Sunday, March 8, 2015
Mary: Welcome to the blog, Grumwald.
Grumwald: I was promised some of Jesse's golden goodness, and yet my glass is empty.
Mary: We're out of Jesse's rum. Can I get you an iced tea?
Grumwald: A little spirit of the Glen will do then. I prefer Fiddich, but I'll settle for something else.
Mary: Of course. (shouts) Hanover, can you get our friend Grumwald a glass scotch.
Hanover: You never listen, do you Mary? I told you to have a glass of something ready.
Mary: Alright, you were right. I just thought the interview might go better without whiskey.
Hanover: (sets down a glass of scotch in front of Grumwald) You take it up, right?
Grumwald: I talk it any way I can get it. (leans over and whispers to Hanover) She doesn't take after her father much, does she?
Hanover: Be easy on her. She's got her father's genius, but not his fortitude.
Grumwald: (raises his glass and shoots it down). I'd better have another.
(Mary gives Hanover a scornful look.)
Hanover: I'll just leave the bottle.
Grumwald: Good idea. (pours another full glass) Now I'm ready.
Mary: You are in charge of the goblins, is that correct?
Grumwald: In charge of is a strong word. We goblins don't really believe in an authoritarian structure. I am a goblin and I sometimes have to make decisions that involve other goblins, but mostly I'd rather just enjoy life.
Mary: What do you do for enjoyment?
Grumwald: (raises his glass and winks at Mary, then takes a swallow).
Mary: Anything besides drinking?
Grumwald: Dancing is fun. We goblins can take pretty much any shape, you know. Making bets is even more fun.
Mary: Have you ever made a bet you regret?
Grumwald: I think I'll take a fifth on that one.
Mary: Take the fifth?
Grumwald: The fifth, a fifth. You Americans are so picky about language.
Mary: Well, it's just that the expression...
Grumwald: Blah blah blah. Did you invite me here to bicker about American expressions?
Mary: No sir. How would you describe your relationship to the fairies?
Grumwald: I have never had a relationship with a fairy -- maybe a goblin or two in the guise of a fairy, but never a fairy. They think they're too good for a one-legged goblin.
Mary: How did you lose your leg?
Grumwald: I lost it sitting on a bar stool. Truth be told, I could grow it back any time I wanted, but it's too hard to keep track of who's seen me with it and who hasn't. So some years back -- it might have been around the time you were born or maybe a bit after -- I decided to just stop growing one at all.
Mary: Back to the fairies.
Grumwald: You know, if you're so interested in the fairies, maybe you should interview one. I'm sure Hyacinth would love to flutter her wings for you if you give her a bit of honeysuckle wine. Don't stiff her like you tried to do me. (shakes his head and takes a larger sip) I probably shouldn't say this, but I'm glad we didn't end up with you.
Mary: End up with me?
Grumwald: That was the plan. You were a blue baby -- meant for the goblins.
Mary: Don't lie to me, Mr. Grumwald.
Grumwald: Goblins never lie. You're confusing us with the fairies. (picks up the bottle and looks at it) Or humans, perhaps. This bottle might say Glen Fiddich, but this is rail whiskey. Our interview is over, Miss O'Malley. If you want another, you'd best track down Jesse. It'll take a snoot or two of his rum to convince me to come back.
Thursday, March 5, 2015
I's been asked to say what I's thankful for. I guess the one thing other'n Agatha, is Boo. Boo's been my right-hand dog for so long it be hard to imagine life without him. So I's gots to thinkin' 'bout the time I met Misha and told her about how me and Boo met.
Misha looked up and saw a small man standing in the doorway. He wore dungarees over a cotton pajama shirt. His longish hair was sticking out in every direction. “I like dogs. Maybe he can tell.”
“I told her I ain’t decent, but she don’t listen. She’s worse’n a damn fairy. I guess she told you, my name’s Swampy and this here is Boo.” The dog stood up abruptly and charged at Swampy, knocking against his chest. “Down boy. I didn’t say ‘Come’. I’s jes tellin’ the girl your name.” The dog sat and kept his eyes focused on Swampy.
“Is he from Catahoula?” Misha asked.
“He from right here in the swamp. I was out huntin’ gator one day and heard a whinin’ racket you wouldn’t believe. I looked inside the log where it was comin’ from and seen these two eyes glowin’. Well, first I thought it was a baby coon and then out he jumps. No bigger’n this, he was,” Swampy held his hands as if he was encircling a small acorn squash. “I figure we was meant to be together. He gots mixed up eyes just like me, but his are mixed up colors.” Misha looked at the dog’s eyes and noticed one eye was blue and the other brown.
“He’s an ugly cur is what he is, but he earns his keep.” Swampy gave Misha a twisted smile and scratched the dog’s head. “Ever lost a goat in the swamp?”
“We never stayed in one place long enough to raise livestock.”
“Well I raise goats and one gets lost in the swamp, you might as well give it up as gator food. But Boo here rounds ‘em up and brings ‘em home. Pigs too. Hey I’s got some baby pigs, you wanna meet ‘em?”
If I recollect right, I's already told you about Misha meetin' the pigs and I hear one hollerin' now for food, so I'd best go see to it. If y'uns like this story and want to know more 'bout my meetin' up with Misha and all of everything else that went on, you can read Rips in the Weave. It's free for most readers and only 99 cents for Kindle.
A note from Rachelle
Boo was inspired by @SidTheCatahoula one of @RagabashGirl 's anipal friends on Twitter. Before we met Sid, I had never even heard of the Catahoula breed, but Sid was such a great dog, I thought a Catahoula would be a perfect companion for Swampy. So, I am thankful I got to meet @SidTheCatahoula and for all the pals I've met on Twitter. I don't let @RagabashGirl tweet much these days, but we still think of all of you.
If you want to learn more about Catahoulas, here are some links.
Catahoula Leopard Dog - Breed History
Monday, November 3, 2014
Last July, the writers worked on two Dime Store Novel stories. Neither one is quite finished, so they are back at it for the November Nanowrimo.
Rachelle Reese is working on Louisiana Snowflake a story that takes place in 1905 and 1906. That time was one of the happiest times in my life. However, a dark peril faced New Orleans during that time and my best friend Dylan Worth's future was in jeopardy as 1906 began.
Here's a short excerpt of what she wrote this weekend:
The creature on the throne just stared at her with unblinking eyes that flitted between her face and her growing belly. A deep throated noise rose from the creature, unintelligible except for one word – unborn.
“Jumbl-iya is pleased with your offering, Seth,” the vulture said. “Come forward and she will reward you.”
The panther slinked forward to the beast on the throne. Sue-Li took a slow step toward the door.
“Stay,” the vulture squealed and rose up, flapping its wings. It was behind her in an instant, its long talons pressing into her shoulders.
“You’re hurting me,” she said.
The talons dug deeper.
The panther sat on its haunches and extended a paw. The creature inserted a syringe under the panther’s fur and pressed the plunger. The panther slunk down to the floor and lay still for a moment.
“Retreat to your room while the pleasure is with you,” the vulture cawed.
There's a lot going on in Louisiana Snowflake, so I hope you'll check back periodically through the month for little teasers.
Don't forget, the Dime Store Novel series starts with Rips in the Weave. You can get Rips in the Weave FREE right now at the following retailers:
Saturday, October 25, 2014
The authors have been working on the story of my parents. You see...my mother became addicted to heroin in 1905. All their research, plus some events that happened prompted Rachelle Reese to write Riding the Black Horse. It's not a Dime Store Novel, but she is sharing it for Coffin Hop and I think it's worth the read.
You know I talk to ghosts. You'd think I'd get enough of them, but I still like a good ghost story, so I'll be going on the Coffin Hop and I'll definitely check out Dust Bowl by K. F. Kirwin.
Tuesday, September 23, 2014
I knew Nymeria though. That nymph caused me nothin' but trouble, tryin' to get that new nymph Misha to see me nekkid. Bad enough seein' the two of them nekkid standin' there on my porch.
'Sides, apart from runnin' with Nymeria, Misha seemed like a nice sort. She liked my pigs and Boo and that's what matters.
I knows Agatha tole' you 'bout the happ'nins with Khrou-ach, but there's more to Rips in the Weave than just that old god war stuff. My friend Sassafras Cats has big problem with that sister of hers, Delilah. I never much liked Delilah. Grammy always tole me that clothes don't make a girl, it's what underneath the skin and Delilah's got nuttin' but pride underneath all them bustles and silks.
If you don't believe me, you can read it for yourself and you don't even have to pay a dime. You can get Rips in the Weave as a free ebook. You can download it for any ebook format from Smashwords. It is also available free on iTunes, Nook and Kobo.
Friday, September 19, 2014
Thousands of years ago, a dragon named Khrou-ach tried to take control of the realms. We gods banished him from taking a physical form. Since that time, he has existed as wind and electricity, occasionally summoning enough energy to wreak havoc on the world of the mortals by causing destructive storms.
I led the challenge against Khrou-ach and during one of his power surges, he was able to destroy the portal between the mortal world and my realm. I am earthbound. Once it bothered me, but it doesn't anymore. I have found my place here among the creatures I created and among those we can only assume were created by The Great One.
In 1897, Khrou-ach mustered enough strength to not only cause a destructive storm, but to entice Delilah Cats, a young girl with some talent for natural magic, but no common sense, to help him. The story of what happened is told in Rips in the Weave. It begins the story of how the weave between the realms begins to tear.
The authors have decided to offer Rips in the Weave as a free ebook. You can download it for any ebook format from Smashwords. It is also available free on iTunes and Kobo. It is available on the Nook for a penny.
I hope you'll take the time to read this tale of how the realms began to tear. It's far from over.
Friday, July 4, 2014
Yesterday was even more fun. Toledo and I played in the snow! I'm not joking you..there is snow in July at Camp Nano! I haven't heard Toledo laugh like that in decades. Of course, then I hit her smack in the head with a snowball, so she chased me down and threw one with all my strength. She hit me square between the shoulder blades. "That stung!" I said.
"I meant it to," she said.
"Why?" I asked.
"After all these years, you have to ask?" She just grinned and walked away.
Before you know it, they were all throwing snowballs at me. Even Regan was balling them up and chucking them and every single one of the girls were laughing. "What did I do wrong?" I yelled.
And they all started yelling out silly things I didn't even remember doing. So I just started walking away, out of the range of their insults and snowballs. They don't gang up on me often, but when they do, I want no part of it. I went to the clubhouse and got myself a hot cocoa and splashed in a little of my medicine. That's good rum these days, no that I don't have to settle for hooch. I sat next to the campfire and waited for them to return from their frolic in the snow. They did soon enough. Not one of them apologized, of course, but they all came in and sat by the fire. Before long, the sun sank below the horizon and Regan started telling a ghost story. All was as it should be. I am loving Camp Nano!
The writers are working hard while we play. If you want to get a preliminary glimpse at some of the books they are writing this month, sign up for the Dream Dragon Press newsletter.