Interest piqued, Talander listened carefully to the answers given around the room by the host of minor and major wizards. While the spell Albain needed was remarkably similar to his own current work, Talander had yet to add an opinion. Morhan frowned considering the polled results. Not one answer heard made young King Shalain’s relationship with a dragon woman plausible.

For more of the weekend warriors —- A link to http://wewriwa.com/

So many of my friends seem to be more productive bloggers. I’m here catch as can—-whenever I’m awake between TBR lists and rewrites and edits and new works… Yeah, life can be busy, even for someone like me. Blogging was not something I had in mind when I started writing. It was a new adventure, a new world.

Now I have come to enjoy it, but at the on set it was difficult. I still have much to master–this is just a personal commentary. I had fully intended to have a book review blog or one that revealed my attitudes and thoughts on writing and literature, but those have been at least delayed.

What I have found–and what I have treasured–is a community of wonderful bloggers all with very different styles and ideas just waiting for me to read and enjoy! Some have even responded to my follows in kind, though perhaps I have less to offer through my infrequency.

I’d like to take a moment to thank you all–for your writing and your time!
Without you I might have given up on this effort.

This is the continuing fantasy story that began with Dreamer. I am pleased to say that I am actually enjoying the rewrite. That fact is indeed unusual for me. I generally hate to edit. The story has rekindled my interest in the series and I am considering a 5th fantasy book surrounding the life of the villain.

That said, I really do need to get more published and into your hands. Blogging is a fatal distraction, but so much fun that it’s irresistibly addictive. Hopefully, I will have the next installment of “To Reach You” ready soon and I will not neglect this publication.

Mirandra careened blindly through the city streets distracted by bitter tears that froze on her cheeks, running into empty vending carts and ice covered water barrels abandoned in the snow. There was nowhere to turn, yet Mirandra could not stop. The city gates flew past her as she continued wildly into the falling darkness of the snowy night. She did not see the white encrusted trees, hear the wolves’ calls, or feel the growing ice that hindered her survival. She was already numb and did not sense the cold closing in around her. Mirandra ran until she could no longer make her feet move. As her strides came slower, and her breath threatened to make her chest explode, Mirandra collided with what had seemed at first like nothing more than a mist on the road. She was beyond understanding what clung to her limbs, but it was warm and dark —-taking the form of a man at her touch. She no longer cared who held her, collapsing into the waiting arms, yielding to the sweet caress of unconsciousness.

When he closed the door, Xavier realized that he was not alone. There at his computer, wearing only a shirt and captain’s hat, was Maribeth Gregor. She smiled and stood as he entered, revealing her lusciously long legs. Captain Gregor was without doubt the sexiest commissioned officer on any sea going vessel.

“Xavier,” The Captain smiled at him, “I knew you’d come running.” He found her laugh embarrassing. “You really should see your face. Happy Birthday, Hun.” Maribeth leaned over a little too far blowing Xavier a kiss. She handed him the print of the candid picture that his own web cam provided. “You don’t want me to tell your Uncle about this, do you?”

For more of the weekend warriors —- A link to http://wewriwa.com/

For more sneak peeks — A link to peeking http://sneak-peek-sunday.blogspot.com/

Did you ever feel like you were drifting?
The things surrounding your very purpose coming unhinged, unreal?

I find myself floating, leaving the ground, untethered…and at risk.

Vulnerability runs rampant.

A tidal wave of fear crushes the spirit and assails the mind.

Is it a dream? Or the realization that passions can lead one into believing too much in the power of honor and dignity?

I begin to question my very sanity.

Corruption is everywhere. I bow my head to perfection and know it can never be attained.

So much that I’d like to say about writing….
I know that you have heard most of it before. I know you have touched your muse, felt the sky tremble and heard the stars whisper…as have we all.
There is nothing new to say, that you haven’t heard or felt for yourself.
If I were truly inspired, I would be pounding furiously at my keyboard trying to put into words what I have seen with my heart.