Among the Shine Clan, Dellani Oakes

Among the Shine Clan – Part 6

among-the-shine-clan-coverFiddlestix, Kaz and Harmony agree to accompany General Scott and his men inside their fortress under the mountain. Part of the agreement includes them disarming, as well as neutralizing any cyber weapons. It’s not ideal, but they really have no other choice.

No one said anything until they were deep underground in a conference room. Deacon, Jasper and ten of their men took up one end of the table. Fiddlestix and her two men sat at the other. She waited for Deacon Scott to speak, but he just stared at her. Good at playing mind games herself, she stared back, letting her eyes travel over his body without expression. She lingered on his massive chest, her gaze drifting down to the tabletop, though one got the impression that wasn’t what she was looking at.

She didn’t appear to be impressed, but her mind was dancing around, singing a song of great appreciation. Deacon Scott exuded sexual virility. Like a scent, it surrounded her, burrowing deep inside. Never in her life had she been so attracted to a man. It really irritated her, because he was one of the most arrogant, annoying, hard edged, coldhearted men it had ever been her bad luck to encounter. He was a walking, talking contradiction from whom she got mixed signals. Priding herself on her ability to size up an adversary, she couldn’t get a handle on General Scott. She quit trying, waiting for him to speak. He seemed bent on the same thing. It was a silent standoff.

Fidgeting nervously, Jasper Scott nudged his brother. He didn’t play the silent game like Deacon did. It wasn’t that he couldn’t, he just thought it was a waste of time. He wanted answers as much as his brother, but he was willing to go about it differently. Given the need, Jasper could extract information from even the most reticent. Clearing his throat, he nudged his brother again. Deacon broke eye contact with Fiddlestix long enough to glare at his brother.

He didn’t say a word, but his eyes asked a question, “What?”

Jasper raised an eyebrow asking a question of his own. Deacon blinked, cutting his eyes at the three at the end of the table as if giving permission. Jasper leaned forward, laying his forearms and palms on the table in front of him. His dark hair flowed around him like molten chocolate. He too wore a thin, red tied braid.

“Miss Braun,” he started.

“Master Sergeant,” Kaz corrected automatically. Reddening, his lips snapped shut and he deemed it wise not to talk again.

“Beg pardon, ma’am. Master Sergeant. I’m sure you can understand our hesitation in accepting what you say.”

Fiddlestix nodded. “But you’ve had trouble at your north gate. I’d say, if it’s a well populated area, you’ve lost close to fifty people since they broke through. Probably took them roughly twenty-five hours to get in, now you can’t get them out. Am I close?”

The brothers exchanged a look that she couldn’t interpret. Deacon nodded ever so slightly.

“Twenty-four and a half to be precise,” Jasper said quietly. “Upwards of forty people. Mostly soldiers but a few civilians too.”

“Look….” She sighed heavily, running her fingers through her short blond hair. “I didn’t want to come in like this. I asked my commanding officer, General McLain, to contact you. He knew about your father, he knew this location.”

“How would he know that?” Jasper was incredulous.

“He didn’t share that with me, Jasper.”

She had no idea what his rank was. The Shine Clan wore identical uniforms but no insignia.

“General McLain?” Deacon frowned deeply. “Thomas McLain?”

Fiddlestix thought for a moment. Did she know the general’s first name. She visualized the nameplate on his desk. General T. H. McLain.

“Could be. I don’t know the general that well,” she smirked. “Not like the old man and I are on a first name basis. His initials are T.H.”

For the first time, Deacon’s eyes twinkled. His face remained stony, but there was a glimmer of something in his eyes.

“If it’s Thomas McLain, it would explain a lot. Short guy, bad attitude, sort of exudes this aura of….” He hesitated for a word that wouldn’t offend a lady.

“Abject stupidity?” She nodded. “That’s our general. Dumbest son-of-a-bitch I ever met.”

© 2017 Dellani Oakes

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Article, History, Rachel Rueben, Writing Process

The Research Process That Went Into Miss Mary Mack

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Image via Pixabay

At the beginning of most writing projects there is a bit of excitement as well as fear when it comes to approaching certain topics.  Many authors love stirring the pot but at the same time we need to be sure that we’re making sense.  No matter how desperately we want to be articulate or intellectual, if we’re not making sense we’ve failed as artists.  For example, in one of my scenes in Miss Mary Mack, I had several scenes where the children were in school and back in the 1930’s, school was a much different place than it is today.

I wanted to begin the chapter with the children saying the Pledge of Allegiance however, there was problem with that, the Pledge of Allegiance wasn’t officially accepted by the U.S. Congress until 1942 and even then it was revised in 1959.  So I had to find the right version for my book to recite.  That was my first hurdle, the next would be another scene where several kids were chosen to raise the flag but as you guessed there was a problem.  You see the flag we know today was different back then because there were only 48 states.  Alaska and Hawaii were still only territories.  So my scenes had to be rewritten to reflect that.

Regrouping & Redeploying

To say I was annoyed by all this would be an understatement but I was determined to learn how schools functioned back then.  I found interviews and historical sites that filled in the gaps and learned everything you possibly could about school.  I learned about burn barrels which were used for waste disposal in country schools and even what types of lunch children brought to school (mainly leftovers from dinner or breakfast).  This type of information enabled me to make this world more tangible and relatable.

Including Myths & Folklore

As I mentioned last month, Miss Mary was a compilation of people but she was mainly inspired by the character Rosa Carmichael, a matron of a Civil War orphanage.  Rosa was an infamous character who was accused of abusing children in her care however, there is no proof that she ever existed.  The story goes that she was tried and acquitted of abuse only to be ran out of town after being accused a second time.  There are no court documents mentioning such an event and no grave was ever found belonging to Rosa.  Yet this doesn’t stop the tale from being told by locals as well as tour guides.  I took pieces of the story and wove them into my own, for example, folklore says, that in the cellar of the orphanage, there were chains where children were beaten and tortured.  However, the folklore forgets to mention that the orphanage was commandeered during the Civil War and it was most likely POWs that were shackled in that cellar.  So in my story, I make the cellar a place where unruly children are disciplined.

Why Fuss Over Minor Details?

It’s true that most people won’t notice the finer points if you don’t tell them so would it have mattered if I had the children in my story saying the Pledge of Allegiance in 1930?  Probably not, but it would’ve been embarrassing if someone did notice.  Yes all books have mistakes or inaccuracies but that doesn’t let us off the hook.  It’s our responsibility as authors to make sure our work is as great as it can possibly be.  Things don’t have to be perfect, but they do have to be professional.  If you can go the extra mile, why not?  Who knows, maybe your readers will go the extra mile for you and tell everyone about your book.  🙂

Bio: Rachel Rueben is author of YA, supernatural as well as romance books.  Her work can be found her on the Cereal Authors blog as well as Wattpad.  She is also a blogger at Writing By The Seat Of My Pants where she discusses self-publishing and rarely refers to herself in the third person.

Amanda Thrasher, books, Cereal Authors, Dellani Oakes, JD Holiday, Karen Vaughan, Rachel Rueben, Ruth Davis Hays, Stephanie Osborn

It’s Our 5th Anniversary & We’re Celebrating!

 

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I can’t believe it’s been five years!  You know they say for a 5th anniversary you’re supposed to buy wood but the only thing I can think of that a writer would want that’s wooden is maybe a pencil?  Okay, how about a paperweight?  Hey, you know paper is technically made from trees, imagine it, I can be the Oprah of loose leaf paper…

Oprah Meme

Call me crazy but I don’t see anyone getting excited over paper products.  As you see, tradition isn’t very helpful when it comes to a fifth anniversary.  However instead of going on about how lame these gift traditions are, I’d rather explain why we decided to do this blog in the first place…

Once upon a time, a group of authors got together and decided form a collective blog where we shared book excerpts, writing tips, or just plain ranted.  Today, with over 1,100 posts, we’ve surprised even ourselves by the amount of work we’ve done and I can only speak for myself but I’m proud of what we’ve accomplished here.  If it weren’t for this blog, I wouldn’t have started, let alone finished my romance novel, Fedelta.

This blog keeps me accountable, it forced me to take my career seriously.  It also keeps me surrounded by other authors who are also pursuing their dream and that’s infectious.

As I look back on the last five years, I noticed that many of the authors that started out with us are no longer around.  Some had health problems or money issues, while one of us actually died!  It’s been quite the journey nonetheless and the fact that we’re still here, and still writing, tells you about our determination.  This isn’t our hobby, we’re serious!

Anyway, enough of my babbling, I wanted to showcase the works of our authors here and hope you take the time to pick up one of our books.  Just click on the graphics, and it will take you to that author’s Amazon page.

Dellani Oakes Author of Sci-Fi & Romance:

Dellani s Sci Fi 1

Dellani s Romace Collage

J.D. Holiday: Author of Children’s Books & Short Stories:

JD Holiday Collage 1

Karen Vaughan: Author of Cozy Mysteries:

Karen Vaughans Collage

Amanda M. Thrasher: Author of YA & Children’s Books:

Amanda Thrasher s Collage 1

Amanda s YA Novels Collage

Ruth Davis Hays Author of Fantasy Novels:

Ruth Davis Hays Book Cover Collage 1

Rachel Rueben: Author of Romance & YA

Rachel Rueben Collage 1

Stephanie Osborn: Author of Sci-Fi & Mystery Novels:

Stephanie Osborn s Book Collage 1

Stephanie Osborn Mystery Collage

I guess the moral to this story is, to always surround yourself with people who are doing the thing you want to do.  Despite what the naysayers tell you, you can succeed at a career in publishing.  It just takes time and dedication.  A few years ago, there was a TED Talk concerning the subject of grit and how success is usually determined not by intelligence or talent, but by grit.  Grit is often defined as determination and/or resolve.  After seeing that video, this blog immediately came to mind, because I can say without a doubt, that the Cereal Authors are some of the grittiest authors you will ever meet and I mean that with all the love in the world.  ❤

Anyways, happy anniversary guys, it’s been a privilege to know you all and to be part of this blog.  And here’s to the next chapter of our journey…

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Most of the images in this post are courtesy of Pixabay

 

 

 

Among the Shine Clan

Among the Shine Clan – Part 5

among-the-shine-clan-coverAfter her people disappear, Fiddlestix is left with only Kaz and Harmony. Convinced that the Shine Clan are monitoring them, she hurls insults at thin air, until her men think she’s insane. Out of the woods, a group of huge men appear—not the least of whom is General Deacon Scott, leader of the of the Shine Clan. He’s not happy with her.

“Yes. Is there somewhere else we could talk? More private?”

“Anything you have to say to me, Master Sergeant, you can say in front of my men. You folks may keep secrets from your subordinates, but that’s not Shine Clan way.”

“The men who attacked you are AWOL, General Scott. Their handler, Pete Livingston, decided to walk out with his cyber unit.”

“Anyone know why a man would do a fool thing like that?” This from the dark man to General Scott’s left.

“No one shared that information with me,” Fiddlestix said. “That being the U.S. Army’s way.”

“Jasper, get the lady a stool. I think we’re gonna be here awhile.”

“Yes, Deacon.” He didn’t salute, but he treated the other man with deference.

Returning a moment later, he carried two camp stools. He set one behind Fiddlestix, carelessly brushing the back of her leg as he set it up. She had no doubt he’d done it on purpose, but she didn’t mind. Under different circumstances, she’d have encouraged him. Instead, she sat down and waited for General Scott to speak again. He sat slowly, warily.

“So, for reasons unknown, old Pete decides to go walkies with a bunch of cyber crazies? Has he gone addlepated in the brainpan?”

“Truthfully, General Scott, I don’t know. As you say, we do keep secrets. My general didn’t share that tidbit with me. McLain is playing this one close. I know very little about the circumstances of their leaving.”

“And yet you’re here to help? I fail to see how three people can help me and us at all.”

“I had a few more when I started.”

He didn’t respond.

“I know how to turn them off.”

“Well, why didn’t you say so? Do it, be my guest. Turn the bastards off and let us bury our dead.”

“It’s not that simple. I have to have line of sight with them. It’s a security measure. The receiver is very low range and the mountains drop it to just about nil.”

Deacon Scott’s eyes scanned Fiddlestix from the top of her spiky blonde hair to the toes of her combat boots. He allowed himself to be momentarily distracted by some parts in between. Despite the fact that she was an Army officer, she was all woman. Her tempestuous gray eyes met his confidently. The tilt of her chin and set of her jaw were defiant, challenging him to give her an excuse to kiss him…. He meant kill him. Yes, that was it.

He didn’t let himself linger over her firm breasts and taut thighs, focusing instead on the incredibly powerful cyber arm that marred the outline of her body with a harsh, metallic reminder that she was a deadly and capable warrior first and a beautiful woman second.

“Well,” he said softly. “Supposing I allow you into our territory, what can you offer besides you three and the codes? I don’t see how you’re in any way useful to me.”

“I had a squad of forty-four when I hit these woods, but I expect you know that already.” Her full, pink lips snapped shut.

Deacon nodded slowly, assessing the situation more closely. She was pissed about her people. He couldn’t say he blamed her, but she couldn’t fault him for protecting his home.

“That you did,” he conceded. “So?”

“So? I’d like them back, General Scott. We didn’t come here to cause trouble.”

“Deacon,” Jasper touched his shoulder hesitantly. “We should probably go inside. It doesn’t feel safe out here.”

Deacon’s eyes flickered over to his brother, taking in the concern. Jasper might be several years younger, but he’d be hard pressed to find a better soldier or a more cautious one. Knowing that Jasper’s wariness bordered on telepathic, he nodded slightly. Jasper motioned to the men who surrounded Fiddlestix and her companions, disarming them.

She, Kaz and Harmony allowed themselves to be escorted into the Shine Clan stronghold without protest. Even Fiddlestix said nothing when a man virtually twice her size and circumference attached a miniaturized cyber damper to her arm so she couldn’t activate her weaponry.

© 2017 Dellani Oakes

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Among the Shine Clan

Among the Shine Clan – Part 4

among-the-shine-clan-coverThe mission has hardly begun when strange things start to happen. Without warning, several of the platoon disappear off the scanner. No one can explain it, including Kaz, who is watching the scanner.

“What?” Fiddlestix rounded on Kaz who looked at his computer screen helplessly.

“They were there a second ago, then poof! Gone!”

“Thirty people don’t go poof!”

“They just did!” Kaz was worried and scared, which made him rather surly.

Feeling surly herself, Fiddlestix grabbed the computer from his hands, nearly dropping it. Aside from the three of them, there were no other life forms showing on the screen.

“Not even a squirrel! You can’t tell me on this entire mountain there’s no squirrels!” She stopped, lowering her gun, turning in a slow circle. “I don’t know what you’re playing at, but if anything happens to my people, there will be hell to pay! I promise you that! Just so we’re clear, we’re here to help you. Or haven’t you noticed you’ve got a passel of crazy, cyber soldiers battering down your back door?”

“Master Sergeant? Are you okay?” Harmony’s dark face was clouded with worry.

“I know they’re watching, or listening, monitoring us somehow! Come on! Show yourselves! If I wanted to cause you trouble, would I march in here like a fool? Cowards! Hiding under your mountain! Come out!”

Spinning in a low, continuous circle, she bellowed for all she was worth. Hurling insults, she castigated the landscape. Harmony and Kaz looked more and more concerned. Kaz gasped suddenly, pointing over Fiddlestix’ left shoulder. She felt a tingling. Moving around so she faced the opposite direction, she kept her hands carefully away from her weapons, motioning her men to do the same. Taking a step forward, she focused on the bracken to the west, waiting.

A moment later, the bushes rustled and dozens of huge men poured forth. Even the smallest of them dwarfed Harmony, who was six foot seven. Their bodies were muscled in ways that Fiddlestix had never seen before. All of them were tall, buff and disarmingly handsome. None of them were smiling.

One man stepped forward, literally toe to toe with Fiddlestix. Well over seven feet tall, he loomed over her. At six three, she was used to looking down on most of her team members. This man made her lean back, gazing at his chin. Despite her irritation and disquietude, her heart fluttered, but not from fear. He was, for lack of a more descriptive term, gorgeous. Built along the lines of a Norse god, his golden blond hair flowed down his back. A tight, narrow braid was knotted with a red strip of leather and tossed casually over his left shoulder. His crystal blue eyes bored into her stormy gray ones.

“I’m here.” His deep, husky, musical voice filled her ears. His Southern accent was strong, flavoring his words like honey. “I can’t say I much appreciate the disparaging remarks about my character, though.” His lips made a firm, tight line. A steely glint flickered in the back of his eyes.

“I need to speak to your leader.”

Fiddlestix folded her arms across her ample chest, eyes flickering around the perimeter of the clearing, taking in the opposition. She counted twenty, but figured there were at least twice that many that she couldn’t see.

“About?”

“I don’t wanna explain twice, so I’d like to talk to him.” She made it clear she wasn’t moving until he granted her what she wanted.

“Look, lady, I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but do you know who you’re talking to?” A slightly shorter, but more muscular man detached himself from the group behind the blond god.

He was even more massively built than the other man, dark and brooding. They had to be brothers, there was a strong family resemblance. Especially in that defiant jaw. His eyes were dark brown, the other man’s were a clear, vivid blue with a steely edge.

“I’m Master Sergeant Hannah Braun of the United States Army,” she began confidently. “I demand to speak….”

“Honey,” the dark haired man’s brown eyes danced happily. “You’re speakin’ to him right now. After the noise you made in our woods, do you think anyone else was gonna come? Master Sergeant Hannah Braun, meet General Deacon Scott of the Shine Clan.”

Fiddlestix looked stunned. This was the leader of the Shine Clan? He wasn’t any older than she was! Had she heard right?

“You’re General Scott? We were led to believe that your leader was an older man, in his fifties?”

Deacon’s eyes clouded and his jaw worked fitfully as he tried to control his emotions. “My father was killed recently in a raid. You say you know something about the freaks who took our north gate two days ago?”

© 2017 Dellani Oakes

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Life, Rachel Rueben, writer's life, Writing Process

When You’re The Killer!: A Revelation About Writer’s Block

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Image via Pixabay

 

In the last year I’ve been suffering from writers block and I couldn’t understand why?  I mean I could see the story clearly but I had trouble coming up with the right words.  Every scene was a struggle, which led to me abandoning the story (Miss Mary Mack) several times.  Then one day I was having a discussion with a friend who was having trouble dealing with her teenage daughter when she came to the realization that their problems were rooted in the fact that they were both so similar.  Now if that isn’t the ultimate form of irony then I don’t know what is?  However as my writer’s block continued, I read several articles on why authors write themselves into their work and reached a shocking conclusion: I was Miss Mary!!!

No, I don’t go around murdering people, (although those thoughts do pop up in my head from time to time) I took pieces of my life and sprinkled them throughout the story.  Miss Mary was in fact physically modeled after my first grade principal Miss Murray, who wore dark clothing that covered her body from head to toe.  She also was a disciplinarian which made her a terrifying figure in the first grade.  However she wasn’t evil, just tough.

I also had a fourth grade bus driver by the name of Miss Johnson who was sometimes called, Miss MaryShe didn’t really like driving a bus and insisted we all ride in silence.  Weird, huh?

Then there’s me, I’m not too fond of children, I mean don’t hate them, I just prefer not to be around them.  P.S. I come from a long line of women who were reluctant mothers.  So I was able to draw on that when it came time to summon the callousness required for a villain.  It was also then I realized that I was trying to make sense of my past.  And guess what?  Miss Mary is the perfect vehicle for that, I can run loose and do as much damage without really affecting anyone in the real world.  The big plus is that I can kill and not wind up in prison.  I guess this is what George R.R. Martin feels like every time he sits down at his computer.  LOL!

Okay, I’m Getting To The Point!

When your work hits too close to home, it can be difficult to navigate through the story.  If you have a real unresolved conflict in your own life, it may be near impossible to resolve the one in your story because you can’t imagine your characters finding peace.  You know, the apology that never came, the relationship that failed, or the never ending dysfunction of a family, can really damage your perception and almost make you blind to the obvious.  I know, I had this problem and the only way to get through it was to think my way logically through it.  I had to know what readers or in this case society expected from this book.  I had to dole out punishment and correct injustices.  That doesn’t always happen in real life.  I also had to step back and let my characters go their own way.  Once I did that, their world unfolded and things began making sense again.

A Final Thought

As with most things in life, writing isn’t about you.  Sure you can create worlds and characters but once you do so, they start to develop their own reality.  Try as you may, you are not of their world and vice versa.  Only a piece of you will live on in your work, but the rest of you gets to move on and make peace with the reality that is meant to be.

Bio: Rachel Rueben is author of YA, supernatural as well as romance books.  Her work can be found her on the Cereal Authors blog as well as Wattpad.  She is also a blogger at Writing By The Seat Of My Pants where she discusses self-publishing and rarely refers to herself in the third person.  😉

author, Cereal Authors, Excerpts, Fantasy, Fiction, Life, paranormal, Romance, Ruth Davis Hays, Sci-Fi, Uncategorized, YA

So New, It Doesn’t Even Have a Title

A work in progress:

The juice box was definitely against me. Its resistance was punctuated by a taunting titter.  My efforts to open it were futile, it mocked.

 

WIP copyNo, wait. The snickering was not the juice box. It came from down the lunch table.  I didn’t even have to look their way. I knew who was laughing, and I didn’t want to see if it was me they were laughing at.  In my heart, I knew it was.

 

I continued to stab at the little cellophane covered hole with the sadly beveled end of the hard plastic straw like Van Helsing at the climax of a bad B movie. The final strike bent my straw, but rewarded me with a squirt of lukewarm apple juice in the face. An arterial explosion worthy of the best special effects artist in the business.

 

The laughter from the perfectly coifed girls at the other end of the table could not be ignored this time.  My life was not a bad horror movie; it was a comedy and I was the hapless victim of a situational shtick.

 

Staring down at the lunch tray, I watched the juice drown my stale, rectangular pizza slice.  At least, I wasn’t hungry anymore anyway.  My appetite was ruined by the whispered jokes about me destroying the little paper box with my brute strength.

 

I closed my eyes and swore that if I heard one more comment from those four makeup-slathered, social media celeb wannabes about me being a “she-male”, I’d flip this table on their heads.

 

Not that I hold any direct animosity for She-males, or what have you, but I do resent lies being spread about me.  And, I resent those who start the lies.  Namely, Brittany.  My mom says I spend way too much time worrying about Brittany, her crew, and what they think or say about me.

 

Mom says it doesn’t matter what others think, only what I know about myself.  Yeah, she’s full of inspirational poster stuff like that.

 

Sorry, Mom.  But, it’s hard not to see myself reflected in the eyes and jeers of my fellow students.  My peers.  What a joke.  I have so very little in common with them that I hesitate to call them peers of any sort.  Alas, for the next year or so, I must.

 

Of course, using the word ‘alas’ in casual conversation is one of the things these girls would tease me about.  Can I help it if my grandfather read Shakespeare to me for the last fifteen years of his life?

 

The siren-like bell blared from the hall to announce the next class would begin in five.  I gathered my sloshing tray and stood, never glancing at Brittany once.  Fifth period was next.  Gym class, right after lunch.  Brilliant scheduling.

 

When was this nightmare going to end?

*****************************************************************************

I woke up the other day recounting my dream several times as I did to try and remember it. The sights, the feelings, the familiar trappings of high school. I often dream that I’m back in school, but never had I wanted to write them into a story. This one was fun.  Well, to me, running for my life and fighting creatures while possessing an unnatural strength in a dream is fun.  Others may call it a nightmare.  Either way, it spawned this new character. This is a little beginning snippet from what I will call my first Urban Paranormal Young Adult story.

It is such an infant at the moment that it has no name.  Heck, I just came up with the protagonist’s name this morning.  I hope you enjoy!

Character Quotes, Dellani Oakes, Karen Vaughan, Laura & Gerry series, Writing Process

AN ODE TO SNAPPY DIALOGUE

MY MOM ALWAYS TOLD ME TO FIND A GOOD HOOK IN YOUR STORY TO ENGAGE YOUR READERS. WHAT BETTER HOOK THAN GREAT DIALOGUE.

SOME AUTHORS SWEAR BY DESCRIPTIVE NARRATIVE  OTHERS LET THE CHARACTERS TELL THE STORY BY WHAT THEY SAY.

I, FOR ONE, LOVE GREAT DIALOGUE AND I KNOW A FEW WRITERS WHO AGREE THAT DIALOGUE TELLS THE STORY. SURE YOU NEED SOME NARRATIVE TO DESCRIBE WHAT IS GOING ON IN THE STORY BUT READERS REALLY RELATE TO WHAT THE CHARACTERS ARE SAYING.  IT MAKES THEM REAL.

HERE ARE A FEW OF MY FAVORITES FROM MY BOOKS AND THOSE OF A FELLOW AUTHOR DELLANI OAKES. MY OPINION IS “DELLANI IS THE QUEEN OF DIALOGUE!”

DEAD ON ARRIVAL

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CHAPTER 1

“Okay Gerry,” I said, “cut the crap!  How did you get Velcro’s’ body in here?”

“What do ya mean how? You mean you think I did this, thanks a lot!” he said, somewhat pissed.

“This wasn’t your handy-work?”

“No! Why would you think I would do such a horrid thing?”

“Not sure really; maybe because you and Ray have the only keys besides me, and you love practical jokes.”

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FROM LONE WOLF TALES

We’ve lost the summit, sir. They’re all gone.”

“Explain.”

“The locals have some kind of—thing. It took them all out. I got hit. It knocked me back, it’s the only reason I survived.”

“How many?”

“All of them, sir.”

“They took out thirty men?”

“One blast and they were gone. Poof!”

“People don’t go poof, Private.

OVER HER DEAD BODY

 

Karens final choice 6d.jpg

”Sanford!” She yelled with her hands on her hips. “We have to go! I have to be in New York in the morning. We need to catch the Red-eye!”

Sandy sighed and looked at me to bail him out somehow. “She is trying out for the Rockettes,” he whispered to me, just out of Blondie’s earshot, “but between you and me, Leena is a bit long in the tooth for all that.  She’s closing in on 40.”  Sandy looked at Leena –and then back at me.  “Alas, my wife and boss have spoken.  The glitzy Mrs. Brown was preening at her compact mirror.  “You don’t have to yell Leena,” Sanford addressed her; “I have my hearing aid in.”

Leena looked at me with derision again.  “Who’s the floozy?” she sneered.

I was seeing red and Sandy’s face was turning a similar color.

“Floozy?”  I spluttered.  I wanted to scratch her eyes out, but I refused to succumb to the base temptation to beat the broad senseless.  Sensing an impending catfight Gerry rushed to my side.

Sandy looked at his wife sternly.  “Leena that was tasteless and crass,” he admonished her, “you will apologize to Laura. How dare you defame this funeral of my dear friend Ethel by insulting this lovely girl?”

 

“Girl my ass,” Leena snarled, “she’s gotta be at least 35.”

If Gerry hadn’t held me back I would have bitch-slapped her into next week. Okay so I was almost 35, but that wasn’t the point.

Sandy was livid.  “I apologize for my wife’s bad behavior. I had better take her out of here.”

He handed me one of his cards and said he would be back in a few days most likely without his spouse.

 

THE NINJA TATTOO

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“Boys,” Vivica said sternly. “Stop it. If we have to be around one another all night, you’re going to have to get along. I refuse to be cast in the role of mother.”

“If you are, can I be the daddy?” Jed flashed a lopsided grin at her, hopping up from the table when Teague took a swing at him.

“One daddy’s enough,” Vivica gave Teague a lingering kiss, picked up her dishes and strutted into the kitchen.

“Holy, Mother of God,” Jed breathed when she was gone. “Teague, I love you like a brother, but I wish I’d seen her first!”

SO WHAT DO YOU LIKE BETTER NARRATIVE OR DIALOGUE?

Among the Shine Clan

Among the Shine Clan – Part 3

among-the-shine-clan-coverFiddlestix and her platoon are on their way. She’s found herself in charge, and isn’t happy about it. Hoping that things will go well, she’s prepared for the mission to go horribly wrong.

CAUTION STRONG LANGUAGE

“I have the feeling I’ve got cross hairs trained on me,” she mused, not voicing her disquiet to her people.

Her attitude was cocky and confident. She was damned if her troops were going to see her scared. Her gut might be tied in knots, but they wouldn’t know it. She’d learned a long time ago that the leader’s worry could transmit itself to the troops.

Less than five miles into Shine territory, strange things started to happen. Kaz contacted her over her headset. He wasn’t very clear, his signal breaking up.

“Uh, Master Sergeant?”

“Talk to me, Kaz.”

“The point team just disappeared.”

“Do you mean you lost sight of them?”

“No, Master Sergeant. They fuckin’ disappeared. Right off my screen. I sent Diaz and Harmony out to look for them, nothing. No sign.”

“On my way.”

Using hand signals, she brought her people in to tight formation and sped up. She was with Kaz in less than two minutes. Looking at the screen, she saw he was telling the truth. There should be a readout of all the squad members, but the bars for the point team were blank. Not flat lined, just blank. Not even their names appeared by the bar.

“Shit! Sound off!” she growled into her headset.

For the next thirty seconds, her soldiers stated their names. She came up another three short. That made, with the point team, seven.

“What the hell?”

Something was happening she had no control over and didn’t understand. Was it Shine Clan or the cyber unit? They weren’t finding bodies, so maybe they were still alive. She didn’t like it, but she didn’t have to like a situation to get the job done.

“Sound off every five minutes,”she ordered.

Walking slowly, cautiously, quietly, they proceeded deeper into Shine territory. The hairs on Fiddlestix’ neck danced with nervous energy. The feeling that she was being watched through a powerful scope increased the closer they got. She’d picked up the trail of the cyber unit shortly after the point team disappeared. They might be super soldiers, but they sucked at covering their trail. It occurred to her that they might have done it on purpose to lure them in. Her paranoia increased and she tightened security.

Five minutes later, three more of her people were gone. She called a halt. No one had seen the people disappear. It was as if they melted into the mist that surrounded them.

“It isn’t possible,” she muttered. “Grown people, soldiers, don’t just disappear! It is not possible!”

After the next sound off, four more were gone. Stifling a scream, she called another halt. Anticipating that the Shine Clan had sophisticated surveillance equipment, she ordered her people to stay put.

“Set up a perimeter patrol. No one leaves for any reason. I don’t care what you see or hear. Take cover and stay put. Kazinski, Harmony, you’re with me. Diaz, you’re in charge.”

“Yes, Master Sergeant,” she responded.

“I don’t give a shit what McLain says,” she told Harmony and Kaz. “I’m looking for the Shine Clan leader. If I can talk to the person in charge, I’ll feel better.”

They kept walking and she kept talking. To the men, it seemed like she was babbling, but she was banking on the fact that the Shine Clan could hear her.

“I don’t want my people hurt. We didn’t come here to cause trouble. We want to get the cyber unit and go home, then everyone’s happy.”

Kaz and Harmony looked at her like she was crazy. They knew this, why was she telling them something they already knew?

“Master Sergeant?” Kaz sounded worried.

“What?” She stopped babbling long enough to listen to him, but she kept moving.

“They’re gone.”

“What? Who?”

“The rest of them. Diaz and them. Just like the others.”

“What?” She rounded on Kaz who looked at his computer screen helplessly.

“They were there a second ago, then poof! Gone!”

© 2017 Dellani Oakes

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Cereal Authors, paranormal, Rachel Rueben, Uncategorized, Writing Process

Where On Earth Did Miss Mary Come From?

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Last month I shared an excerpt of my recent novel Miss Mary Mack and I’m sure some of you are really confused.  I understand after Fedelta, Miss Mary seems very different and maybe even strange but I followed the muse and she took me in a different direction. A very different direction.

Miss Mary was based on an experience I had one hot, summer’s night.  In fact it was so hot that I decided to sleep with the window open and as I was falling asleep, I heard giggling and a little girl singing, “Miss Mary Mac, Mac, Mac all dressed in black…”  At first I thought I was dreaming but it was just some silly neighborhood kids who had snuck out and were playing around at 1 a.m.  Yeah, I live in that kind of neighborhood.  When I realized what was going on, I was angry but also, inspired.  I wondered, how would these kids have survived back in the days before child abuse was considered a bad thing?  What can I say, I was having a Stephen King moment!  As my mind swirled, it was then that I saw her.  A woman, standing at the end of my bed and she was dressed in a matronly 1930’s style dress with granny boots.  As she looked down on me, I could see the scowl on her face and I knew immediately what was going on.  The muse was speaking.  So I got up and scribbled on a piece of paper the words: Miss Mary Mack and went to bed.

The next day, I did write a brief paragraph outlining the idea but did nothing with it.  At that time, I just started writing for this blog and Fedelta was born, I was also finishing up Eternal Bond, so I didn’t have the time to start yet another project.  But fate has a funny way of making you do things because over the next few months, I started hearing stories about Orphan Trains on Youtube as well as ghost stories from the Civil War.  The spark that lit the flame was a story I read about a woman by the name of Rosa Carmichael who ran an orphanage and was alleged to have abused the children in her care.  So I sat down and grudgingly wrote a few paragraphs which I finally shared last month.

I don’t have any idea as to where this story is going, but I know it’s going to lead me down paths I’ve never explored before.  Most books do.  What a lot of readers don’t know is that sometimes our stories surprise us (the writers) as much as it does them.  Actually this is the fun part of writing where characters become real, and situations uncertain.  In any case, I hope you stay tuned for the next couple of excerpts from the book because something tells me that Miss Mary is going to be one of my most challenging characters yet.

Bio: Rachel Rueben is author of YA, supernatural as well as romance books.  Her work can be found her on the Cereal Authors blog as well as Wattpad.  She is also a blogger at Writing By The Seat Of My Pants where she discusses self-publishing and rarely refers to herself in the third person.  😉