Jocelyne & Baraqiel part 3

Photo Credit: Photo by Руслан Кальницкий from Pexels

Happy Wednesday! Tomorrow we will be able to view a “strawberry moon”. A strawberry moon is the last full moon of June and the first full moon of summer. The term strawberry moon comes from multiple Indigenous tribes of North America who associated the moon with the ripening of the strawberries.

Here is a heads up that next Wednesday I will be taking a break from the story to give a shout out to some wonderful blogs in the WordPress world that are just too good to miss.

PIcking up where I left off last week, the story continues. Content warning: sexual content

Her dreams were filled with dancing. She was in a beautiful gown dancing at a masque ball. There were people all around, yet their faces were indistinct.  Near a table loaded with beautiful fruits and cheeses stood Esme in a ball gown. She held up a mask covering her eyes with one hand as she chatted with an unrecognizable man. Jocelyne looked around. Across the ball room were several men who seemed as if they were going to approach her and request a dance. A hand on the small of her back made her turn around and she looked up into the face of Baraqiel. Despite the mask he wore she knew the contours of his face so well that she had no doubt that it was him. No longer in a blue robe, he was dressed for the masque, blending in with everyone. He led her to the edge of the floor, and they began to dance. His movements were fluid, balletic. Even more amazing was that as he guided her amongst the other dancers, she felt herself dancing better than she ever had in her life. She was acutely aware of every place that their bodies touched, and she felt the rising heat of desire again. What was it about this man that he had this effect on her? As the throng of dancers about them grew they found themselves pressed tighter together. She felt the warmth of his body along hers and she pressed herself, unnecessarily, harder against him. His body’s reaction was immediate, and she had a self-congratulating moment in her mind. They danced until the end of the song at which point, he led her by her hand outside to a beautiful veranda. Standing behind her he pointed out the stars above, telling her about each constellation. Jocelyne was only half listening; most of her mind was paying attention to the feel of his warm breath on the back of her neck, his hands rubbing up and down her arms to warm her, and the hard press of his arousal on the back of her dress which was too thick and firm to be ignored. She wanted nothing more than to turn around and face him and as she did so, she reached her arms up to pull him down for a kiss.

      The sudden loud snap and crackle of the logs on the fire awoke her. Disoriented, her brain still on the veranda at the masque, it took her several long seconds to realize she was in her bed. Immediately she craned her neck around to see if he had awoken, but he was no longer there. He must not have been gone long-the warm impression on the goose down mattress still retained the shape of his body.  She sat up and looked around.


The yearning in her voice surprised even her. Only the low crackling of the fire responded. The shadows in the corners if the room did not hide him; Baraqiel was gone. But why? Why would he come to lay in her bed and then leave without a word?  Laying back she scooted over to where he had been laying, soaking up the last remnants of his body heat and smelling that unique smell that belonged to him. She was surprised at how disappointed she was that he had gone. She had known him less than a day and here she was missing and desiring him. Despite his protests, she was convinced that this must be something he was doing to her. Closing her eyes, she fell back to sleep until the morning.

      All day she saw clients as was her normal routine. Whilst this had been her life for the past few years, a life that had contented her, now she found it tedious. She wanted to see Baraqiel, and she wanted to see him now. It was all she could do to go through the motions of her readings and make small talk with her clients. The later the hour grew without the appearance of Baraqiel the longer the day seemed. Esme noticed her mood and tried to make her laugh, but Jocelyne remained distracted. She wanted to speak to Esme, to tell her all that had happened, but she was afraid that her friend would think her mad. Or perhaps she would think even worse – that she was some sort of a witch. Already working as a palm reader and fortune teller put her life in danger from those zealots who belonged to The Hammer. The Hammer was a group that retained the fear of the Middle Ages and the Salem witch trials. They believed that anyone who had what they deemed “unnatural knowledge” needed to be killed to protect good Christian society.  Because the most she did was advise women, and because she stayed out of the business of men, she had been left alone during their witch hunts. As much as she trusted Esme, she still was afraid to say anything. As of late Esme had begun attending mass at St. Francis Catholic church more often than usual. Jocelyne still went on Sundays; again, more to appease the neighbors rather than a profound belief of her own. Truth be told, she believed in God, but she wasn’t sure how many rules were from God and how many were from men. She had a hard time believing the book of Isaiah-could God really be as petty and judgmental as to say what women should and should not wear in their hair? She also thought that Genesis gave women a bad reputation what with the eating of the fruit of knowledge. After all, God had told Adam not to eat from the tree before he had even created Eve, so why were women blamed when God had not told Eve? She dared not ask this of the priest as these types of questions could make her a target.

And so it begins…

Photo Credit: Javier Gonzalez/Pexels

Happy Wednesday everyone! I hope you all have had a wonderful week. My daughter graduated from HS – the ceremony was online so it was a bit different. You never realize how used to using the fast forward on your TV remote you have become until you sit listening to the names of 600 students read aloud while staring at your laptop! My daughter is at the beginning of the alphabet so it was a long wait for the finale.

While my daughter is Gen Z, today at the park we were surrounded by Brood X! Brood X is the name for the 17 year cicadas that have come out of the ground now. Not only were they swarming in the bushes and trees, they were crawling through the grass, and there were holes everywhere in the ground from where they had emerged. Many just flew in pointless circles through the air hitting cars, trees, and anyone walking. The noise was amazing (and scary). There were a lot of happy birds swooping down and grabbing a meal.

Enough stalling on my part. As promised, this week I am posting part of Chapter 1 of my book, Baraqiel and Jocelyne. Here we go. Content Warning: Includes sexual content.

Chapter One: The Lightning Strikes

      Baraqiel watched, amused, as Jocelyne took another client into her parlor. Society women were willing to pay a great amount to discover their destiny; who would they wed, how many children, would they be coming into money any time soon? For this they paid Jocelyne handsomely and, to ensure their patronage, she delivered the messages they wished to hear.

      Jocelyne did not have psychic abilities but rather a gift for remembering gossip overheard at the market and the ability to interpret body language. Playing it safe, she also paid a small boy for a little spying outside to gather details regarding her clientele. 

      Her long, dark, hair fell across her face as she leaned forward to see the vision within her large crystal ball. Although the client only saw the reflection of the red jacquard print of the tablecloth in the crystal ball, the woman had no doubt that Jocelyne was seeing exactly what she was describing

      “Yes, yes, Mademoiselle, you will be meeting him soon, this man who will make you his wife. He is a businessman of good repute, from a good family, not shy, but reticent when it comes to dealing with the fairer sex. That is the reason for his having remained a bachelor. Have faith my friend, for you shall meet him before the next full moon.”

      Without losing a beat Jocelyne added

      “The vision is fading, I’m afraid that is all the spirits will reveal today. But no matter, ma chèrie, you have things to do – a pretty new outfit to buy for the ball? Perhaps some indulgences such as a brooch or necklace to offset your bosom? After all, a woman must use all her blessings, n’est ce pas?”

      Baraqiel found himself laughing out loud. Of course, neither Jocelyne nor her client could hear him, for he was one of the Grigori.  Yes, he was a fallen angel, but was he not also one of the Chiefs of Tens? Mortals could see and hear him when he chose. For all these thousands of years he had chosen not to reveal himself. He’d had relationships with women in the past if for no other reason than he was bored. After the deluge, Samyaza, their leader, had forbidden them to pursue the mortal women and for Baraqiel that had not been a sacrifice.

      However, this Jocelyne creature might change that. Her beauty was alluring- but he’d seen other beauties throughout the ages. This attraction was more – it was her sense of humor, her ability to pull off this sham of a business so convincingly, and she was smart. She never said too much, nor did she reveal anything about her life to the townsfolk.

      Jocelyne called to Esme, her maid. They’d lived together so long that Esme was more like a sister at this point. Twenty-four years old, Jocelyne had been living on her own for the past 7. Forced by her father at 16 to marry a man, forty-five years her senior, she had no illusions of romance. Not only did she find him ugly in both his appearance and behavior, he also took her away from her little sister whom she’d adored. She’d fought the marriage every step of the way but the money this suitor was offering won her father over. Luckily for Jocelyne her husband had suffered a heart attack shortly after their wedding day. Having no desire to end her widowhood and shackle herself to another man, she remained single, earning her own money. Esme was the only other person she’d allowed into her private life.

      “Esme, call for Alexander, I need him to check on a few things for me. Tell him I shall pay him well for this”.

      “Ah oui, I shall summon him right away. What are you going to do?”

      Jocelyne turned and said “Today I think I shall do the shopping for us. I need to get out of this house – I could use some sunshine. Perhaps I shall make something special for our dinner.”

      “You’re cooking? You really must be bored. Let me go get the boy” Esme said as she turned and left the room.

She wasn’t sure she heard it at first but then the whisper came again…

       “You don’t need the boy. I can help you. Let me help you, Jocelyne.”

 She jumped to her feet and spun around. No one was in the room with her. Walking to the windows she looked behind the long drapes, but no one was there. She didn’t know what to think. Was she going insane? Had her dalliances with the crystal ball summoned the devil? How did this person, or thing, know her name?? That was the most disconcerting part of it all.

      “Jocelyne, let me help you. Do not be afraid, I mean you no harm.”

 This time the whisper came from just a few feet away.

      “Show yourself!”

Her voice sounded much more confident than she felt. Inside she wanted to collapse. She hoped that nothing would happen but still she held her breath as she waited for a response.

      Slowly, yet at the same time instantaneously, a shimmering appeared across the table from her. As her eyes adjusted, she realized it was a man, a beautiful man. Stunningly handsome with black hair and blue eyes, his cinnamon-colored skin seemed to glow from the inside making him appear almost translucent.  She felt her knees begin to buckle and she sank into the chair she used for her readings. Hoping he wasn’t aware of how scared she was, she tried to play it cool. She also hoped that he could not see how attracted to him she felt. It was almost physical, this desire to go to him.

      “Who are you? And how do you know my name?” She asked the questions without blinking, staring straight at his beautiful face, watching as his full lips broadened into a smile.

      “Jocelyne, I know your name because I have been watching you. As for myself, my name is Baraqiel.”

      “What are you?” She asked the question, worried it might seem rude, yet reminding herself he had just materialized in front of her, so he was most definitely not human.

      “I am called many things. Grigori, Watcher, a Chief of Ten, fallen angel…but no, I am not a demon or some other type of monster. I know you are worrying about that now” he answered. His voice was calming and yet sensual at the same time. She loved the way he had said her name. He had a slight accent, but she could not place it. He walked to the chair at the other end of the table.

      “May I?” he asked. She wondered why he’d asked her permission, for after all, he did not seek her permission to enter her mind and house.

      “Yes, yes please, sit. I’m sorry, you startled me”. Why was she apologizing? He was the one who had arrived without an invitation. And why was she inviting him to sit down? This wasn’t what you were supposed to do when a man just appears out of thin air in your home. Then again, who would know the proper etiquette for this situation? His royal blue robe fluttered slightly as he settled into the chair at the other end. For several moments they just regarded each other. Jocelyne felt her face begin to flush and looked down. Her attraction to him was almost palpable.

“Is this part of being a Watcher – this attraction to you? Do you make women desire you?” The words had flown from her mouth before she’d had time to think.

      Raising an eyebrow, he looked at her with a devilish grin “Do I make women desire me? No, I’m sorry, if you are attracted to me, but that is coming from you, not from me. I merely said that I could help you out, I did not come here to seduce you.”

      Mortified, her face turned crimson, and she felt the heat rising from her neck and up her face. Struggling to hide her embarrassment and to give the impression of nonchalance, she wracked her brain for the proper retort. Finding none, she sat in silence looking at him. Baraqiel merely looked at her with an amused, questioning look- not seeming to be in a hurry to go anywhere.

Intro to Upcoming Story

Photo Credit: Koolshooters/Pexels

Hello again-

In between parenting and schoolwork I’ve been debating on whether to share one story at a time or alternate between books. My stories are fiction novels, not short stories. Therefore, I will share chapters of just one story until it is completed. Alteranting between books could be confusing. The first story will be the one that I finished for NaNoWriMo this past November. However, it has been altered slightly. As I mentioned in the previous post, you need to just put it down on the page and worry about editing later. As I edit I find myself, at times, taking the story in a different direction.

This first book has the working title Jocelyne and Baraqiel. I am still working on the title, perhaps the final iteration will give me a great idea. At this point I have called it Jocelyne and Baraqiel for so long, that it might be stuck with that.

The story involves a woman living in late 19th century New Orleans – this is Jocelyne. She is viewed as somewhat of an outcast due to her desire to remain unmarried and because she is successful at making her own way financially. Her life is turned upside down with the appearance of Baraqiel, one of the Nephilim (he is the 9th watcher and one of the 20 leaders of the 200 strong nephilim mentioned in the Book of Enoch). Jocelyne’s secretive adventures with Baraqiel place her in danger. To share the rest without spoilers I will just say that also in the mix are a werewolf, reincarntation, witch hunters, and a love story that spans centuries. Please be aware that this story does include sexual content.

My intent is to publish every Wednesday. I hope that you will enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it. See you back here next week. For my LGBTQIA+ readers, Happy Pride Month!

Photo Credit: Steve Johnson/Pexels

Time for Change

Photo Credit:Alexas Fotos


Welcome to most, welcome back to a few-

This website had been a hodgepodge of my personal blog combined with blogs from different instructional design courses at grad school. It now has a new look and a new focus. The instructional design blogs remain (and are marked as ID blogs). The new focus is my writing. I will be sharing chapters from books that I have completed (although are they complete? Editing never seems to end and when it is your own work you see even more things you would like to change) as well as others I have been playing with on and off. In addition to sharing my chapters as I complete them, I will also share news, musings, and fun facts that I happen across. Hopefully I will inspire others to share their work with us.

For eleven years I have participated in NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) and, for the first time ever, I won in 2020! For those who don’t know, winning doesn’t mean that I beat anyone other than my own procrastinating tendencies. If you meet the goal of writing 50,000 words during the month of November, you have won. It sounds much easier than it is. One of the great parts of NaNoWriMo is the community – fellow writers meeting up (in pre-Covid times people met locally in coffee shops, libraries, etc. but this past year there were also Zoom meetings) to inspire and cheer each other on. At times you may feel like the only person who hasn’t started (I was busy with school work – I am on working on my doctorate now although not at the dissertation stage yet) and could not start until the second week of November. Panic set in as I saw others posting their milestones of 5,000 and 10,000 words and I had not even started. One thing the years have taught me is that you cannot finish NaNoWriMo if you’re going to get hung up editing everything you have written before moving on. There will be time enough for editing when you finish your 50,000 words. But for the first few years I did not realize that and spent precious time re-writing pages until I realized it was too late to hit my goal.

By committing to sharing my chapters with you, I am pushing myself to commit to writing, and even more importantly, to finishing. I have several stories all without endings because I don’t want an ending that is obvious, but at the same time I don’t want to manufacture an ending to make it a surprise. It needs to flow naturally and yet stay true to my vision. If that makes any sense to you. I hope you enjoy reading my work as much as I enjoy writing it.

You might not write well every day, but you can always edit a bad page. You can’t edit a blank page. – Jodi Picoult