Archive for the ‘TALES OF ANGER’ Category

THE WINDS OF WINTER – PROLOGUE

Posted: November 18, 2015 in TALES OF ANGER

pROLOGUE

Winter had come to Westeros. Dawn had a disconcerting chill in the air, and even though the snows had come for three days, the snow did not stick to the road yet. Still, she knew the omen and the bad tidings it brought.  For Sybell every chance breath seemed ominous. She knew the wroth of the Tywin would soon be upon her House following the death of King Robb in at the Twins. She had to do everything as possible to help her children, though her eldest daughter Jeyne had not seemed grateful.  Sybell’s own lady mother had taught her to be cautious against evil omens, and how to act against them.

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The Lady and the Trump

Posted: October 15, 2015 in TALES OF ANGER

THE LADY AND THE TRUMP

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The first time Donald Trump locked eyes with her, he built a tower straight to Sansa’s heart. Sansa knew he had won her faster than he had won the support of the Night’s Watch due to their similar views on immigration. Named Lady of Winterfell and Warden of the North after King Stannis won the Iron Throne, Sansa’s next duty was to find a suitable husband. She needed someone strong. Someone with the resources and knowhow to rebuild the war-torn North. The Donald was all those things and more. The way he held himself as a true lord. The way he spoke with the confidence of a great leader. The way his hair fell onto his forehead and neck and ears and kind of on one shoulder but not the other. Yes, he is the one for me, thought Sansa.
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salemexamofShelly crouched down to pick up the parchment which had fallen to the floor. She smoothed out the damp square on her dress and was just about to fold it when something caught her eye. The crowd was still buzzing, yet she managed to keep her composure. The sense of impending doom and betrayal was fresh on her mind. Why would the Lord of Anger leave Lord Confused in charge? It made no sense. She knew that Lord Angry had a soft spot for Lord Confused after fighting side by side during the last crusade for the books, but he had to know how important this was, right?
“Uh, hello everyone,” Lord Confused began. “I am ready to begin the trial. King Stannis, Lord Axey? Shall we proceed?”
“Yes, let’s get this business over with straight away,” said Lord Axey as he adjusted his doublet. The embroidered ram upon his breast was worked in spun gold and shone brightly in the midday sun.
King Stannis did no more than nod his head and look at Lady Shelly.
“We are ready to proceed then! Bring in the first witness!” exclaimed Lord Confused.
Shelly heard the sound of footsteps and felt her heartbeat quicken, though she dare not turn her head to see who was approaching. The crowd started buzzing again, but was quickly quieted by a fierce look from King Stannis.

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THE TRIAL OF THE HAND (PART II)

Posted: February 24, 2015 in TALES OF ANGER

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She was dressed in a gown of simple lavender wool with Myrish lace on the bodice, and her hair was bound in a silver net. She looked as if she was attending a party rather than a trial, yet Shelly did not care. The dress was a gift, made special for the trial and was accompanied with a scrap of parchment from Lord Angry.

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THE TRIAL OF THE HAND (PART I)

Posted: February 23, 2015 in TALES OF ANGER
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The room was damp and smelled of mildew. A light draft wafted in from under the door though it did naught to improve the smell. The Lady Shelly sat on her cold bench and rearranged her scratchy woolen shift. “Bugger this thing!” she exclaimed as she brushed her arms trying to end the endless itchy feeling it produced. She did not know exactly how long she had been in the cell but judging from the meals she had eaten, she guessed about 3 days. She was waiting for the Lord of Anger to speak with her about her imprisonment. Even now, she could not find it in her heart to hate him after all they had shared. He was, after all, the man that had raised her up to Hand of Anger and provided her with a manse and more.

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 Detroit

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As the van made it’s way down the slushy road, Detroit called the Professor again. They had not heard from her for almost 48 hours, which was very strange. She was the one who had suggested they carry out their plans this weekend since the studio would be lightly guarded. “Well?” Shengqi asked, his eyes never leaving the road. “Straight to voicemail,” Detroit replied. “Maybe she lost her phone? Or she didn’t want anyone to track her? I bet that’s it.” Shellron suggested. Shellron was always the voice of reason. “Eh, she probably chickened out is what I think,” Little Bird added. Little Bird had a reputation for unabashed honesty. “I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter now,” Shengqi remarked sternly. “The plan is moving forward and we have to remember our goal.”  Shengqi slowed the van to a crawl and pulled up across the street from bookburner headquarters. HBO Studios, NYC.

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The Professor sat slumped in her chair. Her loose brown curls hung limp about her shoulders. Tape chafed her wrists and ankles where they had restrained her. She did not know how long she had been tied to the chair, but it seemed like an eternity. “How did I get myself into this mess?” she muttered aloud. Silence was her only answer. She looked around the tiny room. It was black as pitch and so cold. She shuddered and moved in her seat. Thoughts of Shengqi filled her mind. She thought back to the day she met him and how he had looked at her when she told him that she liked the books more than the show. He had been so pleased and welcomed her into the Army with open arms. It had been so hard to look into his eyes knowing that she would have to betray him. And the others? Oh God. Shellron with the corny jokes and Little Bird who was always so willing to discuss Sansan with her. And Detroit. She might miss him most of all. He was so funny and kind even though he did manage to annoy Shellron all the time. Their faces filled her mind, a dozen memories flashing before her. The knot in her stomach tightened. The Professor hoped that they would be alright. She knew they were in New York already. Their mission would take place soon, or at least she thought. She wished she knew what day it was. The Professor began to pray.

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