. May not directly relate to writing Fantasy, but the principles are basically the same.

Urban Dictionary, ever wondered what the? Well find the answer to those questions here. Pizza tumor had me giggling, I knew what a tramp stamp was (I swear I don't have one!).

The Scriptorium a room set apart for writing. The name says it all. Contains a plethora of links.

Poynter online is a blog resource that provides plenty of assistance to the journalist. That can be utilized by any person that wishes to write better.

Welcome to The Chicago Manual of Style Online—the indispensable online reference for all who work with words. Manuscript Preparation, The tools provided here are intended to help authors prepare manuscripts for submission to our press. They will also be of use to writers, editors, and publishers at other organizations who are looking for models for procedure and content. Chicago-Style Citation Quick Guide.
(Yes borrowed their first paragraphs, thanks given to the site.)

Writing Handbook an wide range of links on the Research and Argument: a tool for teachers and students.

Found this whilst skipping around the ether and was surprised. Though can understand the reasoning. Bad words, naughty words that we all use. Sometimes way too often, and I do not mean cussing.

APA Research Style Crib Sheet. I'm still to look through this. I will, eventually. This I feel will assist with a small (coughs) project that is sitting on the back burner.

Visuwords looks at a different way of presenting a dictionary and thesaurus. Great for the Visual learner. (What me, never.)

Well thats all for now. Hoping that you find some of these helpful, even if you take one small thing away. It all ultimately furthers the grey matter.