January 21, 2015

Watery Wednesday

In an effort to be better about blogging this year and to share some of my pieces that I absolutely love, I'm introducing WATERY WEDNESDAY'S on my blog. Each Wednesday I'll add a couple of pages (in order) from my award-winning Water Crisis Chronicles. Today we're continuing with Chapter 1 of  WATERFALL.




ONE

Zach (continued)

Our particular gated community outside of Philadelphia had become one of the refuge sites. Now we had armed guardsmen protecting our gates as the threats of national and international terrorism continued to grow. I’d heard that several of the upstream water sources had been hijacked by militia and the like. Most of the water had already been poisoned by industry years ago, but the few good sources left were now being targeted. I wondered if that’s why our rations had been reduced.
“What are you looking at?” snapped the soldier.
I hadn’t realized how long I’d been standing there so I quickly replied, “Just trying to figure out if it’s worth hurting my Jeep to back over you.”
“You’re an ass,” he said.
I gave him my one finger salute and jumped in the car. Revving the gas a few times, I checked the rearview mirror to see if the soldier was going to move. I don’t really know why he hated me so much. We’ve had this thing going on now for several months and it had become part of the routine.
Just as he started to walk away, I gunned it. Flying backward out of the driveway, my squealing tires caught the attention of several guards and refugees camping along the streets. I laughed at their appalled looks and waved as I passed by.
Vee’s house was only two blocks away and we almost always drove together. We’d been friends since middle school and practically inseparable that entire time. Although recently, Vee had been acting weird. We didn’t have many classes together this year, and I’d been so busy with football that we only really saw each other on our ride to school.
I pulled into her driveway and laughed when I saw her burst from the bright red front door. Angry blue eyes glared at me under layers of dark makeup. A ridiculous streak of pink stood out against her black hair and the gothic outfit was something new.
She yanked open the passenger door and threw her bag inside. “You’re late.”
“And you forgot that it’s not Halloween.”
She huffed and climbed in the Jeep. A few seconds later she snapped her head around and raised her eyebrows. “What?”
I chuckled again. “You going to tell me what’s going on here?”
“What are you talking about?”
Reaching over, I lifted the piece of pink hair. “When did you do this?”
She slapped my hand away and crossed her arms. “It’s called fashion, Zach.”
Laughing, I continued. “And what’s with the Beetlejuice eye makeup? You’re scaring me.”
A hint of a smile developed at the corner of her mouth before she snapped her angry fa├žade back into place. “Are we going to sit here all day?”
“Relax, Vee,” I said, putting the Jeep into gear and starting our drive to school.
“Stop calling me that. It’s Vivienne.”

Find out more about Waterfall HERE.
January 14, 2015

Watery Wednesday

In an effort to be better about blogging this year and to share some of my pieces that I absolutely love, I'm introducing WATERY WEDNESDAY'S on my blog. Each Wednesday I'll add a couple of pages (in order) from my award-winning Water Crisis Chronicles. Today we're continuing with Chapter 1 of  WATERFALL.




ONE

Zach (continued)

“Why? The whole point of them turning our community into a refugee compound was so they could control our consumption.” And our behavior.
“Apparently they underestimated the need.” My mom walked over to the sink, which was now covered with a large piece of plywood, reminding us not to use it. “Or they let too many people in.”
“Why anyone thought the idiots in Washington could manage this disaster is beyond me,” I snapped.
“Zachary! Don’t speak ill of the government. They’re doing the best they can.”
“I’m only repeating what dad says.”
“Your father works for the government,” my mom added.
“Exactly! And even he can see how fucked up everything is.”
“Language!” She shook a finger at me, trying to be parental.
“Sorry, mom.” I walked around the counter and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “I have to go. Thanks for the food.”
“You driving today?”
Despite all of the crap going on in the world, I’d still managed to get my license a month ago. And since dad hopped on the government transport each morning and mom stayed home, I was able to borrow the Jeep and steal a few miles of freedom every day. The trip to and from school felt like my little piece of normalcy.
“Yeah. And I’m late. Vee’s not going to be happy.”
“Well, you both have a good day.”
My mom waved as I hustled out of the kitchen and through the front door. Throwing my bag in the back, I noticed my favorite guard staring at me from the end of the driveway. I saluted and said “At ease, soldier.”
He didn’t move.
I hated how our home had turned into a military state. It wasn’t more than a year or two ago that I remembered living a relatively simple life. Even though other countries were killing each other over the state of the environment, the United States had managed to stay somewhat civil. When several states out west were deemed uninhabitable, cities along the east coast made room for the displaced. The government built desalinization plants and designated compounds where clean drinking water would be delivered on a regular basis.
Our particular gated community outside of Philadelphia had become one of the refuge sites. Now we had armed guardsmen protecting our gates as the threats of national and international terrorism continued to grow. I’d heard that several of the upstream water sources had been hijacked by militia and the like. Most of the water had already been poisoned by industry years ago, but the few good sources left were now being targeted. I wondered if that’s why our rations had been reduced.

Find out more about Waterfall HERE.
January 13, 2015

Teaser Tuesday

Here is another sneak peek at THE SECOND RISING!



Book: The Second Rising
Genre: NA Urban Fantasy
Publication Date: TBD

“I have a request for you, Mystical Marianna!” Peter interrupted my performance, and when I looked over at him, my heart sank. “I need you to bring this kitten back to life.”
The silence in the room felt like it pierced my soul and then shattered it into a thousand pieces. Shards of anger, despair, and sadness ripped through me in the split second I realized what was happening.
“Dude, what happened? Did you kill that kitten?” someone asked quietly.
“Not cool, man.” Cord has stepped closer to Peter, shaking his head in disgust. “Please tell me you didn’t do that?”
“Relax, I found it. And it’s all going to be okay because Marianna here is a Necromancer,” Peter replied with a twisted smirk.
All eyes turned their attention to me. Some were filled with fear, and some were swimming in excitement. Whether it was the alcohol or the need to impress, all of the boys immediately jumped on the bandwagon.
“You have to save it!”
“Can you really bring things back from the dead?”
Ignoring their questions, I glared at Peter. And if looks could kill, he would have been dead ten times over. How dare he put me in this position? Especially after I’d already explained myself outside. And did he kill that kitten? The knot in my stomach and the look on his face made me suspicious.
Setting the still-soft body gently on the large dining room table, I watched as the white fur-covered head hung at an odd angle before resting on the wood. Bile rose in my throat and I thought about stabbing Peter for a brief moment, just like Brit said I could do to anyone who bothered me. Actually, I thought about stabbing Peter several times, but Cord’s voice broke my vengeful thoughts.
“Can you save it?”
“No,” I spat, eyes still focused on Peter.
“But I thought you could bring things back to life?”
“I can.”
“So, what’s the problem?” Cord’s words were sharp, but his tone was purely inquisitive. He didn’t know that the moment that kitten got ten feet away from me, it would fall over dead again. Permanently. Forever.
He also didn’t understand how using this kind of magic would impact my life.