Realms of the Raven

Visitor
(c) 2008 by Maura Anderson, all rights reserved

Something was not right.

Sata paused with the alarm code only half-entered, distracted by the odd tingle that traced up her spine. A familiar sensation but not one she’d felt since she’d chosen enter a voluntary exile in the land of the humans. Her land now.

The louder tones of the alarm’s final ten second warning pulled her back from her memories in time to key in her code and deactivate it. She really didn’t need a false alarm fine or an audience for her confrontation with whatever was waiting for her.

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I’ve been tagged with this meme by the evil Denise McClain. I will admit that I suck at these things, so be kind!

Though, I will admit I got Mr. Maura to decide on these for me:

1. I’m currently watching Alton Brown’s Good Eats show as I’m trying to answer these questions.
2. My least favorite noise is the sound of nails on a chalkboard. I want to stuff a screwdriver in my ear to make it STOP.
3. I’m definitely a cat person, not a dog person. Which is really strange coming from someone who writes about coyote shifters.
4. I’m completely chicken about driving in snow and ice. I’d rather stay home with my six year old instead - and that’s saying a lot.
5. I’m a total crafting junkie. If you name it, I can probably do it as long as it’s not painting. I could probably open my own craft store and have one room that is JUST crafting.
6. My coffee mug in use right now says “My greatest fear is that there is no PMS and that this is my personality”.
7. My favorite bird is a Raven - or could you guess that one?

I have no idea who to tag that hasn’t already been tagged, so join in if you want to play!

I’m in the process of moving my blog to my website to both cut down on the number of things I need to maintain and to allow better control of my content.

The archives should be moved soon.

Please check out it’s new home on my website for new posts!

Del Fantasma: Texas Tea is a finalist in the Fantasm Awards for Best Shapeshifter (non-wolf) Romance!

Voting will begin in February but you can click the graphic above to see the other finalists! Lots of really great company there!

Anna
(c) 2008 by Maura Anderson, all rights reserved

Still. Dark. Silent.

Slowly the nothingness began to recede.

She floated in a chilly sea of mist, surrounded by shades of grey, her movements slow and sleepy. Peaceful and calm, her body embraced by the fog even as her mind began to wake.

Anna.

She contemplated the name as she drifted. It felt right, it felt natural. Surely that was her own name. It had to be.

My name is Anna.

The acknowledgement seemed to open a floodgate – memories assaulted her. An invasion of visions, sounds, even tastes and smells overwhelmed her. Her mind writhed from the onslaught, helpless in the grip of the experiences it relived.

Noooooooooooooooooo.

Her silent scream faded off as she descended again into the misty silence, unable to process the bombardment.

***

Anna McInnes. She was Anna McInnes.

This time she knew who she was and the memories were still present but she no longer felt as if they were attacking her. She could picture her own face and body. She remembered her parents and that they were both dead, gone for many years.

Where am I? What happened?

She remembered leaving her house to go to her friend, Jo’s. She’d climbed into her car and started it, then began the short drive. But she didn’t remember arriving. What did that mean? Where was she now?

She couldn’t see anything. Anna tried to touch her face to make sure her eyes were open but her body didn’t seem to respond to her demands. Only silence and drifting sensations met her efforts.

Determined, she pushed her fears aside and willed herself to move, to control her body.

Nothing.

I have to move. I have to know I’m okay.

She focused every bit of her will on moving just her fingers. Just one finger. Surely she could do that. Finally, as if a tightly stretched barrier burst, she felt her right hand move at the same time a wave of excruciating pain swept over her, throwing her back into her grey silence.

***

“What the hell are you doing?”

Anna’s eyes shot open at the shouted words. She was laying on a damp, cold surface that was so hard it felt like she was laying on a rock. Her head swimming, she tried to push herself upright only to realize she was so weak she could barely manage it.

“Well, Miss, what are you doing here? Do you have no respect?” The voice was closer now. “Are you on drugs?”

Anna managed to rise to her knees on the flat surface. She wrapped her arms around herself, cold and shivering now. Looking down, she realized she was wearing a dress she didn’t recognize. A thin flowery fabric in a style she never wore. Where the hell had that come from?

It seemed like she couldn’t focus her eyes. Everything seemed to waver and shimmer. It was so bad she would swear she could see through her own body, impossible as that was. But the stone slab she was on seemed solid enough.

Lifting her head, she saw a stone wall in front of her with words engraved on it. Reading them, she almost fell over again when she realized what the words meant.

Anna Marie McInnes – Beloved Sister and Friend.

Lightning
(c) 2008 by Maura Anderson, all rights reserved.

She will die young and without knowing true love. As the storm embraces her, the kiss of lightning will be her death, yet she will be endlessly drawn to her killer.

“Look Mom, I need to concentrate on driving. I’ll call you when the storm has passed to let you know I’m okay.” Even her mother wouldn’t argue with that excuse.

“Okay, Joann. Please be careful. Stay away from the storm. I can’t bear to lose you now.” A hint of tears was obvious in her mother’s voice. Jo knew the pain of her father’s death still hadn’t eased for either of them, even in the three years since he lost his battle with cancer. Her mother was terrified of losing her only child as well.

She hung up the phone and found herself stopping at another light. Only five miles to her house. She certainly should be able to make it in time – she hoped.

The obscure prophecy of her Romani grandmother hung over her head since she was born. All through Jo’s life her mother sought to prevent the curse – for it was really more curse than prophecy – from coming true. Any hint of a thunder storm and her mother would demand that she lock herself in the large guest bathroom, the only room in her childhood home that had no windows.

Jo hated that room. It always made her feel as if she were being suffocated. She tried to avoid it as long as possible, often having to be forced into it by her mother as the storms were breaking.

But the older she got, the more she absorbed her mother’s fears. She didn’t want to die.

Jo pulled up into a line of cars waiting at a stop sign. While she waited for her turn, she found herself watching the storm clouds writhe and twist in the sky. The horizon seemed alive with movement.

A glance in the rearview mirror at the sky behind her instead revealed her own face. Her curly brown hair always reacted badly to humidity and was now a bit frizzy, despite the expensive hair care products she lavished on it. Her face was so pale that the light makeup she had on didn’t disguise its pallor and her hazel eyes appeared huge. She looked frantic. She felt frantic.

When she’d realized the storm was coming in a lot earlier than predicted, she’d told her co-workers that she was suddenly feeling ill and had to leave the meeting early. She could tell by the knowing smirks they exchanged that they were condescendingly amused by their only female programmer’s fear of storms.

But they were wrong. Jo wasn’t afraid of storms. She was drawn to them in an almost irresistible attraction. The only thing that kept her inside in her safe room was the damned prophecy. An avowed disbeliever, she was still afraid that it might be true and had no desire to die.

Finally through the long line at the stop sign, Jo turned down the main road into the area her isolated house was located just as raindrops began to fall. She felt vaguely sick as the rain grew heavier and the hair on the back of her neck stood up.

At last she pulled into her own driveway. If she could just get into the house before the power was released. Before the lighting or thunder started. “Home. I’m home.”

She shut off the car and readied her keys, locating the one to her front door. A deep breath and she grabbed her purse and opened the car door, ready to race for the house.

As she slammed the car door shut, she felt it the raw power and presence of the storm surround her. Her heart pounded in her chest and she tried to force herself toward the house but instead stood frozen in awe, unable to move.

The sharp smell of ozone finally broke her free of her paralysis and she ran across her lawn toward the house. But before she could reach the door, she was lifted and thrown backwards through the air.

A small part of her realized she could no longer feel her heart beat as before the blackness enveloped her.