Heart of Ice and Fire Part 4 of 4

Ice

Welcome back for the last part in the Heart of Ice and Fire story!

If you missed the first three posts, you can find them here and here and here. Or, here’s the quick recap.

Recap: Em traveled to snow troll territory to find a man named Jimmy Wilkes. She presented him with a green debt gem that her mother earned by saving his daughter years earlier. Now, in calling in the debt, Em is asking for a snow troll’s heart to save her mother from the poison she got from being scratched by a troll. The poison is driving her crazy. Mr. Wilkes agreed to help if Em was willing to hunt for a troll with him.

However, when Em agreed, Mr. Wilkes used her as bait and let the troll take off with Em. The troll held Em long enough to show her that she is Wilkes’ daughter changed into a troll by the poison years ago.

Now Em is working, reluctantly, with Wilkes and his daughter to hopefully find a cure for Em’s Mama and Wilkes’s daughter.

Let’s see how this story ends =)

Heart of Ice and Fire Part 4

EmeraldsThey stopped in a cavern filled with ice that glittered white and blue. Wind howled through in a dull roar.

“There,” Wilkes pointed to a hole high in the cavern wall. “Take that gem of yours and explore there.”

“Whaaattt?” As Em asked, Marie picked her up and approached the wall. By stretching onto her tiptoes, the troll could tuck her into the hole Wilkes indicated.

“I’m not a cork for cave walls,” Em protested. The hole didn’t offer much room to move. She lay on her stomach and peeked her head out to glare at Wilkes and Marie. Marie grinned and drool slid down one of her fangs. Beside her, Wilkes grinned too and the resemblance was eerie. “And neither of you are right in the head.”

They chuckled together.

“Not right.” Em shuffled around until she faced into the hole. It was perfectly round, and deep enough that she couldn’t see farther than a foot or two. Mama, what have I gotten into?

Sliding on her stomach, Em moved forward. At her touch, the walls began to glitter the same white and blue of the icy cavern.

“Find the heart in ice and cold,” Wilkes voice trailed up behind her with a singsong kind of chant. “And a young hero, warm heart and bold.”

Em paused both to marvel at the glowing walls and to listen to that chant.

“Trust the debt gem, ruby or green.

Trust both gem and hero, lean.

Return heart from frost to fire,

Save life from poison’s dire.”

The last word echoed and then Wilkes started singing the chant, repeating bits of it over and over again. Marie added to the sound by crooning her own type of song. None of it held any real tune.

“Not right,” Em muttered and scooted farther forward.

Not more than three scoots farther and the end of the tunnel glowed to life. The ice shimmered perfectly smooth and clear except for a tiny divot near the bottom. Within the wall’s cold depths beat an actual heart. Em wished it were a cute little heart like what her Mama would draw on the walls, but its vein covered surface reminded her more of Jimmy Wilkes veined hand than a drawn image.

“Find the heart in ice and cold,” she muttered. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Been trying to reach that beauty for ages!” Wilkes’ voice bounced around the walls.

Em withdrew the green gem and held the cut part up to the small divot. “Kidding me.” It was a perfect match.

Bleed

Photo courtesy of Sebring’s Snapshots

“Got a problem,” she hollered back to both Wilkes, “what if this thing actually bleeds? I don’t have a way to collect it.”

“Small pocket inside the cloak,” Wilkes hollered back.

Patting around for a moment, Em found the pocket. Inside were wrapped two small vials capped with corks.

“Here goes.” And she inserted the gem into the wall. Instantly, it sucked the gem into the ice. The heart shuddered and beat faster. Fumbling the first bottle, Em withdrew the cork and held it ready beneath the divot.

“Thank my stars,” she whispered as three drops filled the bottle. Fumbling again, she dropped the second bottle. “No, no, no.” Her chilled fingers finally retrieved it and she held it below the divot. Two drops and the flow stopped. Were two drops enough? With her fingernail, she dug at the ice beneath the divot, scrapping away slivers of red ice and trying to fill the bottle. With relief, she held it up to see the ice melt in the warm glass. She carefully capped it and tucked both bottles back into the pocket before flipping around to return to the two Wilkes.

When she peeked her head out of the hole, both looked up at her like children waiting for a gift. Large, dark eyes…er, with one white eye too, stared without blinking. Em fingered the bottles in her pocket, unsure if the second one would work.

Mama willingly chanced her life for Marie. Em held out the totally full bottle and watched the identical grins split their faces. Crazy, but maybe worth it.

***

“How long did he wait for that heart?” Mama asked.

“Years, Mama, years.” Em handed over a plate of ham, bread and cheese for dinner. Mama took it and almost picked up the ham with her fingers. Then, remembering her fork, she opted for it instead.

“That no good, low-life actually knew about the cure all those years and didn’t ask me to help?!”

Em sighed. They’d covered this but Mama still wanted to rehash it.

“You were too big to reach it, Mama.”

“And he couldn’t find someone crazy enough to let a troll lift the…” Mama trailed off. She did that sometimes. Em couldn’t decide if it was the crazy still flowing in Mama’s veins. Perhaps two and a half drops wasn’t totally enough, but Mama didn’t climb the curtains any more. That was good enough. That was more than good enough.

“Crazy enough is right,” Em agreed. “Have you ever smelt a troll?”

Mama burst out laughing, carefree and happy as she forked a piece of ham. Em cringed but then smiled at her Mama. Who cared if her laugh and Marie’s sounded a bit like a troll’s snort. They were happy, and human.

The End

Thank you for stopping by. Hope you enjoyed the story =)

Blessings,

Jennifer

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Heart of Ice and Fire Part 3 of 4

Fire

Welcome back for the next part in the Heart of Ice and Fire story!

If you missed the first two posts, you can find them here and here. Or, here’s the quick recap.

Recap: Em traveled to snow troll territory to find a man named Jimmy Wilkes. She presented him with a green debt gem that her mother earned by saving his daughter years earlier. Now, in calling in the debt, Em is asking for a snow troll’s heart to save her mother from the poison she got from being scratched by a troll. The poison is driving her crazy. Mr. Wilkes has agreed to help if Em is willing to hunt for a troll with him.

However, when Em agreed, Mr. Wilkes used her as bait and let the troll take off with Em. Now Em is being held hostage by the troll in her cave.

Let’s see what happens next =)

Heart of Ice and Fire Part 3

Fire - Globe Hunters StoryFilled with roasted rabbit and pleasantly warm from the fire, Em curled into a ball with her back against a large rock and passed out. It might be unwise to sleep in a troll’s cave, but Em didn’t see an alternative and, well, her day exhausted her. If Ms. Troll was going to enjoy her as a snack, maybe it was better if she didn’t see it coming.

Something jerked her awake. Em’s eyes snapped open only to find the cave in complete darkness. She couldn’t immediately place what startled her but her nerves warned her something was amiss.

A foul wave of air hit her face and Em gave an, “Ugh!” before rolling away from the spot.

Ms. Troll chuckled. Her dark shape leaned over Em’s small rock enclosure. Em couldn’t say how long the troll had hunched there just watching her.

“That’s creepy, you know,” Em scolded.

The dark shape shifted backward like the troll settled to sit on her haunches.

Ms. Troll huffed but it wasn’t an angry sound. Em cocked her head sideways.

“Are you apologizing?” Mama, I’ve gone over the edge. I’m talking troll.

Ms. Troll huffed again.

“You understand me?”

The dark, hulking shoulders rolled in a motion Em could only believe was a shrug.

“You gonna eat me?”

Ms. Troll’s snort came out so powerful that snot hit the floor.

“Ugh!” Em stepped backward out of the range of any more snorts. “Then what you gonna do with me?”

Large claws reached into Em’s enclosure and wrapped snugly around her waist. Em froze. No scratches, no scratches! She chanted in her head. One crazy in the family’s more than enough. But Ms. Troll’s touch was gentle. She set Em down beside the debris of human belongings.

As Em stood uncertainly in the dark, the troll riffled in the ashes of her fire and withdrew a smoldering log. By blowing air through her long fangs, the troll brought the end of the log to life again. In the flickering light, Em scanned the broken pieces of furniture around her.

“I’m not a collector’s item,” she protested.

The troll growled and turned Em around with a claw on her shoulder. With the same claw, she pointed to the remains of a wooden chest. It sat on its side on the floor with the upturned end smashed open. A peek inside showed a few bits of clothing, probably a girl’s considering the lace on the rotted edges, and a small jewelry box engraved on the top with a dancer’s silhouette.

Em stretched on her toes to reach inside and retrieved the box. Ms. Troll squatted beside her, almost trembling with some emotion Em couldn’t guess at.

LocketShe flipped the latch open with a thumb and stared at the contents. A single necklace rested in the bottom, its tarnished silver leaving smudges on the dried out felt lining the box. A locket.

“This,” Em pointed at it, “looks very familiar.”

Ms. Troll crooned deep in her throat, almost as though she were holding back a sob. Em exhaled, sat down and leaned against the troll’s furry leg.

Gently pulling the locket from its home, she popped the latch and flipped it open.

Ms. Troll finally hiccupped her withheld sob. A tear the size of Em’s hand landed on her arm.

“That’s you?” she pointed at the girl in the locket’s picture. A small, dark haired child who held the hand of one Jimmy Wilkes.

Ms. Troll, errr, rather Miss Wilkes touched the picture with one long claw and emitted another hiccupping sob.

Em’s brain finally kicked in.

“That’s you—which means Mama didn’t actually get you safely through troll territory way back when.” Em retrieved the green jewel from her pocket. “Irony indeed,” she muttered. “Is this what happens when the poison’s allowed to run its course?” Em gestured at Miss Wilkes hulking form.

The troll huffed.

“Mama’s going to become like you?”

A croon, deep and sorrowful, was her answer.

“I take it troll’s heart doesn’t actually work?” Em couldn’t imagine Ranger Wilkes not trying everything he could to cure his daughter. He might actually be bold enough to hunt troll alone.

Miss Wilkes only confirmed her suspicion by shaking her shaggy head side to side and slumping her shoulders.

“Then Mama’s crazy is just the beginning.” Em slumped with the troll, letting her shoulders sink into the heavy fur against her back.

Miss Wilkes grunted a negative. When Em didn’t respond, the troll stood and backed away a step, letting Em tumble backwards onto the floor since her leg backrest moved.

“Hey now!” Em protested.

Miss Wilkes scooped her up again without responding. The troll’s long strides took them from the cave out into the bitter night. Instantly the air in Em’s nose started sticking her nose hairs together. A bout of shivering overtook her, so much so that she couldn’t fully voice her protest.

Perhaps noticing the violent shaking in her body, the troll shifted her into the crook of her arm. The heavy stink of troll surrounded Em but she gratefully burrowed into the long white fur. No wonder trolls didn’t mind the cold. They didn’t even feel it. The only not crazy ones to live here.

Moon

Photo courtesy of Sebring’s Snapshots.

With the cold held at bay, Em relaxed with the swaying stride of Miss Wilkes. The sky above was cloudless and filled to overflowing with sparkling points of light. No moon showed its face but there wasn’t a need for one. Em blinked, and sucked in a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Her reaction wasn’t due to the troll smell. The velvet sky held her gaze. It was so clear she wanted to reach out and touch it. Mama, you’d love this. It’s like a sea of gems.

Gems…Em slid her fingers into her pocket and carefully withdrew the deep green debt gem. Its rough edges stuck out at angles like it was half planned, half cut, and then abandoned in the making. The shape had always fascinated Em but it never made sense to her why someone would only half cut such a beautiful thing.

The swaying stride slowed, and Em tucked the green gem away.

“You have her?” came a voice from near the troll’s feet.

“Wilkes?” Em called. “You stinking liar!”

Miss Wilkes huffed fish breath into Em’s face as she set her down onto the snowpack.

“Uck!”

Jimmy Wilkes grinned from beside the mouth of a cave. It was the only break in an otherwise pure white field of ice. “She’s got a wicked sense of humor, my Marie.”

Em wanted to spit at him, but he held out to her a fur lined cloak and a pair of heavy boots. Reluctantly, she shrugged into the garments and then glared at him from the hood. His one white eye crinkled at the corner as though he appreciated her spunk.

“Follow me,” he said.

“Where?” Em didn’t move.

“You wanted troll’s heart, right?”

Em tilted her head to look up at Marie. “Doesn’t look like that’s happening.”

“Depends,” he shrugged and started into the cave.

After a moment of stubborn silence, Em followed. Marie’s heavy steps brought up the rear.

“You put up with this man?” Em asked her over her shoulder.

Marie harrumphed.

“You have my sympathy.”

To Be Finished Next Thursday…

Thanks for stopping by =) Hope to see you next week!

Blessings,

Jennifer

Heart of Ice and Fire Part 2 of 4

Snow

Welcome back! =)

This story started last week. If you missed the beginning, you can read it here, or here’s a quick overview.

Recap: Em traveled to snow troll territory to find a man named Jimmy Wilkes. She presented him with a green debt gem that her mother earned by saving his daughter years earlier. Now, in calling in the debt, Em is asking for a snow troll’s heart to save her mother from the poison she got from being scratched by a troll. The poison is driving her crazy. Mr. Wilkes has agreed to help if Em is willing to hunt for a troll with him.

Let’s see what happens next:

Heart of Ice and Fire Part 2

It hadn’t crossed her mind that whatever needs to be done included burying herself in the snow up in the mountains. Not only did she have to be out in the frigid cold, she had to bury herself in it.

Wilkes insisted this was the best way to catch and kill a troll. It would smell her beneath the snow and hunch down to dig. With the beast focused on digging, Wilkes could sneak up on it with a barbed spear. An arrow would only lodge in the heavy skin and a sword could be pulled free too easily.

Because of what she wanted, he couldn’t puncture the heart, he had to take out an artery or puncture the lungs. A risky venture due to the time it would take the troll to collapse.

The old man gave her two long daggers to hold while waiting as bait. He instructed her to stab at the sensitive insides of the paws if the beast got too close.

“Why do I have to be bait?” she’d asked.

“Snow trolls eat humans,” he answered.

“What about a horse? It’d make a bigger meal.”

“They dislike horses, and donkeys, and cows and even chickens. They’ll eat a cat or dog, but you won’t find such creatures around here. We need a human for bait. Know anyone else willing to fill your shoes?”

Em couldn’t think of another option. She shuddered and tried to still her out of control heart. Mama, you’ve rubbed off on me.

***

Snow with Sun SettingSnow crusted around her mouth where her breath hardened it to ice and a ringing settled into her ears from the silence. Wilkes assured her this wouldn’t take long but now she had no way of estimating the time and the press of snow seemed to grow against her body.

A concussion to the snowpack brought a groan from Em’s throat. The snowpack tightened around her and then a scratching sounded above her.

Em tightened her hold on the daggers. Wilkes buried her deep but a troll’s claws measured somewhere around five inches long. With that kind of digging power, it wouldn’t take long for the beast to reach her.

Come on, Wilkes. Em waited for the troll’s scream, waited for any sign of Wilkes attacking the beast digging for her. But the scratching continued. Light appeared in the crust above her and with it came frantic movement. Long paws pulling at the layers of snow. Still no scream. Where was Wilkes?

The troll’s claws dug deep. Then it hesitated and, instead of digging like a dog, it sank its claws in from the side, shoving them past Em’s torso in the snow. She tried to twist, to bring the dagger around at that paw, but the snow still held her tight. Then the claws closed around her, pinning her arms to her sides, and the troll lifted her completely free of the snow.

A scream struggled in Em’s throat but those claws held her tight and air just wouldn’t move in her lungs. A long snout greeted her with teeth the length of her fingers. White fur framed the drool hanging from the beast’s red lips.

The teeth didn’t bother her so much. One bite and she’d be done. But the claws holding her were another matter all together. Within those sharp daggers waited the troll’s poison. One scratch and she’d be climbing the curtains with her mother, raving about the deep blue ice and fire within every soul.

She met the troll’s eyes. They held her gaze with intelligence as deep as the sea they resembled. Huge irises constricted and then widened as she didn’t look away.

The troll harrumphed, showering Em in a cloud of breath that stank of rotten fish.

“Ugh,” she coughed. “Ever think of brushing your teeth?”

The troll pulled back its red lips, displaying said teeth in a wide grin. And then it harrumphed again and Em gave an “ah, yuck!”

A deep rumble started in the troll’s chest and then escaped its throat in a gargling laugh.

Then it started running, with Em still firmly held within its claws.

Two things rattled Em’s brain as she bounced with the troll’s long, heavy strides. One, the troll understood and had a sense of humor. And two, she spotted Wilkes standing within the trees where he was supposed to be laying in wait for the troll. A grin split his wrinkled face as he watched her being carried away.

***

Howling Maw Sketch from The Adventure BookNo good, low-life Jimmy Wilkes.

Em wanted to spit. Spitting was Mama’s crazy thing when she got pissed. She spit on the mirrors and the windows. Never the floors for some reason but any reflective surface suited her just fine. Em wanted to spit bad but she couldn’t find a reflective surface and spitting on the wall or floor felt wrong, rude.

The troll had carried her back to a cave in the mountain pass. It stank of fish and troll but blocked the wind from the outside. Em figured she’d adjust to the fish and troll smell for a chance at some warmth.

After surrounding her in boulders too big for Em to move herself, the troll disappeared. The boulders didn’t meet perfectly around their edges, so Em could make out the cave beyond, but the troll had done its job well. She couldn’t fit through any of the cracks.

Em spotted the faint flicker of a fire deeper within the cave. It cast dancing shadows on the far wall. Trolls making fire? She’d never heard of such a thing.

Just beyond her prison lay a jumble of artifacts. Clothing, jewelry, crushed furniture and pottery. Em shuddered to think of who those items used to belong to. Would her clothes join that pile soon?

A thudding announced the return of Ms. Troll. Em decided it had to be female. She saw no indication of male parts, thus female troll.

The beast sat on one of the boulders and set a dead rabbit into the prison with Em.

Ms. Troll grinned, dripping saliva onto the floor, and pointed at the rabbit like she was giving Em her prized toy.

“It’s raw,” Em said. Then, “Are you trying to fatten me up?”

Ms. Troll snorted and sent snot flying. Em reconsidered spitting on the floor. It might not be so rude considering her hostess.

Ms. Troll didn’t take the rabbit away. She reached for the pile of human debris and gathered the remnants of a chair. Placing those into a neat pile within Em’s cage, she meandered away only to return with a small flaming brand from the fire deeper within the cave.

That brand flared so hot that simply laying it on the gathered wood made it all burst into flame on contact.

Em jumped back and then, realizing the warmth radiating from the fire, she moved forward with glee.

Ms. Troll grinned and wandered away, satisfied with her accomplishment.

DaggerEm waited for her to disappear into the cave before skinning the rabbit with one of her daggers. The small weapons didn’t even give the troll pause. She simply eyed them before placing Em into her cage earlier and shrugged when she pricked her paw with one while she inspected it.

So much for having a weapon against the beast. No good, low-life Jimmy Wilkes. Em spit into the corner and laid pieces of the rabbit onto a rock beside the fire.

To Be Continued Next Thursday….

Thanks for reading this week!

Blessings,

Jennifer

Heart of Ice and Fire Part 1 of 4

Ice

It’s been some time since I posted a short story. If you know me at all, you know ‘short’ and ‘story’ are hard for me to put together. But sometimes I try.

Due to some things happening in life right now, an adventure just wasn’t plausible, so I figured I’d pull this story out of the mental archives and finish it. It’ll span the next several weeks. Let’s dig in and see what happens =)

Heart of Ice and Fire

Frost covered the edges of the glass window until there was only an oval in which to look through. If Em touched the corner, she’d leave a small fingerprint in the otherwise unbroken edge of the opaque white.

Em tried it and now the tiny ridges of her index finger stared back at her. She ignored the print. If anyone asked, it wasn’t hers.

She stared instead at the people bustling around the street outside the inn, bundled like hunched, furry animals. They were crazy people, every one of them. As the glass attested, even the fire in the hearth wasn’t warm enough to contend with the bitter cold outside.

And these people wandered around in it. A man passed her window, his beard iced over from his breath. Crazy. Certifiably crazy.

“Got parents?”

Em spun in the booth. A woman stood by her table. Her shoulders hosted a wool sweater that about doubled her size.

“Maybe,” Em answered.

“All’s I want to know,” the woman leaned against the table and posted a hand on her outside hip, “is can you pay?”

“Yes.”

“Good. What’ll ya have?”

“Cider.”

The woman lowered her head and looked at Em from the tops of her eyes.

“Not hard cider,” Em said, “just cider.”

“Hmm.” The woman wandered away.

Em shook her head and went back to staring at the crazies outside. Out of everyone on this trip, this woman was the easiest to deal with. Hadn’t even slowed her down that Em didn’t have parents with her. Most Inns insisted to see an adult, like Em could produce one out of her pocket.

Guess she couldn’t blame them too much. Seeing a young girl traveling by herself wasn’t common. And the closer she’d gotten to the mountains, the more suspicious people got. People in general just didn’t travel alone near the mountains.

Em finally joined a small trading party to get to Warren. They didn’t ask why she wanted to go to the last town before Summit Pass, and she hadn’t offered the information. It was the only town within fifty miles of the Pass, and she wasn’t sure she could technically call it a town. Just a group of people hardy enough, and crazy enough, to live in snow troll territory.

Mug of Cider - Set Up Adventure StoryA mug clanked down onto the wooden table. “That all for ya?”

“Where can I find Ranger Wilkes?” Em asked.

The woman snorted. “Ranger Wilkes?”

Em just stared at her in the best imitation of her mother she could muster.

The woman snorted again. “He be crazy, you know?”

Seems to go around. Em raised a brow.

“Try at Zander’s shop. He likes the smell of tobacco.”

Em waited just long enough for the woman to disappear into the back before pulling the mug of cider close and taking a deep sniff of the crisp drink. The warmth of the wooden mug tingled against her chilled fingers.

Mama, this place be crazy, she thought in an imitation of the Inn woman.

***

Zander’s was a smoke shop right on the edge of town. It hunched low, letting the snow slowly creep off its eves in long sheets. Em eyed the icicles edging those sheets and imagined teeth. She shuddered.

A bell tinkled with the door but, because of the dim interior, Em didn’t see the two men sitting in the back of the shop until she made it to the cash register.

“Don’t sell to youngin’s,” one man said past the pipe in his teeth.

“Not looking to buy,” Em answered. “Looking for Ranger Wilkes.”

The other man burst out with a laugh that rocked him forward in his chair. He slapped his knee and rocked backward again.

“I’ll be,” he said, “haven’t heard that name in eons.”

Considering his mass of wrinkles, he might not be lying.

“Ranger Wilkes?” Em asked him.

He sobered. “No Ranger here. Just Jimmy Wilkes.”

Em digested that. Ranger implied honor. Jimmy Wilkes was a complete unknown. She’d come all this way, though; so backing down just wasn’t an option. Her Mama would tan her hide for this venture anyway, may as well make it worth her while.

EmeraldsShe approached on soft feet and held out her hand to show him what she held. A tiny, deep green jewel nestled in her palm.

Wilkes grunted, and then eyed her with different eyes. This close to him, she could see the one white eye and the one brown one. She got the gut queasy feeling he saw her with both.

“Martha’s daughter?” he asked.

“Maybe,” she said.

“What’s she calling me to do?”

Em hesitated. Her Mama didn’t know she’d come. She wasn’t asking Wilkes for anything, not knowingly. But she needed the old man’s help, even if her pride wouldn’t let her ask for it.

“Troll heart,” Em finally answered.

Wilkes froze, the other man let out a low whistle.

“That’s some debt,” he muttered, and then pushed up from his chair and left Em and Wilkes alone. He moved to the register and began unpacking a satchel the trading group brought him.

“She infected?” Wilkes asked.

Em tried to meet his eyes but couldn’t hold that strange gaze for long. She dropped her eyes to her feet. The gem, clutched now tightly in her palm, bit into her flesh.

“She’s not asking,” Wilkes said. Not a question. “You know what she did to earn that gem?”

Em shook her head. It was just below a blood gem. Martha couldn’t have saved Wilkes himself or the gem would’ve been ruby red. Whoever she did save, though, had to have been his family.

“Then you’ve no idea the irony in this.”

Em glanced up through her lashes.

“My daughter,” Wilkes said, tapping a silver necklace with an oval locket around his neck. “She smuggled my daughter through troll territory. Got scratched in the process.”

Em shuddered, and then understanding washed coldly from her head down her spine. Wilkes nodded as he saw the horror overtake her face.

“Yeah,” he said, “I couldn’t turn you down if I wanted to. Martha’s infected because of what she did for me. Surprised she’s lasted all these years without the madness affecting her.”

Em didn’t respond. She hadn’t lasted all these years. Mama raved and tried to climb the curtains on her good days. The only thing that seemed to make her sane was when she taught Em her lessons. A stark, frightening clarity overtook her for those brief hours like she lit a fast burning candle to illuminate the whole areas of her brain.

Wilkes nodded again. “Can’t do this alone,” he said. “You up for hunting troll?”

This was the first hint she’d seen of the crazy the Inn woman spoke of. Her, a thirteen-year-old girl, hunting a troll?

She lifted her chin. “Whatever needs to be done.”

To Be Continued Next Thursday…

Thank you for stopping by. We’ll see you next week =)

Blessings,

Jennifer

Updating the Face…

I’ve a confession. Sometimes I’m lazy.

I started this blog in 2012 after listening to one of Michael Hyatt’s lessons on writing and self publishing. He advised putting a picture of myself on every platform I used. That way, no matter if it’s WordPress, Facebook, Twitter, or some other platform, readers could recognize each site as mine by my picture.

2012 HeadshotSeemed logical, so I pulled up my pictures, selected one, and posted it on all my online sites. Never thought about it again.

I missed the part about updating that photo periodically. Some say you should update it every six months. This seems excessive to me, but after six years with the same photo, I’ll admit, it’s horribly out of date.

When I called one of the book stores in town concerning a book signing, they asked about a current, high quality photo of the author. Ummm. I don’t have that.

So, as with everything involving The Adventure, a photographer friend stepped forward and offered to help me out.

As a self proclaimed introvert, I’m not big on having my photo taken, so I was extremely nervous about this whole deal.

2018 HeadshotHowever, I couldn’t be happier with how the pictures turned out.

So, for those trying to build a platform, update your photo once in a while. (I’ll make this note to myself too =).

And here’s a great big thank you to Dan. You can check out more of his photography here on instagram.

Goodbye to my old photo.

And hello to my new photo. Me, six years older and maybe, hopefully, a tiny bit wiser.

Blessings,

Jennifer

Z Publishing

z publishing logo

Very, very, and I mean very rarely will a publication seek out writers for their book or magazine.

Most of the time, a writer must submit to a publication and hope their writing is accepted. As any writer knows, this is a trial in patience and waiting.

So when I received an email from Z Publishing House, I first thought it was spam or a scam…but, it was asking me to submit to one of its Anthologies and, as a writer, it’s good form to check it out.

Thank God I did. Z Publishing House features up-and-coming writers from the various states. That’s why they search out and email writers, because they are specifically looking for those who are not as well known.

So I’m thrilled to announce one of my short stories, Wizard’s Coffee, will appear in Z Publishing’s Colorado’s Emerging Writers: An Anthology of Fiction.

It’s up for pre-order right now and will be published this month. Eeeek!

Wine

Colorado wine for Colorado Writers!

Thank you for letting me share my excitement =) Every publication, big or small, equals a celebratory glass in this house. So cheers!

Until next time, blessings,

Jennifer

Globe Hunters Option Cc: Stay in Town

Globe Hunters Story

One of the farmers, a short, ultra-skinny man by the name of Evan, pulled the short straw and ended up taking you to his house for supplies.

Mountain Sunset - Globe Hunters StoryAs he hands you cheese and bread from his larder, you ask him, “May I stay for the night? It’s awfully unwelcoming in the woods at night and the sun’s about set.”

At first he stares at you like you grew a second head, but then your words seem to sink in and he nods.

“Of course,” he says. “I should have offered in the first place.” He scratches his head like he’s trying to figure out why he didn’t make the offer.

You help him set the small dining table with ham and bread and then sit down on the bench to enjoy the meal.

You’re trying to figure out how to question him further about the dragon and the life fountain when he sits back and folds his fingers across his nonexistent belly.

“You’re right about the woods, but it’s not just at night that they’re unwelcoming,” he says.

“How do you mean?”

“Well,” Evan says, “there’ve been some terrible fires in the woods this year. You get caught on the wrong side and you’re stuck between the cliffs and the fire. Lost a couple people that way. The whole north ridge is black as coal right now from the most recent burn.”

“Wow,” you say. “That’s terrible. Lightening strikes?”

Evan snorts and sneers out a, “Dragon fire.”

Fire - Globe Hunters StoryThis causes you pause. Dragons can be mean tempered, vengeful even, but rarely will they set fire to their home ground. They’re smart enough to know that burning large swaths of land will drive away their food sources.

“Something happen to anger the dragons?” you ask.

“Not that we know of,” Evan says, “but we caught the worst culprit.” At this he points in the direction of the main square with the tethered dragon.

“That particular dragon’s been causing the fires?”

“Yup,” Evan nods. “That one’s gonna pay for its crimes.”

You’re torn between asking how they know it’s this particular dragon and asking if the rest of the town will be out there, working on her scales, all night. As he’s been talking, a feverish light has entered Evan’s eyes again. You judge the second question is the safest at this point.

“Naw,” he responds. “They’ll set a guard for the night and pick back up in the morning. Speaking of which, it’s time to turn in. There’s a bed in the lean-to on the back of the kitchen.” He points. “Sweet and safe dreams.” At this, he gives you a peculiar smile and then ambles up the stares to his own bed.

You watch his narrow back recede and then find your way to the bed in the lean-to. There’s just enough room for you to duck in and lay down but the bed itself is comfortable, so you stretch out.

You figure you’ll give it a half hour, maybe forty-five minutes, and then you’ll sneak out to investigate the town and the dragon.

The air in the lean-to is still, stuffy even, with the heat from the fire Evan has banked in the kitchen fireplace filling the room.

Before long, your eyelids droop and sleep disrupts your plans to look around.

The weightless felling you have tells you you’re dreaming but the sun’s out and the air’s filled with the perfume of mountain flowers. You’re standing in an open field, a glade surrounded by aspen trees. Directly in the middle of the swaying golden grass and splotches of vibrant color is a shimmering surface.

As you approach, you see water dripping from the edges of an iridescent bowl of silver laced with blue streaks. The urge to dip your hands into the water overtakes you and, before you can think about it, you submerge your cupped hands and bring the water to your lips.

It’s sweet and clean, and in the reflection of the fountain, you see yourself, young and flawless.

This holds you for awhile until something, Evan cooking breakfast in the kitchen, intrudes. You’re eyes snap open and, for a brief moment, you think you see something in the ceiling of the lean-to. Perhaps two deep brown eyes lined with green, but then you blink again and the illusion’s gone.

You rub your tongue on the top of your mouth in a vain hope that the fountain’s water still lingers but instead you find a dry, oaky flavor.

Your mind tries to capture this, knowing it means something to your hunter training, but then the desire for the fountain’s water returns.

You join Evan and help him finish cooking the bacon and eggs.Bacon - Globe Hunters Story

“This life fountain,” you begin, “do you have a location to build it?”

You expect some hostility from Evan but instead, he looks up with a radiant, childlike smile.

“There’s this glade just to the west of here,” he says, “with flowers and sun ripened grass…” the description he gives is so perfectly inline with your dream that your desire to taste the water returns again.

“Well,” you say, “can’t build it with out the dragon’s scales. Want help today?”

“Would love it!” he says.

With excitement, you follow him back outside to join the villagers in their task.

As you pass the dragon, her head swings around and you find one giant purple iris in your way.

There’s a tug at you. It’s a mental summons you know a dragon can exert on other creatures. That summons invites you to touch her, to open a mental connection so she can communicate. But such a move is extremely dangerous. The dragon can then control you for a short time if she wishes.

As you hesitate, the summons comes again and, this time, as you resist it, the dry, oaky flavor fills your mouth again. It means something but you can’t seem to place what.

Thin plumes of smoke trail from the dragon’s nostrils.

You want to build the fountain. If the town’s folk and your dream are correct, it can give you flawless life.

But her summons is insistent, desperate almost as more plumes of smoke escape her nostrils.

Do you…

Cc1: Touch the Dragon?

or

Cc2: Ignore the Dragon?

In the comments, vote for how you’d like to continue the story. Next Thursday, we’ll be back to see how this adventure ends!

Blessings,

Jennifer