Dragon Shifting

The hardest part of this week’s blog post is choosing which characters to write about. I never realized that so many of my characters had special abilities until this topic came up and I had to think about it. I tend to write in the fantasy area, so it seems kind of normal for my characters, both men and women (and demons and shifters and vampires, etc.), to be a little abnormal.

My favorite characters with special abilities have to be my dragon shifters. How cool would it be to be able to simply choose to be a dragon one minute and then human the next? My Dragon's Song series is based on a secret about the human/dragon relationship that the dragons know but humans forgot. But wait until those humans remember…oh yeah! Here’s an excerpt from The Dragon's Queen so you can see what I mean.

Emerson was gone.

He considered she’d abandoned him and run to the blue officials, but the idea of it constricted his chest and brought an ache he didn’t care to suffer. He used his legs to push himself up the wall and stumbled to the corner of the passageway. He heard noises, like those in a great battle. One of the loudest sounded familiar. With great care, he leaned around the corner and peeked at the front of the Chinese food-serving place. He didn’t believe the sight greeting him.

A dragon, its glorious scales sporting a flowered print extending from the top of its snout to the tip of its tail, stood tall and majestic as it beat the whey out of the blue officials rushing it with a matching glossy bag. The dragon bellowed, whapping any human within striking distance, but in a very feminine, elegant way. One man she knocked to the ground and continued to pound him until he stopped moving, then she turned on the others.

The Dragon Kind have never forgotten the secret, and they are sworn to protect it. Some of them don't appreciate humans who do not respect the Dragon Kind or their code of honor. In this except from Nioral's Quest, Nioral proves just that.

Nioral woke with a jolt and a snort. The noise in his dreams now interrupted his waking as well. Someone yelling, human words as much as he could make out, shook the leaves above him. One drifted down, floating past his snout, and he watched it mix with the underbrush on the forest floor, which, to his surprise, moved. Nioral blinked, unsure if his drowsiness caused an illusion or if the floor of the forest had just come alive. Fascinating.

“Get it! Those eyes alone will make us rich!”

“The silver skin will make us kings!”

Yes, Nioral thought, definitely humans. From the spiritual etchings in the vocal emanations and their harsh words, he determined they were greedy young ones at that. Nioral harrumphed. He wondered if they realized waking a sleeping dragon couldn’t possibly be in their best interests. He doubted it. They would soon figure it out, though, when they crashed through the trees into the clearing in just about ten seconds. Nioral rose up and shook himself out to his full dragon glory. He didn’t particularly like terrorizing humans, but in this case, it needed to be done. He counted silently in his head: 7, 6, 5…

“Please help me,” came a small whimper, seemingly from nowhere.

Nioral started. His countdown interrupted, he searched the area for source of the feeble plea. The leaf litter at his feet moved slightly, just where he thought he’d seen movement moments before. As he watched, the shiny silver head of an adder appeared, the little bit of sunlight streaming through the forest glimmering off its scaly skin with blinding intensity. Even more unusual were its eyes, the consistency and shape of the finest sapphire gemstones.

Nioral peered into the deep blue stones, and a strange sensation immediately raged through his groin. Stunned, he stumbled back, recoiling at the unfamiliar—dare he call it?—urge.

The snake gasped now. “I-I won’t hurt you Sir Dragon. I just need…need,” it choked on the last couple of words, “…your help.”

Nioral snorted and shook his head. Afraid of an adder? A dragon? Of course not. Adder venom had no effect on dragons, although, if properly mixed, it made fine elixir for tail scrunge. All adders knew this; how could this one not?

He sensed something else: fear. Adders rarely feared anything, but in this one the emotion was strong. Too strong. Nioral’s chest ached in response to it.

“To the gods! Look, Barek, it’s a dragon. We got us a fine catch today,” the voice of one of the greedy lads pulled Nioral’s attention from the odd creature. A pair of idiots stood in front of him.

Obviously lower than peasant folk, the grungy boys appeared to be on the verge of manhood, though Nioral doubted they’d make it much past their teen years if they were so stupid they thought they could take a dragon down. He laughed, shooting a stream of orange flame in their direction.

Both boys stopped abruptly, shaking. However, Nioral’s warning didn’t deter them long. The taller of the two carried a large stick, and now he waved it in Nioral’s face. Nioral tried not to laugh, for as much as a dragon could laugh.

“Be off with you, dragon. We’ll settle for the snake,” he said, the tremor in his voice belying his true level of courage.

Nioral leaned down, tilting his head as he did so. For some reason, this always seemed to mesmerize humans, although he didn’t know why. Entranced, the boys watched him take the stick in his mouth and crack it in two, pulverizing the bits until the dust dripped out of his jaws.

He lifted his front leg and flicked the smaller boy in the forehead with his talon. The action sent him flying a good twenty feet back, the shock of being assaulted by a dragon evident in his wide-eyed expression. The lad’s braver comrade threw himself at Nioral, flailing at him with both arms and legs. Nioral turned just slightly and sent this one sprawling with his tail. Having had enough nonsense, he lifted his snout and shot a burst of fire into the air, sending both lads scrambling in the direction from whence they came.

Nioral coughed and used a talon to pick a piece of wood from his teeth.

Humans, indeed.

See what I mean? To have the ability to switch between a human and dragon form, and to be able to kick ass in either one? Truly a special ability I’d like to have! I guess that's why I enjoy writing about them so much. :)

If you’d like to live vicariously through my dragon shifters from the comfort and safety of your own reading nook, check out the Dragon’s Song series. It starts with Dream of the Dragon’s Song and continues with Nioral's Quest and The Dragon's Queen.

Happy Reading!

Spiders, Iguanas, and Lorikeets...Oh My!

Guess who’s got a spider in her spare bathroom?

Anyone who knows me at all knows that I’m an animal lover, a possessor of the mutant gene that makes a person go ga-ga over not just cute puppies and kittens, or even horses, birds, and bunnies, but any creature that flies, crawls, wiggles or squiggles about on earth. That even includes spiders, snakes, alligators, snails, and, as my hubby so cleverly puts it, especially the birds and the bees (ba da dum). I used to think I was some kind of freak and tried to break my habit of being so soft-headed and soft-hearted, but then, after several bouts of recidivism, in an effort to get on with my life, I decided to do what many of my contemporaries around here have done when they can’t find any really good excuse for any number of screw-ups they’ve committed or flaws they’ve yet to overcome—I blamed my mother.

She IS responsible, actually, on both the nature AND nurture level. Biologically, she contributed her tainted DNA to my fertilization and production. On the nurture side, she did nothing to dissuade my critterological pursuits. As a child, it was not unusual for her to ask my grandmother if she could bring a friend to dinner. That friend usually turned out to be a bug she’d let loose on the table or a snake she’d keep tucked safely inside her blouse sleeve so as to not raise the alarm and my grandparents ire. You can see how I never stood a chance, can’t you?

So, guess who’s got a spider in her spare bathroom?

I do. His name is Leonidas, and he’s a tiny little guy, much tinier than his predecessor, Pericles. He made a little web in an out of the way spot near the faucet, and every morning I go in and say, “Hiya, Leonidas, wassup?” To no one’s surprise, he doesn’t answer me. I’m not sure what he lives on, as I never see anything in his web, but he seems to be doing well. And as long as he’s not trying to snag a cat or attack me with laser beam eyes, he can stay.

This is how I am, so imagine my surprise when my husband left it up to me to pick out which excursion we would take on our cruise this last June. He should know better! But I think he hates making decisions more than he fears whatever hokey scheme I will come up with to get my hands on some critters, so he cleverly found a way to delegate the decision to me.

“Honey, you make the decision,” he said.

So I did. That’s how we ended up in the bottom of a submarine-type thingie staring out the windows and taking in scads of fishies before wandering a marine park on the island of St. Thomas. Our guide introduced us to our captain and his first mate, Davy, a very adorable English Bulldog. Oddly enough, the captain described how he was surprised Davy could swim like a champ, since his breed wasn’t known for their aquatic skills. Why someone who captains a boat would choose a dog whose breed isn’t known for its swimming capabilities for a pet was beyond me, but Davy seemed to bask in the attention of his guests, going so far as to try to chew my hand off with his puppy teeth before allowing me below. Since he didn’t try to eat anyone else, I felt sort of special, so we soldiered on into the bowels of the boat.


I enjoyed seeing the bottom of the ocean and some of its inhabitants, including yellow tail tuna and a fish called the Sergeant Major (because of the stripes). We also saw barracuda, which may be why in one picture we took (not posted here) it appears the captain, who’d gone out with fish food to attract some marine life for our viewing pleasure, is trying desperately to get back in the boat. I imagine Davy was up on deck, throwing chum overboard and chuckling. I hear English Bulldogs are quite clever when the mood, or opportunity, strikes.


Anyway, we ambled off the boat with some memorable pictures, some of which you see here, and wandered over to the marine park. I have mixed feelings about these places, as I do zoos, but since I didn’t realize it was part of the excursion at first, I was committed to seeing it through. I was happy to note that the iguanas roaming freely throughout appeared to be very, very content and happy…and confident. These fellows would stroll right up to us, stop, and pose. No begging for food, just striking poses. And they wouldn’t leave until I took several photos of all of them, turning this way and that, lifting their chins in the air and doing jazz tails. Then they just all sauntered away as if nothing happened, as if being fabulous was an everyday occurrence for them. I have to admit, they were quite striking, and they did inspire some ideas for my next shape-shifter story.


We also enjoyed the lorikeets, which is a bird in the parrot family. They were colorful and friendly, although we did witness what the guide described as a marital dispute between two of the birds involving a third bird. They all got in this box with little plastic balls and starting batting them around while jumping on each other and "grooming." Personally, I think we were unwitting voyeurs to an ornithological ménage scene, but who am I to question park personnel? Besides, I got even more fodder for new stories.

There was so much more to see—stealthy stingrays, sneaky starfish, drooling nurse sharks—but I have to admit that there’s no critters like my familiars, who watch over me as I write and demand attention so that I don’t get too absorbed in my other worlds. They keep me balanced and lavish me with the opportunity to worship them, for which I am eternally grateful, so I was happy to return home to my kitties and, of course, Leonidas.

Have you hugged a spider today? lol

How Do We Get Inspired When....

How do we get inspired to write when everything in our lives can be turned upside down? Turn it into a story? :)

Or, find a visual stimulant. :) This works. Hmm, just finished one of those shower scenes in Allure of the Wolf...

I've got my house up for sale, trying to keep the acre yard trimmed and the house clean, got tile guys here and painters that I decided I needed, and after the painters destroyed my privet, I'm ready for a much needed break.

So shower hunk helps.

I missed posting last Saturday. Missed posting on another blog Wednesday. Trying not to miss too many things I'm supposed to be doing, but what with the upheaval in my life, it's hard not to!

Ever do that? Two days later think, ohmigosh! I was supposed to be at that doctor's appointment Monday?

Have edits due on a YA by end of month...9 days from now, over 1/2 through with writing Allure and teaching a great group of happy hookers....yet, trying to keep up with promotions. I'll be blogging about How Much Realism in Fiction is Too Much on another site Wednesday...and all I've got to say is I'm sure staying out of trouble. Kind of.

Yep. That's the way life is right now. Perfect for a story. Conflict, conflict, and more conflict. Great to read about--that's what makes a story fun. But not real life!!!

*Sigh* One more visual stimulant for when I go back to editing the shower scene
and then it's back to work for me! Have a super Saturday, oh, and a question to ponder:

What do you do when life stresses you to the max? How do you cope? What gets you back into shower, I mean, saddle to keep on going?

Terry Spear
Heart of the Wolf
http://www.terryspear.com/
The Vampire...In My Dreams
http://www.terrywildeteenbooks.com/

Sexy Settings

There's something about water and bare-chested men that is just darned sexy. Bare-backed can work too. I never was much interested in fishing, but this guy would definitely change my mind! Don't you love his...uhm, waders?

I find adding water to a scene can really make it sexy! In Heart of the Wolf--it's the rain. In Don't Cry Wolf, it's the shower. In Betrayal of the Wolf, it's the beach. And in Allure of the Wolf, haven't come to that part yet. :) It's awfully cold in the Canadian Arctic! :)

What do you think? Fishing look any better from this viewpoint?

Terry Spear

http://www.terryspear.com/

Heart of the Wolf, Don't Cry Wolf