First of all, Happy Holidays to those celebrating! Though I haven’t posted of late here, there has been lots going on in my life, both business and personal.

On the biz front, I’ve been doing some work for a few clients through Virtual Genie. I’m also busy re-vamping Celestial Realms which has been on the backburner for some time. Blue Rose Bookstore has been keeping us busy with customer orders and our new custom products available via Zazzle. Feel free to check out our designs – click here!

On the personal front, I’ve been fighting a nasty little cold I caught from my son (who should be getting a place with his buddies soon. yay!). Not to mention fighting it while working up at Disney with hubby. *blech* But we got back home safely and I had a few days in bed to recuperate and rest, watching football and NetFlix movies. I figure another day or two should put me back to full health. Oh! And my torn arm muscle is almost 100% healed so I’ll be getting back to working out. I definitely miss my workouts! And I’ll be tickled pink to lose the pounds I’ve gained in the past few months *groan*. Hopefully, no more injuries will interfere with my weight loss plans which have been so sidetracked.

For a while I was pretty busy with a new neighborhood, the Caribbean, over in AncientWorlds. Something I’ve got to get back to and finish up. Next on the list is designing and finishing the Boriken hood. ImagineDome is still providing fantasy lit info as I can get around to posting it.

Our old car about bit the dust, so we had to spend lots of time looking for a replacement. So far, we’re very happy with our Suzuki XL-7!

The holiday madness hasn’t hit too badly here, but then most of the family isn’t located nearby. Our baby Christmas tree is up, new wreath made from Michael’s items is out front, purple lights up outside around the front door, and a few decorations around the house. Not too much, but enough to spur a bit of the old holiday feeling.

Lastly, I hope to get back to my writing and finishing my cross-stitch project now that things are pretty much set for the holidays and I’m caught up from being out of town. As always, there’s something going on or planned for the near future to keep me busy and creative. *grin*

Enjoy the holidays, spread joy, share love….and be at peace within!

Daphne Cochran-Shapiro is an Author & Poet, Designer & Crafter, and Entrepreneur who specializes in working with folks needing design assistance. My goal is to empower you to be the best you can be in ALL your endeavors. I invite you to browse my sites and share your comments on my works!

Her long black hair danced in the summer winds, but all her emanations were winter incarnate. I shivered, both fascinated and repelled. This nameless girl was a new student at the boarding school my family had exiled me to. It was only happenstance that we encountered each other at that moment. Or was it?

She stood before me, like a queen, cold and dire. But her eyes….her eyes…. My bones melted into nothing, and I knew this girl could demand of me anything she so desired. A wrench of will to look away. And the pain of that tore my heart. I looked to see if there was another soul upon the steps of the school library. One glance showed me we were alone.

One imperious queen, one shivering child.

Her hand beckoned me towards her side, but how her eyes drew me. There are no words to encompass such delicious fear and desire.

We began to walk towards the gardens at the side of the school. My blood ran as cold as her hand, which reached to hold mine with utmost dominion.

I recall questioning her, hesitant words dropping from my lips. She would only say, with her onyx eyes wavering between scorn and passion, “You are mine now.”

A heady terror. It engulfed me so entirely I almost wrenched my hand from her’s to flee. She seemed to sense that terror, whereupon a calm would fill me, as completely as the terror had.

Reaching a small grove, she turned towards me, my terror blooming again so that I almost fell at her feet in anguish.

She reached for me and held my shuddering body close. No warmth. Only the terror and the desire for something beyond my reach. With one firm move she slid her lips upon my neck and bit hard, deep. I cried out in pain! But there was no escape. Then, or now.

That day I died. That day I felt the curse of the Dark Lady descending upon me, as I died, and yet was reborn. Into what I could only speculate. Months would pass as I came to understand what I had been transformed into….a vampire. The Undead. A cursed being of deadly desire.

Oh, Mother! You would weep tears of horror, loss and despair if you knew what I have become!

A hundred years I have been this creature of blood-death. I am damned. The thirst for blood has doomed me to this life. My Maker, may she be cursed beyond eternity!, has chosen me to follow her path. I am her heir….but, I am nothing. Nothing of the Light. Nothing of the Divine. Nothing of Love. My heart is icen granite. My only comforts are blood, dark nights, dreams of life that bear no fruit.

And yet….and yet! Hope remains that one day this burdensome curse will be lifted from my soul. Till then I pray to the Dark Lady to gift me my freedom. Dare you wonder that I pray? Me, a vampire? With my kiss of death upon you, you will wonder no longer. You may pray, simply, to die.

Immortal. Broken and bound. Blood, the binding.

I decided it was time to find others of my kind. To understand more fully what I am. So many long years I searched, travelling Europe, the Far East, even unto the Americas. The trail of bodies behind me were a testament to hunger and hatred, dread and desire, pain and passion. Of myself. Of the mortals I drained of blood to satiate my desire. Of my Maker. (But, of her, I will speak no more.)

I found them when I returned to Europe, even more cold and despairing than before. Discovered them at a most miserable and dank place called Drakesheath Hall. Whether I will learn anything of import is still to be seen. The hope remains, damned or redeemed. One body to die in agonized terror, one despairing wail to echo into the shadows of the night. I pray I will find answers at Drakesheath Hall.

~from a roleplay at AncientWorlds

Daphne Cochran-Shapiro is an Author & Poet, Designer & Crafter, and Entrepreneur who specializes in working with folks needing design assistance. My goal is to empower you to be the best you can be in ALL your endeavors. I invite you to browse my sites and share your comments on my works!

*a knock on the door startles Rhea and she drops her powder compact*

Dahling! What a fright you gave me! But don’t fret, my makeup always looks perfect no matter what happens. Please have a seat, and let me take a look at you. Hmmm….yes, you will do just fine, though I might do a touch-over or two here and there.

Now–I see you have a curious glint in your once-jaded eyes. Who wouldn’t be a bit jaded after visiting with Brother Oceanus? *chuckles* Let me explain a few things to you to satisfy that curiosity.

I happen to be the goddess Rhea, the “mother of the gods”. Not all of them, to be sure. But quite a few, which would rank me up there maternal-wise with that vixen Nyx and that Pollyana-ish Tethys. The Greeks finally decided I was the mother of the Olympians. I didn’t live with them, however, given that I’ve got this plush condo up here. Shhh, don’t ask where “here” is, sweetling. A diva must keep some secrets! I’m also considered to be a goddess of ease and comfort. Isn’t that just adorable?

My spouse is Cronus, whom you’ll be visiting next. My brood of children include Zeus, Poseidon, Hades, Hera, Demeter, and Hestia (Zeus had a tendency to want to swallow them knowing that it would be “off with his head!” by one of his offspring, so I sneakily hooked up with Mummy and Daddy to save at least our cute baby by hiding him in a cave). Cronus and I ruled as King and Queen during the Golden Age. I wear this lovely gold bracelet for sentimental reasons to remember that era.

Most depictions of me show me on my throne, with my pet lions nearby or even riding around on my decked-out starry chariot drawn by my handsome kitties. As usual, they tried to pin what’s-her-name?, oh yes, Cybele, on me. *delicate snort* Those demmed Romans! See that picture? That’s not Cybele no matter what they say! *humph*

I was first worshipped in Crete–my temple priests and priestesses were such wonderful devotees! I can still hear their supplications ringing in my ears! Just listen to this Orphic hymn:

“To Rhea, Fumigation from Aromatics. Illustrious Rhea, to my prayer incline, daughter of various-formed Protogonos divine, who drivest thy sacred car with speed along, drawn by fierce lions, terrible and strong. Mother of Zeus, whose mighty arm can wield the avenging bolt and shake the dreaded shield. Brass-sounding, honoured, Kronos’ blessed queen, drum-beating, fury-loving, of a splendid mien. Thou joyest in mountains and tumultuous fight, and mankind’s horrid howlings thee delight. War’s parent, mighty, of majestic frame, deceitful saviour, liberating dame. Mother of Gods and Men, who from Gaia (Earth) and spacious Ouranos (Heaven) derives her glorious birth. The ethereal gales, the deeply spreading sea, Goddess, aerial-formed, proceed from thee. Come, pleased with wanderings, blessed and divine, with peace attended on our labours shine; bring rich abundance; and, wherever found, drive dire disease to earth’s remotest bound.” *happy sigh*

*Rhea glances in her gilded mirror* Well, my dahling, I must get back to finishing my face and then I must get a manicure. Cronus and I have a date this evening over at the Titanium Club, the most posh club in the heavens. And I still have to figure out what to wear. This ole thing will never do (I wore it last year to the Annual Titans Fund Ball). I’ve also got to remember to feed my lions soon; they get cranky and refuse to purr when they don’t get their Lion Chow.

Be well, and enjoy your visit with Cronus. Please tell him not to be late!

Start the full tour – HERE!

{for AncientWorlds’ annual GoldFest 2008}

Daphne Cochran-Shapiro is an Author & Poet, Designer & Crafter, and Entrepreneur who specializes in working with folks needing design assistance. My goal is to empower you to be the best you can be in ALL your endeavors. I invite you to browse my sites and share your comments on my works!

Arianrhod

Arianrhod would not speak to anyone in her household for three days. She roamed the halls and wide balconies of her caer with a stern look which clearly showed that anyone who spoke to her would be harshly dealt with. The servants hid or ran whenever they saw her. Experience had taught them the folly of being near her when she was in a such a mood. Gwen, Maelen and Elen, her sisters, also had the terrifying experience of being on Arianrhod’s wrong side. Yet, they loved her; so they followed her with their eyes, worrying their concern between them with quiet nods and raised eyebrows.

What none knew, what she kept from them, was the disturbing nature of her dreams of late. For under moonlight and starlight, while she slept in her private chambers, the Goddess was calling her. As the night hours passed, she struggled and battled in sleep, feeling as a wave pounded upon the rough rocks. Sun’s rise found her awake but limp with exhaustion and furious at the call that she fought nightly with all her might.

She would not go to Avalon! It served no purpose that she could encompass. Whyever would the Goddess call her there? Did she not have her own caer to mind, her own peoples whom depended on her, witless sisters who were without any ability to make sound decisions? Those simple priestesses of Avalon could teach her nothing she did not already know. As a child, her mother and father had schooled her thoroughly more than just in the ways of Avalon; they had taught her all they knew of the Mysteries.

Arianrhod stormed out to her private balcony and took in deep breaths of the salt air; she tried to calm herself, rubbing her face to ease the stiff muscles. It seemed ages since she had smiled. The sea below was rising swiftly with the incoming tide. Froths of spray and foam mingled with the winds; rainbows danced in and out of the sunlight. She sighed tiredly. It was so achingly beautiful she did not want to leave. But as the tide was relentless in its force so was the Goddess. And Arianrhod knew she no longer had the strength to fight the tide, to deny the call. She glanced at the skies above– gray eyes reflecting the clouds, her face settling into acceptance. Her hands moved restlessly in a gesture between entreaty and reverence. Her head bowed and she softly murmured an answer to the Goddess, “I will go, my Lady.”

One last look at her beloved sea, and Arianrhod turned quickly to make her way to the library where her sisters sat, giggling amongst themselves, embroidery dropped and forgotten. The moment they saw Arianrhod enter their giggling spluttered into shocked silence.

“I’m leaving for Avalon in the morning,” Arianrhod stated flatly, staring at them without a flicker of expression upon her face. “Gwen, you will oversee the caer while I am away. Elen, Maelen — assist as needed and as you can. Have the stable boy ready my horse at dawn. I ride out at first light.”

Turning with no further word, she made her way to her rooms to begin her preparations for the journey to Avalon.

~from a roleplay at AncientWorlds

Daphne Cochran-Shapiro is an Author & Poet, Designer & Crafter, and Entrepreneur who specializes in working with folks needing design assistance. My goal is to empower you to be the best you can be in ALL your endeavors. I invite you to browse my sites and share your comments on my works!

Nadira

The day’s beginning had not been promising. Rainclouds raised thunderous frowns upon this cursed land that Nadira had come to. Rain, rain and more vile rain. Would the warming sun never shine again? A glance at the sky told her that the time would not be soon for such needed relief. A gust of wind blew across her, cold and damp. She shivered at its uncaring touch.

Yet, she could not help but think that the very earth itself wept for her dead master, wept as she herself wept nightly for his loss. Her sorrow was barely contained behind the floodgates of her willpower. The sorrow was as deep as the passion she had shared with her master. At any moment it could break through to overwhelm her fully. It was all too much to think on a moment longer, so she bolstered herself and pushed the sorrow into the shadowed recesses of her mind. Dragging Shani behind her, she pressed her way forward through the swirling crowds of Camulodunum where she had come to mend the broken life she was suddenly heir to.

“Shani!”, she called out in her rich alto voice, “Move swiftly now, girl! We wouldn’t want to show up looking like ragged street cats. That would not do for a first impression. Especially in this business. First class, first rate! Thus is our reputation and honor upheld.”

She thought to herself about what she was walking into. The unknowns. The uncertainties. The strangeness. It was not a situation she could avoid. Her master, lying upon his bed, moving relentlessly into death, had instructed her to come here; she must make her new abode with this foreign Mistress. Beloved! The lorn cry echoed silent within. Must I? A slight shake of her head to again hold back that flood. Not now. Not now.

Ahead, Nadira could see the building she had been traveling to for weeks. It did not look to be so grand, she thought sourly, though I should not discount it so easily. Once within, perhaps, it will prove its merits so highly boasted of by her master; there would be comfort and safety, and even maybe friendship.

“There, Shani. See it close before us? That is our new home, the gods above willing. Keep to your place and obey.”

The women made their way to the door, both slightly out of breath from their long walk.

Nadira ran her slim hands down the front of her gown to straighten it, lightly smoothed back her dark hair, painted a smile upon her lips and knocked on the door three times.

In her mind she heard her master’s weakened voice, “Go to Morga, pet. Do not fear. Be brave and strong, my lovely one. I will wait for you in another time, another place.”

From within, footsteps approached the door.

~from a roleplay, long ago, in West of Eden’s G-Spot at AncientWorlds…..loads of fun to write this character!

Daphne Cochran-Shapiro is an Author & Poet, Designer & Crafter, and Entrepreneur who specializes in working with folks needing design assistance. My goal is to empower you to be the best you can be in ALL your endeavors. I invite you to browse my sites and share your comments on my works!