The Sinner and the Serpent: Tales of Lilith and Eve

Just a quick update!

I know I’ve been absent from here for a long time again. I recently got a new job, and I’m getting used to a new routine with my daughter in daycare as well. I’m hoping to get back into writing soon. I plan on publishing “Mod Fury” within the next couple of months to Amazon Kindle Publishing.  I’m still drafting a few other stories as well. I am going to attempt Nanowrimo again this year. Let’s hope with better results. Things are much harder when you become a new parent!

In the meantime, I’m working on a collection of short stories that revolve around Lilith and Eve from Judeo-Christian mythology. I have uploaded all current stories on Wattpad FREE to read. I am working on more as well. They will be short stories, drabbles, flash fiction and poetry, whatever my muse wants! Please feel free to check it out. I also designed the cover as well.

lilitheve-cover

Link to The Sinner and the Serpent.

I’ll update again soon! Thanks for sticking with me.

Cheers,

H.K. Rowe

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Stuck in a Time Warp

It’s been ages since I last updated here. And like the last time I don’t intend to abandon this blog.

I never realized how busy I’d become being a new mom. Sometimes I’m “not” busy, and am just caught up with all the moments of my daughter. To say that my writing has suffered because of this is an understatement… but I’m not really complaining. I’m happy being a mother and taking in all the new experiences.

Someday I hope to write about them.

But I “have” gotten back into my groove. I’m catching up with my to-do list since I went back to work and got used to being a 9 to 5 professional again, as well as with my daughter now in daycare, and I have to continue my motherly duties at work by making milk for her.

Sometimes on down times at home or during my lunch break, I work on my writing. I’ve been doing some drafting lately, as well as planning out a couple of short story series.

All of the things I want to do takes time to get used to, even more so now that I have a baby, but I’m determined to get my writing out there again.

I’m hopefully going to update this soon with a more concrete writing schedule. Mod Fury is about 85% done.

Cheers,

H.K. Rowe

Lucky Number 7

I wanted to give a shout out to those who have read and reviewed my book Unbridled. I got my seventh review at Amazon recently, and I know I’m no where near some of the other indie writers when it comes to reviews, but each and every review and rating on Amazon and Goodreads means the world to me and gives me hope for the next book.

Thank you! And thank you for giving me such positive feedback.

If you have read Unbridled or are planning on reading it, thank you as well!

How about a treat? Here is a snippet from my new series, The Avenging Sisters, with the first short story entitled Mod Fury coming out this summer.

The mood mellowed with that statement, and they met each other’s eyes with mutual understanding on why they were here. They couldn’t play and enjoy themselves all the time, even though the twenty-first century made that easier. The Furies still had important tasks to fulfill; it was in their blood, and in any given moment they could resort to their darker selves if it meant saving the innocents. It was their true purpose, hunting terrible people one by one so they could bestow their justice.

And last but not least, if you just love writing, reading and blogging in general please take a moment to visit my sister’s blog: Fear Nothing, Risk Everything. She’s a wonderful, strong and beautiful soul, a great mother and even more amazing woman, and she’s fighting breast cancer right now. She’s documenting her journey through this troubling time.

If you could pop by and just give her a comment, like or encouragement, I think she’d appreciate that!

Cheers.

H.K. Rowe

Writing Status: Mod Fury

As some of you have guessed, my novel Killer Orange is currently on hiatus while I continue to go through edits (when there is time and motivation). I’d rather spend more time on it than give people a piece of crap story, of course!

In the meantime, I am beginning a short story series about the Greek Furies that I mentioned once before. I have been working on this, as well as the outlines for the other stories in the series.

I plan on releasing Mod Fury (The Avenging Sisters Series #0.5) either end of April or mid-May, which is soon. It depends on my health and available time. I just found a perfect cover image today and will be working on the design to post a teaser soon. Thanks to my editor, not many revisions are needed, so I’ll go through it again a few times and prep it for Amazon.

Unlike Unbridled, Mod Fury will not be a romance. There may be some, but it will be in the background. It is purely paranormal adventure and modern myth with kick-ass females.

Mod Fury will have a low e-book price and be KDP only in the beginning. I haven’t had much luck with other e-book sellers, so I’m sticking to Amazon for now. When the second book of the series comes out (hopefully by next early Winter), tentatively entitled War Fury, then Mod Fury will permanently be free. That’s the plan!

In the coming days I’ll post more about Mod Fury as updates arise.

Thanks!

H.K. Rowe

 

 

Excerpt Sunday – Autumn Fire

From my Work in Progress Romance novel, Autumn Fire.


The dream shifted, and Sam was staring at Jon and Dori again in their kitchen, laughing and teasing each other. The sunlight seemed to drown them all in ethereal light, so bright that Sam could barely see Jon’s face. He saw Dori’s clearly, but not Jon’s.

He was heading out, beckoning Sam to come with him. When they’d gotten in the car, Sam could feel them driving – rolling through an endless tunnel of white light, cocooned in an unknown void. When the impact hit them, shattered glass littered around him, cutting through flesh and singing through the air. When he looked up, darkness killed the heavenly light, and Jon was slumped over in the driver’s seat, the metal fragment piercing his brain, spilling out his blood into the car and onto Sam. Sam could feel his own pain dulling when he’d seen his lifeless friend.

Over and over again he saw Jon die. The dreams, the memories, the fear played on an endless loop, trapping him in an amber web of his own terror, his own guilt that his young friend had died that day and some higher power had spared him.

Suddenly, he felt very wet, and he wondered if he was covered in blood, but instead, Sam was weeping, almost endlessly, the cries of horror and agony coming out in small whimpers, echoing through the black corridor as his friend laid lifeless beside him.

He couldn’t save him. Sam had saved him once from alcohol addiction. He’d saved him and helped him, and Jon had finally become a wonderful man – a soldier, a caretaker, and a loyal friend. Sam couldn’t save him from this. No matter how much the dream looped, Sam couldn’t save Jon from a fate like this.

He was gone. Jon was gone and Sam still couldn’t breathe or think the moment he realized his friend was gone, that he’d seen his death wedged in his mind like a cancer, haunting him and making him weep.

“Sam!”

He’d inhaled a sharp breath and his eyes opened in surprise. His cheeks were wet, and he turned to Dori, whose hands were on his shoulders, bringing him awake.

“You were crying,” Dori said. “I’m sorry; I didn’t realize you were sleeping.”

“No, it’s okay,” Sam said in a small, crackled voice.

“No, it’s not. Jesus Christ, Sam. Is this every night for you? These dreams about my brother?” she asked, and she slid next to him on the couch. Her thighs lightly grazed against his, and he felt stilled from the touch.

“Yes,” he answered her, unsure of how to feel about her closeness and worry. He’d always dealt with his demons alone, and he couldn’t burden her with knowing that her brother’s death had literally changed his life. And not for the better. He’d struggled every day with it, the memories, the trauma – and he couldn’t tell this sweet woman that her brother’s death had brought him so much struggle and pain.

© H.K. Rowe

Flash Fiction Friday – Detached

*Warning: This story contains adult sexual situations and bad language. Read at your own risk.

Detached

I cupped his shaggy face and scrunched my brow. “You don’t look like him at all,” I said.

I was submissive and moist underneath his body, and he was too heady to care for my usual musings about the man I truly loved.

Continue reading

Flash Fiction Fridays – Raindrop in the Ocean

“Long time, no see,” said a familiar voice next to me. “Look at you. All grown up.”

I recognized her voice immediately. I was looking down into my rum and coke, waiting for my husband to come back from the bathroom and join me at the bar.

Of all times and of all places, I never expected to strike up a conversation with my imaginary friend.

I braved turning toward her, and she looked exactly as I had remembered her. Cheryl, with her bright red hair, olive green eyes and dangerous smirk.

She’d been my closest friend for many years – my muse, my voice of reason, and my fire to meet the confrontations I’d rather not engage.

I’d needed her so much in the past, and frankly, I admitted missing her shouting at me to get myself together, to take charge.

“There’s something different about you, but I can’t place it,” she said. I watched as she took a sip of her wine. Of course she would drink wine – red and bitter, the kind that made your lips twitch from the intensity. Cheryl was all about intensity.

“I don’t need an imaginary friend anymore,” I told her with a laugh, and after an awkward pause, she laughed with me.

“True, true, you don’t need me anymore. You do well enough on your own. You stand up for your beliefs. You embrace your passions. You can start a conversation with people without turning green,” she said. “I wonder how you managed to get this far.”

“Obviously, you’ll take the credit,” I said. I was crazy, wasn’t I? I was talking to a woman who was my imaginary friend. Maybe I was imagining this. Goodness, I hoped I was. It would probably look really psychotic to be sitting at a bar talking to thin air.

“Not all of it,” Cheryl said. “It’s not like I really left, you know. I’m always with you.”

“Yeah?” I asked her curiously.

“Of course. I’m a part of you, aren’t I?” she asked haughtily. She always seemed so powerful and confident when I was younger. I wanted to be more like her. I wanted to be her, to be a woman who was so fearless that I could do anything on my own without fear.

I rolled my eyes. “Part of my imagination, right?”

Cheryl huffed. “No dear. I’m not the part of you that you think I am. I’m the part of you that you found.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at her.

“Do you remember that time in your mother’s car. It was dark out – a clear sky full of stars and a full moon. You were staring at the moon. Even when the moon would move in the sky, your eyes would follow it on the entire drive home. You even craned your neck to see it, to make sure you did not lose the image. You heard something from the moon, didn’t you?”

I looked down at my drink at the melting ice cube. Light glinted on the ice, bright white. White like the moon. “I thought I did. But I wasn’t sure at the time. I was really young. I was lonely. I felt like the loneliest person in the world. I didn’t understand what my purpose was and why so many bad things happened to me, you know, with my dad’s abuse, and being bullied at school. I didn’t feel connected to God at church, not when people there were saying horrible things about my family. I felt really lost, like I had no faith.”

“Uh huh,” Cheryl said, sipping more of her Chianti. “That’s when you heard Her.”

“Yes, I realized later. It was Her,” I said, and I turned to Cheryl. “I didn’t realize the signs until later. Because then you came along. You whispered in my ear. You became my friend. You taught me how to be stronger, more confident. You taught me independence, that I could be a strong woman. That it was my purpose and so much more. I wanted to be you,” I blurted, and I turned away from her intense green gaze and felt my cheeks go hot. Then, I felt her hand on my arm. I looked down at her long nails painted black. The comfort was there, but the color reminded me of her intensity – Cheryl’s and Hers.

“Darling, you are me. You know the drill,” Cheryl said.

“Like a drop of rain in the ocean,” I sang quietly.

“Exactly,” she agreed. “Now, I’m sorry I didn’t come to you like I do for other people, but that’s not what you wanted. That wouldn’t have convinced you.”

“I needed a friend, a sister,” I said, feeling the tears building in my eyes.

“I am so much more than those things to you,” she said, patting my arm.

I sniffled, nodding my head. I laughed a little. “You are, and I still need you. I may have everything I need – love, family, independence and purpose, but I still need you. Some things are not always easy.”

“Nor should they be. You follow me, darling, and you’ll always have to fight for the things you deserve,” she said.

“I know,” I said, with clearer eyes now. “You won’t leave me?” I asked her, almost pleading. I looked into her eyes, and I wasn’t afraid to keep looking at her. She was usually so bright, so fearsome and bold, and she scared me sometimes, but I needed her and loved her so I kept looking. She smiled.

“I never will, as long as you need me. We’re in this together. Since you heard my voice, we’re in this together,” she said.

“They call you Lilith or Kali, and other names,” I said, and then looked around cautiously as my voice lowered to a whisper. I looked at Her apologetically, as if I’d spilled Her secret. She looked unfazed. She was proud of Her names.

“You always called me Cheryl. Why?” She asked, and She tapped her chin thoughtfully.

“It seemed to fit you when I saw you. I don’t know why exactly,” I said, chuckling a little and wiping away an errant tear.

“I like it, darling, but now that you know who I really am, I like my other names too,” She said, and I saw Her turn around, looking in the direction of my husband who was coming back from the restroom. “I have to go. He’s coming back.”

“I know. Thank you for coming,” I said, and I watched as She leaned over and whispered in my ear.

“I will always come when you need me. Even when you don’t, I’ll be here. I’m proud to watch you. You call and I will listen,” She said, and I felt Her kiss like a summer breeze against the shell of my ear. I closed my eyes, and when I blinked them open, I met my husband’s gaze. He smiled at me, and I felt my heart surge.

Like an echo in the wind, I heard Her laughter – strong, confident and sensual. “Go get him, darling. I know you have it in you.”

I smiled back. A wave of power resided inside me, instilling me with familiar warmth. I knew She had never left me. I had always known She was a part of me, as Cheryl my friend, and She had given me everything I had truly needed.

And when She had come to me that one moonlit night, I became more of my whole self – finding what I had lost, and gaining more than I will ever need.

END


© HK Rowe