“Chance means nothing. Fate means nothing. In fact the two are sisters, holding out a snare for anyone who would listen to their beautiful words. Choice is what decides what will become of us, of you. Read a prophesy or listen to a great foretelling until the words are seared into your soul. It matters not. Only when you decide to go one way or the other, and only when you choose to live…
…this way…or that, do things start to happen.”
Excerpt from The Stories: Book One Genesis
New blog post entitled “Duality” coming this week. Please stay tuned!
A pale light streamed in through the single window, giving sight to the particles of dust in the air. Lily sat still atop a desk, looking at her feet, dangling freely. Her dark hair fell over her face, hiding her grey eyes. Across the room, Luke said nothing, and only stared blankly back at her.
“I bet you’re thinking about what I’m thinking, aren’t you?” She said still looking at Luke through narrow eyes. “Try and guess.” She lifted her head and blew her bangs back over her forehead. “No matter what you say, I won’t let you go,” she said looking straight into his eyes.
He said nothing.
“We’ve been through so much,” she continued. “I know you say I may be too controlling. Too much for you to to manage. But you know what Luke? I love you. Don’t you understand that?” Her eyes stayed on his but he still had yet to speak. He didn’t even blink.
“I’m the one that taught you to be this way. I’m the one who showed you how to be strong. I’m the one, who showed you how to stand up for yourself! When we met…you were…how can I say this? You were pretty weak.”
He glanced at her.
“A pushover. Now? Now it’s as if nothing can harm you.”
I journeyed for what seemed like days. To a place no one knew about. At least I hoped no one knew. I left behind everything but my mind and wit. And resolve. All things intangible, yes, but each worth more than the most precious diamond. My boots were muddied as I made my way to the top of the hill where I left him standing there, alone. He was afraid. Of what? Of me not returning. See, I brought something else with me. I brought him with me. To kill him. Yes. I know. How shameful. How, how morbid, right? Well, say what you will but he had to go. I was tired of hearing his voice! His face just made me want to jab something in my own eyes. I often cupped my hands over my ears in an attempt to silence him. To no avail. That shrill piercing voice. Damn it. It nearly killed me. I was tired of being strong. I tried being reasonable. I was tired of being reasonable! He didn’t care.
But her joy was smashed into bits, and her laughter was halted, as she dealt with shin splits!
No longer were things to be nothing but fun!
For everyone runs…runs from the Grun.
##
Inspired by Elizabeth Rose Stanton, Rebekah Joy Plett and of course, Bree Ogden. Underneath The Juniper Tree is awesome. Look for updates, for the Winter Issue drops December 16th!
also, MAD props to my daughter Araceli who created the first draft of Elise. ❤
##
This is Episode One of A Tale From The Land of Zuzu: The Run From the Grun
Recently, I came across a a cover song. Loved it. And of course, I was inspired by it. So I wrote the tale below. In the vain of the legendary ghost stories we have all heard, Tales From The Crypt, and campfire stories. Also, my take on the girl driving with headlights flashing behind her story. Enjoy.
“I-t’s s-o h-o-t, h-e-r-e. C-a-n‘-t w-a-i-t t-o s-e-e y-ou! <3. Send.” Carver texted his wife while filling up his tank at the first gas station he had seen for miles. He wiped his brow with his sleeve and lifted his Ray-Bans over his forehead to get a better look at the vast stretch of road in front of him.
“Geez. Thank God for air-conditioning.”
The pump stopped and Carver looked at the price.
“3.79 a gallon. Yep. That’s about right.” He pulled his shades over his eyes and remembered to grab some snacks and a drink or two for the drive. His cell went off. It was a text from his wife:
“Please be safe! Almost home, baby! <3.”
Carver smiled and walked into the store and bought a few things to make his trip a little more bearable. As the cashier, a haggard looking older man, rang his order up, Carver put on his hands on his hips.
“Boy, it’s hot, huh?” he asked the cashier.
The cashier grumbled and started bagging the items.
Carver’s brow went up and he exhaled. “Okay then, thank you. So…nothing for another, what 100 miles or so?” he asked.
The cashier cleared his throat. “It’s actually a lot cooler today. And the next station is 228 miles from here. Try and get there before the night falls. All kinds of things come out at night, ya know,” he said leaning in towards Carver.
Carver stood, bags in his hands, staring at the cashier.
“So I’ve heard. Thank you.”
He left the store.
“Seriously? Is there like a script these people pass around?” He mumbled to himself. “All kinds of things come out at night, ya know?” He said in a tone mocking the old man. “Uh, yeah. Owls, bats…geez.”
He popped the hood to double check the oil. Then he heard a sound. A thud. He peered over the hood but there was no sign of anybody or anything.
“Great old man. You got me paranoid now,” he whispered. He slammed the hood down and got in his car. “A little Deftones anyone?” he asked. He opened his soda, took a big gulp, and put the car in drive.
A few minutes later he was singing at the top of his lungs, “I feeel liiike moooooore!” Deftones. Digital Bath.
Minutes turned to hours and the sun was completely set. He was making the best of his solitude and the long trip in the desert, cranking the volume, singing louder and louder with every song.
He hadn’t noticed that it was night but when he did he took it in stride.
“Oh, well. Almost to the other stop by this time.” He looked at the clock on the display.
“Hmm…”
Only two hours had gone by. That means he had nearly two more hours of driving before he reached the station. He exhaled and drove on, turning the volume up once more. He thumbed through his iPod until he found what he was looking for. “Ah, Across The Sun.Separate Ways. Yes, thank you,” he said smiling.
The bleak stretch of road lengthened before him and he grabbed the steering wheel tight and began singing.
“Here we stand! Worlds apart, hearts broken in two, two, two!” He hit his fist against the steering wheel. “Sleepless nights, losing-“
Then he lost his concentration as he passed a young women walking on the road. He pressed the brakes as hard as he could, not thinking. He was a good, caring man. And this woman, in the middle of nowhere concerned him. The car came to a halt in the middle of the road.
“What the?” Carver looked into the rearview mirror and the girl was already running towards the car.
She reached the window and tapped on it, looking in at Carver. She was beautiful. Her dark hair lay atop her shoulders and in it she wore a bright blue and yellow feather.
He hesitated for a moment but unlocked the door. She sat down and didn’t say a word.
“Hi, I’m Carver. You…you okay? Out here? Alone?”
She said nothing just sat and caught her breath.
He remembered a few miles back seeing a car on the side of the road but it didn’t mean anything to him until now.
“That car back there…yours?” he asked her.
Again he got no response.
Sensing her nervousness he attempted to calm her.
“Look, again, I’m Carver and just know I’m happily married and us meeting here on this long and winding road is a coincidence and we’ll get you some help. I’m not a psycho-killer!” he smiled.
She hadn’t looked at him until he said psycho-killer. She turned slowly to him and turned slowly back.
“Okay,” he said and started to drive.
“Well, I’m coming back home from a long business trip away from home. I made regional manager. I would’ve flown but, you know…” the more he talked, the more uneasy his passenger seemed to grow.
“Okay…uh, you like music? I’ll tell you what. Next station is some time away. I understand you might be a little uncomfortable with all of this…so…” He turned up the volume and focused on the road.
Carver began singing under his breath and he looked through the corner of his eyes at the girl. She shook her head from side to side suddenly. He turned his head towards her and frowned as if he was imagining it.
“Did you…did you say something?” he asked, looking at her then at the road.
She said nothing.
He clenched his jaw but shrugged it off.
Hmm,” he mumbled.
A few minuted later, the girl shook her head again.
He turned quickly.
“What? Did you say-do you need something?”
She said nothing, only stared out in front of her.
The drive then started to feel longer and longer with each minute. And Carver was regretting his rash decision to pick up this stranger.
He gulped and leaned forward to change the song. He noticed her skin was clammy and she looked nervous.
“Okay. Do you need anything?! Are you okay?”
This time she shook her head as if in response to his question.
He was growing frustrated and could only think of doing two things. Stop the car and leave her in the middle of the desert or ignore her. She obviously had a harder time dealing with her car breaking down. Who knows what she was shaking her head about. Maybe she left home. Maybe she ran away from a life of boredom, seeking a new lot in life.
These were Carver’s thoughts. He was not about to leave her, so he leaned back and drove.
But once every few minutes, she would shake her head. Each time more violently than the next.
He gripped the wheel and tried his best to ignore it. He kept watch at the clock and mileage and with every minute, he came closer to the gas station and leaving this strange and very unsettling girl there. He would give her some cash and be on his way home.
He saw the lights of the gas station in the distance. Made it, he thought to himself. Made it.
He turned to the girl. “Almost.”
He turned back and once agin the girl shook her head, gripping the top of her legs tightly.
“Alright, look! Right there! There’s the store. I don’t know what’s going on! But after we hit that store…I mean good luck and everything but I mean…you’re behavior is…is pretty effed up!”
She didn’t react to his louder tone only shook her head once again and by this time the store was only a mile away.
He turned to her and shook his head.
“Psh.You know, a thank you would have suff-“
Then suddenly the girl turned her waist towards Carver and yelled in the most haunting, visceral scream he had ever heard!
“Stanton, no!”
Carver’s heart nearly jumped out of his chest as she yelled, and he jumped off his seat.
“What?” he yelled.
The girl looked behind them and shook her head.
Carver looked in the rearview mirror and his whole body shook. His eyes widened and he turned the wheel hard, loosing control of the car. “What the f-?!” he yelled before slamming his car into a steel post out side of the gas station.
The air bag deployed and Carver’s forehead was cut open, Separate Ways blasting from the speakers. He was gravelly injured.
Hearing the ruckus, a number of customers and the attendent ran out to help.
“Dammit! We got another one! Call 9-1-1!” the cashier yelled. “Call 9-1-1!”
The song blasted louder and louder.
“Sir! Sir, you’re going to be okay! Sir?” the cashier yelled.
Carver tried lifting his head and could see the girl sitting next to him, seemingly unharmed, looking down at him. This time, she nodded, and he fell into unconsciousness after whispering, “What the f…?”
“Another one? What do you mean?” One of the customers asked the cashier.
He looked at the customer then down to Carver.
“Years ago…there was a madman. Stanton Pearl was his name. He was crazy.” He looked down the long, dark and lonely road. “He killed six people in this desert. He had a girlfriend. I forget her name. Betty? Betsy? I don’t know. They say when she found out what he did, she ran from him and tried to call the authorities. She ran, shaking her head in disbelief. She didn’t make it. He killed her too. They say her last words were: “Stanton, no!” He was caught and killed on the spot. Legend says they both haunt these roads. One trying to kill. The other…trying to stop him…” He turned his attention back to Carver. “Hold on tight, sir! They’re coming! They’re coming…”
“…and if he ever hurt you, true love will not desert, youuuu…oh, nooo!”♫
Seeing Red is the “name” of the e p i c piece below and is also a line in the song The Red by Chevelle…and also the first words in the song Seein’ Red by Unwritten Law.
Point, other than the fact that I remind you that red is my favorite color and is in my last name?
Well, this is all getting so very exciting for me as a writer and I would like to share with you all this piece of red brilliance by Crystal Ord, artist and writer.
I call it L’orrah Is Pissed with a little excerpt from the book.
♦
“In your years of loneliness, you gave no power to circumstance. The strengthening of your mind, your body…your very soul…you chose to be more! Now who will you be? Now what will you choose?”
Also, here are the songs noted above. Anything with red I embrace-almost. And it so happens the latter two songs I’ve loved for a very time.
♦
♦
♦
“It’s all or nothing, nowhere left to run, are you ready for the last fight? Get ready with the war cry! Let me hear you scream like you want it! Let me hear you yell like you mean it! If you gotta, GO DOWN! GO LOUD! GO STRONG! GO PROUD! GO ON! GO HARD OR GO HOME!
Let me hear you SCREAM!”–Ozz
Dedicated to all those who have something to say, something to write, something to pray and something to fight.
#letmehearyou
In The Stories, you will see red…and legends will be reborn.
She created perhaps one of the best known characters of literature. One that would live forever and be told again and again. One that would inspire countless writers and even more debates of the meaning behind it all.
Frankenstein.
She is better known…as Mary Shelley.
She got the idea in a dream. I saw the pale student of unhallowed arts kneeling beside the thing he had put together. I saw the hideous phantasm of a man stretched out, and then, on the working of some powerful engine, show signs of life, and stir with an uneasy, half vital motion. Frightful must it be; for supremely frightful would be the effect of any human endeavour to mock the stupendous mechanism of the Creator of the world.Continue reading
Back in 2002 there was a song called “The Red” by the band Chevelle. Loved it. Still do.
I joined a site called deviantart to try my hand at some poetry and lil art pieces and my nom de plume was TheRed.
I was biased towards the song for two reasons. One, my favorite color is? Blue. No, it’s red. All the way red. The second reason, perhaps THE reason I like the color is for what it symbolizes. Blood. The blood of Christ. Without the shedding of blood, I am not saved. Praise God…He did.
So, we fast forward to mid ’10 and I came to the conclusion that I wanted to write a full-length fiction book. An image popped in my head. The image? Not really an image but more of a scene, a moving one.
A little girl in red runs through a dense banyan filled forest, breathing heavily. The scene moves to a pack of beasts chasing her, though they cannot be seen. The scenes change back and forth from the girl to the stampeding of the beasts and back…and forth until she stops to face them…and says three words from under breath: Do your worst.
The reason she was wearing red? Because it stood out in the night. So I loved it. The idea. It could only mean one thing: Little. Red. Riding. Hood. It made sense. She wanted to speak. And she chose me to write her story.
It quickly evolved into an entire story, an entire world where I carefully chose the characters that would appear in the first book and the great surprises I have for it’s prequels, Book Two:The Bridge and Book Three:Fulfillment.
In The Stories:Book One we see her not as The Little Red but as L’orrah. The name her Grandmother gave her. You’ve never seen her like this.
The red is a symbol in the entire series. You’ll see.
The red.
My Great-Great Grandfather, Miltiadis Lemos came from Psara, Greece. His name, Miltiadis means red earth.
He named his son, Milton derived from Miltiadis.
My surname, Longoria has no known accepted meaning, this is true. But upon recent investigation I found that the Basque name Gorria means… RED.
I claim that. With all my heart that part of my name means red. The first part Lon is Basque for lion.
Genealogist’s studies prove our family name is from Spain but from the Austurian region. No matter. The Basque and Austurian regions are related.
One can see…my name that I am proud of, Longoria, most likely means Red Lion.
The point? “The red. It filters through.”
Before I found out about the meaning of Gorria I planned on getting a tattoo of a red lion rampant. I have a literal red lion statue in my home. and without giving too much away, “red lion” appears in my book.
Some things were meant to be.
Destiny. Fate. For me…all God.
I’m ready. Just looking at what I’ve written here, there is NO way I’ll let this pass me by.
I…writing this to share with any who read it…that some things were meant to be.
The gifts and calling of God are irrevocable.–Romans 11:29
Tymothy Longoria. Proud member of the Twitter and Facebook #BNFF.
Of the YA Sisterhood.
#WritersAreTheNewRockStars creator.
Writer of The Sad Little Robut. Writer of The Stories:Book One “Genesis”. Writer of the Envy story in The Seven Deadly Sins Collaboration. Contributor at The New Authors Fellowship. Epic fan of music. Of Times Of Grace. Of Perception Of Intent. Of ForthAngel. Writer of poetry. Of biblical lessons. Of sayings that first help me then others. Twitter user. Facebook frequenter. Christian. Husband. Father. An inspiration for many-that’s what they say.
Jennifer, Christin, Allie, Nicholas, Tiffany K. , Nicole, Hira, Nannette, Michelle S., Paul J., Deana, M.j., Isom, Fallon, Andrea, Shawn B. Tina S., TMousner, LL, AmyRose, Rachel H., Dawn, IFollow aka Nancy, AT, Phlegyas, Shelly, Demetra, NB, Dennis, Angela Shay, Morgan, Michelle H., Jamie, Christopher, Avaedra, WovenStrands, Khloe, Rudy M., Skibby, Shredder, Sammie Spence, L.a. Shaw, Sean, Bill, Julie, Candace, K.C., River, Tiffy Coles, Tina J., Tina O., Stephen, Vickie, Keri, Amy Sandova, Heather R., Beth Ann Masarik!, Paul Mc, AmyBeth, Alba, Toby N., Nessa, Isalys, Ash, Haley, Diana I., Jenna, Penny, Kristina, Ranee D., Meg, Karly, Genevieve, Angela C., The entire #YASB and #BNFF, MY Brother, Sisters, Rusty, Steve, Bailey K., Amy D. R., Ozana, Em,.
Man. I love you guys. All of you.
I am a self-proclaimed:
nerd
writer
activist
poet
antagonist
photographer
Transformer
philosopher
singer
and most importantly of all, I am a lover, not a fighter, but I will fight for those I love. Love is, folks… I was in a band once, not anymore… No matter how many people hear what you have to say…if one person is changed, that’s all that matters. Life is what we have been given…give something back. A little is better than none. I have a special place in mah ❤ for Michael McDonald and Michael Buble. First names are coincidence, :} Also I’m the President of Robert Palmer’s “Some Like It Hot” Fan Club*.
Let’s do something.
Character is defined as what you do, how you act, what you think… when no one is watching.
This, too, is a hate free zone.
God is the Ultimate judge. Come by, visit, and see how deep the rabbit hole goes. I’m telling you it’s deep fool. If there’s no one beside you When your soul embarks Then I’ll follow you into the dark How I long for you to see Him as I do…EVERYTHING
Eímai syngraféas, proikisménos apó ton Ii̱soú-It is high time to rock this world.
Hola, Geia sou, Que pasa, vatooo! Spanish, Greek and Mexican blood make me who I am. The Blood of Jesus makes me who I want to Be.
My life can be summed up this way: Prevail Upon.
My father used to say, “Where there’s a will, there’s a way”. I tell you, reader, if God’s will, He will surely CLEAR the way.
I met my Friend, Partner, Teacher, Student, “Grasshoppa”, the Bonnie to my Clyde, in 1995. I became a father at 18, to Jubal and never looked back. Eight years after, my green-eyed monsta, Araceli arrived.
Everyone says, “things happen for a reason.”
Well, that is truth if I ever heard.
I am developing my writing skills, some inherited, some learned.
I have always been more “serious” than a “jokester”, but I can play just as hard as I work.
Music speaks to the very soul and is why I embrace that which defines me.
I am a writer, currently working on my third fiction project with a series planned.
I am extremely excited about this project. The first book is a children’s book and it was a labor of love, written for my wife.
This one, however, this one IS my dream.
You will know His name is Jesus and those that don’t care to know, well, you still will. I love God. At the age of 15, I heard the name Jesus and now, that longing to be like Him grows daily. How I long for you to see Him as I do. My name is Tymothy Alex Lemos Longoria and to quote a radio rock song,
I tried to be someone else But nothing seemed to change, I know now, this is who I really am inside. Finally found myself, fighting for a chance! I know now, this is who I really am.
Stick around…it’s starting to get gooood.
I̱ cháris toú kyríou Ii̱soú Christoú metá toú pnév̱matos ymó̱n.
I want to meet and know people with similar interests…and people with a different outlook on life…I mean how else will I understand them?
People who see other people as people and know that those people are people too.-KM
Believers…and non-believers, writers, poets, singers; those who don’t care whose around, but express themselves, out loud, nerds, headbangers, slangers, players, of the game, the “gente in the barrio” and those in the high-rise, I’d like to tell YOU a few things, the more quiet type, screamers, listeners, and those who want to be heard.
I say, throw your hands up!!!
Come all people now!
Smile on your brother, everybody get together
Try and love one another, RIGHT now.
P.S.-If you are a CHRISTIAN and you have qualms or concerns about the “type” of music I like or the way one of THEIR album covers looks. If you are a CHRISTIAN and are weary about posts on my blog or the subject matter of my book:TELL ME. INBOX me. Do NOT judge me. Do NOT claim to “know” God “better” than me. SHOW me, tell me why.
*I’m not.
ALSO. As you may already know, I’m everwhere. Here, Twitter, my Blog, The New Authors Fellowship blog, Inkpop. Find me.
If actions speak louder than words, why are we still talking? ~Me
This is the day that will live in the infirmary…or something like that.
I am part of a group on Twitter now on Facebook, called the #BNFF. BestNerdFriendsForever. My Friend and Head-Nerd, Christin Mowery, picked me as one of five people to be awarded the Stylish Blogger Award.
Christin not only are you my #BNFF, but you’re also a client.
BUT WAIT There’s MORE!!! Today I find, another Nerd awarded me this very prestigious award of awards. Her name: Burke. Allie Burke. Remember this name. REMEMBER. THIS. NAME.
So, here’s how it works:
1. Thank and link the person who nominated you.
2. Share seven random facts about yourself.
3. Pass the award on to five new-found blogging buddies.
4. Contact the winners to congratulate them.
Random Acts Of Nerd: One-a.k.a Random Fact 1:
I love music.
Music+Me=me standing on a mountain top with my sword raised to the heavens. I bow down to the Lord of Lords, in tribute for this most beautiful gift He has bestowed to me.
Anyone that “knows” me knows, I love music. From epic incarnate, Dio to times of Grace to Pavarotti. ♫♪ I love music more than writing. Yea, I said it.
Random Fact 2:
I am a singer.
I was a kid before. No, really. Like all kids I loved to sing. Thing is I kept doing it. Then I started going to church and that was where I began to sing, like for real. During services. It was one of the best times of my life-of course, it was God-given-and I cherish those memories. “I sing because I’m happy…I sing because I’m free.”
Random Fact Numero Tres:
I was in a band. Really. I was the-you guessed it, lead singer. We were called Endless. We even recorded a song ONTO A DISC!!! Lol. But really, something I can not brag about but be very proud of.
I Am…Random Fact Four:
I read magazines, newspaper, back to front. I don’t know what. It’s an o.c.d of mine. I can’t help it. Weird? Yes. Epic? I like to think so. I must admit, it’s very hard reading sometimes because of this.
Random Factoid 5:
I want to help everyone.
I was afraid to say, I will use the money from my book sales, etc for fear of being called boasful or big-headed. But, Christin Mowery inspired me to SAY what I believe to be true. I want so desperately to help my father quit his job at the maximum security prison. I want so badly to buy a fleet of vehicles and give them away to the I.S.D. or meals on wheels for oldies but goodies. So much that I want to accomplish. I want to enlarge God’s kingdom. Word.
Random Fact 6:
I worked in the same max unit penitentiary for almost seven years. I will say, it was very educational. I learned so much MORE about the human psyche. Really. Just imagine.
Random Fact Lucky Number Seven:
I am Greek on my mother’s side. My great-great grandfather Miltiadis came to America in the late 1800’s..and I am proud of this fact.
Efharisto!
I nominate the following 5 people for the Stylish Blogger Award:
Christin Mowery. It’s a given. Her name is in my book. She’s the Number One #BNFF.
Allie Burke: Epic. Her words to me were a pinnacle, a serious boost in my already confident spirit. I owe her so. Her blog has an interview with Perception Of Intent. Go.
Michelle Shaw She was one of the Firsts. The firsts to welcome me. The Firsts to support me and give so many kind words. The M.S. to my Sweet T. Also she has read the intro and Chapter One of The Stories. Word.
What do you get when you mix rainbow hair and snarky attitude? Deirdra’s not your typical teenager; she sees things.
Abandoned on the streets of London, Deirdra’s constantly been in and out of orphanages. At age fifteen, she finds herself in the last place she expects—an exclusive boarding school in Ireland. And if that wasn’t enough, the headmaster’s daughter shows her a possible lead to the answer about her abilities.
Things aren’t always as they seem, and the mystery regarding her powers goes deeper into history—and into the future—than she thought. Abilities that haven’t been seen on Earth for centuries emerge in the least likely people to obtain them.
Clues start to unearth themselves and all signs point to India, where strange happenings have been going on in the shadows of night. Could the incidents in India somehow be linked to Deirdra and her Wandering abilities?
The game’s afoot and she is destined to meet some rather unlikely allies as she uncovers the truth about her powers. But does she really want to know the truth, or will curiosity kill this cat?
Aspire No More 