Hi All…


I came across another writing prompt. This one is a little more open ended then the others have been. Tell me what do you think of this one? BTW, fiction cookies for those of you that recognize the qoute at the end! 🙂 As always Happy Reading!


“What the hell,” I shouted as a foreign noise woke me. As I surprised my kitten, Amaya, she let out a low snarl. That revving motor and the smell of freshly cut, damp grass were beginning to turn my world on its axis once more. For what seemed to forever, silence had ruled supreme on my planet.

Roughly three months ago the world around me had gone silent and dark. I had woken up close to noon and not a single soul could be found. For some reason I was left behind to witness the collapse of our once peaceful planet.

Since that day I had watched graceful spiral towers of gleaming metal collapse from windstorms. Marble mansions were no match for the fires that consumed them. The only company I had through this silent, nightmarish ordeal was that of my Bengal kitten, Amaya.

On that tense first day of silence I found Amaya in the rubble of the zoo. Amaya’s spotted tan and black fur was in stark contrast to the stone grey walls that she was surrounded by. She was the only animal there. From that day on we had been constant companions.

During the day we would fish and gather greens for food. Amaya had helped greatly when it came time to collect fire wood to keep us warm. In the evenings after we ate our fill of fish stew Amaya would hop up on my little bed and snuggle next to me. Her warmth had kept me toasty and cozy on the cool nights.

Now something was beginning to change again. I cautiously crawled out from under my covers to peer out the bedroom wind. Amaya quickly took my recently vacated spot as she went back to sleep. There was another living soul here! How was this possible? Better yet, where did he come from?

Deciding to take a risk I pulled on my fuzzy duck slippers and tattered robe. The robe was in no better shape than the sweat pants and shirt that I slept in, but any modesty was better than none. As I made my way to the back door I was grateful for the cardboard that covered the broken window panes. Carefully I pulled the back door open, praying it wouldn’t creak and alert whoever was cutting the grass.

I slowly walked down the rickety wooden stairs of my back porch and timidly approached the mower. When I reached the old property line I stopped and waited for the man to turn his mower off and acknowledge me. As a child I had learned never to interrupt or approach someone using power equipment.

After that fateful, silent day I never thought that I would have to use lessons from my youth.

It took almost a half hour for the man to look up from his task and wave at me with a cheery smile. I felt my face pale with shock as I recognized the mowing man. It was old man Thorne Crestingwaters. As a child I remember him winning contests for his flowerbeds. His yard had always been a lush green that he mowed in flower shapes. Seeing how overgrown his beds were Thorne had to be upset.

With a beaming smile on his face Thorne walked up cheerfully greeting, “Hello, Ivy! It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

As I stared at Thorne in confusion my emotions must have shown on my face. I closed my eyes and took a couple of deep breaths before asking, “Where’d you go? What’s going on,” I asked anxiously.

Mr. Crestingwaters gave me a funny look before informing me, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ivy. We’ve been looking for you for months now.”

I shook my head vigorously in denial. This wasn’t right. “Mr. Crestingwaters, I’ve been here the whole time. The entire city has been silent. I tried turning on the television only to find out that they whole world was gone. No other people were around, as for animals the only one I could find was my kitten, Amaya.

“In the last three months buildings have crumbled and glass windows have blown out. Lawns have become overgrown beds of weeds and vines,” I finished hysterically.

Mr. Crestingwaters cocked his head as he tried to calm me, “Ivy it’s all right.”

“No, it’s not! Yours is the first motor I have heard in three months! Look around you Mr. Crestingwaters!”

I could tell Mr. Crestingwaters was starting to believe me when he looked at the lawns surrounding his. The only one that looked halfway decent was mine. The only reason it was well trimmed is because I used the old push mower in my garage to keep it that way.

When people had first disappeared I found that I couldn’t handle the noise of machines very well. Every time I would try to start the gas mower I started to shake and convulse. I’m not the type who can live in a jungle wasteland so I pulled out the push mower and had taken care of the yard that way ever since. It had proven to be a very therapeutic action for me. My panic attacks lessened every time I mowed.

I watched as Mr. Crestingwaters face went from confusion to horrorified. “This doesn’t make sense. I just saw Hollis and Agave this morning!” Mr. Crestingwaters had the most adorable grandchildren.

As Mr. Crestingwaters began to panic I saw a lightning bolt split the sky in two. Before I could think to jump a deep rumbling clap of thunder roared through our little valley. As surprising as the thunder and lightning were, what followed next was even more so.

For the first time in months the streets and sidewalks were crammed full of people old and young! All of them looking disoriented and scared. Within moments a baby started to wail. That small child let off a screech that set off a symphony of noise the world over.

As I stood there in amazement I felt a soft nudge on my calf. I looked down to see the spotted furry form of Amaya. Even though I was shaking I bent down to pick her up. This many people was bound to frighten her – it did me.

As the noise from the crowd rose I slowly pet Amaya and said, “Amaya, I’ve a feeling we’re not alone anymore.”


The Run Up…


Hey all,

I finally have a release date for Reincarnated Fate. It will be April 20. As my treat to you I am letting you read the prologue and first chapter for free! As usual this book will have the double spacing that makes it easier to read for people with dyslexia. Feel free to leave feedback. As always happy reading and enjoy!

The air was chilled and the fog thick. The mist seemed to be heavy and cold – almost as though the souls of the dead were trying to cling to life. There was no wind in this, the darkest hour of the night – even the banshees had stilled their shrill cries. Ill fate abounds on nights as eerie as this. Even more superstitions ran amok about this Great Stone Circle that lay buried under moss and the heavy mist that hung in the air. Upon each pillar of the Great Stone Circle sat a proud raven –black beady eyes gleaming in the moonlight that provided a blue tint to their feathers. The ravens lent a somewhat sinister feeling to the air.

A man and woman endured the chill present in the center of the Great Stone Circle that had stood for centuries untold. The stones under the moss seemed to glow with an ethereal light. None but the two of them were on the ground and neither of them looked happy. The deep scowls on their faces indicated that they were livid beyond the point of rage. Their frozen faces resembled the cold carvings that adorned the stones around them. The heated blood roaring in their veins giving a blush of color to their pale pallor.

The woman looked to be in her mid-twenties with enough pride to match a queen. She had auburn curls and stood no more than five feet high. Her eyes were a hard brown – one might call them cold. She had on a blue kirtle with a green and gold over-dress adorned with intricate stitching as a sign of her exalted station.  With a pale complexion and sharp, upturned features her angular face was highlighted by her heavily restrained hair. The gold circlet upon her head gave weight to her proud stature. The adornments of emeralds and rubies in the thick gold chain at her waist accented her petite figure. Her diminutive figure stood erect in these age old surroundings.

The man that stood beside her was maybe five foot six with dark brown and silver streaked hair that hung ramrod straight to his shoulders. His sea blue eyes were turbulent and shone with stubborn, arrogant pride. His skin appeared to be rough from his lifestyle and the salt-water in the air. He wore black hose with a brown and red tunic. His simple tunic held none of the intricate stitching that was in the woman’s gown, even though his rank was near her own exalted one – he had even forgone the heraldry that his station allowed. He had more sun on his face than the fair creature beside him who wore a sneer upon her dainty red lips. The mist in the air was so heavy that their feet disappeared into the thick green grass.

Above them was a gathering of people with unearthly features immortalized in the mortal mind. They had aristocratic visages and a haughty, all-knowing look in their eyes. By their bearing one could tell that these beings thought themselves better than the two creatures below them.

All of them glowed with an unearthly light of the palest white. The occasional bolt of lightning blended the beings into the night sky making them invisible on occasion. The confusion in the eyes of the immortals gave the impression that they didn’t know what to do with the two mortals that stood awaiting them. In at least two of the omnipotent faces shame and disappointment were as clear as day. Clearly the Gods above thought that better could be expected of the two mortals that stood below them.

The two mortals stood impatiently on the ground in the middle of the Stone Circle, the night air around them was cool and it reflected the looks on those beings above them – although some looked downright hostile. Neither of the mortals spoke as they looked up at the ageless beings who were to declare their fate – though neither felt that anyone had the right to judge them. For that is what was going to happen on this frigid evening. This day would henceforth be known as the End Day for the man. The woman would come to refer to this as the Day of Judgment. The Gods above would forever call this the Day of Reincarnation.

After multiple minutes of silence a woman from above with flowing blond hair and cool blue eyes looked upon the mortals and spoke, “The two of you have meddled in affairs of far greater import than you realize. You have caused the alteration of time itself, and for that your fate lay upon the Wheel of Stars that is always changing. As it changes so too will your fate. This we the gods have decreed. From this day forth until you acquire wisdom your punishment is thus – Morgaine, daughter of Le Fay, from the Isle of Apples you shall be barred.

“And as for thee, son of Aurelius, known henceforth as Merlin, guardian no more, but seek you shall for that which has the power to cure. This shall you do until you find the mortal Balance between old and new. Thus have the Gods decreed.” The words of Madb, the all-powerful Star Spinner were harsh and final. The disdain in her endless gaze imbuing finality in her words.

The woman’s voice was as frigid as the arctic and the effects of her words were like ice water upon the mortals before her. Madb’s words had been declared decisively. With the pronouncement of the dreaded sentence, the man, now known as Merlin, slumped his shoulders. The weight of this judgment seemingly too much for him to bare.

The woman on the other hand paled more than her skin already was and did the only thing that she knew of. She turned her hard brown eyes from the gods above onto her companion and in tones that would make a banshee quiver shrieked, “This is your fault! Even at the end of your so-called great age you still ruin everything around me! So help me I shall chase you to the ends of time to have my vengeance upon you! By the gods above me this I swear!”

During her high-pitched rant Morgaine never noticed that one goddess in particular looked upon her in sorrow and let a silent silvery tear fall from her immortal eye. This was not the daughter that she had charged Igraine with raising. For that child had been sweet and kind. This child was bitter and full of pain and hate, her innocence nowhere in sight. How things had gone so wrong she didn’t know – but then whenever a mortal being was involved the impossible could happen. Even the unthinkable. Mortals were so unpredictable – it’s what made them so special to the gods.

On the final note of Morgaine’s rant that lone tear hit the ground letting out a lightning strike so fierce that even the immortal gods looking upon the bitter rivals felt the earth tremble. The quaking of the earth was accompanied by a wind so violent that even the Gods had to take notice. When the shaking stopped a formidable female voice uttered, “So shall it be.” Those words had even the gods and goddesses above quaking for all their worth. Of all the deities watching, only one had heard that voice in recent memory and in response the goddess Le Fay replied, “As mother commands, it shall be done.” The glistening track of her tear still wet upon her face.

With that statement the immortals faded from view and left the two rivals alone in the Great Stone Circle. Both wondering what the future would hold, both dreading it and neither were willing to admit it. Neither had the ability to bend their pride even the slightest bit. Leading to the curse that the Gods placed upon them for a seeming eternity.


The sun was bright overhead and there were a few thin wisps of clouds dotting the sky. The cries of falcons and hawks echoed from the blue sky, while in the distance rushing water trickled past. All around her the teenager could see trees in bloom. Apple trees to be exact. Their blooms were pink at the moment. Later in the season they would fade to white before bearing fruit. Even at this early hour the sweet scent of apples was in the air.

The young woman was wearing jeans, a brown and pink plaid flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows and a beat up pair of white sneakers. She had long curly auburn hair and cinnamon brown eyes that shimmered with gold. A thick, black ponytail holder held her hair in place.

She was currently in the middle of her family’s fifty acre apple orchard. Turkeys and pheasants were ten acres south on an adjoin plot of land, grouse was nowhere to be found. The name of the family farm was Divine Fruit Orchard. It was a name that always struck the young woman as odd – it didn’t exactly roll trippingly off of the tongue.

More precisely the young woman was in the top of one of her favorite apple trees. It was also one of the oldest trees in the orchard – even a pair of hawks felt safe enough in this tree so long as she didn’t get too close to the nest.

This particular tree was a Bietigheimer Apple and family legend said that it had been planted around the turn of the twentieth century. The current time being the beginning of the twenty first century that meant that the tree was a little over a hundred years old, and it still blossomed. The fact that its large yellow harvest was striped with plenty of red when ripe also helped to make this rare fruit pleasing to the eye as well. Its high pectin content made it great for baking. This was not the only tree on the farm that would bare fruit after a hundred years of life, it just happened to be one of her favorites.

This spot in the orchard usually left Morgaine feeling content and free. But not this time. Being half asleep in the tree happened to be dangerous on a good day, but when Morgaine could barely hold her head up it was another matter altogether.

Of course the heavy bags under her eyes and slumped shoulders made sense when you factored in that she hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep in a month. It was a month exactly too.

How did Morgaine know this? Because the night terrors started the day she turned sixteen – exactly one month ago. Her night terrors overflowed with bloody battles of bygone eras, people from all walks of life, and oddest of all magic and gods. Not to mention a recurring phrase – So shall it be.

As Morgaine’s heart began to race her nerves froze. Why, she didn’t know – Morgaine certainly wasn’t prone to cold feet on any subject one would care to name. She had certainly never heard it before. She had never been anywhere to hear it – and that was another problem altogether.

For the entirety of her short life Morgaine, and her eight sisters, had lived on the family orchard. Her parents, grandparents, and her great-grandmother also lived on the orchard. Those of them that were well enough worked in the orchard alongside of the hired hands Morgaine preferred the migrant workers – mainly because they taught her about the places they came from. Locations she longed for and had never been.

That’s where Morgaine differed from her family. She wanted to travel the world and experience new sensations. From the varied states of Mexico to the renowned lights of Paris, they all beckoned to Morgaine. Most of the family just shook their head at those dreams. But not great-grandmother. That woman could be as bitter as the day was long. The Old Crone, Morgaine’s personal nickname for the foul tempered woman, tended to spout her vile nonsense to anyone who would listen.

No one in the family was actually sure of the Old Crone’s age, but they all agreed that she had no love for Morgaine. In fact if Morgaine could have a sworn enemy, than it would be the Old Crone. Nobody alive would object to the label that Morgaine quietly assigned to her grandmother.

The Old Crone would glare at and belittle Morgaine on a regular basis. If the Old Crone could find a way to put Morgaine down than she would. The Old Crone also had a tendency to strike Morgaine when she was in her more vicious moods. Thankfully she had never done any serious damage. Morgaine could swear she even heard the cawing of crows when just the two of them were present. Which was strange considering crows were not native in this part of the state. Falcons, hawks and eagles yes, but not crows. It also didn’t help that the Old Crone was cold – and not in a turn up the thermostat type of way either. As far as Morgaine could tell the Old Crone didn’t have a heart – a soul was debatable.

These were all worries on Morgaine’s mind. She just didn’t understand why the Old Crone seemed to absolutely despise her. Nor did Morgaine understand why she was having these dreams. There had to be something she could do! What, Morgaine wasn’t sure but something would change, that was something she knew deep in her gut. If anything could be said about Morgaine, it was that no one was more stubborn or had a stronger will.

Morgaine sat there in morose silence for a few minutes longer before the wind began to blow and howling, high pitch screeches were also heard. When the gusts of wind began to whip the trees into a frenzy Morgaine looked up to see that the sky was suddenly covered in dark, heavy rainclouds from out of nowhere. This wasn’t the strangest weather pattern that Morgaine had ever seen in her life at the farm, but it was unexpected. The surprise storm was enough to put Morgaine on the defensive.

The next thing that put Morgaine on edge were not the fat raindrops that started to fall but the lightening that flashed right beside her without striking and scorching the ground of the tree she rested in. Even more peculiar was the fact that the lightning let off neither heat nor electricity. After seeing the bolt of lightning an eerie calm over took the storm and a voice murmured, “On this day remember your actions. Remember the cause, recall the Right to which you are entitled.” The oppressive air now felt like the calm before a storm.

When the voice disappeared, loud, high pitched wails and screeching echoed in the distance. The ear splitting commotion was enough to wake the dead. Morgaine began to get dizzy to the point that she would have sworn the trees were running in circles around her and the ground was rushing up to meet her. Her head felt like it was ready to explode into a million little fragments. Whatever was happening it wasn’t going to be good, this Morgaine knew as surely as she understood that apples and baking were her life.

Just as suddenly as the freak storm blew in, it stopped. Now Morgaine was suffering from a migraine, dizziness and nausea, as well as being wet from the rain. This was just great. Morgaine didn’t think that this day could get any worse. She didn’t know just how wrong she was.

Morgaine rested in the tree for several more hours as she didn’t have the strength or will to move. As Morgaine stayed in the tree her mind began to clear from whatever sudden illness had grabbed a hold of her and fill her head with random images from her night terrors. At first these images terrorized Morgaine. But once they settled down Morgaine realized they weren’t images at all. They were memories. Memories that she didn’t necessarily want.

They were images of what she had been and all she had done in her numerous lives. As she concentrated on these memories Morgaine realized exactly how far back they went and what she once was. Finally her mind settled on one set of memories alone and when it did Morgaine’s nostrils flared and her cinnamon brown eyes hardened until they were ice cold. Because if there was one thing that Morgaine was going to do it would be tracking him down.

Morgaine would track down Emrys Aurelius, known as the advisor Merlin, and she would make him pay for his crimes against her. This she would do or her name was not Morgaine Le Fay. This Morgaine swore on every life she had ever lived and would ever live.

Morgaine would see that the Roman dog would pay for trying to keep the ways his foreign ancestors had bought with him to a land that was Morgaine’s by birth. Morgaine would not rest until the Roman dog returned that which he had taken. This she vowed.

Reincarnated Cover

This is the chosen cover for Reincarnated Fate.

Old Ladies on the Run…


I ran across a prompt and came up with this. It’s less than a thousand words. What do you think. As always, enjoy!

Old Ladies on the Run.


A sterile room smelled of antiseptic. Faded flowers decorated walls and threadbare carpet lined the floor.  Round laminated tables were scattered about the room. Some tables were occupied and others weren’t. Under a flickering fluorescent light three white heads sat huddled around a laminated table whispering fervently back and forth. “Alcmene, what are we to do? It’s all over the news! They’ll find us,” one white head whispered frantically.

Alcmene raised her sharp brown eyes and replied, “We run, Drusilla.” Alcmene’s brittle voice was steady. As was her mind.

The third woman snorted before retorting, “In case the two of you forgot, we’re 90 years old in wheelchairs. We’re not going to get far.”

Alcmene rolled her eyes before replying, “Would you rather we stayed here and get caught, Henrietta?”

“Not particularly. I don’t fancy spending what little life I have left behind bars for doing what needed to be done,” Henrietta explained. Her pale blue eyes reflected the bare bones honesty in her statement.

“None of us do,” Drusilla whimpered.

With a huff Alcmene snapped, “Quit whimpering, Drusilla. We’re leaving and they won’t find us.”

“That’s what you said sixty-five years ago! Now look what happened! The police tore down your house and found the body,” Henrietta snapped at her long-time friend.

Drusilla whimpered at the harsh tone from Alcmene.

“Enough with your tears, Drusilla. We have to hurry if we want to leave before the police arrive with a shiny pair of bracelets for us,” Alcmene snapped.

“She has a point, Alcmene. We live in a nursing home. It’s not going to be hard for the cops to track us down,” Henrietta forcefully put in.

“It’s a private nursing home Henrietta. We’re safe for a couple of hours. Besides, we’re on the ground floor and our chairs are motorized,” Alcmene impatiently reminded her two cohorts.

“We won’t get far,” Drusilla whispered as tears started to fill her pale green eyes.

Alcmene smirked as she assured her friends, “You leave that to me. I called Ajax two years ago for modification on our chairs. All we have to do is make it out the front door and we can take these chairs on the freeway.”

At the mention of Ajax, Drusilla smiled dreamily. With a lusty look in her pale green eyes Drusilla asked, “Such a strapping lad, that Ajax. He has proven to be the only good thing Salvatore gave us. Why didn’t you tell us you called him?”

Alcmene shrugged her shoulders as she stated, “Pack your overnight bags, girls. We’re going on a trip.” The excited light in all of their eyes couldn’t be missed. They hadn’t left this nursing home in over a decade. The old ladies were looking forward to this adventure.

Twenty minutes later each woman had a bag and was parked in front of a door labeled back garden. Each of them had a floral backpack on their seat backs. The back garden had the only unlocked door in the facility and on occasion the orderlies would let them sit in peace amongst the flowers. All they had to do was wait for someone to open the door.

After a few moments a burly male nurse came over and greeted, “Good afternoon ladies! Would you like to enjoy the sunshine for a bit?”

Alcmene nodded her head once as she smiled and answered, “Thank you Julian. The weather is so pleasant today. The sun hitting the flowers reminds me of my garden.” Henrietta and Drusilla giggled at Alcmene’s reasoning. Alcmene’s garden had always been the one place they could hide their secrets.

Julian smiled at the three elderly ladies as he punched in the key code. As the sun filtered through the door the ladies smiled brightly. Once the door closed behind them the ladies slowly rolled to the wrought iron gate that surrounded the garden.

Henrietta looked both ways while Alcmene slowly opened the gate hoping to avoid a squeak that would give them away. Once the gate was open the ladies exited the grounds of the nursing home in a single file.

As they went down the sidewalk the ladies slowly began to talk about the reason for this trip.

“I hate that man. Even after sixty five years he haunts us,” Alcmene grumbled.

“Tell me about it. It’s almost like his ghost doesn’t believe that he earned his dark fate,” Henrietta agreed.

“His actions were almost barbaric. Really! Marrying all three of us? Salvatore had to know that we were going to catch on,” Drusilla put in. Talking about what Salvatore had done always stopped Drusilla’s whimpering. Those actions were the one thing that straightened her spine in righteous indignation.

The mere mention of Salvatore had both Alcmene and Henrietta frowning in anger. Before either of them could comment, the geriatric trio heard the piercing sirens of a cop car. Simultaneously the old women reached up to their ears and turned their hearing aids down.

Henrietta and Drusilla turned to look at Alcmene. Alcmene gestured for the other two women to lift the plastic plate on their arm rests. Underneath those plates was a flat red button. When Alcmene pushed the button her wheelchair roared to life.

In under three seconds Alcmene went from sitting with her friends to being halfway down the block with a smile on her wrinkly face. Her wheelchair roared like a motorcycle. When Henrietta and Drusilla saw how fast Alcmene went, devious smiles formed in the crags of their faces.

Without a care in their aged minds the two women followed Alcmene’s lead. As the wind whipped through their white hair the three women zoomed down one street and then another. They took the corners on two wheels. Throughout their daring ride broad smiles never left their lined faces.



I’ve finally finalized my cover for my latest project. As you have seen I have gone through several ideas on what this book should look like. I have been told that the cover for this puts the reader right into one of the scenes of the book – which I will have updates for you soon on publication date. As always, Enjoy and Happy Reading! This book is coming soon and will be entitled REINCARNATED FATE. It may annoy some people but I will continue with the double spacing as it makes reading the paperback easier for those with dyslexia. That and it doesn’t hurt my eyes to read it with a little more space in the lines either! Anyways, what do you guys think of the cover??

Reincarnated Cover

This is the chosen cover for Reincarnated Fate.

Had to Share!!!


Hi all!!

I had to share the good news. Reviews of my books (which can be found here http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B00K43MOSO) have started to come in and so far they are 5 star. One of them had this to say –

By Vivian Weissman

This review is from: Sweet Confections (Kindle Edition)
I kept rooting for Regan! She definitely needs a break in life. Great layout of the book and it was easy to read and follow along with the storyline.
This is quite a bit of encouragement. Remember I keep the formatting double spaced for a reason. Everyone desrves a chance to enjoy a good book.
If you would like to read something more by Vivian try this site. http://vivianfitness.com/coaching/
Have a good night all.

“We’re being led by an idiot with a crayon”


This was a prompt from someone and I thought you might enjoy it. After some of the early praise on a scratch idea, I am considering turning this into a kids story/series. ENJOY!!


“We’re being led by an idiot with a crayon,” shouted a dark haired child with sharp features.

“I’m not an idiot,” roared a white haired, muscular toddler who was waving his gold crayon wildly in the air.

The dark haired child stuck her tongue out and retorted, “Yes, you are, Zeus! You made Grandmother mad and she turned us into this!”

“It’s not my fault Hera,” thundered Zeus as he pointed his crayon at her.

“Yes it is,” another squeaky voice insisted. This one had a pale blue spork in his hand.

“Thank you Poseidon,” Hera replied imperiously.

“He was being mean again Hera. You don’t have to thank me for that,” Poseidon pouted while banging his spork on the ground.

Hera rolled her dark eyes and stomped away from her brothers as fat crocodile tears welled up in her eyes.

A blonde haired child ran up to Hera and gave her a blue and green sea shell necklace.

Hera arched a toddler sized eyebrow and snorted, “Really, Aphrodite. Sea shells?”

Aphrodite nodded her blonde head and sweetly replied, “Love will save the day, Hera. It always does.”

Hera frowned as her crocodile tears fell. “Tell that to the gold crayon waving bully.” Hurt was obvious in her high-pitched voice as she stomped her feet.

“He’s a boy Hera. He likes to pull your hair,” Aphrodite soothed.

“He picks on all girls,” Hera cried.

“That’s what boys do,” Aphrodite tried.

Hera hiccupped before crying, “Nu-Uh! Zeus was being mean again! That’s why Grandmother Gaia turned us into kids,” she finished wailing.

“You need a nap,” a bronze haired child said from behind Hera.

“Go away Athena,” Hera snapped as her crocodile tears dried on her cheeks.

Athena cocked an eyebrow and calmly stated, “You are throwing a tantrum because of an idiot waving a gold crayon.

“Wisdom dictates you need a nap,” she finished calmly.

From across the room Zeus screamed, “I’m not an idiot!”

Hera rolled her eyes before snapping, “Nobody likes a know-it-all.”

“You’re losing your temper, another point in my favor,” Athena reasoned.

Seeing Hera’s dark features begin to cloud over in anger, Aphrodite cut in whimsically, “No one has to get mad. If we rest, surely Morpheus will guard our dreams.

“Who knows, when we wake we might be big again and then I could wear a pretty dress and sparkly sandals.”

Athena shook her head at Athena’s nonsense as she walked away to a far corner.

Hera looked at Aphrodite in shock. “Do you ever think of anything besides what to wear?”

Aphrodite smiled brightly and said, “I’ve been turned into a three-year-old. It wouldn’t be right to think about going on a date with Ares would it?”

Hera rolled her dark eyes before stomping away with the sea shell necklace she had been given. Without warning Hera screamed at the top of her lungs, “This is STUPID!” Her high-pitched shriek had the boys in the room covering their ears.

As Hera started to stomp her feet she heard a huff behind her and a wet tongue licked the back of her neck. As her shrieks of disgust filled the room, Hera turned to find herself facing a three headed dog.

“Gross! Hades tell your dogs to leave me alone,” Hera commanded.

Hades black eyes glowed the color of sulfur before he replied, “No can do. Xerxes is a boy dog and when girls are upset he gives them kisses. It’s his way of making you feel better,” Hades finished with a pale smile.

Hera scowled at this, as Xerxes gave her one more body sized doggy kiss that left Hera covered in slobber. The smile on Xerxes’ face was unmistakable as he continued to watch over his youthful charges – sometimes it was good to be the pet of the God of the Dead.

Just so you know


Hi all,

I thought I would clear something up for a minute. If any of you have purchased my works on amazon (which you can find here http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B00K43MOSO) you will have noticed one major difference between my publications and others. All of my books are double spaced. This is in both the print copies and the Kindle copies. I have done this for a very interesting reason. My husband is dyslexic and he finds it easier to read them in this fashion.

According to him, since the words are not scrunched together on the page he can follow them easier and not get lost.

So if any other people have trouble reading a traditionally published book and are finding it difficult, give mine a try.