Questions Arise

So, yes, I've had some questions, I'm going to address them in this post. Hopefully....

Dear Shannon,

 I've read your comments. Thanks I'm glad you love my stuff! My novel isn't online, nor will it be because I'm not planning on putting that here. It's all hand written though. I will however put all, well, most of my stuff here. Some of it is too dark for even me. It's a horrid memory I wish not to revisit. I'm glad to hear that Erin talks about me. I hope to keep you coming back for more, and hopefully spark your juices again.

Dear Cynthia,

Why don't I write about my life? Well, I hardly have anything that doesn't seem trivial to talk about. I suppose I could bore you to death with my talk of who won the superbowl, PACKERS BY THE WAY, or what I did in school, but to me, reality isnt' fun. I like to live in a world where I make my own uh.... well so much for being a writer if I can't even find a word for that. Oh well.

Dear Anonymous(es),

I wish I knew who you were. Signing with a nickname doesn't help me. Telling me you think we've had a conversation similar to that of my characters doesn't help me..... Please, tell me who you are. Thanks that would be great. Love you.

Dear David Bowie,

I watched Band Slam and I couldn't help but to write that.

Dear Erin,

I love you, and all your work. Keep it up.

If any of you have any further questions that you should like answered, please comment below. Now, as Cynthia pointed out, I don't write much about my life. It's usually a blurb and then a story. I wish to continue this trend.......... Now.


This was another one of those Images assignments we did in creative writing. It's again about Branded, enjoy. It's kinda short...... ish. I mean I'm not sure what you guys consider short, but this is what I do. anyway, moving on. enjoy.

Trapped.

They had been trapped in the dark labyrinth of subway tunnels under the city for hours. The outside gates had all been locked and bolted, and their shouts stopped dead at the tunnel’s end. It had been a trap. Killswitch warned them not to go, but Jaycee had promised information about Zendla. She had the information when Larkin had met her in the café three hours before, and Larkin trusted her. She had followed Larkin’s instructions to the point. Come alone. Wear a red button up shirt. Wear a ball cap on her head. Wear her bag on her right side, and keep her left hand in her pocket. Jaycee had done all these things, and Larkin had seen the information, but their meeting fell to pieces when the local police barged through the doors. Someone had recognized Larkin and called the police. Jaycee shouted out a meeting place in the tunnels, and Larkin sent Sam before them to search it out. With no word from Sam, she and Alexander entered the subway tunnel, hoping to find him within, but when she and Alexander arrived, the lights died and the screeching started. No one heard them scream.

Larkin’s breathing was heavy and uneven, her heartbeat even more so. The tunnels were black as pitch and cold as death as they raced through the passageways. She couldn’t hear Alexander’s footsteps behind her; the horrid screeching sounds that echoed through the tunnel blocked out all sound. The screeching bit into her mind, making it impossible for her to think clearly, which she needed so desperately to do if she wanted to escape with her life. Too many people could be lurking in these dark corridors waiting to kill them—to silence them. Larkin and her friends had become part of something so incredibly dangerous they had become the target for both sides.

Blindly she reached behind her, hoping to find Alexander behind her. Feeling the soft material of Alexander’s cotton shirt and his warm body beneath it made her smile. A drop of relief touched her heart knowing he was still with her. They slowed their pace, inching carefully through the darkness, letting their hands guide them along the walls. The screeching grew louder like the grinding wheels of a monstrous train lurching to a stop on the tracks. With a scream Larkin threw her hands over her ears, clamping her palms against the side of her head, a tear running down her cheek.

"Make it stop!" she wailed, pressing her hands harder against her temples. "Please!!"

And suddenly, with one final low hum the noises stopped, leaving the tunnels void of sounds.

Alexander put a hand on Larkin’s shoulder. "Larkin, it stopped." He whispered, "It’s over."

"No…" hissed a sinister voice over the scratchy PA, the ominous word reverberating on the walls around them. "It’s only just begun."

Larkin took a step forward, stopping when she heard a splash beneath her foot. The lights flashed on, blinding her and Alexander, blazing through the tunnels. Blinking to adjust Larkin looked at her foot and screamed, stumbling backward into Alexander’s arms.

Lying on the ground before her were the bodies of Jaycee and Sam thrown together in a pool of their blood.