Here I
have a rendition of the dandelion tattoo, a few
"essays" from Rachel's point of view, a short holiday
piece, a timeline,
the 12 days of Pixy Christmas, and finally, the recipe for Trent's
waffles. ;-)
I also
have some publisher-sanctioned wallpapers for
your personal use. Enjoy!
For those
who just have to know. . . . A glimpse of my office. Fellow writer Paige
has mine and a few other well-known authors' snapshots. The
cave
Trent's
a maple candy junky, which I'm afraid to say he got from me. Here's
my recipe. Kim's Maple Candy Recipe
Twin Lakes bridge,
Eden Park, the Mackinaw Bridge, and other "Hollows Hot Spots." I
have a few pictures of these real Cincy and related sites here. |
|

Holly E and I worked up this
rendition of what David's pack tattoo might look like.
Okay, she did all the work, and I just said what I liked and
thought might need tweaking, but hey! I like it!
Holly's at north_h7@hotmail.com if you
want to talk to her about asking her permission to use her
artwork. (And get a high res picture) I'm pretty sure she'll say yes, but it's always
polite, and a kick for the artist, if you ask.
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|
Black Magic Sanction Wallpapers three sizes, one use. (laugh)
Enjoy!
640 X 480 px |
800 X 600 px |
1024 X 768 |
Click on image to get to larger version, then grab for your own use.
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Kim's Maple
Candy Recipe
To me, candy
making is about as close as you can get to earth magic. You put
in a bunch of stuff and get something only if you do it exactly
right, going more by feel than instructions. Otherwise,
you get a sweet mass of nothing that's good only for drizzling
on ice cream. (Which is still pretty good . . .)To me, candy
making is about as close as you can get to earth magic. You put
in a bunch of stuff and get something only if you do it exactly
right, going more by feel than instructions. Otherwise,
you get a sweet mass of nothing that's good only for drizzling
on ice cream. (Which is still pretty good . . .)
4 C Maple Syrup
1 C Whipping Cream
1/2 tsp Rum Extract
1/2 C Butter. Not margarine, real butter.
Heat the maple syrup, cream, and butter in a thick-walled,
medium-sized pan on medium heat, stirring all the time with a
wooden spoon until it starts to boil. (Don't use a metal
spoon, it just doesn't work!) When it starts to boil,
remove the spoon and let it boil the water out until it reaches
245 degrees F. It will boil up high for a few minutes
before it settles, so don't panic. ;-)
While it's boiling off the water, prepare the pan. I don't
have a candy pan, so I make one out of tin foil. Smear a
thin layer of butter on a sheet of tin foil. We're talking
really thin layer, or your candy will be greasy. Then pull
up the sides of the foil to make a pan about 9 X 9. You
can use a greased 9 X 9 pan, but I find it's harder to cut after
you're done.
At 245 degrees, drop in the Rum Extract. It will fizz a
little as the water boils off, and at that point, remove it from
the stove and start stirring. You'll be stirring for about 10-15
minutes, nice and slow. And if you listen, you will be
able to hear the sugar crystals starting to scrape towards the
end. The candy will be very syrupy at this point, and the
closer it gets to being done, the more gloss it will lose.
If you've never made candy before, another way to tell when it's
ready to pour into pans is to dribble some into a glass of cold
water. If you can take that blop of candy and make a ball
ou tof it and have it hold its shape, it's probably done.
Watch the stirring closely at this point. You can hear the
sugar starting to form as you stir. When it starts to
thicken, pour it into the tin foil pan. I usually have
help at this point, cause it smells sooooooo good--one person to
hold the still warm pan, and one to scrape it out. Yeah, I
know, you aren't supposed to scrape candy pans, but if you work
fast, you can get it all out before the sides cool and the candy
sets.
Once the candy is just about set but still moist, pull the sides
of the tinfoil pan down, and with one of those obnoxious kitchen
knives that are too big for any real use, cut it into squares.
This is why I like making my own pan. You can slice right
down and not ruin your 9 X 9.
If it never sets up, pour it back into the original pan and heat
it up again until you can stir it, and try again. Like I
said, it took me eight years to figure out when to pour it out.
But even the failures were yummy. |
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I treated myself to a new office last year.
;-)
Much better than the wall in my
kitchen, and Kate has my back.

And after a little more redecorating, I think I'll
finally call it done!

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|
Trent's waffles
4 egg yolks
1 3/4 cup milk
1/2 cup cooking oil
1 heaping tablespoon of mayonnaise (not
Miracle Whip)
1/8 tsp vanilla
1 3/4 cup all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/8 teaspoon ground allspice
4 tablespoons sugar
4 egg whites
-
Beat egg yolks with fork, then beat in
milk, cooking oil, mayonnaise and vanilla.
-
Mix the dry ingredients and in a second
bowl.
-
Add the egg mixture to the dry
ingredients.
-
Stir until blended but still lumpy, and
set aside.
-
In small bowl, beat egg whites until
stiff peaks form.
-
Fold this into the egg and flour
mixture. Don't over mix, leaving some egg white
intact.
-
Pour batter onto preheated, lightly
greased waffle baker.
Garnish with fresh fruit and maple
syrup.
|
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'Twas the Night of the Solstice
by Kim Harrison
'Twas the
week before Christmas, and up in the Hollows,
Solstice
bonfires were burning, to toast the marshmallows.
The
pixies were snug in their stump, even Jenks,
Who
claimed he was tired, and needed some winks.
So I in
my parka, and Ivy in her boots,
Were
toasting the season, with thirty-year hooch.
When out
in the street, there came such a crash,
I thought
that it had to be 'coons in our trash.
Away to
the gate, I trudged through the snow,
While Ivy
just said, "If it's Kist, say hello."
I lifted
the latch, and peered to the street,
My face
went quite cold. We were in it thigh deep.
'Twas a
demon, who stood in the headlamps quite bright,
With his
coat of green velvet, and his uncommon height.
His eyes,
how they glittered, his teeth how they gnashed,
His
voice, how he bellowed, his tongue, how it lashed.
The
street wasn't holy, so on Big Al came,
As he
bellowed, and shouted, and called me by name.
"Morgan,
you witch. You're a pain in my side.
"Get out
of your church. There's no place to hide!"
Like
hell's fury unleashed, he strode to my door,
Where he
hammered and cursed, like a cheap jilted whore.
But Ivy
and I, we circled round back,
To stand
in the street and prepare for attack.
"You
loser," I shouted. "I'm waiting for you."
And the
demon, he spun, taking on a red hue.
Ivy stood
ready, and I whispered, "Okay . . .
"If he
wants to get rough, I'm ready to play."
With nary
a word, us two girls got to work,
Putting
foot into gut, of the soul-sucking jerk.
I circled
him quick, with a few words of Latin,
While
Ivy distracted him with lots of good wackin'
"Get
back!" I yelled out when my trap was complete,
And Ivy
somersaulted right over the creep.
My circle
sprang up, entrapping him surely,
Al fussed
and he fumed, like a demonic fury.
The
neighbors all cheered, and came out of their
houses,
Where
they'd watched the whole thing, like little house
mouses.
So Ivy
and I, we both bowed real low,
Then
banished Big Al, in an overdone show.
But I
heard Al exclaim, 'ere he poofed from our sight
"You won
this time witch, but I'll get you one night!"
|
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The 12 Days of Pixy Christmas
by Kim Harrison
On the 12 day of Christmas, my true love gave to me . . .
12 Humans Hiding,
11 Tinks a Tinkling
10 Porno flicks
9 Pole Dancers
8 Pixies Partying
7 Karma Sutras
6 Fairies Farting
5 Trolls in Drag
4 Purple Condoms
3 French Ticklers
2 Horny Vamps
And a Sucubus in the Snow
–Kim Harrison Dec 15, 2009
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|
The "essays" were
released with the electronic version of The Good, The Bad, And The
Undead and come under its copyright, but since it's been out for a
while, I'm going to put them here so everyone has a chance to see
them. They are written from Rachel's point of view, and if I work it
right, they will be referred to in future volumes since Captain Edden
edited them without her consent. You can pick the edits out if you
read carefully. (And no, I'm not alluding that the same thing
happened to me!)
Click to
view:
Of
Vampires, Living--and Not So Living
Pixies and
Fairies. Yes, There is a Difference
Time
Line
Of Vampires,
Living—and Not So Living
By
Rachel Morgan
Published in conjunction
with Cincinnati’s FIB Inderland Department;
FIB Inderlander
Handbook, issue 7.23
Even before the Turn, vampires have held a place in literature as
figures of power and terror, lusting after both our blood and
will. They’re capable of horrific actions with no sense of
remorse, instilling humans and Inderlanders alike with a healthy
respect born in fear. But even more dangerous than a hungry
vampire is trying to confront one in ignorance. It is with
this in mind that I agreed to put on paper the distinctions that
separate the big-bad-ugly wannabes from the really
big-bad-uglies. Both can kill you, but if you know their
limits and liabilities, this very powerful, manipulative branch of
the Inderland family can be understood and handled in a successful
manner. And if that fails, shoot 'em until they stop
moving.
Living vampires are either high-blood—vampires conceived within a
living vampire and therefore having an inactive vampire virus fixed
into their fetal genome to modify their development, or
low-blood—humans bitten by an undead and existing in a tenuous,
halfway-turned status. Only an undead vampire has the active
form of the virus that can infect a human. The virus happily
settles itself within cells of the blood-producing bone marrow of
its new host and immediately goes dormant. Very little of the
vampire’s abilities or liabilities are imparted to the hapless
human.
Bitten humans half-turned are at the bottom of the vampiric rung,
constantly currying the favor of their undead sires for a chance to
ingest more of his or her blood in the hopes of achieving a higher
level of vampire characteristics. With their human teeth,
human frailties, and lacking any blood lust but in their
imaginations, they’re little more than a willing source of blood to
the undead and an object of hidden ridicule to the rest of
Inderland.
Low-blood vampires rightly live in fear that the undead who feed on
them will become careless and accidentally kill them, conveniently
forgetting to finish the job and bring them back as an undead.
And whereas a high-blood vampire is born with status that he or she
carries into vampiric death, low-blood vampires must fight for
theirs. They can be very dangerous if they start to
overcompensate, becoming ruthless to measure up to their sire’s
expectations. Just punch them in the gut, and they’ll fall
like any other human.
The other extreme of the vampiric existence are the true
undead. These are the soulless, alluring vampires who exist
only to satisfy their carnal urges, and it’s their incredible
strength coupled with their utter disregard for life that makes them
such a threat. They experience no compassion or empathy, yet
retain all their memories; they remember ties of love, but they
don’t remember why they love. It’s a dead emotion, and
in my limited experience, it brings untold grief to the living they
interact with and once cared for.
The liabilities of the undead are few, and while they have lost
their souls, many don’t consider that a drawback but a
blessing. If sanctified, crosses can inflict real damage on
undead tissue, but it’s a charm that causes the hurt, not a
religious belief. Bringing out a cross will most likely only
irritate a vampire, not get him or her to back down, so have
something more potent to follow it up with.
In theory, the charm to burn undead flesh can be put into any bit of
redwood or silver, but the magic is older than agriculture, and
those that craft the spell—be they human or witch—insist the charm
won’t stick to anything but a cross. Personally, I wouldn’t
trust anything but a sanctified cross to distract a vampire in a
tight situation.
I’ve found that unblessed artifacts of any religion are little more
than a bother, ticking off the undead with the reminder that because
their soul has already moved on, there will be nothing to carry
their awareness to a higher plane when their body fails again.
Undead vampires are intimately aware that if their body dies, not
only will their spark of life cease, but that it will be as if it
had never existed, a thought intolerable to the
immortality-seeking vampires.
It’s with the undead that light becomes a liability. The virus
that allows vampires to continue his or her existence after the loss
of their soul is rendered inactive by light, and they will undergo a
sadly undramatic death. However, if the big-bad-ugly falls to
the ground in anything less than full sunlight, shoot 'em before you
go see if he or she is really down. They’ll move if they’re
still conscious. Trust me on this—damn the paperwork, and just
shoot them. Twice.
Only the undead are capable of bespelling an unwilling person,
luring them into a state of bliss by way of sophisticated
pheromones. This is perhaps the most dangerous aspect of the
undead and should be treated with the utmost caution. Don’t
bother averting your eyes; it won’t help and only pushes a hungry
vampire’s buttons. Fear is a blood aphrodisiac; try not to
make things worse.
Fortunately, unless you have pissed the undead off or are quivering
in terror, they will likely ignore you as a source of blood.
The undead are fastidious in choosing their blood partners and will
generally target living vampires to avoid legal battles with
humans. A word of caution: luring and betraying humans to
their ruin with false promises gives the undead a feeling of lustful
domination that stirs them almost as much as the blood. Try
not to get involved.
The newly undead can be very cruel to those they don’t fear or once
loved, but with time they regain a veneer of morality, most
attaining elegant social skills to beguile and charm. It’s all
the better to eat you with, my dear, so be careful. A good
rule of thumb is the nicer a vampire is, the more depraved he or she
can be.
As their sophistication grows, an undead vampire’s lust for
domination mixes equally with their desire for blood, making the
blood of the betrayed far sweeter than the blood of the merely
stupid. The older the vampire, the longer and more emotionally
devastating the hunt can be on the hunted. The “long hunt” is
a skill that even living vampires unconsciously practice.
Caught between the living and the undead are the high-blood living
vampires, existing in a state of grace most other vampires
envy. They embody the best of both worlds and are the
cherished living children of the undead, both protected and plagued,
loved and abused, warped, manipulated, and coddled by the undead who
hunt and feed upon them.
High-blood living vampires are not bitten but born with the vampire
virus already having molded them into a state of in-between.
As a result, high-blood living vampires possess an increased
strength and reflexes, better hearing, and an incredible sense of
smell all of which fall between normal human and an undead
vampire. Even more telling is that they can bespell the
willing, becoming deadly if their lust for blood overrides their
other emotions.
Fortunately, the blood lust in a living high-blood vampire doesn’t
kick in until puberty, and even though they don’t need blood to
remain sane as the undead do, the dormant virus does impart a
craving for it. You can spot living vampires by their magnetic
personality and their sharp canines, but don’t rely on the teeth as
they can be capped.
Because the virus is fixed into their DNA, living high-blood
vampires are guaranteed to become an undead even if they die with
every last drop of blood in them. If you accidentally kill a
living vampire, be responsible and call an ambulance before the sun
comes up. They have the right to settle their affairs even if
they might want to take you out later. Chances are good that
if you apologize, they may thank you for ending their first
life.
Living vampires possess rank based on bloodlines both living and
dead, sometimes stretching back generations. This gives many
of the more affluent living vampires a “prince in waiting” status
honored by all wise vampires and should be honored by you. A
blood sire often charts the path of his living children with the
careful study of breeding thoroughbreds, so if you insult a living
vampire, you may hear about it from their master. Whether you
agree with their lifestyle or not, you should respect someone who
was around at the signing of the Declaration of
Independence.
Through the generations, living and undead vampires have evolved
many ways to capture and keep a ready supply of companionship and
blood, most of which hinge on pheromones both consciously and
unconsciously emitted. Supporting the pheromones is a
veritable cocktail of neurotransmitters and endorphin-inducing
compounds in the saliva of a vampire. With any bite, the
compounds settle into the tissue surrounding the wound, and when
stimulated, even years later, may cause pain to be recognized as
pleasure. Don’t be fooled. It’s a trap.
With experience, a vampire can sensitize the bite so that they are
the only vampire able to stimulate the scar, effectively preventing
easy poaching from another vampire’s stable. The person is
mentally bound to the vampire and is called a shadow. A shadow
belonging to a living vampire is generally cared for, though there’s
a significant loss of will.
If bitten and left unbound, there’s no dependency upon any
particular vampire and life can soon return to normal.
However, if enough vampire saliva has been introduced into the
wound, the victim is left in a dangerous state where they are highly
susceptible to vampire pheromones without the usual loss of
will. These unbound shadows are almost irresistible to a
vampire’s blood lust, and if not under a strong vampire’s
protection, they’re taken as fair game for any vampire.
Unclaimed shadows have a very short life expectancy, passed from
vampire to vampire until they lose first their individuality and
then their vitality, dying alone and unmourned.
For better or worse, vampires are here, living among us but forever
apart. When on the streets, knowledge is the ultimate weapon,
and it’s up to you to protect yourself from the dangers engendered
by contact with vampires. They will always be ready to play
upon our desire for perfect love, and the dangers that seeking out
that perfect love in ignorance can lead to your death or
worse. I hope that I have frightened you enough to be careful
and given you enough knowledge to realize that vampires are the
ultimate predator of mind and body. The danger lies in that
they’re more human than human, and for that they deserve our respect
and understanding. |
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Top
Pixies and
Fairies. Yes, There is a Difference.
By
Rachel Morgan
Published in conjunction
with Cincinnati’s FIB Inderland Department;
FIB Inderlander
Handbook, issue 7.23
Pixies and fairies have lived among humans for longer than any other
Inderland group, but less is known about them than any of their
larger kin. For ages, artists and poets have tried to capture
the distinctions between them gained in glimpses, ultimately falling
short as both branches worked to preserve the truth of their
existences. Now that they live among us openly, it’s time to
recognize the differences in these two highly inventive groups of
citizens so that we may treat them with the respect they
deserve.
To the uninformed, pixies and fairies might be considered the same
species with minor changes in size and wings. Nothing could be
further from the truth, and the easiest way to incur the anger of
either of these resilient peoples is to say so. Pixies
especially have an incredible culture, and understanding this will
lead to a greater appreciation of what motivates them.
Pixies have dragonfly-like wings and are slightly smaller than their
fairy kin, coming in at about four inches. Their faster
metabolism and hard wings make them wickedly fast, necessitating a
diet of mainly nectar and pollen, supplementing it with the odd bit
of meat before hibernation. A sustained temperature below
forty-five degrees Fahrenheit will drop them into a torpid state
that is unwise to break until spring.
They invariably marry for love and are said to die of heartache when
their spouse passes on. Their life span is fifteen to twenty
years, largely hinging upon their living conditions. Children
are born in twos or threes, gestation being about six months
depending on the season and the availability of food.
Big families are indicative of a good provider and a nurturing
mother, giving the entire pixy clan status since it takes a large
plot of land to support many children. It’s not uncommon for
the first year or two of children to be lost because of bad
conditions and the inability to defend against encroaching
fairies. Death during hibernation is another constant threat
to the very young and very old, but a pixy can expect a healthy life
once they make it past the first few years.
Tradition dictates that children are named after their father, the
eldest having short names, the youngest given longer, more elaborate
titles. Children leave to start their own gardens when about
nine, shortly after puberty, though if a parent is ailing, an older
child may assume responsibility of a successful garden.
When lured into paying jobs, pixies use their natural talents to
excel in surveillance, camera maintenance, and general sneaking
around. They will not work as gardeners for anyone but
themselves. Though loyal and honest to a fault with those they
respect, will lie like the devil to those they don’t, and
friendships mean more to them than life itself.
Silver will burn pixies skin, acting like a poison should it get
into their blood system, whereupon the survival rate drops to almost
nil. Pixy dust is still much of an enigma, but shedding dust
is a sign of high emotions and can act as an irritant on human and
Inderland skin, much like poison ivy. A lesser-known aspect of
pixy dust is its ability to clot blood, an adaptation necessary for
sword-toting gardeners who can afford little blood loss before going
comatose.
Most pixies live in the country since gardens sophisticated enough
to support a growing clan are understandably scarce within city
limits, but once established, an elaborate city garden is safer than
one in the country and vigorously defended. It’s the rare pixy
who is attracted to the danger and excitement of living among people
a hundred times larger than they are, but the safety found within
the city is often lure enough to risk starvation.
Even city-living pixies avoid people, generally, existing on the
fringes as citizens without rights or responsibilities to the point
where they’re actually considered an expense, not an employee, when
working for the I.S. They cannot hold property and have no
legal rights. It’s a situation that pixies promote, preferring
to swallow the indignities heaped upon them by their fellow
Inderlanders and humans so they can remain free to settle their much
more pressing differences with fairies using a sword rather than in
the human/Inderland-run courts.
Pixies are in constant conflict for territory with the larger, more
aggressive fairies. If you see a pixy wearing red, they’re out
of their territory and not looking for trouble. It’s a sign of
truce. Don’t ask them to violate it; you’ll likely get pixed
and spend the rest of the day with a bad case of hives.
Despite their small size and fun-loving, peaceful appearance, pixies
will not hesitate to kill fairies in defense of people they care for
or to defend their territory. And they’re good at it.
Their natural skills of subterfuge, quickness, and their mindset of
putting their own beliefs above the law could lend itself to a life
of crime, but a pixy is at his or her best in the garden. They
could rule the world through fear if they wished, but all a pixy
desires is a small plot of land and the right to defend it.
I’ve never heard of a pixy harming a person other than making their
life miserable in retaliation for a slight or insult. In their
minds, we’re simply below notice, not worth the risk of attracting a
human or Inderland court and changing the status quo.
Fairies also keep to themselves, but they’re far more likely to hire
out for questionable jobs for large pay. Their small size and
inward-directed morals make them very effective assassins, so don’t
mistake small with harmless. They have butterfly-like wings
and a slower metabolism, but their ability to float high unseen for
long periods seems to be a good tradeoff for the faster but more
calorically expensive flying that pixies are capable of.
Fairies tend to shun cities as well, but adolescents of both sexes
will brave the streets to set up packs in parks or green spaces,
looking for adventure and a chance to prove themselves and earn the
right to start a family. Might makes right is their mentality,
compared to the individual morals guiding pixies’
decisions.
Being insectivores, fairies often vie for the same space as pixies,
bringing the two species into conflict. They could exist
peacefully on the same territory but for a fairy’s tendency to ruin
an area in search of food. The balance of power is fairly
equal, with fairies being larger—coming in at about six inches—but
slower. Fairies share pixies allergic reaction to silver, and
they migrate to Mexico with monarch butterflies for the winter
instead of hibernating. Not much is known about their home
life as usually all but young males shun contact with anyone larger
than they.
Despite their small size, pixies and fairies are potentially
dangerous and can cause untold grief when insulted or
slighted. Treat them with respect, and these deservedly proud,
intelligent members of Inderland will respond with professionalism
and grace. |
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| |
Hollows Time Line |
| |
Estimated migrations from the
ever-after: Elves: ~2000 years pre-Turn
Witches: ~5000 years
pre-Turn
Ceri's installment as demon familiar: ~1000 years
pre-Turn
Birth of Weres: ~6000 years pre-Turn
Birth of
Vampires: Unknown |
1953 |
Watson and Crick
develop DNA Helix model. Collaborating with Rosalind Franklin,
they turned Cold War funding to them instead of space and
unconventional weapons, greatly advancing the understanding of
genetic manipulation as the US develops genetic weapons instead of
nuclear. Space exploration fizzles
out. |
1958 |
Rosalind
Franklin continues her research, helping to push genetic
understanding up twenty years and giving us a wealth of genetically
produced drugs in the 60s. |
1962 |
Genetic insulin
becomes readily available. |
1966-1969 |
Turn begins and
ends, the T4 Angel virus transported by a tomato designed to feed
the people of the third worlds. |
1979 |
Ivy and Trent
are born. |
1980 |
Kisten is
born. |
1981 |
Rachel is
born. Personal computers become
available. |
1995 |
Trent and
Rachel's fathers die. Leon Barns quits the I.S. and is
assassinated to keep his findings
quiet. |
1997 |
Rachel graduates
HS and starts classes at 2yr
school. |
2000-2004 |
Rachel interns
with the I.S. |
2001 |
Ivy joins the
I.S. as a full runner after graduating a six-year course of
study. |
2003-2004 |
Rachel and Ivy
work together during Rachel's last year as an intern. |
2006 |
Rachel quits the
I.S. |
| |
|
To Top
Revised:
03/31/2010
Copyright © 2003 by Kim Harrison. All rights reserved. |
|