With the loss of the last surviving heir to the Peterson bloodline and the old pain of losing her beloved nanny Neeta, Addison fell out of sorts. It all left her feeling lost, despondent, and angry; ever so angry. She had a few aliases and papers to ensure what was hers remained hers. But her assumed name at the time would expire in due time, and she wasn’t too keen on opening up her secret to another mortal again. Changing times changed people and what moved in their hearts changed. The view of the world changed.
She was on her own for now.
The weather is cooling, its getting darker earlier, you can smell the lovely scent of wood in the fireplace. Fall, and more importantly, Halloween. The best holiday ever. Ghosts and goblins, witches and vampires. And lets not forget the ever important Zombies!
As always, I am dressed in a Gothic maroon and black lace dress, sporty black boots, and later this evening I will place upon my head my little pointed hat and cloak.
Granted, I live in the country, so I get no little trick or treaters, but I make up for it by making it a night on the town, spreading my cheer.
Do you do anything special for the evening? It doesn’t matter how old you are, its a fun night, let your hair down, or frightfully up!
This marks the end of the harvest in my sleepy little town, everyone is stocking up on firewood and venison.
The weather will keep getting cooler, how cold, we don’t know yet. Its been a questionable year, with no real sweltering heat, so it may just continue to be mild.
To all my little goths and geeks and freaks, keep safe! Don’t over indulge in the sweets, and keep those beloved pets inside for their protection!
If you’ve been thinking about reinvigorating your blogging or are finally ready to stop procrastinating on that book you’ve always wanted to write, these two great events (and communities) can give you the jolt of motivation you need.
NaMo what now?
NaNoWriMo and NaBloPoMo are short for “National Novel Writing Month” and “National Blog Posting Month,” respectively. In the first, writers commit to writing a 50,000-word novel between November 1 and November 30; in the second, to posting every single day in November.
310,095 participants started the month of November as auto mechanics, out-of-work actors, and middle school English teachers. They walked away novelists.
Although the two events are separate, they share a history: NaBloPoMo started in response to NaNoWriMo, when a group of bloggers who lacked the time or inclination to write…
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Well, its been a bit since I’ve tempted your eyes with a Book excerpt. My apologies. Life in my little slice of the world has been busy. Okay, not so much busy as me getting distracted. Yes…I’m one of those ‘oh, squirrel!’ types.
I found myself with a new pet, that my cat despises. Thankfully the overgrown pup remains outside. Then there is my gaming, which, yes…I totally got myself wrapped up in.
But come on…these things keep me out of trouble.
NaNoWriMo is fast approaching as well, and I’m being little miss cheerleader! Go Writers!
Updates and such should come in a more timely manner. Unless …oh…squirrel!…
Addison made herself comfortable in the room, stripping down to her corset and petticoat. She listened and waited; sharp hearing tuned to the noises of the home and family. When the home became quiet, the family having retired for the night, Addison crept through the halls. She started in the children’s rooms. One by one, she took each child up in her arms in a gentle manner, her mouth seeking that perfect spot where the blood pulsed within the neck. She killed each little one, draining them of their life giving blood. But her hunger was not sated; it was only a snack for her veracious appetite. And it would not do to leave untidy ‘loose ends.’
She made her way to the couple’s bedroom; her pale blue reflective eyes seeing everything clear in the darkness of the home. She entered into the bedroom, moving to the slumbering Thomas’ side of the bed. She climbed atop of him, straddling his waist, waking him. At his startled gasp and shocked questioning, he woke his wife.
Addison, using speed she hadn’t known she possessed, reached a hand to clamp down on Vivian’s throat, holding the woman still and quiet. She then leaned over the husband, and as she had done with the children, she roamed his neck for the pulsing beat.
So November is fast approaching, and though I’ve been writing for years, I’ve never participated in NaNo. This year I shall!!
I’m full of enthusiasm and excitement, not really for me, but for all those I’ve seen on the Wrimo forums. I love the idea of helping people along, giving advice and encouragement.
I really think this will be a good experience. 😀
Addison gave it a lot of though. As she dressed for the evening, she came up with the idea of a young niece of Aiden Jasper that could be the new deed bearer. Addison would appear years later to stake her claim as this niece. Of course, this was something she would have to do for…well…forever…to ensure she kept what was hers by right.
Satisfied with her plan, she looked herself over in the mirror. She dressed herself in one of her mother’s more risqué gowns. It was a deep crimson. Addison chuckled. It was fitting. Her corset cinched up tight as she had no need to breathe, making for ample bosoms while her waist was trim and petite.
She went to Neeta’s room, letting herself into her nanny’s room. The old woman sat on her bed, and her spell book and chicken bones lay out before her.
Addison looked everything over. “Conjuring?” She asked in a plain tone. Neeta shook her head. “Divinatin’.” The elder woman said. Addison gave a nod. “Nothing looks too bright, does it?” She asked though she wasn’t seeking a response. “I want a copy of your book. Everything. Every spell, enchantment, curse, hex, ward…everything.” Addison then said in a demanding voice, yet her tone was soft.
“You be dressin’ like a harlot Miss Addison…you be goin’ to da city?” Neeta then asked somewhat bold.
Casting Shadows Everywhere by L.T. Vargus (Twitter@ltvargus) – Amazon: http://amzn.to/13186gI -Incredible 1st person narrative! Fight Club-esque.
She had been missing for more than a week. Her father and the local sheriff found her horse and carriage. With further investigation, they found her soiled, torn and bloodied dress in the dirty alleyway, along with her coin purse, still full of money as well as her shoes. They feared the worst.
Aiden and Caroline mourned the loss of their one and only child. They held a funeral service at the family cemetery on the northern part of their property, far from the swamp and bayous.
Addison remained within the city. She would feed on the less fortunate, the homeless, and the slaves chained to posts in the square. Sometimes she would even break into a home, feeding on an entire family for the night, taking refuge in their home during the daylight hours. That was when she got the first glimpse of herself and what she had become.
She looked into the tall dressing mirror. Her once neatly curled hair was long and straight, messy and disheveled. Dirt and dried blood stained her now porcelain skin, no longer holding that sun kissed glow.
The sight of her eyes haunted her. No longer were they a vivid blue, but now a pale blue, very pale. In the light of a single candle she had lit, they reflected back at her, like a cat’s eyes.
She sobbed at her appearance. She wanted to go home. She wanted her mother and her father.
What would they think of her? Do they miss her? She had so many questions. She was left with no one to answer those questions for her. She was alone.
She stayed within the city for another week, gorging herself endlessly before moving toward the outskirts, to the less populated areas; back toward home.
She walked the dirt road leading to the front of the plantation home. One of the slaves holding a torch for light quickly came running. “Miss Addison…dat be you?” He asked hesitantly upon seeing the pale girl, her corset and petticoat stained in blood and dirty, and the petticoat torn and ripped, ragged at the ends above her slim ankles and muddy bare feet.
“Master! Master!” He yelled, waking everyone on the property. “It be Miss Addison…I think…” He said, not wanting to get too close. She smelled.