Thursday, April 21, 2011

Casting Call For Wicked Dogs!

I write novels: humorous chick-lit, supernatural thrillers, and young adult urban fantasy. Whenever possible, I include colorful animal characters, and in conjunction with my projects I support animal rescue.

GLORY, Book One of my Legend of Glory urban fantasy series, features an intrepid demon-fighting Australian Shepherd named Hallelujah (Hallie to her friends). Hallie’s job is to protect the teenage heroine, Glory. Hallie doesn't like vampires, is partial to angels, and enjoys talking with witches. She'll tolerate being dressed up in silly costumes in the fight against evil, but after multiple baths to remove blood and dangerous scents, she elevates deep, sorrowful sighs to an art form. Her loathing of vampires puts a serious cramp in Glory’s love life, but she will brave a room full of vampires for a raspberry-filled, super-thick, triple-glazed doughnut.

She is a dog with clear priorities.

Hallie can dance, and she sings her own special version of "The Hallelujah Chorus," but her greatest talent of all is extraordinary courage. She is the Wonder Woman of the canine crowd!

I am now writing the second book in the series, which has a working title of TIMELESS, and I am looking for the perfect canine foil for Hallelujah. I need an evil dog.

So, I am putting out a casting call to all dog owners to send me information about their own demonic dogs. Tell me in what way they are wicked and send me photos to show me how evil they look. (Seriously, I need inspiration here.) If I use the likeness of your dog in TIMELESS, he or she will be immortalized forever in literature. Think about the possibilities!

My casting call is being held on my Facebook page. So friend me and post away!

Of course, you and I will know that your dog isn’t really evil. Between us, we will agree that he or she is merely mischievous. However, because I’m a writer, I can exaggerate. It’s what I get paid for.

Besides, that’s what the voices are telling me to do...

Sunday, April 17, 2011

The Hawthorne Book of Shadows

With his eyes fixed on Paradise,
   the haunted Christian
blames the shadow. Plagued

by his own demons,
   soul bitten and loveless,
he is bound in the sackcloth of pride,

in cobwebs and ashes.
   While there, thrilled to the wild,
dizzying ride of the flesh,

of phallus and womb, the fresh
   dew of this world, the red,
simple wing of original joy,

like the berrying spring of a child's
   renewal, the Witch slips out
of the black diaphanous robe

of our common sleep. Behind
   that half-curtain, lives with the sharp
knowledge of danger (Do not, whatever

else you may do, be discovered!).
   Out of that horn of magic, desire,
flesh at once richer and paler than ivory

is bathed—Look!—in original light!
   ...Or are those only the elegant
ivory bars of the cage

in which both have been trapped:
   Earth-delighted no less than he
with his cross-obsessed pain?

While She-Without-Form,
   resurrected again and again,
cries out from the nailed thirst of this world

to our own resurrection, that single
   commandment: Love!—O heart's simple name!
O first and final salvation!