Voices in My Head

Caveat: this page is intended for 18+ year olds, as some of my Outtakes may be for a mature audience as I progress into the adult dark fantasy series: THE REFLECTIVE.

Hi Readers,

I thought you guys might like a little taste of "outtakes" of a sort. These are some of the passages that I "hear" when my creativity's in high gear. Outtakes means what? It means these passages, comments, one-liners might end up in my book (or a version of them)... or not. It's just for fun. I'll update as the mood strikes so check back frequently.

*unedited*spoiler-free* just for my readers* you guys rock*


Elise caught sight of something that glittered in the wheaten grass, twinkling at her from the fading light of the day. The knee-high fronds slithered against her woolen skirt as it trailed through the blond sea that parted with her passage. She scooped up the object and immediately recognized it for what it was: a necklace of great intricacy, a lone jewel of meaning in the Outside, to be found by her in this singular moment that gasped like a stolen breath.

She held it between her fingers, admiring the delicate hammered feathers of a fine silver metal, the ancient symbol of catching one's dreams stamped on its structure in a rough circle with a finely woven spider web of metal. A deep green stone winked back at her.

Elise clasped it about her neck, the cold metal heating as it lay against the intersecting bones at the base of her throat. She gave a furtive glance about her person, moving into the border of the forest. Toward safety, toward The Clan of Ohio....


Instead, my suspicious nature took precedence. I took stock of my surroundings, watching my friends three vehicles pull up and th
ey piled out.

The rain had thinned, giving the day a dimmed and slightly off-kilter feel, the ambient light making the weather seem to float.

I watched the insects of salvation work over the rubble. I saw Bry rush to his parents, the Weller spawn cocooned safely in the gray wool blankets of shock-prevention. I noticed Terran's eyes widen to a point behind me.

When Gramps yelled at me in warning, I was already turning.

I'd always feel when I was older that if a moment could hang, suspended, captured in slow-motion... it was indeed that one.

I met the eyes of Frazier and jerked the chain of the dead to me, feeling the heat and connection of Jade at my back.
Then his hand fell on my arm.

“Sleep,” he whispered with a voice that brought slumber instantly.

I fought.

And lost....


Gramps shook his head slightly, the smoke from his cigarette making a loose spiral around his head, wrench in hand. He used it to punctuate his point, "You Zondoraes...,"  he looked Gary over with disdain, pointing the wrench at his chest, who was currently getting the love squeeze from one of my hastily raised zombies, "are really slow learners. Now," he took a drag, holding the thing like a joint and squinted through the wall of cigarette smoke, "but I got the cure for that."

Gramps looked at the zombie holding Gary and then leaned in real close. His low voice holding more menace than a loud one ever could have, "Tell me where the girl is or I'll start with your toenails."

Gary gave a hard swallow then shifted his eyes to mine. "Come on! This isn't right! You can't let this... thug of a grandpa have at my body parts because we got... zealous with a female..."

Actually, I so could. I put my nose an inch from his. "There's no 'letting' on this one Zondorae. It's more like, me not interfering with his excellence."

Gramps and I looked at each other and he stepped forward, crushing the cig under his foot casually. He stepped over it and swung the wrench high, the sun glinted off the thing as it arced downward.

My zombie didn't flinch when it hit....


"Julia... don't look at me like that," Scott's eyes bore down on her face with care, concern and anger.

"I'll look at you any way I want. After all," she cocked her head and pegged him with her bourbon eyes, smoldering with heat, hatred, "we're soulmates, right?" she spit with derision.

Scott's eyes narrowed. How could he be bound with someone like her? It wasn't possible, he wasn't the committing type.

Scott didn't choose this.

Julia read his expression. "Don't worry about it, Scott. You were the Big Ass Protector. You've done your Boy Scout duty, you can dump my ass, nothing is stopping you."

No... nothing was stopping him.

Except, Julia was his.

His to protect, his to take care of.

Eventually, his to love.

It wasn't about choice, it was a mandate from the fiber of his being, inexplicable, tangible.... and as he looked at her angry face, so obviously against her will....


June 20, 2012:

Garcia says this to Caleb:

"I doubted you when you were a boy... but I can't imagine a better man...."


AFTD Chicks are badasses too

There were simply too many. Too many dead, not enough weapons; even with Parker's help I couldn't rein in my emotions hard enough for control.

Then Jonesy sprung forward. "Who's in charge of this set of zombies?"

Parker and I looked at each other and shrugged as a wave of nauseating rot reached us like a spoiling tide landing to shore. Jonesy did the pre-barf gag at the stench. "Damn-man, whoever it is you need to shut his ass down! He can't raise shit that smells good!"

In my experience death always smelled bad.

The first corpse that was not under my liege came at Jonesy and he swung his arm up and bashed the thing in the jaw, cleanly breaking it under the weight of his cast. It popped off like a hanging door hinge and the blackness of its mouth opened like a cavern of coffin bait. All we were missing were the worms.

Somebody couldn't get the mouths right. Seemed to be epidemic.

When the girl came out from the middle of the corpses I felt the first surge of death energy wash over us and knew that we were in for it.

Jonesy hadn't noticed her yet because he was busy whining about the rotting sludge that got all over his cast (shouldn't have broken his arm then... duh). "Ah hell... I've got this snail trail of zombie goo all over my whiteness! It's covering signatures! Damn!" he hollered.

Jonesy looked up startled when a decidedly feminine voice said, "I certainly can raise a clean corpse but why should I when I can spread the rot all over the top of you boys?"

"Hey man... this is looking bad," Bry said. Parker just looked at him.

No shit, I thought without an ounce of humor.

"I can take her ass," Tiff said, eyeing her like a prize to be won.

"Try it," Corpse girl intoned.

"Okey-dokey," Tiff said as a leering grin took shape on her face and the gum went sailing into the air on a loogie toss that smacked one of the zombies in the forehead....

Jonesy's utter lack of self-awareness

You can't talk to that girl, Jones... she's got a boatload of coolness," Tiff said, snapping her gum like marching ants on pop rocks.

Jonesy was offended (as usual). "Yeah I can. Maybe she needs some of what I got."

This comment just begged for the question.

Don't ask, Tiff... just leave it a mystery, forever.

Tiff blew a mammoth bubble and asked. It was a compulsion, I swear.

"Swag baby, she needs my swag," Jonesy answered in that natural way of his, folding his arms across his chest like a supreme peacock. That would've worked awesome if his arm that no longer had the cast didn't look like a pickled turd against the flaming red of his shirt. 

Tiff took it all in, the sullen self-satisfaction, the crazy imprinted arm that stood out like a wart on his ass and said, "It's gonna take more than swag to bag that chick," Tiff said then paused as Jonesy geared up a head of steam to Defend his Male Pride (which suffered terribly around Tiff), "and I've been dying to ask..." we all leaned forward to hear her, "can you wipe your ass with that arm?"

You could have heard a pin drop. Tiff stood and slapped Jonesy on the back in a perfectly executed guy clap as she began to walk toward the swinging doors that led into the hall. Jonesy stood in the middle of the cafeteria and yelled after her, "Of course I can wipe my ass!"

The cool (and extremely hot girl) turned and looked at Jonesy. I was mesmerized as I watched him blush through skin that was almost black as she frowned at his verbal proof of ass-wiping mastery.

Then she swung her hair over her shoulder and I saw Sophie peek out from behind her and Jonesy's blush flamed to life again.

It was awesome beyond description. Just another day at the cafeteria...



The butterflies descended, floating in a lazy spiral as the sunlight laid an iridescent wash over their multicolored wings. The chubby arms of the baby girl swirled and pumped, slowing as they drew nearer. They landed softly on the rails of the basinet in a portentous group. Heralding the breath which froze in the parents' throats.

The moment swelled and grew in the stillness of the nursery. Rows of cradles pressed up one against the other as the parents watched the butterflies balance precariously on the wood.

Beautiful.... final.

She is Reflective,” the mother said mournfully.

Her mate gripped her hand just shy of painful and he answered, “Yes.”

Their gaze met in complete understanding. They knew what the future held for their daughter, a life as a mercenary, hunting and hunted. An honor and a privilege amongst their people.

Every parent's dream... and every parent's nightmare....


Jonesy being him... with his political UN-correctness in full swing....

"Phone. It. In," Jonesy told Carson.

"What... ya moron, phone what in?" Carson asked, totally stepping into the Jonester Logic.


"1-800- Reach Around," Jonesy said, completely pleased with himself. Archer groaned, knowing that was the tip of the homosexual iceberg.

"He's calling ya a fag man," Brody said.

Carson's eyes narrowed to slits as he reached for Jonesy's shirt and it didn't help that John had fallen off the cafeteria bench, landing in a klutzy pile on the floor, tears streaming at Carson's expense. As usual.

"Colon cowboy!" Jonesy said, barking out a laugh as he neatly avoided Carson's reach.

"Oh shit," Tiff said in slow horrific fascination.

"Man-wrangler," Archer said and Jonesy stopped in his tracks with his mouth open and stared at Lewis.

Lewis shrugged. "Gay guys come up with the best G, Jonesy"

"Hell!" Carson said, stalking Jonesy, "he's effing gay! Why are you telling me what to do?" Carson asked as he inched closer to Jonesy.

"Because man," Jonesy said, pinwheeling in graceful backward arcs, "we know he's gay... we suspect your ass..."

"Deeply suspect," Alex said with a wink, then added, "your ass."

"Yeah," Tiff said thoughtfully, snapping her gum two inches away from Carson's ear, "what he said, Hamilton."

"Argh!" Carson charged Jonesy in a loose circle in the cafeteria, lunch trays clattering like plastic sleet against the floor as the gang watched Carson implode in the cafeteria...


<spoiler> lay his strong face against Clara's swollen belly, his large palms holding either side like the precious treasure it was and his deep voice rumbled through the walls of her womb, "Clara, he kicks." The grin in his voice hidden by her stomach which arched in a graceful swell underneath breasts grown large for the babe she would bear.

For him, for them both.

He worked his hands around to the small of her back, a gentle heated press against the part of her that was small and tender with the extra weight she carried in her front. "Mayhap it is a she?" Clara asked, her tone conveying her humor over his assumption that the baby must be a he.

<Spoiler> raised his head, his intense blue eyes drilling her to the spot, the heat in them unmistakable. Her insatiable warrior, hot-blooded and virile. He pulled her against him gently, those hands that had moved over her body with tenderness, protected her against everything known to the sphere and beyond. They trapped her in an erotic press of flesh that singed and burned with their union, their biology mingling between them like food; the proof of which lay in the cradle of her body.

"I do not need two women to protect, but a male child to train up as Band," he said emphatically.

Clara's full lips turned up in a smirk, and she pressed closer still,  the fullness of her bosom against the hard planes of his chest and he groaned, his lips crushing hers like pressed velvet. When he raised his head he looked into her flushed face and whispered, "Minx," his strong hands kneading her hips as he gripped her tighter. 

Then he showed her exactly what that meant....


Ryan caught her before she had a chance to block his assault, nailing her gut then swinging his fist into her jaw, it was a glancing blow, thank Principal, or she'd have been out and at his mercy.

Ryan had none.

As it was Beth fell in a spinning arc backwards, landing with her palms behind her, blood splattering the mat they fought on. 

Ryan moved toward her, hatred the only expression in his eyes. Their final match played out in a sick parody, unfriendly eyes watching her from every corner of the mat.

"Get the fuck up, Jasper," Commander Rachett said through gritted teeth.

Beth swung her head back and forth to clear it, blood from the blow she'd just taken falling like scarlet rain beneath her position. 

Ryan smiled, his hand curling into abusive fists and spoke quietly so only she could hear, "This ends here, Jasper. The Reflective doesn't have room for mongrel females."

Heat ground up from her feet, her anger a boiling pot of rage, overflowing all over her, filling Beth with purpose.

Ryan flicked out the blade as smoothly as they'd been trained to do. Its mirrored surface shimmered in the low light.

"No blades!" Rachett bellowed too late. The unfair advantage of Ryan's size against her, his gender, dismissed.

When the weapon came out they finally noticed he wasn't playing fair. 

Well no shit, Beth thought, the last of her lucidity pegged on the surface of the blade.

Rachett moved in to stop his best soldier from gutting Beth as a justified elimination tactic but instead she let the heat slide out of her body like a focused spear and leapt.

Ryan's eyes widened and he threw the blade, it spun in the air and Beth followed its momentum, her body using the surface like an unlikely transporter.

To the others it looked like a shimmering ribbon of irridescent white as it slammed into the blade, her body disappearing as it collided with the metal.

The knife made a soft thunk as it landed on the mat.

Beth Jasper had vanished. Only her blood remained as grim testimony to her presence but moments before.

Rachett fisted Ryan's tunic in his hand, drawing him close. "You dumb fuck," he began with quiet menace, "all ya had to do was keep weapons out of it. You could have pummeled her into the mat. Now," his flat eyes locked with Ryan's, "she's jumped. She won."

"There's no way!" one of the Reflectives said quietly, "that's a six inch surface... she's a half-breed!"

"The Principal chooses who they will. There is no logic. That is why when we have an opponent, we do not underestimate their skills. Let this be a lesson to all that fight. Be ready," Rachett said, landing a leaden glance on Ryan one last time as he stalked out of the training facility.

Jeb Merrick watched as the last recruit filtered out. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair at the scene he'd just witnessed even as the beautiful Reflective came toward him, her hips swaying so he'd notice.

He did.

But even as her lush body moved toward him like water finding a crack in a stone, his mind wandered to the newest member of The Cause.

Beth Jasper, a jumper without compare....


  1. Love this voices insight page!

  2. Great... it's a crazy idea but I thought readers might dig it? :D Thanks for the feedback!

  3. Fantastic! Thanks for doing this.

  4. Love this page! It's kind of 'out there'... but hey, if it helps make more room in your head for more ideas, I say GO FOR IT!

  5. Lol! I *totally* need the room! I have these scenes taking up space in my brain and already have two more that need to expunge! Thanks... :D

  6. OMG!!! Gum as a weapon! LOVE it! Good to know about Jonesy, too, always TMI with him!...and...THE REFLECTIVE...wow! Just wow!

  7. Love it. Can't wait for the Reflective cover reveal!!!

  8. @ Anonymous... gum as a weapon... huh. You guys are really smart. I thought about gum as more of a staple item of Tiff's ;) I'm not really responsible for the kids' weirdness, ya know. They just go willy-nilly on a rampage!! lol!

    @Lori... me either! I'm dying not being able to put it up. Of course, that means the blurb needs to go up as well! :D soon...

  9. Gum is the perfect weapon!

  10. Replies
    1. Sheesh...you'd think I could remember how I did that!

      Nope...had to try again! (I know, the 'duh' part of my charm!

      Clara & Matthew-I had to wipe the steam off my glasses and the computer screen, all while breathing into a paper bag! You do 'grown-up' well!

      But, I have to say, 'Colon Cowboy' had me LOL!

      I LOVE this stuff in your head!

  11. Oh Boy, here we go! Kicking some but, jumping through a knife....

  12. This page makes me miss Caleb and the gang. I think I might have to have a re-read. At least of Whispers in honor of your TWO YEAR INDIE BIRTHDAY!!! Whoot! <3 Ya!

    1. Thanks Lori! <3 I miss them too... maybe sometime in 2014 I can revisit that series in a new way :)