Ghosts, Mystery, and Fashion
Hi Friends,
Just wanted to let y’all know that my eBook (supernatural mystery/romantic comedy) “Jaclyn’s Ghost“ is Free today (November 8, 2012) and will also be free tomorrow (November 9, 2012) on Amazon.
Jaclyn’s Ghost by Dorlana Vann
Ghosts, Mystery, and Fashion. Can this diva solve her own murder, or will she be stuck in limbo forever?
After recovering from the shock of seeing her own dead body, (still dressed to kill from last night’s party) fashion model, Jaclyn Jade, discovers she’s a ghost with a choice. She can either immediately go back to Hell, do nothing and stay in limbo, or find the reason she fell short of grace and advance to Heaven.
Because she was murdered, Jaclyn hopes that finding her killer will unravel this mystery. With the help of a timid closet-psychic who can speak to the dead, and a handsome, yet arrogant, ghost of a man from the roaring 20s, her search for answers initiates a quirky journey of self-discovery. Personalities, eras, and worlds collide as this mismatched trio race against time to solve the mystery of Jaclyn’s Ghost. Read Chapter 1 – Another One Bites the Dust
Links to Free ebook:
Love and Laughter,
Dorlana
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No NaNoWriMo this time
Since I’m in the middle of writing a novel right now, I’m not going to be writing a draft for NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month). And even if I didn’t have a work-in-progress, I don’t think I’d write another book the NaNo way.
I participated in my first Nanowrimo back in 2007 — The Princes of Tangleforest. And three more times (2 of these are still incomplete) over the past four years. Not long ago I would have sworn there was no way I’d write a novel any other way. But here I am back to writing the old fashioned way. I’m taking my time to think, I’m allowing myself to go back and add scenes as needed and get to know my characters now and not later when I rewrite the draft.
There is something to say about writing and leaving your inner-editor out of it–one of the recommended techniques for NaNo. But at the same time, I think in doing that, I created these stories that are more like shells of stories where I had to go back through and replot and cut/paste and pretty much rewrite the darn thing.
Seeing as the rough draft of the story is my least favorite part of writing a book, I don’t want to do it twice anymore. I think writing the book the way I’m doing now, my book should be fully plotted, and have fully developed characters by the time I get to “The End”, which really appeals to me.
I’m in no way bashing NaNo, my goodness it was very productive, 2 finished books and 4 rough drafts –err prerough drafts, later. I’m just saying that now, for me, it seems better if take a little more time on the first draft, cleaning up messes as I go, so I won’t have such a huge mess in the end.
Love and Laughter,
Dorlana
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It’s not always about you, Princess
Hi Friends,
So today I thought I would tell you about other people’s work. BTW – The title of the post was overheard in conversation and is now part of my work-in-progress. I think it’s hilarious. (It is true that what you say around me might end up in a book – or on my blog lol)
www.Vannink.com : Handcrafted pens and gifts – Can you believe that I’m a writer who is actually married to a pen maker! That’s right, my husband, Don Vann turns pens using exotic woods and custom acrylics and lot of other material. One of my writer friends had a custom pen made to match her book colors. Don also used logos, names, etc. to personalize pens. Christmas is coming up and these pens make wonderful one-of-a-kind gifts.
http://www.studio3bonline.com/ Sinfully Delicious Wick’d Potion Perfumes and Perfume Jewelry – Wick’d JFay of Studio3b is ready for Halloween. Stop by her online store, if you dare, and visit the Bloody Bordello of Vampire Perfumes, the Dark Fairy-Tale Line, and the Haunted GothicPage. Attention authors: she also creates custom blends to match your projects. BTW – Wick’d JFay is my sister.
UnHappily Ever After : Tales with a twist – writer Tammy Kane emailed me the other day about her photo/storybook, “Unhappily Ever After”, which she is publishing soon. You know me, I really appreciate unique and creative spins on fairy tales. You can stop by and “like” her page to keep up to date on this project.
Okay, so that is all I have for today that is not about me. I would love to make this a monthly post about creative people. If you would like for me to mention you and/or your project on one of my “It’s not always about you, Princess,” post, email: dorlanasfairytales at gmail.com
Love and Laughter,
Dorlana
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Alice’s Adventure in Wonderland inspired short story
“But I don’t want to go among the mad people,” Alice remarked.
“Oh, you can’t help that,” said the cat: “we’re all mad here. I’m mad. You’re mad.”
“How do you know I’m mad?” said Alice.
“You must be,” said the cat, “Or you wouldn’t have come here.”
From “Alice’s Adventure in Wonderland” by Lewis Carroll
If You Feed a Wolf
by Dorlana Vann
Nora ran, dodging trees and paying no mind to the twigs that scraped her bare arms and legs from shoulder to thigh. Once in a while, the high afternoon sun shone through the density of the woods, and she knew she had better hurry.
When she reached the beach, she admired all her sisters who had gathered for the festivities. The continuous breeze carried the ocean’s scent as it waved through her long, bright hair. She felt powerful and had no doubt that she would be the victor.
“Gather around,” said Mother Mabel. Even without her ceremonial robes she stood with confidence, stripped down to her breast and bottom coverings. She was the oldest and wisest in their community, beautiful and flawless. “It’s time for the first race.”
Considering her competition’s bronzed, muscular legs and stomach, Nora found her to be an equal opponent. She couldn’t recall her name, only that they had known each other for a very long time. Nora smiled, and the woman smiled back, but with more self-assuredness—like it was clear she’d leave Nora in the dust.
“Go!” shouted Mother Mabel.
Nora took off. Her legs were strong and her mind clear. She wanted to win, although she didn’t want the race to end. Her sisters raised their red-ribbon-tied spears and cheered. The further Nora ran, the thicker the sand gathered on her feet, but it didn’t stop her from crossing the finish line first. She took small, effortless breaths as she glanced behind her, but her opponent wasn’t there.
Where did she go? What did she look like? She wondered this as her sisters picked her up on their shoulders and paraded her around.
The moon, blazing orange, seemed to take the sun’s place in an instant. Everyone had gathered for the feast, eager and hungry for it to begin. The fire felt hot against Nora’s face and hands. She wasn’t hungry, but she couldn’t wait for the food. A bird with antlers flew down beside her and pecked the ground and then flew away again.
She watched as a wolf walked out of the forest. He stopped and then began to spin, around and around, in circles. No one else seemed to notice him until he sat down beside the fire. He was hungry. Mother Mabel threw him a crumb and told him to leave. He growled out of the side of his mouth but ran back into the woods.
“Nora,” Mother Mabel said, the fire’s light dancing on her face. “If you feed a wolf, it will leave.” She took a puff from her brass pipe and passed it to the sister sitting next to her.
A storm started brewing, and the wind blew sand over the fire. All was black, except for the light of the pipe, and it seemed to float to Nora. She took it in her hands but hesitated until she heard Mother Mabel say, “I will come with you on your journey. I will always be with you.”
Nora put her lips to the cold pipe and inhaled, feeling the sweet smoke invade her mouth and then her lungs, heavily gratifying.
When awoken by a sudden light and an uneasy rustling, she couldn’t recall ever going to sleep. She was afraid to look, but curiosity forced her eyes to fly open. Where am I? Like lyrics to a forgotten song, but without the sweet melody, she vaguely recognized the room. She couldn’t breathe; the four white walls were stifling. Other people were there, but she didn’t know them.
What did Mother Mabel say to me? “Something about a journey,” Nora whispered.
“Nora? Nora?” asked a lady with silver, stringy hair, wrinkles, and sunken cheeks. “Can you see me? Can you hear me?”
Nora nodded.
The old lady sucked in her breath and put her hand over her mouth. “It’s me … Mabel. Mabel.”
Nora shook her head because the woman didn’t look like Mother Mabel. But there was a resemblance. A similarity. The green eyes, the way she opened her mouth when she smiled. I will come with you on your journey. “But why do you look so old?”
The lady laughed. “Why indeed.”
“What kind of journey is this?” Nora whispered. She tried to stand, but her legs held no strength, and she fell to the hard, cold floor.
“Oh no, are you hurt?” Mabel said, trying to help her, but Nora refused, thinking she didn’t need help.
Nora sat on the floor, legs in front of her, staring at unkempt yellowing toenails that stuck out of dirty, pink slippers. She pulled up the gown she wore, revealing pale, thin legs. “What happened to me? Why am I here?”
“I’m so glad you can talk.” It took her a couple of seconds, but Mabel got down on the floor and sat cross-legged like a little girl. “You are talking, aren’t you?”
“Is there a reason? Is this a lesson? Does this have to do with the wolf?”
Mabel’s eyes widened and in a raspy whisper she said, “Wolf? What wolf?”
“It was by the fire, and you told me to feed it.”
Mabel inhaled, and her hands jittered about wildly. “Right. I told you about the wolf. You did hear me. You could hear me the whole time. Why didn’t you say anything?”
“About what?” Nora asked.
“Right.” Mabel bit her nails.
“Oh, Miss Nora,” a man wearing white from head to toe stood over them. “Am I in trouble!” Without asking, he helped her up and back into her seat. “Here.” He handed her a small container. “I got distracted on my rounds and plum missed you. Woo wee, we wouldn’t want this to get out.”
“No,” Mabel said struggling to untangle her legs. “No, she can’t have those.”
“Miss Mabel, causing trouble again, I see. You know what happened last time Miss Nora was off her meds for too long. She bit you. Remember?”
“It’s fine. I’m fine.”
The man held his hand out, now helping Mabel stand up.
“See,” Mabel said as she stood. “I’m fine. Don’t you see? Nora told me about the wolf. She heard my stories …”
He looked back at Nora and nodded. “Take them, Miss Nora, and you’ll feel a lot better. You’ll go right back to la la land.”
Mabel wiped her eyes. “But the fairy tales, she remembers. And I don’t have anyone to talk to.”
Nora looked at the two little pills in the bottom of the small clear cup.
“No, Nora,” Mabel pleaded. “Stay with me. Stay with me, please.”
Nora couldn’t see the value of her journey. She didn’t know why she had come to the colorless place where she had to be so weak and helpless and where her thoughts were foggy. “If you feed a wolf, it will leave.” As she looked down at the little white pills, the message the real Mother Mabel had given her became clear. In this strange place, she was the wolf. If she wanted to go back to be with her sisters and never leave the beach, she would have to feed the wolf the little white pills.
The End
If you Feed a Wolf was inspired by Alice’s Adventure in Wonderland. Lewis Carroll, United Kingdom: 1865. It is one of the paranormal short stories in my collection: Supernatural Fairy Tales – This is one of my favorites because it was experimental. I just let myself be free to write without a real plan. As far as what I took from the original story: it reminded me of how I feel in dreams – and some of the things that happen in this story are taken from my actual dream journal.
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What’s in a (Character) Name?
I’m trying to find a name to fit my romantic comedy’s female main character. Right now I have a placement name of Lexi Dylan, but it doesn’t fit her well, and I think it may be a little too cliché. To me, the names of my characters are just as important as any other aspect of my stories. Even if nobody else knows the meanings behind them, I do.
There’s a story/reason behind a lot of my names. Some names I picked just because I like a person associated with the name. My favorite TV series growing up was Charlie’s Angels; my favorite character was played by Jaclyn Smith. This resulted in Jaclyn Jade of Jaclyn’s Ghost. And there’s Scarlet of Silverweed: Scarlett was one of my best friends from childhood, and the name has always been a favorite. I’ve wanted to use it for a character name for a while. So when I needed a name for my Little Red Riding Hood inspired book, it was the perfect time to use it.
Sometimes my character names have deeper meanings related to the story. The Princes of Tangleforest was inspired by Rapunzel. In the original fairy tale, the witch named the baby after the mom’s addiction to rapunzels. In my story, I used that aspect as one of my inspirations and named my character Poppi – after the opium poppy. And in Passage to Queen Mesentia, I had to do a lot of research to name by 5,000 year old characters, which was a lot of fun.
Other times the names arrive from necessity, like Aiden from Silverweed. Originally, this book was going to be a sequel to The Princes of Tangleforest and Tanner was to suppose to have gone to Indiana to visit his crazy relatives, but as I was writing the rough draft Tanner’s personality didn’t quite gel. I had to create someone new.
And the list goes on. Now, I’m not sure if I’ve ever been at such a loss for a name as I am right now. I’ve referred to my book of baby names and yesterday morning I asked my little boys for the names of his girl 3rd grade classmates for ideas – lol. You know, it’s strange changing a character’s name when you have called them something for so long, but I guess, if it doesn’t fit, it doesn’t fit. So this is my next step:
Hello friends 🙂 *clears throat* So, what are some of your favorite female names?
Love and Laughter,
Dorlana
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Free Kindle eBook: a supernatural mystery
Passage to Queen Mesentia by Dorlana Vann
Hi Friends,
I have a free eBook for you this weekend (Friday & Saturday). Passage to Queen Mesentia. My ancient Egypt obsession, along with being a longtime paranormal fan, and my love for good old-fashioned treasure hunt stories are the inspirations behind Passage to Queen Mesentia. It is also a love story: forbidden, cursed, forever, lost, reawakened.
Here is the blurb:
The assassination of her archeologist parents thrusts Lillian Steward from her comfortable life into a dangerous quest for an ancient Egyptian artifact. The mystery guides her from Texas to Egypt as she follows the clues left by her parents. Accompanied by a mysterious stranger with a romantically tragic past and her protective ex-boyfriend, who is still in love with her, Lilly walks a tightrope of forbidden attraction and blind determination. Will they finally be able to bury the past, or will a history of love, hate, and blood repeat itself?
Here are some links:
Love and Laughter,
Dorlana
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Fairy Tale inspired short story: The Kingdom of Pillars
This is a light supernatural fairy tale combining “Beauty and the Beast” and fairies – I’m not sure of the exact date, but it is at least a few years old.
The Kingdom of Pillars
by Dorlana Vann
“I didn’t do anything!”
“Do you want father’s wings to be taken off? Is that what you want? You march yourself right back there.”
I stared at my sister, all blue and getting bluer by the minute. If we would’ve been having this conversation a couple of months earlier, I might have turned my back to her and aired her out. Instead, I smiled.
“What are you up to, Rose?” she growled.
“I understand everything now. I’m happy and miserable at the same time.” I sighed and sat down on a buttercup. “I even understand love and how it can fill your heart and break it at the same time.”
“You did go to the Kingdom of Pillars, right?” Indigo glared at me.
“I didn’t have a choice. Remember? Guards with sticks and mean words.”
“Hmmm… Are you telling me you fell in love in there? With what? Your reflection?”
“It is a lovely sight, isn’t it? But no, you see, I was once like you, only able to see outer beauty.”
“Is that so?” she said. “Let me get this straight. You think the Kingdom of Pillars is beautiful … or is the King?” I could see her thinking herself into a small gag and look of distaste.
“When I’d first arrived, I looked at them the same way everyone does. It’s like a line has been drawn between the lands. One side, our side, is light and green. You make one tiny step and the world becomes scary and dark. And I was scared.”
Indigo looked a wee bit uncomfortable, almost guilty, so I kept going.
“I understand why father picked me to go instead of you. You were already betrothed to Emerald before you were born. He had no choice but to send me. It wasn’t your fault I was born second. Always second. I understand that a princess had to be sent in order to bring peace. Besides, if I wouldn’t have gone, the curse might not have been broken.”
“Wait a minute.” She smoothed her long, sparkly blue hair behind her ears. “You’re telling me that you broke the five thousand-year-old curse?”
“It was the most wonderful sight in the whole entire world. First, let me tell you what happened in the beginning, when I arrived in the Kingdom of Pillars.”
Indigo arched her eyebrow as she sat down in the morning dew.
“I was a bit grossed out when I first met the King. You know how Pillars look, right? Kind of round and prickly-looking. Those black and yellow spots and rings aren’t very flattering either. Oh, dandy me, he crawled so slowly … on the ground. He had tiny little legs and those black little dot eyes. He was no where near as hideously handsome as Emerald.”
Indigo stared at me with curiosity and a growing grin, but at this, she looked down.
“I suppose I wasn’t the best guest,” I continued. “But I was in shock, you know, out of my element. Could you blame me? I was surrounded by these … grubs. Not to mention, I felt like my own family had deserted and sacrificed—”
She shot me a look. “Now you’re just being dramatic.”
“Really? My husband had sixteen legs.”
“You just told me you thought he was beautiful,” she said smugly.
“Well, maybe at first, I didn’t. I hated him, the place, you …”
Indigo crossed her arms.
“The first night I did nothing but sulk and refuse anything offered to me. Really now, how could I eat that dull food? Everything was already half dead, like winter had already arrived. It seemed strange to eat and live in such sadness. That was how I felt; alone and sad as I sat there and watched them eat and eat in the madness of the day. King would look at me every once in a while and ask if I was okay. I hate to say, but I turned my back to him and fluttered my wings.
“He kept asking, again and again, so I let him have it. I told him exactly what I thought about him and his ugly kingdom. I hurt his feelings, and I was glad … until he said, ‘I’m sorry, my Queen. I will not bother you again. Even though your presence makes this gloomy world bright, you are free to leave.”
“So you did?” Indigo jumped up and put her hands on her hips. “You came back home! How could you, Rose?”
“But I didn’t!” I smiled. “At that very moment, I felt special. More special than I had ever felt in your shadow. Indigo this, and Indigo that. I was Queen, no longer a princess.” I wrapped my arms around myself and flew into the air, twirling around as I did.
“Get down here, Rose,” she shouted.
“Come with me,” I said. “You have to see.”
She sluggishly stood, but a second later she was beside me, and we flew through our forest.
“Oh … he lavished me,” I continued. “He was kind and made me feel like I was the most important creature in the world. He brought me flowers and dew drops and honey. The food didn’t taste as dull as it looked, it was fine. Everything was fine.”
“Hmmm … so then, if it is such paradise, why are you here?”
“One day he told me not to worry, that he would be sleeping for a couple of days. He said the kingdom did this every couple of months. Still, when it happened, I grew scared and cried and cried over him.”
“You cried because he went to sleep?”
“No, not just asleep; it was bizarre. They were all wrapped in these web-like cases.” I tried to explain it with my hands. “I didn’t think he could breathe in there. Something was wrong. I thought he was dying, so I sprinkled my life-dust on him.”
Indigo’s mouth grew into a giant circle and she stopped mid-air. “You used your personal dust on him? Rose, you know you can’t use it on yourself any longer! If something happens to you—”
I held up my hand. I understood the consequences. “It doesn’t matter. The most amazing thing happened. His prison started coming apart, and the most beautiful, amazing winged creature emerged. It was my King! He had huge double-like wings, oh so much bigger than any fairies. So many colors! Not just one, like ours. He was bright yellow and white and orange.” I put my hands to my face. “And then, and then… they all emerged. The entire kingdom, all so colorful and beautiful, floated into the air. They reminded me of buttercups, daisies, and roses, being blown by the wind. Even the dark, gloomy clouds drifted away and the sun began to shine.”
Indigo’s face froze with an expression of bewilderment. Then she said, “I didn’t think it was true. I had heard that they used to be beautiful creatures before one of us cast a spell.”
I closed my eyes as my thoughts turned bittersweet. “We played and flew and chased for days on end. Even when the sun set the splendor of the colors was almost more than one could bear. But then …” I grabbed her hand and flew faster to my destination.
“What?” She asked, letting me drag her through the air. “What happened? Why do you look so sad? If it was so wonderful, why did you come back?”
I choked back a cry with a smile as I looked at my sister who seemed genuinely concerned. “Like snowflakes they all slowly began to return to the earth. I went to the king, who balanced on a leaf barely able to move. I asked what was happening.” I held my hands to my heart as I remembered his words. “He told me not to worry, that I had broken the curse. That he and his kingdom owed everything to me and my sacrifice. My little fairy dust did all of that. I went to give more, and he told me he didn’t need it. He said he had finally been able to live out his cycle and now it was time for them to move on—to die. They had been trapped and unable to evolve for thousands of years.”
Indigo gently pulled free to wipe her eyes. “That is so sad,” she said.
“The fluttering of their wings quietly died away. The last words my king said to me were, ‘Long live Queen Rose.’” I pointed down to the valley below. “Look! Can you see them?”
Indigo sucked in a quick breath. “I thought you said they all died.”
“They,” I said looking at my adopted children, “are the next generation. A generation that will live, fly, and die like they are suppose to. This is why I came back to see you one last time; I needed to tell you, to tell father, that the feud between the two lands is truly over. And from now on, my home is no longer to be called the Kingdom of Pillars, but the protected Land of the Butterflies.”
The End
Dorlana Vann - Author 
