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Vampire Hunting

Vampire Hunter

I saw this truck today on my way to work. I couldn’t get a good look at the driver but I think it was Vampire Hunter D.

Vampire Hunter

 
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Posted by on November 13, 2014 in From the Desk of the Author

 

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Some old Sketches for a Collaboration that never came to fruition

Blitz

 

Duo

 
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Posted by on November 11, 2014 in Dessilus Collaboration

 

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Escape Artist

 

 Escape Artist

Manifestations of manipulation

A simple lock and key

Entangled in contemplation

Zealous to be free

Trapped, locked up tight in satanic devices

Taking God-given desires, shifting them to vices

But an escape artist am I

Slippery, silent and slick

No knot I can’t untie

No lock I cannot pick

Pinned, bound up fast in your misinterpretation

Trying to find my freedom from the exclusive alienation

Contortions of body, heart and mind

Flexing, bending my way loose

The exit not so hard to find

When you already know the ruse

 
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Posted by on October 10, 2014 in From the Desk of the Author

 

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Image

Slanter Sketch

img099

 
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Posted by on June 21, 2014 in Penn's Diary

 

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Fixing Up

I realize that I need to update some of the links on the site. I also realize that I have a couple of unfinished stories lingering around out there. Ties That Bind is nearing completion and I have been putting off ending it due to the fact that I enjoyed the characters so very much. Demon Wrought is just getting started, and I am waiting until the summer to really try to tackle this more adult project. Zoe and the Outcasted will not take very much time at all, but I simply have not had time to run with it.

All in all, the site needs some love from me. I have sketches to add, and stories to link. I really want the site to be easy to access, with information no more than two clicks away. I will get there. Stay with me.

 
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Posted by on April 8, 2014 in From the Desk of the Author

 

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Ahnzil the Punishment

Ahnzil

I started my sketch of Ahnzil, using pencil as usual; however, my son set his red velvet cupcake down on my villain’s face. I decided to go ahead and ink the face and pretend that the stain was a blood splatter from a recent victim.

I still on plan on finishing a pencil sketch showing the enormity and overwhelming nature of Ahnzil the Punishment.

 
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Posted by on January 27, 2014 in Dessilus Collaboration

 

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Another Snippet from the Council of Therian

Zip's Sketch

They had walked a considerable distance before Zipporah was forced from her thoughts by a shout. She regained her composure in time to level her arm at a figure that was charging at Penn.

“Hey,” a high pitched melodic voice called to the pair. One of the bunny dancers stopped in front of Penn and smiled. Zipporah was ready to defend the gnome if she made any moves to attack. The bunny had other moves in mind, however. “So, where are you from?” she asked the gnome but ignored the shoki.

Penn was about to answer when Zipporah cut him off, “We are from a small city just east of Dundersnuff called Mensch. I am certain you wouldn’t know anything about it.” The shoki gave the wererabbit a look that clearly let her know it was time to hop along.

The girl was either too stupid to pick up on the unsubtle hint or she simply didn’t care; either way she continued unhindered. “Anyway, there are going to be fireworks later out over the water. It would be nice to have someone to watch them with, if you wanted to join us. My friends and I,” she motioned to the other dancers who were standing in a cluster against the wall, “are all meeting up at the Crawl just before dark.” She shifted out from her hybrid form to reveal a very attractive halfling. “My name is Connie.”

Penn blushed in spite of himself. “Yeah, that would be nice,” the gnome-hare stammered.

“I am looking forward to it,” Connie smiled. Then she turned, gave Zipporah a nasty look, and walked back to where her bunny friends waited against the wall. The shoki did not need to read her thoughts to know what she was thinking.

“Come on,” Zipporah practically dragged Penn away. “We have to get back.” She was already upset about having to walk away from the demon, and she inadvertently took it out on the gnome. “Are you stupid?” she asked harshly as they walked.

The look on Penn’s face broke Zipporah’s heart, and she instantly regretted the rough words. She was about to apologize when Penn said, “I saw her the other night when I was with Attilla. I think I like her, and it seems she likes me.”

Zipporah decided not to point out that the bunny could not have known that the gnome she flirted with in the tavern was the same gnome that was now disguised as a hybrid hare. She couldn’t bring herself to hurt Penn any more than she already had. She was not interested in completely shattering his innocence. Every large city, and even many smaller ones, had some version of the Shadowmire bunnies. They prey on men, stealing and gathering information. Penn, like so many others, reveled in the attention the girls lavished on him. Zipporah chuckled to herself, for she used the same tactics to accomplish her goals.

“You deserve so much better,” Zipporah said honestly.

“Yeah right,” Penn said. “You sound like my mom.”

“I am serious,” she continued. “You are a great guy, Penn. Any girl would be lucky to have you.”

“Then why doesn’t any girl want me?”  Penn said sadly. Zipporah was not used to dealing with the vulnerability that the gnome so openly displayed. She was more accustomed to the Slanters of the world, and she realized how unprepared she was to answer his simple question.

Luckily Penn wasn’t one to stay down for very long. He was hopping up and down with excitement in no time. He squealed, “Hey, it’s Avie,” as they passed several cart vendors. “Oh my gosh, Avie comes to the fair in Oliveloft.” Penn grabbed three copper coins from his pouch and made his made to Avie’s cart.

Zipporah read the sign which read, “Eat Avie’s Candy! It Is Good!” She was unimpressed with the slogan, but Penn’s excitement seemed to ease the pain of her insult; so she was happy.

“Whatcha need, lil friend?” Avie asked. He was an extremely fat man with a moustache that matched his width. Crumbs were sprinkled all throughout his excessive facial hair.

“Cinnamon pecans, please.” Penn turned to Zipporah, and handed her the small bag. “You gotta try these.”

The shoki opened up the bag, and was entranced by the smell that wafted out. She quickly ate one of the pecans, and it tasted as good as it smelled. “This is great.” Zipporah grabbed several more, and then passed the bag back to Penn. The gnome bit each pecan in half, hoping to make them last longer.

Avie handed each of the customers a piece of candy, “Try that, and let me know what you think.” They both took a bite, and the candy melted in their mouths. “It is something new. I am calling it a praline.”

“So good.”

“It truly is fantastic,” Zipporah admitted. She pulled three silver pieces from a concealed pouch and handed it to the large human. “I would like two more of these pralines and two bags of your pecans.”

Avie rubbed his fat hands together and quickly bagged up the half-elf’s candy. “Thank you,” he stated sincerely. “Take this, too!” He handed Penn a stick with hard candy stuck to the top. “It is called stone candy, so be careful and don’t chip your teeth.”

“Thanks,” Penn said with a smile. The candy was nice, and calmed both the gnome and the shoki down a little. Penn was excited that Zipporah had bought some for Slanter and Syris. It had been a good day, and the gnome almost seemed to forget about being hunted by the Shadowmire guards. Almost.

 
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Posted by on January 25, 2014 in Snippets from The Council of Therian

 

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Another Snippet from the Council of Therian

orc

One day while playing in the woods near Brentwood, Burge spotted two orcs with rusty swords drawn. He quickly got the other’s attention and showed them what he had seen. Six sets of gnome eyes were watching the orcs as they lumbered about. Suddenly the orcs stopped and squatted low, as if to hide from someone. Penn couldn’t believe what was happening. Popo, a girl that always wanted to hang with the boys must have followed them out into the woods. She was heading right toward the crouching orcs without a care in the world. Penn and the others were paralyzed with fear, but Attilla came out of hiding with a scream and ran straight at the orcs. Each footfall seemed to drive another quill out of his back, as his therian rage flooded over the gnome. By the time he got to the startled orcs, he was half gnome and half porcupine. It was the farthest any of his friends had ever seen him go into his hybrid form.

The orcs were not ready to do battle with a therian, even if they didn’t know it. Attilla jumped in between them forcing them apart. A few quills stuck one of the orcs, but that only seemed to make the brute angry. Popo, now seeing the danger, turned and started back for the safety of Brentwood. Attilla broke off a quill from his shoulder and used it as a dirk, stabbing the orcs repeatedly. The gnome had never been in a fight where he could truly die, not many of the gnomes in the area had. Orcs, unlike the gnomes, were brought up to battle. By the time an orc had reached young adulthood, he had most likely killed several of his peers just to survive. Attilla had courage, but the orcs had skill. The deciding factor, however, was the tainted blood that ran through the gnome’s veins.

The first orc tried to grab the little creature, but that only got him an arm full of spines. He threw the therian to the ground and cut him across the chest with his rusty sword. The battle should have been over, but it wasn’t. The wound closed itself almost instantly, but the orc paid no attention. He was too busy pulling the thick quills out of his forearm. So Attilla jabbed his makeshift dagger into the leg of the other orc, but that orc scored a hit on the gnome-porcupine as well. It was a kick into Attilla’s ribs, which sent him flying. The orc believed the fight finished, for he had felt the bones give way under the force of his boot. It was a gross miscalculation, and it cost him his life. Attilla’s ribs quickly healed themselves with a sick grinding sensation, but after the initial pain he was fine. The overconfident orc stood over the therian, stuck out his leg, and went to pull the quill out. Attilla jumped on his leg, grabbed his shirt, then tucked his chin and jumped right into the orcs face. His quills buried deep into the unsuspecting orc’s neck and face. The orc fell back, instantly dead, and took the gnome with him. Attilla used the momentum to roll off, and went right after the first orc. The orc wisely ran the other way. Attilla followed.

It all happened so fast that the others still hadn’t even moved. However when Penn saw his friend chasing an orc into the woods, he bolted after them. The others followed as well, but they were not nearly as fast through the woods as Penn.  When Penn got to his friend, Attilla was on top of the orc’s chest violently chopping him with his own sword. From what Penn could tell Attilla had been at it for a while. There wasn’t much left to identify it as an orc anymore. Tears were pouring down the therian’s face, and it took Penn a moment to determine if his friend was injured or not. He realized that Attilla was fine, physically at least. Penn went to his friend and gently, for he didn’t want to be victimized by the quills, placed his hand on Attilla’s shoulder.

The therian stopped his insane hacking, and collapsed into his friend. His rage had played out and he was ashamed. Instantly, for he was a true therian, Attilla was back in gnome form. He cried with heavy sobs into Penn’s chest. Penn didn’t say a word. Even at that age, he understood that sometimes just being there was enough. After a few moments, Attilla wiped the blood, tears, and snot from his face. He stared at his friend and thanked him without saying a word. By this time the others were finally arriving.

Rumors spread like wildfire through the small town. After the incident people started getting scared of the therian gnome. Parents instructed their kids not to hang around with him. Attilla was the hero that day, but people couldn’t accept that. Even the boys that were there, except for Penn, altered the story so that it painted them in a better light. Sometimes lies are easier to believe than the truth, especially when the truth goes against the natural order.

 
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Posted by on January 21, 2014 in Snippets from The Council of Therian

 

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Snippet from The Council of Therian

attilla

               The only real haven for Attilla was at the Darvel home. He stayed over there a lot of the time, and was always treated kindly. Penn would read through books on the nights Attilla had to go home, searching for some kind of way to make his friend better. Things never got better for Attilla in Brentwood. In fact, things got remarkably worse as he got older.

One day while playing in the woods near Brentwood, Burge spotted two orcs with rusty swords drawn. He quickly got the other’s attention and showed them what he had seen. Six sets of gnome eyes were watching the orcs as they lumbered about. Suddenly the orcs stopped and squatted low, as if to hide from someone. Penn couldn’t believe what was happening. Popo, a girl that always wanted to hang with the boys must have followed them out into the woods. She was heading right toward the crouching orcs without a care in the world. Penn and the others were paralyzed with fear, but Attilla came out of hiding with a scream and ran straight at the orcs. Each footfall seemed to drive another quill out of his back, as his therian rage flooded over the gnome. By the time he got to the startled orcs, he was half gnome and half porcupine. It was the farthest any of his friends had ever seen him go into his hybrid form.

The orcs were not ready to do battle with a therian, even if they didn’t know it. Attilla jumped in between them forcing them apart. A few quills stuck one of the orcs, but that only seemed to make the brute angry. Popo, now seeing the danger, turned and started back for the safety of Brentwood. Attilla broke off a quill from his shoulder and used it as a dirk, stabbing the orcs repeatedly. The gnome had never been in a fight where he could truly die, not many of the gnomes in the area had. Orcs, unlike the gnomes, were brought up to battle. By the time an orc had reached young adulthood, he had most likely killed several of his peers just to survive. Attilla had courage, but the orcs had skill. The deciding factor, however, was the tainted blood that ran through the gnome’s veins.

The first orc tried to grab the little creature, but that only got him an arm full of spines. He threw the therian to the ground and cut him across the chest with his rusty sword. The battle should have been over, but it wasn’t. The wound closed itself almost instantly, but the orc paid no attention. He was too busy pulling the thick quills out of his forearm. So Attilla jabbed his makeshift dagger into the leg of the other orc, but that orc scored a hit on the gnome-porcupine as well. It was a kick into Attilla’s ribs, which sent him flying. The orc believed the fight finished, for he had felt the bones give way under the force of his boot. It was a gross miscalculation, and it cost him his life. Attilla’s ribs quickly healed themselves with a sick grinding sensation, but after the initial pain he was fine. The overconfident orc stood over the therian, stuck out his leg, and went to pull the quill out. Attilla jumped on his leg, grabbed his shirt, then tucked his chin and jumped right into the orcs face. His quills buried deep into the unsuspecting orc’s neck and face. The orc fell back, instantly dead, and took the gnome with him. Attilla used the momentum to roll off, and went right after the first orc. The orc wisely ran the other way. Attilla followed.

It all happened so fast that the others still hadn’t even moved. However when Penn saw his friend chasing an orc into the woods, he bolted after them. The others followed as well, but they were not nearly as fast through the woods as Penn.  When Penn got to his friend, Attilla was on top of the orc’s chest violently chopping him with his own sword. From what Penn could tell Attilla had been at it for a while. There wasn’t much left to identify it as an orc anymore. Tears were pouring down the therian’s face, and it took Penn a moment to determine if his friend was injured or not. He realized that Attilla was fine, physically at least. Penn went to his friend and gently, for he didn’t want to be victimized by the quills, placed his hand on Attilla’s shoulder.

The therian stopped his insane hacking, and collapsed into his friend. His rage had played out and he was ashamed. Instantly, for he was a true therian, Attilla was back in gnome form. He cried with heavy sobs into Penn’s chest. Penn didn’t say a word. Even at that age, he understood that sometimes just being there was enough. After a few moments, Attilla wiped the blood, tears, and snot from his face. He stared at his friend and thanked him without saying a word. By this time the others were finally arriving.

Rumors spread like wildfire through the small town. After the incident people started getting scared of the therian gnome. Parents instructed their kids not to hang around with him. Attilla was the hero that day, but people couldn’t accept that. Even the boys that were there, except for Penn, altered the story so that it painted them in a better light. Sometimes lies are easier to believe than the truth, especially when the truth goes against the natural order.

 
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Posted by on November 17, 2013 in Snippets from The Council of Therian

 

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Demon Wrought (Chapter 2)

Berg

Chapter One

Demon Wrought

Chapter Two

The Cold

It had been a long day for Berg, and the night had been even more grueling. He usually enjoyed the attention, but tonight had been too much. Everyone was asking too many questions, and it was making his head hurt. He was finally sitting by himself, trying to order his thoughts.

“Are you alright, baby?” a voluptuous woman wrapped her arms around Berg’s neck. Her breasts pushed against the back of his head, sending waves of heat through his otherwise cold body. Berg thought for a moment about turning her away, but decided against it. He could use the distraction. His body language told her that he was interested. “Want to head over to my place and I can make you feel better?”

Berg did not want to waste his night with Beth. “How about we just go outside?”

Beth didn’t really care to spend the full night with Berg, but she had a fire of her own that the frost demon spawn always seemed to know exactly how to extinguish.

They made their way outside and the woman dropped her dress down, exposing her ample breasts. The frigid night air made her nipples harden. Beth gave Berg the look, promising pleasure and release. Berg approached and kissed her neck. As his skin touched hers, goose bumps sprang up across her flesh. His hands went to her ass, and she whimpered with practiced perfection.

Berg almost failed to hear the muffled cries over Beth’s moaning. Almost. He pushed her away.

“What…” Beth started, but Berg put his finger over her mouth. Then, she heard it as well. As Berg took off toward the sounds, she quickly pulled her dress back over her shoulders.

*****

Larkin and Dani finally entered the Crab Trap to join the celebration. The man wore simple clothes, but Dani felt the need to dress up. She did not want the people of Dorsi to start mumbling that Larkin deserved better. Larkin gave her a smile, his pearly white teeth shining through his beard. She knew that he would never lay with another women; his honor was too strong. However, she wanted to make sure that he never wanted to.

Everyone congratulated him on the great victory. Larkin smiled, and shook hands. Dani knew that he hated the attention, and Larkin squeezed her hand as the words poured over him. Usually Berg would absorb the praise, but the half-demon was nowhere to be found.

Larkin saw Ricci approaching and tried to find a way to avoid the interaction. There were simply too many people around. Larkin felt the man’s hand on his shoulder. He spun and feigned surprise.

“Larkin, I need to have a word with you,” Ricci said without any need for small talk. Then he walked back to the same table where Berg had denied him earlier. Larkin did not immediately follow Ricci. He made his way to each of the soldiers who had been with him that day; giving his thanks to them. By the time Larkin got back to Ricci’s table, the head of the city was fuming.

“Sorry,” Larkin stated, “I had to talk to my men.” Ricci glared. “You remember my wife, Dani?” The woman smiled at Ricci, despite the fact that she hated the man.

Ricci did not even acknowledge Larkin’s wife. “I need to know what happened out there today.”

“No.”

“No?”

Larkin put his nose against Ricci’s nose. “I said it. You sit there, all fat and happy, but I remember when we were boys. You were Ricky then, but still a coward. You disrespect my wife, and then ask for information? You are a fool, among your many flaws.”

Ricci pulled away. “You think I can’t get the information from one of your men?”

“I know you can’t.” Larkin answered without hesitation. “If I find out that you have even tried, then I will beat your ass down.”

“A threat?” Ricci tried to sound brave, but his voice cracked and betrayed his bravado. He tried to recover, “I have the law on my side, Larkin.”

“My authority comes from a higher power,” Larkin smiled. “If you challenge me, you will lose.”

*****

Berg quickly located the sounds. It seemed a man was trying to take advantage of a lady. The man was having a rough time of it, however. It was about to get much worse for the man. Berg grabbed the man by his tunic and pulled him off of the woman. The man threw a wild elbow into the frost demon’s chin. The air grew immediately colder. However, Berg did not have to strike the man; for the woman came up and clawed her attacker’s face. Then she grabbed hold of his ear and tried to rip it off.

Beth grabbed the woman, and pulled her away from the man. She started to try to calm her down, which was no easy task. Berg was glad that Beth was with him. As Berg looked at the two women, he realized that it was just a child in Beth’s arms.

“She wanted it,” the man screamed as he tried to shrug Berg off.

“She just tried to rip your ear off,” Berg responded. “I have enjoyed some crazy nights, but it never escalated into missing ears.”

Beth, too, realized that she held a girl not a woman. “This is a child,” she stated with disgust. There was no hiding the repulsion in her voice.

“Out this late? With a dress like that?” the man argued. “How could I know?”

“If you were deceived, which I doubt, it was because you wanted to be fooled.” Berg slapped the man in the face. “Her dress does not fit, loose in all the places a woman would fill. No make-up and no jewelry. My guess is that her mother would notice if the make-up had been used; and she couldn’t risk losing any jewelry. However, the dress; her mother probably outgrew the dress with hopes but no realities of wearing it again someday. A child playing dress up; nothing more.”

“How do you know all that?” the man asked.

“Because I did not want to be fooled.”

“Just kill me,” the man begged. “If my wife finds out…”

Berg slapped the man again. “I hope she kills you. No, I hope she ruins you. I want her to absolutely destroy you; the way you tried to ruin and destroy this girl’s life.” Berg motioned for Beth to take her home. Beth slapped the man as they walked past, and his mouth filled with blood. “Pull your pants up, and let’s go have a talk with Larkin.”

“No, not Larkin!” the man shouted as he pulled his pants up around his waist. Berg slapped him again.

 
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Posted by on May 26, 2013 in Penn's Diary

 

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