Happy Halloween!! Stagnant Fear

Happy Halloween everyone! In honor of one of my favorite holidays, I'll repost for you one of my favorite, haunting sections of Scarlet Reign. 

 

Her irises shrank, regaining focus. The purple- grey haze that was her torment raged behind her narrowing pupils. Emily Wichum’s apparition floated through the trees and across the quad. Kate had never believed in the supernatural; this night would challenge her perceptions of such things.

She followed Emily across the quad and down the steps of the packing warehouse of an old sugar factory. Musty, stagnant aromas excreted from the damp cardboard strewn about the shadows of the place. She slowly made her way through the corridor, keeping aware of slight movements along the edges of her sight. Far ahead an image slowly materialized through the darkness. A large metal box inset into the concrete wall; the metal mesh gate across the opening bent around an object protruding from it.

As her eyes strained to focus, another image became more apparent. It appeared to be a polyester smock hanging from a hook on the wall. It hovered barely two feet off the floor, oddly moving like a sheet in the wind. There was no breeze here. A strange euphoric, light headed feeling took hold of her. The smock turned to face her then floated away through two closed double doors on the east side of the room.

Kate paused for a moment to calm herself. Her eyes adjusted further to the poor lighting and the metal box took on more shape, the shape of a corrugated box crusher. She could make out a shoe on the end of a protruding limb. The leg bent unnaturally at the shin and ran underneath the huge metal plunger. Fresh crimson liquid oozed down the lower portion of the gate washing over teeth and bone fragments that were scattered on the floor.

“Good lord!” she said covering her nose from the stench. “This person was crushed alive.”

The skull had imploded in such a manner that the eyeballs forced from the sockets. Kate stumbled, tripping over her own feet; she fell backward, passing through an eerie gray mist that hovered in the air. Along the wall lay a small pendant. It was in the shape of a name, a name she knew. It was Lisa’s.

Halloween Countdown 2012: Old West Outlaw

My life has been in a bit of a stasis the past month. A lot has been going on in my head of late, with the excitement of my first ever Disneyland trip for my birthday and a new bout of Hermititus rearing its head coupled with the daunting NaNoWriMo coming up in just a few days. I’m nowhere near ready for it, though I suppose that is the purpose, the nature of it. You’re not supposed to be ready for such a thing, you just do it. My participation is a “volunteerism” by a good writing friend, K. Bran Bardsley, who feels it will help me break the nasty writer’s block I’ve been in. I’ve found since that a few other friends are participating as well. Dana is one and I look forward to taking this trip with her as I admire her writing very much as well as that of K. Bran Bardsley.

In light of my favorite holiday quickly approaching and the NaNoWriMo participation, I’ll post a few spooky scenes from Scarlet Reign in the next few days leading up to Halloween and the kickoff of said challenge.

In this scene, Kate and Daniel have gone into Radean’s for breakfast when all hell is about to break loose.

Pallets of siding materials and roof sealer lay along the sidewalk just outside Raedean’s. Rae’s finally fixing up the place.

“There you go kids.” Rae says placing biscuits and gravy in front of us. “Don’t hesitate to holler if you need anything else.” She musses my hair. My face grows warm and Kate’s grin enhances my embarrassment.

“What?” I ask.

She tries to hide her smile. “Nothing.”

The leaves fall like golden-red snow. This time of year always makes me giddy; pumpkin pie and Halloween decorations. Kate loves it too.

Outside along the east window two workers clamor down off a rickety scaffolding. They enter the diner and order two eggs over easy with hash browns and gravy. The scaffolding begins to sway as if it wanted breakfast too. A linkage on the cross member fell loose and the structure came down hard. A black and yellow Dewalt nail gun slides through the debris and suspends itself by its power cord five feet above the ground; its cord tangles around the trigger and when pulled taught… two muffled pops brake out and two small star bursts appear in the diner window; a third pop shatters glass particles across tables and the dining room floor. Chaos is scattered screams and shouting. I lift and push the table toward Kate; she drops to the floor behind it. Taking three steps toward the counter, I used the stools to vault over grabbing Rae on my way down as a second burst of projectiles explode coffee pots above us. Glass fragments rain around our heads. The cord wraps against the trigger tighter and faster bursts come until the holding chamber is empty.

Swinging freely, twisting and writhing, it hangs there like an old west outlaw having spat its discontent at the patrons in the diner.

“Are you hurt Rae?”

“I’m fine dear. Thank you.” Her face is pale.

Everyone seemed unscathed save for one man who lay face down in the center of the room. He’s wearing a brown suit and tie. I hadn’t noticed him sitting at any of the tables and he wasn’t anyone I recognized. ‘Who is he?’ Someone asks. Another, side steps the pool of blood he lay in and tugs his wallet from his trousers holding it as if it was covered in toxic sludge.

“His name is Deacon Jones.” The man says and tosses the wallet away.

“I know that name.” Rae says “He’s the new pastor at the church on Hollister.

I feel my face flush. Queasy fear gnaws at my ulcer. I know that name too.

I hope you enjoy this piece. I’ll be expanding and perhaps changing much of my current Scarlet Reign material as NaNoWriMo progresses; expanding current chapters and building new ones. Much of the material I currently have is in need of serious editing and what I produce for the challenge will be much worse. Though I suppose the goal is to get it finished, then edit later. That is, if I can mute my annoying inner critic.

Follow Dana’s amazing work at Idiots and Earthquakes, and check out K.Bran Bardsley’s fantastic Ebook, Myth & Madness: The Prisonersof Solvor. NaNoWriMo is located at Nanowrimo.org.

Six Sentence Sunday: Casting Shadows

So, what’s my excuse for missing Six Sentence Sunday sign up this time? I spent the day with my little buddy at the water park. The moment we walked through the gate I was thirteen again and we had a blast. Too much sun, however, has me nursing my poor lobster legs and extended forehead. Today would have been a good day to have hair, or sunblock that isn't expired.

We discovered the secrets of the Pipeline Mines and conquered Mammoth Canyon; I feel like a rebel so I’m posting Six anyway. I can hack the fine for posting against the grain.

This week’s Six follow directly after last week’s Six.  

Light beams from a small window cast shadows along the wall adjacent to the machine. Kate’s jacket and one shoe lay near the glow. There’s a presence here. Only when I’m writing have I felt it before. I sense movement out the corner of my eye. To my left, a rabbit scampers out from under a pile of crates, pallets and wet corrugated material flicking wood shards in its wake.

Thank you for coming by to read. Please visit the amazing talent pool at Six Sentence Sunday for some great reads. My long list of favorite Sixers can be found by clicking these: … Wendy S. Russo, L.J. Kentowski, Loni Flowers, Kelly Seguin, Mae Clair, Sarah Ballance, Melinda Dozier, and Krystal Wade.

For pink women everywhere, looking for a new hero, I give you my friend in prose, fellow Sixer Mackenzie Crowne, with a Sunday Six so touching and encouraging you could never question the uncertainty of your own strength again. I'm grateful, for my luck, to have met you and grown to know you through your blog, Mac. Your story is amazing; you're amazing, and I plan to toot your horn to anyone who'll listen. 

Six Sentence Sunday: The Plot Thickens

I’m quickly running out of Sixes from Scarlet Reign. This bit comes from late in the story. I’m probably giving something away. When I’m published, you guys have to act surprised, ok? 

Kate has gone missing. Kidnapped? Ran off? Disappeared in thin air? We don’t know yet, but Daniel does and he’s beside himself to get to her. He finds her car parked at the old, abandoned sugar factory. Without hesitation he rushes in. 

~Smells of dusty burlap and stagnant water crawl along the base of the walls. Bits of corrugate and scraps of gunnysacks are strewn about the concrete floor. As soon as my eyes adjust to the dim light, I follow a metallic moan that echoes through the east corridor. The rectangle shape of machinery appears against the far wall; a corrugated box crusher. Its metal mesh door clangs open and the moaning ceases. A faint scent of Obsession slips past me.~ 

I sincerely appreciate you reading my Six each week. Please visit the amazing talent pool at Six Sentence Sunday for some great reads.  My long list of favorite Sixers can be found by clicking here … Wendy S. Russo, L.J. Kentowski, Loni Flowers, Kelly Seguin, Mackenzie Crowne, Mae Clair, Sarah Ballance, Melinda Dozier, and Krystal Wade.

Six Sentence Sunday: Sunrise over Newcastle

I hope you have all had a great week. It's been slightly stormy in my neck of the woods, though I must be part duck; I love this weather. Not much in life is more cozy than writing next to a window with a rain storm brewing outside and hot chocolate warming me on the inside.

So, welcome to another Six Sentence Sunday. Today is the day that nearly 200 writers post six sentences of a work in progress. I'm here to tell you, it's amazing the detail many of these artists can put into a mere six sentences. 

For my part, this Sunday's bit comes from Chapter 2 of my novel in progress, Scarlet Reign. It's the morning after Daniel has arrived in Newcastle and Kate has driven over for a visit. 

          ~The sunrise this morning is dull, pastel red with a hint of orange. It pressed last night’s storm back, but it’s strangely ominous within itself. A few hot air balloons hover along the ridge across the valley, just beyond the golf course that dad’s house overlooks.

            Shortly after nine a.m. Kate’s emerald green Grand Prix turns into the drive. She steps out and moves up the path to the back porch.

            “Hey best friend,” I say.~ 

Please, support these amazing artists and blog hop to other Six Sentence Sunday posts; you won't be disappointed.  Here are a few of my very favorite Sixers: Mackenzie Crowne, L.J. Kentowski, Mae Clair, Wendy S. Russo, Loni Flowers and Kelly Seguin. 

Thank you so much for visiting! I hope you enjoy your stay here. 

Scarlet Reign: Story Within a Story

Ok, not that supply and demand is actually "demanding" it, here is a small supply from Scarlet Reign. Man that was corny. Did I mention it's 1 am here and three hours past my bed time? I'm also tipsy on two Kahlua and Cremes' 

The following is from a scene with Daniel and Kate shortly after Daniel arrives back home in Newcastle to take care of his father's "estate". Kate finds Daniel on the back porch of his father's home doing a little writing. 

“Hey best friend.” I say.

            “Hey yourself.” She sits close and smiles. “Is this new stuff?” She gathers a few papers that lay on the table.

            “Sort of. A little mystery I tinker with over the years.”

           

            Her irises shrank, regaining focus. The purple- grey haze that was her torment raged behind her narrowing pupils. Emily Wichum’s apparition floated through the trees and across the quad. Kate had never believed in the supernatural; this night would challenge her perceptions of such things.

            She followed Emily across the quad and down the steps of the packing warehouse of an old sugar factory. Musty, stagnant aromas excreted from the damp cardboard strewn about the shadows of the place. She slowly made her way through the corridor, keeping aware of slight movements along the edges of her sight. Far ahead an image slowly materialized through the darkness. A large metal box inset into the concrete wall; the metal mesh gate across the opening bent around an object protruding from it. 

As her eyes strained to focus, another image became more apparent. It appeared to be a polyester smock hanging from a hook on the wall. It hovered barely two feet off the floor, oddly moving like a sheet in the wind. There was no breeze here. A strange euphoric, light headed feeling took hold of her. The smock turned to face her then floated away through two closed double doors on the east side of the room.

Kate paused for a moment to calm herself. Her eyes adjusted further to the poor lighting and the metal box took on more shape, the shape of a corrugated box crusher. She could make out a shoe on the end of a protruding limb. The leg bent unnaturally at the shin and ran underneath the huge metal plunger. Fresh crimson liquid oozed down the lower portion of the gate washing over teeth and bone fragments that were scattered on the floor.

“Good lord!” she said covering her nose from the stench. “This person was crushed alive.”

The skull had imploded in such a manner that the eyeballs forced from the sockets. Kate stumbled, tripping over her own feet; she fell backward, passing through an eerie gray mist that hovered in the air. Along the wall lay a small pendant. It was in the shape of a name, a name she knew. It was Lisa’s.

Scarlet Reign

By Daniel Fallon

“Daniel?” Kate’s tone of surprise blends with crinkling paper.

“It’s only a first draft. It’s not supposed to be good yet.” I say.

“It’s not that. Your writing has always been beautiful…” She sighed. “This just isn’t you. I’ve never known you to have a morbid side.”

I hope you enjoy! Thank you for visiting! I really do appreciate all of you for stopping in to my corner of the net. 

Six Sentence Sunday: The Power of Words

This week’s Six also comes from Scarlet Reign … from a scene in which Rick, a close friend of Daniel’s father (Drake), is being described. Rick was a journalist during the Vietnam War covering Drake’s combat unit, and the following six lines are describing Rick’s journalistic writing.

 

~The men became so real on the page his readers lived, hiked, and died with them. They could feel the waterlogged feet, jungle rot, and the sting of vines on their skin. They could smell napalm in their safe air and hear screams of terror in the back of their minds. Rick’s writing was respected by the men because he gave each a face. He put their face to individual actions. He made them accountable for those actions, and made them heroes for them.~

Please check out the official Six Sentence Sunday site for more fantastic author’s posts. My honorable mentions this week are Kelly Seguin, Krystal Wade, Wendy S. Russo, Loni Flowers and L.J. Kentowski. 

Thank you for visiting my page and commenting each week. I really appreciate your time. 

Six Sentence Sunday: Sugar on Tripe

Happy Mother’s Day to all the mothers I am reaching. Here’s wishing you a frabjious day. I hope you know how wonderful and amazing you are. My mother firmly believes, and firmly instilled within us, that her kids can be anything they wish. I strive to prove her right after all these years, before her time on earth passes. I love you, Mom!

If you read my Six from last week, the following Six are the very next lines in the scene. Kate is welcoming Daniel home when he arrives in town to settle his father’s affairs after his untimely death.

~The gentleman seated next to me leans over, “Her sarcasm always smell like perfume?”

            I nod, “it’s kind of like sugar on tripe isn’t it?”

            The old man winks.

            “Well, it’s good to see you too,” She says motioning with her head. “I’ve a table in the back.”

            I let my school boy grin fade; with a growing touch of shame, I follow her. ~

Next week I’ll choose something from later in the story. I sincerely hope you enjoy. Please visit the Six Sentence Sunday site to follow more amazing authors. Also, be sure to check my Favorite Author Blogs link at the top of this page to visit the blogs of some very talented writers.

Watch for Wilde’s Fire by Krystal Wade to hit bookstore shelves today!! Visit her blog for official links to find out how to get your copy.

Six Sentence Sunday: My First Six

My first Six Sentence Sunday post comes from my novel Scarlet Reign. The main character Daniel has traveled back to his home town to settle his father’s affairs after his untimely death. Here, as he’s just arriving in town, he runs into an ex-flame while having lunch at the local diner.

         ~   “I’ve missed you Kate,” I say. There’s no need to turn around. The fragrance had anchored itself to her, branding my consciousness with her face and with it, images of walks along the View, laughing until our mouths hurt, and making snow angels and hot chocolate. There were even images of kissing in the moonlight, though our relationship fell short of that. I had even immortalized her in my Kate Darkstar mystery’s.

            “You remember my name, I’m impressed college boy.” ~

I hope you enjoyed this. Next week I’ll post the next Six in the story and I’ll continue this way as linearly as possible.

Please visit the Six Sentence Sunday posts of a few of my favorite authors here: Krystal Wade, Kelly Seguin, L.J. Kentowski and Jess Schira. Find links to all Six Sentence Sunday participants at the official web site.

Thanks for visiting!

Scarlet Reign Intro

“Demons only chase you when you run.” His father had said.

            The recollection was as stagnant as the sweat that beaded upon Logan’s forehead. Its stench filtered through the metal mesh that held him. Fear gave way to claustrophobic panic. The machines’ plunger had pressed down far enough that he could only move his legs. He tried to gain leverage against the steel door with his knees, forcing his back against the side and pressing outward. The mesh door bowed slightly but held fast.

            If the plunger drops any further, he thought… it’s mockery to stop it short!

            “You’re not real!” he shouted.

            A hollow hum began to resonate. Metal against metal echoed through the chamber. Searing pain built up along Logan’s spine. His right arm and leg shattered under the pressure exploding bone shards through his skin.

            Logan was thirteen when his father spoke of demons. He had no idea what was meant by them then. He knew now. He knew it too late. In all his imagination he wondered; is this really the way I’m going to die?

Intro to Scarlet Reign

By M.L. Falconer