Archive for the Story Category

The Barbarian Proud – To Find A Warrior

Posted in Blog Series, Dungeons And Dragons, Fantasy, Story, Writing on July 6, 2020 by darkjade68

Episode II

Doragon Kishu (Dragon Rider & Paladin)

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The Barbarian Proud

by DORAGON

EPISODE ONE

Episode II – To Find A Warrior

Proud and Seya made their way east through a white gray rocky terrain, Proud on a large brown mare named Heiress, and Seya on her grey stallion, Spirit.

‘So are you going to tell me about this dream?’ she asked him.

Proud was quiet for a moment more, then ‘We have to find a great warrior in a dark cavern east of here…’

‘The dream Proud?’ she repeated.

He looked over at her, ‘He was in it.’

She shakes her head, trying not to laugh, ‘This is so unlike you, you have no idea how strange this is,’ she replied.

‘I know.’

********

That night they set camp amongst the rocks.

Seya being a ranger, did all the cooking whilst traveling…

…while this night, Proud sat and looked at the sky.

Seya noted his odd behavior…

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Adventures Of Vilven Ledsong (Chapter XIV) He’s Good

Posted in Adventures Of Vilven Ledsong, Dungeons And Dragons, Fantasy, Fantasy Novel, Story, Writing on May 19, 2020 by darkjade68

Doragon Kishu (Dragon Rider & Paladin)

jojo1

This D & D Campaign Began Over 2 Years Ago, And Continues… This Is The Tale Of How It All Began, Written/Retold by my Player!

Find All Earlier Chapters HERE!

At Beaden’s disgruntled request they made their way to the tavern of Willant, Beaden pushing his way past them to lead like a dehydrated horse.

Vilven stared at his back as he rushed through. She went along with the group decision, though she wasn’t sure she was all that excited about it. Vilven had never seen a tavern before the one in Warden, and after that experience she felt taverns were nice enough, but she found herself more fascinated by the people of Willant. It was as Grid had told her, these elves seemed to hold no initial resentment toward them. Instead, they looked pleasantly toward them with gentle, peaceful eyes. Though, Vilven noticed, they did look at her

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The Paladin & The Rogue – Episode III

Posted in Blog Series, Dungeons And Dragons, Fantasy, Story, Writing on May 16, 2020 by darkjade68

Doragon Kishu (Dragon Rider & Paladin)

THE PALADIN & THE ROGUE

by DORAGON

Episode I

Episode II

EPISODE III

The Rogue Girl appointed herself as ‘on watch’, being the Paladin Sir Stalos had laid down and gone straight to sleep.

“He hasn’t even asked me my name yet, what kind of Knight is this…” She spoke, as she sat and leaned back against the main tree that kept them from the rain.

An hour or so later, her gut told her she was being watched…

…when suddenly a crossbow bolt struck the tree right by her head!

Her eyes went wide, “Sir Stalos! We have company!”

With this the Paladin systematically rose from his slumber, clutching his long sword with both hands, and eyes glowing white glancing at the bold in the tree, “Hobgoblins…”

At his feet is his breast plate, but he’s still wearing his chainmail.

He looks over at the girl whose climbing the…

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FROST RHEALM Podcast (Episode 8) ‘Enter The Villains’

Posted in Dungeons And Dragons, Fantasy, Frost Rhealm, Podcast, Story, Writing with tags on May 13, 2020 by darkjade68

My Latest Podcast Episode!

Doragon Kishu (Dragon Rider & Paladin)

Episode VIII of my ‘Frost Rhealm’ inspired Podcast, ‘Enter The Villains’

‘Frost Rhealm’ Episode VIII ‘Enter The Villains’

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The Paladin & The Rogue – Episode II

Posted in Dungeons And Dragons, Fantasy, Fiction, Story, Writing with tags on May 11, 2020 by darkjade68

Doragon Kishu (Dragon Rider & Paladin)

THE PALADIN & THE ROGUE

by DORAGON

Episode I

EPISODE II

THE TILEXIAL FOREST

Sir Stalos continues his trek northward, the rain continuing to pour down upon him, getting worse the further north he rides.

The cloaked girl running just enough to keep up with his horse…

…he brings it to a halt, and faces her.

“Why are you following me…” he spoke slightly bugged.

“Aren’t you a Paladin? Shouldn’t you offer to put me on your horse with you,” she spoke flashing those dark eyes, hoping to convince him.

“I am not with the Order of the Red Phoenix,” he replied, and began to turn northward once more.

“I know… Your tabard is blank… But you’re still a Paladin, right?” she replied.

He faces her once more, “What is it you want, how do you know I’m heading anywhere you’d want to be?”

“North is good enough,” she spoke…

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‘Mady’s Storm’ (Novella) Chapters 13 & 14

Posted in Fiction, I Died Once, Mady's Storm, Novella, Self Publishing, Story, The Written Word, Writer, Writing on February 21, 2020 by darkjade68

mady-cover2

My Novella ‘Mady’s Storm’ Continued

Mady’s Storm

A Novella

by James Mahoney (DarkJade)

Chapters 1 & 2

Chapters 3 & 4

Chapters 5 & 6

Chapters 7 & 8

Chapters 9 & 10

Chapters 11 & 12

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Family

 

The nightmares still seem to haunt me sometimes…

I can still see the whole scene; I even remember the feeling of the water around me, and remember vividly the sound of the gunshots meant to kill me…

Even after this long….

Some stones left unturned?

I hope not.

I sit up, holding the blanket close to my chest.

I can see the streaks of snow falling, and my window is covered in frost.

The Christmas lights have really begun to sprout up all over the city…

Funny how much warmer people seemed to get towards one another the closer it gets to Christmas…

I think I’m going to like celebrating holidays…

At least maybe one day a year will remind me, and return me to those nights in front of the fireplace with my father.

A Fireplace…

I don’t want to be alone in my apartment on Christmas, I find.

No one should be alone on Christmas.

*

It was that night that I decided to get out of the apartment, and find myself a home.

I looked for a home outside of New York City.

After about a week, I had, at last, found the house I decided to be mine…

It was three stories high, and had a huge fireplace.

I moved in right away.

The kitchen was beautiful too…

I had visions of learning to cook big, delicious meals…

But instead, I had hired a cook…

Then a maid, and a driver…

I even sent a note to Rabia and his family in Africa,

Inviting them to come and stay with me for the holidays.

To my pleasant surprise, they were thrilled to come…

And before I knew it, I had a house full of people…

A huge Christmas tree, decorated brilliantly in the living room…

Perhaps I am building my own family right here in America…

And it feels…

Wonderful.

 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Contribution

 

Before I knew it, “The Sam and Scarlett Charity Ball” had arrived… The one for the Children’s Hospital…

I show up at the ball in a white and black ball gown, black high heels, diamond earrings, and a simple, pearl necklace.

My long, dark hair is up, in a tight bun.

And a deep red lipstick stains my lips.

I feel… Elegant.

The wolves are definitely out tonight… But I don’t let it bother me…

Instead I sip my bright red punch, listening to many, many wealthy, business people talk about money.

Apparently it makes the world go round…

But I also meet many of the children’s parents, as the Children’s Hospital Director said I would.

They are so very appreciative, and I, fairly speechless, become so humbled by their warmth…

*

The benefit is a huge success so far…

Some 350 of New York’s wealthy and famous show up, and many of them give healthy contributions.

I am thrilled, and feel… proud.

I think my father would be proud if he could see me… Who knows, maybe he can.

But for every contributor, there is also those that do not contribute when they find out the event is in honor of a woman.

This era has much to learn about simply being human.

But I know better.

The dark haired, blue eyed minx from Virginia has done good…

But some won’t leave it at that.

Some can’t leave it at that.

“Hello, again, Ms. Monroe.”

It is the New York reporter that had followed me to Virginia, and wrote that terrible article in the paper about me…

Randy McCormick.

“Hello Mr. McCormick,” I say politely.

He shakes my hand with a manic smile.

“I thought you already got your story,”

“Oh… There are always new stories to be had, when there are interesting people around, like yourself,” he replies, baring his teeth.

“I see… Well, another time perhaps,” I speak as I walk away.

Surely I’m not going to let one little news weasel mess with this night.

Not on your life…

**************************************************

THE CHRONICLES OF MADY;

BOOK 1 – ‘I Died Once’ Novella Available @ Amazon HERE

BOOK 2 – ‘Mady’s Storm’ Novella Available @ Amazon HERE

‘Mady’s Storm’ (Novella) Chapters 11 & 12

Posted in Fiction, I Died Once, Mady's Storm, Novella, Self Publishing, Story, The Written Word, Writer, Writing on February 20, 2020 by darkjade68

mady-cover2

My Novella ‘Mady’s Storm’ Continued

Mady’s Storm

A Novella

by James Mahoney (DarkJade)

Chapters 1 & 2

Chapters 3 & 4

Chapters 5 & 6

Chapters 7 & 8

Chapters 9 & 10

CHAPTER ELEVEN

A Time of Giving

 

I sit alone in the dark of my apartment, looking out my window as the bright colors of the holiday lights flicker.

Christmas is almost here.

My father didn’t necessarily celebrate holidays.

No, for us everyday seemed like some sort of holiday.

Perhaps living in Africa was the holiday. It may have been easier, existing far from the material realities displayed in Europe, and in the States.

But it seems Christmas is more than that. It is a time of sharing…

A time of giving…

*

The Hospital Director, a tall, grey haired man, shows me around the different floors of the hospital.

I decided to wear a dark blue, professional skirt, and a cream colored blouse for the occasion, though the chill outside is particularly unbearable.

“We’re doing our best with the little amount of funds our hospital receives,” The director says to me.

We pass by several open rooms, where sick children can be seen in their hospital beds.

Several are playing board games with family members, trying to celebrate the spirit of the holidays.

My mind drifts back to Africa, where sights like this are common, sick children and their families huddled together in little rooms….

I feel a sense of belonging, a connection. It is as if I am no different…

I realize, in this moment, that humanity is not so different than in Africa. And my father had always helped the sick there.

“Most people that donate money towards hospitals, or medical research, do so within regular hospitals… Often funds go towards heart conditions, and/or life threatening diseases that usually have more to do with adults, than they do with children,” the Director explains. “Sadly, not much of it trickles over to the Children’s Hospital”

“I understand” I say “Well, I’d like to donate $100,000 to the Children’s Hospital,” I had my mind made up long before he mentioned any of this, but seeing these children made me offer more than I had originally planned.

I smile inside as the Director freezes, wide eyed and speechless “$100,000?” he asks.

“As soon as possible,” I continue. I open my purse, and hand him my card.

“Here’s the number to my Financial Adviser, her name is Brett Stevens. She’s very nice. She has been given specific instructions to wire your hospital the money, I’ll let her know the amount once I reach my apartment, then call anytime.”

“I don’t know what to say, Miss Monroe… Your generosity is overwhelming,” He replies.

“Your acceptance of the money and compassion for these children are enough,” I finish as I look into the room of a sick child. A young boy of four or five with gorgeous, golden hair, he turns his head and we lock eyes.

All at once I feel not only that I matter, but I am realizing that America is so much more than I once believed….

And that maybe I do have a purpose outside of being my father’s daughter…

“That being the case, we’d like to throw a Christmas Ball in your honor, if that’d be alright?” speaks the Director, breaking my stare with the child. “It will give you an opportunity to meet some of the children’s parents whose lives you’re affecting,” He explains.

“I‘ll agree to it, if you make it a Charity Ball…” I tell him as the idea pops in my head. “Perhaps we can drum up some additional donations, or charitable souls, and really get your research on track…”  I say as I remove one of my gloves, and the shake his hand.

Is this what it means to have money? Maybe the concept was completely different than I had ever thought, the power, much more altruistic and a responsibility than I had ever known.

My focus shifts to my surroundings then, and I grimace in response.

“Also, I don’t want to cross any lines, but you might consider painting this place using more reds, yellows, blues, greens and oranges…” I suggest as we head for the exit “Greys and faded pinks are very depressing I find… Not that I am educated in such things,”

“No, I believe you’re right… And studies are starting to say such things,” the Director replies excitedly.

It is like I cannot stop wanting to help, wanting to give….

“Also… I have a plantation in Africa…” I nearly blurt out “I’ll have them ship some professional photos of the landscapes there, for you to hang in each of the children’s rooms… Just let my Financial Adviser know how many rooms you have, we’ll put one in for each bed in the room.

Before the Director says anything, I speak again, “Africa is truly amazing… Every child deserves to experience it in any way that is possible.”

“Yes… Certainly,” the Director replies, but doesn’t seem too enthusiastic with the thought. People have their thoughts of Africa, I know. Why do you think I wanted to send Rabia back?

I say my goodbye, and walk out into the cold, winter wind. I turn my head a final time to look at the hospital silhouette in the dark, grey sky.

 

CHAPTER TWELVE

Questions

 

I sit alone again, a small glass of brandy in one hand, a cigarette in the other.

My mind drifts back to the money I donated to the Children’s Hospital.

For the first time, I feel there’s an actual use for my parent’s money…

Don’t get me wrong… I know that money doesn’t grow on trees…

And I know that my parents wouldn’t want me to give it all away.

So I won’t.

But I would like to give once in a while, which is why I brought on a financial adviser to help my money grow…

For that is something that I know absolutely nothing about.

A Career…

I’ve never had one.

I am still very young, it probably wouldn’t hurt to have one…

But what?

Lately the passing of my father seems to have hatched a whole world of questions…

And very few answers.

But what answers do I really need anyway?

**************************************************

THE CHRONICLES OF MADY;

BOOK 1 – ‘I Died Once’ Novella Available @ Amazon HERE

BOOK 2 – ‘Mady’s Storm’ Novella Available @ Amazon HERE

‘Mady’s Storm’ (Novella) Chapters 9 & 10

Posted in Fiction, I Died Once, Mady's Storm, Novella, Self Publishing, Story, The Written Word, Writer, Writing on February 19, 2020 by darkjade68

mady-cover2

My Novella ‘Mady’s Storm’ Continued

Mady’s Storm

A Novella

by James Mahoney (DarkJade)

Chapters 1 & 2

Chapters 3 & 4

Chapters 5 & 6

Chapters 7 & 8

CHAPTER NINE

Passion

 

Even though I am 23, I have hardly had any experience, nor interest in men.

But in New York, I received a quick education of them.

For the most part, I do not find them altogether useful…

At least not useful to me.

As I stand upon my apartment balcony, cigarette in one hand, brandy in the other, overlooking the vast and beautiful city lights below.

I think of my father.

He had shown me that good men do exist.

But I’m starting to have my doubts that any of them are here in New York City.

I decide it is best to not think of men, and just get ready for bed…alone

*

Red dress…

Black hair…

Warm hands…

Soft lips upon my neck…

Who was this man that had come to me in my dreams…

And what was he doing to my mouth, neck… body.

The image fades away, and I am awake, sweating heavily in my bed.

“Passion,” is the only word that leaves my mouth.

I’m starting to believe that I, as a woman, or at least as a human… am bottling up some sort of deep heated intensity.

And in New York, this could lead a young woman such as myself to an awful lot of ‘frivolous’, unadulterated, meaningless, ….interactions.

I walk to my bathroom, and find tossing cold water on my face cools me down a little.

The beads of water drip down my neck, and onto my chest.

“This will not do” I speak to myself.

Perhaps it is my soul that is hungry for something, not my body. Perhaps I need something other than sex to quench my thirst.

….Or at least, this is what I tell myself.

But what?

“Flying” I speak with a smile.

 

CHAPTER TEN

Airborne

 

I enter the plane hangar of a small New York airport, planes everywhere…

I decided to wear a mid-length, fairly slinky looking, black dress….

Maybe it wasn’t the best idea, as the many pilots that inhabit this place stop whatever they are doing as I pass by.

“Holy hell” One of them mumbles.

I smile slightly…

But, I take flying more seriously than that…

So, I quickly find a bathroom, and change into the Pilot gear that I had picked up for the occasion.

This toned me down quite a bit… And I made sure to get an outfit that was a tad large on me, using a belt to secure it to my hips.

This, at least, hid my womanly curves.

And would, hopefully, stop the jaws from dropping long enough to get one of these guys to take me up for a flight

*

I walk into the bathroom after the flight to change back into my ‘leave nothing to the imagination’ dress.

My mind drifts back to the plane ride…this time not over the illustrious plains of Africa, but over the tall, skyscrapers of New York City….

It was amazing…

But…

It wasn’t the same. No. I wasn’t the same.

Why would I be, though?… I lost my father.

Losing a parent is one of the hardest things a person must deal with in their life…

And some people have never even met their parents…

I feel lost…

And confused…

And sad…

And …lonely.

And these are the things I’m thinking about after an amazing flight over New York City?

…Therapy?

Not now… I’m not ready for that kind of emotional, sure to be traumatic, mind delving.

No…

For now…

I guess I will come flying once a week…

Hell… I might even buy myself a plane. I have the money.

**************************************************

THE CHRONICLES OF MADY;

BOOK 1 – ‘I Died Once’ Novella Available @ Amazon HERE

BOOK 2 – ‘Mady’s Storm’ Novella Available @ Amazon HERE

‘Mady’s Storm’ (Novella) Chapters 7 & 8

Posted in Fiction, I Died Once, Mady's Storm, Novella, Self Publishing, Story, The Written Word, Writer, Writing on February 18, 2020 by darkjade68

mady-cover2

My Novella ‘Mady’s Storm’ Continued

Mady’s Storm

A Novella

by James Mahoney (DarkJade)

Chapters 1 & 2

Chapters 3 & 4

Chapters 5 & 6

CHAPTER SEVEN

Back to New York

 

“I must find a way…” I say out loud waking from a half- sleep.

“Excuse me, Miss?” replies Rabia

“Oh… Nothing,” I respond, realizing I must have been talking in my sleep.

I then look over at Rabia who is smiling at me.

“It is time you went home to Africa,” I say.

Rabia’s face becomes serious.

“I will not leave you, Miss. Not now. Not ever.” he explains.

“I insist Rabia… This American world of merchandise, and soulless chatter, is no place for the likes of you,”

“Nor for the likes of you, Miss… If I may so,”

“You may say so… And you are most likely right…” I reply with a slight smile. “But I will not be returning to Africa.”

Rabia is taken off guard, and looks at me shocked, even slightly hurt.

“And your family and wife await you there…” I continue. “It has already been over a month since you have seen them,”

“But, Miss…” Rabia tries to interject.

“No buts… ”

So he falls silent.

*

I sit alone at a small table in a New York City cafe.

Watching the people go by in a grey swirl.

A day after our return from Virginia, Rabia boarded a plane for Africa.

So it was just me now.

I have still not found a hired bodyguard… But I do have this…

I look into my black purse, where there is a shiny silver revolver.

I had learned how to fire it well from my father.

I pick up the newspaper again idly, the picture of me getting off the plane with Rabia on the cover.

“WHITE AFRICAN PRINCESS ARRIVES HOME IN NEW YORK AFTER VISITING VIRGINIA, HER PLACE OF SECRETS”

As I feared, when I returned to New York, the story of the ‘Young Heiress from Virginia, and Africa’ was indeed the major headline.

But I would not turn tail and run…

No… I would face, and accept this shallow shell of a newspaper tale.

 

CHAPTER EIGHT

The Wolves

 

Sadly, more than anything else, the newspaper tale seems to have drawn out many men…

Fortune hunters…

Or what I refer to as ‘wolves’, more interested in my fortune, than they were my sordid, and colorful past.

This made my nights at ‘The Clockwork Tavern’ both entertaining, and a bit bothersome.

But at least I would never have to pay for a drink again.

A tall light haired man with a mustache, a cowboy hat, and a light grey dapper suit approaches me.

“Ms. Caroline Monroe?” he asks.

I do not reply.

“May I sit?”

“Why not?” I reply, and as he sits, I stand and start to leave.

“Mrs. Monroe…” he says quickly as he stands again “My name is Rex Taylor…” he says as he takes off his hat, and puts it over his chest.

I stop, and turn back toward him.

“Should this mean something to me?” I reply. After two weeks’ worth of ‘wolves’ hunting me, I’m not exactly receptive.

“My father bought your mother’s estate” he says like that explains everything.

I stare at him for a moment, and then approach him, and offer my hand.

Instead of shaking it, he kisses it… another wolf.

“Forgive me, Sir… Since the paper ran its story about me, I’ve had no end of ‘wolves’ hunting me for my fortune,” I explain.

“Are you sure it isn’t your dark blue eyes, dark hair and figure they’re after?” he says with a smile and a wink.

Is this some kind of joke?

This guy is a smooth one… And so I decide to play his game.

I move back and sit.

“Only wealthy one’s such as yourself.” I candidly reply.

“Touché,” he responds, bowing his head a bit.

“Well… Listen…” he says as he put his hat back on, “I’m in town for a couple days, and I thought I might take you out to dinner while I’m here,”

“Alright… When?”  I respond, surprising him.

*

I wined and dined with Rex Taylor, son to the millionaire Texas rancher, for a few days.

It was alright…It was okay.

But he quickly bored, and irritated me.

He was quite full of himself, after all… and he spent half of our time together hitting on the poor unsuspecting waitresses.

But this may have just been his way to attempt to make me jealous.

But I’d have to actually have cared to be jealous…

Soon Mr. Rex Taylor, and his ‘charming’ hat, and mustache, would head back to his home in Texas… Or was it Montana?

Defeated by a girl… That he never stood a chance to get.

And chances are, I’d never see him again…

Men…

**************************************************

THE CHRONICLES OF MADY;

BOOK 1 – ‘I Died Once’ Novella Available @ Amazon HERE

BOOK 2 – ‘Mady’s Storm’ Novella Available @ Amazon HERE

‘Mady’s Storm’ (Novella) Chapters 5 & 6

Posted in Fiction, I Died Once, Mady's Storm, Novella, Self Publishing, Story, The Written Word, Writer, Writing on February 17, 2020 by darkjade68

mady-cover2

My Novella ‘Mady’s Storm’ Continued

Mady’s Storm

A Novella

by James Mahoney (DarkJade)

Chapters 1 & 2

Chapters 3 & 4

CHAPTER FIVE

Leaving Virginia

 

Rabia and I left after the short visit, and settled into a hotel near the train station.

The next morning, I interviewed three men that had been recommended to me by a local agency that found men such as I required. ‘Protectors’, or what some called ‘bodyguards’.

These interviews went on for several days, one, two, even three men a day. But to no avail.

To be honest with you, the whole thing felt strange.

So I gave up, and prepared to head back to New York, which seems the place to be if one needed to be in America.

But not before running into Randy McCormick…A Newsman from New York.

Apparently, he was assigned to me because of my financial status…

I guess these kinds of things aren’t kept private in America.

And he’d followed me from New York, to here in Virginia.

Kicking back and watching my doings….

A creepy thing, a thing that definitely justifies me wanting to have some sort of protection at my side.

“Mrs. Caroline Monroe?” he says to me, as Rabia and I sit waiting for our train to the airport.

I do not react, nor respond.

“It’s Mady,” Rabia suddenly says, who seems as irritated as I am.

“Daughter of Scarlett Horris?” McCormick continues to question.

“And Sam Monroe… Yes,” I finally reply, looking off into the distance, hoping that with sheer will I can manifest our train to be quicker.

“Right,” he says, as he shuffles through his notes, “Part owner of the Monroe Diamond Mine in Africa, right?” he adds.

“What is it you require of me, Sir?” I ask curtly.

“Well… I was wondering if I might ask you a few questions,” he says.

If not now, then someday I would have to answer questions in regards to my past… So I decide now is as good a time as any.

“Continue,” I reply.

And so he does.

*

A few minutes later he had asked questions about my Stepfather who mysteriously disappeared in Africa eight plus years ago,

about my mother’s body that had at last been recovered from the lake she was put in,

and about my father… Surprisingly, these were the questions that bothered me most.

Now, I simply ignore him, even as he asks more and more questions.

Funny… I never did consider how the newspapers would come into play with my coming to America.

Or rather that they would at all.

An oversight that my father would surely have warned me about, if he was still alive.

Then again, he probably assumed I’d spend the rest of my days in Africa.

But no, he was the reason I went there…

And he is the reason I stayed and lived there.

I love Africa. But without him, the sun would not share its light…

And the majestic landscapes would merely serve as a reminder of what I had lost…

“Is that all?” I ask the newsman, standing as the train approaches.

“Uh… Yes… What’s next for you now, if I may be so bold?” he asks as I board the train with Rabia.

“If I knew… I’m not sure that I would tell you, Mr. McCormick…” I reply.

He laughs slightly as he slides his pencil behind his ear.

“Good day to you, Sir,” I say in parting. 

 

CHAPTER SIX

Memory

 

Mady and her father sit by the living room fireplace in his plantation home.

“Mady…” he says as he looks deep into the firelight.

“Yes, Father?” Mady replies from the chair across from him, looking up from her book.

“If anything should ever happen to me… Or…” with this he looks at her.

“Father… Nothing shall ever happen to you,” she replies.

“But if it does,” he continues.

“I will survive,” she responds confidently.

“Are you sure?” he adds.

“Yes father…” with this Mady rises from her chair, kneels down by him, and takes his hand

“You have shown me love. You have shown me beauty in its rawest form. You have taught me inner peace… something I never thought I’d ever have,” Mady explains.

“But Mady…” he replies.

“Father… I will survive… I will continue forward.”

I shall find a way…

 

I must find a way.

**************************************************

THE CHRONICLES OF MADY;

BOOK 1 – ‘I Died Once’ Novella Available @ Amazon HERE

BOOK 2 – ‘Mady’s Storm’ Novella Available @ Amazon HERE