Ideas: Dragon

Dragon

The thunderous feet echoed as the mighty beast stopped before her. The long, billowing body gleamed like gold though the sun was hidden behind the clouds. A warm vapor falling from its powerful lungs soaked her in delicious breath.

Carolyn raced up to meet it, throwing her arms around the beautiful face--the face carved with scars of the past, riddled with wounds from ancient wars, fearsome with unmatchable rows of teeth, but beautiful nonetheless.

The rush of its fur on her skin tingled her nose. She laughed aloud her excitement as it laid down its head and back; instantly she scrambled onto hits fluffy neck, holding tight as it sat up again.

With a glorious roar, the golden beast leapt from the ground and exploded into the air with a clap of its glimmering wings.

Expeditiously Dandified: "B."

Here's an excerpt from my novel about the joys in life, Expeditiously Dandified.

"B."

Buckets' worth of clothes, toys, gadgets, and old cooking utensils came flying at Emilia with remarkable strength. Señora S.'s garbled voice could be heard cursing and muttering amidst the flying color: "Dash it all, where did they go? I know I put them somewhere in this blasted closet!"

Emilia waited patiently as she gaped at this growing heap of old relics. Picking up a particularly rusty knife, she grimaced. This probably was made before--I don't even know. It looks ancient! A smirk crossed her lips. Ah, we love Señora S., though...wise and elderly as she is.

"I found it!" came the scream from the other side of the junk dune. "An old pair of my most wonderful pants! Ah ha!" Señora S. held out the most hideous orange, flower-spotted, stain-ridden pair of unraveling shorts Emilia had ever seen.

"They look terrible," she laughed, "but they're dandified! Can I try them on?"

Almonds & Mints: Chapter 1

To my inspiration, Elizabeth Klingbeil, who started all this. I love you even if you burn down my house.

Chapter 1:

It all started with two very good friends and a handful of snacks.

June the Sixteenth in the year Two Thousand.

The warm, summer wind whistling through the extending branches of their favorite tree, Mya and Keilah climbed branch by branch up its rough trunk.

"What a lovely day!" declared Mya, pulling herself onto a sturdy limb.

Keilah struggled onto an adjacent branch beside her before spouting, "Isn't it a little odd for a couple of seventeen-year-olds to still be playing on trees?"

Mya laughed at the silly question as she untangled her long, blonde hair from the poking twigs. "When have you ever minded doing something socially bizarre?"

Her brunette friend only rolled her eyes at that.

"It is rather amazing that we are still friends, though," the blonde thought aloud. "I do believe a decade has flown past between us."

At this Keilah's ears pricked up. "Thirteen years, actually. And you're still as innocent as you always were, Mya."

With a squeal Mya exclaimed, "You're right! Thirteen years!" She tried to hug her friend but realized in time that they were still, in fact, in a tree very high up. Before she let her friend sigh and scold her, she nodded, "Yes, I suppose I still am! But isn't that cute? Hugging in a tree? It's the power of friendship!"

Keilah's eye twitched.

"And you are still as immature as you once were, Keilah!"

The brunette balked at this. "Wot wot? I am not!"

"You are! You still haven't learned to withhold your awful cooking ideas!" Mya giggled.

"That's not--"

She interrupted the terrible chef to blurt, "Don't you recall yesterday's incident? I've never seen my mother so flabbergasted in my life!"

Keilah gasped, "It wasn't my fault! If I hadn't been distracted by your stupid brothers--"

"They were trying to put out the flames!"

The Almond Tree

This is only the beginning...

Great, billowy eaves of branches dangled over the whispering grass as cheery birds hummed sweet tunes to their work.

A cool breeze sprang upon that open expanse and over the waving green leaves high overhead.

The sweet smell of almond flowers drifted about the strong tree's trunk.

Fresh, ripe almonds crunched in the mouth with a salty-sweet bite.

The whole air of the place lifted the spirit and refreshed the soul, as if the Maker Himself had come to rest here beside the tree and fill the expanse with peace.

And so many had come here for a rest--a splendid nap beneath the swaying leaves.

So many memories were held here. So many lives had been changed here. And so many more still would.

Sliced Guiles: Chapter 1: Dusting Old Memories

In November of 2009, I wrote a novel I titled Sliced Guiles. Allow me to introduce to you its opening scene.

Chapter 1:
Dusting Old Memories

A chill gust of air shivered through the doorway; little but the pale sound of the wind sweeping the dust about the room echoed in her ears. Her tightly-pinned white hair fell out of place as she jerked her head around the room, scanning the last remains of this house. All that was left was the bookshelf and every memory engraved in its holdings. She gathered up her shawl and slowly stepped over to it, running her frail fingers over the edges of every dusty book it presented.

Her wavering hands selected the first journal on the top shelf and drew it out. It was a small, mahogany book with gold, fluid letters on the front: Young Journals. She slid open the book and smiled at the misshapen handwriting etched so many decades ago...