Quote of the Moment

"I'm half living my life between reality and fantasy at all times." - Lady Gaga
Showing posts with label pain. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pain. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 30, 2025

Intricate Agony - Excerpt

It's release day for my next Fortunes of Fate title! Intricate Agony is the 8th story in the series. And this one takes place on Earth, though you'll see a handful of familiar faces from previous titles.

You can purchase a copy of the ebook on all major online retailers. Books2Read will direct you to your retailer of choice, but if you want direct links to the bigger stores, here you go: Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Google, and Apple. So, how does this story fit into the tapestry of Fate? An excerpt is below, but read the whole tale to find out!

The shadow in the corner quivered, and familiar prickles of pain cascaded across Lucas’s skin. A yelp snagged in his throat. Don’t react, or I’ll never escape.

Dr. Kimberly glanced over her left shoulder, the end of her pen pressed against her bottom lip. “Do you see a creature in the corner?”

This psychiatrist had good intentions, hoping to ease his affliction. But like many others before her, she was failing.

His sole means of relief hid in a desk on the third floor of his house, not here in the Fortune Psychiatric Center. “No. Just the light filtering through the blinds.” Steady and calm voice, disguising the agony building inside him.

Mocking his lie, the shadow detached from the corner and oozed across the floor. It wound its way toward Dr. Kimberly’s chair, threatening to consume her in a single gulp.

Or at least that was how it appeared to Lucas. An empty threat, though. The monsters preferred to remain hallucinations, which was what his visions had been diagnosed as. They aimed to keep themselves secret to all but him.

A throbbing pulsed behind his eyes, then dripped down the back of his neck, heightening his misery. The professionals labeled this psychogenic pain. Various medications they’d prescribed him did nothing to dull it, though. Nor had physical therapy, changing his diet, or intense psychotherapy.

Well, Dr. Kimberly assumed that last one had worked. “Still no pain over these last couple weeks?”

The meditation techniques she’d taught him granted him the ability to conceal his torment. “None.” And his lying skills had improved while trapped in this facility – a tortuously long three months.

Yet he yearned to twist and turn, voicing his misery. As well as take a needle to his skin, adding to the intricate design on his chest. Appear cured, and they’ll release me.

When his father Lester Kline V had been alive, he hired the best therapists to help his son, but never admitted him into an institution.

A year ago, though, his dad had suffered a fatal heart attack while working late at the law firm. His assistant had found him in the morning, dead.

The shadow jumped and jittered, as if laughing at Lucas’s reflections. Heart attack in a healthy, fit forty-year-old? Yeah, right.

Lucas suspected the true, more sinister cause of death swirled around Dr. Kimberly’s feet. It taunted him, lighting up his nerves.

He’d never told a soul about his hunch. It would have simply turned into another item added to the list that proved his madness.

His stepmother Nadia had admitted him. She perceived him as a nuisance and burden – a fourteen-year-old in the way of her inheriting his father’s wealth.

If he showed improvement, she’d be required to bring him home. Gone were the days of sending children off to an insane asylum for the rest of their lives without question.

So he masked his torment, bottling up his anxiety over the roiling darkness. A normal teenager. Nothing wrong with me.

Dr. Kimberly beamed. “You’ve made excellent progress. I think it’s time for outpatient treatment.”

The exact words he wanted to hear. Freedom.

“If the pain or hallucinations return, though, we’ll admit you again immediately. The pressures of the outside world might cause a relapse, but I have high hopes you’ll do well. Please contact me if you experience a recurrence, or if you develop new symptoms.”

Lucas deflated. Once released, he’d still need to hide his anguish, or Nadia would call the psychiatrist the second she noticed him slip. “Of course, Doctor.” Fooling his stepmother would prove difficult, since she obsessively scrutinized him. Any excuse to get him out of her way.

“Excellent. Pack your things. I’ll contact your mother and schedule your release for tomorrow.” She scribbled on her notepad.

Not my mother.

Mara Kline had died from medical complications the day after he was born. His dad had shared happy stories about his mom, along with albums full of pictures. She’d chosen his name, breaking the long running tradition in the Kline family of the firstborn son inheriting the name of his father.

For ten years, it had been him and his dad. And then Nadia wandered into their lives.

Wretched, gold-digging woman. Unfortunately, she’d fooled Lester Kline, whose heart still ached over the loss of his first wife. He’d yearned to love again, Lucas’s warnings of Nadia’s nefarious intentions falling on deaf ears.

The shadow looped around the legs of Dr. Kimberly’s chair, each twist delivering fresh pangs, like a rusty nail stabbing him repeatedly.

He clenched his teeth, refusing to succumb to the stinging sensation.

Finally, the monster yielded and slithered to its corner, soaking into the wall and disappearing.

His pain faded to an annoying vibration. A level he tolerated easily, as he’d contended with it his whole life. The shadows had initially emerged when he was eleven, so he’d only dealt with them for the past three years.

Lucas relaxed into the couch and smiled. Soon, he’d add to his tattoo and bask in the momentary relief it offered.

No way to evade the shadows’ torment...

A constant undercurrent of pain has weighed down Lucas his entire life. When he turns eleven, shadows only he can see emerge from the darkness, heightening his affliction. Then two years later, his supportive father dies of a heart attack, leaving him with his greedy stepmother.

Nadia desires the fortune her husband left behind, and she’ll do anything to wrest it from Lucas’s hands. Including establishing that her stepson is completely crazy. She aims to declare him mentally unsound, and in turn take full control of his finances.

Fourteen, Lucas has four more years before he escapes from under his stepmother’s thumb. Can he survive that long without proving Nadia right, or will he lose everything his family built, along with his own mind?

Worldhop into the stories of Fate. Each fantastical tale takes place on Earth or Fate, where you’ll find magic, tarot cards, and the three cat sisters woven throughout. Though each adventure stands alone, webs connect these fantasies like an elaborate design. What card illuminates your destiny?

Wednesday, January 16, 2019

1001 Reasons Not To Clean - #46 through #50

Welcome to 1001 Reasons Not to Clean! The main goal of this series is to see if I can actually reach 1001 reasons, 5 reasons at a time (the final post, if I get there, will be 6 reasons). I'm sure I can. It's not just my crazy brain being unrealistic, right? Links to previous posts are below. And feel free to share your excuses, and they might get added to my list (with credit, of course)!

#1 through #5 ~ #6 through #10 ~ #11 through #15 ~ #16 through #20 ~ #21 through #25 ~ #26 through #30 ~ #31 through #35 ~ #36 through #40 ~ #41 through #45

46. Playing Harvest Moon: A New Beginning sounds like such a better use of your time. Who needs to take the time to plant real crops when you can grow fake ones? And pets -- just ignore your actual fuzzballs. Raise pretend cows and chickens instead. (Yes, another game!)

47. Your shoulder and neck are completely knotted, to the point that even if you move an inch, pain shoots down your arm and you yelp. This is a result of holiday stress, and you can't think of any better way to de-stress than to not clean, especially since you're in so much pain.

48. "Mama, mama, mama, mama." That's the call of the Preschooler you're hearing. If she doesn't let you get a thought in edgewise, what makes you think she'll let you get any cleaning done? Why even try?

49. Cramps. Enough said.

50. When you take the time to sort and fold the new clothes the kids got for the holidays, then you head to the basement for just a minute, and come back to find a cat in the middle of all your hard work. Also, she looks as though she's been comfortably laying there for hours when you know its probably only been seconds. Why fight the will of the fuzzballs? (I'm going to fill this list up not only with different games, but also with cats... cats are little life speed bumps -- funny ones, though.)