“Sixty [unsent]”

The chain jingles softly, leaving its mark around her ankle
Darkens her skin’s hue; Logic matters little
When she’s enclosed in four walls on her lonesome –
She’s lost some particulars but his voice comes out
From some sealed crevice, flinging her backward in time.
She has the means to sever the hold, they say,
But when she grips the blade to cut herself free,
The will is lost in a tide of Regret and Curiosity.

There is Knowledge that she possesses,
That he is not on the other side of their physical divide
Languishing in Longing and thinking of her,
Or waiting for the moment to reveal himself again;
She promised herself the Oblivion – so much better
To pass the seconds and not observe with a keen eye
The Minutiae of him forging ahead. And yet she travels
A path along that dangerous two-lettered word.

For one day, her heart takes a pilgrimage, wandering
Astray, airing out memories like abandoned suites;
She can hardly explain this phenomenon, this rendering
Of an ordinary person into a preternatural shape
That refuses to fade. And when they must return,
The dimmed images of love past, to their corners
She tells herself, Never again – a promise she will
Inevitably break; memory won’t allow her to forget.

In the dark she wonders if the other is the lucky one –
Or perhaps there is something better coming –
Wondering if she can relax her fingers and finally let go.

Poetry Corner – “Four [In the Deep]”

Fear Not Productions

Once upon a time, a young woman and a young man met beneath a sky of moving stars–

Pfft…I don’t want to begin that way. I’d rather be simple and direct.

On February 14, 2012,  I awoke at 4 a.m. not able to sleep. It was Valentine’s Day; I had the itch to write something for my beloved (at the time). It was only the second time I had showed him something I had written, and I was scared that it was too saccharine, too long, too whatever. I worked all day and tried to put it out of my mind. When I had built up the nerve to check my messages, I learned that my fear was unfounded. I was a better writer than I thought.

It’s a little hard to post this. The memories are bittersweet and it makes me feel a little vulnerable. But that’s what time is…

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Random Musings I: Reasons Why I Would Love to Be Daniella Thomas for a Day

The Fall Girl

Image Daniella Van Graas: A real Danie, just not mine. But if a Midnight Moon movie ever happens (yeah, right), I know who’s gonna be playing The Firestarter… 😉

So. I have problems with assertiveness. I linger in doorways waiting to be noticed, remain silent until it’s my turn to speak. I languish in my room wishing for excitement. I fidget awkwardly at parties where I only know one or two people. Gosh, I’m boring, aren’t I?

Living vicariously through characters provides me with an outlet for some of my inner frustrations about my own personality. However, don’t you think it would be more fun just to embody a creation for a day? To be a markedly different person? To don a mask and step into someone else’s shoes?

The first on my list would be Daniella Elizabeth Thomas.

Why Danie?

I created Daniella (at first named Dana) out of the…

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The Woman in the Fire – “Avery” Part I

Fear Not Productions

As a writer, I go through phases during which one character is more appealing to me than another. At the moment, Danie holds a particular fascination for. She is one of my original characters and has changed form since I created her in 1994. (Can you blame me? I was only nine years old!) I posted about her on The Fall Girl a couple of months ago, listing reasons why I would love to be her for a day.

The Woman in the Fire is my chance to tell Danie’s story and to strengthen my writing–as is any opportunity.  I hope you all like her. She is going to be bullheaded, rash, witty, insolent, and beautifully bitchy.



The only thing she remembered after the Incident was waking up in a stinking alley amid jagged soup cans and her own blood seeping from a head wound.

It had been…

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The Payback List – I: Della

Fear Not Productions

In late 2010, I had the unfortunate experience of dating a young man…well, I won’t start of the explanation that way because honestly,  that part is no divertido! I started this story as sort of payback in my own nerdy girl manner, hoping it would spread among avid readers who would recognize and sneer at his inappropriate cockiness…but I ended up liking the character development more. Each of the five female protagonists will have a chance at telling the story. At the moment, speaking in Della’s voice is rather cathartic; she is another flavor of Inner Bitch that sort of reminds me of my brother, and his candor, while brutal at times, can be entertaining.

I can’t wait to finish “Man Candy” inspired by Mr. Adam Martin. It’s cheeky fun. 😉




Our tale of heartbreak and vengeance begins in the house of flying noodles.


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Sunday Snippet – The Gifted, Kane-sama and Sydney

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Back in the day, I started this story called The Gifted. It had begun as a Fearless fan fiction story (and by the way, I wouldn’t be able to imagine Blake Lively as Gaia Moore, just sayin), but then my interest waned. Once I formed an interest in the show Alias, I had reimagined the story including characters from that series. I wrote a few chapters before I realized that I wanted to make this into a novel with my original characters.

This scene is interesting because it introduces Irina Derevko as being alive–and with a connection to Kane, no doubt.


She found him sitting on a rock and facing the setting sun as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world—or a train wreck he couldn’t tear his eyes from. His black hair was unbound this time, giving him a slight vulnerability amid his inherent strength…

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Poetry Corner – “Declaration”

Fear Not Productions

2011 continues to boggle my mind in hindsight. I started out the year searching, discovered and lost, and ended the year figuring I would be searching forever. It was not a welcome realization–until I realized that wonderful things come upon us in time. Even at your lowest, something kindles inside of your heart and soul to keep that fire going. If I can leave you with any thought…



In the still of the winter-night cold
I yearn for someone to hold
But I will not settle
In the bustle of life surrounding
Hand in hand everyone’s bounding
But I will not settle
Private memories break free
Like blood from a love wound, slyly
But I will not settle
Possibility muddies the rationale
And foes desire to be pals;
All the while, life goes blithely on
There’s more in store than is shown–
And somehow you think I’ll settle?

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Poetry Corner – “Anne Boleyn”

Fear Not Productions

Ah, my friends–gather ’round. It is time for the tale of a tragic queen.

The first mention of the second wife of the infamous King Henry VIII came from the movie Steel Magnolias when I was a child; Olympia Dukakis and Shirley MacLaine were talking about this person named Anne Boleyn–with six fingers on one hand! What? Bemusement reigned. But the image of deformity persisted.

I took a colloquium on Queen Elizabeth I (if you really wanna get me going on the subject, ask me if I think she died a virgin or not) during my senior year of college; The Tudors began its run on Showtime, and we perused it (privately, as it was extremely provocative–but hey, I discovered Henry Cavill) as part of our study. And thus Anne Boleyn surfaced again. As I learned more of her history, another image began to emerge–one of a woman who wanted…

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Midnight Moon – “The Marking”

Fear Not Productions

“The Marking”

She was angry.

Anger persisted as a side effect of her ability to control fire; the emotion rolled through her like molten lava, threatening to spew through her pores at any given moment. The mind, Aurora would always say, controlled the body, therefore the mind should always be strong. (Of course, Angelia would not always agree, being more agile than mentally controlled.)

But the soul, Felice interjected softly, superseded them all.

Her soul toiled with restlessness and fury. Perhaps that was why, when she picked up the bo, even though her mind and body had transcended to a space of peaceful tranquility, her fingertips darkened the mahogany wood.

“You can refuse you know,” he told her, back straight, the grip on his own bo firm but casually dangerous.

A muscle twitched in her thigh–the only movement of her body. Her soul, on the other hand, smoldered with contempt.


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Poetry Corner – “Living in Your Head”

Fear Not Productions

“Living in Your Head”

Chillin on Sunday with shades drawn
World turns but you’re hiding out
Saturday’s whirly mirth is gone
In worship of self you’re the most devout
No visitor is quite worthy
Reaching out will break the spell

Do you bump into yourself everywhere or do you let someone in?
When you’re living in your head, do you remember where you’ve been?

Paranoia missed you at the bar
Holding ya seat, asking, “How ya been?”
He swipes the keys to the car
Steering like you’re old friends
But he imbibed too long
Didn’t notice the obstacle

Do you  try to ignore but  the deduction is too adamant?
When you’re living in your head, who gets blamed for the accident?

Holed up  in your armored fortress
Peeking through the Lego block
All attempts will fail the test
When you leave  the entrance locked
Participation will be thin
If we’re…

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