Posted in About me

The Spider and the Near-Death Experience

I am by no means an arachnophobic, however I wouldn’t exactly say I like spiders. We have a complicated relationship, we have agreed long ago, they stay outside and I promise to give them the space they deserve, to do the fantastical things they are capable of, however, come inside and I will mercilessly bring about their demise, while screeching hysterical…depending on the size.

So a few days ago a Spider decided to break our pack.

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Posted in Flash Fiction, Original Fiction

A Cold Smile

He was dangerous and deadly and cruel. His hands were stained with blood, his life one of sin. Late he would sweep in like the night wind, throwing her life into disarray, branding his presence onto her soul. He left his mark, wouldn’t allow for her to forget him.

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Posted in M.A.L.C.O.L.M, Original Fiction

M.A.L.C.O.L.M. Prologue

M.A.L.C.O.L.M.                                                                     Chapter 1=>

“Shit!” Addison cursed, removing her hand from the now smoldering piece of technology. It looked like a large piece of metal surrounded by several bands of steel, all encasing a fluctuating luminescent orb, accompanied by several flashing, menacing looking dials. It was all very evil genius. What it did? That was classified under project, Sunbeam, only Addison was prevalent to details at this early stage. Sunbeam was nothing more than an idea, and a few failed attempts.

“Are you okay, ma’am?” M.A.L.C.O.L.M.’s voice asked. It was hard to believe that M.A.L.C.O.L.M. was nothing more then one of Addison’s many inventions. Anyone, (including Addison herself at times) could be fooled into believing the calm nonchalant voice, with the southern accent, belonged to another flesh and blood human being.

Addison looked up at the ceiling,”Perfectly fine M.A.L.C.O.L.M. Thanks for asking.” She paused, drumming her blunt nails against the hot metal of attempt 27, her slim fingers stained with grease.

M.A.L.C.O.L.M.: The first fully functioning A.I. with the ability to create his own thoughts. He was a miracle of technology. The science world was desperate for Addison to create more and mass produce M.A.L.C.O.L.M.’s but she just found she couldn’t do it. There was something sublime and unique about M.A.L.C.O.L.M. something made him irreplaceable and unreproducible.

Thank God, the CEO of the company, Mrs. Lisa Donavan, shared her view, or least found Addison’s mind enough of an asset not to push the issue. Addison was pretty sure Lisa just liked the fact that her company possessed the only functioning A.I. that was decades more advanced than any other company, and as it was no one could get their hands on his code and attempt to reproduce him. “M.A.L.C.O.L.M.?”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“When was your last upgrade?” she asked, her current project ending up rather disappointingly, not challenging at all, despite the promises it had made to be. Sure it was finicky and blew up all the time, but that was due to it’s natural instability, not anything particularly interesting. Sure, it was currently little more than a cool flashlight, but she just didn’t have the resources to go much further with it, not unless she wanted to bring more people in. M.A.L.C.O.L.M. always made a fascinating distraction, and at least a weeks worth of sleepless nights of work.

“Last month, ma’am.”

“Hmm…” she tapped her wrench up and down on the smoldering technology. “It’s probably about time for another one then.”

“Probably,” was the machines only reply.

“M.A.L.C.O.L.M. phone Ezra.”

“Ma’am, I have been requested by Mr. Mayhew to inform you to only call him during work hours for emergencies.”

“Make the call anyway.”

“I have also been requested to apprise you to the fact emergencies count as; the lab being on fire, you being kidnapped or otherwise held hostage, Mrs. Donnavan pulling an unexpected meeting on you, the break room being out of Mr. Mayhew’s special blend of coffee, your parent’s calling, M.A.L.C.O.L.M. developing a glitch, the-“

“Yes, yes, I know what Ezra considers, ‘emergencies’” she made heavy air quotes around the words. “Call him anyway I know he loves to hear form me.”

“Right away, ma’am.”

“Addison, this better be a fucking emergency.”

“Ezra!” she said standing up whacking her head on the back of a car, “Son of a…”

“Addison?” his voice threatened.

“Is is!” she defended, her face instantly lighting up at the sound of Ezra’s voice.

“Is my coffee all gone, did Alice from fucking finances drink it again? I am going to kill her when-“

“Threatening another co-worker.” she said rubbing the back of her head gingerly, smears of grease tangling into her violent pink hair. “Tsk, Ezra you’re rather flustered today.” She glanced at the now cold cup of coffee half full of Ezra’s blend sitting on her work bench. She grinned guilty, not all that repentant.

He took a moment to glance at his watch, his booted feet eating up the ground before him. “I have an interview scheduled in thirty seconds, and I still have to get there, and you’re distracting me, you know I can’t walk as fast when I am talking.” He berated her, though the affectionate tone was impossible to miss. The rugged features of his face set in an amused smile, his deep green eyes crinkling about the edges. “So what’s the emergency?”

“I desperately need your advice.”

“On what,” he asked, voice laced with suspicion, thick brows drawn together, lips curving downward.

She bit her lip to keep from laughing, imagining his perturbed face. “I just wanted to know, if you had any ideas for upgrades on M.A.L.C.O.L.M.?”

A loud curse was heard, accompanied by the thud of heavy work boots. “Addison I am the head of the software department, not your fucking babysitter.”

“Oh come on Ezra,” she whined, “you know you’re the only intelligent person here for me to talk to, you have to give me some ideas. I am dying here.” Her eyes were wide and begging her lips pursed and pleading, the effect was ruined by the lack of visual contact.

Silence blared through the lines.


He groaned, the sound coming from deep within his throat. “Alright! Just give me a second,” he said exasperated with her persistence, tugging on his tie. The blue fabric growing crinkled, if you looked closely you could see the faint pattern of binary crossing the surface. “Uh….I don’t know. Give him….more emotions or something. Like more realistic reactions to things. I swear his default is polite indifference…not at all similar to someone else I know.”

“Hmmm…not a bad idea,” she said, a large smile spreading across her face for the project ahead. This could prove worthy of a fortnight of sleepless nights.

“And I’ll get to that meeting I was supposed to be at thirty seconds ago.” he said, intercom going dead.

Ezra walked briskly into the office where a slim, rather short woman with a kind, expressive face sat attentively. Her pinstriped pants were perfectly pressed, her shirt a pristine white, and her hair was captured in an impressively flawless bun, her feet clad in a pair of extravagant looking heels. The male side of Ezra found her to be warm and lovely, the type of woman you would proudly take home to mother. It was too bad his type was more the bad-mouthing eccentric.

“Sorry, I am late. Ms. Lockwood had a..uh technical question for me. I am Ezra Mayhew.”

“Not a problem,” She paused, her hands clenching in the fabric of her pants, before slowly releasing, as if she was taking a moment to gather her courage. “Addison Lockwood was asking you technical questions? Mr. Mayhew, you must be more impressive than I thought.” Despite the relaxed tone and conversation, Ezra could clearly see the nervousness the woman was exuding, shifting frequently, eyes darting about the room.

“You can relax,” Ezra said smiling. “Addison’s the one that bites.”

She laughed, her eyes crinkling, clearly relieved. “Thanks. It’s just that meeting Ezra Mayhew is a bit intimidating. I’ve read about your work on developing the coding for Achilles, your way of coding is very unique.”

Ezra smiled at the compliment, sinking heavily into a chair. ”So you must be Ms. Moore.”

“That is correct.”

Ezra’s eyes flickered down to her file. “Olivia what a beautiful name,” he said with his best smile, hoping to put her at ease.

Heat crawled up Miss Moore’s neck staining her cheeks a bright red. “Thank you. You can call me Olivia…if you like I mean. I prefer it, but if that’s unprofessional…” She snapped her jaw shut, cutting off her rambling.

“Olivia then,” Ezra said smiling warmly, amused by the woman’s behavior. “So you are here for the position of Tech Analyst?”

She took a deep breath, straightening her spine, confidence entering her posture. “Yes.”

M.A.L.C.O.L.M.                                                                     Chapter 1=>

Posted in 4 star, Book Review

Jane Eyre and The Rockstar: A review of Jane by April Lindner

When her parents died Jane Moore is forced to drop out of college and look for employment to sustain herself. Through her lack of interest in popular culture and tabloids, she earns a job at Thornfield Park as the nanny. Her enigmatic boss is none other than famous rock star Nico Rathburn, who just happens to be on the brink of an enormous comeback. Unsure at first of her boss, due to the numerous scandals he had been a part of, she soon finds herself irresistibly drawn to him, but not all is as it seems as secrets lurk about the halls of Thornfield. Jane is April Lindner‘s amazing retelling of Charlotte Bronte’s classic Jane Eyre, only this time with rockstars!

Click for the review

Posted in Literary Analysis

Why Forbid Mourning? John Donne: “A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning”

Most people mourn the loss of a loved one, and miss them when they are gone. It is a natural reaction, many consider it good, healthy even. People want to be missed, wish to know that when they’re gone, people notice, that they don’t just vanish, but remain bright in their loved one’s mind.

In John Donne’s “A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning” he is arguing against this, stating clearly that such mourning is not only unnecessary, but is belittling to the love two people share. Click For Donne’s feelings on mourning

Posted in Flash Fiction, Original Fiction

A Clear Vision

Sunlight streamed down through leaves reaching for the earth. Clouds rolling languidly across the blue sky, as a young man dozed peacefully on the grassy hillside. His deep snores broke the stillness of the day, and the tips of the grass danced against his fingers, tickling his nerves. He had only just turned eighteen, and was more of a boy than a man. Though the responsibilities of one rested heavily on his shoulders.

“Jackson!” A petite woman barked, “Jackson, if you don’t get back to work on those fields I am going to tan your hide.” The threat hung in the air, as the woman stormed across the field, intent on reaching her good-for-nothing son. “Jackson!”

Jolted from his slumber by the familiar sound of his mother’s voice, he pulled himself into a sitting position. His legs sprawled before him, one bent, his hand resting causally on his knee. He was the picture of nonchalance on the outside, while beating down his dread on the inside. She was upon him in a furry of clenched fists and angry words. Rage lit her eyes with fire, and her rolling pin, that always seemed to be nearby, was clenched tightly in her red chapped hands, raised in warning.

“Jackson Ross Carter, what do you think you are doing?” her voiced whipped across him like a blow. Continue Reading

Posted in 3 star, Book Review

The prat who gets a heart: A review of The Year of the Hangman by Gary L. Blackwood

In 1776, the American revolution was crushed, the British still control the colonies, and the year is now 1777, the Year of the Hangman. The revolutionists have gone into hiding. George Washington, their general, is set for the noose, and Benjamin Franklin’s newspaper Liberty Tree is banned as revolutionary propaganda. Creighton Brown is a fifteen year old British citizen who finds himself in the colonies despite his wishes, and is quickly caught up in the politics and wills of others. The Year of the Hangman by Gary L. Blackwood, is a great example of alternate history with powerful character development.

Click for my review

Posted in Flash Fiction, Original Fiction

Reflections Lie

Her reflection told a lie. The girl reflected back was beautiful, happy. Her freckles brought out the green in her eyes, and her pink lips were quirked, so they always looked on the edge of a smile. Her arching brows gave her a constant quizzical look, as if each moment was of interest, each second had something new and fascinating to offer.

It was a lie.

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