Jeanne Owens, author

Blog about author Jeanne Owens and her writing


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A Novel Idea- Stream of Consciousness Saturday #SoCS

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“Hey, Annie!” Jet called to his friend when she saw her sitting at a table in the back of the little cafe with her laptop open in front of her and typing away. An untouched cup of coffee sat on the table beside the computer.

She looked up from the laptop at the sound of his voice, a small frown on her face. He ignored her frown and gave her a hearty wave and big smile as he made his way over to her and sat down across the table from her.

“Whatcha working on?” Jet asked.

Annie scowled at him. “What do you think I’m working on, Jet? I’m working on my novel.”

“Oh. That thing? So, how’s it coming?”

“Well, it was coming along rather nicely until I was interrupted.”

“Oh. Well, why don’t you try working someplace where you won’t be interrupted?”

Annie rolled her eyes. “Gee. There’s a novel idea.”

Her sarcasm going right over his head, Jet continued on. “So, Annie, look. I’m in a bit of spot and wondered if you might could possibly help me out.”

Annie sighed. “It doesn’t involve me having to give you money, does it?”

“No. Not this time.”

“Good. Then tell me what the problem is and I’ll see if I can help.”

“Well, I don’t know how much help you can be, but if you can do anything, I’d appreciate it. You know I’ve been seeing Marissa, right? Well, she just told me she’s pregnant.”

“That’s wonderful! Congratulations, Jet!”

“Hold on. Not so fast, Annie. I’m not sure it’s mine. You see, I think she might be seeing someone else on the side. She disappeared the other night for a few hours. This was a month or so ago. When she finally came home, she said she didn’t remember where she’d been or what she’d done. But her clothes were all disheveled and she acted like she was drunk. I asked her if she’d been fooling around on me but she swore she hadn’t. Then a couple of days later, she started having nightmares, and I’d wake up in the middle of the night to find her standing at window, staring outside. A week or so after her disappearance, she started claiming she’d been abducted by aliens! I don’t know what to do? Do you think she was fooling around on me and is making all this alien stuff up? What should I do, Annie?”

Annie stared at him, mouth agape. She certainly hadn’t expected that sort of story. When she realized she was staring, she closed her mouth, took a sip of her by-now cold coffee, and pondered for a moment. “Jet,” she said finally, “I don’t think you have anything to really worry about. I pretty certain the baby is yours. From what I know of Marissa, she’s not the cheating type. And I doubt it’s an alien baby. She probably just got drunk and was embarrassed by it, and has probably been watching too much X-Files. But if you really are worried, you can always have a DNA test done. Also, I recommend you start looking for a good job. With a baby on the way, you’re going to need one to help take care of it. I know a few people, so I can put in a word for you, if you want.”

“Thanks, Annie! Thanks for listening, and your advice. You’re a good friend. And if you could put in a word for me with some people about a job, I’d really appreciate it.”

“Sure thing. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get back to my writing.”

“Sure, sure! I’ll see you later, Annie. Thanks again!”

He left with another a hearty wave. She gave him a small smile and a feeble wave in return as she watched him leave. Then she turned back to her laptop with a bigger smile on her face and a small chuckle of pleasure. Jet may have interrupted her from her writing, but he’d at least given her a good idea for her novel.


This short story is part of the Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt, “novel”:

The Friday Reminder and Prompt for #SoCS Nov. 5/16

 

 

 

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$0.99 Kindle Sale for Chronicles of Riss – Final Day!

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Confronting evil sorcerers. Fighting monsters. Dueling metal golems. Searching for a sea monster. Hunting lost treasure. Finding a missing show dog. Competing in talent contests. These are just some of the widely varied exploits that the young mercenary sorceress Marissa “Riss” Cobalt shares in this second Adventures in Sorcery book. Riss reveals how she ended up as a mercenary and chronicles some of the many adventures, ranging from fun to serious, that she’s had prior to the events of the book Kismet and Tell.

Today is your last chance to get Chronicles of Riss for the low, low price of $0.99 on Amazon! Don’t miss it! After today, it’ll go back to $2.99. So hurry and get your copy of this fun, fantasy short story collection at this special price!

Get it on Amazon here!


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A Goddess Awakens, Chapter 14

Well, I spent a few hours this afternoon writing, and about 1200 words later, I finally finished the chapter I’ve been working on.  I’ll share a sample here for you all. If you’d like to read it all, it’s available on my AuthorsDen page here, as it’s available for leaving feedback on. Previous chapters can also be found there.

 

excerpt of Chapter 14:

 

 

Anju lay curled up beside the door of the small cabin, his gaze roving around the room as he tried to fall asleep. The room was sparse of furniture, with only a small table at the far end of the room, and a couple of cots, one on either side of the room. There was no window, and the only source of light was an old, shielded lantern hanging down from the middle of the ceiling on a rusting chain. On the table lay Althea’s and Loren’s weapons, and the book Wren had risked her life to bring them. Anju remembered that after they had boarded the ship that morning and had gotten settled in their rooms, Loren had tried a few times to see if he could read any part of the book, but with no luck. He’d tossed the book roughly onto the table while muttering that he just could not recognize enough words to make any sense of it.

Anju also recalled how they had spent the first part of the day wandering around the ship, learning their way around, watching the sailors at work, and enjoying the scenery. But as the day wore on, they had found that there was really nothing for them to do, so they had retired to their rooms after supping with the captain at his invitation. Anju’s tail wagged slightly as he remembered how delicious the scraps of meat Loren had slipped him at the dinner table had been.

When Althea and Loren had returned to their cabin after dinner, Althea had lain down on her cot and drifted off to sleep while Loren had taken another try at reading the book for a little while before giving up and going to sleep himself. Anju had then curled up by the door to keep guard and watch over them.

Slowly, the wolf’s eyes closed.

A small sound from Althea’s direction made Anju’s ears twitch, and he opened his eyes and turned his head slightly to look. He saw Althea moaning softly and tossing lightly in her sleep.

Anju heaved a small sigh and was about to close his eyes again when Althea suddenly sat up. His ears pricked and he watched intently as she got up from her cot and walked over to the little table. To the wolf, her movements seemed just a little stiff, as if they were not quite natural, and though her eyes were open she did not appear to be fully awake, like she was not aware of what she was doing. Anju’s pale blue eyes narrowed and he watched her movements closely.

Althea looked over the items on the table, frowned at the book, then picked up one of Loren’s narrow-bladed knives and unsheathed it. Then she went over to Loren’s cot and stood beside it. She stared at Loren’s prone body for a moment, then slowly lifted the knife over his chest.

Anju leapt to his feet and growled.

Loren’s eyes snapped open at the sound, and he grabbed Althea’s wrist and twisted before he fully realized what was happening. The knife fell from Althea’s hand and to the side of the cot.

Althea gasped from the pain of the elf’s rough grip on her wrist. Then she blinked and looked down at her friend.“Loren?” she asked, confusion coloring her voice. “What’s going on? What am I doing over here?” Her gaze drifted to the knife on the cot, not far from her hand, and her eyes widened and the color left her face as she understood.

 


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Kismet and Tell

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When the nephew of a prominent nobleman goes missing, mercenary sorceress Marissa “Riss” Cobalt is hired to find him. The seemingly normal job quickly turns complicated for the solitary young sorceress, however, as she first ends up unexpectedly teaming up with a handsome swordsman, then finds herself the subject of an ancient prophecy. With a Demon hunting them, the young mage and her friend search for a lost relic of great power mentioned in the prophecy. Can Riss survive her various adventures and fulfill her destiny to save the world from the dark god, Yangul?

 
This is my first book. It is currently available on Amazon and Barnes and Noble as e-book and POD paperback.


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Thank you! Enjoy your sample

Wow! I’ve already picked up a few followers. Thank you for choosing to follow me. I hope to keep fairly active on this blog. I may not post every day, but I’ll try to post fairly regularly. I’ve been playing around on here for the past couple days, getting this page set up. I tweaked my “about” profile a little today. I think I’m fairly happy with how this page looks, for now at least. So I suppose I should return my focus to working on my book some more.  As a thank you, I’ll share a snippet of the book I’m working on. You’re welcome to share your thoughts on it.  (Note: I retain all rights to the fragment I’m posting)

(Excerpt from Chapter 12 of A Goddess Awakens)

Once Wren returned the flask to the bag, she stood up and chanted a quick spell. The resulting brief flash of light startled a squirrel rummaging in some nearby underbrush and sent it scurrying up the nearest tree to chatter in alarm. When the light faded, Wren’s human form had been replaced by a falcon.

The bird stretched its wings, flapped them a couple of times, then launched itself into the air.

Leaving the small forest clearing where she had stopped to rest, Wren flew south, following a well-traveled dirt road toward Maarkess. She stayed high up in the sky to avoid detection, in case she had been followed from the temple, although she had not noticed anyone following her.

She flew until late afternoon, then found a small clearing to take a brief rest in and eat a quick meal of more jerky and dried fruit washed down with a few swallows of water. Then she resumed her falcon form and took to the air again.

As dusk approached, she spotted something on the road a ways ahead of her. From her position, it looked like a bunch of ants on the road, but she knew it had to be a group of people, and they seemed to be moving rather quickly, most likely on horseback. Curious, she headed towards them while slowly drawing closer to the ground to get a better look.

As she got closer, she could see it was indeed a group of about a dozen men on horseback, riding single-file and at a brisk gallop. Wren flew a little ways ahead of them and alighted in a tree near the road so she could get a better look at them. As they drew near, she made note that they were soldiers dressed in armor, and their faces held looks of intense determination. She also picked up from them a sense that they were more than ready to fight at a moment’s notice.

Wren focused her attention on the lead rider, whom she assumed to be the leader of the group. He had dark hair sprinkled with spots of gray sticking out from a helmet with a long tail of white hair seemingly sprouting from the top of it. A short, neatly trimmed salt-and-pepper beard covered his craggy face, except for where a scar ran down his left cheek, from the corner of his eye to just above his chin. Unlike his fellow soldiers, though, this man had a look in his dark eyes that spoke of eager anticipation mixed with blood-lust. She did not like the look one bit, and felt very sorry for whomever the man’s target was.

Then Wren took notice of the second rider. Instead of armor, he wore a dark green priest’s robe with its cowl up to cover his head and face. Even with her sharp falcon eyes, she could not see his face clearly, though she got the impression that it was not human. The rider grasped the horse’s reins tightly with gloved hands, as if he was not comfortable riding the beast.

Wren had a bad feeling about the group and their presence on the road to Maarkess. So, as soon as they had gone a little ways passed her location, she flew after them, determined to find out more about them and their purpose.

Wren followed the group of soldiers until just after nightfall, when the lead soldier, the one with the scar on his face, called a halt and sent a couple of his subordinates to find a place to camp. Wren settled in a nearby tree to watch. The two soldiers returned a few minutes later and led the group into the forest. Wren followed them to a clearing not far from the road. She perched in a tree near the edge of the clearing, where she could watch them unobserved – all night, if need be.

The group tended to their horses before fixing a couple of small campfires, then split up between them for a quick meal. Afterward, some of the soldiers left the fires to lean up against trees to sleep. Others remained by the fires for a little while, sharing stories and flasks of what Wren assumed was liquor of some sort, before also retiring for the night.

The green-robed person, after tending to his horse, forsook a fireside meal and instead sat down beneath a tree at the very edge of the camp. Wren watched him for a while, but all he did was just sit. He kept the cowl of his robe up, so Wren could not tell if he slept, or just watched the camp.

The scarred soldier watched over his men for a while, then assigned a few of them to keep watch over the camp at intervals during the night. Then he also retired to a tree to rest. Wren could hardly believe her luck when he chose the tree right next to hers.

The young mage watched the camp for a couple of hours, then felt herself growing drowsy. With nothing interesting happening in the camp, she thought it was probably safe enough for her to take a quick nap. She was just about to tuck her head under a wing when the man with the scar stirred and began to mumble in his sleep. Curious, Wren watched him.

“At last,” he mumbled, his hand unconsciously reaching up to touch his scar. “You won’t escape me again, Lorenathalus. I will finally punish you, you filthy traitor.”

The man drifted back into sound sleep. Wren stared at him, confused by what she had just heard. He obviously held a deep, personal grudge against someone. Someone he considered a traitor. That was understandable enough. But the name he had said, Lorenathalus, had not sounded like a human name. Perhaps it was elvish, she mused. But why would this man being calling an elf a traitor? That made no sense to her.

Then a thought crossed her sleepy mind. She knew an elf. One who went by the name Loren. Could that be a shorted form of Lorenathalus? She was fairly certain it was. Which would mean…

Wren was not too sure what all it would mean, except that it probably was not good. But what she did know was that it meant Loren was in trouble. She rather liked Loren, based on what little she had seen and heard of him through the mirror, and she had to warn him and the others.

As quietly as she could, she flew from the clearing and back to the road, heading for Maarkess as quickly as she could.

In her hurry to leave, she did not notice the green-robed figure watch her leave.