Obviously, the website is changing a bit. Most of the changes are minor and meant to move to a responsive template that better reflects the reality that many of us no longer consume the internet on a desktop computer anymore. The old template was okay, but some of the screens struggled, and it was beginning to look dated. So, we have a new template. I hope folks like it, because these redesigns are a PITA. And not the good kind.
winds of change - decorative banner, path in the woods in autumn with starry gate looking circle at the base of the path.

Old mutterings haunting...

I've been mulling lately whether to return to an old story that I started a couple of times some years ago. Like most of my attempts at fantasy romance it went nowhere, and yet still stirs something when I read it. I never got a great response from The One That Feels, and I'll admit that makes me hesitant, both for this story and another--Lost—that is nearly complete. But there's that stirring thing, and that's not to be let go of lightly. Here's a snippet. Interested? Let me know in the comments.
Lost in an ocean of feeling that wasn't touch and vision, that wasn't sight and hearing, that was felt more than heard, Allen slept, and dreamed and screamed. Yes, of that he was certain, the screaming. And slowly, gradually, the vision became something seen, and the touch was of a hand in his and of the touch of his skin against an other, and he could hear voices and music and the thump thump of the heart that was not his and the fierce growl of something inhuman. Of a creature.
 
Allen gulped, and he knew when he opened his eyes what he would see. He screwed his eyes closed even tighter and banged his head backwards into a mass of something soft that he wished was harder. He'd been noticed. He'd been careless. And now he was...
 
"I am Allen Douglas!" he hissed through clenched teeth, too aware of how feeble the soft croak of his voice must be. He couldn't even hear his own words.
 
There was a low groan, as of wood taking on a great load all at once and straining not to break. "Shush," said the creature. The voice was even more inhuman than before, and yet Allen knew, somehow, that it was the same one.
 
"I am—"
 
"You are home," said the voice. "I have fulfilled my vow."