It was pitch black when she woke, her eyes searching the surrounding darkness for any sign of movement. She was dressed in the red dress again, the silky material smooth against her bare skin. She shivered just thinking about how he must have undressed her, his eyes roving over her bare body. Swallowing her fear, she sat up and squinted into the unknown, but it was impossible to see anything. The cold stone floor felt damp beneath her bare feet.
"You are a fetching creature," a man's raspy voice came through the darkness, "and you smell," he inhaled, "divine."
Desperately cringing against the wall behind her, Erin expected that at any second, hands would grab her from the darkness, dragging her kicking and screaming into something terrifying and beyond her control.
"Don't worry, there are bars to separate us. He wouldn't want your life at risk until he's finished with you."
Shuddering, she pulled her feet up and wrapped her arms around her knees.
"You're cold," he paused, "Reach directly to your left. He at least left a blanket."
Erin felt around beside her until her fingers sank into the plush material. She pulled it around her bare arms. She couldn't see her hand in front of her face. How could this guy see anything?
"Who are you?" she asked softly, her voice quivering.
"Everyone asks that question," he responded. "Why does the human mind waste time considering such irrelevant information?"
"You're not the first to occupy that cell," he answered wryly. "And I'm doubting you're the last."
The panic came again and she fought back the tears.
Alone for decades after the death of his wife, Larkin Pearce chooses to mourn her loss in solitude. Closing himself away from the world and only venturing from the safe walls of the plantation home when he can no longer deny his thirst, he yearns for the finality of death that the curse of immortality will not allow.
On a rainy summer night, a car accident brings Erin Reynolds to his door. With his visitor bearing a striking resemblance to his beloved, Larkin soon begins to hear his wife's haunting voice, urging him to fulfill the promise he made to her nearly a century before.
Wouldn't it be the most fantastic thing if you could consciously block your thoughts? Possess the ability to turn them off with the flip of a switch, leaving nothing but empty dark space up there?
The power of the mind...it can make you, or break you.
Our minds can build possibility from improbability, devise intriguing scenarios, transport us to different places and times, reconstruct the past, and imagine the possibilities of the future. There is no end to the list of things we can accomplish in our mind.
Yet for all of the joy the mind can bring, sometimes we're plagued with thoughts we don't understand, thoughts beyond our control. You have to wonder why the mind allots important time and energy to something unexplainable, something unattainable, something keeping you awake at night, and something drifting into your thoughts during the day no matter how often, or how hard you try to beat them down.
Could it be that all of those unexplainable and illogical things are being forced to the front of our minds by our all-knowing subconscious? Does it understand our deepest desires when our conscious mind won't allow it because it doesn't make sense to our rational brain?
"The subconscious mind is a composite of everything one sees, hears and any information the mind collects that it cannot otherwise consciously process to make meaningful sense."
Maybe the explanation doesn't exist, maybe not everything has to make perfect sense.
It's impossible not to wonder.
I am me.
There is no one on this earth like me.
I am unique...my body, my thoughts, and my beliefs.
What I do, I do for me. I don't do it to impress you, compete with you, or to be like you.
When I feel or believe a certain way, I won't be swayed by your opinion, although I will be respectful of yours.
(Unless YOU are disrespectful, and then it's GAME ON)
I will remain true to myself no matter the people or
opinions around me.
I will not do anything that doesn't conform to MY own standards....not yours.
I will not judge you unless your acts directly affect me
or those I love.
(And then it's not so much judging as it is retribution)
I am thoughtful, caring, and loving, but fiercely protective of those who've touched my heart.
I don't hold grudges.
I believe in Karma.
I am me.
Who are you?
I've been thinking a lot lately about how lucky I am to know so many wonderfully supportive people.
When I first began my writing journey, I had no idea what I was doing. (Truthfully, I still don't!)
Breathing life into the characters born of my imagination, the pages began to fill and before I knew it, I had a three hundred and something page manuscript.
Once I figured out what to do with it, then came the hesitation.
What will people think of IT?
What will people think of ME?
Fighting past the fear of the unknown, I nonetheless put my heart and soul out there for the world to see. It was almost as if I willingly lanced my gut wide-open, exposing all of the raw bloody parts.
But, I did it, and every day I am thankful God gave me that push.
Now, three books in 'The Brothers Series' completed, I've learned to accept that my writing will never be good enough for some people. I'm okay with that. I could be the best writer in the world and someone would still find something to criticize. However, this post isn't about those people.
This post is about all of the other people.
The people who've made me smile, made me laugh, and made me grateful for the privilege of knowing them; even if some I know only through email, Facebook, or Twitter.
The people who have written to me with words of encouragement, talked to me about the characters in the books, or given me helpful advice.
To all of these people, I bow humbly before you. There are no words I can use to explain how much I appreciate each and every one of you. By reading my story, it has become your story; by allowing my characters to live in your mind for a little while, you've given them a chance to exist outside of mine and be a vast array of faces much different than the ones I pictured.
Thank you for your encouragement, support, and faith in me.
It means more to me than any of you will ever know.
And because of all of you, I'm not finished.
I'm only warming up.
With Love and Sincere Appreciation,
I haven't updated in a while so I thought I'd let everyone know what's been going on in the world of RC Woods.
I've started writing a screenplay for the story of 'The Brothers Series'. It's much more difficult than I imagined, and nothing at all like writing a book, but I've already committed myself so I will finish it! (Might be 2 years from now, but I WILL finish it!) I have it all pictured in my mind, but squeezing it out of that deep, dark hole into an acceptable format is a completely different story.
Meanwhile, I have started a new story delving into the circumstances of Jeremy's life resulting in his placement with Carol and Victor Mathews. (And ultimately, Shane) It's a bit of a tragic beginning, but I hope it will help explain some things about him. The book will be a stand-alone and will not require prior reading of 'The Brothers Series'. But, it would be a good history lesson for those who've already read the series to find out exactly how the relationship formed between the two men.
I've been thinking of doing something I've never done before..(Hmmmm..... sounds so serious, doesn't it?) When it is finished, I'm thinking of offering a chapter each week FREE on this website. Nothing to download, nothing to buy. I still get to write and you still get to read it....for free.
I'd like to know what you think. Is it a good idea? Is it a bad idea?
What say YOU?
Please shoot me an email!
From time to time, life calls for us to suit up, grab the ol' morning star and broadsword, and storm the castle. Afterwards, as we stand battle-weary and bloody, yet proud of ourselves for a triumphant victory, someone says;
"Really? Man, you suck. You can't even fight your way out of a brown paper bag. How embarrassing for you!"
You're a little confused. Everyone else is excited and happy that you saved the castle and its inhabitants from the Evil Villains, and here in front of you is this individual, telling you that you have failed. (Quite rudely, I might add)
You pull off your armet and plackart, letting the heavy steel armor fall to the ground at your feet while you continue to stare blankly into the face of your critic.
Whoa there, negative Nancy....
With their words whispering in one ear, you thoughtfully begin to scrutinize your battle strategy, attempting to figure out if you've been wrong all along and why anyone would so blatantly attack your good intentions. You consider quitting, hanging up your armor in defeat...giving up.
Meanwhile, in your other ear, you hear the townspeople throwing out ecstatic shouts, praising your worth as a strong and mighty defender. You feel empowered by their shouts of encouragement and the chanting of your name. But even then, you find your mind returning to the haunting voice of one nay-sayer over the encouraging cheers of the crowd.
Then suddenly, a cool uplifting breeze penetrates the gaps in your armor plating and refreshes your spirit. (Among other things, because underneath that layer of steel, you're sweating like a pig) You discover the gusts come from beneath the slow beat of shiny-scaled wings from above, ruffling your hair as the great beast hovers just a few feet from your head.
Monstrous translucent emerald pinions sweep the ground on either side of you and you can feel its fiery breath against the back of your neck. Large plated scales of iridescent greens and blues glitter and sparkle with every movement as the sun reflects across the smooth surface of its massive body.
Your cynic stands petrified before you, mouth agape and frozen in fear as they peer up with wide eyes at the mythical creature hanging suspended in mid-air.
And then unexpectedly, but with considerable eagerness, it lunges... your flailing and screaming critic vanishing within the beast's open jaws. There is an oddly satisfying crunch of bone as they are devoured. Their negativity and derogatory remarks are ground into unidentifiable bites of mush between razor sharp teeth. Finally swallowing what remains of your doom-sayer, a bit of blood dribbles from its lip as it turns its eyes towards you.
You smile and pat its head. "Good job, Dragonowski, good job."
(My dragon has Polish origins)
Your dragon smiles back, nods, winks one plate-sized ruby-red eye in your direction, and flies away.
The moral of the story:
If you believe in your battle, continue to fight with all of your heart and let your dragon take care of the critics.
As the long anticipated movie release draws near, I'm compelled to write something in regards to the negative feedback I've heard and read about the actor chosen to portray Christian Grey in the 'Fifty Shades of Grey' movie.
The one, single most important thing that I can say is this. It doesn't matter who would be chosen to play Christian Grey, there would be someone, somewhere, unhappy about it. Matt Bomer, Charlie Hunnan, ect, ect,...it doesn't matter. When we read a book, any book, our imagination creates the features of the characters based on our own personal preferences. (That's the glory of reading!)
WE ARE ALL DIFFERENT. If every one of us found the same type of person attractive, the entire world would be in chaotic disarray as we scrambled to get our claws into the few out there who actually match our envisioned 'perfect' specimen.
But the truth of it is, Jamie Dornan is in fact, an attractive man.
Does he fit my vision of the oh-so-beautiful and tortured billionaire Christian Grey?
No, not really, but he's growing on me. (You have to admit, he rocks those Calvin Klein underwear!)
Will his lack of living up to my Christian Grey standard stop me from seeing the movie?
Nope, I've already purchased my tickets.
Personally, I'm anxious to see life breathed into these characters; to see the wide range of emotion this story brings out on the screen. (I do adore a good love story...this one just happens to have a Red Room of Pain.) I've discovered that writing a screenplay for a movie is an entirely different animal than writing a book. It will be interesting to see how the scenes transform from page to screen. But, I won't use that as my excuse for wanting to see the movie. I want to see it no matter who they've chosen to play Christian Grey.
My advice to all of those people who are unhappy with the choice of actors is this....Don't see the movie.
It's really just that simple. If it is going to destroy the persona of Christian Grey that E.L. James created in your mind, don't bother.
But let me remind you of one very tiny, but important detail....
He isn't a real man.
"Christian Grey — he isn't a real person. He's a superhero — a myth. He's like Bigfoot! He's unbelievable. He's unattainable. There's no actor in the world who could live up to that." - Jamie Dornan (in that sweet Irish accent)
Agreed, Jamie, agreed.