The Art of You “Finale” Part 12

Fly with the wings life gives you.

Fly with the wings life gives you.

 

 

 

 

It was a warm day, that third week of June when someone knocked at my door. Curious, I peeked out from between the blinds that hung in my front window and was very surprised to see Davis on my porch.

Opening the door, I felt a flood of emotions. “What do you want?” I asked none too friendly.

Davis pleaded with me through his eyes. “I need you to come with me, Ruby.”

I laughed at him. “Really? Well, I think not. Have a good one.”

I shut the door and he slid his foot in the way. “Please, Ruby. I need you to come with me.”

His insistence made me stop to wonder what was so important.

“Give me one good reason why,” I challenged.

“Well, I don’t have one. I have just been ordered to deliver you somewhere,” he said evasively.

I closed my eyes and rested my forehead on the edge of the front door. “I can’t bear it, Davis. This last year has been torture for me. I can’t go through all that again.”

“Come out of your cocoon, Ruby. Time to spread those wings wide and fly. Take a chance and get in the car…or do I have to put you there myself?” he added with a nostalgic grin.

I sighed and grabbed my purse shouting out to the boys that I would be back in a while. All I heard in reply was some noise that came out of their mouths mixed with the sounds of video games.

I found myself in the back seat once again. The car looked the same and it smelled the same. We drove through town and got onto the freeway that took us into the very outdoorsy town of Eagle. Taking the busy thoroughfare north, we pulled into the parking lot of a hotel by the river. I could see dozens of people poised with their cameras and ready to strike, as Jack had put it once. Davis came around and let me out and I just stood there not knowing where to go or what to do.

The cameras all clicked and flashed around me. Jack came out through the doors of the hotel. He smiled at me with that relaxed smile of his.

“Ruby!” he greeted pulling me into his embrace.

Shocked, I hugged him back but not knowing what to say or how to feel. I was shocked, to say the very least.

“What are you doing here?” I asked feeling breathless.

“Look. I have missed you and have thought of you many, many times over the last year. I came back here to take my stand against anyone who wants to tell me otherwise. You can see the art of me just as I can see the art of you. You taught me that. You have shown me that there aren’t many people who will ever just love you for who you are. And I know you don’t care about the fame or the money or you wouldn’t have been real with me last year. You are the one I want and you are just as pretty as the day I dropped you off…but I never said goodbye. You did, but not me. I didn’t want that to be the end. I’ve had my struggles as I am sure you have, but it is time I claimed my freedom too. Can you forgive me for how I handled ‘us’ last year and start again?” he asked me in front of all those cameras.

“I thought I hated you. I mean really hated you. I still want to hate you,” I started.

“Okay, I know you hate me. But think of what I was dealing with at the same time. You of all people should be able to understand all those emotions,” he defended himself.

I fluttered my eyelashes in irritation. “Let me finish. While I still want to hate you, I just found out that I forgave you a long time ago. I could never hate you because…well, because I love you too much. Maybe you don’t really want to hear that, but there it is.”

Jack laughed at my sentiment and hugged me tight again. I had found the door to save him when he cried for help and he led me from the darkness and into the light. We were there for each other when we needed each other the very most.

“For old time’s sake,” he said smiling huge and a sparkle in his eye.

Before I knew what was happening, he drew me up into his arms as he had the day we went for pancakes. The day his wife died. The day my dreams came to a screeching halt.

I squealed in surprise. “You still have those strong arms,” I remarked.

“All the better to carry you with. I plan to carry you anytime you need me to, Ruby.”

And then the prince took me into his castle where we would plot out the rest of our lives together. You notice I didn’t say “happily ever after”? Well, that’s because it is impossible to be normal people and not disagree ever, so I thought that politically incorrect to say. But I will say that he has made me very happy and I soar with those big butterfly wings from my cocoon, the very one he coaxed me out of knowing I was ready to fly.

The Art of You Part 11

Life is adapting to where you are placed.

Life is adapting to where you are placed.

 

 

 

 

The mail came that afternoon and coincidentally there was a letter from Jack Harrington’s offices in Hollywood. Ignoring the other bills that came that day demanding payment, I ripped his open and unfolded the paper. There was my photo card for my camera along with his scrawling handwriting that simply said: “I thought you might like this back. Thinking of you, Jack.”

There was no revelation of missing me. Just the card. I plugged it into my computer and they were all there. That anger came back and I thought I might pitch them to the media. I thought I might sell my story to the news. I thought I would write him a good thanks-but-no-thanks letter in response. And then I flipped to the photo taken on the couch and I realized I missed him a lot but I was growing to hate him at the same time.

My fury spun out of control and I cleaned my house. I made plans for what I wanted to do in restoring it. I would spend every last cent he gave me just so he couldn’t have it back.

When the boys came home, we went shopping and bought clothes. We bought new furniture. We went out to dinner. I spent money on food at the grocery store like I had never spent before. We had so much fun together and then spent the next several weeks painting the house and doing remodeling projects from off the internet. That was our Christmas, buying the things we never could before and I had a glimpse into Jack’s life. Acquiring all those things, but not having anyone to come home to. Oh wait! He had some beautiful blonde on his arm now. I growled in frustration and hoped she would spend all of his money in careless, frivolous ways until he was broke and too old to be the sexy hero in the movies any longer.

Several more months passed and summer approached. Daniel graduated from high school and I bought him a new car to take to college. He was accepted at a school in Utah so I wanted him to have some reliable transportation. Okay, I wanted to spend more of that money that I had earned with my life. I wanted to erase Jack from my life. And as hard as I tried, he wouldn’t just leave.

So I decided to just make him visible to me the way I wanted to see him. I took the photo of him on the couch and removed the color from it. Then, I printed it out and put it out on my pretty new dresser. I suppose I felt a little bit better.

With the weather turning for the better, I hired some guys to work on the house and spruce it up some. I was nearing the end of my bucket. I knew I would have enough to pay the bills through the end of the year so I decided to use the summer to take photos that I could sell once again.

I started going to the gym a few miles away and in two months, I was back into a size 10. Feeling better about myself, I started getting out. Daniel and I bought him some things for his apartment and began to prepare to say goodbye to him as well.

When I made it into a size 8, I celebrated with a new wardrobe. It wasn’t where I wanted to be, but I could be content. I wasn’t as small as I had been, but I was showing some definition at long last. My waist was slimmer and my legs were strong, but I still fought the flab around my belly.

I started to go back to my hairdresser and had him bring back my Hollywood hair, short and sassy.

After one year, I put makeup back on my face.

“I’m not so ugly,” I reasoned to the mirror.

It had taken me a long time, but I did it. I was myself again.

We made it a point to stay busy and in truth, I hardly thought about those men in my life that I mourned. They grew to be ghosts of my memories.

The Art of You Part 8

There is sorrow in loss. I can't remember where I found this photo, but it isn't mine.

There is sorrow in loss.
I can’t remember where I found this photo, but it isn’t mine.

 

 

 

 

 

I had no right to be sad in seeing him go. I really didn’t. But I distinctly remember going in the bathroom and closing the door. This time, I locked it. Pulling the lid to the toilet closed, I sat down and buried my face in my hands, the tears flowing freely. I felt defeated. That’s the word for it. Life had beat me up so many times that I was broken and hollow and now, defeated.

Now, I’m not a religious person. I was when I was younger and even a while when my husband was still alive. But I felt lost, like a wayward ship upon story waters. My compass was broken and my soul bled. I had no choice to go down with my ship.

I took in a ragged breath and I knelt at the toilet, folding my hands piously and resting my forehead on them.

“Dear Lord,” I cried, “I’m so thankful for everything you have given me, but I am so lost right now. I know it has been a long time since we’ve had a conversation and I’m sorry about that. See, I don’t know what to do. I’m so confused. I finally allow myself to care for another guy after all these years. I feel like I finally started to enjoy living again and he gets taken away from me too. What was the purpose for all this if I’m just supposed to be alone? I don’t understand and this is one of those moments in my life that I really need you to carry me through it. Lend me comfort, I pray…”

A loud rap on the door scared the daylights out of me and I gasped loudly, quickly sitting back down and pulling at the toilet paper to mop my face.

“Ruby?” Jack asked sounding panicked.

“Yes?” I replied feebly, hoping the emotion couldn’t be heard beneath my voice.

“The door is locked. Are you alright?”

I chuckled. “I’m fine, Jack. Be out in a minute.”

“Don’t scare me like that!” he exclaimed and a pain shot through my chest.

I could tell he cared and he wasn’t meaning to hurt me at all. I was merely being selfish and wanting what I was not meant for. My status was not the same as his, we were from completely different worlds, and I was an emotional mess.

I ran some cold water over my face and pat it dry. Then, I paused as I unlocked the door and opened it to find him still standing there. That dang lump formed in my throat and burned so bad I could not speak. I looked down at the floor so he wouldn’t see my tears and I moved past him.

He reached out and grabbed my wrist, pulling me to him. I felt those strong arms close around me and my weak ones wound around him. We just stood there together for a time. My silent tears ran over my face and wet his shirt. His silent tears ran down his face and wet the top of my head.

“Thank you,” he croaked out.

“For what?” I sniffed and looked up at him.

“You opened my eyes, that’s what,” he smiled.

I was speechless. “I’m not following you.”

He took my hand and led me to the couch where we both sat.

“I can’t really describe it. I was cut off from the world even though I was a big part of it. I was angry, I was impatient, and I was ungrateful. Davis hitting you with the car was one of the best things that ever happened to me, and I mean that. There is only so much happiness that money can buy,” he gave a false chuckle.

I looked down at my hands. He envied my simple life and I envied his lavish one.

“Thank you, Jack. I can’t say that being hit with your car was the best thing that ever happened to me, but I’m glad that I was able to know you for the good man that you are. I will be really honest, my first impression of you wasn’t the best even though I am probably your biggest fan,” I laughed and he joined me. “I do want you to know that I wasn’t following you. You really did keep popping up everywhere I went. I was not stalking you, I promise.”

His hand found my shoulder. “I know. Perhaps there were greater forces that kept throwing me in your path.”

“I came up here to find closure and I found you and your great kids…and the bumper of your car. But you have helped me too. You have shown me there is so much more to life that I have missed out on these last few years. I thank you for that,” I said wringing my hands in nervousness.

“You want to know what I think?” he asked.

I tilted my head and looked at him with narrowed eyes. “Do I want to?”

He smiled, the lines around his mouth deepened and the lines around his eyes crinkled. “I think you look for the magic in the world because you don’t have any magic in your life. You have to find it somewhere to keep from going batty. But I think you are an old soul that has been very sad for a long time and if I was able to help you out of that, even for an hour, I’m happy I could help you back. But what you did for me was more than I could ever do for you.”

I shook my head to the negative and I felt the sadness creep up on me again. If he cared so much, and if I did so much for him, why couldn’t he just make a promise to me that he would come back someday? Was I so undeserving? Was it really as silly as it sounded? I mean, we were two human beings. Why did it matter so much about the stereotypes of the world? I felt like the peasant who fell in love with the prince and everyone around him was telling him how the peasant girl was not good enough or have royal enough blood to be with him. If only more princes stood up to those people and broke the bonds of society.

“What are you thinking right now?” he asked when I didn’t respond.

I flicked my gaze to his. “You don’t want to know.”

My thoughts piqued his interest and his eyebrows shot up. A hint of a smile played on my own lips but I didn’t want to feel happy.

My brain worked quickly, searching the corners for some viable excuse. “I was feeling free.”

“What do you mean by that?” he asked quietly.

“Well, I am able to make my own decisions, except when a movie star takes me out with his car and I’m forced to stay in his hotel room.” I heard him laugh out loud. “But I’m pretty in control of my life. Yes, I have bills that are late, most people do. I can choose who I take with me to dinner. I can choose what clothes I wear. I can be who I want to be and it’s okay. But you…you have expectations to live up to. You are forced to put your own life last for the entertainment of millions of people. You can’t be seen in public with people who aren’t of a certain status. You are forced to vacation in tiny mountain towns to escape cameras. While I might envy your bank account, I’m much freer than you are.”

I stood then and left him on the couch headed for the bedroom. I paused before I passed through the doorway and looked back at him just staring into nothing, the muscles of his jaw leaping as they clenched and unclenched.

“I told you that you didn’t want to know…” I muttered and went to lie down.

The Art of You Part2

Parade America 169

 

 

 

 

 

 

He looked straight into the lens of my camera. I was several hundred feet away from the man and he still saw me. I gasped and turned in the opposite direction.

Now I had heard of these movie star types from Hollywood that loved coming to Idaho. And why wouldn’t they? There is a little of everything here. I mean, you walk ten steps in any direction and scenery changes from urban to rural, from mountains to desert, from prairies to bluffs. Everything is here in this little state except the ocean, so we have lakes instead. Wildlife is abundant and recreational land is generous.

I suppose it had just shocked me. It isn’t everyday that a man you see on the big screen, one who wins award after award and lives the big life just shows up on a boat dock in a small removed town. He just seemed so…out of place.

And were those his kids? My head screamed at me.

I let out my breath after finally realizing I had been holding it for a while. That was my cue to head back to my little apartment.

There was no way I was about to stow my camera now. If I could get a great shot or two, it would be worth some dollars for my collection. Nope, that baby was staying out the rest of my trip.

I passed the grocery store and stopped in for a salad and water. Of course, I wandered the aisles a while and chose a few things that probably were not the best for me. I didn’t really care that much.

The first thing I did was race out to the balcony and act as though I were just watching the scenery, but I was combing through all the people to see if he was still out there or if he had just been a figment of my imagination. There were no bodies on the docks in the marina any longer. I put my camera up to my eye and brought the beach into focus. I didn’t see him at all.

Fearing I was crazy, I walked back inside and pulled the drapes. I lowered the Murphy bed that sat snug in the wall until it sat firmly on the floor. Grabbing my camera and plopping my body down on the soft mattress, I hit the review button.

There he was. I could not have been crazy. There was no denying that this was the very sexy, very handsome actor I followed on the screen. Jack.

I sighed and dropped my camera to the mattress. I had one photo of him and it wasn’t the best. I knew I could do better. These pictures could pay my mortgage for several months!

I sat there and plotted in my head when I should wake up, where I should go first, and how I could track Mr. Movie Star down. He would never know I was there, my lens was that good. Except that he seemed to know when my camera had been pointed at him earlier, but that was purely a coincidence.

I laughed out loud at my own stupidity and fell over backwards on my pillow.

“Just work twice as hard, Ruby. You don’t need his photos,” I told myself.

The evening went by quickly, compliments to the television. I ate my salad on the balcony as I watched the sun set behind the mountains. Every few minutes I would snap another shot as the colors developed above the tree line. The surface of the water became like diamonds, glittering and sparkling at me. I shivered when the breeze tickled my skin and the heat from the sun dissipated for the day.

Leaving the sliding door open and closing the screen, I surfed the guide for a movie. I figured I would look to see if one of Jack’s movies was playing. There were a couple on, a superhero flick that was about over and a mushy romance of star crossed lovers. I plugged in the channel and sat back to enjoy the next couple of hours.

Taking out my phone, I sent a text message to my boys: Made it safe and sound. Love you guys.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when my phone buzzed a few minutes later: Cool. Luv u 2.

I smiled and plugged the thing in to charge.

I was running away. Finding it near impossible to move, I kept struggling just to put distance between myself and whatever was following me. It was just black. Just empty. It had no shape or identity, but I was quite afraid. Out of nowhere, a voice shouted out to me and grabbed my arm. I screamed and was moved roughly to the side as the blackness devoured everything. I looked over at the man who grabbed me and it was Jack. He spoke to me and I couldn’t understand his words. It was like he was speaking a different language. We slipped into a building, dark and deserted. He was still talking to me, his mouth moving and nothing coming out. I tried to read his lips but I just nodded in agreement instead. A loud crash sounded and he shouted out to me, taking my hand and running with me again. The blackness seemed to find me no matter where I went or how much I tried to hide from it. But every time it sought me out, Jack would grab my arm and take me down another path to another hiding place.

It was still dark when the lilting sound of the waves filled my head and I woke up. I wondered briefly where I was at and then it all came rushing back and my breathing returned to normal. Grabbing my phone, I hit the button on the face and it burst into light searing my retinas. I blinked to relieve them and focused on the time. It was only four in the morning. The sun wouldn’t even be peeking for another hour and a half at least. So I rolled over and closed my eyes in hopes that I would sleep again.

But alas, I merely tossed and turned until the sky began to lighten. That was when I slid out of bed and hopped in the shower. I dressed quickly and towel dried my hair a second time, letting it fall where it wanted to in the casual pixie cut that adorned my head. It was a lazy cut, but easy when being casual and fun when I wanted to be fancy.

It was then that I looked at myself in the mirror. Who was that old woman staring back at me? How could I have possibly changed so much in such a short amount of time? The youth in my features was being replaced with deeper lines around my eyes, rounded cheeks and a slight redness to my skin. Of anything, my eyes stayed the same, large orbs like the green of the ocean, twinkling and bright when I was happy, dull and dropping when I was sad. They hadn’t been very bright for a long time…so long, that I had forgotten what they looked like any other way than sad.

I sighed. All I could do was plaster my face with makeup. It was an improvement, but it would all sweat off by noon. I shook my head.

Feeling like I could start my day, I decided to head to the beach and snag some pictures of the sunrise.

I walked around to the Mile High Marina’s boardwalk and stumbled my way down the dock floating in the water. The sun was rising, the golden light of morning washing over the lake, the sand on the beach changing colors from a blue-gray to orange and then to gold. There were large puffy clouds drifting over the horizon that looked like vanilla pudding against the morning’s blue sky.

Closing my eyes, I breathed deeply of the fresh air, still just a tad chilly. Nowhere else on the planet could it possibly smell so clean. A boat’s motor roared to life somewhere in the maze of docks behind me and to my right. I spun in surprise, but I couldn’t tell which boat was going out. The waves started sloshing as the boat’s engine disturbed its calm.

Shoving my camera to my eye, I focused in on one boat and then another and another, until I saw a little movement aboard one vessel. Slowly, it started to back out of its resting place. It was a large boat with fancy yellow stripes on it that ended in smart swirls of happiness. There was a tall canopy of red over pristine white seats. As they came out of the no-wake zone, the boat suddenly lurched forward, the water crystal sheets coming off the bow, the sun catching the droplets in mid-air like jewels.

I heard myself laugh and set the camera to the action setting. Then, I pointed the lens at them and held the button down, listening to the sound of the click, click, click of the shutter as it took one photo after another.

It felt like the small town gave a stretch and a yawn and the inhabitants slowly began to crawl out into the glory of the summer morning. Butterflies fluttered about and the occasional bee buzzed by. I basked for hours before deciding I would go for a drive.

If you deserve it, I’m giving you the bird…

a bird in hand

It probably seems like I’m not here at all anymore. Truthfully, I have been pretty frustrated and left with a really bitter taste in my mouth.

I write because I love it. I don’t write for you to tell me how much I suck at it.

I write to clear my brain of the lives and stories that haunt it. I don’t write so that you can make me hate the human race because you are so stupid.

I write to motivate, to empower, to bring your emotions to the surface. I don’t write so that you can dismiss what I have to say like it didn’t take me an entire year to write that book.

Am I licking my wounds? Probably. Am I sick of fickle damn people who don’t know how to be constructive? Am I tired of other authors yapping about how much they want their own dreams to come true with their writing and won’t do a flipping thing for another author? Yep. I’m pissed.

Do I care if I ever write another book as long as I live? Not today. Even for as much as I love to write, my time is so precious to me. Most of the time, I spend more time with other writers’ work than my own and they have no idea the amount of time I lose on their behalf. I spend the extra hours to prepare my own work for all those people who are “dying” for a copy and then have none of them even read it.

So for any of you waiting for that last book in the Aspen Series…I will get to it when I can. When I feel the love. When I know my time means something to another soul on this planet.

I have given this several weeks to chill out and every time I go to get on here, I just get mad again. You know, I have read some pretty crappy stuff in my time and I’m sorry, but mine isn’t even THAT bad on a rough day. But since I don’t beat the daylights out of my characters for fun or have the brain for fantastical science fiction, my work is boring. My work is terrible. My characters are bi-polar. Well, I don’t think so…unless I’m bi-polar, because some of my characters are modeled after my self or people I know. Doesn’t mean we are twins, but we think the same. I put myself in the situations and react accordingly. So if my characters suck so bad, I suppose I’m a rotten person. I suppose I think irrationally. I suppose my own whirlwind romance with my husband means nothing except that I am desperate.

Well, I bite my thumb at all of you who get your pleasures out of being an absolute idiot! It isn’t my fault that you have absolutely no imagination or attention span to read a novel. Go back to the kiddie section and read those, but quit wasting my time with your BS.

In this world we live in, there is no “you scratch my back, I scratch yours”. It is “let me read your book and make it look so much worse than mine”! There is no “Hey! I went to school with you, I’ll read what you have to say”, it is more like “even though we are family, I think your dreams are dumb”. And there is no “Hey! I loved your characters and your story! Let me tell Amazon all about it!”, it is “Uhhh…people will make fun of me for liking and INDIE author, so yeah…no”.

You could say that I’m overreacting. But I feel that writers are subject to abuse no one could ever understand…except maybe actors/actresses. However, the words come from the writers. Actors just bring those words to life. Publishers are so under-appreciated, it is ridiculous! If you actually read my rant to the end, open a new tab and send your publisher, you know, the one who forfeits long hours day and night to read, format, and publish your work, and tell them how much you love them for it. That as an author, you won’t give up on the faith they had in you when they put out your book FOR YOU! Apologize if you were ever a total jerk to them and refused to do your part.

Nope, it is just better that I take the time to regroup. I have no clue how long that will take me. No one even takes the time, hardly, to even visit…if they seem to like it, they do so from the reader page. Well, that doesn’t count. But I do have to shout out to my buddy Arthur. He is about the only who gives a shit about anyone. Thanks Arthur Browne! Your support means the absolute world to me! 😀

Meet the Cast of the Aspen Series (Part 4)

RothanCover2updated

King Rothan is that person in your life who is very centered on themselves and truly believes that they serve others. He is respected by most because his title demands it. Most fear him and loathe him for his temper and his arrogance. When he sets his eye on a prize, there are very few things that can stop him.

I once dated a man, many years older than I, and he had a very jolly personality, loved life most of the time and knew what he wanted in life. He loved my boys and taught them things that I could not. I AM a girl, you know. In fact, I had never before ripped a worm in two and put them on hooks for fishing. Never until I met him and he spent that time with my sons. While I know he cared deeply for them, I feel that he did a lot of things to impress me. To make me think he was a different person than he was. You see, he loved his alcohol. That was his downfall and that ultimately led to me moving on with my life.

I did care about him, but he cared more for his drink than he did for me. When he yelled at me one night because I begged him to leave the beers alone, that was when I saw this very selfish side. He wanted his “trophy”, but he also wanted his life to go uninterrupted. I lost that battle to Budweiser.

Why do I tell you my sob story? Because that was how Rothan came to be. This man’s actions paved the way for this king who found his false happiness within himself. That can be a good thing and a bad thing. When you are so sufficient in comforting yourself, no matter how bad you want something, you can’t bring yourself to swallow that pride and reciprocate what others are giving you. For example, a man lived alone for ten years and kept the same routine each day. A stray puppy happens upon his stoop and he feels a pang of compassion so he lets the little guy in. The puppy gives him love and attention, wagging his tail when the man would come home and licking his face with adoration. The man merely shouts at the puppy and shuts him outside so he can continue to enjoy his peaceful evenings. He thought he would enjoy petting the animal and talking to him, but it was too much effort. One day, the puppy digs his way out of the backyard and disappears forever. The man shrugs his shoulders and tells himself that he is better off without the puppy anyway, that he doesn’t need anyone.

This is Rothan.

I was the only son of my parents, so I had no choice in what I would do as I grew older. This great city was not always called Farrin, mind you. I changed the name of the city when I married my beautiful bride. I named it for her.

But marrying Farrin was somewhat of a challenge for there were many who sought to become bound into a position of power and my father decided upon Farrin. I did love her. I think back to the years we had together and a warmth comes over me. Yes, I loved her.

The day she was taken from me was the day my life ended. I cared not for anyone or anything…even my own sons. I pushed them away from me emotionally because it hurt so much to feel anything. I sent my sons away to study and be educated with the most learned monks of our time. It was then that I learned to look at things differently. I was utterly alone in the world and I just did not care.

Farrin CasleIt felt like a lifetime passed, a certain gloom having settled about my great city,  and although I entertained those of noble blood, there were many around me who held such contempt for me! I took offense to their antics and my fist came down hard on the peasants that lined my pockets with their gold. I found that I could stretch my limitations with them and they would beg me for mercy, cowering before me like children and I loved it. I found myself often goading them just to see them squirming in desperation.

Everything lost its luster. My days felt bleak. I missed my Farrin.

And then it was on a pilgrimage that I happened to meet one soul who pulled my thoughts from the depths of Hell and showed me there was more out there. There was that light that could make you chase after it. I did chase. I ran and I ran until I was angry! That opportunity was taken from me by the most greedy, most obstinate lord of a southern village in MY territory. And like a fool, they lost the light. Snagged from right beneath his nose.

I felt something then. It was akin to the feeling I had when Farrin passed away. The despair and the panic gripped me and I did the only thing I could do; I banded with the very lord I despised. He was the only way we could be victorious. This man was not a fighter, he was not much of a leader either. He raped his own peasants because his title gave him a right to use any means necessary to govern his village. Most ruthless, I must say.

Ah, but alas, I found myself in quite the predicament and took up my sword to fight beside him. I will admit, I came to care for the bastard, I really did. However, he held something that belonged to me and I had to retrieve it. I began to put my plan, my very witty plan, into motion as we camped on the ground and ate off the land. For months, my mind turned, my eyes seeing the reward when it all came about.

War divides people. Where I was confident that I had allies, I had none. So, again, I was forced to do only what I could and that was to stand with the men that supported me and followed my orders. Everyone else, I cursed to Hell.

I remember seeing that gift before me…my hand outstretched with the sun on my rings nearly blinding me with its brilliance…That was the moment my heart began beating again and blood flowed through my veins at long last. My world became infused with color where before it had been void. Tears were falling and others around me wailed in sorrow, but I couldn’t stop until I secured what I had been after for so many years! I would not stop until my fingers closed around her, this one whom I played like a stringed marionette.

Rothan

I am not so sure what else to say on this man’s behalf. Rothan stands for all those people living lonely, shallow lives that don’t know how to care for others. They live in the moment, but always seek out those things which they desire. Look out! You might be the next conquest for another. There are more Rothans in this world than we could fathom. We see it on the news daily and we work with these kinds of people. We trust in them blindly and often get hurt by them. Guard your heart and don’t be too quick to fall into their trap!

Who do you picture as Rothan on the big screen? My pick is the very ingenious Oliver Platt. He won me over in The Three Musketeers many years ago and if he just had lighter hair and blue eyes, he would be perfect. I think Mr. Platt had that ability to exercise an air of arrogance with a little smugness and serve it all up with a side of being the master in charge. He has such a commanding way about him. Love him. However, I do feel that the man who posed for my photo shoot did a great job in capturing the essence of the king. He appears so…kingly and holds that look in his eye. The one to make you shiver a little in trepidation.

Looking for something new to read? Here are some links to help you out:

The Aspen Series (All five books on one page for download)

All books are eCopies unless stated otherwise…

Noble Courage: Book One of the Aspen Series  (paperback rights are about to expire.)

The Price of Power: Book Two of the Aspen Series  Paperback copies available HERE

Tears of Penance: Book Three of the Aspen Series  Paperback copies available HERE

Salvation of the Forgotten: Book Four of the Aspen Series  Paperback copies available HERE

The Benevolent Light: Book Five of the Aspen Series  Paperback copies available HERE

Tales of Elgolan: Prequel to The Aspen Series  Paperback copies available HERE

Meet the Cast of the Aspen Series (Part 3)

Rayven edit

 

 

 

 

There is always a part of us all who is the rebel. Somewhere deep inside, we have a dark side that we choose not to explore. However, there are some who are just born dark and enjoy partaking of the evil deeds. What would a great story be without that rebel or evil doer? It would be pretty boring, I would think.

In the beginning, my story was going in one direction and suddenly took another. Rayven St. Michael was never going to be bad. But he changed as I fell in love with Thorne. My storyline started to wrap around itself a lot! Making the fair headed, light eyed boy be my villain was the best decision I made in this series. We all love to hate him.

I would say that most people would look upon me as weak. I was small in stature, I was thin. I appeared an angel to those who did not know me. But my father knew me. I was a disappointment to him and he let me know that. Yet, I was his heir. There was nothing he could do to change that except death.

I learned early that there should be no mercy for anyone or anything. My father never gave me any so no one should get it. Apologies and tears were simply shams to manipulate you. My heart has never been anything but hard and calloused toward others. They never cared for me, there was no reason for me to extend compassion to them. In this world, I was alone.

Being the first born son to an earl came with responsibilities that diminished my childhood and I found that as I grew old enough to be away from the castle at times, I would do the kinds of things I was forbidden to do at home. No one would ever dare say a word against me, but they would look at me as though they pitied me and I hated that. I was not allowed to be a normal child in any sense of the word. So as my anger flared at tenants of my father, I would take their animals…the dear ones they loved…and kill them just for the feel of it in my hands. That would teach them!

rosehill

My father was a very ominous man. He felt he needed to be…assertive to get where he wanted to be. When I was very young, he waged war on his sister’s family in Cliffehaven. He was not victorious and caused a great scandal. In the process, he killed his brother by marriage, his own sister, and my uncle’s heir. He just missed one. That little urchin of a boy escaped and came back to rule his people in utter darkness.

And as I grew to be a young man, his thoughts returned to taking that village again, once and for all…but there was a child that kept his attention. We knew the days he saw this child he was in a happy, lighthearted state. One that hadn’t always been there. I found out later that I had another sibling. A bastard sibling. I can remember my mother’s tears over the revelation. I should have accepted it, yet it made me even more angry. That child, born from my father’s greed, stole his affection from me. It always had. No, I hated that child.

And then it happened that I met her. The one girl I wished to court, to marry and have bear me children. She was a beauty with hair like mahogany and eyes like dewdrops on grass. I knew my first moment of weakness that I can remember in all my life. But she disappeared. Taken right out from in front of me and given to my cousin who could never love her the way I could! My anger spiraled out of my control and I cared about nothing…only getting back what was mine.

My cousin is a fool! He attacked my village and thought he could kill me. Well, he did not kill me although he took my castle. He took my whole world; yet he couldn’t take me. I laugh in his face.

No matter if I sent my lovelies after him or if I found ways to infiltrate his camps, he seemed to forever slither through my fingers, keeping my love just beyond my reach.

I am a man who has died more than one time and has come back to be stronger and better than before. My life feels empty, meaningless, and wrong without her with me. Until the time of a cold steel blade taking my from this life, I will walk as a shadow through this life. I have embraced the darkness and realized that I don’t need power to get what I want. I must be as a ghost, quiet and cunning. It is he who is stealthy that lasts. An old monk once taught me that. That monk showed me that there were truly good people in this God forsaken world. He was the only person to ever accept me for who I was…or was not…without judgment.

And now, I sit and think of my daughter and son that I will never see again for I have built myself to new heights. I have been reborn…

Salvation of the Forgotten, Chapter 11

How easy it would be to silently reach down and crush the throats of all three children. He itched to do it…but even more, he wished to take from his cousin that which should have belonged to him in the beginning. Aspen would be his one day, but Dalen was Thorne’s firstborn…his heir. Both of them were treasures that Rayven decided he wanted.

Just imagine calling to young Dalen, he didn’t know any different. Cornix was there taking care of  him as he was dying and Cornix was going to take him on an outing. Rayven would lock eyes with his cousin, his hand outstretched to the child as Thorne watched his little boy walk away with his enemy, the terror and the knowing dawning on him too late. By the time Thorne would be following them, Rayven would be far ahead and he would make certain that Dalen was never found. The heartache Darktower would feel would be enough to keep him fat with happiness the rest of his days. The taking of Aspen would just make him obese.

 

Rayven young

Always plotting, Rayven St. Michael is. He is one person that does not know the value of giving up. He just doesn’t do it. There are times in the stories that I do feel sorry for him and I want him to find his own happiness. But then, I enjoy the cat and mouse between the three of them, Thorne, Aspen, and Rayven, enough that I cannot give in. Where Rayven is concerned, I must be just like him as I bring him alive on paper. Show no mercy and never give up.

So now you are probably wondering who I would cast as this young man. Well, I know he is older now, as all my stars are, but I see Leonardo DiCaprio in this role. He plays a very crazy good old boy really well, in my opinion. He has the blond hair and blue eyes…always those blue eyes…that just look right through you. If he could talk with an accent, He would be my pick for sure.

So now it is truth time…tell me any part in any of the books where you liked this villain just a little bit! Maybe others feel the same way! 😀

Looking for something new to read? Here are some links to help you out:

The Aspen Series (All five books on one page for download)

All books are eCopies unless stated otherwise…

Noble Courage: Book One of the Aspen Series  (paperback rights are about to expire.)

The Price of Power: Book Two of the Aspen Series  Paperback copies available HERE

Tears of Penance: Book Three of the Aspen Series  Paperback copies available HERE

Salvation of the Forgotten: Book Four of the Aspen Series  Paperback copies available HERE

The Benevolent Light: Book Five of the Aspen Series  Paperback copies available HERE

Tales of Elgolan: Prequel to The Aspen Series  Paperback copies available HERE