@GlennHefley
Just posted Chapter 46 in Witch Hunt the Wicked Wild. That novel is now at 46,000 words~.
Which brings me back to Grimm Wolf: Logan for a couple of chapters. Those are going to be exciting. I have been aching to get back to that story.
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For Witch Hunt the Wicked Wild, I had to do some overhauling. That being the latest chapter I posted a couple of days ago. I had an epiphany and decided to alter course. I hope you find the alterations enjoyable, and thrilling. So, re-scan chapter 37 Henrik, and I'll get on the rest of this book. I feel I can see the HEA glowing like a fresh sunrise about the breach the horizon.
Grimm Wolf: Logan, has new chapters ready for reading
# Characters on Characters # ### from Witch Hunt the Wicked Wild ### ---- ## Alice, on Henrik... ## Henrik doesn’t belong here. Not in my world, not in my space, not in my kitchen, drinking my beer like he has every right to exist. *And yet, there he is*. The problem with Henrik is that he doesn’t do things the way normal people do. He doesn’t just walk into a room—he occupies the resource. He doesn’t look at you—he takes you in, as if his vision has perfected the art of deep listening. And he does it so effortlessly, like it’s just the way he was raised, like he’s been built for this exact moment with all of its connected passions and mistakes. Like he’s spent his entire existence in the certainty that, whatever happens, he’ll survive. I want to hate that. I should hate that. But my traitorous brain has decided that "tall, sharp-jawed, and brooding" is my type, which is both inconvenient and deeply annoying. It’s not that Henrik is handsome. Handsome is too simple a word, too soft. He is all angles, built from the same stuff as old legends and battlefields, with the kind of presence that makes you check where the exits are. Just in case. And, he knows. He knows exactly how much space he takes up, exactly how heavy his silence is, exactly how much people notice him even when he says nothing. Henrik is the kind of dangerous that doesn’t announce itself with fangs or fire. He’s the quiet kind, the kind that settles in, that lingers just enough to make you question if you’re the one holding the knife, or if he handed it to you when you weren’t looking. And I don’t know if I want to fight him or kiss him. Which, let’s be honest, is probably the same thing. https://www.wattpad.com/story/371907225-witch-hunt-the-wicked-wild
Grimm Wolf: Logan has 19 chapters loaded (about 30k word count). Witch Hunt the Wicked Wild, has new chapters too.
Grimm Wolf was loaded up before, a couple of years back. I took it down for several reasons, but those reasons are no longer important. It is back up with a name change.
enjoy
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@GlennHefley I just noticed that chapter 16 has been loaded after chapter 19. Will this be fixed?
Witch Hunt the Wicked Wild is now at 40 chapters, and 36k+ word count.
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Gerald’s eyes flicker, “It is a *spectral storm.* The Wild Hunt and the spectral storm can’t be separated.”
Henrik scoffs, “Is that something we *know*, or just something we heard at a bar one night?”
“It’s too late for these discussions. Whatever it is, it’s close. I feel it now too,” Gerald tells us.
Outside is bright, cheery. There are no clouds of any kind to be seen. A soft wind is coming in from the west. Gerald begins putting up a barrier. Watching and listening, I apply harmonies to add strength and endurance to the construct. I feel the mana sparking and snapping around Henrik.
“Are you going to change?” I ask him, holding his hand with both of mine. I look up into his golden eyes. “Go beast mode?”
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enjoy!
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Posted the next chapter to Witch Hunt the Wicked Wild. Here's and excerpt:
Visualizing the Huntsman—the one who drove the Wild Hunt, the Hunter—I remember the bolts of thunder, the flashes of darkness and fire -- and I decide, yes. He could be aware of that. Aware of much else, too.
The Hunter is said to be a figure from myth and legend. Sometimes it is the Eldritch King. Sometimes it is Frau Perchta. Some even claim Odin's horns blow for the Hunt. None of these are certain truths.
What is true is that whoever dons the helm of antlers and rides the Hunter's mount becomes the Huntsman. And while they are, that is all they are—the Huntsman.
I just posted Chapter 37 of Witch Hunt the Wicked Wild. We coming up fast on 35,000 words making it officially novel size. Here's an excerpt, and I'll get back to it... enjoy.
Chapter 37
Alice
I caught myself absently tracing the contours of my lips with a gentle finger tip, and not paying attention to Gerald at all. As awareness dawned, I also became aware of myself, and got my finger out of my mouth, "I'm sorry, Gerald. What were you saying?"
"I'm already burning in hell, and you need me to repeat myself too?" Gerald replies, an orange, yellow, red flicker in his empty eyes glowing brighter on the beat of his accentual inflections. His voice, however, always sounds like it was just behind your left shoulder no matter where you were in relation to Gerald's skull.
Hi, it has been a while. Happy New Year. I hope you all get rich and healthy this year!
I had a few things come up, some pressing matters of health, but I have been trying to keep up the postings for Witch Hunt the Wicked Wild.
Soon (hopefully very soon) I will be working and posting the novel The Black Dog. It is a dark thriller, with serial killers, mythology, spiritual questions and some serious matters of health. Oh, and violence too. But I believe it is my best story, in that it asks the best questions.
Thanks for sticking with me, and hope to hear from you soon!
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