Sunday, August 30, 2015

8 Sentence Sunday

My post to 8-sentence-sunday-on-dieselpunks.

This is from my H.A.G (Hermetic Aphrodite Guild) story. It's an exchange between the "villains."

"He’s going on a date with a H.A.G," said Ruby, slamming down a hefty textbook.

"Does it really matter? He can do what he wants. The Order of Typesetters has never dictated whom one can date," said Flint.

"But H.A.G’s are just entirely too much about nature. They never get degrees. What can he see in someone who is uneducated."

"I’ve heard that a woman goes through an education process similar to universities in order to become a Traveling H.A.G. And, the guild has strict code in order to call oneself a H.A.G."

“Are you defending her?"

Thursday, August 27, 2015

terribleminds flash fiction challenge - Time to Create a Character

Nanna - a lovable goddess who is a champion of women


When I write Flash Fiction, I find names for the characters to give them meaning without having to create a great amount of background for the character. One of my favorite sources for character names is Norse Mythology. I wrote the 100 word flash fiction below for a terribleminds challenge(name of drink) using this method.


“Nanna?” asks Yggdrasil. A flash of orange, black, and steam zoom past her.
The blur stops. Nanna turns and peddles to Yggdrasil.
“It’s the latest bike. A small steam motor aides your own peddling. It’s fast.”
“Orange and black are a bit garish for you, Nanna.”
“The color clashes with my red riding gear, but the Screaming Viking’s only color is orange.”
“I’m wearing orange. I want a go on it.”
“Sharing and peddling produces joy. I regret; I must say no.”
Yggdrasil screams, “That wasn’t my fault.”
She kicks the dirt remembering the thrill of peddling Nanna’s last bicycle.


This weeks challenge is to create a character. I decided to expand on Nanna.

Nanna is a lovable goddess who is generous with her gifts as well as with her material possessions. All the other gods and goddess find her delightful and she is included in everything. The Norse Mythology about Nanna is she dies of grief when her husband is kill. The Nanna character in the above bit of fiction hasn’t had any tragedy befall her in her short goddess life of 120 years. Her set of rooms are always a mess. The ladies that attend her have a hard time keeping anything in order because when Nanna dresses, three or four times a day, she is a whirlwind of indecision. When she is in her rooms, she flits from one task to another. Beyond her lovability and flightiness, she is quite serious about the needs of others especially human women. Between the parties and goddess fun, she helps women overcome the suppression of overbearing men and unequal governing rules. More than one woman can thank her for her position of power.



I'm sure there are a lot of other characters being created for this challenge. Go here terribleminds to read more created characters or to join in the fun.

Tuesday, August 25, 2015

Terribleminds flash fiction challenge

This week's challenge was a mash up. My randomly picked assignment was to write Buffy the Vampire Slayer meets LA Confidential. It you want to read others from different writers go here-
http://terribleminds.com/ramble/2015/08/07/flash-fiction-another-x-meets-y-pop-culture-challenge/




I lean back and check to make sure the right seam on my robin egg blue silk stockings was straight. Perfect. The blue line from the heal on the back of my t-strap dancing shoe marked the start of the seam to where it disappeared under the midnight blue scalloped evening flapper dress. I turn to check the other seam and glimpse the man I had feed on. The man who had been turned by my enemy as little as two months ago.

When I sunk my vampire incisors into the pulsing vein, I tasted his masculinity, his virility. I almost stopped the death exsanguination because of the desire which welled up in me to mate with him. Mannonck had chosen him well. He must have known this man and barely vampire, would arouse the final state I would need to turn into the most powerful level of vampire, even more powerful than Mannonck. I resisted the draw to power and sucked the life out of him.

Turning to stared at the dead man,I wondering why my enemy would want me to become more powerful than him. Then, I realized. How could I be so stupid? He had changed his tactics from trying to kill me to courting me to his tribe. Mannonck, after trying for years and failing to get Dahey to join forces with him, decided a mated female vampire might be able to conquer the 400 year old, twenty-three member strong vampire clan of Dahey Tundar.

Opening the alley door that led to Club Zoe, I returned to the group of acquaintances whom I meet in the lobby of the Hotel du Noir. I needed to blend and this group of young flappers were the perfect disguise for a vampire spy working for MII and who was being tailed by the man who now laid in the alley.

"Marta, where have you been. You missed my favorite song. Dance with me," said Emma, the lovely brunette girl who was engaged to the leader of the little group. She grabbed my hand and drug me to the dance floor. The 1920's open affection for either sex was new for this vampire who was turned fourteen years before Queen Victoria was crowned. My turning happened on my birthday, August 23,1823. I was an orphan on the streets of London after being kicked out of the St. Mark's, nunnery and school for wayward girls.

The music turned from a lively tune to slow jazz which spoke to the sadness within me. Emma pulled me close and we swayed to the rhythm. I closed my eyes and my mind flashed to the one time I meet Monnonck eighty-six years ago.

***

The place to be eighty-six years ago was Amsterdam, at least it was for fun loving Vampires and creatures. I was a past the frenzied stage of constant hunger and the need to try to be semi-human. I'd recently discovered the excitement of undercover spy work.

A ball was being given in honor of the Prince of Norway's visit. My escort and fellow spy and vampire of 120 years was Earl Louis of Monaco. As a couple, we did not blend into the crowd with our six foot height, red hair, hazel eyes, and glowy white complexions. We were a matched set and many thought we were twins, though he was more the father figure to me. He taught me how to survive as a vampire and introduced me to the spy world. However, that's a story for another time.

We were announced:

"Presenting Lady Bjorne and Earl Lois."

All eyes were watching us as we descended the staircase. We look straight ahead while our vampiric senses took in perfume, fast and slow heartbeats, fear and indifference. I sensed at least three other creatures whose heartbeats were too fast to be a humans and the flowing blood without a heartbeat of five to ten vampires. This was not unusual for a ball full of royalty and high class merchants.

Once in the room, we parted and sought out our targets to gather information about a plot to overthrow Queen Victoria's new reign. I greeted a group of girls, but in the middle of introductions, their attentions turned to the next ball entrant. One girl's heart beat quickened and I followed her gaze to a group of men in kilts. When I zeroed in on the leader's blood rhythm, I could tell he was an old vampire. The flow of his blood was the slowest I had ever heard.

"Presenting clan chief, Dahey Tundar and the Tundar Clan."

The clan numbered nine males and two females vampires. I scanned the crowed for Louis, because I wanted to see his reaction to the new guests. My eyes were drawn to figure who was staring directly at me. The blood in my veins quickened at the sight of him. His lithesome height was full of power and his black eyes bore into me. I stood transfixed as he walked towards me.

Another announcement was made.

"Guests please proceed to the dining hall."

The girls around me broke into questions and exclamations; "Dinner now?", "This is unusual!", "How odd?", "Has the prince arrived?", "Dinner always is after hours of dancing!"
They continued in this manner as they proceeded towards the dinning hall.

All of the human beating hearts were leaving the room. The creatures and vampires remained. The black eyed vampire now stood a foot in front of me. I could see that the vampire before me was a native from North America. The high cheekbones and prominent hooked nose made me feel as if he had walked out of a Catlin painting of an Indian chief.

The doors to the dining hall closed. Louis appeared at my side and whispered in my ear, "You are staring at Monnonck ."

At this moment, Monnonck grabbed my arm and yanked me to him, "You are nothing, little rabbit." He let go and strood toward chief Tundar. Standing only inches from the clan chief, he bellowed into Dahey's face, "This is not your territory. You will leave at once,".

Louis grabbed me from around the waist. "We must leave at once. There is no plot to overthrow Queen Victoria here, tonight. I was mistaken in bringing you here." We left threw a side door.

When we reached the street, I begged Louis for an explanation as to what Monnonck meant and why I felt drawn to him. He never explained and convinced me that I should never join either Mannanock or Dahey Thundar.

I have been on the run ever since, working cases when I could. Sadly, Montreal would not be a resting place for a few years, but a place to pass through. With the dead body in the alley, I'll be moving on to either Vancouver or perhaps San Francisco.


Note: I'm on vacation and only have my iPad. Please forgive the quality and know that this has not had an line editor.

Sunday, August 23, 2015

8 Sentences Randomly Picked



I picked a random eight from a story waiting to be edited for today's 8 Sentence Sundays on Dieselpunks. Here is a link to the group - www.dieselpunks.org

"May I help you," said a young man who was obviously a student at the university.
"Yes, please make a ham, cranberry sandwich on rye bread. Please be light on the blue cheese dressing. On the side, place a pickle and cabbage salad."
The clerk looked up from writing the order and smiled at Heather. He had never heard someone order a sandwich in a such precise and polite manner. "If it pleases the lady, I will bring your meal to a table of your choice." He tried to equal her politeness level.

Sunday, August 16, 2015

Metric Century, almost. 8 sentence Dieselpunk

 I only passed two people all day on the ride; I wished my borrowed bike was speedier. Though for style, the classic Italian Bianci was a head turner.

Olive shouted, “This bike is a wonder!” She pedaled faster and passed the boys.

“Look at Ernest’s contraption,” said Evelyn as they left the Old Faithful area.

Ranger Dashing had retrieved his motored bicycle and made a quick pass by the group to show off his homemade wilderness traveling motorbike.

“That is marvelous and so is Ernest.” Susan teased and pedaled past Evelyn.

“I’m not going to eat dust back here,” Olive said while passing Susan. They played a leapfrog game of being leader until the trail became too narrow

Sunday, August 9, 2015

8 Sentence Sunday

I have a moment on the family vacation to add a 8 sentence Dieselpunk snippet. 


Dear Mother and Father,

The weather has been lovely. The evenings are cool and there hasn’t been a cloud threatening our daytime activities with rain. You’ld be interested to know that my daytime has been occupied with science. The College of Nikola and Ada has a Scientific Society and are studying the Old Faithful area of Yellowstone. I was asked to join and Uncle Teddy agreed, thinking studying with students would be more interesting than listening to the Yellowstone Board’s meetings.


You would be happy to know my sketching skills are of great use to the group of students I’m helping. In fact, Professor Hayden invited me to join the Naturalist Department and said my observations skills would be a great asset to the program. It is all very exciting.


Monday, August 3, 2015

8 Sentence Sunday on Dieselpunks


Here is my 8 sentences. If you would like to read others or participate next sunday, please use link.

There is too much to tell in the brief time I have to write, and I’m looking forward to our first visit when I get back. Though, I do not want to think about the end of this adventure. I’ll end this letter with this tidbit. The Ranger, who rescued me, Earnest Dashing, has taken me on a stroll each evening. He knows everything about nature, likes to tinker with steam inventions, and has the warmest brown eyes.

Your loving friend,

Evelyn

P.S. Please keep all of this a secret. Especially, the fact about not having an escort.