"Welcome to my home," said the spider to the fly.
Hello there pretty people, I'm Ned! Well, sometimes, lol. Actually my real name is Emilie and my penname is Emilie Wings, but my nickname is Ned and thats what most people around here call me, so you pick, whatever you wanna call me I'll respond to. Haha."I don't know if your story is right for us." The agent says, tucking a blond strand of hair behind her ear.
"Think about it this way," I smile a probably to cheerful grin, "Just by saying how young I am could make some great publicity."
The agent nods, face changing slightly. She doesn't want to give away her thoughts, but I smile happily knowing I've already won.
That's actually how my brain works... in dialogue. Oh, right. I don't know why the agent was blond. I just pictured her kinda silvery blond. Shrug, anyway, I know life never works out that way, but a girl can always dream, right?
I, like everyone one on this site, (I hope,) love to write.
It all started when I was really little... well, no, let's go even further back, back to a time when my mother, Melody Hepburn, was really little.
Melody was an odd child. Very creative and very good at drawing.
She used to pretend her plastic horses would come out of her pictures and play with her, she had stories for every one of her toys.
Eventually she started to write these stories down.
When Melody grew up, she married a man, just as creative as herself. He was a musician, and song writer.
Two years after there marriage, they had a child. An wonderful, beautiful, blue eyed baby girl, Emilie.
As Emilie grew up, both Melody, and Brenden, would read to her. Melody made up a story just for her. They called it the Cynthia Story. It was about magic and witchs and wizards and dragons, and giant spiders, and amazing things!
At the age of nine, Emilie finished her first novella. She loved it, but it wasn't perfect. The next one she didn't like so much a scraped after a few pages. The year Emilie turn twelve she had finished three novellas and scrapped millions of ideas. By the forth novella, she decided to write bigger.
Now, Emilie is working on her first novel, and instead of being called Emilie, she's called Ned.
But that's a different story.
So, that's why I love writing so much. It also explains my love of reading, mystical creatures, magic, dark fantasy, horses, AND music
"Good story" I pat the story on the head.
My favorite number under ten is nine, my favorite color is purple or maybe green... or maybe... well I like all colours! lol.
Let's Just Pretend
a novel by Emilie Wings
Maxine Howell lives in Specks, California. A small town where everyone knows everyone and the newspaper reads more like a gossip magazine.
Only a block away from where Max lives is the Merlin House. A mansion that no one has lived in for years and for obvious reason. The place is haunted. Max saw the ghost herself.
When Nicolas Valentine, the new boy, rolls his eyes at the rumors Max tries to bite her tongue. Somehow he convinces her into venturing in to the old house again, and what they find is unbelievable.
Excerpt
Claudia stood with her back to the wall. She checked over her shoulder around the corner and then quickly pulled back.
“I can’t do it,” she said.
“You have to,” I said. “Thats the rule.”
“You first then.” She stepped out of the way.
I gulped, took a deep breath and nodded. I wasn’t scared.
“Fine.” Stepping forward and leaning back against the wall, I peaked around the corner. There it was, the Merlin House. It looked right out of Dracula. Dark stone walls and huge towers topped with Gargoyles. Everyone avoided the place. Obviously, we did.
In a small town, gossip wasn’t hard to come by and Specks wasn’t any different. The town loved to gossip, probably because there was nothing more to do. Merlin House had haunted the town for years. As a child my grandmother had been afraid of the old house. People said that it was haunted, that the ghosts of children wondered the halls. Creepy, yeah? Well I wasn’t scared.
“Go on then.” Claud nudged me forward. I turned to glare at her and then stepped out from behind the wall. I felt very exposed standing there. A crooked path trailed out in front of me. Turning to Claud, I held out my hand.
“Flashlight,” I said. She passed it to me. I turned it on and started down the path. The light helped a little, but not much.
To think, this was all because of a stupid game of Truth or Dare.
Every year Claud threw her annual end of summer slumber party. This year’s had started the same as always, I was first to arrive, Claud wanting me to help her set up. Then once everyone else arrived, we watched a horror movie, ate dinner, then went up stairs.
Eventually, like always the boys had shown up. Thats when we started playing truth or dare. I always picked dare.
Something clattered behind me, I jumped, turning on my heels to see Claud picking up the flashlight she’d just dropped.
“Shit, Claud,” I said.
“Sorry...” She muttered. “I was just thinking that I’d better go with you so I can take your picture, then you take mine.”
I nodded. “Right.”
We made it up to the door in one piece, it was locked but the window beside it was open. I passed Claud my light then crawled in.
The room was huge. A giant chandelier covered in millions of crystals hung from the ceiling.
I opened the door for Claud.
“Max,” Claud squeaked.
“What?” I asked.
Claud pointed. I turned and laughed. “It’s only a painting,” I said. It was a rather creepy painting though. Two little girls and a boy were painted in front, then behind them was what I assumed to be their parents. Only one of the girls was smiling. Everyone else glared out at us.
“It was moving,” Claud said.
I smiled. “Right, well then stand in front of it.”
“What?” Claud asked, shocked. She sounded more then a little scared.
“So I can take your picture,” I said. Claud nodded and stood in front of the painting. She reached into her purse and pulled out her digital camera.
“Smile,” I said. She smiled but it looked like someone had just punched her in the chest or something. A sigh escaped my lips.
“Come on Claudi, it’s not that scary in here,” With one hand, I reached out and tickled her stomach, causing her to laugh.
“Alright, alright.” She pushed me away. She posed and I snapped a few shots.
“Your turn.” She smiled, taking the camera from me.
After a few shots of just me she came to stand beside me, held the camera out and we took a few of us together.
“There,” I said. “I can’t wait to see the look on Troy’s face.”
Claud laughed, and looked back up at the painting. “Max?”
“Yeah?” I asked, tucking the camera back into Claud’s backpack.
“Where’d she go?”
“Hmm?” I looked up at the painting. The family still stood there, glaring down at us but the smiling girl had vanished.
“Oh shit,” I said. Something crashed behind us, followed by a high pitched giggle and we ran for it.
_________________________________________________________________________________
The Author
Hey all you hip chicks and hip cats! (The libraian says that at my school... GAH!)
My name is Sage and I am seventeen years old... and that's about all I feel comfortable giving out on the internet at this point in time :)
I love to write. And sing. And dance. And act. I also live in the T. Dot and Ned is my cousin.... lmao.
Ask that girl, she'll tell you that all I do is sing. It kinda bugs her now and then.
I am constanstly in shows and going to auditons for this and that, so I will try to post as often as I can. :P
There's a lot about me that is cool... at least I hope so. I would love to act for a career.... and I don't think I'm all that bad.... slash maybe one day record a record or something..... Such Dreams we all have..
I love to take pictures, and do concept shoots and stuff like that. If any of you want a book cover or anything like that, just ask ;)
I hope this will be a fun experience being a member of a group blog!
-Sage
Here is a Fairy
Tale, because we love you so much.
The Rose
by
the Grim Brothers
There
was once a poor woman who had two children. The youngest had to go
everyday into the forrest to fetch wood. Once when she had gone a
long way to seek it, a little child, who was quite strong, came and
helped her industriously to pick up the wood and carry it home, and
then before a moment had passed, the child disappeared. The child
told her mother this, but at first she would not believe it. At
length she brought a rose home, and told her mother the beautiful
child had given her this rose, and had told her that when it was in
full bloom, he would return. The mother put the rose in water. One
morning the child could not get out of bed. The mother went to the
bed and found her dead, but looking very happy. One same morning, the
rose was in full bloom.
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