Thursday, July 19, 2018

The Final Lullaby Tour Prologue

The Final Lullaby Tour Prologue
All rights reserved
Copyright Katherine Rochholz

Prologue: Birth October 13th, 1962

            There is an old superstition that floats around the lands: When there is a ring around the moon something wicked this way comes. Upon the night that Doyle Azrael Sullivan was born the ring was blood red and so pronounced the science community would talk about it for years after the fact. It would even be brought up in a trail of a century almost sixty years later. For upon that night the media would claim a demon from hell was born, after all he shared a name with the falling angel of destruction, though the name meant ‘help from God’ once upon a time.
            But that would be far into the future; for now Doyle is just starting out upon his path in life, never knowing exactly how he will live up to his name: Dark Angel Of Destruction, a name that would be a title of a book far into the future.
            For now upon that cold October night in 1962, shivers went down the backs doctors and nurses, that had nothing to do with the weather, when they looked upon the silent newborn that had been born with a tuff of black hair and amber eyes, the copper color around the pupil as red as the ring around the moon that night. A shiver that was a forewarning of the red that would flow in his wake.


Tuesday, July 17, 2018

Honest To God Realistic Writing/Publishing Schedule

They are all basically final drafts and edits going on this year.
July: Elemental Mazes/ 1st draft of Sister Death/To Bring An End
         Short Story The Final Lullaby Tour
August: Finalizing Elemental Mazes for publishing.
September: Praying Final Draft

          Existence Short Story Final draft
October: Monster University II (1 short story a day for 31 days plus 3 bonus)
November: The Keepers Untitled Sequel
December: Plotting 2019 (Mostly the last 3 Katy Lily books).

Monday, July 16, 2018

Choosing Between 2 Titles

In am conflicted between 2 titles of my Camp NaNoWriMo Novel.

Sister Death


Endask Til: To Bring An End?

Basic Plot:
I have walked alongside the River Styx and longed to cross, cross to find oblivion or peace, even pain, anything to end this immortal boredom. When my sisters became the Norse deities Future, Fate, and Present I was forced to become Sister Death. I call Gjöll the River Styx to piss of the other Norse deities. After all I am the Sister Death. Sister to the Fates, To Life. While Freya is worshiped, the Fates known as Skuld, Uror, and Veroandi, are revered and respected. People forget that they gave me a power all of my own. Even Hel forgets that she is not the Queen of the Dead. I am the judge of the dead, the true Queen, I choose where the souls of all of the nine realms go. From Asgard to Midgard. They just call me Sister Death. But I once had a name. Though even I am forgetful of it sometimes. Nowadays I just answer to Death. And even through all my manipulations I gain more and more power… power I never wanted, never desired, and for sure never asked for. I tried many things to destroy myself. And I shall at least destroy those who have cursed me to become Sister Death…

Monday, July 9, 2018

Update 07/09/18

Found a slight plot hole in Elemental Mazes. Closing up and creating the final draft now. I have pushed the publishing date to late summer/early fall 2018. Until then stay tuned for short stories and Microfiction stories! Right here on this website and on my Facebook page! Thanks for supporting me!

Working on a new short story/novelette now! Will be posting in a few weeks!

Friday, July 6, 2018

Dirty Secret A Micro Fiction Story

Dirty Secret
Copyright 2017
All Rights Reserved

There he goes, not even noticing how I look at him. He doesn’t notice the look in my eye. He doesn’t see that he owns my heart and soul. He doesn’t know how much I need him.
It is wrong I know.  But I can’t help but love him. I try to stay away. I try to remember he isn’t mine. I try. I try so hard.
Sometimes I slip. 
But only when I am drunk, which is often, as I love him so.
I love him.  How could I not?
It really is a sight to behold, that man. 
But I am nothing but a dirty secret, for when he has had too much to drink, when the job gets to tough, and when he just needs someone other than his wife. He comes seeking a comfort only I can give.
But then he leaves again; the clock mocks me as it flashes two in the morning.  Four hours.  For four hours he was mine.
And now he will go back to her.  His love.  His soul.  The one that doesn’t have to be the dirty little secret.  The one that gets to tell the world he is hers. The one that gets to tell the world that he belongs to her. That the world knows has his heart. Even if I have his body for hours at a time.
I get up and look in my cabinet.  The gun he gave me is there. For my protection, he had told me. He had a lot of enemies.
The pills the doctor gave me are there. For my depression. My anxiety. My seizures. All there.
I am sick of being someone’s dirty little secret.  I look at them, but I slide down to the floor and sigh.
I don’t know how long I am there.  But suddenly I hear my door open; only he can get in to my apartment.  I wait for something, but nothing is coming.  I hear the bathroom door open.  He is standing there above me.  He has a gun.  I look up at him.
            “You can’t be my dirty little secret anymore.”  He pointed the gun at me and shot twice, into my chest.
            As I lay there, the pain of the bullets in my chest, I was gasping for air.
I hear another shot; he had turned the gun upoin himself and shot himself in the head.
I struggle to get up.  I make my way to the phone… I dial emergency services. “He killed himself…”  I gasped out, and then my world went black…
I was no longer his dirty little secret.