Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Amor animi arbitrio sumitur, non ponitur "We choose to love, we do not choose to cease loving"


Hoping that your Holidays were wonderful...

I wanted to extend my immense gratitude to Marshall Wayne, who is placing a fan web site up...wowa. So uber cool and wicked awesome!
THX MARSH!

I'm listening to the Randy Rogers band "Lost and found" and "I miss you with me" give it a solid listen, here in Texas, like anything else, we do 'loss' bigger and better...lmao
I wrote these three items for loss, for new beginnings and of course endings...

"There will come the day when the hands of courage, kindness and friendship shall take hold of yours
never holding you back
for love will always free your soul, allowing your spirit to find its reason;
to realize success in endevours...finally the acceptance that all of the pain
all of the lessons learned
brought at last your hands together...boundless, eternally free in unity...."



******************************************************************************



For there is always a debt to be paid by the breech of the morning suns glare in our eyes
"why?" I ask...as the endless streams of sadness flows
do I find this day and that of the morrow without you in residence?
Your life left mine, ripped away all to suddenly...
I'm determined to remember everything, devastating or no'


The gift you left behind was unimaginable...back in time...
though today, I am in full recognition of said...

Love is deeper in a well that has been cultivated, carved into the sides of our souls...
To later procure for a true believer in hopes shimmering light...
Oh I've given up, more than once
visited your grave
-and left with more unanswered questions then not
yet always I return
How? Tell me how do I find that which was you
How do I feel that sense of wholeness again?
----------------------------------------------------------
"No debt goes un paid" I heard him remark.

I gently inquired as to his thoughts prior
he responded "its the 'new' of the 'New years' and suddenly I find that I owe myself so much more than...this. Don't you?
She said nothing
He smiled, the obvious gesture of 'know'
"Your sorrow isn't lost on me...its the 'amber' in the amber of your eyes...now lets see to that 'lifes well' of ours..."



***********************************************************************************

The sweet escape to the coast of Amalfi Italy,

where the shoreline is kissed by the ocean
By the tides pull it brings the lovers together in one final moment
"So I come here, for loves death...at last...wrapped in the security of your arms"
"but have you truly lived Sawyer?" he asked
"I have...I'm going to miss this, miss you with me"
"Isn't that lyrics taken boldly from a song playing in the jeep on the way over here?" she grinned broadly
"so it is"
"you make me laugh honey"
"ah, I do what I can babe"
"what will you miss the most?"
"pizza, swimming topless, nights by the fireplace...you mostly"
"you don't have to go...surely there must be a way..."
"there isn't...and even if there were, I'm not so certain that I'd extend myself any further...no, for me? this has been enough. I've loved completely, laughed until I cried...ate far too much ice cream
-and don't forget how I finally found a wine that my palate simply adores"
"would you be saying all of this if I were Ian McShane?"
"would you be wearing a black Armani suit, donning Burberry colonge?"
"most certainly"
"then surely you'd bring me back to beautiful, back to life"
"you are beautiful in my eyes"
"is that a fact?"
"it is...though I'm in severe trouble if you find Ian McShane so handsome"
"dead sexy"
"you're killing me here"
"ah its his accent and the swagger...who could resist?"
"I could!"
"trust me, you're not his type"
"I should hope not"
"Sawyer...will you ever....will you ever love again?"
"When I pass through the gates? Yes, I have quite a large heart, plenty of room...yes, I do believe that I will...well once the memory of you ceases to pain me, and I look back on our time with joy"
"as long as you refuse to forget me"
"how could I ever forget you?"
"I don't know, I just don't want to be forgotten"
"baby...you're unforgettable"
"I truly loved you Saint"
"I was hardly a Saint"
"this is truth" she laughed at his brashness "I couldn't have asked for a more fullfilling love, this is my truth"
"what will you leave with no regret?"
"all of the hateful words...the things that I didn't try, or say"
"not too much of those I hope"
"no, I resolved to speak my mind and I did what I could"
"the silence....with words from you no longer, well, its going to be deafening"
"I'm sorry"
"don't be- don't be sorry for anything, not for one singular moment spent between us" she took his hand into hers and squeezed it three times, the non verbal notion between the couple to silently say 'I love you'
"I won't be"
"you always knew that this would happen didn't you?"
"yes"
"then why did you take pause to love me?"
"because you were worthwhile"
"I wish that I could go with you..."
"life is choices, more than anything its not boxes of letters and memories shoved under your bed. Life is for the living ..."
"I'm not dead baby girl"
"nope, just afraid to live"
"Its not that simple"
"never is when it comes to you" he rolled his eyes in mock disgust "so here we are again"
"so we are, though this is the last of all that we were"
"I don't want you to go"
"I have to pass through...you cannot provide me the solice required to remain...here with you"
"Is there nothing that I can say that will turn this around?"
"I've tried my best to afford you chances...you're simply too late and I haven't the glue to fix what is broken inside of you"
"Is it him?" she politely ignored his question "don't do this...theres something to be said for mediocricy"
"its a bog. It floats, eventually dissipating into the surrounding area- natures way I suppose...
and similar to this, our true nature will always call us home"
"and...your home is through those gates"
"it is"
"grass isn't always greener Sawyer"
"no, it clearly isn't, but we all must find our way back home- at one point or another"
"and if you fail? what then?"
"Then I will always know that I made the attempt"
"so you're really going to do this?"
"I am"
"I should be angry"
"But you're not."
"no, I love you far too much for that honey"
"and I you"
"all of your quirks...even the broken glass will seem normal to them...you know?"
"they accept you at home...as is, or so I've heard"
"is that why you venture? to feel normal again?" she giggled "I'll always be myself, and that is far set from the norm"
"Sawyer...I can't go with you...I cannot venture into that realm"
"I know...I'm at peace with that fact"
"I wish you weren't...that you couldn't do this, yet I realize that I do have to let go of you"
he released her hand and pulled her into an extended embrace "I was put on this earth to love you baby girl"
"now who's borrowing from lyrics? I wish..."
"no, no more wishing Sawyer...not for you. This life has died enough times over...now just turn around and go already"
he watched her as she walked away... farther and farther from him...from his life...
The realization of all that he should've done...said...swept over his person...the distance between them grew...as though the coast line was summoning her...spiriting her away from his heart...
and to the wind he spoke "I shall die without her in my life"
when she was almost entirely out of view, he knew that he could not simply stand there and allow this to happen...
Death by heart was NOT an option....so he ran, ran to her as fast as his legs would take him...

well that said, I wish you all a joyous and Happy New Years!
If I could have one wish granted...well maybe I shouldn't say...

From my hand to yours,
Sawyer
Saint Andrews

Wednesday, December 23, 2009

Verba volant, (littera) scripta manet (words fly away, the written (letter) remains


Merry Christmas to all of you, mas gut...
Here's a truth, no one desires to be forgotten at Christmas, no matter the age...
We tell ourselves that its alright...
quantify our actions by remarking that it just a 'hallmark holiday' when in fact it is simply a day of rememberance...
The religious aspects are so vast and deeply personal that this I won't dare mention, suffice to say that this is your one opportunity to extend yourself beyond what your mind dictates.
This is the one time of year that your heart can truly touch another...
So it is in this spirit I tell this tale:

"I took along time to decide what to purchase/give to my love on Christmas...he didn't really celebrate the holiday...didn't want anything...
what could I give that I hadn't already? So I remembered what had compelled me to become friends with him in the first.
He shared a name of a man that I knew as a boy. My first love.
So, after much consideration and self debate I decided that I'd give to him the most treasured piece that I owned, one that had been given to me in my darkest hours...
I wrapped up the precious, flattened silver coin now placed in a lil box for him. Torn I was, thinking of how many times I had held this in my hand, in my very own pocket for security....I rememeberd the story of the coin, so very many years ago...
As friends, falling desperately in love we stood amongst many...placed the bit of silver on the train tracks...waited for the train to pass....all holding hands and wishing together that our futures would all continue with one another to care for...
he handed the hot, flat piece to me and oathed us all to heed the gift of the moment.
For years we'd hand silver pieces between oursleves, during times of trial, and those of sorrow...
But never could I part with the original. It represented that time, that love between us all...
and so, the years passed...
The tradition passed on through so many....
Christmas came...he e mailed me salutations...
no call. didn't stop by.
I had been forgotten. You see I never wanted a gift. I wanted to be remembered...to know that I was loved.
But I wasn't.
I pitched his gift into the bin. Perhaps this wasn't ever meant for anyone afterall...

A knock on the door came, I wiped the tears of frustration from my eyes and wearily answered...
it was a neighbor, she had recieved my mail in her box, so sorry etc, I thanked her politely, wished her a Merry Christmas and closed the door.
A lone Christmas card from England.
I opened it to find a beautiful card, given to me by one of my good friends going through a similiar situation. There, tucked into the fold was a six pence...
a coin from Christmas past sent to Christmas present...
Sent to wish me hope...
I can't express how such a gesture made me feel. I had been remembered afterall!
I didn't have a lil Tim to give a shout at, but I did remember to feed the dog lol
and in truth I gave the coin that had been pitched away to a stranger...who knows? Maybe it'll touch his life the way any kind gesture is sure to do...

Okay then! Whew, that was sad...time to move on and get ourselves happy!
I have 2 writings for you, one is an insert, because I do so enjoy writing them....and the second is a partial opening to Prevenient Grace, but will only show up in the first 12 novels, so look for those!

Take a look at me;
I've become a reflection of the love that you hold for me in your heart
You're as beautiful to me as the thousand or so songs playing repeatedly in my mind
its your music
that is the soundtrack of the very best of my memories

How could you be anything but my love?
Wrapped in the security of my arms you lead me back
home
I'm drunk in the intoxication that is you
take a look at me...so that I might paint this memory,
imprint the picture onto my soul

I cannot stand without you by my side, for its you that is my lifes map
you are the direction
the guiding compass that brings me to life from the death of slumber

Take a look at me
Don't look away...face what stands before you now
the reflection of the purest of loves
for it is in your eyes that I am mirrored
to become what I wass truly destined to be
today, on the morrow
I could be no less than every expectation of the dreams that steal you away from me
with each nights closing

Just look at me
tell me what it is that you see?
Do I reflect the desire in your heart? Am I the man that you kneel and pray for each moons rising?
Prevenient Grace brings me here, to you....
sent here to see the relfection of who I've always been:
yours.


(During a book signing/release party, Austin Texas, the pub 'Fados' hosting)

Sawyer sat near the fireplace laughing, enjoying the moment. I would suppose that unbeknownst to everyone, she was in fact really hurt by the fact that her date for the evening had suddenly declined - stating his usual 'I really don't enjoy crowds'. Forget about the fact that this was a moment to be shared, enjoyed together...but that was who he was, uncaring, unreliable and in all probability unable to realize love with her.
Did she know? Surely, she simply never spoke of it. So she smiled, pretended, she was certainly good at that these days.
Declan McDaniel held no such reservations. He had dreamt about this woman for weeks. Read her books, her intimate blog...no, he'd have her by any means possible.
Wearing a black, well tailored suit the well built Scotsman made his way to where she was sitting. Sawyer didn't readily look up, though the scent of Burberry cologne was gathering her senses...
he cleared his throat, finally bringing her eyes up to his... He's so beautiful she thought...intense sea blue eyes...sandy colored hair, greying at the temples...
"Hi"
He smiled but refused to speak to her in English, rather, he chose German. (translated for you)
"Hello Sawyer. I know that you speak in this, so I choose to utilize this fact so that we may speak in privacy amongst those who would listen and not full comprehend what it is that I say to you now. Sawyer, I have the dreams of Previenent Grace, do you share in this?"
(also in German she replied intently) "yes"
"I'm here to take you home. I understand that you will not readily do so without proof of who I am, so you'll find in the envelope all that I shared with you in my dreams" he promptly removed the white envelope from his suit pocket and handed it to her.
Once opened and quickly read Sawyer understood that this was the man that she had written about, that he not only comprehended the subtext but within himself could have easily narrated it...
"I am a man of great means, so you will have no concerns in regard to these matters, but first you must agree to my conditions: you will leave with me now, tonight. I have no time for folly, nor do I care to prolong what is already known to you and I. Prevenient Grace is a gift not to be triffled with, not by your fears or my concerns.
We are to follow in this guide, am I being perfectly clear to you? do you require me to speak in English?"
"no, go on"
"I understand that you're a priest, and that you'll not simply heed the call"
"No, I wouldn't just"
" I propose that we oath this as you would"
"do you know how?"
"I am a learned man, yes"
Declan promptly took a container of salt stashed in his deep pockets and upon its withdrawl opened it and scattered it around his person, motioning for her to stand up in front of him.
She complied, thereby placing the salt behind her person. Sawyer reached up and began loosening his tie, unbuttoning the first several buttons of his shirt...noticing the tell tale ancient coin dangling from the gold chain...she had seen this before....nightly, in her dreams...Sawyer smiled through her tears of recognition. He aknowledged Sawyers rising emotions whilst then leaning down and grasping the ancient dagger from his brief case. The blade presented itself as jagged, the handle jet black. He handed it to her, bowing his head as he did so.
She accepted, gladly, and also bowed her head to him. For a moment their eyes merely searched one anothers...he drew closer to her and began tenderly unbuttoning her crisp white blouse, partially exposing her laced brassiere...the others attending all turned to bear witness to the specticle that was unfolding just now, before them all...
He allowed himself to smile, just a bit, at his self satisfaction. Sawyer waited patiently for him to complete the task, looking down at his nimble, strong hands. She took the right one into hers, palms up, exposed for all to see gently slicing it open. Quickly releasing his hand she took to his chest, utilizing the daggers razor sharp edge to slice into his flesh, 3" diagonally- a stretch of skin located just above his heart. Declan stood there, stoicly, never flinching or exposing any signs of discomfort.
When it was his turn, with dagger in hand (that she had provided possession of) he preformed the same actions on her person, though astutely choosing her left palm to that of her right, in regard to her dominance over writing preference. The blood from the wound above her left breast began redenning her blouse, much to the horror of the many onlookers....Declan ignored the gasps from the crowd, and simply placed her tiny, bloodied hand onto his open wound, with her mirroring his actions -placing his generous hand over her bleeding wound
"So it is done then"
"So it is" He withdrew a small white linen handkerchief from his breast suit pocket and pressed it gently to her wound, to soak up the excess blood and to spare her expensive blouse any further staining...
He leaned into her person, rather seductively...she clearly held an unspoken trust for the man, he did afterall hold a dagger in his free hand...
"Now there is all but one thing left between us Sawyer..."
this she knew as truth...
"qui tacet consentit"
(silence gives consent)

Well I hope that you enjoyed this week in the world of the not quite a Saint, not quite a sinner, what is my mind lol...
Happy Holidays!

From my hand to yours,
Sawyer
Saint Andrews




















Thursday, December 17, 2009

Verba movent, exempla trahunt (words move people...deeds, not words give the example)


Well with Christmas nearly upon us, its been uber busy...
I've been writing nearly from sun up til I go to sleep...suppose that I had alot to say...
finished 3 chapters this week, alot of work but oh so enjoyable.
At times I wish I had a friendly distraction that held up to the test of time, but apparently that just wasn't in the cards for me this week lol
The work that I did was on the book Gabriels 8 and also Cross Dominance...
2 projects that seemingly call for my attention more so then eating or sleeping...
I'm afraid that like a bottle, I fall into the writing as an outlet...thought about riding horses or getting up and taking a much needed vacation, however there are far too many people requiring what little time that I do have to lend.
You know, thats alright, being needed is wonderful, but wouldn't it be grand to be taken care of as well?
Ah so that was my rant this week...
forgive me this indulgence...everyone needs to throw dirt at the wall once in awhile...don't they?

I saved two bits for you all...the first is just me, late night, unable to find sleep,
the second is an excerpt from Gabriels 8
Enjoy!

There was a time
and what a grand time it was...
when I loved you...as no other
when seeing past my love for you was an impossibilty

I suppose that we all have our time (once) don't we?
you believed that I'd blindly wait
a fool, your fool...
as you squandered the precious time that we were given
wasted on everything but what was important
'was' because time simply ran out...as its known to do

there was a time when seeing you walk through the door caused my heart to leap,
skip a beat, lose time with the rest of my body
I was important then
so special to you
so you said
when you had the time

and now its past
the 'we' that was 'us'
you're back to being 'you' and I am back to being 'me'
both of us
with nothing but time on our hands
hands that used to hold one another...hands that subsequently let go...
there was a time for us
and what a time it was....


(Gabriels 8) Ian Freguson speaking to Sawyer:
"Do I ever cross your mind Sawyer?"
"Sometimes...often"
"and?"
"and what?"
"there you go again, always beginning your sentences with 'and'"
"Ian...why are you here?"
"to bring you home"
"I don't belong to you"
"from the second that I layed my hands upon you, you became mine"
"so says you"
"so I do. Gather your things...oh and by the by? I do realize that your mobile phone works...you aren't fooling anyone by not answering love"
"I'm not your love"
"you are"
"and why should I go anywhere with you?" Ian rolled his eyes "because you're mine. Because you belong to me"
"I'm still-"
"ah yeah, I've heard this one before...repeatedly, you still have feelings for McEwan the wanker...well can he do this?" Ian wrapped his arms around her tiny waist, pressed his broad chest into Sawyers...gently brushing his lips against hers...teasing her her senses until his mouth finally found its rightful place...upon hers...
His kiss melted away most of the misgivings that lingered, the doubts that Sawyer harbored about his emotional convictions "tell me that you want me baby"
"but I'm not sure..."
"I remember the way the way that you taste...the feel of your body...come to me Sawyer...come" Sawyer swayed to the rythym of his warm, pheromonal drenched breath on her neck..."I want to...but-" tears welled up in her amber eyes, searching his for help
"I'll no' have this baby..." Ian tenderly kissed away the salty tears, now steadily streaming down her face...kissing her lightly freckled cheeks as well... he spoke: "I'll naught take no for an answer this time"
"but Ian" she protested weakly
"you and I will never settle for mediocricy, not in this lifetime, not when my heart needs to feel yours beating beneath mine...or on top of mine, depending on the position of our bodies"
she laughed a bit

"I feel lost without you Ian"
Ian flashed that brilliant smile of his, radiant in his confidence
"that and I'm immensely handsome"

"and theres that"
"you're so American"
"and you're so Irish..."
"and, and, and, and just say yes to me...to me... Ian...come into me baby...come into me..."
"I don't know..."
"quit over thinking it"
"will you quit bugging me?"
"no, never"
"ugh.." Ian kissed her quiet...hushing her mouth with his...subsequently scooping her up and into his strong arms "I'm through talking about this with you, now shut that beautiful mouth of yours... well, unless its to moan of course..."
Ian kicked the door in front of him open straight away and carried her gallantly out into the warm summer rain

drenching them both
he happily carried her through the street and back to his cottage
their home
If not just for this moment, she was to be completely his. Inherently Ian knew this truth:
this was his one true love, his life that he was holding in his arms...and he couldn't be more content with that inexplicable fact
for tonight his heart would not be denied its truth
Ian felt complete.

Well I hope that warms your heart, I recieved such a beautiful gift of words yesterday and as a result was inspired to write fairly late...
So thank you, and thank you for following the blog, its wonderful to hear from all of you through the inboxes and e mail. Your input is invaluable!

Vita nonest vivere sed valere vita est
life is more than merely staying alive...

From my hand to yours...
Sawyer
Saint Andrews

Monday, December 14, 2009

Alis volat propris selum proferre alis grave nil (she flies with her own wings towards the light; nothing is to heavy to those who might have wings)




This is my Christmas gift to Marshall Wayne
Its my hope that you all enjoy this lil story...

Marshall and Athena's minds journey
He took her hand into his and motioned for her to lye down next to him on the meadows welcoming wild tundra
"close your eyes" he whispered as he took her hold of her hand ever so tightly...
she blindly followed him into the abyss that was his minds eye...
"here we take the road less traveled...Michael awaits our arrival"
"I'm afraid"
"hold no fear in your heart, I know that I hold none such in mine"
"but Marshall.." Athena tugged at his arm pulling him back if not just a little bit.
"we're going much to far"
"we must follow the path less we fail our own hearts. Let me show you my truth Athena...trust in this, trust in me. I have faith enough for we two..."
"its not that I don't have faith enough Marshall...its my heart. Its been weakened, broken...shattered into a million pieces when I witnessed the life leave the eyes of my son...I'm sorry, I know that its the same for you"
"it is...but that is precisely why I brought you here...to see them for yourself..."
"I know how badly you desire me to see what it is that you do but I'm not so certain..."
"did you or did you not reveal to me that your deepest desire was to die in the arms of one that would love your heart forever?"
She smiled in spite of her obvious misgivings... "yes Marshall, but not exactly today, besides you're a tad bit too young for me"
he laughed and rolled his eyes "I didn't mean me...Athena? you're mind is always in the gutter isn't it?"
"well..."
"just follow me a little bit further, keep hold of my hand..." she complied..albeit very reluctantly until at long last they indeed approached the gates to all that is to be, standing eventually directly at the towering white, beautiful gates...
the right gate lent itself to a slight opening, left ajar to those brave enough to venture in...
an open invitation to the both hurt souls humbled before its immense stature
Athena was taken aback emotionally...losing her son to deaths passing had nearly extinguished her life...a crushing death by sadness had brought her here once before...
yet she preservered because in her mind if Marshall could extend himself far beyond the pain of his own loss well then, so to could she...

In what seemed like both a singular moment and a whole lifetime past, Michael the Arch Angel appeared before the twosome
"so you've come to gather a glimpse, yes?"
Marshall bodly spoke up "we have, and we humbly, most graciously thank you for the opportunity"
"here is my gift to you both"

For Marshall his mind was sent to a football game (University of Texas) A beautiful girl snuggled in a warm blanket next to Marshall, bracing herself from the cold, warmed by Marshalls love...
Sitting by his side, the spirit of Marshalls mother embracing her sons heart as the girl so in love with Marshall spoke these words:

For Athena, her mind was sent into a future , in a cottage, by the sea
there she found herself sitting by a roaring fireplace, securely held by a man clearly, madly in love with her
her sons spirit tightly embracing her heart when the man spoke these very same words to her:

"I could...I could love you
I could fall this very moment...here...with you securely in my arms
for a thousand different reasons I could fall
a thousand different ways
speak a million different words
none nearly defining the intent carried within my heart
I could choose to walk away now, before any chances are taken...
you could run away...dismiss my ambition
seek a path uncommon to me
we two could very well part
or I could allow the words to fall past my lips...
in doing so witness your imminent fall into my arms
moreover
into my life
forever
I could, with ease, seize the possibilities...all of which blaze in your eyes
burn beneath your touch
I could love you
I could...
I do...
I will love you forever
As I have in lifetimes passed"

They Awoke amongst the meadows swaying grasses...
both clearly moved by the emotional awakening that Michael had bestowed upon them...
(Marshall): "Now do you see what it is that binds us together in friendship Athena?"
She glanced over at her much younger, wiser friend "I do, I really do...its the gift of Hope Marshall...thank you"
he smiled knowingly
the both glanced back up at the clouds...
appreciative at Michaels heavenly gift.

Have a blessed and happy Holiday!

From my hand to yours,
Sawyer
Saint Andrews

Thursday, December 10, 2009

Absolutum Dominium (absolute dominion)


"Work far beyond your skill; raise the level of your skill to fullfill the endevour...take the risks... open the gate before you.
know the positive...realize self truth and soar beyond the mundane"
SSA
If you know me pesonally, you probably know that I follow my dreams...this week that led me to focus on a few different projects this week...
one of those was "Gabriels 8" the novel waiting on the back burners for me to finish the sequel to Pater Nostras.
I had to take sometime out however to keep it alive so that when I was able to return to it the content would remain fresh.
Here's an excerpt from Gabriels 8:

Main character, Ian Ferguson from Ireland, has found himself once again with yet another woman (that he is not in love with) fawning over him whilst he believes that he has finally discovered his one, true life mate...as she looks on, he fumbles to do the right thing, attempting to do no harm to anyone...
desperately desiring to look good in her eyes...wishing that the other woman would simply fade away...no harm, no foul...

"Here...I wrote this for you"
and the letter read:
Ashlyn...you're beauty is uncompared...your personality is fun and inviting...but I have to leave this place...I have to find just where it is that I belong...
I cannot remain with you"

"thats it? thats the best that you've got?"
Ashlyn unceremoniously doused Ian Ferguson with her ice cold beer, than promptly took her leave...

Sawyer walked over to the soaking man, handing him some pub napkins....laughing
"you wrote her a dear John note? man that was daft"
Ian sneered and looked up at her
"I was attempting civility here"
"how did that work for ya?"
"you're annoying...you do realize that don't you?"
"Yes, of course I do...and why wouldn't I be? I've been that poor girl once too many times"
"listen...the way that I feel about you...its true...its the truth"
"who's truth Ian? yours? forgive me if I'm having trouble believing you in this"
"Sawyer...I'm here because we need to discuss Gabriel...he believes that-"
"and again, not really caring Ian. I think that you clearly have me confused with someone who cares baby"
"sit your ass down Sawyer, we ARE going to discuss this"
"says you and what army?"
Ian rose from his seat (still wiping the beer from his ruggedly handsome face, politely framed with dirty blonde hair...his hazel eyes glaring steadily at her)
"I said sit down...NOW"
Sawyer smiled, and took the seat next to him, waiting for him to find calm and sit back down as well. The pub patrons all looking on in sudden interest
"well you have the attention of everyone now...so go to it man"
"its Gabriel...he came to me again...we have to find the others...its become imparative...even Grant bloody McEwan"
"I see...not sure that that is his middle name though..."
"no thats wanker"
"funny"
"I can be as you're soon to find out"
"is that a fact?"
"it is..and so much more"
"does that line actually work Ian?" he laughed
"aye, it does...is it working now?"
"no, not really"
"I want to bring you to beautiful"
"and what does that have to do with our mission?"
"so you admit that there is a task at hand then? and why do you begin every bloody response with 'and' ?"
"and there you go correcting me again...not really attractive Ian"

"Do you think me attractive Sawyer?"
"what I think is irrelevent Ian, what I know is"

"which is?"
"That you're no good for me"
"neither is chocolate yet still you indulge"
"hardly the same thing...you still have ale in your hair..." Sawyer leaned over towards his person and rubbed some of the beer out with her hands...lingering a bit...Ian pulled her roughly onto his lap
"you shouldn't do things that would only bring us to the natural fore gone conclusion my love"
"which is?"
"you beneath me my touch...I miss you with me Sawyer"
"we've never been together Ian"
"ah this is not truth...we've been together in many lifetimes over, right now? here and now? well hell, this is a mere formality"
"Says you"
"says I, yes..."
"and what makes me so different from...her?"
"you and I were meant to be together...you could ask Gabriel...I'm more than certain that he'd agree with my surmation"
"oh I'm sure..."
"look at me...Sawyer, don't turn away...look at me..."
She complied, albeit reluctantly...finding the truth in his words locked in his eyes...locked in this telling moment...
"I...I...I can't..I'm still hurt... Grant..."
"Don't ever speak his name aloud to me again..." Ian reached up and pulled her into the kiss that had eluded him until now... he wanted her to feel his heart...the burning need that he felt for her...he tugged at her hand and placed it over his sweater, just beneath his heart pulsated wildly
"you know this is the truth between us...quit fighting me...quit Sawyer..."

Hope you enjoyed...Gabriels 8 is a great tell, well according to yours truly, lol, of a group of people tossed together by destiny
And Gabriel...
He comes to them all in dreams, but to Sawyer he appears as an apiration, though she hasn't not revealed this fact to the others...
For Sawyer always holds to her secrets

Close to the vest, where no one can get close enough to hurt her heart...as did one Grant McEwan...

So lets discuss the glass that continuelly breaks, shatters and explodes around me...
more was boken this week than last...
A large china pitcher flew off of the shelf above the cupboard and flew back up into my eyes, wow that was painful!
I'm beginning to think that I need to wear safety glasses now...lol
wish it wouldn't effect so much, so much of the time...
The e. r. is beginning to greet me at the door by a first name basis...

I couldn't study Latin this week, since I couldn't read until yesterday...
It comes in waves for me
but here lately it comes for me more and more
I wonder why that is...
still I attempt to maintain a sense of humor about the whole thing...

So thats how my week was...I one eyed it for much of the time...I suppose thats the way it goes!

He came to me in a dream last night
citing that mutual respect, trust and attraction calls to those in our truest of dreams...
Absolutum Dominium stands before us all, begging us to rise to the occassion, defeat our deepest fears
to become what we are designed for
in this lifetime
how could we ever deny such a primal need?
And that is why I write
to reach the opening of the gate, and rather then slide on in
I shall open them
unafraid of the challenge of what lyes before me
it is our time to gather and have the conversation between us...

Well until next week...
be strong
live life well
Don't spend your time waiting for things that will never reach their frutition
instead
look to your dreams
know what you know
and reach
let the path unfold...

From my hand to yours...
Sawyer
Saint Andrews


Thursday, December 3, 2009

Pleistocene megafauna, Canis Dirus, Dire wolf


Well what a week of revelations...
I learned alot about how important I am in different peoples lives.
The internal phrase that remains with me is this: "I can't, or I won't"
I have this friend, Marshall...he has this steller view on life, for a young man. I seemingly learn from him rather than the other way around, funny how we effect other peoples lives without ever realizing that isn't it?
I've been woking steadily 13 hour days again...wondering if I'm a suitable match for the world at hand, or perhaps not, perhaps I am merely the Sawyer in my novels just waiting for the time to emerge?
Ah who knows anymore? I sure as heck don't...me not swearing, how amusing yeah?
Well I do possess the capabilty of change...lol
A remark came acrosss my desk..."I never forgot you, you were memorable"
Touching were it not for the fact that I probably was such due to my words, which at the time were in all likelyhood raunchy and unforgiving....

And Robert came to me in a dream...not my editor for those of you who know me well...
He said "girl you came to me broken and you simply didn't fix what was broken..."
Which was a pity, as he is really an attractive man. You think that he could have remarked, wow, I still think that you're beautiful or something wicked awesome...
So having said all of that nonsense, it suddenly occured to me that I really do need to get the glue out of the junk drawer, affectionately refered to as the "no no drawer" because if you asked me if you could go in there to remove something I'd naturally say "no! no! " seeing as how I'd not want to clean up after you once you dug thru all of the junk...
lol
I am tired...can you tell?

Well I did have an amusing antedote come across the wires...
Lets refer to as "The Lord kit" whiskey to drink, a title of Lord, a castle with your families surname...a crest, and no not the toothpaste...
And of course the brogue...
Why not?
wrapped up in a kilt, dagger extra....
It made me laugh, because we tend to package those who surround us...do we not?
we place people of importance in neat lil boxes and shove them under our beds until the need arises
to pluck them out and re-examine their places in our lives...
Never fully comprehending that all of the last time in between
serves no one, whilst serving to harm the others' heart
deep gashing wounds of neglect...
Wow, deep and exhausted... A truth that suits me well enough today...

I'm guilty of such as well...by the by...I try not to be...

So the writing went well...I wrote 2 chapters since the last we spoke...40 pages of solid tell...
it was easy, I felt lost and dove into a place where home is of my making...
Ansten McEwan begins to introduce his family to you, his life unfolds rather naturally.
He is by far one of the most complex individuals thus written about...or maybe this week lol
I'e been writing in the pub again...
love it here
Storms rush into Sawyers life, as she'd tell it...dreams not coming true...
yet she presses on.. why?
because that is who she is...
brave...reckless...still believing that love will wrap its unconditional arms around her...
She poisons Lorcan, King of the vampires, in a unique way, this attributed to her clever thought process and her knowledge of mans inate arrogance...
Once her treachory is discovered, he, rather then beseeching her help for acquistion of the antidote
he rants...
Sawyer simply laughs. She remarks that while she is indeed the daughter of her horrific father, she's so much more than he could ever hope to be...
her father, one of the original leaders of the Dire, Albert Hastings, though murderous, was not she
For Sawyer could do what he and no other before her could do...

I call it the 2 percent factor...
Hence the title "Cross Dominance" a European reference to individuals who are both left and right handed...
Sawyer is the left hand of the Pater Nostras, whereas Ansten rises to become the right hand of the Pater.
Ah! you say...
So much within the tell as I've conitnuelly remarked.
I adore reading a book, setting it down then am left pondering....
Don't you? That is the point of conversation...real conversation that elevates banter into the thread of our woven lives...

I also Introduced a new character 'Robert Hastings' he's actually, in real time, a friend of mine.
He's an assasin...kills with no remorse, no sense of compassion. He spends his time selfishly, never truly comprehending that by taking, and never giving
he is in possession of nothing
and never will be
He 'kills' the love surrounding him by complacent behavior
he allows everyone to leave him
to disengage
never to have faced the words that should be spoken " I am going no where, so don't tag along"
He doesn't fall in love, because in truth that would require the assasin to give of himself
and he cannot...
so he kills
and kills...
until nothing is left.
Don't discourage though, I end his life in the book.
Alright, perhaps I shouldn't have revealed, but there is justice to be had amongst the Dire,
and I felt that even a dark shadow should have light shed upon it
once
at least
and I'm un afraid to do just that...

Yes we're still friends, lol, however I have let go...
reasons, seasons and lifetimes
that is how the people in our lives come to us...

Here now is a request that I am often implored to write...

Its one of the first tells that I ever wrote:
See if you can remember the feeling of when you first read it...

Beneath the white shimmering beams of light streaming effortlessly
onto the gound of night
we danced
this night I danced with the angels
where the clouds lye in peaceful reverence
the deepest respect for their place in nature...
we paused
if not but to hear the thunder in the recess of our minds
only to see you
standing there, stoic
I deamt
the futilty realized, though still...
who was I to know breath of a long lost dream?
the breath of life

Once in a blue moon
I placed your name in a deep purple pouch
if only to kiss the mouth
of the man
whose eyes held the warmth of an angel

You will tell me that love is not something that you could ever believe in;
I respond in kind that I have lost all that I have loved...
And all the while
We danced
because to not dance
is to succumb to despair
to not believe
is to simply notgasp for breath

We danced
together
because love cannot wait
not even for we
your mind cannot give the tell that you will not
it is only your heart that yeilds
in the end...

When your eyes averted
so to did mine
to listen
as we danced, so to did they
the angels
your pause
was merely a non verbal gesture...
for we to hear together their song...
"And they danced...for once in a blue moon true love is found....and we dance in revel...joy of joys that the dream is you..."

he laughed and pulled me closer...
closer to love
closer to him...
and we danced...

From my hand to yours,
Sawyer
Saint Andrews







Friday, November 27, 2009

Audeamus...Auribus teneo lupum "Let us dare...both holding on or letting go could be deadly, I hold a wolf by the ears)


Ex Animo (from the heart)

A very taxing week was this, attempting to write, fomulate thoughts from mind to paper with so much going on ( the holidays)

both great and distracting...

However, I was able to manage another chapter, in 'Cross Dominance'

grateful for that accomplishment. I will reveal this to you: this book is seemingly a far darker work then its prequel...and why not? Didn't you desire to know why these characters acted in the manner that they did?

Ah tis a truth that we all require, by our hearts, the truth of the matter...

The majority of our lives we will never know the answers, but to you, I reveal...

Lol, of course, within the sub text mainly.

Why place a tell within a tell?

Because layering one's words provides the palate with so much more texture...thoughts that will most assuredly linger...

follow me into the recess of the darkest corners of our minds...


Penningtons biological brother has been introduced, Cutter, and he presents the opportunity for the reader to feel the changes that occur whilst becoming lycan, emotionally and physically.

Also there in lyes the disclosure of an older brother, objectively seeing his brothers life from the outside in, subsequently the more personal, subjective discovery that quite possibly he never really held any true understanding of his blood from the begininng...


I enjoy taking this journey right along with you...keep in mind that as you read these passages, I have met almost all of the men that you read of.

Men always remark "We are basic, simple"

Such an understatement in my view. They may be less comlex in the big scheme of things, but in reality its the simplistic approach that does so become brutal in nature to women who need to understand

the 'why'



Because its the holiday, let me leave you with this holiday writing from several years ago...


A Fortiori, with yet stronger reason

The remembrance cometh
check your hands...warriors bound by this nights arrival... sealed with wounds of past
Risen from the mist
amongst the fog, blended into the cycles of survival...
ye, the moment cometh
so shall the calls for gathering are shouted, pitched to the heavens...
come they will
each individual standing motionless in their respective positions...
so rises the Lodge of The Thirteenth lunatation, led on this night, this time, by a man bearing island blood...
bearing the mark...3 points of recognition so ignites all who's memory does so serve them well..
He becomes father to your essence tonight and there after...
He is the seeker of stone with anodized imprints guiding his way...scaping the path before him with beams of bright white light...
He carries the well for the gathering to take place...
The only place that the paths entwing us all will cross...
surface...
Of equal dominance...footing...
equal in passionate spirit
The keeper

And so they dance...and dance they must
Fre..dance they will..
as it was then in their time
spinning, dizzying the participants, so shall it is now...
Quite the quandry when you do not even recollect until the remembrance is swirling around you...
Ponder this well
for the fight begins in the caves of those who came before us
you and I
By the very same luminus that these weary eyes have witnessed in so many lifetimes before

We come together
he is known
he is welcomed
so say we,
The Lodge of The Thirteenth Lunatation
For we are the keepers
we carry that which you cannot
Aquam memento rebus in arduis servare mentem
remember when lifes path is steep
to keep your mind even

Have a great week,
enjoy every moment that you are blessed with

From my hand to yours,
Sawyer
Saint Andrews

Friday, November 20, 2009

Durabis ( you will last)


Memores acti prudentes futuri (mindful of what has been done, aware of what might be)

Words spoken in latin that seemingly sum up this week for me...


This week was a good one in regard to the telling...

I had a tremendous amount of trouble in slumber however

The nightmares that have plagued me since I was 3 are back in their purest, darkest form...

While it is very much truth that it propells the writing, it is nevertheless is a paradox...

How to manage the agressive nature of the bold

death mongers

of the never ceasing want

that they do so possess

can be difficult, if not impossible whilst drifting off into the depth of ones subconscious....

Yet there in lies the paradox....the answers await, though you must endure your deepest, supressed fears...


He comes

He waited, knowing all along that he'd come

He'd lie
he'd find you stolen
change your view as easily as he'd change his mind

and with ease he does this all

for one purpose

the agenda


I've seen him, the witness to his eyes bearing down...I would realize recognition

as would he I

we head to ad meliora (towards better things), this he knows we must

So since I was 3 years of age I knew of him...now I write of he

Writing is the genre where we might both speak of such things and thrive...

In somnis veritas (in dreams there is truth) and so here lately, it all rushes back...

and so to do I fall back with it...


What does that mean for you? Great reading....a beautiful telling of a tale that is a lifetime long in creation...

This week that is what came to me...

Along with some very ugly truths...so sad was I until I began to understand that it is simply the path that I must follow

no one ever remarked that it would be easy

nor entirely full of life


let me leave you with an excerpt from the book "Cross Dominance"

Hope you enjoy!


"Don't force my hand"

"What are you going to do? Chop my head off like your other (late) wives?"

"Right now? Its a definite possibility..."

"Stupid Scotsman to even entertain the thought that you ever could"

"Thats it...Driver turn this limosene around...back to the church"

"No Ansten...Ethan has my promise...its sacred ground"

"You promised, I did no such thing...I wouldn't offer up a promise that I could not possibly keep"

"There will be hell to pay for this"

"you'll do it though....your appetite for my blood is insatiatable" Ansten withdrew the ancient black dagger from his suit pant pocket and promptly sliced his muscular forearm open- the bright red blood rising to the top of the wound then with ease spilling over...

Sawyers insisors extended with immediate need...still she held back the blood lust

"Driver stop at the nearest pharmacy...(now turning his attention back to his beautiful wife) happy now?"

"No..no, I don't want what it is that you do"

"You will. You will soon enough, this I do so promise you my love...soon enough..."


Well that was my week in general...

its now time to light a fire, open some wine, Italian Moscato D'Asti and relax...


No. I did not disregard those of you following the subtext. I thank you quite generously for all of the e mails, I sincerely hope that I am answering your questions well enough...

keep in touch

so for you:

Lupus in fabula, quo fata ferunt. (For) in omnibus requiem quaesivi, et nusquam inveni

speak of the wolf and he will come where to the fates bear us to

For everywhere I have searched for peace

and no where have I found it.

Loss is only as great as the heart loved...


Til next week,

from my hand to yours,

Sawyer

Saint Andrews

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Reviresco (I grow strong again)



So this week was trying at best...
However, did manage to get through it well enough!
Spent sometime at the pub, Fados, listening to the Irishmen tell their stories...amusing and informative...
After a few hours, was able to imitate the telling quite well, if I do say so myself!
Couldn't dance..back hurt far to much, ah but that is quite a grand excuse isn't it? Truth be told I cannot dance. Oh you'll say that I can, 'til you witness the craziness...lol
Loved the phone call that I recieved the very next day from a now sober and remorseful Irishman inquiring as to his actions the night before...worried that he had offended the world at hand...
I had a choice, tell the truth, or lie and grant him a weeks worth of aoplogetic, poetic prose that he'd be ever so inclined to tell the 90 or so persons that he had spoken to...
I told the truth
But only because he sounded so sad...
The Irish are great, they tell you to go to hell and do it in such a way that you can't wait to go...

*Enough of that hey?*

The writing came easily this week, I wrote late at night- windows open, cool breezes, lots of rain to contend with.
Loved the stormy weather, took the jeep and bah haaaad through the flood waters...
Freedom as such warms the soul, reminds us all that we are but a product of our child's heart beating beneath the culluded adult one that we all possess.
So a little fun, alot of jogging and a wee bit of the sauna to inspire the words that would fall from Ansten McEwans lips into his grand love.
And how he loves her truly...
Michael McEwan enters the sequel a much more deep and complex character. Previously, you would have found him a tad bit dry, pompous, and in stark honesty, stuck completely in the past, a past that he seemingly cannot pry himself from. To eradicate this protion of his life, he feels, is to allow the modern way of life to encroach into this one.
This is not something that he will tolerate...not in this lifetime where women are now both decision makers and bread winners...
No, he is of the Dire, and men of the Dire are unilateral decisive forces to be reckoned with, admired and feared...
His dilima becomes his private fear
How is it that he comes to love his cousins wife Sawyer, while married to Ansten McEwans mistress Kelly Sunday?
Ansten possesses both his future and his past...has done so with ease...
But it is surpisingly not Ansten who stands in his way, it is the Pater Nostras himself. One of the most formidable men that the Dire in its entirety has come to know...
And Penington will not have dissention, even from a distant relative.

For Sawyers part, Michael is a difficult man to endure. He bears an uncanny resemblance to Grant McEwan, her lost love...
Yet she is a leader in her own right...
Do you see the paradox faced by Michael? To love such a woman, to care so deeply for another person who represents all that you abhore?
All that you desire to attain in this that you reside with such unabashed ambition?
To surrender to his raw emotions means to betray...
And within the Dire, you do not betray...
You do not betray and survive the pack...

The truth for me this week:
"aut viam inveniam aut faciam"
I will either find a way or make one
For those of you closely following the subtext, I raise my glass to you, its an increasing desire to see it to its fruition in the book Prevenient Grace.
The first reviews coming forth are encouraging, and for this I am grateful.
Its probably my favorite tell...

Well have a wonderful week, live your life with passion.
Love mightily
Laugh
Inspire
Refuse to give in to the dark veil of "can't"

Until next week,
From my hand to yours...
Sawyer
Saint Andrews

Thursday, November 5, 2009

Acta Sanctorum (Deeds of the Saints)


Esse acta sanctorum
Aequam memento rebus in arduis servare mentem
A fortiori
Its been a difficult week, so many ups and so many lows...
Been writing quite a bit however, mostly working on the sequel, which is coming along splendidly...
I believe that the conversations between Pennington and Sawyer, his love, are the most poignant, He is direct in his intent while she is evasive and considerably emotional.
Ansten on the other hand exposes the most emotion that he has to date, when he holds the belief that he could've lost Sawyer due to her more than reckless behavior.
For the first time, though immortal, he feels the tenderness, the frailty of their lives together slipping through his hands.
He unabashedly allows her access to the deepest part of his soul.
For this, Sawyer realizes his unconditional, passionate love.
Because her former mortal life was utterly void and empty of this reassurence (of lifes well), she finds the solice needed to propell her in her current circumstances.
Also wrote some of the prefaces to the chapters, as I am prone to do.
I often do this to express their emotional state...
I think that it brings the reader into their hearts and minds...

Here is an excerpt of one such notation:

Be there when I stumble
when I fall
I'm hurt badly by ommision
What is not being spoken...
Such a brutal fall into the depths
I shudder at death by disregard
even worse
this silence that has gently fallen between us
suddenly
its wicked poison shatters the nights closing with a slow, thought provoking, acidic burn coarsing through our veins
vessels
that once pumped joyous light into our hearts

All that I asked of you
(was) to be merely be there
loves promise was squandered
all lies
promises broken
I never wanted to believe that this was who you really were...
you forgot
about me
I am the forgotten
the fallen

Be there
when I awake
when I am no longer there for you
your reach will come up empty short of lifes breath
We held so much promise
(but) as old love letters clutched
we dissipate into nothing more than ashen reminders of what could have been...

Be there
when I arise
I omit no words, ever
you have all but to look into my eyes
to witness
the reflection
of your fall
into memory

Well until next Thursday, hope you enjoyed the thoughts, although a bit dark, even for me eh?

From my hand to yours,
Sawyer
Saint Andrews

Thursday, October 29, 2009

October 29 2009 Cor Unum (one heart)



Haec ego multis (scribo) sedtibi: satis enin magnum alter alteri theatrum sumus...
Probably my favorite phrase/saying in latin...
It begins the subtext for all of my novels.
In this I am most consistent.

This week sees 2 models flying on over to Maine for a photo shoot, ultimately for the book cover, (Pater Nostras Canis Dirus).
I'll post pictures of their adventures as soon as I have them. Should be interesting I think!
We are hoping for a black and white cover...I had originally hoped for a different appearance, however locating men of such elevated stature who would willingly pose proved to be quite daunting.
A youthful heart, I'm finding, is extremely difficult to find amongst my peers...maybe we all simply choose to forget how to laugh,
how to explore ,
what to do when life throws its curves at us...
We are who we always were, merely wiser (I hope) which is why I wrote the men in all of my novels the way that I did.
I wanted you to witness what could happen if we were released...
suddenly,
to find ourselves,
albeit dealing with impossible odds... as immortals... weighed down both with our mundane daily lives and that of the extraordinary measures needed to be taken to maintain that unique, foreign, standard way of life.
What would you do with all of that newly found freedom?
Would you soar? Would you leave your current life for another?
Would you pursue your deepest darkest needs?
As I ask this, I am fully aware that the mere action of placing pen to paper perpetuates this in my very own life...
So you'd ask of me... just where is it that I do so stand?
I soar.
We only have one shot at this life, sink or swim I can't imagine a life taken with no risks...
This week I was subtly reminded of the frailty of life, perhaps that is what ultimately reminds me to write in the manner in which I do...
I spoke of Pennington. In his circumstances, he found himself entirely lost amongst the mediocrity of the life that he had chosen for himself, until her.
Until she came... he hadn't recognised the fall that he had begun to take... the fall into the black death of boredom.
Within this novel he flies, he witnesses things that he could never have even begun to dream of...
So, I too write to live, albeit somewhat vicariously as of late.
This week I've been working diligently on the sequel, Cross Dominance...
You know its strange... when you leave a novel to its natural completion, you find yourself longing to write a sequel, if not to simply revisit the folks that you've been writing about.
Being a scribe means feeling all that they feel, all of their triumphs, every single failure...

Well, that concludes this weeks updates.
As you can see, I've a tremendous amount clouding my thoughts...
nothing negative mind you, yet none the less, clarity comes and goes when you have so much going on at once!
Someone once remarked that my thought process seems chaotic... hmmm I might just agree with that assessment on this day!
All the best...
From my hand to yours,
Sawyer
Saint Andrews

Thursday, October 22, 2009

Adequatio rei et intelletus (Correspondence of the mind and reality)


Hello...from my mind to yours.
The first novel to arrive into your hands will be "Pater Nostras, Canis Dirus" loosely translated (Our Father, of The Dire Wolf)
It's all to do with Werewolves...not your a-typical ones however...I thought to do what no one had before, define the beasts in such a way that you and I could relate...could romance along side all of the wonderful beings crossing your path, page for page, word for word.
I wanted you to lose your breath as you ran along side theses magnificent beasts...
There has been so many stories told...all of which I adored as a fascinated young girl, which, by the by, I am not far from. Like a great wine, I age ever so fine.
Yes, I did just say that. lol
So I'd like to share with you my thoughts on the novel, and some of the subtext for you who will seek that particular path...
Pennington Hastings, or 'Ethan' as the Sawyer in the book refers to him as, is a bi-product of one man: Declan McDaniels, you can read about him in another upcoming book "Prevenient Grace". Ansten McEwan would be his other half....So enticing was Declan that I divided him into two parts...
Pennington is dark, both emotionally and religiously...yet he finds this breath of light within her...his greatest love...
His Satanic ways though dark, though deadly, are at the least honest and forthright.
The Pagan aspect in this novel is as close to what I'd reveal as possible. I think that one has to tread lightly, not desiring non-degreed younger Pagans to seek the "fast track" as it were. It is in the subtext however, as was taught to me so very many years ago, in Europe. If you are one such individual, than have at it. That type of curiosity deserves the knowledge - but reader beware, these are high ceremonies. None should be trifled with.

As for Penningtons dark sexual appetite...it amazes me still that a man could structure his needs, his desires in such a decadent manner...yet I enjoyed, thoroughly, writing it. The cadence provided me, as I hope it will you, many sleepless nights...
One last word on Pennington: the question that is continually asked of me is how could he live this way?
The simple answer is that this was his way of coping with a very difficult woman. The more complex and accurate answer is that Pennington remained deeply entrenched in his dark beliefs...
In the sequel that follows "Cross Dominance" you, the reader will really begin to understand his personality in depth...

Ansten McEwan. Ah so beautiful to be such a tortured soul...what a unique pleasure to place pen to paper and speak of him...
For this I pictured a brutal, handsome Scotsman...didn't you?

As to why I relieved you of so much description in the book...I felt, I still feel that a reader deserves credit for seeing with intelligence, with imagination.
Why then should I be the one to road block your vision of the picture that I am painting for you? Is it not your own reality that does so shape your reading of the tell?
Do we not all bear witness to the same event yet recount each version selectively?
So it was in that manner in which I wove this tell for you...
Let yourself go and fall into the pages...

And now for the question of the name of Sawyer...
Ah, what can I say? Am I like her? Am I merely apart of her?
I don't have a real answer for you. She is fictitious, in truth, yet I am the one who's breath brought her to life.
Creator, creation. Are they one in the same?
Who can say?
As I read, re read, edit, etc. I, simply put, feel at home.
In the book she is outrageous, yet it is understandable, given her life path thus far.
I implore you to allow her some latitude in this!
How are we to know how any individual will react after having changed so irrevocably?

well, I've taken up a considerable amount of your time...
I will return as more comes to mind...

From my hand to yours,
Sawyer
Saint Andrews