Monday, November 25, 2013

Harpers Ferry - Day 3

Obviously, if you've been following the whole Harpers Ferry trip thing, you'll realize that I've been back for some time. We spent far too much time away from the hotel on our trip that when we would get back in the evenings I was too tired/busy plotting my next move to keep the posts updated, and when I got back home I was immediately vortexed back into the swing of work and my niece's teenaged dramatics. We've also been renovating, and painting, sanding, etc etc etc is a time thief - albeit a productive one.

Day three:

The plan was to explore Lower Town, and explore we did.

Saint Peter's Church:

This is the view from the street below. The steps are actually from the 1800's! (There's signage to prove it!)

That's my roomies butt, which you may disregard. She does not follow instructions well, and didn't use the handrail. Her jacket is seriously awesome, though...

I'm not sure why my finger is in this shot. I was using an iPad as a camera and there's no excuse for stray phalanges... Despite the finger, this shot does a better job at showing the stairway than the butt photo...

Those stairs seemed never ending and I used them as an excuse to not feel guilt about missing a couple days at the gym. 

Almost there!

You can't see him to around the corner is I suppose what they call a period actor - he was dressed in 1800-era attire. I didn't snap a pic because he was chatting with some people and I wasn't prepared to interrupt. I'm not rude like that. And I don't talk to people anyway. He was dressed like this though:

Minus the voting signs and the beard... (This is a photo of a postcard that I picked up in the visitor center).

And we're there! Unfortunately, the church was closed. It was a Saturday. We were thinking about attending the Sunday service but didn't for a few reasons.

1. Roomie is Jewish, and while she was up for anything on the trip the look on her face when I suggested attending a Roman Catholic Sunday service was equivalent to the look she gets when her daughter starts to talk about One Direction. Or opens her mouth at all. Yeah, she was pretty horrified with the idea.

2. While I born into a Roman Catholic family and was baptized and confirmed, I haven't been into a Catholic Church since 2003 when my son was baptized. I'm awesome like that. I was probably more horrified at the suggestion than she was. And I was the one who made it.

But anyway.

The view:

Spectacular view. 

The church was started in 1830 and finished in 1833, consecrated on May 5th 1833. It was reconstructed in 1896.

During the Civil War the town of Harpers Ferry changed control fourteen times, and this church was the only one that was not extremely damaged with the devastation that both sides wreaked on the town. Apparently Father Costello, the Priest, flew the Union Jack in an effort to prevent the Confederates from levelling it with artillery.

Train coming out of the mountain!

There's a ghost tour that starts at the church - highly recommend. According to residents around Charles Town, Harpers Ferry is the most haunted area in all of West Virginia. I'm not sure if this is true or not, but there was one really creepy incident back at the hotel that I'm saving for a later post...

So yeah. If you're in the area and you see this sign, make it a point to go. Very awesome. You'll hear all sorts of neat and creeptastic things. Like the disappearing priest. And the baby who was killed by a mortar shell. Both of these stories are associated with the church.


Instead of taking the stairs back down - wouldn't have been as strenuous but there is that tiny gravity thing and roomie and I are unbalanced on good days - we looped around and walked past root cellars and stairs built into the walls. 

Plaque erected for John Brown and his raiders (1859).

And the memorial for the United States Marine killed at Harpers Ferry during the raid:

This is actually down by the train station, but who's really keeping track.

Roomie and I stopped in to most of the shops just to take a peak, then meandered down to the point for the breathtaking view of where the Potomac and Shenandoah rivers meet.

The Shenandoah on the right.

The Potomac on the left. There was a train going by when I snapped this and you can see the reflection on the water. We walked across the footbridge as well, but I was far too panicky to take a lot of photos and spent most of the time looking down to make sure my feet were on something stable-ish. 

The point where both rivers meet

Another of the Shenandoah.

This is off the bridge that goes across the Potomac River. It's one of two shots I took, the second being at the end, right as I realized that I still had to cross back over. Heart in throat. I so hate heights, but I did it!

Last photo on the bridge, lol. The entrance to the train tunnel that goes into the mountain.

St. Peter's Church from below. 


John at the visitors center sent us to check out Bolivar Heights and Camp Hill, and he recommended that we see Antietam before we left. It was getting late in the afternoon by this time so we headed to Camp Hill - specifically Storer College. We were going to check out Bolivar Heights (the trenches are still there!) but ran out of time. The problem with going so late in the year is that the days are short and it started getting dark just after five. Camp Hill was a Union camp back in the day. Obviously a lot has changed in 151 years. The photos we took are on the camera and I'm not sure where that is at the moment (still haven't fully unpacked!). 

Day three ended after a ghost tour and a trip in to Charles Town.

If you're ever in Charles Town, by the way, this store is haunted! According to employees, the strip plaza is built on what used to be farm land, and the family burial plot was dug up. One of the women we spoke to said that she was working late and suddenly felt the right side of her face heat up. A man demanded to know what she was doing there. She says they have also heard a young woman, an older woman, and a baby calling for mama...


St. Peter's church circa September-October 1862 during the Battle of Antietam.

Thanks for reading!


Sunday, November 10, 2013

Harpers Ferry - Day 2

I'm late on my post. A day late but better late than never, I suppose. Frankly I was too tired to write/post/brain last night. Until I went to bed, of course. Then I just tossed and turned and laughed and laughed until roughly two in the morning. Ridiculous, I tell you. But anyway.

We left Frederick, Maryland, yesterday morning around nine, after MAKING OUR OWN FRESH WAFFLES! (So delicious, in case my all caps wasn't indicative of this fact.)

In about half an hour we had been in three states. That was pretty stellar. It happened so fast I didn't even get a chance to take a picture of the "Welcome to Virginia" sign by the Exxon station. Hell, I don't even know if that's what the sign says. It could say "Get the hell outta Virginia", for all I saw.

Hotel check-in was at three. Not ones to waste time on vacation (although we will proudly do this in every other situation), we went to the park.

The visitors center at the park entrance was our first stop and is also where we met John - a seventy-five year old park ranger who struck up a forty minute long conversation with us because he noticed the poppies we wear on our jackets for Canada's Remembrance Day. His granddad was a WWI vet and he remembers a time when poppies were worn in the US for Armistice Day.

We chatted with John and heard some awesome stories. He gave us the skinny on the war of 1812, the civil war, Harpers Ferry, Gettysburg, Antietam and the current push by the FDA to ban transfats. I swear this man must consume history books for breakfast - so much knowledge! We then hopped on the shuttle down to the Lower Town.

Let me be perfectly honest. I came out here with zero expectations about Harpers Ferry. In fact, the only expectation that I had was that the weather would be warmer because we were in the south. Yeah. That was a fail. Shot down. Immediately. Crash and burn, baby.

Keep in mind that this is my first ever visit to a civil war battlefield when I say that Harpers Ferry blew my mind. Blew. My. Mind. 

Buh bye mind. Bye.

We walked through the ruins along Hamilton Street, came up Market Street, strolled behind an 1800's version of a strip mall (haha) and came face to face with John Browns fort.

A covered wagon marked "US" was sitting out front of it. A fricken covered wagon, laddies!

And poof! There goes the mind. Again.

For some reason we didn't get in a lot of "sightseeing" in the three-ish hours that we were there. We chatted with rangers and volunteers. I made a bunch of lame jokes. We answered a lot of questions about our crack smoking mayor in Toronto. Everyone really loves our Niagara Falls. Etc, etc. Poppies are great conversational pieces, apparently, lol. We did see a short film called "A Place in Time".

About that.

There are these markings on the wall in the building showing water levels from floods that have dealt devastating blows to the town. Example: the record flood of 1936 had thirty six and a half feet of water in Lower Town. Again, the mind... It was crazy.

We left around one-ish, went into Bolivar and had lunch. Managed to check into the hotel thirty minutes early and promptly took a nap. Went to Charles Town that evening to get some supplies from the Walmart. 

On our return I sat at the table and poured over all the information that the park volunteers had given us. Call it my homework. Because honestly I came here with very little knowledge of the civil war. All I really knew about Harpers Ferry was that it was a confederate victory led by Lee and Jackson. Lame right. I'm Canadian. My public school system in suburbia didn't cover American history in the curriculum. I felt much more intelligent after a series of google searches and the provided literature. Yeah, this was something I should have done before leaving. But what the hell. All is not lost. I hope.

Clearly I was also drinking Ultra Light Cider. Lovely, crisp and not sold in my neck of the woods.

Funny story about last night.

I went to the car to get the charger out of the glovebox that I had stuffed in there after realizing that having it out served no purpose. The car was parked in front of a window with the curtains partially open - exactly the way I had left them. The lights were dim. Roomie was half asleep when I left her. Who got the brainiac idea to creep up to the window and smack on it to scare the hell outta her? This girl, right here.

So I'm slowly and quietly sneaking up to the window, grinning the way a peeping Tom presumably would, and just as I'm about to jump at the window it dawns on me. Our room does not overlook the parking lot. 

What a fail.

Thankfully I managed to realize this before I was arrested for being a creeper. That would have been not so awesomely fantastic.

I blame the cider.

More to come, unless I'm in jail. 

Cheers, laddies,


Thursday, November 7, 2013

Harpers Ferry - Day 1

A few months ago the bestie and I decided that we were gonna go on a road trip to Harpers Ferry. I'm a total nerd, so I naturally badgered her into this location. 

Anyway, after months and weeks and a plethora of sweat, blood and tears, we finally left this morning to a chorus of angels singing. I know what you're thinking. Yeah, right, Keeley. A chorus of angels? B.s. Think what you will. I heard it, and that's all that matters.

So in the midst of NaNo - which I of course ended up signing up for - we are on day one of six of Operation: Geek Vacation. 

We headed out of Toronto at 10 am, waited at the Peace Bridge for Border Security to open our luggage and rifle through our panties - very awesome, I might add, made even MORE awesome by the fact that the officer was a dude... He was kind enough to leave our bags wide open with clothing unfolded and hanging out. Thankfully my wardrobe is far cooler than my besties so we can not possibly get our undies mixed up.

Who am I kidding? I waited until the last possible minute - read: 9:24 this morning - to stuff all my crap into my gym bag, so there was no way anything was actually folded to begin with...

But I digress.

Driving was good. Just made it to Frederick, Maryland, where we have stopped for the night. We have some time to kill before our hotel check in tomorrow so we are debating on going to Gettysburg. As mentioned above, I'm a total nerd, so it's more like I am saying, yo, dude, let's go to Gettysburg and she is saying: shut the hell up about the American Civil War, Keeley, or I'll run your ass over in my rental... 

Stay tuned to find out where we end up, and if I'm walking back to Canada :)


Look! A Tim Hortons in the US of A!

Wednesday, October 16, 2013

#NaNoWriMo 2013

And lately I haven't been... But I have been thinking about whether or not I should sign up for another NaNo. I did it in 2011 - and finished! (Yay for follow through!) - while in school full time with exams right smack in the middle. 

The girls are telling me that I should sign up. I'll be making my decision by the end of the week.

Are you participating in NaNo this year?

Tuesday, October 8, 2013


Came home from work this morning to this awesome little photo op compliments of Mr. Jones - our four month old Maine coon cross. He's growing like a weed. We brought him home from the vets at six weeks old and he fit in the palm of my hand!

Sunday, August 4, 2013

#8Sunday - Drained - Episode 25: Take Two

Welcome back!

I have been on vacation for two weeks, and have spent the entire time sick. Yeah baby! Finally on the mend and back at work this week. So awesome.

But anyway...

This weeks excerpt takes place close on the heels of last weeks.


I'm not the kind of person who ranks out my subordinates. Hell, I'm not usually one to consider anyone a subordinate. In this case, though, I felt it necessary to remind Luke that there was a time and a place to attempt to tear my clothes off, and in my labs, in front of Michael, was hardly the time or the place.

"Casey," he crashed against me, gripping my hair and pulling it so I had no choice but to lift my chin and expose my neck.

"Oh hell no," I heard Michael in my head again and closed my eyes, bracing myself for the inevitable onslaught of pain I felt coming.

My knees started to give out and I couldn't tell if it was caused by Michael's forceful entrance into my head or by Luke's mouth on my throat. Thankfully, the minute I hit the ground I had that part sorted out.

It was Michael, and I was in his head, watching from the ground in that godforsaken room, with Mare's foot stomping on his throat.


Thanks for stopping by this week --you feedback is always appreciated :)

Check out the talented participants of Weekend Writing Warriors by following this link.



Sunday, July 21, 2013

#8Sunday - Drained - Episode 24: All Things Forgotten

Welcome back!

This week follows closely where we left off two weeks ago, with the doctor explaining the addictive nature of hormones on mutant males.


I know what you're thinking. How bad can one sniff really be? Well, since you asked.

These guys are capable of sniffing out the hormone fluctuation - however slight - in any female old enough to produce one. Apparently this is relevant to the work they do, as demonstrated by Michael and Mare.

I heard Luke's sharp intake of breath and then his sigh, and turned around in time to see him step towards me, folder on the floor, long forgotten. His eyes had darkened and his hands were trembling.

I was  in trouble, I knew, as a jolt of electricity tore up my spine.


Thanks for stopping by this week and leaving your feedback :)

Be sure to check out the wonderful and talented writers participating in wewriwa this week by following this link.



Sunday, July 7, 2013

#8Sunday - Drained - Episode 23: Addiction

Welcome back!

This week is a continuation of last week, where the Sergeant had sniffed the doctor. Big deal in the mutant world, for those wondering. Read on to find out why.


My breath caught and my skin tingled under his stare.


He was standing so close I could feel his body heat against my back. I shuddered, against my own will.

I had heard from the others to never let a male know that you reacted to them. Doing so had the same effect on them as heroin did on humans. Once they got the sweet scent of raging hormones flowing  through their bloodstreams, they would do anything to keep it there. It was the worst kind of addiction.


Thanks for stopping by this week! You can check out the sentences by the very talented wewriwa participants by following this link.


Keeley  :)

Sunday, June 30, 2013

#8Sunday - Drained - Episode 22: Sniffing

Welcome back for another edition of weekend writing warriors!

This week follows closely behind last week.


Luke Delaney had sniffed me.

I stood frozen in place, part of me hoping that I was hearing things, the other part - I'd place an estimate at say, ninety two point three percent - hoping it was true.

I had only ever heard about sniffing from the others; while they compared notes about their spouses/significant others. If you haven't figured it out by now, I'm still kind of new to the mutant world.

According to the other females - the more experienced ones - sniffing only meant one thing. The Sergeant was interested. In me.

The back of my neck tingled as he stepped closer.


Thanks for stopping by this week and leaving your feedback.

You can check out the many talented participant excerpts by heading over here.

See you next weekend!


Sunday, June 23, 2013

#8Sunday - Drained - Episode 21: Luke Part Two #WIP

Welcome back!

I'm keeping it short right now -- I've got a little over an hour before I need to leave for work. Awesomely, I remembered as I was falling asleep last night that today was Sunday. As my niece would say... "That's so extra". Still have no idea what that means, but what the hell. I'll go with it today.

This follows close behind last week, and right after Casey has been advised that rank doesn't prevent relationships in the mutant world.


The temperature in the room rose as Luke's eyes seemed to tear my clothes off where I stood. I cleared my throat.

"Something you needed, Sergeant?"

The tip of his tongue rested on the corner of his upper lip for a moment. He cocked his head and fixed those slate gray orbs on me.

I thought I was going to incinerate and prayed it would not be quick.

"Information for you, Colonel."

I tore my eyes away from him and noticed, for the first time, the folder in his hand. The black circular stamp on the front with the red splash marring it gave away its origins.


I am stuck in the land of real people for the next 10-12 hours, and my last exam is tomorrow morning, so I will be delayed in catching up on blogs this week...

Thanks so much for stopping by. You can find the posts of the very talented wewriwa contributors by following this link.

Have a great day!


Sunday, June 16, 2013

#8Sunday - Drained - Episode 20: Luke Delaney

Happy Fathers Day!

So awesomely, I missed the deadline last week to sign up for wewriwa. I was debating, as the clock tick tick ticked towards the final minutes, as to whether or not I really wanted to dedicate my Sunday off with the Boolighan (my 10 y/o) to reading and writing. I decided at the last possible second that I didn't, then changed my mind and -- lo and behold -- the linky was closed. Can I get a big fat duh.

Turns out, the Boolighan had his buddies over and played X Box Live. So it was, essentially, an opportunity wasted. Lesson (possibly) learned (but probably not).

On a positive note, I wrote the next part to my WIP, DRAINED, during the week, despite exams being a week away and needing to focus on them. The muse... Always strikes at the most inopportune times... But whatever. The part is written, posted on wattpad and freaking awesmazing. It is also where I am pulling this weeks sentences from.


There was a knock on the door. It swung open to reveal Staff Sergeant Luke Delaney -- gods gift to the world.

The man was chiseled out of diamond; so well muscled that the sleeves of his uniform should have split at the seams. He had flawless golden skin, brown hair flecked with honey-colored highlights, and the most riveting gray eyes that I had ever seen. If I wasn't his superior I would have thrown him the ground then and there. And let's just say it wouldn't have been to demonstrate a new karate hold.

None of my education could prepare me for the surge of hormones attacking me the instant Luke stepped into the lab. All I could do was stare at him, humiliated that I was nothing more than a blithering idiot in his gorgeous manly presence.


So there you have it. Thoughts?

Thanks for stopping by this week. You can check out the talented wewriwa participants by heading here.



Sunday, June 2, 2013

#8Sunday - Drained - Episode 19: You've Got Nothing #WeWriWa

Welcome back to another weekend writing warrior excerpts! You can find the rules and the list of the other participants by heading here.

This week takes off from last week, because I know how much everyone enjoys Cavanough. I hope he's about to get his comeuppance.


"You are only the doctor because I've allowed it," he sneered. "Have you forgotten what happened to the doctor you replaced?"

I wanted to snap that I couldn't forget that which I had never been told, but I held my tongue. Cavanough was a piece of work.

"I'm the doctor because I have the education," I took a deep breath. "You can attempt to dispute that all you want. You didn't award me with this position, I earned it." The team was in my head, and I smiled as they filled in the details I was lacking.

"Besides, unlike the other doctor whose sudden brain injury made you believe she was unfit, you, Sir, don't have shit on me."


Thanks for stopping by this weekend and leaving your feedback.

Have a great Sunday!


Sunday, May 26, 2013

#8Sunday - Drained - Episode 18: Mission Unsuccess #WIP

Welcome back for another Weekend Writing Warrior Eight Sentence Sunday. (You can find the rules here as well as a list of the very talented participants).

This week carries on from last week, where Cavanough has just told the doctor to basically terminate one of her patients. He's not got a huge fan club. Can anyone tell why? Lol.


"I will absolutely NOT remove his virus, and I will certainly not be sending any one's remains to their next of kin unless they're yours."

Cavanough raised his eyebrows and stared at me, mouth agape.

"Colonel Scott, I implore you to see reason. The lieutenant has too many failures in his dossier, he has put us at risk."

"Beseech me, implore me, hell, impeach me for all I care. He's had one unsuccessful mission of a hundred." I recalled the image of Mare demanding to know my whereabouts. "Nothing has been compromised and I won't just yank his virus out and send his battered body to his mother because you say so. I'm the damn doctor here, and that's my call to make."


Thanks for stopping by this week, your thoughts are always appreciated :)



Sunday, May 19, 2013

#8Sunday - Drained - Episode 17: Call To Action

Good morning!

Last week Cavanough received such a warm welcome that this week I decided to skip ahead just a little tiny bit to the first actual interaction with him:


"It's come to my attention that the Lieutenant was captured and drained of all vital fluid," he paused, as though waiting for one of us to confirm or deny. Neither of us spoke and he carried on.

"Too many of his failures have compromised the integrity of our project. Remove his virus and send his remains to his next of kin."

I blanched, my fury clawing to escape like the bile rising in my esophagus. "You son of a bitch," I sprang to my feet and stepped towards him. The General was up and intercepting me before my hands could wrap around Cavanough's pencil thin neck and squeeze the life out of his mocking face.

"Stand down Casey," he whispered, tightening his grip on my shoulder.


Thanks for stopping by this weekend - your feedback is always appreciated :)

Check out the talented WeWriWa authors by visiting this link.



Sunday, May 12, 2013

#8Sunday - Drained - Episode 16: Human Among Us

It's that time again, and Happy Mothers Day!

This week is another continuation of last week.


Cavanough's office was on the main level. He was a human who insisted on being surrounded by humans and his New York accent grated on my nerves the same way nails on a chalkboard did.

He was a pompous jackass -- an uppity know-it-all who was arrogantly convinced that his degrees in war fighting and philosophy made him the best candidate for second in command.

Of the twenty-six in the project, only three of us had never been to war. He was one of them. So was I, but I felt that I had spent enough time with our guys to see the effects that the front line had on them. I could be sympathetic when their missions went wrong, patch them up, and do everything in my power to make things less painful. Cavanough would come to see them and the first words passing his thin lips would be tsk tsk.


Check out posts by other WeWriWa participants here.

I hope everyone is enjoying a wonderful Mother's Day Sunday! Thanks for stopping by :)


Sunday, May 5, 2013

#8Sunday - Drained - Episode 15: Cavanough

Keeping it short to rest the arm for commenting later on when I'm more awake. This week starts a few sentences from where last weeks ended:


"Are you well enough to walk, Casey?" His voice was gruff but his eyes gave away the concern behind the tough exterior.

"Yes Sir," I nodded to emphasize how awesome I was feeling, and regretted it mid nod. There were nails rattling around in there, I was sure. The smile plastered on my face probably looked more creepy than convincing. I shrugged to myself.

"Major Cavanough needs to see us."

Creepy smile vanished, and I found myself wishing that I could go back in time and unsmile, just to avoid meeting with Cavanough.


Check out the talented offerings of the other WeWriWa participants here.

Thanks for stopping by and leaving your thoughts :)


Sunday, April 28, 2013

#8Sunday - Drained - Episode 14: History

Last week the General dragged Casey back to the present. This week she's sitting in his office, getting her bearing, as he's talking to two soldiers, about heaven knows what, but she suspects that it's got something to do with her. The soldiers bolt as soon as they can, practically racing each other to the elevator.


I'm not the lying type, so I won't start doing it now; it can be creepy sixty feet below ground. The halls may be well lit but knowing that one foundational crack or well dropped bomb could send the earth crashing down on us was far from comforting. Also a contribution to creep factor were the rumors that flew around about what we actually did down here. 

Some said that we studied aliens. Others said that we were engineering a super virus. Neither were really that far from the truth, but I wasn't about to be the one to spill those beans. I wasn't stupid, and my contract prohibited it. Breaching that wasn't on my to-do list; I'd seen what had happened to the last asshat who had made that mistake.


Click here to be taken to the Weekend Writing Warrior site where you will find the works of many fabulous writers.

Thanks for stopping by this weekend. Your feedback is always appreciated :)



Sunday, April 21, 2013

#8Sunday - Drained: Episode 13 - Back In Body #WeWriWa

It's that time of week again!

Lets be honest. I'm still pretty much out. I haven't REALLY been using the arm - as per doctor's orders - but it's getting a little silly. The other night at work (yup, still working with one arm in a sling) I filled out a packet of paperwork with my left hand. It looked like a seven year old had written all my information on the form. A seven year who can stay between the lines and spell everything correctly. I was pretty impressed with myself. Boo-yah!!

I found this awesmazing (my twelve year old niece deserves credit for introducing me to this word) app in the Apple Store that converts my speech to text, and, because I NEED to be writing somehow, I caved and decided to try it out. My poor left hand needs a break sometimes.

I "wrote" the following eight sentences (and the entire chapter I pulled this excerpt from) by talking to an app on an iPad. It turned out okay as long as I stopped immediately and corrected words like "dissertation" into the much more appropriate "disembodied". The app clearly needs me to talk to it more. At some point I may post an uncorrected version of something just so we can all have a chuckle. Maybe on Monday. Everyone needs a laugh on a Monday. It's Monday. 'Nuf said.


I tried to shake my head, which didn't work well since I was so disembodied.

"Michael," she jerked his head up by ramming her crop under his jaw.

"Yes?" His voice was husky, tone matching hers.

I sat quietly in the background and watched the scene unfold before me, as morbid as a train wreck. I couldn't tear my eyes away from the beautiful woman whom he called Mare and her absolute hatred for this man I loved; whose empty, naked body was currently lying on a gurney in my labs, waiting for me.

She was whipping his groin with her crop, furious that he wasn't responding to the pain that she was trying so hard to cause.

I felt the memory tear, as though a yard of fabric was being torn off the ream, and I was back in the hallway with the General crouched on the floor beside me.


Thanks for stopping by this week and leaving your feedback!

Check out the awesmazing wewriwa talent by following this link.



Sunday, April 14, 2013

#8Sunday - Drained - Episode 12: Strangle Hold

Hello Sunday!

I've been slow on getting around to everyone and responding to comments. I will catch up this week.

Awesomely, I'm still not allowed to use the hand that writes the words, and my exams are next week, so I'm feeling pretty unproductive. I have, however, been using a dictation program, so all is not lost. I'm just more the type who needs to be writing while I write. Talking while I write doesn't really cut it for me. And, I'll be honest, I feel like a circus side show when I start talking to myself and I know there are people within a one floor radius who may be able to hear me. But I am getting there. (For those wondering - still not sure what happened so now I'm waiting on the orthopedic surgeon to get back too me about the eyeball sized mass(es) that we found in my elbow joint during the ultrasound. Woot woot!)

Enough about that drama, though, this is about the story!


Mare turned to the three men and pointed too the door. "Your presence is no longer required."

"We'll just be outside, yell if you need us."

She had already focused her attention back to Michael. "That won't be necessary, will it baby?"

He smiled in his crooked way, which enraged her. She dropped the whip and wrapped her hands around his throat.

"I'll kill you, Lieutenant, but not before you tell me where your maker is."


Read the works of the wonderful wewriwa participants by clicking here.

Thanks for stopping by!


Sunday, April 7, 2013

#8Sunday - Drained - Episode 11: Unmasked #WeWriWa

It's that time of week again (And thank Gods, it's April!)

After the injury from hell I still haven't written anything new - writing with my left hand has been reserved for school stuff, because equations are hard to type - so this week carries on (again) from where last week left off.


Michael has been delivered to the doctor - Casey - on his military base, exsanguinated. While trying to determine how to reverse the effects of being drained, Casey ends up seeing how Michael got to be in his current condition, by taking a trip through his memory files.

Did I mention that these guys are mutant soldiers?


There was something about her that made his spine tingle, and it wasn't until she whipped him below the belt with her riding crop that I figured out what was causing his 'discomfort'.

His body was still programmed to destroy her, and his reaction proved it.

I felt the pain blossom in his head as the whip connected with his most vulnerable area.

His rage never faltered and seemed to create a bubble around the nerves, because that should have hurt like a bitch -- but it didn't even phase Michael.

"Mare," he muttered, his eyes locked on her. "It's been a while."

She laughed and slapped his cheek with her whip. "It has been, hasn't it?"


Check out the other wewriwa posts for this week by following this link.

Thanks for stopping by!


Sunday, March 31, 2013

#8Sunday - Drained - Episode 10: Here Kitty Kitty

Happy Easter!

I haven't done much writing the last few weeks, because I tore the tendons in my arm basically from the neck down  and - because it hurts like the dickens - I was saving its usefulness for my calculus midterm that was on Thursday night. Since that's over, I suspect this week will be more productive. But probably not by much.

Anyway, because of the aforementioned situation, I'm carrying on this week where I left off last week.


"Michael," she purred, and I almost laughed at how preposterous it was that she would actually purr while communicating, especially with someone she was, without a doubt, planning on killing.

"Is this what they mean when they call something poetic justice?" I wanted to know.

"I don't guess I even like poetry, Ma'am, but I reckon so, he grunted.

I felt bad laughing in the shadow of his impending doom; even though that wasn't EXACTLY what I was doing.

"It's not," he countered, laughing himself. "You're laughing at this nut job purring like a kitty cat while preparing to hook me up to tubes and liberate my blood."

Mask lady was walking towards him. Was that a riding crop in her hand?


Thanks for stopping by this weekend. your feedback is always appreciated :)

I hope you're all having a wonderful Easter weekend!

Check out the wewriwa talent here.



Sunday, March 24, 2013

#8Sunday - Drained - Episode 9: That 'Je Ne Sais Quoi"

Welcome back to another eight sentence Sunday!

This week follows last week (missed that? Check it out here).


Second - the je ne said quoi that I just mentioned, they have it so that they can bed the enemy, because everyone knows that bedding the enemy makes for interesting pillow talk. Afterwards they are expendable.

Back to the brain waves.

I wasn't yet sure what had transpired between Madame Surgical Mask and Michael, but by the taste of his bile, it wasn't pretty.

Rumor had it that Michael had only a single failed mission in his dossier, and I was betting it had something to do with this masked bitch.

He kept his rage in check but I could feel the sweat starting to form on his body as his temperature rose.

"Easy there, big guy," I whispered, forgetting for a moment that I was but an observer and time travel was still impossible. He chuckled in my head, but I could sense his discomfort.


Who is this woman? And why is she wearing a surgical mask? Those are my questions, and I'm hoping to find out soon.

Thanks for stopping by! Click here to find links to the wonderful authors participating in this week's eight sentences!

Cheers :)


Sunday, March 17, 2013

#8Sunday - Drained - Episode 8: The One That Got Away

Good Sunday morning, my lovelies!

Last week I posted about the doctor having her mind taken over by Michael -- mutant extraordinaire. (Click here to see what that was all about.)

This week is a continuation from there:


Neither of us screamed but given my status as non deployable, I had been rather protected from seeing such grisly sights. A chill tore up my spine, then back down, and probably would have continued using my spinal cord as a roller coaster had the door not chosen that instant to fling open and all but belch a white coated lady into the room.

The woman standing in the doorway wore a surgical mask, but he recognized her in the instant he saw her eyes. I felt the hatred bubble up within him.

I'll digress here to explain something. Or maybe two somethings.

First -- the flock of females on base, the one's who willingly gave Michael their numbers -- really didn't understand their draw to him; they just were. Mutant males exude a certain... je ne sais quoi, and because of that, think law of attraction on steroids.


It's the last day of March break :( I've gotten some writing done, some studying done, and spent a buttload of time cleaning up after my son and his friends while they partake in their Xbox marathons.

Today I'll be reading the works of the fabulous participants at the wewriwa website. Check them out!

Thanks for stopping by :) Your feedback is always welcomed. I look forward to hearing from you.



P.S: Want the inside scoop on Drained? Click over to wattpad -- no account needed!

Sunday, March 10, 2013

#8Sunday -- Drained - Episode 7: The Hand in the Ceiling

One more day of work and then a six day "vacation"! It's so needed - my body has begun the slow process of falling apart as though it were a cake being removed from the pan too soon after coming out of the oven. I figure that in another three or four days -- or maybe even at some point today -- certain essential parts (like my entire dominant arm from the shoulder down) will just say stick it, lady, and fall to the ground. Fingers crossed that this doesn't happen.

Background for this week's eight:

Our main male character - Michael - is showing his doctor what happened to him. It so happens that Michael was exsanguinated, and he's showing her all of this by taking over her mind.


Michael did more of a visual scan while he had time. The men were leaning against the walls. The room was bare of furniture. A rat was in the corner, chewing on what appeared to be bloody rags.

He noticed the dark stains on the floor around his feet. They spread across the concrete. His eyes followed them all the way to the end of the trail and looked up.

Chains were bolted into the ceiling, and attached to them, a severed hand, fresh enough that blood was still dripping.


If you want to read more, head here.

Visit Weekend Writing Warriors to read more snippets from the very talented authors who make this blog hop happen every week.

Have a great day!


Sunday, March 3, 2013

#8Sunday - Drained - Episode 6: Damn You, Harry Potter

Well hello there and welcome back to another #8Sunday. This week finds the illustrious Casey Scott, mutator of mutants extraordinaire, in a less than comfortable position, in the head of her maybe not dead -- but definitely bloodless -- colleague.

If you have no idea what's actually going on, don't feel bad, I really don't either, but you can check out last weeks anyway ;)


The General was at my side even as the shriek came out.


A knife had been rammed into my vertebra. A knife wearing Harry Potter's cloak of invisibility.

My vision blurred and I fell to my knees. I could vaguely hear the General mumbling into some contraption.

I ignored him as the pain flowered in my brain and suddenly Michael was there, begging me to embrace it so he could tell me what had happened to him.

The world coalesced behind my eyes and I was in Michael's head, sifting through his demons.


My schedule has changed at work this weekend so I will be conducting random drive by reading/commenting on the wonderful posts that you can find at the WeWriWa site.

You can find the entire story (sofar) by heading here. Your feedback is always appreciated :)



Sunday, February 24, 2013

#8Sunday - Drained - Episode 5: Mutate The Soldier #WeWriWa

Welcome back!

I'm late on my installment of Drained (my WIP), this week, so I'm going back two weeks and posting eight soon after that.


The government funded a "mutate the soldier" program, and somehow my brother got caught up in it.

Then, because I was far too wonderful to be given up, they decided to mutate me as well.

In this matter, I was given very little choice.

I remember asking the General what they could possibly want with a seventeen-year-old. He told me, in his gruff fifty-something year old way, that he needed me to replace the last specialist in his lab.

And just what had happened to his last "specialist"?

"She was unable to recover fully from injuries sustained in combat."

I can't recall my reaction, but I do know that I stipulated in my "contract" that they couldn't send me into combat.


If you want to catch more of the story, it's posted here.

I just got off work, but after a short nap (I don't want to be up all night AGAIN - I have class in the morning) I'll be visiting the blogs of other WeWriWa participants. Check out their posts by following this link.

Your feedback is always appreciated!



Sunday, February 17, 2013

#8Sunday - #WIP - Drained - Episode 4: You Scream Like A Girl

For the past three weeks I've forgone all edits of current works to pen the story that has been hammering inside my skull looking for an exit path. I figure that at least I'm writing. Yes, if I take nothing else away from this experience, at the very least I'm writing every single day, something that I usually put off "until tomorrow" when I have "more time". (My brain is fried from sleep deprivation. What else do you expect from me?)


Poor Michael, what had they done to him?

This question wasn't posed to anyone in general, but it was his Captain -- the Captain -- who answered.

"You call yourself a doctor and don't know how blood gets drained from a body?"

Let's be honest, I wanted to slap him. I had spent months trying to figure out a way to bitch slap my colleagues without raising a hand; no contact meant no chance of breaking a nail.

All my attempts had been epic failures -- until the last one.

I smiled to myself and decided to try out my latest modification.

The Captain screamed -- like a girl.


You can check out the last three weeks by clicking the links below:

Episode 1: What a Bloodless Mess
Episode 2: Talk Like Everyone is Watching. Because They Are
Episode 3: Mutants

The parts of this story are posted on wattpad if you want to check them out.

My son and I are hanging out for the weekend, playing Minecraft until our eyeballs bleed and it's time to go to my dad's birthday "thing". At some point I'll be checking out the posts from the other contributers at WeWriWa. There are extremely talented people participating in this. Be sure to show them some love ;)

Have a great weekend!


Friday, February 15, 2013

Military Love Stories

My sis/bestie/roomie/personwhodrivesmeinsane is married to a man in the military. He is away more than he is home (I'm not sure why but I'm long past the "ask questions" stage).


This year Amy at Trials and Triumphs of Loving my Sailor asked for military spouses to write in with their love stories. So my sis did just that.

Her story went live yesterday for Valentine's Day. It's a simple and fairly short story about how she met her huzb. She sent him the link for Valentine's Day.

I know what you're wondering. What in the hey is my point?

My point, my lovelies, is that this girl (and many many others) needs some love. This is the third V-Day in their four years of marriage that he hasn't been home.

So, if you have a spare few minutes to peruse the site and leave a comment for her, please do.

Her story.

Thanks guys!


Sunday, February 10, 2013

#WIP - Drained - Episode 3: Mutants

I lost track of time this week and didn't get to sign up for the official WeWriWa. *Sigh*

I'm posting anyway, because I'm cool like that.


It was at that point that I was told -- sort of -- about just what (not who) my brother was.

A mutant.

Not just any mutant. A self-healing, can't die, won't really age, kind of mutant.

And, because the bullet he bit was made especially for mutants, he was a mutant full of bone eating worms.

Oh happy day.

After the initial shock wore off -- I won't bore you with just how long THAT took -- I discovered something even more disturbing.

I know what you're thinking: what could possibly be more disturbing than finding out that your brother is a mutant?


This is a story that I have been posting part by part on wattpad. You can read the first three parts here.

Have a great Sunday guys :)


Sunday, February 3, 2013

#WIP - Episode 2: Talk Like Everyone is Watching. Because They Are.

I was too tired to brain last night, so I'm posting these sentences almost 24 hours later than normal. I just keep telling myself, better late than never.

If you missed last week, which is the very start of the still untitled work-in-progress, you can find it here. This week builds off that.


Exsanguination. I let the word roll on my tongue and didn't like the taste of it at all.

I shook my head and turned to Gunnar and Dix, the two finely sculpted pieces of meat kept on hand for their general handiness.

"The Major reports that our lost Lieutenant is in one of those pine boxes." They were the first words I had spoken all day, and sounded funny coming from my mouth. They were only spoken because we were being watched, and I was obligated to maintain our secret.

"Bring him to my lab. I'll meet you there."


Exams are over! New classes begin on Tuesday! I don't know why I'm using exclamation marks! 

Enjoy the rest of your night!


Monday, January 28, 2013


Back in October my lovely rescued puppy choose some prime real estate on which to relieve himself. My computer. Since then I have been posting on the "fly" - from laptop, cell phone and even a tablet (the last two are great for drafting but terrible for formatting...).

This has made it difficult to reply to comments, to post as often as I would like, and has made networking a virtual nightmare. Every one of my social media accounts has suffered, and I feel like an ass hat for not being able to comment appropriately (sometimes at all) on the excellent work of other bloggers.

I am happy to announce that my actual desktop is back online, sans urine, and I am feeling much more alive than I was, say, three hours ago. Yay computer!

Sunday, January 27, 2013

#SixSunday - #WIP - Episode 1: What a Bloodless Mess

It's the last official weekend for Six Sunday and to mark it, I'm posting the start of a new project I started working on last night when the drive to write it outweighed my drive to study for my physics final tomorrow.


Michael was in one of the flag draped caskets being off loaded onto the tarmac.

"You sent him back in a coffin?" I asked, my fury mounting.

"Casey, it's the only way to get a dead soldier home," her reply was much too casual, and I chalked it up to her being on another continent and thus far, far away from my ability to poison her.

"How do we even know he's dead when I haven't had a chance to look at him?"

"Calm down Casey," Adler warned. "He may not be dead, but he has no blood, and in the human world, exsanguination typically means death."


I hope you're all enjoying this fabulous last weekend of January.

Make your weekend more wonderful by checking out the official Six Sunday site.



P.S: Happy Birthday to my mom! She just turned 29. Again. ;)

Sunday, January 20, 2013

#SixSunday - Desolation - Episode 25: How Do I Tell You...

Good morning my lovelies.

This week sees Andie trying to figure out how best to answer a question about death. Given her area of expertise, one would think it would be easy...


I was stalling. Not because I didn't have the answer, but because I didn't have the words. How does one explain to a child - a child barely out of diapers - that their entire world had been ripped apart because of one selfish act?

I thought back to my mom's best friend, murdered by her estranged husband in the prime of her life, and wondered how the news had been broken to the children - the babies - left behind.

It was never a good time to ask my mother about events of her past. I sighed, sat down on the toilet, and pulled out my cell phone.


My exams are right around the corner, but before I hit the books, I'm going to be heading here with my coffee.

Have an excellent Sunday!


Saturday, January 19, 2013

Wake Up Call

It's Saturday morning and I have waited ALL WEEK LONG for this day. Why? Because I finally would be able to sleep in. I had nowhere to go, no reason to get up before at least 730-800. It was me and my pillow. We had been planning this rendezvous for quite some time.

So about six this morning I'm sound asleep and suddenly I'm smelling something rank. I, naturally, automatically assume that the cat has defecated somewhere in my room, totally forgetting that my puppy is sleeping in his crate at the foot of my bed.

By this time the stench has disturbed me enough that I am twenty five percent awake. I ask Flint if he's OK. When he doesn't respond I start the terrible process of getting up.

Normally this would take a good half hour, but I'm seriously suffocating by this time and I want to know what the hey is so smelly.

Understand that my room is not large and the windows are closed because this is Canada, people, and it's freaking cold.

Puppy is perched in the corner, the malodorous stench bringing tears to my eyes, and poo is smeared all over the bottom of his crate.

It has foot marks in it.

Here I will remind everyone that it's six in the morning. What to do with a poop covered (white!) puppy at six am?

I go bang on my roomie's door, apologize for waking her up, but I need her assistance to prevent smearage all over the furniture.

Forty minutes later everything is right in my world again and I'm lying on the couch (because my room has lingering scent issues) and thinking about the post I did a few weeks ago for Six Sentence Sunday in which the pup smeared poop all over my main character's new sofa. (You can catch it here.)

In the back of my head I can hear Andie laughing. That's karma baby.

Have a great weekend!


Sunday, January 13, 2013

#SixSunday - Desolation - Episode 24: Oh Those Hippos

Happy Sunday my lovelies.

So it's the very end of another week - a long one, with back to school and working. Some days I'm convinced that sleep dislikes me, it usually stands just beyond my grasp.

Today I rescued the pup from the Martha Stewart Pets square thing that my sister had given to him, five minutes earlier. It was wearing a bow tie. In the next day or two something else will be wearing a bow tie. Let's just say it's not going to be the dog toy. Who puts such things on a toy for dogs, anyway? That's the same as handing a baby a bunch of teddy bear eyeballs and telling them to have fun.

This week I am pillaging sentences from early on in the manuscript, not from lack of writing (surprisingly), but for lack of writing anything worthy.


I woke up the next morning in much the same state as I had the one before - the hippopotamus feet dancing on my bladder at four thirty in the morning made the mad crutch for the bathroom extremely interesting. And slightly dangerous.

Half an hour later I was leaning on a single crutch staring into my closet. There weren't many cast friendly options sticking out at me. For the most part I had been wearing tracks and, occasionally, jeans that flared in the legs to accommodate the monstrosity that was my leg.

Unfortunately, going back to work meant that I needed to dress the part. I stood staring, hoping that something would come flying off a hook and slap me in the face.


I'm spending the rest of the day listening to my son and his buddies make oinking sounds and roll of the floor laughing over mooshrooms in Minecraft. (A mooshroom is a red and white cow with mushrooms sprouting out its back, in case, like me, you didn't know.)

In between bouts of laughter I'll be checking out the posts here on the Six Sunday website.

Have a great day!


Sunday, January 6, 2013

#SixSunday - Desolation - Episode 23: Nobody Does it Better

Happy New Year!

It's the first Sunday of 2013!

Last week saw an accident on the couch, compliments of the new puppy. (Missed that? Check it out here.) See what this week holds below:


Mentally I counted to ten, then kept right on going. When I reached seventy-five I pulled out my cell phone and text James. It was his idea to keep the damn dog, I was going to leave it to him to clean it.

Of course, any woman knew that letting anyone besides herself clean up crap on the couch was make believe. I would let him think that he was cleaning it up, but the minute he left the room I would be on it with scouring pads and a hand held steam cleaner. No one, not even James, could clean up my couch to my exacting standards.


Thanks for stopping by. You're feedback is always appreciated :)

Check out what I'm reading by following this link.


I'm on Facebook, hope to see you there!

Wednesday, January 2, 2013

Writing Tip

Use the camera on your cell phone.

I know what you're thinking. I should stick to my day job and not dole out advice. If you're not thinking that, fear not, because I am.

I use the camera on my phone, and even have a fancy Android app called cam scanner (you can find that here), because I'm the kind of person who will write on a napkin, a roll of toilet paper, myself, and even a coffee filter, should paper not be available. Yes, I could just pull up a writing app on my phone, but sometimes I need the physical act of writing to stimulate the synapses in my head.

Now that we know I'm that kinda writer, its also relevant to know that I'm the kinda person who will wash the writing off my body, or toss the crumpled up napkins without making sure they aren't literary masterpieces. It's cold season, people.

What I've been doing is writing and then taking a snapshot, or scanning it. That way I have the writing, and don't lose the BEST SENTENCE OF MY LIFE, by passing it on to my son so he can blow his nose.

Good luck!


I'm on Facebook! Hope to see you there!

Tuesday, January 1, 2013

Goodbye, 2012!

My son was born ten years ago on January 1st. Tonight, as the New Year - and his birthday - approach, he is with his buddy in his room playing minecraft and listening to the minecraft parodies on youtube.
2012 was a hard year for us, and him especially. I won't go into much detail because I'm running short on space and frankly, it's boring, so let's just say that I hope 2013 is a better year.
I want to live life forward without dwelling on the past. In some cases that's not possible. I'm greeted at the door by an eight month old white shepherd rescue who is a constant reminder of who I've lost. Honestly, as I sit here writing this, I realize that I need him to keep me grounded. I am a different person than I was the day I said goodbye to my best friend. I'd even go so far as to say I'm a stronger person.
I'm not much for resolutions and this year is no different. What I am hopeful for is to take my experiences and learn from them.
Major goal for 2013? Get my manuscript (Fall From Grace) finished and ready for publication.
Happy New Year. May 2013 bring you all the joy you deserve.
And of course, Happy Birthday to my Boomaster.