Reality Check For Authors #25: Great Storytelling is Like Great Cheesecake

Check no. 25 Storytelling and Cheesecake

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July 29, 2014 · 12:21 pm

The Remnant: A Dystopian Paranormal Story

Keri Westi Book Covers  Chp 94Chapter 94 Lincoln Square

Bracing for the brutality of his imminent demise, Spider instead found himself watching as those same talons that only seconds ago were aimed at ripping out his throat, now clawed at the scarred hand wrapped around his assailants own neck.  Above him the reaver’s eyes gleamed, his blue skin a spectral backdrop for the thing now dangling from his grasp.

“Thought you might need a hand.” Gloriach said,  the echo of a broken neck sounding in the tunnel seconds before he threw the creature across the passage, its body making a dull thud at it hit the wall, then slid to the floor, its snout at an odd angle. (more . . . )

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The Remnant: A Dystopian Paranormal Story

Keri Westi Book Covers  Chapter 93Chapter 93 In Darkness It Waits

Infecting the boy with only as much venom as needed to keep him unconscious for several more hours, the revenant left him cocooned inside a room far below what had once been a thriving community of shops and stores. An area it was intimately familiar with, having hunted there years ago before migrating to the other side of the Big Lake.

With his the young damphir now safely out of reach of his would-be rescuers, the creature began laying a different trail. One that would lead its enemies into a trap from which it had no intention of allowing them to escape.  (more . . .)

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The Remnant: A Dystopian Paranormal Story

Keri Westi Book Covers SarielChapter 92 Of Flesh And Blood

Theo stared at the tunnel’s entrance, willing the angel to reappear, unsure whether his demands to save Pedal in exchange for saving the dark angels life, would be met.

Until tonight, the Anakim were nothing more than myths told by old priests in hushed tones. Their reality little more than words on paper, the prophetic warnings of their appearance long forgotten. Now that he’d seen not just one, but two, he didn’t know whether to rejoice, or be afraid.

Psychic warnings tore through his mind seconds before he was thrown to his knees as the island shuddered under the explosive shift of the cavern’s collapse. (more…)


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Cookies | Hellhounds | Cloaks of Invisibility

Cookies , Hellhounds & Cloaks of InvisibilityBack to the wall, his favorite Spiderman T-shirt tucked into the top of cerulean blue spandex shorts, Felix peaked around the corner separating the dining room from the kitchen, his thick-lashed, still-soft-from-sleep eyes scanning the room for signs of possible discovery.

The mission? To obtain one, no two, better make it three, mouth-watering, stomach-growling, gotta-have-still-warm-from-the-oven, chocolate-chip cookies.

Cookies whose vanilla and semi-sweet-chocolate aroma had less than ten minutes ago slipped beneath his bedroom door and woken him from a dream filled with his favorite cartoon characters. With  his cloak of invisibility in hand, Felix had eased out the door of his bedroom, past the nursery – where mommy was busy with the wrinkle-faced, smells-like-milk, looks-like-a-monkey, crying-pooping-peeing-all-the-time alien life form – and down the stairs. (more)

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A Vacant Turn of Events

A Vacant Turn of EventsBy SSpjut

Jumping down from the trains dark interior, I peered through the steady downpour. Even as thorough as I’d been about masking my scent, I knew it wouldn’t take the Guardians long to know I was here. To my right I caught a glimpse of something dark slip beneath the shadows of the loading dock.

Good. I thought. The council had decided to get right to the point and not waste my time. (more)


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Reality Check For Authors

images (11) #24   Are All ‘Arks’ Created Equal

We all know the story of The Flood and how Noah built an ark, filled it with family and friends, then took a year-long cruise.

A story with a beginning, a middle and an end. Crisis, journey>climax, resolution.

Reality Check For Authors: The art of telling and weaving stories has been around for – well just about forever. And in all that time, the basics haven’t really changed. Just like the story of Noah and the Ark, every story has it own ‘arc’ of creation. Adventures told in threes acts – beginning, middle and end. Characters on a mission, over coming obstacles that bring them to a climax which then gain them a prize.




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The Remnant: A Dystopian Paranormal Story

Chapter 91 We Are Brothers.pptxChapter 91 We Are Brothers

Sariel watched from his perch far above the city, eyes the color of arsenic darkening to a deeper shade of gray at the sudden appearance of obsidian hair and matching wings outside the island tunnel’s entrance.

Leliel and his schoolboy heroism.

The angel began drawing on Moon’s power, taking the radiance of her light into himself, then rearranging each particle until it was a cold fusion whose flames pushed back the darkness broiling at the outer edges of his mind. (more)


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The Ice Cream Man Eats Children


Author and friend, EEOrme on life, children and Ice Cream Men.

Originally posted on eeorme:

ice cream man
I’ve always liked the Ice Cream man. I like the songs he plays and the memories of childhood they evoke. I even like the little white mail van he drives with pictures of ice cream colorfully pasted on the sides. This is why I was a bit confused when, while walking the dog, I found my son hunkered down behind a garbage can. When I asked him why he was hiding he said,

“The Ice Cream Man eats children and he doesn’t wear pants.” At that moment the offending vendor was busy selling ice cream to other unwary kids.

“How do you know he doesn’t wear pants?” I started with the more easily explained question.

“I snuck up on him once. All he was wearing was a wife beater and a pair of blue boxers.”

“Oh dear!” At that moment a little blond girl walked over and asked Duncan why…

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When I Ruled The World

When I Ruled The WorldBy SSpjut

It was called Zelda’s. Third entrance on the left and the only one of its kind to offer true pleasure at a subterranean level. An underground French bakery with just enough avant-garde to make me feel as though I was never less than the center of the universe and the ruling attraction of eighty-eight hundred square feet of confectionery bliss. (more)

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