Starting Over

I have been asked why things have been quiet here and why my domain URL isn’t seemingly working. There has been a lot going on with me that I haven’t been comfortable sharing yet. I’m posting this here as it is centered in my writing career, and to update you on a few things.

First off, yes, the domain address has been done away with. There are a lot of reasons why I did this, why I’ve opted to go back to the http://SamanthaAndersonAuthor.Wordpress.com address. The biggest ones are that I want to brand myself, my books, my writing. WordPress has templates and without spending an arm and a leg, doesn’t allow you to customize very much. So when it came close to the domain expiring and having to choose between buying another year, or using that money to build my own domain and website the way that I want – that’s what I’m doing.

There are a lot of reasons for this change, the biggest is realizing that I want to get back to the basics of writing again. I have been struggling over the last two years, coming to terms with who I am as a writer, and what is most important to me. The biggest lesson I’ve learned is that the minute I start trying to make everyone else happy is the moment that I start losing. I used to blog, several times weekly, but then I stopped because I got told that I shouldn’t put so much personal information on my writing site. That I should separate them, and that this site should only pertain to writing.

Somewhere along the way of my writing career I started listening to every piece of advice or opinion as gospel and it has affected how I do things.

It’s been a few years now since I actually wrote something just because I wanted to. Everything I write now is laced with questions about marketing and trying to make a product that sells. I buried myself for years in all the writing help I could get my hands on and one thing is for certain – it didn’t help me become a better writer. Instead, it made me dislike writing a bit. It made it seem like more work than I’d ever known it to feel like. I somewhere lost the joy that writing brought into my life, by carefully navigating through all the “rules”, all because I was missing one key point that I prided myself on from the start.

I just want to write.

I let people convince me I needed to approach this like a business, and while I agree with them on some levels – this is not just my business, this is my identity, my therapy, my hobby, my happiness. I was trading in all of that for the sake of treating it like a business – missing the best piece of advice I’d ever received. Write what you love.

So that’s what I’ll be doing. My posts here will be limited for the time being, as I get back to doing what I love and tearing apart the self-imposed rules. I’ll try to keep up more personal blogging on my personal site http://SamanthaSaysItAll.Wordpress.com

Happy writing my loves!

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Release Week Kickoff!

Six and a half years ago, while recovering from a near fatal head injury, I started the work of writing my first novel, but the story of Devrynne Kaine actually started about four years before that with online writing groups. It makes this week almost bittersweet for me. To be here kicking off #ReleaseWeek for my third novel, the conclusion of the original Devrynne Kaine story, The Devil’s Downfall.

I actually finished the writing of this novel almost two years ago, but I have a very hard time letting go of anything so this feels very much like goodbye, even though I know that this is really just the beginning of all the stories I have left to tell.

That being said, stay tuned this week, to see all the fun and games that I’ll have for Release Week, including contests where you can win signed copies of my books or gift cards to Amazon and iTunes! This is all leading up to Friday, when you can get your own copy of my third novel, The Devil’s Downfall!

Most of the Contests will be held on my Facebook page, which can be found HERE

 

 

WHOOOPAH!!! It’s Stefanie’s Birthday!

12033118_10156001527060548_6255015291978231137_nMy Darling Baby Sister,

I had this whole other post written since like August and I’ve completely deleted it. I knew you’d ask to read it if I didn’t, and I think it will take away from the importance of what I’m about to tell you…

You are one of my biggest blessings.

Three lines in and I’m crying, so I’d grab some Kleenex now, ya sap, you’ll probably need it.

We’ve talked within the last few days, about what I was doing on my 26th birthday and I remembered it being right before I moved back to Illinois. We talked about the mindset changes that happen in your mid-twenties, and even if we’re not talking specifics, I know you’re evaluating your life, what it is, what or who’s in it, and making plans for your future.

You’re young in my eyes, but I know you probably feel like it’s been a long 26 years.

This has given you strength. This has given you the grace to overcome obstacles and prepared you for battles you haven’t faced yet. This doesn’t make you weak, it doesn’t make you damaged, it doesn’t mean you’re defective. It means you’re getting ready.

You’re so beautiful and a rare person in the world, it’s almost like we’re the lucky ones to even be a part of it.542860_10152286801335548_986384038_n

You know how much I hate when Becky is right, but she’s always said something happens in your mid-twenties, she said it again the other night too and it’s simply true. That in your twenties you hit the point where you come to terms with who you’re supposed to be in comparison of who you thought you’d be.

I know that you’re at that critical fork in the road where you are sizing up your life and weighing everything that means something to you.

It’s like cleaning out an attic.

You’re deciding what baggage to let go of and move on from, but you’re also deciding what to hold on to for those moments when the world is telling you that you can’t do something and you can open up that one bag that holds all the things you’ve overcome already.

It’s shitty, it makes you doubt everything you’ve ever thought or believed, and makes you question WHY you’ve thought or believed those things. It happens again around 30… and again around 35…. Fuck, I do this every year, but what I’m saying is my mid-twenties were the biggest!

I told you the other night… I imparted some 26-year-old “wisdomous” words on you, and I’ll share them with you again because they keep replaying over and over in my head as I think of you.

Leave what is behind you, behind you. For there are reasons it didn’t make it to the point of being beside you!

I’ve google’d this because I don’t remember writing it in my journal, and it’s dated September 2007, when I myself was 26. I still don’t believe that I came up with this, but whatever… it’s so poignant for the moment in so many ways.

Losing Mom, our childhood, the chaos we’ve known from a young age, the issues at home and away from it, none of those things broke you. Regardless of what tricks your mind plays on you or what you see in a reflection in the mirror.

Those things/people that tried to break you only ended up forging you into the fearless woman you have become.

I am so proud of you, Stefanie, you have no idea. I cannot tell you enough how thankful I am to have you in my life. I know a lot of times you say you don’t know what you’d do without me, but I cannot even begin to tell you how much I don’t know what I’d do without you.

For as thankful as I am for the bond you and I have, I am even more thankful for the champion that my kids have as well. That they know without a doubt you are there for them too. I’m so lucky to know that my daughters have you as their aunt, how great you are will all the nieces and nephews. How lucky they are to have you in their lives.

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I wish I would have learned earlier in life to live it on my own terms the way you have always done. Even besides that, you’ve taught me more than I think you know. You’ve come to me to be wisdomous and to teach you, we joke about me being wise, but it’s you that I continue to learn from.

In twenty-six years you’ve been my everything for the majority of it. We’ve fought, we’ve laughed, we’ve cried, we’ve bickered, and laughed some more.

10481591_10152316450974818_6921015812493124608_nYou helped me believe in myself when no one else would. You’ve never judged me, no dream was too big, too crazy, too weird. If I wanted it, you were my champion in all of it.

If I wanted to ride rolling chairs and believe that the Twilight Zone song was actually the Jaws song, then so be it, it was! You would fight anyone who said otherwise!

If I wanted to adopt every homeless kitten and become a crazy cat lady, you were all for it!

If I wanted to write books and turn every arch-nemesis I’ve ever had into a villain in them, you help me plot every grisly fictional scene of their deaths!

If I want to be completely smitten with a totally hot British guy that plays one of the best Marvel villains ever…. Okay fine, that’s where you draw the line, but still. HAHA!

Just saying…

I’ve believed many times that I’ve failed the people in my life, and you’ve always been there building me back up, convincing me of all I’m capable of, even if we disagree on what makes a villain totally dreamy.

So when I say you’re my blessing, I mean in it every way possible, because even when we disagree, I know I don’t ever have to worry about losing your acceptance of me, of who I am, and I love you for that more than you can possibly ever know, and only hope to be able to give you that same acceptance back.

I know I get over-bearing with you, a little too motherly but that’s just because I love you so much. I know both you and I could take a lot in life, we could weather a lot of storms and come out stronger on the other side, but I know that it’s only possible because I know you will be there for me.

I’ve had the blessing of watching the little girl you were grow into the very capable, smart, fearless woman you are today. Even when you think that no one is noticing, I know just how much you’ve overcome. I know the mountains you’ve climbed, I know the depths your mind has probably taken you to convince you to not even try anymore, that giving up would be so much easier, but I am so proud of you for the wonderfully bold woman you’ve become.

I love you for exactly who you are.

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I’m reminded very much tonight of one of our only big fights, probably the only true fight we’ve ever really had. It was a fight I didn’t think we’d ever be able to overcome, my stubbornness was going to win, and I was going to stand my ground. I remember lecturing the shit out of you to the point of being hoarse. Because I was older and I knew better!

I remember making it to my car and turning on the radio and promptly bursting into tears. I didn’t even make it out of the drive before I’d called you and told you to look up the song that I’d heard on the radio. Still makes me cry to this day, but it reminds me every time I hear it, just how special the bond is that we have, and that even at our lowest, I would always be there for you, and I knew you would always be there for me…

 

 

It kind of became like our un-official sister song and still makes me cry when I hear it.

Well I have rambled, and cried enough, but there is still so much more,so much I wish I even had the words to tell you. Imagine that, me, the writer, can’t find the words… Go figure!

I will stop now and simply say this…

 

To my baby sister who is all grown up now (at least in age, I said nothing about maturity hahaha), I wish you a very Happy Birthday. May this day be everything you want it to be, but even if it’s not, know that you are dearly loved and adored.

I know you may not need me anymore, but I’m so very glad to have you in my life. To have someone to appreciate all things FRIENDS, Supernatural, and 90’s Music, or to understand all the things I either don’t say or am incapable of saying correctly due to my issuries. Life would be so very dull in comparison to the ray of sarcastic charm you bring to my life every day.

 

I LOVE YOU!!!!!!

 

Love Always,

Samantha

What A Mess!

MessyDesk

As you’ve probably noticed, I’ve spent some time away. I would love to say that it’s a time of reflection, but it really hasn’t even been that. It’s been more a time of self-loathing and re-evaluating the way I choose to do things here.

It has been almost three years since I started this site, which is an extension of one that I started three years before that. I had very defined ideas of what I needed to do and accomplish here. I had one main goal in mind: Make a name for myself.

I had it all sorted that I would build a following and that following would translate into eventual sales. That has not happened at all the way I anticipated.

Truth is, I just do not have the time, nor do I have the desire, to market the way that translates into sales. The authors that I speak with that are making decent money on sales are doing promotions as a full time job. Frankly, I don’t have what it takes to be a salesperson, and that alone has led me to be very cynical about this world online.

I do not like Authors that offer me no interaction outside of “Buy My Book” comments. I hate the amount of spam that is hogging my timelines on every social media outlet I’m a part of.

That being said, there isn’t really a clear-cut vision here on this site. Yes, anyone who reads it will learn I’m a writer/author, but the majority of my posts are music, television, or movie reviews anymore. That or me being on a soapbox preaching about whatever injustice I have come up with.

The world isn’t changing. People are still heinous and it appears at times to be getting darker than ever out there. I’ve let my voice get lost in the mix and I’m trying to find it.

So as you may notice, some of the posts in my archives are missing. I’m cleaning things up and getting back to the basics. If there is a post you’d like back, just drop me a line, I’ll gladly re-activate it for you.

Over the next few weeks though, I’m going to be re-vamping the website, re-branding if you will, and getting back to my love of writing. Nothing more.

Thanks for sticking around!

Learning Curves

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There comes a point in life where explanations are no longer valid. Where time seems to keep going and you’ve wasted five or ten years doing nothing more than explaining why you haven’t achieved something.  They come off as nothing more than hollow excuses to hide the fear you feel.

I believe I have hit that moment.

I have spent several years here, talking about the importance of how bad you want something and going after it, only to hide behind the very soapbox I’m preaching from. I have sat here and told you all about the dreams I chase and things I’m working towards, the end goal being able to be self-sufficient on the sales of my work to quit my day job.

I balk at anyone who tells me they’re scared to try, I write them off as weak-minded or even worse, weak-willed, only to then do the same.

Yes I write. I write a lot. I am almost always writing something. However, anymore it’s blog posts or article related to this website or guest posts for some other site that no offense, hasn’t garnered the turnaround traffic here that I’d expected.

Does that get me anywhere? No. Why? Multiple reasons. I spend so much time focused on listening to all the people tell me that I need to build a following before I’ll ever be taken seriously, so I throw so much into this because I firmly believe in that. Then I hit moments where I hate what I post here because it’s not true to the real me in the slightest. Or then, when I write things that are at their very heart, very true pieces of me, I do nothing with that writing once I’ve finished it.  I let it collect dust and I hide it. I discount it as being any good because heaven forbid I actually attempt to put myself out there.

I, my friends, am a total hypocrite, and I admit it.

That ends now.

I sit and I watch, in veiled jealousy I might add, at all the people around me that are doing the things I say I’m capable of and yet never attempt. I’ve let myself hide behind my excuses and I actually started to believe them. I started to believe that it would only take traffic on this website to make a difference in sales.

That was quickly proven wrong when a post of mine went as close to viral as I’ve ever gotten… over 100,000 views in a week, and not a damned one of those views translated into sales.

I’ve started writing again, I’m done hiding behind all that bothers me about this world and I’m actively pursuing making my dreams a reality. I’ve shared the motto Go Big or Go Home for as long as I can remember, it’s time I actually start living by them.

 

So while that might mean a decreased amount of posts here, I assure you, I’m still around.

 

Dear Shonda Rhimes

Derek-3-happyderekfan-1051637_325_400

 

*Warning – contains spoilers*

 

Dear Shonda  Rhimes,

 

Allow me to first say, Thank You. Thank you for being an amazing writer/creator of a show like Grey’s Anatomy. Thank you for giving me a show that made me the equivalent of a sniffling fool with almost every episode. Thank you for giving me ten years of a show that will always be in my memory.

As a fellow writer, I know you walk a very precarious line between ruining your fan base with what you see as creativity and what they see as ruining their lives. I get it, I really do. However there comes a point when as the writer of such a beloved story, you have to have the humility to know, your fans define you. You have to have ability to know when your own ego needs to take a backseat to the people who have brought you to be where you are.

In writing my third novel, this was a hard lesson I learned, when the beta readers, instead of being moved and emotional over the death of beloved character, all came to me and said that they were hesitant to read anything else I’d ever write because that one character’s death was unwarranted and not at all how the story should go.

I know you’ll have haters, it’s part of the life, but your fans have unanimously voted that your bullshit send off of our ultimate favorite character is wrong, and we will not be subjected to any more of this.

Your fans have heard the rumors about the drama your lovely show has battled off-camera, we all know the George/Izzie/Burke drama, and have heard you speak about how Scandal allowed you to have a no asshole policy. You’ve even said there are no Heigl’s in the cast either. We have hoped (and prayed) that none of our lovely doctors would piss you off enough off screen to warrant a death sentence – literally – because you like to wield that power like a narcissistic hosebeast.

Sadly, this seems to have occurred yet again – only this time – you took our favorite down with you.

Let me just say this, it’s not bad enough that you killed Derek Shepherd, the one-and-only McDreamy, the man with the perfect eyes, and the perfect hair, the man that us single ladies secretly hoped still existed somewhere for us to find with his perfect chivalry and character. No, that wasn’t what hurt the most.

What pushed us over the edge was how you so heinously chose to hate-fuck your audience with his death.

When Lexi died – she got her happy ending – she got to tell Mark that she loved him. You knew that when Mark died, they were wherever dead people go, together, with all of their beautiful little moments in some picturesque heaven. T.R. Knight was a problem so you gave him a grisly death – one that broke us to our very core. You don’t like Izzie? Guess what? She gets the love of her life only to have him die a few episodes later – and then you giver her CANCER! But then – oh wait! You take it away only to have her tell Karev to piss off and she just leaves.

But with Derek – you make him do something so untrue to his character’s personality, he parks in the middle of the road after JUST WITNESSING a horrific accident, after JUST BEING THE HERO and saving everyone – on a road that statistically speaking would probably still be blocked off for clean-up – and BAM! Semi out of nowhere!

No, that’s not even the worst, because in true “Shondaland” fashion – you’re not content with just ripping our hearts out, you like to play Hannibal and fry up pieces of it and feed it back to us you sadistic twit – you make him NARRATE his own effing death!

And for good freaking measure – for the sliver of fans like me who MIGHT be able to make it to the bloody end to hopefully find Meredith waking up from a bad dream or something – you write the scene with Meredith being borderline cold and detached from the whole thing.

You have a woman who CANNOT function without her McDreamy. You have a woman who you have completely deviated from WHO she is at the heart of the character, and turned her into something that even after 10 years, your LOYAL fans will all admit – she is NOT SUPPOSED to be. You try to ram it down our throats all season how Meredith can live without Derek and I’d just like to ask you… Are you high right now? Did you go on a freaking bender and decide to write this season? It’s the only plausible explanation.

Characters evolve – they’re human, they learn from experiences in their lives and it changes them. I get it. You’ve evolved them into capable surgeons who can survive things no one else would be able to – but somewhere, for ten seasons, you’ve for the most part – kept them true to who they were as a character, but not this season. This season it was like you wrote entirely new personalities for your cast.

The comparison has been made since Thursday night’s travesty of an episode, that you are taking tips from the George R.R. Martin Game of Thrones playbook. Sadly that isn’t how I feel. Martin doesn’t just get pissed off at a character and say “Yea – you need to die today.” You know from the first episode that NO ONE is safe – ever. It’s his M.O. to kill off main characters – it hasn’t been that way on Grey’s unless they piss you off – do you see the difference?

In one single episode you have lost me, the fan girl who hangs on to the bitter end. For fuck’s sake, I still watched Supernatural even through all the Leviathan/Dick Roman storyline and that was painful – but this is just tragic. Simply because, as a writer, there is no justification for completely slapping your millions of fans collectively in the face. Abuse – even if you want to wrap it up with a bow and call it creative genius – is still abuse, and frankly, I’ve had about all of it I can take.

V – Verbigeration

Verbigeration – reiteration of cliches…

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Poor Little Miss Sally Mae, the girl with no sense at all. They called her a chip off the old block, Little Miss Sally Mae. She’s the only person in that was famous in town for having to spend the night at the hospital because got stung once by a bee in her bonnet while she was lying in her bed of roses. The townspeople laughed at this problem though, calling it a drop in the bucket to the list of all that ailed Little Miss Sally Mae. She often lived in a fool’s paradise, paying attention to the women in town that would tell her a good man was hard to find.
She often felt it was a good rule of thumb to always have a little of this, a little of that, and it didn’t matter what this or that was, she just needed a little.
When the onlookers would poke fun at her, Mrs. Carmine would shoo them away. She’d explain that she wasn’t peculiar, she was just a horse of a different color. And even though she was a far cry from the most beautiful woman in the world, she had a fair share of suitors. Mr. Riddle’s eldest son John was on the top of a short list in her mind, she felt it was a no-brainer to settle down with him.
But on the day of their wedding she sat in the church, all dressed up with nowhere to go. All because John Riddle had decided that all bets were off because all would pale in comparison to Miss Rebecca Pritchett. He ran off, as happy as a clam with Miss Pritchett, even though she was older than dirt and about as welcome as a skunk at a lawn party.
At the end of the day though, after being badgered to death to meet Mr. Carson’s son Dennis, Little Miss Sally Mae finally gave in to temptation. With her bags packed and ready to go, she bat the idea round in her mind, thinking she could do worse than him, at least he had nice baby blues, and the old busybodies in town couldn’t say enough good about him.
She bit the bullet and charmed his pants off, proving that you should never judge a book by its cover.

U – Unbosom

Unbosom – to pour out – to tell freely…

unbosom

 

Dear Sir,

I’ve agonized over writing this letter, so sure that you would surprise me, as you have in so many other ways, and correct the mistakes that were made to lead us here.

I should have never let it get this far, you may not have been strong enough to stop it, but I was.

You were my lesson… I had to learn…

I listened for years as you lied your way into my heart. So as not to damage your ego, or as not to feel the guilt of hurting the only person you claimed to be able to open up to fully, you of course did what so many do, you deflected it off onto me, put me at fault for asking to be made a priority in your life. Like how dare I, someone who was supposedly the closest thing you had to the love of your life, ask you to ever make me a priority? I must be insane.

Insanity is defined as doing the same thing repeatedly but expecting different results, so yes, I was insane. Insane to believe that you meant even half of what you said. Insane to believe that you would be the person you promised you were. Insane to believe that I held any real power in your life. I didn’t. I see that now.

I see the man you are, the person you portray, the delicate house of cards you’ve built, rooted in the web of lies you spun.

I was your fortress… you had to burn…

I guess when you’ve lived the life I have, and you’re used to those around you taking credit for your successes, it’s easier to give them away without knowing you’ve done so. It was only after you slammed that door, proved that you were just like all the people you told me I deserved more than, that I realized, I’m stronger on my own, without you.

All the things in my life that I’ve given you credit for, let you take the victory on, it’s all wrong. You made me stronger by walking away than you ever could have by staying. I know this now.

It makes it easier to say goodbye.

There’s no greater power… than the power of goodbye…

So goodbye to the man who I gave up years of my life for. Goodbye to the one who in no way had any intention of keeping his word, who proved that out of sight/out of mind isn’t just a saying, it’s words you choose to live by.

Goodbye to the ways I’ve let you infiltrate my every waking moment, control the creative process I have, control the way I choose to view the world. Goodbye to a man who clearly isn’t as strong of character as I once believed. Goodbye to someone who used confided insecurities to let yourself off the hook.

I forgive you.

T – Triolet

Triolet – an eight-lined poem with repetition of first line as fourth and seventh, and of the second line as eighth; and with first, third, fourth, fifth, and seventh lines, and second, sixth, and eighth lines rhyming.

Because this was a task harder than it looks

I should have seriously thought this through

They never taught of this in books

Because this was a task harder than it looks

Now you’re reading this wondering if we’re just a couple of cooks

I think it’s time to end this, I believe this is my cue

Because this was a task harder than it looks

I should have seriously thought this through

S – Sanguivorous

If I had titled the chapters in my soon to be released novel, The Devil’s Downfall, the word for today would have fit perfectly for one of them. So that being said, here is an excerpt from the third and final installment of The Devrynne Kaine Series, due to be published this summer!

Sanguivorous – blood drinking…

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“If you can master this Esmeri, I will let you see me,” the man said.

“And tell me your name?”

She grinned looking into the darkness where his voice came from.

“Take what you can get, my child,” he said, though his voice was teasing.

It was another night of training, of dreams spent with the man that seemed to haunt the darkest recesses of her mind. She slept more now than ever before because he was a drug, the only one that understood her.

“Focus!” he snapped and she cringed.

She hated making him upset though. She closed her eyes, feeling power course through her, her fangs biting the inside of her lips. She almost always had them in her dreams now, she enjoyed them. She had fed from him again, could feel him, but never see him. The desire to do so was the power driving her on at the moment.

They stood by the lake, one very similar to the one by her grandparents’ cabin as she summoned the water out of the lake and into the air. She fought hard, the power making her nose bleed but she pushed past the pain throbbing in her head.

“Good girl,” he said softly, the grin evident in his tone. “Now, divide it, turn it into the storm clouds and put half of it back in the lake.”

Esmeri had to fight to not break her concentration at the shock of what he was asking. She slowly did as she was told and as the rain poured down on her from the clouds she’d created, the wind whipping around her, she laughed.

“Now show yourself!” she demanded with a wide smile, looking through the darkness.

“You sure you want to see me in all of my hideous splendor?”

“I doubt you’re hideous, and besides, I’m about as plain as they come so what do I care?”

This drew him from the shadows and she stepped back from him, inhaling sharply as she saw him. He was easily over six-foot tall, jet black hair that was longer, hung down almost to his chin but flipped back. He had dark features and a goatee, but crystal blue eyes. What struck Esmeri the most was that he rather looked like a rock star. He wore black leather pants, a leather vest that was open, and his arms and part of his abdomen were covered in various tattoos. If she looked close enough she could even swear he was wearing eyeliner.

“Are you like a Jane’s Addiction groupie or something?” she asked, grinning at him.

“Not what you expected?” he smirked at her, giving her one of the most salacious looks she’d ever seen.

“Not exactly, not complaining though,” she answered quickly.

Esmeri stood there eyeing him and she swore that he looked almost uncomfortable under her gaze. She didn’t understand why he was interested in spending time with her at all.

“Tell me about my powers being bound,” she said as she settled against the sand, looking out over the water and then back at him as he came to sit behind her, stroking the hair away from her neck.

“Are you sure you want to know?” he asked.

She nodded, shivering slightly at the feel of his fingers touching her skin.

“When you were born, some serious things had to take place to get you here, a lot of different powers at work. That power leaves a mark on a soul, especially when it is one that is born.”

“What do you mean?” she asked looking back at him as she settled against his chest.

“Well your parents are vampires, to get a vampire to be able to have a child, a living, breathing child, that’s a lot of work.”

“Like what?”

“Powers not of this world made you possible,” he said as he kissed her cheek and wrapped his arms around her.

“Like God?” she said incredulously and he chuckled slightly.

“Something of that nature. He’s the only one that can give the power for someone to create life. Either way, to create you, that power infused in you to make you what you are.”

“Which is what exactly? Am I witch or a vampire?” she asked and then laughed. “Or a god?”

“You’re all of those things Esmeri and then some,” he laughed. “You were a baby though, and without any idea of that power it became too much as your human emotions took over. There was an incident and you could have killed a lot of people if it wasn’t stopped. So, your parents bound your powers, they had Ava do it, and they never told you.”

He turned, moving her to her back and laid down next to her, his index finger caressing her lower lip.

“The problem now though, is they have used that binding to leave you alone and unprotected from the people trying to get to them. They have let you believe that you are nothing in their world. It is quite a shame.”

His head dipped and his lips brushed hers and she whimpered slightly as her heart sped up at the simplest of touches from him.

“Are you angry?” he asked, pulling back to look at her.

“Angry?” she asked back, trying out the word and shook her head. “No, I understand why they did it. I could have killed someone.”

“You should be angry,” he said, his eyes darkening slightly and her brow wrinkled at him.

“Why?”

“Because here you are, under constant surveillance, no freedom to make your own choices, go to the college of your choice, and for what reason?” he asked. “All because you cannot protect yourself. If they unbound your powers, you could protect yourself. So I’ll ask again, are you angry?”

Esmeri thought on this briefly and shrugged, shaking her head.

“No, I’m not angry. I’m plain.”

“Why would you ever think you are plain?” he asked, his face looking hurt.

“You clearly have never seen my mother,” she said.

“I have,” he started, her eyes widening at him in surprise, “she doesn’t hold a candle to your beauty, my child.”

He moved closer, closing the distance between them, his body coming to hover hers and Esmeri felt her heart begin to hammer in her chest.

“If you say so,” she said.

“I do, and my opinion is the one that matters anyway.”

“Why is that?”

“You’ll learn soon enough,” he said.

There was something dark in his eyes, something that cut Esmeri to the middle of her soul and she couldn’t control the scream that left her lips as he pinned her, his teeth bared as he sunk them into her neck.