DebisZoo

Fantasy worlds. Magical inhabitants. Timeless battles between Good and Evil.

About debiszoo

Although I live in beautiful New Mexico, which is an excellent place to live, I find the world at large to be a trying place in which to exist. Therefore, I work hard to remove my readers from this world and transport them to one where good overcomes evil, and evil is punished; good is either inherent or learned, and good is always rewarded; and love—for a human, a cat, or a dragon—always wins. I revel in, angst over and would enjoy living the worlds I build, although I would need to learn to wield a weapon and dress a deer. And finally, I wish only to ensure that my worlds of fantasy keep the worries of life from seeping into them. I cannot; however, say the same for evil mages and misled trolls. I retired from writing for the federal government, where I took federal laws and turned them into plans and procedures understandable by the human brain. I have one wonderful husband, two amazing kids, and seven great cats. I also enjoy oil painting and crochet, probably in that order, on those infrequent occasions when I'm not writing.

Newsletters

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There are several authors from whom I receive newsletters and for the most part, I enjoy these little slices into their lives. Some are clever, some folksy, some risque, most wisely dependant upon the types of books they write. I mean, what reader of clean mysteries wants to read about reverse-harems with aliens. Yes, those are things.

I have tried my hand at a newsletter. One of my favorite authors sends a little one out every day. I strive to manage my works-in-progress every day. How could I possibly send out to a bunch of readers a slice of my life? It’s too boring, for one thing, plus I’m just not that reliable. The way I figure it, when I retired from my “Official Job” a few years back, I dropped deadlines like a hot potato! I try to write consistently, but if I don’t, I’m not going to hear about it during the next meeting with Washington, D.C.

Which brings me to life with the Newsletter Clique. Most of the ones I receive are monthly and update me on how their writing is going, what they’re up to, what their publishing timeline looks like. That’s good; I like that info. It’s nice and short, and in the case of some, I’m looking forward to their next book. Others are a little more personal—how they’re surviving during the pandemic, how their cats are doing… and some just go way over the top. You knew I would get to them, didn’t you? Here is a a mishmash from a few I’ve received, with a little added zing from me!

The Newsletter from Heck: We’re managing this crisis with our heads high (hopefully masked). We’re helping out by feeding our elderly neighbors, and I think that’s tax deductible! But then our kids and their dogs had to move back in with us, so we might have to stop that. Our refrigerator broke down the other day, so I tore it apart and found that little piece that was wonky, I had to make a new one, but everything is OK now! Oh, and while I had the fridge spread out, my cat ate something that was dangling from the back. Vets closed, so I mixed up and salt and warm water, he drank it and threw it up. He’s feeling much better now (of course, I need stitches on my face, arms, and hands, but I’ll take care of that too). I might have put on a pound or two, haha! That’s what happens when you can’t get to the gym and exercise (what’s wrong with a few situps and jumping jacks at home?). Since I’m having to cook so much more at home, I absolutely had to have Amazon send me a few things to help me get by! I love the new Air Fryer Oven Cooker, and the Omelet Maker and Instant Pot, but you should see the Family Size Electric Breakfast Station I got! It’s blue! Let me close by thanking my kids for coming home to mom and dad when they were frightened and in danger of getting kicked out of their apartments because they couldn’t pay the rent. We understand you need to cut loose on the weekends–you’re kids! You need not work at a fast food place while trying to find a job that uses your basket-weaving degree; we understand! That’s what families are for!

Sigh. I can’t compete with those kinds of lives. My boring newsletter would run something like this–except with bullets cause, you know, I like bullets:

  • We live in the mountains now; it’s quiet (although we live between the freeway and the fire station, so it can get lively at times). We also live beside a transformer station. A section of it got hit by lightening and blew up a few months ago. It set our backyard on fire; the village mayor lives behind us, a little further up the mountain. He came running down and started putting it out before the FD we live so close to, got here. That’s was when we noticed—hey, our yard it on fire! Nice way to meet the local politicians. BTW, a transformer explosion is astonishingly loud. My nerves are finally settling back down.
  • We enjoy our “quiet” lives with our six cats. Three are elderly, they throw up frequently, tending to do so where we’ll be sure to see it. They’re thoughtful that way. Try stepping on that at dawn; a real waker-upper. They also have discovered there are mice in the garage, and their new hobby is herding them into the house. Mice go under the furniture, waiting for my foot to go by so they can attack. My daily exercise taken care of—win win!
  • Our adult kids have typical kid troubles; we help them as much as we can. We love them, and they want to live their own lives, but things are weird right now. It’s amazing how many things can go wrong with little things around the house when you can’t get someone to fix them right away. Both are learning to be repair people out of necessity. Not exciting, but making me proud!
  • Our refrigerator is OK, but not so the freezer section. Tossing out an entire freezer full of food isn’t quite so back in the mountains, where you can toss the meat out back and enjoy the sounds of the coyotes fighting over it at night. They tend to come back for seconds, but at least not during the day. Vinnie will be here in a half-hour to fix it. He wears a mask when he comes in! And we got new pans! They’re some weird color, but they were on sale.
  • Speaking of critters—hubby went around to the side of the house recently, and he and a bullsnake about five feet long met up. After hubby introduced himself from a distance (the snake wasn’t wearing a mask), the snake then proceeded to crawl up under the siding and back into the house. How about trying to sleep after that! And what a rotten mouser he is! How do I teach my cats not to go after a snake when they’ve never seen one? They aren’t the smartest…

I’ve written before about life here–A Room with a Scream and A Room with a View, in earlier blogs. Life with screaming chickens and what looks like a view from a scifi movie is interesting. But I can’t compete with those other people. We’re typical and boring. I’m cool with that.

And Life is Back to Normal

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Steven is adjusting to his pacemaker. Fred has come home. I can concentrate on my writing again! I’m working on a book that’s more sci-fi than my typical fantasy, although there are elements of fantasy too. The protagonist’s name is Whern. She’s an Indigene, a genetically pure native who is born with mysterious Abilities. She’s an Arbiter in the Corporation, the military-based entity that runs her planet. For many years the 9th Sector has been plagued by Hostiles, attacking and robbing spaceships like common pirates, and then destroying them. For reasons kept from her, Whern has never been allowed to go offworld. With the help of her conniving Commanding Officer, she finagles the assignment to find the Hostiles. But her CO feels she can’t handle it alone and has plans to sneak aboard her ship. She doesn’t need anyone’s help and she’s a lot more devious than he ever thought she could be. Devious is just what she has to be, because the Hostiles are so much more–and lead to something shocking, that Whern’s world isn’t ready to confront.


I’m having so much fun with this! I’m constantly quizzing Steven about military stuff, as well as Jerry Loeb and Bruce Berg. I originally wrote this almost twenty years ago and it sure is taking a lot of updating!

Hope — There’s No Keeping It Down

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My cat, Fred, had been missing for a few days now. He must have gotten out through the garage when we were getting rid of packing boxes. We moved here a few months ago, but were saving the boxes–oh, that just doesn’t matter.

He is MY boy, he sits on my lap. He’s soft, a flame-point mix with white fur and crossed blue eyes. He’s very timid. And he’s gone.

I keep telling myself we’ll find him, then I sink into depression and tell myself he’s gone, he’s too naive to make it out in the wild on his own. I convince myself to stop worrying and thinking, I’ve called around, I’ve put a notice on Next Door, and even on a national pet connection site. I called our old neighbors, in case he somehow makes his way back to our old house on the other side of town. It has been known to happen (that’s called HOPE).

As I’m doing other things, I go to the door and call him. He’s such a little scaredy-cat, so timid. Being cross-eyed, everything must look scary to him. After reconciling myself to the fact that he might be gone–hit by a car or taken by the coyotes or the huge dogs around here, I still keep catching myself watching out the windows to see a flash of white, and calling for him.

I suppose that’s what hope is. I can’t make it go away. Until I either have him back, or know that he is gone, I can’t make myself stop hoping he will return. Hope must be a gift, something to keep you from falling into a cauldron of self-despair while you’re waiting for the bad thing to go away. Like a virus or an illness or a condition.

My husband just got a pacemaker and it’s making him feel so much worse. I’ve gained 18 pounds in the last two months. How does a person even do that? But there’s that hope–I will try harder to get those pounds to shrink back down, and he will visit the cardiologist today to figure how why his new hardware is wonky.

And Fred will come home.

Furry Fred

Introspection from a Quarantined Family

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Being quarantined has resulted in some strange goings-on in our household of two humans and six cats. Since we’re retired, we spend more time at home than other people we know, so the cats are fairly accustomed to our hanging around in their house more than we used to. Yes, we have cats that old. While there are some disagreements as to whose turn it is to sit in what chair, we generally send them flying off the item in dispute by throwing the treat bag across the room and leaving them to fight with it for a while trying to get to the treats.

Another, more insidious issue, is the TV. We have a large-screen TV, a “must have; I’m retired” item that has taken over our living room. Hubby used to be a news junky, but not anymore, it’s just too repetitive and depressing. I thought—wonderful! No more of that awful news! He will spend more time in his workshop, leaving me at peace in my office (right next to home-theater-sized TV), and we can have a nice lunch, watch some TV… But no, instead, he has discovered YouTube. I watch YT at times 😉; I like to read about entitled people getting their comeuppance, and cheating spouses getting their comeuppance, and spoiled kids—yes, there’s a theme here. And I love to watch cats. Don’t we all? But hubby has discovered other kinds of videos. A man who demonstrates wood turning. Another one who talks about welding equipment and dismantling a pickup truck. We get the spend our lunch watching dashcams from various parts of Europe—those people have some serious driving issues! They are trying to kill each other. On a 5-lane road with no markings! It’s a free-for-all! And even more vidoes of people from here in U.S., trying even harder to kill each other! More videos, with people “brake-checking.” Apparently, this is something where you’re driving really fast, then out of nowhere, a car whips in front of you (I suppose at some time you irritated the driver, or your car is the wrong color), anyway, he jumps in front of you and slams on his brakes! And then they get incensed when you hit them! I just stare in wonder that these people are even driving. There’s a channel that does some nifty DIY stuff, he’s only marginally interested in that…so we watch it for a while. And then—this cracks me up—magnet fishing! Hubby used to have a metal detector many years ago; it’s in the garage sonewhere. He recently exchanged the idea of a metal detector for a magnet that must be 2-feet wide that he drags around the property, picking up metal objects. That’s legit—no one one wants the mower to launch a 4-inch nail through the air. But these videos show young men, or in particular, a young man and his dad, using magnets to troll rivers in the U.K. It’s great for bonding; that’s apparent, but can you imagine the wife at home—well love, what kind of crap have you found today and dragged home? Ah, an old, rusted bike frame and a road sign? You shouldnt have! And six old spikes and a piece of a bed frame? I can use those! They did find some money once, in fact, several bags of money… wrapped up with wax and other weird little things in bags–OMG, put those back! They’re voodoo or something! They found empty safes by the boatload. Where are all these safes coming from? That’s what I want to know! So, this is often our lunch and early afternoon viewing pleasure. I want to watch the cats—I get to watch a puma named Messi, who lives with a delightful young Russian couple! He is adorable! I recommend him: I Am Puma. But avoid the river magnet people. They are sooo boring. Even finding a gun or a grenade can’t liven them up.

Another quarantine issue, which I recently shared with FB friends, is that I am experiencing really dry skin now; unlike I’ve ever had before. Like “arms and legs with dandruff ” dry. Or “living on Mars in the summer with snowflakes coming off your body” dry! I don’t think the house is overly dry; I don’t get electrocuted when I walk across a carpet. Of course, I only have one carpeted room—my office. Where I spend a lot of time. Writing and being quarantined. And scratching.

My final quarantine observation has to do with ordering food online to pick up. Since a lot more people are doing this, the time between ordering and pickup can be two or three days. So I start out with an order of around $40, just essentials. And some pretzels. They’re important! Close up the order, pay, and tell Alexa to remind hubby a half-hour before pickup, the day after tomorrow. If you read my blog, you know that Alexa runs our lives. Anyway, not ten minutes later, I remember we need mustard. So I open the site, search for mustard, add it to cart, add that to order that hasn’t been picked up yet—anything else, dear?—and close. An hour later. Hubby: did you remember to put cat-litter in the order? 😬 Me: I asked you if that was everything! 🙄 Well sorry, I forgot! So shoot me. 😠 Open site, type in cat-litter, add to cart, etc. Order is now $48. By the next day, the order is up to $101. BTW, the first order had several large things–sodas and the like, so I didn’t request a 10¢ each, plastic bag for the things to be packed into. The employee could just toss them into the back; most of it was going into the garage refrigerator anyway. Once you say no to bags, you don’t get to go back and beg for bags. I’m not going to tell hubby that tomorrow morning, $101 worth of groceries are going to be tossed into the back of the car, while he sits up front, with the windows rolled up, in his mask. 😟

We will get over this, of course we will, even if it takes a little longer than we hoped it would. Some of the things that have changed in our lives are huge. But it’s still the little things that seemed to get under your skin. And make you itch.

A Room with a Scream

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When we moved to our idyllic little house in the mountains, I was so happy (still am!). A small slab of mountain behind us, and one across the freeway. Freeway? Yes, the freeway, or at least a small section of road, is visible from our front yard. And our picture window. But when we were viewing the house, we sat inside with the doors and windows closed, and then with the windows open, and we couldn’t hear anything, so we decided that really didn’t matter. We’re still in the beautiful mountains, in our sweet, little village. NOTE: There is also a substation next door, but I’ve addressed that in an earlier post.

The day comes when we move our furniture from the city to our little cottage in the–yeah, yeah you get it. We now live in the mountains. After an exhausting day of directing the movers where to put what (they don’t follow directions very well so there was a lot more work to do after they left), it’s time to make the bed and fall into it! It’s so quiet, serene, cold… we like it cold. It’s November, in the mount–yes. We open the windows and snuggle under our quilts. The bedroom cat crawls under. She’s like, what the hell? It’s cold out there! NOTE: Anny Catt (bedroom cat) is 4 lbs of terror; she hates everything on earth but hubby, tolerates me, tries to kill our other 5 cats on sight (remember, she weighs 4 lbs) so she lives in our bedroom. One of our cats weighs 18 lbs, another 20, the others aren’t much smaller A fight is not a pretty sight.

So, we’re all fast asleep, when in the middle of the night, coyotes run by. We’re accustomed to that, we had them running through the arroyo behind our old house, howling and freaking out the cats. It’s kind of a cool sound, sometimes it makes the hair on my airs rise, but it so nature! Only these coyotes sound like they’re standing under our window! They are so loud, they wake me up, my heart pounding. They go rushing by, probably running in the dry creek bed behind our house, or alongside the mountain on the other side of the creek. But they go by fairly quickly and me, hubby, and cat soon so back to sleep.

And then it happens. A ghastly scream breaks the dawn. We both fly up. Cat runs further under the quilts, growling. Silence, then another scream, and another. Dear God, is someone killing someone in our backyard? Hubby runs to the window and slams it shut. No dear, you can’t make the killer go away by shutting a window. By the time he gets to the other window, the next scream ends with a tiny, doodle-doo… Another scream-doodle-doo. It’s a freaking rooster. It sounds like a woman being stabbed to death! I swear!

“Why aren’t the damned coyotes eating that thing?” I demand blearily. “Is that what they’re doing down here, hunting for it?” Can we call animal control? Probably not, we’re living in nature now! Hubby Googles, “how long do roosters live?”

It’s now March and that damned thing wakes us up at dawn nearly every morning, unless we sleep with the windows shut, which we rarely do. Even in the middle of winter, they’re open a crack. Apparently, that’s all the room the sound needs to filter through.

I’m at wits end. I’ve wondered if there’s such a thing as a noise-sensitive floodlight. Or, we can get a screaming goat. You’ve seen them on YouTube. They also sound like a murder victim. If the rooster awakened them, would they scream back? Maybe an airhorn? I don’t know; it’s hard to think rationally at 6 a.m.

So, that’s the view from the bedroom.

In other news regarding the view from my office (substation), we’ve contacted the electric company. The bemused gentleman who came and looked agreed–we need something to put between our house and the eyesore. He wonders why the people who lived here before didn’t do it. I don’t care. I just want to look out my office window and not see an EMP-machine living next door.

Self-Quarantined? I'd Like to Invite You to Read Books One and Two from an Epic Fantasy Series

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The first two books from my series, The Ring-Witches of Nesht, Dragon Rings and Dragon’s Revenge are on sale through 04/04/2020, for .99 each! And as always, both are free on KU.

Something dark and terrible is striking unseen in the night, bringing death and ruin to the peaceable lands of Nesht, and then vanishing back into the cold mists of the surrounding mountains. Two powerful Ring-Witches, Mayra and Wolfe, join uneasy forces to investigate the ongoing—and very puzzling—destruction. How can something be formidable enough to incinerate entire villages and tracts of forests, slaughtering people and animals, yet leave behind massive amounts of valuable gold and jewels? What do these savage invaders want? As they investigate, they hear and feel a large, powerful presence—but it refuses to show itself. When they probe, it brings scorching, mind-rending pain to Mayra—and then inconsolably apologizes for its actions! When Mayra finds a huge, bloodstained talon, she finally knows what that destructive force is—a dragon. A creature so long unseen they are a myth. Once upon a time, dragons treasured witches as allies. What has changed? Why are they attacking humans? Mayra and Wolfe must learn the truth and stop a war the humans cannot possibly win. But joining the dragons would be more than just betraying their king, it could mean their deaths. For Mayra and Wolfe and their small, fierce assembly of witches learn that there are some things worth more than a life. Some causes that even mighty dragons will die for. https://www.amazon.com/Dragon-Rings-Ring-Witches-Nesht-Book-ebook/dp/B075H39PVD/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

Powerful Ring-Witches, Mayra and Wolfe have fled their kingdom, accompanied by their witch-warrior friends, escaping with the dragons they rescued. But once they reach the dragon’s cold homeland, they find an empty Aerie. Where are the dragon females and the younglings? Barely do the witches have time to rest before they are winging their way to rescue the stolen dragons—but this one is challenging from the beginning. The witches quickly find themselves trapped in a vast system of caverns with Hagan, an evil, fanatical dragon. With his helpers—a greedy shapeshifter and a wrathful gnome, he has stolen something precious from the dragons and hidden it away. Mayra is running out of time. If she doesn’t wrest a powerful talisman from Hagan’s control before he can use it, he will take control of all the noble dragons that Mayra loves. Hagan threatens to kill his hostages—the female dragons and their tiny offspring, unless Mayra leaves him to collect his terrible treasure from its hiding place. Can Mayra and Wolfe rescue the dragons—large and small—and the talisman before Hagan and his irrational accomplices destroy all that the mighty dragons hold dearest to them? It won’t be as easy this time, for Hagan, a wielder of dark dragon magic, dares the humans to battle him—the most savagely horrific dragon ever hatched. https://www.amazon.com/Dragon-Rings-Ring-Witches-Nesht-Book-ebook/dp/B075H39PVD/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8tore

A Room with a “View”

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We moved to our wee village in November, 2019. When we purchased our property, we knew (since we can hardly avoid seeing it) that there was a bit of an eyesore on it, that is, the village substation which takes its royal place as part of our property. We went ahead and purchased it because we were aware of laws that require the electric company (EC) to put up landscaping to make our property a bit more pleasant. We can’t imagine why the previous owners never requested the EC plant trees to hide the Decepticon from view, but getting the EC to pay for and plant landscaping is just the sort of challenge Steven (hubby) lives for.

This Blight is what I see out my office window. Steven brushed up on the pertinent laws and contacted the EC. According to them there is money in the budget, and they sent someone out to have a look. We contacted them again yesterday, after giving them two months to think about our plight. The conversation:

EC: Yes, we should get trees. However… trees must be watered. Where will this water come from?

Steven: We have city water, and a well that we use to water our property. You can use that. We just want the Blight hidden so my lovely, patient wife doesn’t look out her window and think of Transformers, versus the elves and witches she prefers to write about.

EC: Hmm… not sure if that’s doable. We’ll get back to you soon!

So, here we are. I am sitting at my desk, looking out my window at the Blight. We installed lovely burgundy mini-blinds, so I can shut those, but then my cats can’t look out at the birds (those of us with cats know what blinds that are attempting to thwart a cat look like). I will update my woeful tale if or when details become available.

The View from my Office

“Summerbird Rises”

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I have just reissued “Summerbird Rises” with a new beginning and pages of new content. If you own the book, delete it from your library and download it again.

If you haven’t gotten it, you are missing a magical tale that tells of a young woman raised in the wrong non-magical realm who is returned to her birthplace to learn the powerful elemental magic she should have been taught as a child. Summerbird has spent a lifetime hiding her inept magic; she quickly realizes that she needs more than new magic to survive the formidable and scheming inhabitants of her new home. Not to mention the evil abomination that suddenly threatens that realm. Can she find the resilience and courage to face a being that shouldn’t exist? She’s been alone almost all her life. She never expected to find friends, even a family, and now must protect them while completing a daunting task. And perhaps afterward, she’ll find time for some revenge.

https://www.amazon.com/Summerbird-Rises-Act-Entreaty-Book-ebook/dp/B01M17B0FZ/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1522531156&sr=8-1&keywords=summerbird+rises

It All Began with Groovy

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What, you may or may not ask, launched this tirade? Words are my art, my passion, my fun and games, and so on—I merely wish to have it know that I love words. Etymology, anagrams, puzzles, the twisting and turning of a phrase, I love anything that conveys my thoughts to your brain.

But in loving words, it is therefore logical there are words that I hate. And as the titles conveys, it all started when I was a teen and heard the word groovy. From the moment it left those long-forgotten lips, I loathed it. It was silly, grating, and meaningless. Through the years, I met other words I hated with equal fervor, for example: awesome, dude, bro (and the lesser-known brohoe), and it is what it is. What does that even mean?

I actually have a personal Word Hate List (WHL) that started long before dope was a good thing. There were a few words that made the list through the years: fuzz, dig it, the projects, and prolly, although I do sometimes use that one in emails. But only with my sibs *snrk*, I thought I’d sneak that in.

Unfortunately, in the last decade my WHL has grown tremendously. Where in the name of all that is holy did words like cray-cray, stay-cay, and vay-cay come from? Are people so lazy they can’t even finish saying a word? (Case in point—I am having a fight with autocorrect just to keep those words on my screen!) I managed to survive the YEETs and the YOLOs, and of course, the Lol, Lmao, Lmfao, Rofl, AND Roflmfao, never having actually done any of those things, well, except maybe the first two. I’ve seen wut/wat written, not as slang in dialogue such as in a novel, but as a question asking for clarification.

But at last, we reach the event that brought about this lighthearted communiqué. I truly thought I had reached the pinnacle of word hatred. Until I opened an email from a book club and I was hit in the face with V-Card. I stared at it. In the context of what I was reading, it could mean only one thing. My forehead wrinkled in distress. Nooo, I moaned. Please, let it be one horrible incident, but no, suddenly it was everywhere in the description of books, from the subplot all the way to the actual plot line. I started seeing it in other places, especially regarding Young Adult (YA) chatrooms. The phrase waves its unsavory presence ubiquitously–in comics and in amusing, upbeat novels, as well as more serious writings, all aimed primarily at a YA audience. If I need to get down from my soapbox and explain to you why I find V-Card objectionable, then you and I will never understand each other.

Before I go, in fairness, there is one fairly new word that I’ve seen lately that I enjoy, and that is “karen.” It’s not so much a word as a description. Look it up on Reddit and prepare to be entertained. I have intentionally left my loathsome words undefined. I understand there are Urban Dictionaries out there on the Internet somewhere, which you are free to locate and use. Have fun.

What are Dragon Rings?

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For those who suggested that I had not emphasized the basis of my series, The Ring-Witches of Nesht, that is, Enhancement Rings, I agree. It’s time we know more about the symbiotic nature of these ancient tools. Rings are earned as children, and are worn by Mayra and Wolfe, the primary Ring-Witches of this series, as well as all the witch-warriors. But those wearing the Rings actually know little about them. What are Enhancement Rings? Where did they come from? As Mayra and Wolfe find each other and battle to free the dragons, they soon realize they don’t know the dark side of their Rings; in fact, that know very little at all about their purpose.

The following bit of conversation between Mayra and her warlord/father-figure/mentor, Leisher–shortly before he utterly betrays her–explains what she knows of the Rings she wears. It is far from all there is to know.

“…the Rings are for enhancement of power. The Guild doesn’t give them where magic doesn’t exist, nor do they strengthen one. Anything you see me do, I could do without them. But the Rings do make magic possible with much less effort.” Her eyebrows drew together. “If they do add anything, it is swiftness and precision in using magic.”

And later: “Our magic is based upon being one with and using, nature and the elements. Secondary magic, which is physical, hands-on incantations, relies upon knowledge of herbs and plants, and some alchemy. Enhancement Rings are given to a child once they have been taught all that the Guild can teach them…”

She ran a finger across her Ring and shivered. The gesture was no longer entirely soothing. Wolfe had shown her another, sensual side of her Rings, one she was certain she wished to explore further. Her instructors had never told her that being touched by a male with Rings—and a certain gleam in his eyes—could make her feel as though she were on fire inside.

She glanced at Leisher. He was waiting quietly. The next part—she wasn’t sure she wanted to convey it, nor the warlord to hear it, but she took a deep breath.

“Inside are minuscule filaments, of various lengths and as fine as hair. The Guild Healer cuts our wrists open across here,”—she drew her finger across her inner wrist—“and the filaments are fused with nerves. They then grow into the nerves throughout our bodies. Supposedly, if someone should remove the Rings, the loss will kill the person. After a month or so, we have healed enough to start learning to use and control the Rings. I didn’t—”

She looked up and stopped short. Leisher—his face pale and pinched—stared at her with something akin to horror in his dark eyes. He was hardly aware that he was clenching his hands into huge fists.

“I-I never would have allowed that to happen to anyone I cared about.” His voice was strained and hoarse. “How can it be expected that you will forget—carry on life after enduring such a thing?”

“Leisher, you cannot understand,” she began gently. “From the day we are given over to the Sorcery Guild, we are told every day what will happen. After a while, it’s a part of growing up, as you know you will get taller, your feet will get bigger”—she gave him a quick grin—“it’s just something that will happen to us.”

Leisher’s large hands closed around her small ones as he stared down at their arms. Lights glimmered off his gold and leather wrist guards as he reached out a cautious finger and touched a small, flat, coin-shaped piece of metal at the top outer Ring

She poured more tea for them and continued: “Ring lore says the bands are symbiotic. That hasn’t been proven, but somehow, they can refuse the person they are supposed to bond with.” A smile lifted one corner of her lips. “The nightmare of a new Ring-Witch. So, now you know the very basics about a person who can turn a thought into action.”

But that is far from all that Mayra eventually learns about her Rings, and how they are part of dragons and their lore. You will find more about the mythos of Dragon Rings in Dragon Rings. The story of Mayra and Wolfe and the dragons continues in Dragon’s Revenge.

You can find both books here

Amazon.com: Dragon’s Revenge (The Ring-Witches of Nesht Book 2) eBook: Debi Ennis Binder: Kindle Store
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