The Moon Child: Excerpt from The Wolfe Saga book 2



I knew I was dreaming. I knew in the way I know when a storm is brewing. It’s a feeling; a sense dwelling deep within one’s being. As a hunter, I’d gotten very good at listening to it. Listening either kept my ass out of hot water, or won me a hefty meal. Either way, I knew when to pay attention. This time, was no different.

The trees that loomed over me were off. Their trunks blurry and opaque no matter how close I got. The ground beneath my feet was spongy, making my feet trail behind as if I walked through waist high water. Even the sun rays that cut through the canopy were wrong. The color was muted though the sun was high. Not a cloud in the sky to lessen its beauty. Yet muted it was. Everything around me was distorted in some way, as if I had somehow slipped into one of the paintings I had seen in the village.

It made the feeling roar in the back of my head. Shouldn’t be here, it cried. As if I had asked to dream this.

Time seemed to slow, and I felt like I had walked forever without really getting anywhere. The sun never fell and its palpable heat hung in the air. I was coated in sweat before too long. I had almost gone mad when I suddenly heard running water. Running water, and a woman’s sultry tones.

Where dips the rocky highland

Of Sleuth Wood in the lake,

There lies a leafy island

Where flapping herons wake

Come away, O human Child

To the waters and the wild

With a faery, hand in hand,

For the world’s more full of weeping, than you can understand

I felt myself shiver as a soft wind billowed through the stagnant woods. It was as if her voice itself brought life to all that stood around me; perhaps even myself. Her voice had a quality to it like silk charged with static. Smooth and inviting as it caressed the inside of my head, yet it gave off an exciting snap when I examined it closer.

I felt lighter as her voice filled me, the lead confines that held me falling away with every step. There was a certain melancholy laced throughout the woman’s voice, and though the water grew louder as I drew closer, her voice did not. I slowed as I realized the sky had suddenly darkened, and the once pale yellow rays of light turned to streaks of twinkling pearl. I looked towards the sky, drawing a breath as the canopy suddenly disappeared to show a full moon.

So lost was I in it’s gleaming halo, that I hardly noticed the forest around me seemingly disappearing entirely. The land silvered under the moon’s loving gaze, and what details were lost in the sun, burst to life under the moon. The trees glowed and the ground glittered. Even the air smelled sweet and crisp. The world was born anew under a bejeweled sky.

Where the wave of moonlight glosses

The dim gray sands with light,

Far off by furthest rosses

We foot it all the night,

Weaving olden dances

Mingling hands and mingling glances

Till the moon has taken flight

Come away, O human child!

To the waters and the wild

With a faery, hand in hand,

For the world’s more full of weeping than you can understand

I shivered. The wind licked at the sheen of sweat on my skin, and the sound of rushing water only grew as I moved soundlessly forward. Her voice was a beacon, and I the lost ship. I even felt like I rocked on the high seas with the way my body swayed to her. Finally, after what seemed like eternity, I stepped out of the woods. The brush parted without my interference, and I was greeted by what could only have been heaven.

A lake that stretched for miles was laid out before me, and the shiny gray river stones that made up its shores only made the onyx surface darker. The forest at its borders loomed with monstrous pines. It was all I could do not to gape, but when I looked down to the lake’s surface…I lost all composure. There in the center of the lake’s body, stood a woman. She stood in the very spot the full moon’s reflection should have been, but it was only her. She was the most beautiful creature I had ever beheld.

Her skin was almost ethereal under the moon’s gaze. A rich red oak color so lush, you’d think she had just been carved from the tree’s trunk. The shadows that blanketed her body made it seem as if she wore the night itself. They accentuated her curves in the most enticing way, and I could feel my body stir with need.

My skin flushed and I turned in shame, though I couldn’t keep from looking back for long. She had her back to me, her wild and wavy mane kissing the middle of her back. The crown of her head resembled barren grove wood made dormant from the cold, and it faded beautifully into a white like freshly fallen snow. The woods in deep winter was what graced her head.

Suddenly the wind gusted, and it was all I could do to keep from losing my footing. I threw my hands to shield myself from the blast, closing my eyes as my senses drowned in the smell of pine. I peered through my lashes. I blinked back at the brightness at first, thinking I had gone blind.

Before me stood a pillar of starlight, bright and intense. Staggeringly beautiful in the way the light’s border held hues of blues, greens, purples, and pinks. My entire being began to vibrate with an intense need to fill myself with it. To drink it in until I was whole. As if I was not my true self until I welcomed it into me, body and soul. I felt my mouth go dry.

As the light drew closer it started to take a form. Then, when it was a mere ten feet from me, the light finally faded away to reveal the woman from the lake. The shadows were gone from her form, giving me a breath taking sight at her naked form. Powerful toned legs connected to sleek thighs and wide hips, a taut belly with pert breasts and pale rose nipples.


A Dream?: Excerpt from The Wolfe Saga

The grass beneath my bare feet was cold and slick. The foliage around me dense and dark. I always knew when I was in a dream, I could just tell. Lucid dreams were not an oddity for me, but this dream was different. Nothing was happening. No weird things to get up to, no interesting people to meet.

No, this dream was anything but fun. It was dark, and foreboding. The woods I found myself in watched with silent anticipation, but for what I could not tell. My naked skin was licked and teased by the icy wind that blew through the trees. Something stalked me, but for now it lay hidden in the darkness of the woods.

I wasn’t exactly afraid, what I felt was more like excitement. I was anticipating something. A twig snapped, and I turned and bolted. The grass quickly turned to cold earth, hard and frozen. Small branches whipped and scratched at my flesh, marring my body with red. Something was behind me, quickly gaining.

My heart thumped hard against my chest, and my breathing grew harsh and ragged. I was to be something’s prey, but this creature was unknown to me. It was shrouded in darkness every time I looked back. Darkness, except for it’s piercing eyes. Two fiercely glowing orbs fixed on me, the prize. I focused on my escape, trying to keep the vision of its burning eyes from my mind.

A light came through suddenly, and I ran towards it. I didn’t bother to think of what the light might be, so long as it got me away from my hunter. I ran as hard I could, the muscles in my legs burning fiercely. I heard a sound come from behind me that sent shivers down my spine. With tears in my eyes I gave it all I had and broke through the woods to face the light. Blinded, was I, then nothing.

The Night We Met: Loki Chapter Excerpt

In that moment…seeing the light die from your eyes..I was taken back to the night we met.

It was raining then, no chance of escape without water sinking into your very bones. You looked then as you do now, broken.

I wanted to reach out and touch you, tell you it’d all be ok. Yet I knew if I did…it’d be a lie. A horrible putrid lie, that would make your shattered being disintegrate further into the abyss.

The only difference between then and now was my burning throat, choked words, and raging soul. I had failed at the one thing I promised you Princess…I had failed to protect you. I let the nightmares you had fought so hard to bury swallow you whole in one swift gulp.

I sat there, watching the tears trail slowly down your face. The silence a roaring beast that sat between us. Rage and pain were now your bitter companions…and I had been profoundly left behind.

How do you save someone from their own darkness..? How do I bring back what once was you….What the hell was I supposed to do…?

Tell me, Princess…tell me how to light your way in the tunnel you now stood in. The night we met…I did not know you. I yelled and shook you loose from the dark tendrils, but now…now I couldn’t so much as breathe..

Why was it so easy then..on the night we met? When the night was filled with betrayal, your eyes filled with tears…why was it so easy when you meant nothing then, and so hard when you mean everything now…

I wish I could go back to the night we met..if it meant I could bring you back too..

Insert Catchy Title Here

“Oh God please tell me it’s not the-”


“I thought you had become roadkill…”

Lots of moments where that might have been preferable but haha-HA! I have conquered!!! Relatively speaking lol

MWAHAHAHAHA! And I still have a potty mouth teehee.

Anywho!! I know I have said it before, but I will say it again for the stubborn bitch in the back (I mean me) I am going to do my very damned best to keep up with this blog! I have truly missed it to be honest. There’s something extremely soothing about putting down my thoughts,fears, blurbs, and irritations. It’s not so much about getting it off my chest (though that is a big part), but it’s also about the fact as a writer it’s nice to be able to sit and write about me sometimes lol. I love my characters, but they’re so much like my children, and sometimes I need some me time.

So! Veeeeery long story short, I am the new service manager in my place of business and am keeping my location in the top ten for numbers and turn around times desalinate being the only person in there lol. It’s been really hard, but pretty awesome when I hear how great I’m making us look. I recently did my first ever future reading which was fun. I went the Runes route which I find a little more…idk credible? As someone who has done a lot of research on runes and the different forms of readings, I like how the runes are very straightforward. They have their set meanings and its very hard to fib or tell people fluff that they want to hear.

Anyways it was very fun and an overall enjoyable experience. The woman who was reading my runes was a beautiful soul who served in the Air Force, had a son in the marines, and enjoyed tossing jokes and trading insults with my marine hubby haha. The reading was interesting and revealing in many ways, and even helped set my mind at ease in some ways and ignited the fire in others. I now have a little better grasp on what I need to do, and where my path will lead. I know most people would call it all malarkey and hog wash, but if it helps a person move forward into better things why does it matter, you know?

I have been working on ONE, read it again ONE, manuscript lol and it is going great. I have a plan now, and I feel much more confident in how I want to proceed and conquer my dream of being a published author. I want more than anything to hold in my hands the worlds and stories that just appeared in my head one day, and I mean to make it happen.

Finally, but in no way less important, the blog. I appreciate the people who have followed and leave likes on all or most of my posts. It honestly means a lot to me. I promise to write here more, especially when it comes to keeping my sanity and documenting my writing journey. I am going to do everything I can to keep myself up and motivated. In the words of my favorite writer Neil Gaiman, “This is how you do it: you sit down at the keyboard and you put one word after another until its done. It’s that easy, and that hard.”

So wish me luck Gophs, and pray the blank page doesn’t win too much anymore. 😀

Delín Délone: The sound of ghostly chains

Now if you’ve ever hung out with a Mexican, you know we like our ghost stories. Of course there’s La Llorona, El Cucuy, El Chupacabra…

Ok, maybe El Chupacabra was more the story you snickered at as Abuela regaled it, BUT one can not deny it’s a classic. Even if it’s one of the corniest stories ever.

Ghost stories have, and always will be, the best way to make your children, or grandchildren in the case of my Abuela, behave. I mean, why spank when you can just give the kid mental scars and an unhealthy obsession with things that go bump in the night huh?

I kid, I kid…or DO I?

Anyway, this story is a story from my Abuelita. Sadly, she is no longer with us, but I know she would adore the fact that a story from her childhood made some outsiders shiver with unease. Why? Because my Abuelita had a sick sense of humor and loved putting the fear of God in people. LITERALLY the number one reason she was, and always will be, my role model. So I hope you enjoy it. This story is one hundred percent factual. It had happened to a little boy that lived in her hometown of Juarez; directly from the mouth of an investigating officer. The cartel is apparently not the only thing to fear in Juarez….

Long ago, when my Abuelita was about seven, there lived a boy in Juarez. She had seen him around the town from time to time, but never really hung out with him. He kept more to himself she told me. He was about to have his tenth birthday in just a few short days. Because his parents had to work on his actual birthday, they decided to celebrate early. His Mamá had given him just enough money to go to the store for a gallon of milk, a cow’s liver, and some spices for his special birthday dinner.

As he made his way to the market, he passed by an old cemetery. Apparently he had stopped to watch some tired workers lower a casket into the ground, but stopped for break before filling it with dirt. Not much to do in Juarez, so I guess kids had to get their kicks somehow. He eventually got bored and moved on, kicking rocks as he made his way to market. When he got there, he floated from stall to stall; mesmerized by all the fun bobbles and trinkets. What really nabbed his attention though, was the stall filled with sweets.

Churros, Pan Dulce, De La Rosa, Vero Mango, etc. The stall was so full of sweets, he couldn’t help to buy as much as he could. When he had finally come to his senses, he only had enough money for the milk and spices. Suddenly those sweets, were now bitter in his mouth.

He cried as he began his return home, the sky now dark from his dawdling. He had ruined his birthday dinner, and his parents would surely be furious with how he wasted their money. He was at a loss for what to do next. When he couldn’t take another step towards home, he looked up to see he had stopped in front of the cemetery once more.

Now, I’m sure your wondering how my grandmother could’ve known this next bit of information, and I asked her the very same question. When I didn’t get the chancla in response to my interrupting, she always told me that the investigator had made some mention of a grave being violated. That’s right, the little boy in his worry went into the cemetery when no one was around, climbed down into the fresh grave, took out his trusty pocket knife, and took from the dead man…HIS LIVER!

This was the part I always grimaced at. I mean, why the HELL would that be your first idea to do after wasting your parents money?! WHY does that trade make ANY sense?! Sad part? When I was little it always seemed gross, but I did understand why he would think to do it. A liver is a liver, right?

So the little boy placed the liver in his little bag, and hurried back to his house. When he got there he of course was scolded by his parents, severely. Almost to the point where they were going to cancel the special dinner, which I’m sure the boy wouldn’t have minded. His parents however had spent a great deal to make tonight special, and they knew there would be no getting any of their money back, so after their son apologized and hugged them twice he was forgiven. His mother asked for the groceries, and quickly set to work preparing dinner.

As he helped his mother in the kitchen, the boy heard something (later corroborated by three of their neighbors who all heard the same thing, though the parents claimed never to hear a thing); faint though it was. It almost sounded like…chains. Chains that were being dragged behind something.

“Delíín déloooone…you have stolen my liver…Delííín déloooone…I’m coming for the liver…”

My abuelita told me that most of the neighbors thought it was a prank, but others believed it to be something evil and ignored it. Rightfully so I imagine.

The boy must have thought it was a prank like most of the neighbors, because he never said anything about the voice to his parents. He sat silently in the kitchen once his part of the cooking was done. He watched as his mother prepared the stolen liver, never saying a word about the atrocity he had committed. He watched silently as his parents stay down to eat, salivating over the delectable liver he had brought back for them. It had been so good in fact, that they didn’t even mind when he said he didn’t want any. More for them, they said.

After his parents had polished off what was left of the liver, his parents claimed they felt a sort of sluggishness flow through their bodies. They quickly became groggy, kissed their son good night, and disappeared to their room to sleep. Now the rest is purely conjecture, as no one was around to truly see what happened….but considering what happened to that little boy…I’m willing to believe anything.

The little boy watched as his parents disappeared into their bedroom. He looked around the kitchen, and set to work cleaning up. As he cleaned the world outside seemed to grow completely silent, and once more he heard it. This time, it was much closer. Just down the road, from what the neighbor said.

“Delííín déloooone…you have EATEN my liver…..delíín délooone..I am coming for the liver…”

How terrified the boy must have been, my abuela would say. He had just watched his parents eat the dead man’s liver, and now he was hearing a voice. It couldn’t have been the dead man…no one had seen him. At least, he thought no one had seen him. He shivered at the thought, but tried to push it from his mind when thing grew quiet once more. He was almost done with the dishes, when he heard the dead man call. This time, it was accompanied by foot steps…

“Delííín déloooone….I can hear your heart beating…delíín délooone….I am coming for the liver..”

The boy was rightly terrified now, his little heart beating so loud his chest hurt. I switched off the lights and ran to his bedroom, barring the door with his dresser. As he stood in his room, the world around him went dead. The crickets no longer chirped, the wind no longer blew, his blood no longer rang in his ears. The world had never been more terrifying than in this moment. Then, the dead man roared.


The boy ran and snatched his blanket from his bed, cowering under the covers in his closet. He held his hand to his mouth to hide his breathing, and watched in horror as the dresser moved away from his bedroom door on it’s own accord. His eyes went wide as he watched in stunned horror, as SOMETHING came into his room. From the eye witness account of one of his neighbors, they said a liquid black shape that resembled a man entered the boy’s room with almost cat like grace. As if whatever the entity was, was TOYING with his pray. The neighbor had been so terrified by what he’d seen through the window, that head had called the police after running to his room…but the police had been too late…. the time the police had arrived at the boy’s house, his mother lay screaming in horror in the house’s hallway. Cradling her was the father, who seeds as if he might vomit from what he had seen. My abuela said that everyone who had dared entering the boy’s room, came out looking as if they would never know light again. The boy, she told me, had been horribly disemboweled. He was found on the floor of his closet, his torso ripped open. His room was bathed in his blood and his organs were laid out beside him in a neat little row. His face twisted into the most horrible and disheartening look of terror. The only thing taken…was his liver. Continue reading “Delín Délone: The sound of ghostly chains”


Just so that everyone is current on the facts…you remember that manuscript I’ve decided to start all over?

Yeeeaah…it’s not 8,000 words…it’s actually 14,476 words…

Soooo…I’m going to take this one on the chin, and cry silently as I hit the little Plus symbol in the pages app..


At least that means that it’ll get back to that number or higher that much quicker than the first go around lol.

Still, looking at that count makes hitting that “start over” button that much more daunting…but not so much that it overshadows the positives. 🙂

The Gopher is Still Here

Yes, you read that right. Tis I, your friendly mentally unstable rodent! 😀

“Oh no no-”

Shhhhh! You’ll ruin my moment…

Anywho! Like most who know my dream to be an author, I have a job that actually pays the bills (Hahahahahaha not really, thank you minimum wage in America).

I am an Apple authorized technician, and unfortunately this new battery program has opened the flood gates for massive amounts of “oh GOD whyyyy?!”. SO…I have been ridiculously busy and that of course is no help to my mental state. I get so worked up that I pretty much just get home, put on auto pilot, then watch tv for hours till I pass out. As you can imagine, that’s not a conducive environment for productivity lol.

The kicker is that I realize this, and am working very hard to try and be at least a little productive. I have been picking away at one of my novels though and I am currently at the 10,000 word mark which is extremely exciting.

I’ve even found another literary agency with agents that sounds extremely promising…I haven’t told anyone, but I think I can share it here lol…

After finding these guys and reading up on the agents, I have found a madame that may actually be a good fit for one of the children’s book pieces I made long ago. So…fingers crossed Gophs, I’m going to query her.

Now, that most daunting update and a dreaded phrase for any writer to see…I have decide to, START OVER.

That’s right, this reading Gopher is taking an 8,000 word manuscript and starting all over lol.

“Jesus Gopher but whyyyyyyyy?!”

Simple, I enjoy it.

“Mad Gopher say what?!”

You heard me, I enjoy it. I don’t really see starting over as a bad thing. Sometimes my characters have better ways of saying things than they did before, and I’m happy to oblige. It reinvigorates my drive to put things down and for the parts I feel are just right I already have it down; so you just copy and paste. You’d be surprised how quickly a manuscript can come to fruition when you do this.

Ahhh, it’s good to put this all down. It helps me see my goal and the path I need to take to bring it forth. Well, I hope to get back into blogging regularly, and I’ll update you all with my progress as well. So wish me luck Gophs, and may you all find it in your life and dreams as well.

Until next time 😉