Applogies and Admonishments

After all of the excitement of yesterday–which involved three hours on the road, two hours of dining, two and a half hours of getting the nails done, and not arriving back to The Burg until about seven-thirty last night, I managed to finish the scene I debuted yesterday morning.  However, after writing eight hundred and sixty-five words this morning, you’re not going to see how that scene finished–after all, I gotta keep some secrets, right?

On the other hand you get to check out my nail porn, which is an OPI gel called "Deutsch You Want Me Baby.".

Though you do get to check out my nail porn, which is an OPI gel called “Deutsch You Want Me Baby.”.  Well, don’t you?

Don’t worry, the excerpt this morning is gonna be a good one.

See, it’s the last scene of Chapter Fourteen, the title of which has already been shown to you in another post.  I may finish up the chapter tonight before getting into my Fear the Walking Dead recap goes down, or I may wait until tomorrow.  Either way, I start up on the next part and the Salem Overnight chapter real soon–Tuesday at the latest, baring something like hospitalization or death.  Keeping my fingers crossed until then.

That brings us to what I’ve done so far this morning.  And . . . well, see for yourself.


(All excerpts from The Foundation Chronicles, Book Two: B For Bewitching, copyright 2015 by Cassidy Frazee)

This close after the completion of dinner the first floor hospital ward was more quiet than usual. Kerry leaned on his cane while standing \next to the hospital privacy curtain. “You ready?”

Annie glanced towards the curtain. “As ready as you.”

“Okay, then—” He unhooked the latch and moved it aside. “After you, Darling.”

“Thank you, my love.” She entered the hospital bay and stood at the foot of the bed while Kerry secured the curtain. Annie waited for him to join her before speaking to the bed’s occupant. “Hello, Emma. How are you feeling?”

Emma sat up in bed, the covers pulled up to her waist, revealing only her lilac-colored pajama top. The casts were off her arms, but her head remained bandaged. “I’m better. At least the room isn’t spinning around when I sit up.”

Kerry nodded. “Yeah, I’ve been there. It’ll probably go away by tomorrow.”

“I hope so.” She offered a weak smile. “I see you’re up and around, though.”

“Yeah, Coraline released me at fifteen, but I’m not exactly ready to go dancing.” He held up his cane for a few seconds. “I’m gonna need this for a couple of days at least, and Annie’s got a jaunt pad for us to use when we head out to Astrophysics tomorrow night—I was told not to walk that far yet.”

“Yeah.” Emma’s smile vanished as she thought about the pain Kerry was likely experiencing. “I’ll probably get the same when I’m released tomorrow.”

All three students stood look at each other for a few seconds. Kerry decides to pick up the conversation. “Erywin said you wanted to see us?”


As some readers have suspected, this is gonna be about Emma swallowing a big heaping of crow that may or may not have flown over from Westeros.  It goes without saying that a whole lot of people blame her for the ending of her particular heat, the hospitalization of two students, and her coven getting jacked in the final standings, and she has one of two choices:  say “Screw you all” and give zero shits about her actions, or shoulder the blame.  And . . .


“Yes.” Emma looked down at her folded hands setting in her lap. “I want to apologize for what happened yesterday.”

Kerry shrugged. “It’s okay—”

“No, it’s not, Kerry. I . . .” He sighed and looked up, shifting her gazes between the couple. “I was upset by what happened Friday, and I let it get to me. I was racing mad at you, and I wasn’t thinking.” She sniffed hard though there weren’t tears in her eyes. “Nurse Coraline told me that if you hadn’t jerked your broom away like you did, you’d have probably speared me and ripped off my arm.”

He rested both hands on his cane. “Yeah. Then they’ve have sent you to New York—”

“Where I would have been most of the week getting it reattached with healing spells. I know: I was told a couple of times.” She sniffed hard again. “Did Professor Sladen tell you how fast we were going?”

“She said I was going about two seventy-five, and you were going about two hundred.” He signed and shifted his weight around. “So our impact speed was about seventy-five kilometers an hour.”

Emma closed her eyes. “Yeah. Pretty fast.”

“Fast enough.”


Things could have been a lot worse:  we could have had detached limbs instead of mere broken ones, and that could have actually led to someone dying before they were rushed off to a hospital in another city–not that dead is always permanent here.  Chances are, however, that the necromancers aren’t getting called out because someone was racing with their head up their ass.  Odds are excellent that if Emma had died at the end of the race, the Guardians would have put their “memory experts” to work, and Emma’s bratty little sister would have found herself in the room she always wanted.

In case you were wondering, Emma was going about one hundred and twenty-five miles an hours–mostly because she was too busy dicking around with Alex–and Kerry was going about one seventy.  Crash and burn indeed.

And this brings us to probably the hardest thing that’s ever happen to my Boulder Ginger:


Annie noticed the slight distress on Kerry’s face. “Do you need to sit?”

“I think so.” As he was turning around Annie levitated one of the chairs from the corner of the bay to him. “Thanks.”

Emma said nothing, watching how effortlessly Annie used simply magic. “You do that so well.”

“It’s pretty common for us these days.” She leaned against the back of Kerry’s chair. “You’ll get there soon.”

“I hope so.” She sighed a couple of times, seeming unsure of what she should say next. “Annie . . . I’m so sorry I’ve acted this way. I’ve disrespected you and pretended to act like you aren’t there.” Emma snorted. “Looking at you both now—really looking at you—I see just how you act as a couple. It’s . . .” Her head bobbed a few times. “Pretty freakin’ incredible.”

“Thank you, Emma.” Annie was surprised to hear Emma admit to something Annie had felt for a while. “I accept your apology.”

A look of relief flowed across Emma’s face. “Thank you. I want you to know nothing like what happened Friday will ever happen again.”

“That’s nice to know.” Annie patted Kerry’s shoulder. “I never feared that Kerry would stray from me, which is why I never said anything.” She tilted her head slightly to the right. “However . . .” Her tone turned flat and cold. “Should this happen again, you and I will have a talk—alone.” Annie’s eyes narrowed. “It won’t be pleasant.”

Emma gulped after feeling Annie’s coldness for the first time. “I can imagine—” She inhaled sharply. “Point taken.”

Annie softened her expression. “As long as you understand.”

“I do.”



“You and I will have a talk—alone.  It won’t be pleasant.”  From time-to-time the question has come up, “Why doesn’t Annie say something?”  Because Annie’s not the sort to toss around warnings.  But a few things have happened.  One, she kicked some ass in a Judgement Trial.  Two, Emma hit on Kerry–again.  Three, Emma Raced While Pissed at Kerry and put them both in the hospital.  As the Bulgarian Buttercup stated, she never worried about Kerry straying–something she told Deanna–but she’s finally reached the point where she’s letting Emma know she’s had enough of her shit.  No screaming, no voice raising, no finger pointing–just that cold stare and that flat voice telling her, “It won’t be pleasant.”  Since Emma has already seen how unpleasant Annie can make a situation when she’s pushed, Emma’s really not eager to bring the Wrath of Annie down upon her ass.

There you are:  enough for today.  there’s more, but I need to have something to post tomorrow, so I’ll save it for then.

Otherwise you guys will get spoiled . . .