Monday, November 7, 2011

The Liebster Award ~ Again!!

I am so very thrilled to have received another Liebster Blog Award!! This award is to recognize talented bloggers and blogs out there that are just getting started~ those with under 200 followers. 
Thank you so much to Theresa over at 
T.R. Stoddard's Writing Refuge  ~ Head on over & check out her blog!!

I now get to choose another of my 5 favourite blogs! I am so excited to do this, because I follow so many awesome writers~ it was so difficult to only choose five the first time!



So, the Liebster Blog Award goes to these five bloggers!! Please check them out & don't forget to FOLLOW them!!!


David McDonald   Feather and Parchment 

Patti Larsen            Patti Larsen ~My Writing Life

Amy Rose             Word Lust

Antimony               Thoughts, Musings and Broken Promises 

Mireille Chester    Forever Lost in My Own World


Don't forget-  In accepting the Liebster Blog Award, the recipient agrees to:

- Thank the person that gave the award and link back to their blog

- Copy and paste the award to your blog

- Reveal the 5 blogs you have chosen to award and let them know by commenting on their blog

- Pay it forward by accepting and awarding it to bloggers they would like to honor
 

Saturday, November 5, 2011

Under the Influence

It was 2 o'clock in the morning; Dylan crept silently to the kitchen, he needed a drink. Never-mind that he had promised her no more. That promise was now null and void; she was the reason he needed it. That burning elixir hitting the back of his throat would make him warm all over and numb the pain of her absence. He knew just how to make the ache subside, how to fill the emptiness in his chest where his heart had been before she had ripped it out. Tears welled up in his eyes and pain shot up through his skull. She had done this to him. Made him hurt, and he still loved her.
Liquor would change that. It changed everything.

There was a bottle no one knew about on the bottom shelf of the cupboard. He had hidden it in the very back behind several jars of pickled something that had been there for years. Stolen liquor, his second favourite vice. The floor creaked as he eased into the kitchen. He glanced down the hall; light still shone from underneath his mother's bedroom door, and he heard the muffled voices from her television. If she came out, he would be grounded for the next year. Again.

But he didn't care; it was worth the risk. He had to have it. It was the only thing that would get her out of his mind, or at least blur the memory. Ashlyn. God how he'd loved her. For two years she had been his world. And now she was gone. She didn't even say good-bye. It had been three days now; Dylan had gotten out of school on Friday afternoon and walked to her flat. He'd rang the bell over and over and she never came down. He'd found out from her landlady. Ashlyn had run off with a townie, some guy she'd met at that bar she'd started working at a few months back. She wasn't dancing or anything like that, just waitressing - but Dylan hadn't liked it at all. He'd had a very bad feeling about it, and now he knew why.

He blamed himself because he had started drinking again. It started out innocently enough, it was only when he and Ashlyn were out with their friends, partying on the weekend. But then, after his father died, he started having a couple of drinks in the morning before school, just to take the edge off things. But he had a handle on it, he wasn't out of control. No one even knew about that – he'd been clever - only vodka in the morning. And then, somehow it had progressed, little by little. He'd have a drink in the afternoons to relax, and then sometimes late at night, when he had trouble getting to sleep. On the weekends, they had stopped going out with friends, and he and Ashlyn just sat in his room getting drunk and fooling around. He thought they were having a good time; at least he had been. She wanted to go out and do things; she said all he wanted to do was get drunk. She was right. 

That's when he'd promised to quit. But the very next night, when she'd come by to pick him up – well, he'd had some wine. He had gotten it out of the trash; his mom had thrown away half a bottle. He felt better than he'd felt in a while, but Ashlyn was furious. He figured she'd calm down in a day or so. But that's when she'd stopped coming over; and she'd say she had to work whenever he called. But it was every weekend and he knew she was lying.

Dylan wasn't yet old enough to get into the club where Ashlyn worked. Next month though. Next month he could go there; but she was gone so it really didn't matter. Only one thing mattered now; whiskey on the bottom shelf. Even Dylan didn't know it then, but that is all that would ever matter to him any more - for the rest of his life. 

©2011 Garden Summerland

Thursday, November 3, 2011

My First Award!

I am so thrilled and honoured to accept my first blog award! Thank you so much to M.A. Kastle !! Please head on over & check out her blog~ Inkslinging

The Awesome Award:
 

This is a pay it forward award!
I will now select my five top favourite blogs to receive this award.
Should they choose to accept, the recipients need to copy and paste the award to their blog, thank the person who awarded them, and then award their own top-5 favorite blogs with the Liebster Award!
I certainly hope that you will visit these blogs, and that you will love them like I do!
(oh, and follow them!!)
1. Caol├ín Murray     Moments

2. JT Lewis               Did I Stutter...

3. Zoe                        The Literary Imaginarium

4. Alexia Purdy         Alexia Purdy's Blog

5. Megan McDade   Reading Away the Days  

Don't forget-  In accepting the Liebster Blog Award, the recipient agrees to:

- Thank the person that gave the award and link back to their blog

- Copy and paste the award to your blog

- Reveal the 5 blogs you have chosen to award and let them know by commenting on their blog

- Pay it forward by accepting and awarding it to bloggers they would like to honor

Friday, October 28, 2011

Happy Halloween!

I would like to wish everyone a safe & Happy Halloween weekend! And to let you know that I am participating in the Halloween Hop, so graciously hosted by Jeremy Bates
So come on over & find some new friends & some fantastic blogs to hop!
And you can find Jeremy's blog HERE

Thursday, October 27, 2011

The Muse

Lily opened the dishwasher and began putting the dishes away. The flashbacks started, and she stood motionless for a moment, thinking about Calum. She shook herself from the memory and picked up an earthenware coffee cup and held it to her face, it was still warm. But she couldn't fight it; she closed her eyes and fondly recalled the way he used to come up behind her when she was working in the kitchen. He would pull her back against him, turn her around and kiss her passionately, making her forget all about whatever mundane task she had been toiling away at – those were the days – but they were over; they had been for some time now, and it was all her own fault. That was a bracing thought that brought her back to reality.

She set the cup down and lifted out the plates one by one and stacked them gently on the counter. Her fond memories were from the days when she was a writer. She had always had a gift; a magical gift. She could write scenarios and people into her life– make them real. In fact, she had created Calum; and then he had become her muse. All she had to do was type a scene, or write a few words in her notebook or journal and he would come to her, stories creating themselves. She wrote pages and pages without pause; because he set her free. He released her from the shackles of her humdrum existence, and then, over time, he became so much more. He was her inspiration, and her best friend, and then he became her lover.

He always knew exactly what she wanted, and when she wanted it. He adored her. He was romantic; he brought her flowers, and wrote her poetry. He danced with her in the moonlight. They drank wine together and watched sunsets. He kissed her softly, and held her hand. He fed her strawberries and cream, and stroked her hair as he held her on cold rainy nights. He made love to her for hours upon end, as if no one else had ever existed or ever would.

She leaned against the counter and closed her eyes again. She used to be able to summon him into existence with only a thought; and he would appear like a demon hungry to possess her soul. He would enter her mind, taking over her thoughts and then the words would just pour out from her; Calum holding her face, kissing her lips and then her neck. Calum pressing her against the cabinets, then lifting her up onto the counter top. His hands pushing up her skirt, and wandering all over her body as he kissed her mouth, slowly and hotly, seemingly for hours.
But not anymore.

The ideas had just stopped. She no longer wrote fascinating scenarios, with romantic characters that came to life and entertained her. It had all ended with the last journal entry she had written almost six months ago. Maybe because she had created a new character, James; a young handsome man with romantic interests all his own; and apparently, Calum hadn't liked it. It wasn't even a love story, it was just a few lines of free verse inspired by a dream she'd had, and Calum hadn't been back since.

She sighed and opened the cabinet to set the plates inside. She wanted to feel his hands around her waist again. She closed her eyes and tried to get the words right, but they would not come. She could picture him, and she could still feel his hands hot and wanting upon her skin, but the story wouldn't flow. It was the worst case of writer's block she had ever had. She had lost her muse. She was useless without him, and she had to have him back; today – right now. She went to her bedroom, frantically searching for the journal. It had been months since she'd had it, where had she put it?

After tearing her room asunder, she found it in the corner under a stack of overdue library books. She hastily flipped to the last entry and read the first couple of lines:

James, my love...I remember the pouring rain, drenching us both as we kissed for the first time; Standing together on the white sand, the vast expanse of the great blue ocean, stretched out before us in witness to our profession of love...

She ripped out the page and tore it to shreds. Little pieces of confetti now covering her floor, she closed her eyes once more, and concentrated. Nothing happened. She waited; and then she whispered his name. Another minute passed, and then she felt it; Calum's hot breath on the back of her neck, his hands around her waist. She kept her eyes closed as he spun her around, his mouth immediately upon hers. Her muse was back. Now she could write again.

©2011 Garden Summerland