Colleen’s 2019 Weekly #Tanka Tuesday #Poetry Challenge No. 120, “Cold & Storm,” #SynonymsOnly


Colleen’s prompt words this week are cold and storm.

I have the perfect passage to share from my current, unedited WIP – Book Two – The Curse of Time, Golden Healer plus a Shadorma.

There is a very helpful post from Colleen on how to write Shadorma’s:



He stands clutching lies,

A tempest,

Shadow man,

My power inflames brightly,

Longing to soar free.


I had a strange feeling that something wasn’t quite right, I couldn’t begin to explain it but I sensed it. The sky hid behind a dark unapproachable veil of deceit. All the clouds had lost their cheerful fluffiness flattening like a pack of shuffled playing cards. A storm battered the sky as loud claps of thunder and heavy raindrops fell.

Half an hour after the storm, Ryder arrived, drenched through.

On the way to mine, he’d obviously been caught in a thunderstorm. I reckon the sky had clouded over about the time he had ventured out and within seconds a very heavy downpour had started. Not satisfied with rain alone loud claps of thunder had followed. The lightning could have hit him but must have opted to barely miss him by inches. When he arrived his clothes were soaked through and his carefully maintained hair was flattened against his head by the force of the rain. Water dripped from his hair and clothing into a growing puddle on the floor to form a strange shadow, a dark jigsaw shape at his feet, which appeared to move with his body.  I stepped back retreating from the threat of whatever this might be.

His usually arresting eyes were reduced to dark stagnant, pools.

He carried a bouquet of sad, tortured lilies. He handed them to me as a peace-offering. Their white flower heads were dripping and sodden.

The wet cuckoo from the play, that’s what I thought Ryder looked like! Could this be a warning, and if it was, would Ryder pay any attention? Somehow I doubted that he would.

‘These are in a bad shape,’ I said, a reluctant response escaping my lips. I longed to slam the door in his face but instead I held the thunder in my heart for later.

I let him in.

‘I’m not feeling too hot myself,’ he replied, that tiny detail was true.

I noticed Shadow watching him with interest, as if he was stalking a drowned shadow bird with weakened defences. Shadow’s whiskers pressed inwards, compressing in thought. He steeled himself, ready to pounce. Ryder saw the challenge, glared at him and uttered this inhuman, strangled noise. Shadow notched up the battle vibe with a ear-piercing hiss. 

Stop that caterwauling,’ I yelled. 

They heard my angry yell and backed off, but both of them were still blazing with an equally matched fury.

Jade heard the rumpus and appeared in a flash, eager to fuss over Ryder.

‘Are you okay?’

On cue he shivered. Shadow stood there trembling.

She asked for a towel and wrapped him in it as if she hoped to cocoon him from the elements. Shadow’s expression suggested that he would have liked the same treatment. Ignoring Shadow’s trembling she asked me for some clothes for Ryder to change into. Ryder disappeared into the bathroom to get changed. Shortly afterwards he came out looking like a new improved version of his usual charismatic self. Ugh, how irritating, somehow he managed to be even more handsome than usual, even though he was wearing unflattering, ill-fitting old clothes. It must have been the sleek, wet look of his hair.  

This wasn’t good. Jade slipped her arm through his and they wandered off to snuggle up on the sofa. Before long he was warmed by her attentions and sprang back to life. He gave me a challenging look. I returned it. In no time at all they were locked in a lingering kiss. I didn’t know where to look. I wondered if he tasted like fag ash. Not because he smoked – no he didn’t need to. From my experience he tasted sour with no effort.

© M J Mallon


To enter Colleen’s weekly poetry challenge here’s the link:

Hope you enjoyed!


Bye for now,






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Colleen’s Weekly #Poetry Challenge # 47 – #Haiku #Tanka #Haibun: Shadow & Light

This is a perfect poetry prompt for me as I love to explore shadows and light in my writing.

Here’s an extract from The Curse of Time – Book 1 – Bloodstone followed by my Tanka.

The evening descended, and darkness filled my room. I couldn’t sleep. I tossed and turned, but the stagnant dead air in the house tightened around my neck choking me. I slipped out of bed and opened a window. It made no difference. Feeling anxious, I noticed a deep sensation of dread forcing its way into my soul.

I often heard strange grumbling voices and laboured breathing coming from the walls of our silent house, speaking in unison, ‘Cursed house, dreadful misfortune.’ Tonight, no difference awaited me. Those weird sounds seemed to reverberate from the cramped attic room at the top of the house, right down to the ground floor. The hexagonal hallway grumbled as I heard six whispered voices that unified into one loud, persistent groan that amplified, filling the hall with the same repeated words.

I wrestled with alternating tiredness and wakefulness, pushing the sounds away, I fell into a deep sleep. I dreamed. A vision formed and I could see the pathway ahead lay deserted, not a soul in sight. The dead of night beckoned, and an eerie silence magnified every rustle and quadrupled every whisper in the breeze. The gentle sound of trickling water soothed my disturbed senses, but I couldn’t find the source. I fought a strange feeling that someone followed me. Yet, when I glanced over my shoulder, no one seemed to be there. No footprints, no churned-up earth, nothing. I walked faster, but my steps lagged, like a clock pendulum moving back and forth on a predetermined journey, yet moving in slow motion.

As my dream continued, the whispering winds grew louder. I forced myself to turn around and confront my growing fear. I saw the shadow of a man, and he was following me. Disconcerted, I tried to run and stumbled; as if this shadowy man’s long limbs were reaching forward to trip me up. Just when I couldn’t take another step, the winds stopped. The shadow revealed itself in a flash of light and vanished. My eyes blinked, captivated by blue-black hair, but I couldn’t see his face. I stood transfixed by a bright light followed by an immediate darkness.

© Marjorie Mallon 2017

Continue reading “Colleen’s Weekly #Poetry Challenge # 47 – #Haiku #Tanka #Haibun: Shadow & Light”

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Blog Battle: Week 18 Theme Dream


Today I’m taking part in Rachael Ritchey’s Blog Battle.

No it isn’t some kind of martial arts challenge it’s a fun writing battle.

Here’s the link to Rachael’s blog to find out more:

The Week 18 Theme is Dream –  this prompt appeals to me so much.

Where would we be if we didn’t dream? A very sad bunch of people I reckon. Sometimes dreams can help us escape from painful realities.

Here’s the rules of the battle:

Date to Post: Tuesday, July 14th, 2015

1.1000 words max
2.fictional tale (or true if you really want)
3.PG (no more than PG-13) Content – let’s keep this family friendly!
4.Your story must contain the word(s) from the theme and/or be centered around the theme in a way that shows it is clearly related
5.Go for the entertainment value!
6.Post your story by Tuesday 11:59 PM PST
7.Use the hashtag #BlogBattle when tweeting your story, put a link back to your #BlogBattle Short Story in the comments section of this page, and/or include a link to this page in your own blog post (it creates a “ping-back” which will alert me and our friends to your #BlogBattle post)
8.Have fun!

Each winner will receive an awesome #BlogBattle Winner Badge to display with their winning story on their webpage.

Here’s my entry for the #Blog Battle.

It’s an excerpt from my manuscript, I hope you enjoy:  

Amelina couldn’t sleep. The stagnant air in the house felt like a tourniquet tightening around her neck choking her. Opening the windows made no difference whatsoever, feeling anxious; a sensation of dread overcame her. She felt as if she was tiptoeing on a floor of delicate eggshells. Strange voices and a laboured breathing came grumbling from the walls of the house, speaking in whispered unison, “Cursed house, Dreadful misfortune.”

Amelina slipped away from the cursed house into a dream. In her dream the pathway lay deserted, not a soul was about. The very dead of night beckoned. An eerie silence magnified every rustle, and quadrupled every whisper, in the breeze. The gentle sound of trickling water did much to sooth Amelina’s disturbed senses, but she had this strange feeling that someone was following her. Yet when she looked over her shoulder no one seemed to be there. No footprints, no churned up earth. Nothing. She tried to walk faster but her steps kept lagging behind, like a broken jigsaw piece, moving forward and back on a predetermined journey.

The whispering winds grew louder, and louder, until she forced herself to turn round to confront her growing fear. The shadow of an invisible man followed close behind her. Disconcerted, she tried to run, but stumbled as if this shadow’s long limbs were tripping her up. Just when she couldn’t take another step further, the howling winds stopped and the shadow vanished.

 With the shadow’s departure, the deep rooted sadness within her soul began to gradually vanish. She breathed in the liberating air, and walked as if this was a path she had taken many times before, but her expressionless face, glassy eyes and outstretched arms suggested that she was in some sort of a trance.

A strange creature appeared his body and features were held together with rotten, matted mud, skin and bones. He said nothing. His presence didn’t frighten Amelina; on the contrary her serene face gave the impression that she was staring at a glowing candle light.

The creature stood motionless. He pointed at the ground.

A tremor shook Amelina’s body, her teeth chattered and her ears rang with the sound of earth cracking below her feet. It seemed as if the whole world was tilting on its axis, and the only way out was via a slide with a beginning but no visible end. As soon as she put a tentative step onto the slide, it was over. No time for fear. Every emotion had compressed into seconds. It had been the ultimate adrenalin rush, blood pounding, heart ripping, ears splitting, and stomach churning.

She came crashing off the slide and landed onto a sparkling stone floor, instead of hurting her it cushioned her landing, like a silky feather down quilt. No longer afraid of the shadows, she felt welcomed.

At home. 

What a magnificent sight. Crystals on the walls of the buried cottage lit up in a myriad of welcoming shades, purple Amethyst, white Quartz, red Jade, blue Topaz, each colour announcing her long overdue welcome. Then as if this was not enough, lights twinkled and burst forth from each crystal in a jubilant display, a veritable firework extravaganza. Amelina sparkled from head to toe, light bounced off the walls of the stone cottage, finding a resting place on her face. She willed this spectacle to carry on, and on, but the glowing display began to taper off. In fact the colours became darker, glimmers of the crystals’ bright lights darkened to a menacing black and then lightened to a grey, washed out colour before turning a muddy brown. She could feel the skin on her face pucker, an orange peel texture stripped of all moisture, her body began to shiver and shake.

In desperation she lifted her head and looked up. All she could see before her was the strange creature; he stood some distance above on the open ground waiting. Waiting for what? To bury or help her? He held a rope ladder of skin and bones, which he began to lever down. She grimaced, but reached out and latched on to it. The creature hoisted her out effortlessly. They stood side by side for a moment. No time remained for them to exchange any words. The ground beneath Amelina’s feet shuddered, and cracked, she stepped back just in time. The creature was sucked into the depths of the earth, extending his arm in warning as he fell. The Cottage grew a distant memory swallowed in its entirety, each stone, pillar, and column buried. The further away it was, the smaller the Cottage had become, until it became no more than a tiny speck of inconsequential dust. An unnatural silence visited the abandoned ground in which the Cottage had been hidden. The mound of unsettled earth closed. The Creature and the Cottage were gone. No signs remained that they had ever been there.

Her body shifted a fraction as she stirred. She opened her eyes. Amelina’s heart fluttered like a caged bird. Then a brooding sense of darkness enveloped her, this blackness settled in her mood, taking centre stage in her thoughts.  She sighed, a resigned note of melancholy.  The disappointment was tangible. She couldn’t believe this strange episode could be so cruel, a dream that had teased her but had felt so real. She shrunk back down into her sheets, collapsing into life’s bittersweet reality.



Bye for now, time for dreaming…

Marje @ Kyrosmagica xx

© Marjorie Mallon 2015 – aka, Kyrosmagica. All Rights Reserved.

Words good or bad, are my very own!

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The 777 Challenge


I’ve been nominated to take part in the 777 Challenge by Candice Coates.

Here’s a link to her awesome blog, do check it out:


Whatever could the 777  be?  It sounds a bit mysterious. Is it some kind of origami challenge?


No it isn’t origami. It is where you share a snippet from one of your recent WIP (Works In Progress.)


The rules are simple:

•Go to page 7 of your WIP (Or an older work that you have done and just love.)
•Scroll down to line 7
•Share the next 7 sentences in a blog post.
•After the excerpt tag 7 other writers to continue the challenge.


Just below the following short description you’ll find my selection from my first manuscript. It is a short excerpt from my fantasy novel set in Cambridge, UK.

Amelina is a young Krystallos, a girl with magical powers awakened by crystals, and art. There are many themes within the story, the main ones being: secrets, magic, deception, hypnotism, attraction, a hidden mystery, and the interplay between darkness and light.


Amelina walked faster, her heart pounded in response trying to match the speed of her footsteps until it felt like it was stepping into a unified bursting point. The sound of their approaching foot-steps just behind her quickened, getting closer and closer.

As soon as they reached the tracks she heard the sound of a train thundering down. It silenced and stopped them all from moving an inch.

The tall boy sniggered, “Saved by the train.”

His friend laughed. The train thundered on.

My Nominees:


I’d recommend that you check out the above blogs they are great!

Thanks for stopping by. Do leave a comment, I’d love to hear from you.


Marje @ Kyrosmagica xx


© Marjorie Mallon 2015 – aka, Kyrosmagica. All Rights Reserved.

Words good or bad, are my very own!


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