Christina E. Rundle on Amazon

Saturday, March 28, 2015

Chasing Shadow Segment 2

Chasing Shadow: Shadow Puppeteer Book  Second Segment: CLICK HERE for more sample chapters

Read First Segment: Click Here


The next song was upbeat, but the lyrics woven into the trance beat were gloomy. The sound waves were so solid in my mind that it pulled me off course to the dance floor. I didn’t have to push anyone to find my place among my peers. The pink and blue lights rolled over our heads. I stretched my hands upward wanting to feel them against my fingertips and down my arms.

My metaphysical shields kept me separated from this growing union. Metaphysical shields can be in any form. Mine were in the form of light energy. I focused on those woven lines of color until they lifted from me, dispersing into the weaving lights overhead. An immediate coldness followed the release, allowing me to surrender to the music.

The liberation didn’t last long. Something very angry and very hunger hurled through me. It was like a nest of ants erupting under my skin, itching and aching at the same time. It knocked me right out of the trance.

Bodies crushed me in their wild frenzy. They arched their backs and jumped with their hands over their heads, reaching towards the ceiling where something large rested in the shadowed cross beams. Their mixed emotions left them in fumes that made my chest constrict and eyes sting.

I was an open bottle letting these emotions in and my head started buzzing like I swam too deep and chlorine water was burning the inside of my nose. It took a great deal of effort to tilt my head and look up at the ceiling again. Something was there. Despite what the psychiatrists said, I wasn’t imagining this.

It was difficult concentrating on my shields. It was like pulling wet clothes on. It felt nearly impossible to draw the comforting lines of light back over my aura with so much energy pounding at me.

Empathy never hurt so badly. These mixed emotions were a raw, skinned beast and the surface was so sensitive that every tiny movement drew acutely over nerves. I stopped trying to breath. It was impossible with the onslaught of power. It clogged my airways so thoroughly.

The pressure lent desperation and I closed my eyes, letting the dancers bump me side to side as I focused on every individual light string that usually protected me. The colors grew brighter in my head and with each new strand, the stress in my chest started to ease. The constriction on my lungs let go and I took one shaky breath after another.

I wasn’t out of the clear. My emotions were a mess. The empathy residue was too strong even for me. Anger and suffering made it impossible to think. These thoughts weren’t mine, not mine at all; but they howled at me. They filled every bit of my emptiness with uncontrollable desire for pain, for rage, for death.

I was a bottle at sea. I was the only one here filled with so many rivaling emotions that I couldn’t find my individuality. I needed something sharp. One deep cut and my voice would be louder than theirs. It was the only quick solution.

Plastic wings, strange dangling antennae and other odd costume pieces whacked my face as I fought with the crowd to get off the dance floor. The music shifted beat and the crowd did too. An elbow flew up smacking me in the nose.

The music swallowed my scream. The immediate pressure made my eyes water. My nose throbbed and I couldn’t stop the flow of blood dripping between my fingers.

But the voices quieted, if just a little.

“Hey, you okay?” a male voiced against my ear.

Tuesday, March 24, 2015

Warehouse Snacks, Chocolate Bunnies and Writing

We went to Costco on Friday for dog food, but stayed to sample foods and drinks from the venders. In a perfect world, there would be more vegan samples, but since this world isn't something I've created through hours of typing, there were samples I had to pass on. Emory informed me how great they were. We did try a delicious raisin bread with butter. The breads they make at the warehouse are wonderfully heavy.

We bought our four legged babies some salmon dog pellets. Mozart has a super strange relationship with fish. He likes eating fish flavored everything, but he'll cry while he's doing it and if I take it away thinking he doesn't like it, he'll cry longer. I set out a bowl of their new pellets and they went through them quickly. This bag isn't going to last long, despite promising Emory that there was no way two dogs under 15 lbs would eat that much food.

I went shopping with Ann on Saturday and found so many awesome things, like a new black shirt that is age appropriate. I also bought a necklace, some bracelets, a ghost Ty Baby, tons of new cookie cutters and two cutters that I'm not sure are cookie cutters or Play Doh cutters. I bought a tiny toy car for my nephew because he requested a new toy. There are a few other things I brought home and are now having to be boxed up for when we move... move date is still not determined.

Dollar Tree has the delicious Russell Stover chocolates and Strawberry Cream Peeps. I consumed six chocolate dipped marshmallows and three strawberry cream Peeps in 30 minutes sitting. I love my sugar. Emory finished a box of Strawberry Peeps too, so I think it's in our best interest if I go and get us some more.

Had the night alone, so we made biscuits and used a coconut spread we bought in Ventura on our biscuits. It was to-die-for good. I hope we can do this again in the very near future. Seldom we can splurge without having to worry about the rest of the commune.

Writing Update

Untitled Romance: Watching YouTube videos to get a better idea on my topic of choice. The project isn't due until early next year. I'm hoping this will give me time to really flush my topic out.

Friday, March 20, 2015

WereWolf Forbidden NEW RELEASE



Read Sample Chapters on Amazon!

Mercer Long Horn, alpha of the Texas werewolves, wasn’t expecting the ominous call at midnight from the one person he loathes the most, his father. Hota, Mission Leader of the North American Werewolves, has something important to tell him, but before he can, he disappears in a fire that kills hundreds. Only problem, there’s no body and Mercer is now being accused of murder. There are hints of magic at play and only one person can prove he’s innocent. That’s if the assassin doesn’t kill him first.

The window of opportunity to steal the legendary Hera’s Nectar Stone was small, but one Wolffey was willing to risk against his better judgment and the orders of the Unseelie Queen. He had everything calculated except an old target walking back into his life with a suicidal request. With demon venom in his system and the faeries precariously close to impeding on his goals, werewolves were the last creatures he wanted to deal with.

Wolffey pronounced: Wolf-Fae

Dark Fantasy, Gay.

Tuesday, March 17, 2015

Movies, Kitchen Fires and Writing

It was one of those nights when going to the movies seemed like a brilliant and much needed vacation from reality. We went to Super Savors to see what was playing. When I was a child, Super Savors Theater(s) were only $1. Now, the movies are $3, which is still cheaper than the $10-$11.00 at the regular theater. Now if you go before a certain time of day, the regular theaters can be $5.

We decided to see Night at the Museum 3. For as cute as I expected it to be, and it fully delivered with the laughs, I couldn't believe how much it hurt to see Robin Williams on the screen. He's like family. He's been in my life since I was a baby and to see that face that makes everything okay and to know that it wasn't okay for him, it just kills me. I feel like I've lost my uncle, the one that I always looked forward to seeing. I guess it made me painfully aware that I really loved this man for all his brilliance and utterly perfect timing. Just Wow.

As far as the movie goes, I didn't want to leave the world created by this magical amulet and cast of characters. From the way it ended, I think this might be the last one. I'll be extremely excited if there is another, even if a few cast members are no longer present.

Flatmate Nadine is in Reno and then heading up to Vegas. Lucky Ducky! Flatmate Michael is in and out. He'll be here this weekend with the children. Flatmate Ann... Well, last night, I turned to Emory and said, "Do you smell that?" We followed it out into the living room where Ann started a fire in the microwave, burning a peanut butter, chocolate concoction. She's addicted to peanut butter and realized she could make her own Reeces Buttercups. We had to air the house out and it still has this smell of burning plastic and other materials.

Happy St. Patrick's Day. Going to celebrate the day with Italians hosting, one German and a few Irish folk. We're doing a potluck, but I'll probably have to bring something special because the Sheriff and I are vegetarians. 

Writing Update

Horror Novel: Just checked in with a retired homicide police officer who is willing to answer my police procedure questions. He is also willing to read the book after it's finished.

Romance: I have a contemporary romance I'm working on. It's last minute for a possible project that might come into fruition. If not, this was stretch my limits on a subject that I never thought to write about. Also, I have a resource that I'll be checking in with to help guide my project. I love living resources.

Urban Fantasy Novella: Revision Finished and now on hold for tiny breathing break before editing

HBA book 2: Chapters 4/30 finished. On hold.

Saturday, March 14, 2015

Cookie Munchies and Seaweed Yummies

I’ve been experiencing major cookie munchies these last two months. I’m going to say it’s Girl Scout Fever. I’m so addicted to those cookies that I’d spend my last bit of cash on them. I tried to find a healthier way to deal with the major cookie = $$ issue, but I’ve only traded Girl Scout cookies for grocery store cookies, which is still $$ if I eat them like a bear getting ready for hibernation.

My friend just introduced me to the wonders of roasted seaweed. Sadly, I could eat bunches of this because there is something extremely gratifying in crunching down on the fragile green leaves. I bought an individual package because that’s how our grocery store sells them and I finished it within two days. I can see this becoming my new addiction. I saw three packages of seaweed at the dollar store up by where my mom works. That’s a twenty minute drive from the house, due to the construction for the light rail coming through. The light rail is supposed to have a connection point by the mall near me, but all the construction traffic is yucky. I need to go down and get myself some packages of seaweed so I can munch while working. It might also be a huge benefit to bring those to the movies and forgo the $17 tubes of popcorn. Is it at $17? It always feels like I’m buying a pass to Disneyland when I’m getting food at the concession stand. 

I was watching a show on bizarre foods and one of the episodes featured Arizona. Living here, I decided that would be interesting to watch. Maybe I’d get an idea for date night on something Emory and I would like to try. I’d like to point out, that the food really was too much for me, because most of what it showed, I’d never swallow. I’m not much of a meat eater and my reasons I’ll keep to myself. Last year, we went to an ostrich festival and I was tempted to try ostrich, but we never did. This year, I can tell you that I wouldn’t be able to. I’m slowly moving to full vegetarian and almost 50% vegan; almond milk, no cheese, etc. 

Writing Update:


Tuesday, March 10, 2015

Dark Sky, Oracles and Writing

When in doubt ask the Oracle. It’s been a while since I’ve asked the oracle cards or even the tarot for advice. When I went out with my very close friend, she mentioned that she kept drawing cards with the same advice, so I decided to do a drawing and see what it said. My card was Flying with Poe, which ended up telling me that I needed to start taking risks. This is interesting, because I’ve fallen into a very “non-risk-taker” life style these last two years. So that said, the card mentioned that when I get a phone call asking me to do something outside my comfort zone, something I don’t really believe I’m qualified to do, I need to take it.

I play it safe. I make charts of the pros and cons to everything, but I now find myself standing stagnant when I should’ve made a few life changes at least a year ago. The clock is ticking and I’m still on the same, dangerously blah path. I feel like a supernova. I’m just a lingering star that is burning too bright for my skin and I couldn’t figure out why I was burning up inside. It took some very special cards and a very special friend to make me realize that what I need is more creativity.

The sky was dark, which meant a storm was coming while I worked a shift at the zoo, trail hosting. All the animals were in a mood, stirring and restless, so they could feel it coming. I talked with a keeper and she said that most animals that graze want more food during this time. It’s instincts that make them want to binge so that they can wait out the rain. I went from exhibit to exhibit watching the animals eat. It wasn’t a bad day by Arizona standards. It wasn’t too cold and thank the stars it wasn’t too hot. Arizona in the summer gets to me. If I’m swimming, I’m fine, but some of the trails don’t have a lot of shade and we have issues with heat stroke.

Writer Update

Untitled Novel: My co-writer and I are starting to build more on the story she pitched me. I’ve put it to the side to finish my novella revision, so now I’m in full swing on this new horror project. We have the same idea on ghost stories, so it’s interesting and challenging with the characters we’re building.

School: One assignment at a time, I’m learning a great deal on the use of dialogue. I’ve also realized that I don’t use as much dialogue in my stories as others. I’m not sure if I just have the 1940’s P.I. narrator in my head when I’m writing or what.

Friday, March 06, 2015

College Classes, Homework Assignments and Writing

Three weeks into the college writing class, and I’m painfully aware of what I’ve accepted as normal about myself, like the large amount of time I spend inside my head, analyzing everything. I was told that I have a very technical outlook on the writing process. If that’s true, does it hurt my writing style? Despite my technical side, which I have towards everything, it doesn’t change my organic writing flow.

I’m already on my third assignment for the class and have yet to make direct contact with my professor. I need him to write me a referral for the Master of Fine Arts Writing Program, but I’m terrible about talking with people. It’s awkward. I can feel it, they can feel it. I’ve already spent the time looking through fall classes and have picked at least 1 class I’d like to take. I still need one more class in order to get my 3 referrals. I also need to start working on everything I have to submit. I’m in such a larva state of existence where I’m sluggishly debating what exactly I want. 

I’ve finished my novella and literally wrote a place holder that says “fight” in which, I will now have to go back and fill in the details. I’m hoping that a two month break will shed some light on what I need for the scene. I usually have an awakening that answers all my plot issues. Until then, I’m working on the horror novel with my co-writer.

Writing Update:

Novella: 1st revision finished. Giving it a few months to sit in my head and see where it goes when I come back to edit. I’m building the map since I want to this to be a long series. Also, I found some cover art that I liked and made a list, giving it to Emory for his opinion. I agree with his thoughts on the pictures I sent.