A very late Sunday update (counts as a Monday, because it’s late!)

So I’ve been reevaluating my stance on morality.

Hm. I thought I had a whole spiel about that, but it turns out I don’t! I drew a picture that I’m not very proud of. My style is completely out of whack because I’m knocking apart and reforming my previously flawed approach to perspective. My abilities, on the whole, have not yet re-cohered from the emotional renovations, but here’s the study:

A Terrible (in my opinion) Picture

horse practice

And now, for the road, some jean-desiring fairy rebel:

(If you recall, we last saw our heroine speaking to Moffer Bones after he attempted to dump her outside the forest and block her return with magic. Outraged, our fairy rebel returned and demanded answers. She received some jeans, a hoodie, and a partial explanation. Enjoy.)

Sample

Dark Details About the Fairy Queen

Moffer Bones told me that the Queen Mother is really old, and has basically reincarnated several times by stealing power from different fairies throughout the years. He said it’s customary for the royal family to keep their position that way, and it’s a pretty accepted practice that no one gets too upset about. He said she doesn’t kill anyone, but when a powerful fairy pops up, she’ll put a charm on them and skim some of their power.

Well, you guys remember how I told you that, um—that the Queen Mother had put a charm on me to make sure that I couldn’t wear modern clothes? This was way back when she caught me wearing those boxer shorts a long time ago, and I said that she put magic on my skin to make non-regulation clothes disintegrate. Yeah, it turns out that was actually a power-seeping charm and she was stealing from me. Nasty old creep.

Also, it turns out that people won’t tell me things because I’m an anomaly and have a lot of power, and the Queen decided to send me out of the forest because I was getting too grown-up and showing a lot of potential, and she doesn’t want me to develop into a political rival.

This sounded pretty thin to me, because I’m really a backwards nobody who isn’t that great at things, honestly, but Moffer Bones laughed at me and said that the Queen Mother was in a tizzy because those trolls who visited a few weeks ago wanted me to come and be an ambassador in Europe, and the Queen was pissed off and scared because she knew (Moffer said) that if I got out of the forest and around other magical peoples, I’d figure out really quickly how special and gifted I was.

So, according to Moffer Bones, the whole credit card, human vacation thing was a trap to get me out of the forest, and once I crossed the border of the woods, the charm on the credit card would immediately start to destroy my wings—which I told you are the source of my power—and then—Oh, I didn’t say this, though.

So the credit card had a couple of different charms on it, and was a nasty piece of magic, Moffer said. The first effect was that:

  1. Once I crossed the border with the credit card in my hand, I would turn human-sized, and the second effect was that:
  2. My wings would start to burn up.
  3. Also, Moffer Bones told me that the Queen was probably aiming to make sure I couldn’t enter the woods again, but that since his spell to keep me out hadn’t worked, the Queen’s wouldn’t either.

Moffer Bones said that he’s a good bit more powerful than the Queen, and that unless she’d managed to discover some dark form of magic he’d never heard of, there wasn’t anything she could whip out that he couldn’t figure out or counteract.

So the end of the conversation was me going, “Yeah, but I’m not sure if I believe you about any of this.”

Moffer Bones was like, “Cool, Winstance. I have no horse in this race, but if you go back there, she’ll kill you.”

“I thought you said she didn’t kill people,” I countered.

“I said she usually doesn’t. You remember that one kid, Monacsta? Lost her wings and got turned into a statue?” Moffer Bones asked. (This Monacsta is the fairy I told you about from two hundred years ago who lost her wings for trying to assassinate the Queen.)

I said yes, I knew about Monacsta, and Moffer Bones told me, “Monacsta was powerful, not as strong as you seem to be, but gifted. The Queen was draining her and Monacsta came to me to get help in stopping it. I told her the same stuff I’m telling you, and Monacsta called me a liar and went to have a polite negotiation with the Queen about laying off with the stealing, and now she’s a statue with a reputation as an assassin. You want to be the next bit of statuary in the fairy court?”

When Moffer Bones said this, I was kind of taken aback. I asked him what his advice was, and what I ought to do, and he laughed and said, “I don’t know. Don’t go back. She’s a greedy old bat and you scare her.”

“If the Queen’s so bad, why do you live here in her forest?” I shot back. Moffer got this steely kind of glint in his eyes (ugh, super handsome eyes! Oh, and I had gotten the black hoodie on by now, over my clothes, and I started pulling my dumb old leaf gown apart and off underneath it. And. I. Felt. So. Good. Aaaah, fabric.)—sorry, I got kind of lost there.

Um, so I asked why he went on living in the forest, since he said the Queen was such a bad person, and Moffer got all grim and heroic looking, and he said, “This isn’t her forest, Winstance. This is my mother’s land.”

Then he refused to say anything more about it and told me to go away, and I could see he was pretty upset and raw, so I gathered up my scraps of used-to-be-a-dress and flew out of his window (I made some tidy holes in the back of the hoodie for my wings, in case you were wondering about that), and now, at this moment, I am sitting at the very top of the rotten oak under which Moffer Bones’ hut resides and am thinking like mad about my life.

Because gosh. I’m just not sure what to believe at the moment.

One thing is for sure: I do NOT want to be the next bit of fairy statue decorating the Queen’s flower court, so I have got a whole lot of thinking to do. I mean, right now I have my wings and all my powers. I’m not willing to risk them, and if the Queen is insane enough to steal magic or try to sabotage my standing as a fairy (which, if she was really planning to do that, what a complete meanie), then maybe the Queen also is crazy enough to spy around or try to keep tabs on me to make sure I leave the forest. I figure Moffer Bones’ is the safest spot to be for just now, because all the fairies avoid him and I think (and I’m pretty sure I’m right) that the Queen is a little afraid of him.

Part of me is like, great, I’ll go out of the forest and be a free-wheeling magic person pretending to be human, but—I don’t know. That seems pretty short-sighted. I have a lot more questions, and I really, very much want to find out what Moffer Bones meant when he said I was a ‘creature.’ Like, what kind of creature? He was acting like I wasn’t a hundred percent fairy, and he obviously knows a ton, so—right now I’m hanging out—okay, to be honest, I’m hiding.

I’m hiding inside a hollow branch at the very top of the old rotten oak, and I’m keeping an eye on the surrounding area through a small hole and reviewing my options, because jeepers, this is not how I thought my day would turn out.

And yes, I maybe, a little bit, might have an eensy-weensy crush (just a marginal one) on Moffer Bones. But it’s mostly just that I need answers and he has them. I mean, I’m not just lurking around to catch glimpses of him when he’s out and about. That would be weird!

Also, if I am perfectly, completely honest, I’m in a kind of hazy nirvana now that I’m wearing jeans and a hoodie, and I’m partly focused on soaking in the total perfections of this whole situation. My clothes feel so freaking good. Mmmm.

You’re reading Victor Poole, and in my latest novel, someone was just murdered (and the body is now being disposed of!). You can get my latest story here.

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The cover for my new book, plus some musings

This is the cover to the new book I just finished/published.

New Cover!

 

Elliot v.2

 

So I started

writing this book as a lark, and, funny story–I originally projected it as a 3k word short story. Yeah. It turned into a novel. Like, a real one with chapters. The main character just had a lot to say, and all of it was vital to the main idea, so here we are. I wrote an awesome new book and now I’m telling you about it!

This is a link to my new book, which you can get right this very second if you click HERE.

So the book is called Elliot, and it is a retelling of Cinderella with a trans woman as the main character. Gosh, it’s adorable. I mean, yes, I wrote it, but it’s just plain cute. Also, there is a gay fairy godmother and a whole lot of romance. I’m super proud of it, and now I’m telling you about it so you can check it out if you like.

Now, I promised

you rambling. Oh, in other news, my keyboard is struggling and teetering back and forth on the brink of being useable. My ‘n’ key is mostly dead, but sometimes it revives briefly and ensnares me into thinking that everything’s all right. I can still type with the ‘n’ key, but it takes a lot of work and massaging around to hit the little pad thingie underneath.

Anyway, so I went to the store to check out their keyboards, and now I have a cheap big black keyboard that hooks in with a usb cord and a fancy bluetooth wireless keyboard that’s the size of my original laptop keyboard. So far I prefer the fancy bluetooth one, but in the back of my mind I keep envisioning myself going and getting a new laptop. I’m not quite there yet, and part of me rather enjoys typing on a replacement keyboard. The feel of the keys is very different.

Oh, right, musings.

Well, I’m still circling around the topic of changing my approach to myself (basically the idea is to boost myself up and approve of/give a stamp of approval to any authentic idea that bursts out of me) (and the issue then is discerning which ideas are authentic and which are metaphorical weeds planted in the garden of my soul by nefarious outsiders). Plus, I’m getting a bit more serious about changing my diet to reduce junk and practice healthier habits. Because muscle tone and body composition, etc.

And now, our fairy rebel . . .

If you recall, in our latest installment, Winstance admitted to not knowing who her mother was, and the handsome and mysterious Moffer Bones reacted with alarm and shock, transported Winstance outside the boundary of the forest, and went home in the blink of an eye. Winstance, being full to the seams with indignant ire, has returned to his house and started to pound on the door. Moffer Bones is surprised to see her; she asks if she can borrow some pants (specifically, jeans), and . . . roll scene:

Sample

Jeans and a Hoodie!!!

Well, Moffer Bones kind of stares at me for a moment, and then he’s like, “Shoot,” except he swore. He didn’t say shoot for real. Um, and he pulled the door open farther to let me in—yay!—and then he went back into that little room behind the main sitting room and came back with . . . wait for it . . . jeans! Yeah, they were men’s jeans and way too big for me (who am I kidding? I was three inches tall and he was a giant compared to me), but still! They were jeans!

Moffer Bones handed them over and I got to work right away doing some tricky clothing charms to get them to fit me, and he just stared at me and was like, “What are you doing?”

I said, “I want to wear pants. Do you have a shirt or a sweater? You don’t have a hoodie, do you? Please?”

I was getting pretty excited at this point, because now I had jeans that were nearly ready to put on, my gosh! It had been years and years since I’d first started longing for a good pair of jeans, and here were my very first pair. He stared at me some more and then threw his hands up in the air, like he was giving up, and went back to his bedroom.

Guys. Guys, he came back with this black hoodie. Like, gosh! I felt like I was going to die, and everything was kind of a blur for me after that, because all I was thinking was ‘Get these items of clothing on my body right away, yes! Yes!’, and it’s possible that I was muttering to myself or sounding a tiny bit crazed while I was adjusting the sizes and doing little tweaks to the seams.

I guess Moffer could see me getting seriously possessive over these clothes, and he’s like, “Look, why don’t you just keep them. I have other clothes.”

I nearly flew over to kiss him, guys. I mean, he was giving them to me! Aaaaah!

So this was now officially the best day of my life, and I guess I was being cute or something with how into the clothes I was, because Moffer Bones laughed at me and then he started to talk.

Finally I started to get answers! Here are some of the answers I got:

Moffer Bones’ Answers:

  1. He put a really strong spell on me just a few minutes before to keep me out of the woods, so the fact that I just flew directly in without any issue is a huge deal to Moffer Bones, and apparently I’m very powerful. (This is news to me.)
  2. Me not having a known mother means that I’m probably a sort of creature that *mutter mutter* . . . and Moffer Bones got really incoherent and dodgy at that part, so beyond me being a creature . . . I don’t know? And he rushed on to talk about other things before I could ask more about this.
  3. The Queen Mother had a charm on the credit card that was meant to start draining my power out of my wings as soon as I crossed the boundary of the woods.

Well, at this point I stopped Moffer Bones and was like, “She what, now?” Because this was shocking and also sounded gross and frightening. Also, I had gotten the jeans down to my size and tailored to fit my legs (I do NOT have the kind of muscled thighs Moffer Bones has, so I did a little work on the inseams), so I pulled them on under my leaf skirt and it was HEAVEN. Gosh.

Okay, but this is what Moffer Bones told me about the Queen, and brace yourself, because it’s dark and nasty! (Who knew?! She seems so nice!)

You’re reading Victor Poole, and in my current novel, a group of humans and aliens are working out their team dynamic before embarking on a mission in the wilderness. Also, I feel super tired right now! : D

 

Looong Winstance, and I have a new book out (link at bottom)

So I’ve been thinking lately about how I treat myself, because my core specialty is working on actors and developing personality (to make people charming and alluring, etc.), and of course the question after doing it to other people is . . . when am I going to do this stuff to myself? Right?

And I was putting off the deep work because it was a big mess. My insides were, I mean, for lots of reasons that aren’t particularly interesting, but I wanted to get *things* so I started doing the project anyway (the project of shining up my insides so my outsides would be more glamor-sparkly).

Which leads me to the point of what I’m talking about right now, which is how I think of and speak about myself. See, when working an actor, I frame what they’re doing as creative and reaffirm the instincts they’re bringing to the table, and this makes the actor respond much quicker on stage and gives them a fluid confidence in taking direction and playing in innovative ways in scene work.

Point being, I have to start being nicer to myself. It’s kind of like a personal trainer walking around and doing some really bad habit and then facing the music and being like, ‘Gee, I have to give this up or my work is going to suffer along with my clientele.’

So I’m being nicer to myself now. It’s so hard, not because it’s actually difficult but because it’s very unfamiliar.

I had some mean-ass directors and professors who were hard-core proponents of their actors being thoroughly beaten down and depressed. Skanky poop-heads, I say, all of ’em. Anyway, so that’s what I’m working on right now in my personal life, is undoing some really bad personality management habits that mean people pushed on me.

Like if you went to one martial arts studio and were taught all the wrong ways to do things, and then you had to undo all that learning and practice and take up the proper approach later on. Except it’s all emotions and invisible things, plus energy dynamics and subtle body adjustments (posture, flow, etc.).

The last thing that happened in our rebel fairy story was Winstance following Moffer Bones into his surprisingly nice hunting shack, and now you get to find out what Moffer Bones said!

Sample

A Very Annoying Interaction

Moffer Bones goes into his house, and I follow him, and then he shuts the door and his arm brushes against me, right? And then he turns to me while I’m feeling all twitterpated and whatnot, and he says, “Give me that credit card. Let’s see what she’s put on it.”

I was very eager to get his take on what the Queen might be up to, so I handed over the enchanted card and he goes over to his table and sits down and starts tinkering with the magic that’s all around and on the credit card. He was quiet for a bit and looked like he was concentrating, so I waited and tried to be patient, and then Moffer Bones looks up at me and he’s like, “Go over there.” He gestured across the room, and I was like, “Why?”, and Moffer Bones does this sighing number and says, “Because I’m going to set off the magic and I don’t want it to get on you. This is toxic.”

Well, this was news to me, because why would the Queen Mother give me something toxic, and I didn’t even know what that meant, but I went over the room anyway and Moffer Bones did this explode-y thing and essentially made the card combust into a fiery inferno over the table.

“That would have been you,” he says.

Now this sounded a whole lot like he was saying the Queen was trying to kill me or something, right? And I felt like maybe Moffer Bones was playing a trick on me, and—you know, like maybe he was a powerful evil dude who was going to seduce me onto his side and then lead me into rebelling against the Queen, right? And he would start that whole process off by making it sound like he’d saved me from some horrible fate.

I really wasn’t sure what to do yet, given the fact that he was being mysterious, so I just bit my tongue and pretended to be a little scared.

“Oh, don’t do that. I can see you aren’t afraid of me,” Moffer Bones says, and then I kind of glared at him, because it’s really rude to call people out for pretending to have emotions when they’re just, um, trying to find out more about the situation. I felt like he was being super rude. Moffer Bones, when I started glaring, kind of chuckled, and he was like, “Yeah, that’s better. Authentic. So you’re Winstance. Winstance what? What’s your mother?”

I shot right back at him, and I was like, “What was on that credit card? What was the Queen going to do to me?”

He looked at me for a second like he was trying to decide how much he wanted to say, and then he shook his head—he was soo cute, guys, and part of me was just concentrating on not acting like an idiot and trying to flirt at him. I was also jealous of his clothes, because of course I was in my latest leaf frock and I felt ridiculous. You’ll remember that I’d magicked myself up to Moffer Bones’ size, so my leaf dress was bigger, too, and I felt like a dingy human wearing a super cutesy Halloween outfit, which I hated. I mean, he’s all over there in his soft cream sweater and gorgeous brown pants, and I know I would have felt a whole lot more at ease if I could have been wearing some jeans and a hoodie.

Like, then it would have been totally different for me. I could have been all chill and like, ‘Hey, Moffer Bones, wanna go on a moonlit stroll with me?’ Or something. As things were, with me and my oversized leaf gown, I felt like a bad joke out of a super low-budget film. Oh, I guess you’re maybe wondering why I know about things like films and whatnot, since I’m a fairy. Um, I kind of maybe steal people’s phones when they’re in the woods. I always put them back, okay! And I never get caught. I just, uh, stream movies and browse clothing online when campers are sleeping during the night. So . . . yeah.

Anyway. Um.

Oh, so I had asked what the Queen had been planning to do to me with the enchanted credit card, and Moffer Bones, after he’s looked at me for a long moment, shakes his head in this cynical sort of way and says, “I’m not getting into this again. You answer me first. What’s your mother?”

I asked him, “What do you mean, again? Has this happened before?”

Moffer Bones makes this face at me like it’s a dumb question, and he’s all, “You really think I can live on the edge of the forest for five hundred years and you’re the first bright-eyed little kid to wander over and ask me for help? What’s your mother?”

“How often do people come to ask you for stuff like this? And what happens to them in general?” I ask.

Moffer makes this scoffing noise and is all, “I’m not going to tell you anything. What’s your mother?”

This was turning into a stalemate sort of situation, which was frustrating, so I tried a new angle. I said, “Why do you care that I can make myself your size?”

He says, “Regular fairies can’t do that.”

I’m like, “Yes, they can. Everyone I know can do this.”

He gets this smirk on his face—a super hot smirk—and he says, “Yeah, right. How many times have you seen a fairy get larger than six inches?”

Bear in mind that Moffer Bones and I are both about a foot and a half tall just at this moment. I said, “Never, but they haven’t needed to get this big. They could if they wanted to.”

He says, “No, they couldn’t. Now I’ve said something useful. You tell me what your mother is.”

Where I come from is kind of a sore point for me, but he did render up a tiny bit of real participation, even though I was sure what he’d said about fairies not being able to magic themselves bigger was a lie, so I felt like I’d better give him something, too. So I said, “My mother didn’t want me and I was left in a flower. I don’t know who she was.”

Well, Moffer Bones looked even more startled when I said this, and before I could figure out if he looked mad or scared, he strode over the house to me, grabbed me by both arms, and then he did some tricky kind of magic that I didn’t recognize and I found myself outside the boundary of the woods, and Moffer Bones was glaring at me, and he let go of my arms and vanished.

I was really angry, right? Because that was abrupt and thoughtless, and you really shouldn’t magic people around without speaking to them first.

I made myself my regular size, because being so huge was kind of making me feel like this monstrous elephant or something, and I zoomed up into the air on my purple-with-gold-swirls wings and I just flew right back into the woods and made a direct line for Moffer Bones’ house, because boy, did I have some words for him!

And also, him grabbing my arms was very enjoyable, even though he was being mean while he was doing it. He didn’t hurt me or anything, it was just rude and, like I said, thoughtless. But still, he was awfully cute and his hands were warm. Plus, he smelled good.

He’d dropped me outside the boundary of the woods a little distance from his house, and so I just tore along until I came up to his front door, and then I hovered in front of the door and started pounding on it with one fist.

After a moment, Moffer Bones came and opened the door, and he looked completely shocked that I was there, which to me was like, dude, we weren’t even finished talking, you know? Why would I just be all, ‘Oh, Moffer Bones has put me outside the woods! I shall wander away and never demand answers!’ Yeah, no. I wanted to have it out with this guy, since he clearly knew things about the Queen, and I still didn’t have any answers about why she would give me permission to leave the woods for fifty years. I wanted answers!

Moffer Bones stares at me like I’m this miracle or something, and he’s like, “How did you do that?”

I said, “You’re being really rude to me, Moffer Bones. I don’t think I like you anymore. Can I come in? I want you to tell me why the Queen would give me an enchanted credit card, and I also want to know what would have happened to me when I crossed the boundary with it, and do you have any pants I can have?”

He stares at me some more and he’s like, “Pants? You want pants?”

I was feeling like here, maybe, was progress, so I—in my three-inch-tall state, and flying at his eye level—tilt up my chin and I’m like, “Yes! Jeans, preferably.”

You’re reading Victor Poole, and in my current novel, some members of the group are being chastised for having terrible manners. I wrote a new story, it’s hilarious, and you can get it here.

Good Morning, World

Sample

Moffer Bones’ House

So the outside of the hunting shack looked exactly like I’d expected, with gray, weathered wood and decrepit old boards and scraps kind of hanging off here or there. It looked like the kind of shack someone put up with half a plan and whatever they had on hand, you know? Kind of skewampus and—well, messy, and there were rusted-out nails here and there over the whole thing, like the people making it really hadn’t been very good at hammering, or they’d driven too many nails into knots in the wood and then not known how to pull them out again, or just not been strong enough.

It was a clumsy shack on the outside, is what I’m saying, but it wasn’t full of holes or anything. I mean, all the spaces were closed up, just with layers, almost like a person started building the shack, discovered that it was full of holes, and hammered bits of wood or roofing shingle over all the gaps.

So it was kind of like a reptile shack, with little bits of mismatched scales put over the outsides, and the roof was uneven and had three different kinds of material on top, almost like someone had been raiding the dump or trying to salvage leftover materials from other projects. There was a little metal chimney, a round one, kind of like a thick exhaust pipe sticking right out of the left side of the roof. Overall it was a crazy, lopsided mess, and that was very much what I was expecting the whole thing to be like, so yay.

Well, I followed Moffer Bones into his shack, and wowza. Jeepers, it was nice. First, the inside was perfectly neat, and super well built. Like, it was exactly like Moffer Bones had taken the shack as-is, and left the outside completely alone, and then redone the entire inside, using the outside as a shell. So the inside was not huge, but it was beautifully constructed and super homey.

So there was one main room, and that took up most of the space, and it had a really nice sitting area and a wooden table, and a rug. There were pictures on the walls, too, paintings in frames, and they were really gorgeous. They seemed like the kind of paintings you would see in a fancy museum, and I didn’t get a chance to look very closely at them, but there were three of them and then a couple of small oval portraits over near the fireplace. Oh, there was a fireplace, a super cozy one made out of white stone.

It wasn’t the time of year to have a fire, but it was all swept up and neat, and had a bundle of wood all ready to be lit on fire. Um, so that was the main room—and he had a few shelves, too, with books and little tools on them, but I was kind of taking in the whole environment and feeling super nervous about being so close to this incredibly hot guy, so I didn’t really spend much time staring at his things. I didn’t want to be nosy, or look like I was just coming around to be a snoop.

Um, so there was that main room, which was the biggest area, and then there was a little step up into a tiny little kitchen area, and then a doorway to one side that I think must have gone into an equally small bedroom or maybe a washroom. Anyway, so that was the layout of Moffer Bones’ house, and he waited for me to come in and then shut the door behind me, right? And he had to reach past me to get the door, which meant that his arm brushed up against my side, and gosh, that was—uh, that was really something.

Now, I’ve told you a few times now that I was desperate for flirting and relationships, right? And what I haven’t told you yet is that I hadn’t ever, um, touched up against another person. Like, at all. (I guess if you’re wondering about my childhood, I’ll explain that in a bit, but I’m serious about the not-touching thing.) Fairies are very hands-off, and don’t do snuggles, which drives me nuts because I’m basically starving for contact all the time and can’t get any human-style cuddles, which I really, really want. I didn’t mention that because it seemed kind of like a personal, needy thing to say: ‘Hey there, I’m Winstance and I crave physical touch!’

Yeah, I didn’t want to lead with that, but I’m telling you right now because this was a huge, massive deal to me, that Moffer Bones brushed against me like this for a second while closing the door. And he acted like it was not even a big deal or anything. I was super pumped, as you can guess, because not only was I getting touched by a person for basically the first time ever, but the guy doing it was functionally the definition of hotness. Sigh.

So we went into the house, and I’m still holding onto the credit card and the pamphlet while riding the emotional high of my first almost-flirting experience ever, and this next part is what Moffer Bones said to me.

You’re reading Victor Poole, and I’m editing a manuscript. Also, in my latest book, the hunter is talking to Gareth. You can get my latest story here.

A Much Longer Bit of Story for You : P

Sample

Moffer Bones

So I fly up to where I could creep close behind a tree and get a good look at Moffer Bones and his house, and my gosh, the dude is mouth-wateringly gorgeous. I mean, he’s got this perfect *stunning* hair, a wonderful brown color with, like dark shades along the bottom and little hints of hazel buried in his curls. Oh, I hadn’t said that yet. Guys, his curls! Ugh!

Moffer Bones has this dark brown curly hair with highlights in hazel, and his skin, my gosh, is like exquisite dark caramel, and he’s all muscular and—well, he’s perfect, okay? Like, you take a body, a male body, and you say, what are the ideal proportions and—I don’t know, the most startling, effective shapes for the muscles, to create a powerful, balanced guy, and that’s Moffer Bones.

I was over behind this tree, right? And I was staring. Boy, was I staring, and Moffer had on, like, this shepherd-type sweater thingie—I don’t really know what else to call it, but it was all soft and cream-colored, and looked like the kind of warm, utilitarian garment that an idyllic shepherd-dude would throw on before he went out for a long day of grazing the flocks, okay?

And he had on these earthen brown pants that stretched around these heart-stopping muscular thighs—and I know, I know, I keep saying the word ‘muscular,’ but seriously! The guy was built, and it wasn’t too much, either. Like, I’ve seen really muscle-bound guys come into the woods, either on their own or with girlfriends or whatever, and I know what guys look like when there’s too much muscle and not enough limber, you know? Boy, Moffer Bones was not too much muscle! He was harmony and power, and just—just wow. He was just wow.

Um, so he’s got this dark, caramel skin, and that amazing brown hair together with hazel glints shining off him from the sunlight, and he’s wearing a creamy sweater and these comfy brown pants that were showing his legs off to perfection, and he’s like, lounging on the edge of that skuzzy old pond with a homemade fishing pole in his hand. (Oh my gosh, his HANDS!)

I guess I should explain about his hands. And his eyes. Swoon.

And I would like to say, if I’d had any clue that a glorious dude like this was littering up our very own forest with his glamorous and delicious perfections—uh, I would have done something about that about fifty years ago, you know? Mm!

So! Moffer Bones has these incredible dark blue eyes, and the most manly, delicious hands I’ve ever seen in my life, and he looked so darn glamorous that I felt like my heart was absolutely going to stop. I was hovering behind a tree and staring my eyes out at this guy—and he doesn’t look old, also. I know he’s got to be way over three hundred, and he might be closer to a thousand years old, but he looked like a hunk in his mid-hundreds. Also, I would like to say that he did not seem scary at all, and I was kind of on a sudden high of finding out that my ideal dream guy actually lived here, in the woods, so I popped out from behind my tree and flew straight up to him, and I said, “Hello, Moffer Bones,” and he looked up at me as I’m flying close, and his eyes, my gosh.

Moffer Bones looks at me with those dark blue eyes, and his curls are framing his super-hot face, and he’s like, “You’re Winstance. I’ve heard about you.”

Well, I was kind of taken aback, and also my heart was doing these very distracting flips, and I said, “Oh, really? What have you heard?” And I’m trying to play things off and act like this whole meeting-for-the-first-time thing is no big deal, and Moffer Bones kind of grins (and I thought I would DIE, because his smile is amazing), and then he says to me, “Oh, I heard you’re an idiot and that you’re scared of trolls.”

Boy, that kind of knocked me off my good feelings a bit, you know? Also, the troll fiasco only happened a few weeks ago, so I didn’t really feel like that was a fair thing to bring up. I was like, “Who told you that?”

Moffer starts staring at my pamphlet and my credit card, which I’d been carrying in my hands, and I’d forgotten all about them, and he’s like, “So what do you want? Because the answer’s no. Bye.” And then he got up with his fishing pole and started walking towards his shack.

Well, I wasn’t interested in letting him get away that easily, so I zoomed over and darted in front of him, and he scowled at me (and his scowl is also incredibly hot), and I said, “I think the Queen is playing a trick on me. Will you tell me why she’d give me a charm to make me human for fifty years? This is charmed to give me fifty years of humanness,” and I held up the credit card, and Moffer Bones gets this really irritated look on his face and is all, “I’m not getting into this.”

He, like, muttered that part, and dodged around me, and I flew over to his door and magicked myself to be his size so he couldn’t just dart around me like that. I made myself his size, right? Like, the proportionate girl version of his stature, and his eyes got all huge when I did that, and he was like, “Winstance. Winstance what? Who was your mother?”

I really didn’t know what he was reacting to, because all the fairies I know can do stuff like that, make themselves bigger or smaller for different tasks, and I was like, “If you knew my name already, why don’t you know where I came from?”

And Moffer Bones is all, “People don’t tell me that kind of thing. What’s your mother?”

This was very exciting to me, because usually I’m the only one who gets left out of interesting gossip, so I kind of folded my arms and did my best stubborn glare at Moffer Bones, and I said, “I’ll only tell you if you talk to me, too. You’ve been around forever, right? What’s the Queen playing at, that she suddenly decided to give me a human life?”

Moffer Bones’ face did all these, um, really fascinating changes, almost like he was trying to decide if he wanted to yell at me or try to be friendly, and then he said, “Do that again. Go small, then big. Show me.”

This wasn’t a huge deal to me at all, so I made myself my regular size and then popped back out to match Moffer Bones. It was super exciting to be his size, actually. I’ve never made myself that large, so—yeah, that was a fun head trip. I hadn’t thought of doing it until he was being all—all dodging around and trying to go hide in his house. I kind of just did it because I was mad, and because I wanted to not chase him around forever. Um, but Moffer Bones was reacting as if I was doing this strange, ridiculous magic, which I thought was funny. After I made myself big again, he kind of darted this look over his shoulder, exactly like he was afraid someone would be watching us, and then he tipped his head towards his shack.

“Come and talk to me, then. She’ll come looking for you if we don’t do something about that credit card,” he says.

I was like, “What do you mean? That she’ll know I haven’t used the charm yet?”

He’s like, “Yeah. I’ll help you set off the charm so she thinks you’re out of the woods.”

He was clearly cooperating, and I wanted to hear more about all this, so I moved and he opened the door to his old hunting shack, and I followed him inside.

And . . . just like Moffer Bones was nothing like I’d been expecting—um, yeah. His house was completely different than I’d been told, too. There were no animal skulls, and it wasn’t gross at all. I’ll tell you what it looked like.

You’re reading Victor Poole, and in my current novel, seven alien warriors are in the process of becoming bodyguards to the half-alien prince. You can get my latest book here.

Winstance Returns!

Sample

(Winstance, in describing Moffer Bones’ attractions, has interrupted herself to give you backstory. Ergo:)

A Thin Story

The story of how Moffer Bones came to be:

(According to the super watered down version that is ‘appropriate’ for flighty, excitable people like me.)

(And let’s be honest, I’m the only one that people really edit themselves around for interesting doozies out of history like this, so I’m sure this is the squeaky clean, not very accurate version. You’ve been warned!)

So a long, long time ago, like probably hundreds of years, but no one has ever given me specifics, there was an ancient god who has (I’m completely guessing here) either died or moved on to some other mortal playground, because I’m pretty sure he’s not around anymore—

Wow, that was getting kinda long, so let me see if I can break this up into more, um, manageable pieces. Okay!

  • There’s this ancient god-dude who’s totally not around anymore but I don’t know why. We’ll call him . . . Chuck, okay? (I’ve never heard his name. The fairies just say ‘ancient god’ in these deep, impressive tones, like they’re referencing a ghost story.)
  • The ancient god Chuck was in a doldrummy mood for some reason, (and again, this part is always left out of the versions I’ve heard, so I can’t help you out for why—just know, he was depressed and low, okay?) and Chuck decided to go slumming it in the woods to recover a connection to nature or something like that. So Chuck the old god goes camping, essentially.
  • Chuck travels through many worlds, seeking peace and whatnot (and yes, he’s a multiple dimensions and worlds god, because . . . he is, apparently. Or was!) and eventually lands in our woods, where our fairy kind have been keeping up the magical protection of the trees and little creatures for, like, ever.
  • The ancient god Chuck falls in love with a cute fairy lady . . . romance happens . . . etc. And then we get Moffer Bones.

I really, really, think that something horribly tragic happened at the end of this story, but no one—NO ONE!—will give me any hints about what. All I know for sure is that the ancient god is nowhere around and the fairy died somehow, leaving Moffer Bones in this weird position of being halfway fairy and half something else. I don’t know what his powers are or if he can leave the forest here or anything. What I do know is that he’s old, old, old, and much more dangerous and–well, real, according to my definition of the word, than all the pure fairies.

Okay! Now you know the backstory, or as much of it as I know, and now I will get back to telling you about my first time meeting Moffer Bones (the hunk!). *Mm!*

You’re reading Victor Poole, and in my current novel, someone named Kraz is having a rough day.

I feel so weird right now

I’m in this odd place right now where I’m almost settled in to a groove of working, but then I kind of buck out of it by accident every third or fourth day. Also, I do not have any good drawings to show you because I’m being all secretive and whatnot, and refining my process.

Sigh.

In other news, Winstance’s life is going particularly well:

Sample

(As you may recall, our rebel fairy is now approaching the old, potentially evil half-fairy’s lair at the edge of the woods. Enjoy!)

Moffer Bones!

So I’ve been flying near the border this whole time, right, to avoid meeting any other fairies, and I get close to Moffer Bones’ place, where the rotten oak towers over the rest of the trees, and I slow down a lot because I really don’t want to startle him. As far as I know, Moffer Bones has never harmed a fairy, but you really shouldn’t sneak up on a dude who keeps a bow and arrows and shoots deer sometimes, or snares and eats rabbits. *shudder*

So, like I said, I slow down and I get down closer to the forest floor, because I’m intending to kind of sneak up and get a good look at things before I go and introduce myself. And I kept telling myself that if the whole environment around there seemed dodgy, I would just give up and figure something else out. I wasn’t going to force my company on Moffer Bones if he looked like he was going to chew me out or—I don’t know, be scary. I wasn’t going to run into a big fight, if he seemed grouchy.

Now, I got lower down towards the forest floor and did my best stealth-flying to get closer, and then I came within sight of Moffer Bones’ house. Not only was his house NOTHING like I had been expecting, but Moffer Bones himself is out there in front, doing some kind of fishing type deal in the scummy old pond.

*deep breath*

I hafta start with describing Moffer Bones, guys. My gosh, he was—he was—aaaugh!

Moffer Bones is freaking gorgeous, okay?

He’s not creepy, old, nasty, or deformed. He’s about five times the size of an average fairy (and most of us are between three and four inches tall, so Moffer Bones is, like, way over a foot tall! He’s so enormous! If I ever stood next to him (which is NEVER going to happen, my gosh) (and I mean, I would always be flying, you see. I wouldn’t walk around next to that guy. Sheesh!)—um, like I was saying, if I ever stood next to him, I wouldn’t even come up to his knee! Like, way to make me feel tiny, right?!

Anyway!

So Moffer Bones is over a foot tall, I don’t know by how much, but he is just—gah! This is so difficult to talk about! I told you way back before that, um, that Moffer Bones is the illegitimate son of a god and a fairy, right? Oh, shoot. I’m going to have to tell you that whole story, I guess, for this to make sense. I told you before I didn’t know the story, but what I meant was that I have no real details, because no one will tell me anything (I’m too ‘flighty’ for reality, apparently). But this is the super thin, boring, not-helpful story I’ve heard about where Moffer Bones came from in the first place.

Sigh.

(And, and, and . . . Moffer Bones is so hot!!!)

You’re reading Victor Poole, and in my current novel, somebody is getting ready to appeal to an old gangster for permission to date a functional ward. You can get my latest book here.