Tuesday, August 30, 2011
This can't be happening. -.-
School. Ugh, I start school tomorrow. And many of have you endured my whining and complaining that the first day of school is in fact on my birthday. Therefore, I won't get to swaps for all you Inkpoppers, I'll blog less often for all those blogspotters, and I won't be able to get to covers as much for all those...cover-wanters (?) And as you can see I am not happy about this at all. But I'm not going to tell you my sob story of why I hate this school so much, and why I don't even want to go. Ugh. Oh well. I'm just going to have to deal with it and find the time to write somewhere in-between, which will be though. For now, I am trying to get Photoshop installed onto my computer so I can make even more...awesomer covers! XD
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Beautiful Nightmare...
Who said she was afraid of the big bad wolf?
Yes, I am planning to write another re-telling of Little Red Riding Hood. As I saw the novel Red Riding Hood slump over with rotten reviews for the book and the movie, I decided to take the time to write my own version of it with my own twist. What would happen with Red was the wolf? Was if Red was a theft? What if she was caught in a love triangle? What if the grandmother died when she was ill? And why does Red wear a red cloak all the time? Ha-ha, I plan for all those questions to be answered in my upcoming short story.
Sixteen-year-old orphaned Rose ("Red") is one of the most prominent thieve in the land, and is considered a defect of society as some believe she is a changeling. But when her grandmother falls suddenly ill, she is forced to go on a journey to go and find the cure. Of course, hunter Vincent tags along with their journey -- which isn't safe since Red is a werewolf, losing all control at night. Red soon falls in love with Vincent on her pilgrimage, but not without an obstacle in the way. Peter, the one who is more than aware of Red's dark secret, leaving Rose to chose between her love-at-first-sight and the one who could save her from herself. Who will Red chose? And will Red find the cure for her grandmother before its too late? Just a bit of a nutshell of the short story (eh, the draft is pretty rough). Certainly this is a different, more dark retelling of the tale. I somewhat stretched it out longer than it needs to be with more inner depth and plot, however I retain the same themes of the original: the the consequences of love and the dangers of men (not that men are dangerous, anyways; strangers in general). I loved Little Red Riding Hood as a child thanks to movies like Hoodwinked and many other re-tellings, and I thought it's my turn to tell the story.
Paranormalcy - Book Review
Kiersten White's Paranormalcy has taken the world of a paranormal to a whole different level, with a "kick-butt" heroine in the supernatural field, unforgettable (and not to mention lighthearted) characters, and the hilarity of universal pop culture we all seem to divulge into. The story-line follows sixteen-year-old Evelyn "Evie", an orphaned girl who sought out for a family. When demonstrating her skills of the supernatural, Evie was successfully taken into the IPCA as she can see through paranormal "glamours". But when you're falling for a shape-shifter like Lend, your best friend is mermaid Lish, and your ex is a fey named Reth -- it's a bit hard to find normal. Especially when the paranormals are starting to disappear for no apparent reason. As a dark prophecy shadows over Evie's life, she will have to gain perception of who she is (supernaturally, of course) and why things like this are happening, all threatening the one thing she loves.Paranormalcy is certainly a different take on the world of supernatural. At moments, I couldn't help but splutter out a few sheepish laughs at the ridiculing of pop culture (vampires, especially).
Paranormalcy, however, falls flat with the overuse of Raquel's nuisance of italicized sighs, the undeveloped characters (especially the romantic interest), and the not so descriptive descriptions. Especially in the beginning, I found myself confound with all the things going on -- especially in the setting. I have to give White props for yanking the reader in right from the beginning: with Evie capturing a not-so-tough vamp named Steve. However, you can't help but get lost in the plot. When (*spoiler alert*) Lish dies, I didn't give a silver of sympathy for the mermaid since she made very little appearances throughout the book, especially considering the fact that she is her best friend. I just found her underdeveloped, with all the "bleeps" being tossed around like it's nothing (but now I can't help but do the same now to restrain myself from cursing). But you can't help but feel for the mermaid since she's trapped in an aquarium all the time, which is filled with pollution. The most developed, interesting character I found was Reth. Despite the fact that he's a bit stalkerish for a faerie, a little on the dark side, he seems like my type. He's probably my favorite character, and lacks in little, if any, stereotypes like Evie (who reminds me of some sort of a valley-girl in a chick-flick). Lend is so two-dimensional. Sure, he's trapped in the containment center most of the book -- but he doesn't seem that developed to me, and lacks in the emotional depth needed for a romantic interest to have.
As you can see, Paranormalcy didn't do it for me. But the humor and pop culture is enough to keep be tuned into once again for another pointless sequel, Supernaturally and the comeback of the upcoming third book in the trilogy, Endlessly.
Friday, August 19, 2011
HELP?! MY SLEEP DEPRIVED BRAIN IS IN NEED OF SUGGESTIONS!!
Oh and as regards to the image, that is how I imagined Lilly and Aiden to be when they're little. :D
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
You Inkies are awesome!
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
J.D. Montgomery's Knight's End...
Click here to read J.D. Montgomery's critically-acclaimed Knight's End on Inkpop.
Monday, August 15, 2011
Chelsea Lauren's Little Red Hearts. . .
Click here to read Chelsea Lauren's Little Red Hearts!
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Another day, another short story...
Yes, unfortunately (or fortunately?) I have began writing another short story. So, as always, I am more than willing to share an excerpt with all of you bloggers and readers. This will be posted on Inkpop, guys!! But only as Work in Progress since this is a very rough draft of it.
 “ |
Let me go!”
“Oh shut up.”
“You think I’m happy about being kidnapped? Do you think I wanted this to happen?”
“No—of course not.” My voice came out bitter, drily humorous. Honestly, I wasn’t too enthralled by my own plan, either. My endeavor of kidnapping this beauty didn’t seem to be effective, neither was it really thought out. And judging by her skepticism displayed on that pretty face of hers, this damsel was more than demanding to know what I was going to do with her. Which was understandable.
“How many girls have you kidnapped in the middle of the night, huh?” Her demeaning, nagging voice would penetrate anyone’s ears. I was guessing, judging by her underdeveloped features, she had to be sixteen at the very least. No older than that.
“Hm?” she awaited my answer, hands on her petite little hips. “Well, tell me. How many girls have you kidnapped? And give me their names.”
“Actually,” I muttered to myself. “You’re the first.”
“Oh,” my kidnappee said, flattered. She faked a sweet, but rather tense, small smile. “I’m your first victim. Surprise, surprise. Am I special, or something?”
In the darkness, I could hardly make out her appearance. Hm. Light hair—blonde, full lips, pale, and cunning blue eyes. Very, very sexy. Perfect. “Don’t worry,” I reassured her. “I don’t do murder. It’s gross. Blood, gore…who’s into that stuff anyways?” I laughed, but after a moment my chuckle began to falter into silence. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
She arched a brow, suddenly growing interest. “That’s what they all say.”
“Huh, funny, isn’t it? Do you always seem to attract mysterious men in the middle of the night?”
“No,” I replied bluntly. “You’re the first actually.”
“Good.” Scrutinizing my surroundings, I couldn’t help but notice that not only did I find the most perfect victim—but the perfect setting. Dark, deathly silent. This was nearly a mirror of a horror film in the making. Even more…delicious.
Quickly my eyes darted across the sinful wields, checking for any sign of life. Besides that nuisance of a chirping cricket, I heard nothing but the constant yammering of the beautiful girl.
I found it odd that she didn’t take off already, frightened. Strange, even. Wasn’t she the damsel in distress here? Wouldn’t she have gone to get help already? And worst of all: what if she wasn’t even afraid of me?
I blinked in surprise.
“Look, creeper, as soon as I get my hands on my cell pho—”
Then I knew why she hadn’t gotten help, why she never ran away from me in the first place. Not only was she lost, but she didn’t have a cell phone as well. Otherwise, she would’ve ran away long before I even found her. Wouldn’t she?
“You don’t have it, do you?” I asked, raising a brow. “Ha-ha, it’s alright. I never even gotten to the dirty work yet, girl. Not yet, not yet…”
Her eyes widened with fear. Suddenly, I became aware of the twinge of seductiveness which crept in my voice. That definitely wasn’t my intention here. Getting some fear from my victim would be nice, though the last thing I wanted was for her to think I was some sort of rapist.
“No, no!” I was quick to oppose my words before the girl could snarkily snap back at me. “That’s not what I meant. God, I swear I’m not going to hurt you. I mean…” I paused. “I’m not going to say anything else. Not a single word.” I didn’t want to say something I’d probably regret later on.
The girl shook her head. “Who are you? Better yet, what are you? A vampire, hm?” Oh, she’s got to be kidding me. A vampire? In contrast, we were both sickly pale and nocturnal—though I wouldn’t go on that level and say I was some living, blood-thirsty corpse. Disgusting.
“A vampire?” I rocked on the heels of my feet, casually, keeping my hands in my pockets. “Really?”
“Mm. You’re cute enough to pass for one.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere,” I sighed, apathetically. “Now, if you can please go into my car.”
She gave me a slight roll of the eyes. “Um, no. I want you to bring me home. And the last thing you want is me to scream.”
I blinked in surprise. “Is that a threat, miss?”
“No.” She inched closer towards me, breaking the distance between us. At last. The moment I have been waiting for. The moment where our gaze would meet…
“It’s a promise.”
“You think I’m afraid of some sixteen-year-old girl?” I asked, coolly. “I’ve seen worse than that. Way worse. Nothing scares me.” Not anymore.
“Sixteen?” Again, she rolled her eyes. “What makes you think I’m sixteen?” Inadvertently she shoved, sending me staggering. “I’m seventeen for Pete’s sake!” Not as if there isn’t much of a difference. I was close enough.
“Stop it!” I snapped at her. Thoughtlessly, I clasped my hand onto her wrist, firm. Still, desperate, I drawn her to closer to me—pulling the girl into my convulsive embrace. “If you’d bother to listen to me, and stop complaining… you’d know that I’m not necessarily here to kidnap you.” The girl desperately squirmed, trying to wriggle free from my grip. “You should really stop fighting it.”
Out of whimsy, my hand ran through the ends of her glorious blonde hair. Impulsively, I cupped my hand over her mouth, restraining the beauty from letting that scream she so badly wanted to let out.
“Please,” there was a trace of hysteria in my voice.
Yes, I was afraid; I was becoming hysterical for this girl to come along with me. She belonged with me. Why must she fight the truth?
The girl said something beneath my cupped hand, but her speech came out muffled, barely even perceptible.
“Hm? What did you say?”
I couldn’t risk letting her go. Not so easily, of course. Not without a price.
“Right,” I mumbled. “You said nothing at all. Now please, let me escort you to my truck. I promise—” I winked at her. “—I’ll never hurt you, love.”
The girl’s eyes spilled over with tears.
“I won’t hurt you…If you promise me one thing.” I added.
In her anxious plea, she nodded. Yes—even more perfect.
“Stay with me. Three days. Two nights. That’s all I’ll ever ask for… to fulfill our days of testimony.” Soothingly, I wiped her tear. “I could never let a pretty thing like you run away.”
Slowly, gradually I removed my hand from her mouth. Immediately, I regretted it.
“Or else?” Her voice was just as shrewd as she was minutes ago, despite the fact she was still crying.
My eyes narrowed. “Or else what?”
“Or else—what are you going to do to me if I don’t want to be with you for three days and two nights? Huh?” she asked, matter-of-fact. I didn’t like the tone she was striking here. Not at all.
“Look,” I lowered into a whisper. “I have my ways.”
“What ways—?” I clamped my hand over her mouth again, just to be sure.
“Shh,” I hissed. “Get in the car now. Someone might hear us.” Though, I doubted it. “Please. I’m begging you, here.” I held out my hand, blatantly expecting her to grab it. Tentatively, knowing that her life very well depended on it, she intertwined her fingers in mine. It felt more than good to know she had some, if any, trust in me—perhaps my charm and suave won her over.
“You can beg all you want,” she squeezed at my hand. “I just want you to take me home, and that’s that.”
“Feisty,” I snickered. “Aren’t you?”
Still hesitant, the girl opened the door to my old truck. I think she was surprised that I didn’t toss her body into the trunk.
When she didn’t bother answering me I added, “Don’t worry. I like ‘em feisty.”
She grunted in reply, jumping into the passenger seat of my Ford.
I jumped into the car as well, anxious to rev up the engine and drive. I think Coven would be more than happy that I found the girl we’ve been seeking.
As I took the fast route down the gravel parkway, I even tried to start conversation with her. Bad move. “So,” I began, not taking my eyes off the dashboard. “What’s your name?”
“What’s yours?”
“I believe I asked first, ma’am.”
“Delilah. My last name right now isn’t important. Yours?”
“Damien,” I growled.
“That’s it?”
“Yes,” I muttered, annoyed. “That’s it. For now.”
“Interesting,” Delilah wore that same fake smile of amusement from earlier. I could see through every little one of those fake joyous grins and pitiful frowns. It was more than obvious that she was afraid.
“Yes,” I mumbled. “Very.”
“How old are you?”
“What?” I snarled through my clenched teeth. What did it matter to how old I was? Not that age mattered to me, anyways. At least, not anymore. “Why do you care?”
“Funny, I told you how old I was,” Delilah scoffed. “You can’t tell me? You seem to tell everything else.”
“Twenty,” I murmured.
“What was that?”
“I’m twenty-years-old, okay? There. I’m not much older than you either.” Before she could say anything else, I held up my hand to silence her. “And before you say anything else, I’m not so thrilled about taking you in, either. The job’s fun but the pay’s not so hot.”
Her brows furrowed together. “What?”
“Nothing.”
With writing as sharp as a piece of shattered glass...
Click here to read Shattered Glass
Saturday, August 13, 2011
Beautiful Nightmare Excerpt 3#
It was a dark and stormy nightmare.
The crescendo of thunder boomed in my ears, followed by the slight rumble of diminutive thunder.
I found myself in a lifeless snowy world, and as it rained the snow came to follow—creating the perfect elixir for slushy sleet beneath my feet.
It was as if I stepped into a beautiful still-life painting, one Picasso might’ve considered mirroring if he was still alive.
And, like an idiot I was, I stood breathlessly glowering at the peak of the horizon. Waiting, almost. But for what?
“Strange,” I muttered to myself. “This is just all too…creepy.” Even for a nightmare. I must remind myself that I’m dreaming. This isn’t reality. I am not in real life. I am in my own little world. Aren’t I? Yet, here I was; standing in several feet of slush, somehow feeling everything in this dream.
It is just all too surreal, I thought bitterly to myself.
Perhaps, on some level, I was dreaming this nightmarish, dark world. There seemed to be nothing wrong with it. There were no paranormal occurrences, nothing “supernatural” about it either.
So why was I afraid? All I had to do to end this madness was pinch myself, and hopefully I’d flutter back into reality, comforted by the warmth of my blankets. Sadly, that wasn’t the case.
“Silly, little Gavin.”
The rush of feet shuffling of detritus roused my senses.
“Gavin, baby, don’t be afraid of me.”
I took into a sharp breath, blinking in surprise that whatever this thing was knew my name. Was that even possible? Then again, I am dreaming. Anything is possible.
Friday, August 12, 2011
Geeks In Love Excerpt 2#
“Why do you even hang out with him?”
I blinked in surprise. “What do you mean, Josh?”
“He’s such a dweeb,” Josh laughed. “What girl would even be caught dead with him? Oh right. Only a fat ass like you would want to go out with that.”
I began to swat my pillow at him, but my childish attempt to have my brother out of my room was pathetic. Funny, it worked when we were younger. “Oh, really? When’s the last time you ever had a girlfriend? Yeah, right. Never.”
“Actually, I have one. Sarah. Man, she’s smokin’ hot, too.” Hm. Her name seemed familiar. Wasn’t Sarah the head cheerleader? Wasn’t she the one who always had her arms linked up with Davie, who ironically enough, was the captian of the varsity football team? (Ah, the exilir for the perfect cliché romance.) Now, Josh had to be lying. Someone as sleazy, and as disgusting as my brother would never really be able to live up to the ridiculous expectations of that floozy.
“You’re lying,” I said smugly. Though my smug appraisial wasn’t nearly as devious as that little smirk spreading across Josh’s face.
“How so? How am I suddenly a liar? Are you lying about Emeril?” He raised a brow with sudden interest.
I frowned. Why would he think I’d be lying about my first boyfriend? Of course, he’d lie about having a girlfriend (which is typical of him)—but I wouldn’t. Plus, out of all the times he saw me awkwardly holding Em’s hand, shamelessly blowing him kisses, and hugging him—he had the nerve to ask me I was lying? “Why would I be lying about him? Don’t you always complain how you always see us together?”
“Um…who wouldn’t notice?”
“Notice what, booger?”
Josh grunted in reply. “Apparently, you’re not understand what I mean. I don’t think you noticed, Ella, but people stare.”
I shrugged, beginning to rock on the heels of my shoe, carelessly. “And? Think I care?”
I couldn’t help but bitterly glower at Josh, as his arm rested on my shoulder. “Look…sis, I care about you in all, but covincing yourself you like this dude is ridiculous. I don’t think you noticed how…weird you two look together.”
That made me wonder what Emeril and I looked to not only us—but other people. Maybe we were a little…different, but I wouldn’t think people would even bother gawking at the Invisible Girl and the Loner. Or did they? I’ve been so consumed in Emeril that I never even took the time to pay attention to what other people thought of me and him together. Perhaps a stout, bovine girl like myself compared to someone as gaunt and tall like Emeril made us look very different in contrast.
“B-but…” I was barely able to choke out the words.
“I’m just sayin’ sis. You’ve been dating for…five months now? It’s practically the end of the school year, basically. And you can’t convince yourself you guys are ‘geeks in love’ forever. Eventually it’s all going to have to end right?”
It all ends here.
Ahh, okay you’re probably sick of me talking about it. But guys, I’m running out of things to blog about.
If you read the book outline then you know I had an ideal of the conclusion for BN. But oh my goodness the BIG idea for the actual ending hit me like a ton of bricks! I have to post it out of my anxiousness!
For all you Death fans, Fidel is not only a skilled soul-catcher but a masterful shape-shifter. He can shift into any form he chooses, even Gavin. So what's the ideal for the ending? Fidel shape-shifts into Gavin's Aunt Mae. Therefore, he was able to go to Gavin's school and pick him up as he is Guardian (not a Guardian angel, his human-mortal caretaker ha-ha). Apparently, Aunt Mae's been kidnapped (though it's not clear at the ending what really happened to her true form, but everyone knows that Death has his ways) by the Darkness. Since Fidel gained permission to take him home, the two sit in his Aunt's Chevrolet. Fidel, subtly shape-shifts back into his true form as a demonic being (honestly, he's a bit creepy; he only turns into a human so people wouldn't think so...inferior of him as Fidel would say) and Gavin knows there's no escaping this one. Death's finally caught up with him. Alana comes into distance and bangs on the window of the car, telling her father to leave Gavin alone. Alana is in tears, and she doesn't want anything bad to happen to him. Because she knows Fidel will hurt him. Or worse, kill him. Gavin, thanks to the dark magic of Fidel, takes away his ability to speak so he wouldn't scream. Alana, in tears, promises she'd do anything to stop this. Anything. Fidel gladly obliges. Of course, everything with Death there's a catch. So what does he want in return for sparing this boy's life? Alana's soul!
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Beautiful Nightmare... The Trailer?
I believe you heard me correct. The trailer! See it above.
Thank you alli_cat for the amazing for my upcoming book, BEAUTIFUL NIGHTMARE.
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
BA's New Look!
Geeks In Love
Short pitch: Your first date is something you'd want to remember. Their blunder of a first date is probably better off left forgotten.
Long pitch (draft): In a first date filled with untimely embraces, awkward silences, accidental blunders, and mortifying discussions—all Jane really wanted that night was to get her first kiss. But instead she gets an unforgettable evening of utter humiliation.
* * *
From the moment Emeril and Jane laid eyes on each other they knew they were meant to be. Jane had been a pudgy, stout shamelessly nerdy sixteen-year-old girl. Emeril was considered a “dolt”, and was never the brightest of fellows; yet this techie manages to maintain straight A’s. Budding a romantic relationship, the last thing Jane wanted was to have her heart broken; suddenly growing wary of the consequences of falling in love. So what happens when you take a shy geeky girl and an unconventional dolt and put them together in a fancy restaurant? The perfect elixir for a two-bit, and not to mention corruptive first date.
EXCERPT:
I’ve been waiting far, far too long to asked on a date by Emeril. Sure, we’ve been going out for five months—but does that matter anymore? Because all of our encounters just consisted of a few quick pecks on the cheek, a hug, an awkward silence, and an untimely departure. I’m afraid I’m going nowhere with this boy, whose apparently too blind to see I wanted something different for a change.
I mean, I thought falling in love would be different. At least on television they make love seem so easy. Sure, the guy might break the girl’s heart (sometimes vise versa), the guy wants her back after realizing she’s “the one” (whatever that’s supposed to mean), the broken hearts mends, and the couple always get back together in the end to live “happily-ever-after”. What a load of clichéd crap.
Then again, I was sixteen. Falling in love was considered the “teenage dream”. Hey, what girl wouldn’t want to be given free compliments and two-bit dinners from a guy you hardly even know? Not to mention, all that endearing affection you’d get from him. Unlucky for me, Emeril was never that type of guy.
For high school, like any other girl, I had only two things in mind: my first kiss and prom. As embarrassing as this was, I never had my first kiss. A boyfriend especially. And if that wasn’t enough, I was always reminded of the fact that I was single thanks to those happy-go-lucky couples striding hand-in-hand through the hallways. And the mere thought of that girl—who could very well be me interlacing my fingers in his—made me gag. Sure, you promise you’ll have his heart forever—but how long does forever even last in high school? Four years at the very least. And in a blink of an eye you’re departing for college. Then what? Forever seemed to be nothing more than a sprinkled deception of the true meaning behind the word: temporary. Keeping that in mind through my high school years, I promised myself I’d never—never—let a boy have a key to my heart. Never.
Emeril and I, before we started dating, were on speaking terms. I guess, in a sense, you could say we were…friends, even. Outcasts attract to other outcasts, it seemed. And he was kinda cute I have to admit. So, maybe he was a little too tall for my taste. Mm, maybe a little…too skinny as well. And not to mention, geeky. Though, I can’t really complain, since on some level I was considered “geeky” as well.
But the last thing I wanted was to be his…girlfriend. The thought of it even made me shiver. Just because he was my partner in science third period, didn’t give him the right to ask me out. Period. But me being me, I said yes to him anyways. I guess I was just that kind of girl.
Inkpoppers! LET'S START A MOVEMENT!
Yes. I am starting a society/movement on Inkpop.
flyingword's Spirited Heart has been deleted for the THIRD time and lost all of its picks after making it to the top five for poetry not once but TWICE. Avonlea's poem LIFE was deleted again, as well! ARE YOU KIDDING INKPOP?! So this action inspired me to the start Inkpop's Freedom of Speech Movement. We need to stop these anonymous deletions. It's not cool. At all. Inkpoppers should have the entitlement to read what they want to read, and if you find that offensive then why bother reading it? Seriously. JOIN THE MOVEMENT INKIES! Become a member and have a logo to express your pride!!!! JOIN THE PETITION TO GET SPIRITED HEART AND LIFE BACK ON INKPOP!!!! GIVE THESE INKPOPPERS ENCOURAGEMENT!!!!!! JOIN NOWWWWWWW!!!!!!
Click here to direct to Inkpop's freedom of speech movement. Now.
flyingword's Spirited Heart has been deleted for the THIRD time and lost all of its picks after making it to the top five for poetry not once but TWICE. Avonlea's poem LIFE was deleted again, as well! ARE YOU KIDDING INKPOP?! So this action inspired me to the start Inkpop's Freedom of Speech Movement. We need to stop these anonymous deletions. It's not cool. At all. Inkpoppers should have the entitlement to read what they want to read, and if you find that offensive then why bother reading it? Seriously. JOIN THE MOVEMENT INKIES! Become a member and have a logo to express your pride!!!! JOIN THE PETITION TO GET SPIRITED HEART AND LIFE BACK ON INKPOP!!!! GIVE THESE INKPOPPERS ENCOURAGEMENT!!!!!! JOIN NOWWWWWWW!!!!!!
Click here to direct to Inkpop's freedom of speech movement. Now.
Sunday, August 7, 2011
Beautiful Nightmare: Excerpt 2#
“Dude,” I lowered my voice into a whisper. “You saw her too?”
Sam’s brows knitted together, confused. “Saw…who, exactly?”
I ran a hand through my hair, absolutely baffled. Perhaps, I wasn’t the insane one this time. Maybe they were all pretending she didn’t exist, just to make a mockery of me. But it seemed unlikely. I would think when a new upper-class student enters our small-town high school; they would automatically become exploited by the jocks, the nerds, and all those other ridiculous social groups known to man in grade school. Yet, not a single word was spoken about her, not even a murmur or a rumor. And judging by Sam’s bewildered expression—just as confused as I—he didn’t quite know what I was talking about either.
“I saw her. There’s a new girl here…I think her name might be Alana.” I happily sighed. “She’s pretty hot, I have to admit,” I added. “Maybe a tad on the creepy side, but hot.”
“She’s probably a freshmen, idiot,” Sam said between chomps and chews of his ham sandwich. “There’s like, a few hundred of them downstairs.”
I shake my head. “Ugh, not freshmen girls. The Alana I’m talking about is a senior.” I paused, whirling my plastic fork in my not-so mashed potatoes.
“Wait, what do you mean Alana? Dude, there’s no girl here named—” The hysteria which crept in his wavering voice made me grow suspicious. “—Alana. I—I think you may have your names mixed up…or something.” Sam, uncomfortably, began to shift in his seat.
I let my fork sink into a sea of potatoes. “What do you mean…‘you don’t know what I’m talking about’?” I heaved out a heavy sigh, not so much out of happiness, but out of resent. “I think you know what I’m talking about,” I said in a matter-a-fact tone. “Maybe more than I do.”
Sam grimaced, rubbing at the nape of his neck, exhaustedly. He too, let out a sigh. Out of anger, I bet. I watched as his eyes ceaselessly wandered throughout the cafeteria, landing on everything and everyone but me. It was more than clear that he wanted to avoid the matter-at-hand, but this wasn’t something I would take lightly. Especially considering the fact that this was the same girl I encountered in the forest weeks—maybe days, but it felt like that long—ago. The same elusive girl who promised me a painless, forgettable death. Alana.
“Wait, man, I have no idea! Honest.” As if I couldn’t see that sly little smirk spreading across his face.
“Dude,” I placed a stiff hand on his shoulder. “You are such a bad liar. Now tell me what you know about Alana Engel. Now.”
He closed his eyes, and overlooking his face I realized that playful smile faded into a deepening scowl.
In the shift of light of the cafeteria’s brightly-lit skylight, I noticed something different about Sam’s eyes as well. Yes, they were those same green eyes with those little flecks of brown— but they now seemed different, in the lustering brightness. Frightening almost, reminding of the illuminating crazy-colored eyes of a vampire. They were brighter, yet bolder, as if a thick film of transparent was now layering over it. It was strange, even; though I remained to be silent, the last thing I wanted to do was upset him.
Sam titled his head, curiously. He was trying to remember something, anything. Hoping for the memories of this girl to jump out at him, in surprise. Though, as hard as he tried to remember her, his mind seemed to draw a blank. “I can’t remember,” he snarled. “I can’t remember anything at all. Now can we talk about something else please, Gavin? I don’t really want to talk about it anymore.”
I nodded, understanding. “Yeah, whatever, Sam.” Though he thought he made it oblivious, it was more than clear that he was sensitive at the subject of Alana. Perhaps he knew more than I ever known about her wicked nature. Perhaps there were…secrets, ones I wanted to learn. Secrets, in which I needed to know about this elusive girl.
Sam said, “Just stay away from her.” He didn’t bother to give me a second glance, not even prying to see my dubious expression. “I don’t want you getting hurt.” And, without even bothering to take his lunch along with him, Sam had gotten up from his seat and left.
Broken Hearts = Sad, but very beautiful music.
I'm on Inkpop...
I'm sitting alone,And then...I struck a proper tone?
Okay, now you see why I don't write poetry. At all. Because I am an awful poet. But I don't mind reading, though.
Since I haven't had any poetry to promote, I think I'll promote poetry of my choosing. At least for now. I couldn't leave this poet unnoticed, especially not Anthony (How Bout Now?).
:( Broken hearts = sad, but beautiful music. Anthony's a guitar player, and a piano-player, and he writes the most lovely songs. His poem went from the 400s to the 70s in two days -- which is amazing. And considering the fact that he only had it posted for three days...is amazing-er! I'm no good at writing poetry reviews, but you can see I'm trying though. But what I'm basically trying to say: is pick this poem. It is worth the August pick! And who knows? When this Inkpopper is a big star someday, he can say he got his start and motivation from Inkpoppers like us. <3 This Inkie deserves the limelight. XOXO
:( Broken hearts = sad, but beautiful music. Anthony's a guitar player, and a piano-player, and he writes the most lovely songs. His poem went from the 400s to the 70s in two days -- which is amazing. And considering the fact that he only had it posted for three days...is amazing-er! I'm no good at writing poetry reviews, but you can see I'm trying though. But what I'm basically trying to say: is pick this poem. It is worth the August pick! And who knows? When this Inkpopper is a big star someday, he can say he got his start and motivation from Inkpoppers like us. <3 This Inkie deserves the limelight. XOXO
So I finished Tara Hudson's Hereafter yesterday...
After having that live chat with Tara Hudson nearly a month ago on Inkpop, I knew I had to read it. Romance, paranormal... It's what's totally "in" in the YA genre, right? Somehow in the live chat she managed to capture my interest, and I can't say that Hereafter's concept didn't sound interesting enough. And after winning 2 writing challenges in a row, Hereafter just so happened to be one of the books I chose, and divulged into first before anything else.
Really, it's a poignant tale of ghostly love -- but all in all, the story falls flat and manages to keep Twi-ward standard characters and corny "love-at-first-sight" notions in the MC's. And, not to mention it's filled with plot-holes. Somehow the main character, Amelia manages to bleed, get cuts, even cry...when she's a ghost? That's different. And the romantic interest Joshua kisses her in public, when no one else can see her...and I bet that makes him look, you know, a bit crazy? And the characters -- all of them -- seem flawless, and stereotypical...2D, I hate to say. There isn't so much of emotion in the writing, but the actions is probably what motivate the plot the most. Perhaps at some moments the writing is a bit...purpled with adjectives, and you lose sight of the writing's purpose in the sea of uncertainty.
Tara Hudson is an obviously amazing writing here, but somehow she disappoints in what was supposed to be her "big debut". However, this is just one's opinion. Somehow Hudson manages to keep the reader focused to the very end. Yet, in some areas that were supposed to "turn the tables" were likely expected. At least, I could see the ghostly cliches in the writing. Maybe I'm a seer as well. I suppose this can be an exciting read for jeered vampire fans who need a refresher from the paranormal vamps, but all in all, the writing manages to fall flat.
Saturday, August 6, 2011
enchantedANGEL's The Magic in the Tapestry...
Beautiful Nightmare: Excerpt
An exclusive excerpt of BEAUTIFUL NIGHTMARE, which I don't even have on Inkpop yet. Enjoy. :)
“Hi…Gavin.” The girl said my name, but with a slight lip curl in disgust.
It wasn’t so much her strange knowledge of my name which frightened me. It was her eyes. Even in the diming light of dusk, those cunningly yellow-green slits continued to resonate—creating an unmistakable, bright light in the darkness.
I would think I would’ve notice someone so…outlandish at our small-town high school before.
“Ah, my lovely, lovely, lovely Gavin,” she began sang. “I missed you, baby.”
I furrowed my brows, confused. “I-I’ve n-never met someone like you in my life,” I sputtered.
The girl’s scorn turned into a sweet, but rather tense, small smile. “Oh, you have Gavin. You may have been too little to remember.” She paused, in order to take in a sharp breath. Perhaps I had made my skepticism just that obvious, since the girl was more than willing to formally introduce herself. “I’m…Alana. Alana-Marie Engel.”
“Alana…” I tested the name on my tongue. It suited her cunning, cat-like features well. Maybe, too well.
“Yes,” Alana gave me a slight roll of the eyes. “Alana. And I’ve been waiting far, far too long for this moment for you stammer like a love-struck monster.”
My eyes fluttered into reality at the words. Perhaps I didn’t hear her clearly. Monster. That word was nothing more than a reminder of what I am, and what I’ve become…
“I—I’m sorry, jeez,” I retorted her notion of rolling the eyes. “I don’t know who the hell you are, or what the hell you are—cat woman, maybe—but I just seriously need to get home right now!”
Alana laughed; a shrill, maniacal laugh that would probably send shivers down anyone’s spine. “You can’t.”
The twinge of pain began to emerge in my wrists again, but a million times worse. Almost like thousands of needles pricking at my already burning flesh. I clasped my hand with my arm, hoping it would sooth the pain if only for a moment. Still, I remained tight-lipped to restrain myself from letting out a blood-curling scream. And in the midst of all this pain surging throughout my body, Alana was chortling with pleasure.
“You see,” she began, “I can’t let you go home. Not without giving you an offer, of course.”
I grunted in reply.
“An offer even you can’t pass up.” She inched towards me, finally breaking the distance between us until we were only inches apart. “I’ve come to do my job, Gavin. And job’s always come with pay. I’m simply here to gather my compensation.”
Alana, playfully, wrapped her arms around the nape of my neck, drawing me into her convulsive embrace. “I need you Gavin. You don’t know me, but I want to be with you. Give me a chance so we can finally be together, and you can see why we’re fated.”
“Fated…” I was barely able to choke out the words.
“Yes,” Alana hissed. “Fated. And I’m here to offer you one thing and one thing only.”
“…Like what?” I spat.
Anything to get me out of this pain.
“Hm. Something like…death.”
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