Ahh, my friends. I have been slacking on this site. Barely three posts since I have opened it. Well, I will begin posting my one shots on here soon. I can't just leave them sitting on my desktop, now can I?
Currently I am working on a one-shot entitled 'Fire Burn', which is a story about the Salem Witch Trials. I am excited about it.
I hope to post it soon,
Have a great night my friends.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
An Update - Story Excerpt.
Hello everybody!
Long time no update, right? Lately, I've had this one story idea in my head. I wanted to write down the most important parts, so that I can have them saved. Now that I've done this, I can continue with Irish Bog (I will be posting chapters soon).
So, here is a quick exceprt of my story. It is untitled, and I am still working on it.
Her small, angelic hands were soft against his rough palm, his hands marked with cuts and scars while hers barely showed a trace of disruption of the skin. Her smile was wide and she flashed her teeth at him, and her blonde hair fell in light curls at her shoulders. Her headband was tilted slightly, and her tie-dyed shirt was one sized to big; she was barefoot and wearing old Capri’s that looked like they had not been washed in decades. Despite her appearance, his heart felt a unfamiliar twinge and he no longer felt the need to follow his sergeants orders."Who are you, another self-righteous Hippy?" his voice interrupted the silent moment, the deepness it was unknown to the quiet.She smirked a half grin and replied in a sing-song, light-hearted voice. "Who are you but yet another death loving soldier?" she tapped his nose with her index finger and laughed. "Trying to destroy life and cause war, and worse you follow somebody else’s orders instead of your own."He blinked at her playful way, ignoring how strangely his heart reacted to her gesture."I am only saying dear soldier," she continued, batting her eyes and moving her fingers up his right palm. "that maybe there is more to life than what you see. Maybe peace is far better then war, and love is far better then death."He stared at her. "What is your name?""What is yours?""Percival," he said in his deep rumble, not taking his eyes away from hers.She grinned. "Percival the War Soldier! Dear old Percy of Vietnam!" "Enough." He spat, growing annoyed of her taunts. "What is your name, girl?"She stopped and smiled at him, "Call me Heather, dear soldier. We'll meet again, alright?"She pecked him on the cheek, sending his heart a-blaze with feeling; she spun on her heel and trotted off. All intent on destroying this women, this creature of God, this daughter of Earth, vanished from his soul. He watched as she pranced away, her beads dangling and making noise against her bangles, and her hair flowing in ruffles. His captains orders meant nothing to him, how could he remove such a beautiful person from existence?Placing his rifle back against his side, he turned around and began to walk back to his base, to report that the Hippies were no longer in this area. Far back in his mind, he hoped he and Heather would meet again.
The line is drawn, the curse it is cast. The slow one now, will later be fast as the present now will later be past. The order is rapidly fading, and the first one now will later be last. For the times they are a-changing.
Excerpt and characters are (c) Me.
The Times They Are A-Changin' (c) Bob Dylan.
Long time no update, right? Lately, I've had this one story idea in my head. I wanted to write down the most important parts, so that I can have them saved. Now that I've done this, I can continue with Irish Bog (I will be posting chapters soon).
So, here is a quick exceprt of my story. It is untitled, and I am still working on it.
Her small, angelic hands were soft against his rough palm, his hands marked with cuts and scars while hers barely showed a trace of disruption of the skin. Her smile was wide and she flashed her teeth at him, and her blonde hair fell in light curls at her shoulders. Her headband was tilted slightly, and her tie-dyed shirt was one sized to big; she was barefoot and wearing old Capri’s that looked like they had not been washed in decades. Despite her appearance, his heart felt a unfamiliar twinge and he no longer felt the need to follow his sergeants orders."Who are you, another self-righteous Hippy?" his voice interrupted the silent moment, the deepness it was unknown to the quiet.She smirked a half grin and replied in a sing-song, light-hearted voice. "Who are you but yet another death loving soldier?" she tapped his nose with her index finger and laughed. "Trying to destroy life and cause war, and worse you follow somebody else’s orders instead of your own."He blinked at her playful way, ignoring how strangely his heart reacted to her gesture."I am only saying dear soldier," she continued, batting her eyes and moving her fingers up his right palm. "that maybe there is more to life than what you see. Maybe peace is far better then war, and love is far better then death."He stared at her. "What is your name?""What is yours?""Percival," he said in his deep rumble, not taking his eyes away from hers.She grinned. "Percival the War Soldier! Dear old Percy of Vietnam!" "Enough." He spat, growing annoyed of her taunts. "What is your name, girl?"She stopped and smiled at him, "Call me Heather, dear soldier. We'll meet again, alright?"She pecked him on the cheek, sending his heart a-blaze with feeling; she spun on her heel and trotted off. All intent on destroying this women, this creature of God, this daughter of Earth, vanished from his soul. He watched as she pranced away, her beads dangling and making noise against her bangles, and her hair flowing in ruffles. His captains orders meant nothing to him, how could he remove such a beautiful person from existence?Placing his rifle back against his side, he turned around and began to walk back to his base, to report that the Hippies were no longer in this area. Far back in his mind, he hoped he and Heather would meet again.
The line is drawn, the curse it is cast. The slow one now, will later be fast as the present now will later be past. The order is rapidly fading, and the first one now will later be last. For the times they are a-changing.
Excerpt and characters are (c) Me.
The Times They Are A-Changin' (c) Bob Dylan.
Friday, March 20, 2009
First post and Summary.
Hello everybody!
I'm Rebekkah, and currently I am working on two writing projects. The first of them being By the Shores of the Irish Bog, and the second one is entitled I love you, TTYL. The latter is not a horror story, nor is it a mystery story, but I try to mix up my work.
I made this blog so my friends and family (maybe even fans when my story gets more popular) can read the chapters of my stories; see unfinished works; sketches and art, and other things. This is basically where you can find almost everything related to my writing.
I will post summaries of different stories I am writing, and maybe excerpts.
You will see a lot of Irish Bog, as this story is my baby and my top priority.
I'm really hoping that I can get my work published sometime soon, once I've finished High School and College. Being an author is my plan in life.
What you will be reading here on this blog is a very rough draft of chapters, meaning you will be reading the story, but it is unfinished. The chapters I have done right now need a lot of work before I plan on publishing them, and much more will be added to make the ending work.
I will try to update this blog on a regular or weekly basis, which ever works for me or when I have something new to post.
Right now I will start the blog by posting the Summary to Irish Bog.
Enjoy, and keep reading!
Summary:
Emmett Wilson and his daughter Elain are tired of the hard life in New York, so Emmett decides to move back to his familys orgins: Wicklow, Ireland. But once moved into his familys old mansion, Emmett starts to notice weird things occuring; strange dreams, images and shadows, and pictures frowning?
Nothing could disturb Emmett further until the unknown finally shows themselves; Three ghosts that are in dire need of help of taking the last step into the next life.
Emmett and Elain now need to help the trio of spirits before he and his daughter become just another memory imprinted on the mansion's walls.
Love,
~ Bekkah
I'm Rebekkah, and currently I am working on two writing projects. The first of them being By the Shores of the Irish Bog, and the second one is entitled I love you, TTYL. The latter is not a horror story, nor is it a mystery story, but I try to mix up my work.
I made this blog so my friends and family (maybe even fans when my story gets more popular) can read the chapters of my stories; see unfinished works; sketches and art, and other things. This is basically where you can find almost everything related to my writing.
I will post summaries of different stories I am writing, and maybe excerpts.
You will see a lot of Irish Bog, as this story is my baby and my top priority.
I'm really hoping that I can get my work published sometime soon, once I've finished High School and College. Being an author is my plan in life.
What you will be reading here on this blog is a very rough draft of chapters, meaning you will be reading the story, but it is unfinished. The chapters I have done right now need a lot of work before I plan on publishing them, and much more will be added to make the ending work.
I will try to update this blog on a regular or weekly basis, which ever works for me or when I have something new to post.
Right now I will start the blog by posting the Summary to Irish Bog.
Enjoy, and keep reading!
Summary:
Emmett Wilson and his daughter Elain are tired of the hard life in New York, so Emmett decides to move back to his familys orgins: Wicklow, Ireland. But once moved into his familys old mansion, Emmett starts to notice weird things occuring; strange dreams, images and shadows, and pictures frowning?
Nothing could disturb Emmett further until the unknown finally shows themselves; Three ghosts that are in dire need of help of taking the last step into the next life.
Emmett and Elain now need to help the trio of spirits before he and his daughter become just another memory imprinted on the mansion's walls.
Love,
~ Bekkah
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