How to Destroy Angels

How I’m spending my Valentine’s day

How am I spending my Valentine’s day? Sipping echinacea┬átea (because I am sick), listening to some Mazzy Star (because I love 90s wrist cutting music) and writing about demons. (because it’s one of my favorite things to write about)

I hope your Valentine’s day is as killer as mine.



My gut might be telling me something, or it could just be indigestion

I started writing a new first chapter for “A Destruction of Angels” last night. My gut keeps telling me to start with my main character and in first person. It’s a much better representation of the rest of the book. Plus it’s one of those “rules.” And it’s probably a good one, especially for beginners. Had I more experience or a huge following I could probably break that rule, but in this case I think its wise to follow it.

So we’ll see where this chapter takes me. It won’t be a long one, but I think it will clear up some things that my betas keep asking about. And everyone will be introduced to the main character right off the bat.

Ugh…that first chapter. Its’ so damn important!

Anyway, I’m off to Mt. Charleston for some hiking today. Maybe I’ll get a burst of creativity. Hopefully I won’t spend the whole time composing the story in my head as I’m sure my companion will grow sick of my half-hearted “uh-huhs, huhs, mmms, and oh yeahs,” and will want some real conversation.


I’m a little behind on my writing but it’s been so nice out it’s been real hard to stay indoors in front of a computer. Anyway tomorrow I’m going to spend the day hiking so today I’m going to focus on writing (and laundry – yuck)

I’m going to try to accomplish the rough draft for my horror/erotica (mild erotica mind you) piece and then also think about some decisions…not make them…but heavily contimplate…what I’m going to do with “A Destruction of Angels.”

I really have the most wonderful beta readers. They’ve given me a lot to think about. There’s some conflicting opinions as well, so at the end of the day I’ll have to go with my gut and what I believe in. Even if it may not necessarily be what the readers want.

One thing that is obvious is my world building skills need work. Readers are asking way to many questions. I know there is something to be said for leaving a little mystery and a slow reveal. At the same time I think I’ve done it to the point of distraction and that’s not what I want.

The big glaring issue is deciding on how to begin. I’m just not convinced the beginning is a strong as I want it to be. If it has that hook. I hear over and over again my first person writing is so much stronger, but that doesn’t happen until several chapters in, and you don’t really start to get a feel for the main character until then. Someone suggested I stay with the alternating POV but rewrite it all in first person. I think I’m going to give this a shot. Rewrite a few chapters in first person and see how it compares. It will be interesting putting myself inside the heads of some of my other characters instead of just being an observer.

I may have multiple personality disorder by the time this is all done and said. It will go well with my other numerous quirks.

The dreaded sex scene

Every time I put something out there for the world to read, I can’t help but feel a little intimidated. I’m asking someone to take a peak inside the dark corners of my mind with the hope my fantasies happen to be entertaining. I hope you want to see more. It can be exciting and exhilarating and at the same time I feel naked and exposed and vulnerable…and that damn self doubt always seems to creep its way in.

The sex scene takes it to a whole new level. “Hey guys, I’m going to get naked and have sex, will you all please gather around, watch, and when I’m done give me a nice little critique?”

I know from talking with other writers I’m not the only one to struggle with this. I’m not a romance writer, nor an erotica writer (Kat Crimson if you’re reading this you rock) But several of my characters are driven to excess, and that includes sex, so I can’t avoid it forever. I know it can also be a great place to develop your character and explore their relationships with others.

So pink cheeked and grinning I suppose I’m going to pop the cherry on this one and dive on in. Anyone have any good (penis) tips they’d like to share…(sorry couldn’t help myself)

I’m starting with a flash fiction piece that was inspired by some artwork. It’s a little horror, a little bizarre and a little erotic. I keep pestering myself to write it. If it turns out half way decent I’ll share.

It’s all in the Presentation

“Tell me you have onions in your pockets and you are not actually crying.” The Devil’s footsteps stop next to me and he kneels down. His fingers slip under my chin and he tilts my head back so that I’m forced to look at him.

‘This may come as a shock to you, but I’m about to use the Lord’s name in vain. Prepare yourself. Jesus Fucking Christ. You are crying. You’re shedding tears over this douche.” He throws up his arms in exasperation. “No wonder you took the form of a woman. You are impossible to please!”

“You knew I had loved him. And you thought this would please me?”

“I kind of thought you were over him when you said you wanted him dead. Silly me. Damned if I do. Damned if I don’t. The story of my life!” The Devil rises. “Perhaps if I had brought his head on a silver platter.” He mumbles to himself. “They say it’s all in the presentation.”

Excerpt from “A Destruction of Angels”

The future held nothing but suffering

The angel called Death turns his horse, the reigns wrenching the beast’s head to the side. The horse screams and his hoofs are like thunder as he charges to meet her. She is sure he meant to run her down, to crush her beneath him. The stallion veers just slightly to the right, missing her, so close that she can feel the coarse hair of the horse’s flanks scrape against her skin.

That pale horse turns again and circles her. Death leans down, sliding sideways on his mount, and she can see his lips move. She cannot hear what he is saying, she only knows that he is perfect. That he is beautiful. She raises her arms, begging him to take her. To snatch her up and carry her away. His smile is vile as his head moves side to side. No. And she knew she was destined to survive. She was destined to live. And the future held nothing but suffering.

More editing

I’m back to editing this morning. I meant to put “A Destruction of Angels” down for a time but I can’t seem to do it. I can hear Medusa’s snakes hissing at me. Do you ever get to the point where you feel satisified with your work? That it feels good enough?

I can’t figure out if this is lack of confidence, or over-confidence because I feel like I can make it better.

I also want to start on the sequel (while writing some Greek mythology shorts) I’m kind of excited because I know its going to eventually lead into this post-apocalyptic world. I haven’t tried anything like that yet and I’m stoked about it. And nervous.

The feed back from my betas so far is that my world building skills need work. No, no one has come out and actually said it, but by the questions they ask I can tell. So this after Aarmagedon world I’ll be creating will be a challenge for me.

The first possession

The body I had created, had given so much painstaking detail to, to make sure it was perfect, more beautiful than all the women of this earth, I left it. Let it drop to the ground and it rolled into the grave.

And then I was inside the dead women. I was inside the blackest of black caves, there was no light or warmth or sound. I was trapped inside this lifeless body. I try to scream, to ask Lucifer for his help, but I could not make a sound. I pound against that dead flesh that is my new cage with all my strength. I will her to open her mouth, to take a breath. And finally she does, and it burns.

The screaming continues for some time until all the poison has leaked out of me. I have to push my old discarded body aside to sit up. “Help me out.” I tell my friend. He does nothing for some time, but stares. I have to repeat myself several times until finally he nods and extends a hand to pull me from the grave.

“I didn’t…I didn’t know we could even do that.” He shakes his head incredulously his hands moving across the new skin I had created.

“Yes, well that trick may come in handy some day.”

Looks like defeat

Ben can feel the blood running from his nose. At first just a trickle as pressure builds up behind his eyes, but then that pressure bursts, rocks him back on his feet. The pain is like razor blades burrowing into his brain. The trickle turns to a hot steady flow. His vision is nothing but lightening. He’s sure he’s busted a vessel in his brain. He doesn’t’ care. He has to close the portal.

Through the white light he can still see flashes of that ugly gray swirl in front of him. Like thousands and thousands of angry flies battling over a fresh carcass. And through that grayness those brilliant snake eyes, like green fire eager to devour everything in its path. Lucifer smiles, a mouthful of razor sharp teeth.

That tear in reality shrinks, until it is just a tiny black speck hanging in the air. Swallowing up fangs and fire and for a moment Ben thinks he’s won. But then that speck trembles and explodes outward, lifting him off his feet and knocking him on his back. His head cracks against a rock, and he can see stars in the sky that aren’t really there.

When Ben’s vision clears Lucifer is standing over him, one bare tanned foot is on his chest holding him down. The form was an illusion, one only Ben could see. But the power that was holding him in place, that was very real. Eventually Lucifer would find a human host. Ben pitied whoever was going to be taken along for that ride. Lucifer offers him a handkerchief. “You’ve got something on your face there Benny. Looks a lot like defeat.” He is in his human form, his smile smug, his eyes still slitted like a snakes.

Excerpt from “A Destruction of Angels”


“When we first came down to earth,” Maleck says. “It was for the women. We were content at first to watch. But the more we looked the more the seeds of desire were nurtured. It was Lucifer’s idea to take the form of man, even though it was strictly forbidden. I still remember how it was for us. Every taste, every touch, every sensation, it was all a marvel. Do you remember that?”

“No,” I say and that small movement gives me the tiniest of nicks. It burns like fire, like the edge was dipped in poison. My eyes tear up and I try to pull away. Maleck holds me fast, smiling at my reaction.

“Sorry,” he says shrugging as if it were an accident. “Don’t remember that either? Huh…Well of course at the time we had no idea of the consequences of those simple little pleasures,” he continues with his story. “We couldn’t fathom our Father, the one who laid this great temptation before us, would turn his back on us, cast us out.”

“Do you have regrets?” I say even as the blade scrapes against my skin, causing me to wince.

“Regrets?” he says thoughtfully. “What an utterly useless emotion. I suppose I have regrets. But they are not the same regrets you are thinking. Ah, but I digress. For the longest time, for me, and for the others, there was no greater pleasure than making love to a woman. Being inside of her. It was the greatest wonder of all. I have since found something I enjoy even more.” He twists the blade, its sharp edge burying itself into muscle and scraping against bone. I grit my teeth against the pain. “I’ve discovered something much more intimate, a way to really get to know someone. And the screams, they are never faked.”

He slices the knife down my face, ending at my jaw line and then brings the blade to his mouth. “Mmmm, you taste delicious. Like bacon. Like a fucking fat spoiled pig.”

Excerpt from a “A Destruction of Angels”