Sleepy Hollow Inn, Part V

The Sleepy Hollow Inn, Part V
By M. Davenport

When I found out about Veronica's death it was too late for me to inspect the body and see what type of bite it had been, or sense any lingering presence in the room. What was even more disturbing to me was the fact I had not sensed the presence of death's arrival at any point in the night because, after Veronica retired for the night, I had passed by Edward James getting fully inibriated at the bar with Mickey over-seeing. I bade him good night and went to my own quarters for the remainder of the dark where I caught up on some over due paperwork, checked emails, and even wrote a letter for the post the next day. It was quite an oridnary evening for me, yet I did not sense when Veronica passed through the veil, and I should have. Even more disturbing was the worried look Mickey gave me in my chambers upon rising the next evening he had come to rouse me and had been unable to do so. Unlike in the movies, when the coffin lid is raised, we vampires are aware and if we do not move (especially when a wooden steak is heading towards our heart) it is by our own choice. Before Mickey told me the sad news I felt something was wrong in the house, I just could not touch upon what it was, and to make matters worse, Mickey had to tell the police I would be home come seven o'clock.

That was all I needed: the police asking me questions.

Usually I can avoid being querried about where I work or what I do beyond owning the inn and entertaining my guests. Still, there are moments when my absence must be explained during the day. This time I used the excuse I was out looking for some period antiques for the inn. Luckily I had a contact in Louisville who would back up my story. (Mickey had already emailed Frovey of the need for a cover.)

The detective who arrived prompty at 8:45 in the evening (he was supposed to have been there by 7:30) was a square fellow by the name of John Needers. According to the local papers he was a hometown boy who had done good. The only problem was he couldn't detect his way out of a paper bag and had probably gotten his appointment by knowing someone who knew someone (or knowing something on someone in power). Richmond, Kentucky was indeed a small town and had small town politics. Lucky for me Needers' mind wasn't complicated and easy to read and - sadly - manipulate. John Needers was bull headed but not strong willed, and privy to all kinds of restricted, official information, such as the wounds on Veronica's neck were just pin pricks and were made in a rosette.

A Gray Day, Outside and In

It is gray outside. Rain drips and sometimes there is a very wet mist that falls from the sky. There just isn't any way to get around the gray. It is over every inch of outside and is creeping its cold fingers into my joints and making me feel as if I was in a car wreck yesterday, which means I am suffering from it today. Things could be better, yes; but things could be horribly worse as far as my physical state goes. This means, long and short of it, I will take today for what it is and let the possibility of things being worse go somewhere else. No use putting negative energy into my body and brain. I will take the day's pains and I will find something good from it, although writing, for today, is out. It is quite difficult to type and I am making tons of mistakes, which means I will just take my meds and let the day progress and tomorrow things will be better, or, at least no worse than today. Today is a gray day, outside and in.

An Interesting Writing Prompt

In wandering through my email today I came across the Writer's Digest writing prompt. It made me stop, re-read it a couple of times, and get this big goofy grin on my face. Although I haven't done it yet, I believe I will. In the meantime, here it is for your inspection. If you write something on this I would love to see it, and post it here.

You’re out with some old friends and they’re all rehashing amusing holiday stories. You tell them that you have one to top them all. In telling your story, there are two rules: Your story must begin with, “I remember that Thanksgiving like it was yesterday” and must end with, “And that’s how (fill in the blank) got stuck inside the turkey.”

Cell, by Stephen King

I just looove zombies. Can you tell there is a lot of sarcasm here? Yes, there is if you were in doubt. Zombies give me the creeps. I don't watch zombie movies, I don't listen to Rob Zombie, and if I have my druthers you can all go watch the zombie movie and I will stay home and knit or crochet or play video games. AND I do not play zombie killing video games either (unless it is in Champions of Norath or something of that nature). Despite detesting zombies (*shudder*) I dearly love Stephen King and, because Stephen King wrote it I will read it. And, last night, I finished reading Cell. Cell is Stephen King's zombie story.

There wasn't any doubt from the very beginning this was a zombie novel. Mr. King is quite a polite soul and lets you know right away it is about zombies because he dedicates his book "For Richard Matheson and George Romero." If you ever see the name "George Romero" in something you can just bet it is about zombies.

The premise in the novel is that someone from somewhere sends a pulse out via satellite and everyone who has a cell phone and is on it at that time, or after, well, they become zombies. Our hero, Clay Riddell, is a comic artist on his way back from the most wondrous of meetings. It was a meeting where he sold his first graphic novel. All is right with his world. Then it isn't. This point was most poignant for me because, well, I could see this being me. My first novel being sold! I am officially an established writer (almost). My career has begun, and then zombies have to screw it all up.

Even though we never know who the someone was who sent out the pulse, it doesn't matter by the end of the first day. People, normal, happy, kind people are ripping ears off of dogs, killing people, and just angry beyond belief and killing. They are killing everyone that is not like them. Soon the world becomes boiled down to Phoners (the zombies) and "normies", those not zombies.

The characters are alive and vivid. I know these people, these "normies." I can spot these people on the street even if don't know them. It is every day real life that gets turned upside down. In many of King's novels, there is always a small group of people who must fight the bad things that go bump in the night, and except for The Stand I can't remember a Stephen King novel where the world was brought to its knees. This isn't The Stand. This is something that frightened me on a deep level, that level I don't want to think about because...I have a cell phone and I use it daily. It frightened me because I don't want to see my neighbors turning on their children and knowing that if the children can't run away they are going to die. It frightened me because, even though it is far fetched, it is possible. Or, at least my brain says it is possible.

Clay Riddell and his friends are just surviving. They are making it through one day at a time. They are alive. They are normal, and they decide to fight back. Fighting back gets them in trouble because you then see the zombies aren't like the zombies of the novels and movies. They are scary, telepathic and, crazy.

I don't want to give away too much about this book, but if there is a Stephen King fan on your Christmas list, you can't go wrong by getting them this book for Christmas.

Integrity

Living in this day and age you sometimes wonder if integrity still exists. Recently I was shown it does, and it does in wonderful ways. A dear Driver for Wheels returned a check to me he had not placed in the till and wanted to make sure I had it in order to void it. I was sick as a dog when he came by, but he was a wonderfully honest. Integrity is not dead. It is quite strong in some people. I needed to know that.

Integrity

Living in this day and age you sometimes wonder if integrity still exists. Recently I was shown it does, and it does in wonderful ways. A dear Driver for Wheels returned a check to me he had not placed in the till and wanted to make sure I had it in order to void it. I was sick as a dog when he came by, but he was a wonderfully honest. Integrity is not dead. It is quite strong in some people. I needed to know that.

This is just a test

Strange things are happening on Blogger. Can't post. Confused. Did this work?

I just want to say....

GOD BLESS ALL THE SOLDIERS. PAST. PRESENT. FUTURE. GOD BLESS YOU!

Fridays and Mondays

Click on the title above to see the full difference between Fridays and Mondays. I think it sums everything up quite nicely. In case that doesn't work just CLICK HERE and see for yourself.

Let's Start Today Off with Music

This kid can play!

Pink's new video - don't know why I really like this one but I do.

Have you ever noticed...

...when you really need to be healthy and clear-headed you end up getting sick? Usually it isn't one of those "little" sicknesses either, like, oh a two hour something or you just kind of don't feel well, but those "O my goodness golly I am sick!" feelings. Yeah, I have that right now. It started yesterday and has continued straight through today. It is my hope, wish, and prayer that tomorrow I will feel more normal and can get back working well on Project I which is progressing nicely so far. At least I took the weekend off and it has done quite well to be off. So now I am hoping with Monday, I can work in peace and get everything moving the way it needs to move, or rather, keep it moving the way it is.

One good thing about today has been that I have slept a lot so hopefully my body will have enough energy to get over this last little step of the illness. Tomorrow my dear, sick hubby is going back to work, and so should I, no matter how much the bed tempts me with its warmth and cozy dogs to snuggle with.

For now, I go back to bed and hope for a healthier day tomorrow.

Heard This the Other Day and Enjoyed It

This really made me smile the other day.

And who says Justin Timberlake can't do something?

I'm Back, Baby!

It has been forever since I have been able to update The News or do anything majorly creative with the internet. Now I am no longer from the internet and The News will be updated regularly again.

First things first: I have not forgotten "The Sleepy Hollow Inn" and it will be the first thing posted on Monday or Tuesday at the very latest.

Other things next: Since everything is still jumbled there isn't going to be an actually day for anything to be set on. So, just just have to keep checking to see when things are going to be up and what they are.

I have missed you all!

Much to Tell Much to Do

How can I possibly explain all of the cool things I have been discovering while do the writing thing of late? I mean, I have discovered that when you are seriously hungry and the words are flowing you can actually eat granola bars and things of this nature without having to actually stop the writing process. I have also discovered that each and every time you get to a very good or difficult part, your youngest dog must always, and I mean ALWAYS go outside just at that particular moment, and, about the time you get back into the necessary frame of mind you need said four-legged adorable critter must come inside so as not to miss the next moment this needs to occur. Yes, pets do help, even in their hinderances sometimes. Go figure.

So, yes, the absence has been quite productive, although I miss having a daily update here and posting of "The Sleepy Hollow Inn" and other nice things. Soon, though, everything will be close to being back to some semblance of normal. I just can't give you an exact date as to when it will be. Yeah, that's life. You know it is going to happen but you sometimes have no clue when it is going to actually take place. Plans. Pft. They really do attract monkeys with wrenches as a dear friend of mine says.

Hmmmmmm

Your Wrath Quotient: 82%

You have the makings of a very evil dictator. If you don't want to go that route, you should consider anger management!

How Much Wrath Do You Have?

A Deep Shock

Have you ever truly considered just how short and unexpected life really is? My niece, Cathy, passed away suddenly on Tuesday, October 10th. She was in her thirties and had finally gotten hold of her life. I don't feel as if it was unfair for her to die. It is just a big shock. She was living her life and loving it; she was discovering new things about herself and others and time was before her. She dropped, collapsed at her parents' home and never regained consciousness. Life is fleeting, Dear Readers. It truly is.

Alexandre Dumas says...

"A person who doubts himself is like a man who would enlist in the ranks of his enemies and bear arms against himself."


– Alexandre Dumas

Safety Deposit

Joseph Adams carefully lay down the package he had been carrying for the past twenty blocks onto the old kitchen table that had come down to him from countless generations through just as many countries and continents. Joseph let out a long, tired sigh. It was small, but it was heavy.

Joseph leaned back slowly and felt his back creak and crack loudly. Some tight muscle in the depths of his broad back relaxed. Part of him really wanted to forget about the entire business, but he had promised his mother and he wasn't going to go back on it now. You just don't go back on promises made to the dying, especially if it was your mother.

With another heavy sigh, Joseph pulled out a chair and slid his broad frame into it. He pulled the package wrapped in simple brown paper that had come from his mother's private box at the bank to him. Light brown twine had the paper tied onto the item it was hiding. Had his mother tied the paper so tightly? It was carefully done. The twine was equidistant in spaces and the knots were well-practiced butcher's knots. Emily Adams had worked at his father's side in the butcher shop for years.

"Don't leave him in that box, Joey," his mother had whispered. "Take him home. It's time for him to go home. Tell him I'm sorry."

There was a part of Joseph that didn't want to open the package. There was a part of him that was certain he should have left it in the safety deposit box. There was also this little nagging voice in the back of his head telling him he could take it back and not open it, forget it even existed and when he was an old old man he could go back and open it and he still wouldn't be lying to his mom.

"But that isn't what you promised her," Joseph muttered out loud into the still apartment.

Reservedly Joseph reached over to the counter (the kitchen wasn't that large, just ordered and organized) and retrieved a knife. Joseph cut each piece of twine without truly trying to think. Next came the brown paper. It was wrapped around the thing four times and tucked down onto the top and bottom. When it was exposed, Joseph took in a sharp breath through his teeth.

The red stone was just as he remembered. It held the figure of a young man in his late teens. His hair was pulled back into a long ponytail and his face was a mask of anger, hurt and defiance. The kilt he wore looked as if it was blowing in a gale, exposing some thigh, but not too much.

Joseph took the stone and placed it in the center of the doorway of the kitchen, knelt and kissed the top of its head.

A glow of brilliant yellow, like sunshine cascaded down over the statue and then back up again. Little by little it grew until a full grown fellow of rippling muscles, bracers, and a sword was almost wedged into the doorway. Slowly he moved. He relaxed and then, carefully stood. He spoke in the Old Tongue and was asking where Elvera was. Joseph felt his throat tighten. How was he going to tell Olf their mother was dead?

Joseph reached into his pocket and tossed a small stone to Olf, who caught it remarkably quickly despite having been exiled for almost a thousand years in stone.

"Where is Elvera-mother? Why isn't she here?" Olf turned and looked about him, then turned slowly, taking in the wonders. "What year is it?"

"Mother is dead. She died two days ago. It is October 31st, 2006."

"Two thousand and six?" Joseph nodded.

"Do we yet rule?" Joseph shook his head slowly. "Then why have I been released?"

"Because Mother wanted you to come home and begin the line again."

"She wishes me to conquer?" Joseph nodded. Elvera hadn't really said that of course, but that is what she would want. It was time for the Old Ways and the Old Ones to return. The Twenty-first Century was quite boring with its unending wars and its pauses into almost peace without truly attaining it. Joseph felt it was time for Olf to have his chance at bringing back the Old Ways.

Olf laughed then, long and loud. Joseph hadn't heard a laugh like that for centuries.

"Let Ragnarok begin!" Olf laughed. "Let it begin!"

"How?" Joseph asked softly.

"Don't you know, brother?" Joseph shook his head. "We kill Odin and then we go through each tribe and kill their leader, and then all fight and all die, except for those who do not die." Olf flashed his brilliant smile. "It is time the Isles return to their rightful place. Where is Arthur?"

Joseph slipped passed Olf carefully and walked to the other bedroom. He pushed open the door. Arthur had truly fallen from his greatness. There he lay with a whiskey bottle in his hand and a nudy magazine spread open on his chest. Instead of the sleek warrior there was now a pot belly and several months of beard growth upon his face.

"The might Arthur has indeed fallen," Olf said, suddenly beside him. Olf jumped, still very much the warrior, and landed squarely upon the snoring Arthur. He pommeled Arthur playfully, if somewhat roughly until he awoke. Odd how alliances were made and broken and reformed. It was even more odd how things worked out for themselves without too much interference from Mrrlyn. How would Mrrlyn react to all of this, Joseph suddenly wondered.

"Lancelot! Let's go get some food!" Olf rolled from Arthur who was laughing loudly and so hard his belly was jiggling. How long it had been since Joseph had heard himself called by that name.

"Alright, Mordred, let's go, but not like that. People don't dress like that any more, unless for special events."

News of Vitas

According to the website, fans are being asked to request his music through MTV, Music Box, and other places. For myself, I am going to do just that. To check out his music go to his site http://vitas.com.ru/klip_eng.htm and check out the videos there. This is one time when I really wish I could read Russian!

The Sun Shines Brightly...

Sitting inside the library looking out at the bright sunshine and typing an entry for here makes me smile deep down inside even if I am not so much smiling on the outside.

Have finally arranged for rides to the library for three days a week. In that span of time I should be able to update quite a bit if everything goes well. And, honestly, I am working very hard at making everything go well.

Still, to say I "miss" the internet connection at my house is something that is beyond unbelievable and truly unexpressable to me. This is one of my greatest avenues of information and, yes, I miss it. I hurt for it almost, like a long lost lover's touch. I miss it as much...almost as much, as if I had run out of ink (which isn't going to happen for quite some time because of the bottles I currently have). Running out of ink would be horribly bad. Just as painful as if I had run out of paper.

But there sun is out today. It is shining right out that window about 100 feet away from me and it is wonderful. It is warm. It is that perfect autumn day you hear it sung about, read about...right out there. So what am I going to do? I am going to take my pen and notebooks and secure myself a lovely table by one of those windows and I am going to write. I am going to write without fear and without care, and I am going to enjoy the sunshine with as much glee as a giddy schoolgirl with her first crush!

Tomorrow I will be back with stories and poetry. Tomorrow there will be more to post beside just thoughts and ramblings of a sad, stressed out woman.