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Inion N. Mathair

~ TWO VOICES….ONE THOUGHT

Inion N. Mathair

Monthly Archives: October 2015

Stella Dore’s Park (In Honor of Halloween)

29 Thursday Oct 2015

Posted by Inion N. Mathair in Uncategorized

≈ 27 Comments

One of our creepy poems taken from our collection “No Rhyme or Reason” in honor of Halloween.

STELLA DORE’S PARK

Swing away swing, with nobody there

In a park that is vacant there’s a charge in the air.

Its midnight in New Orleans at Stella Dore’s Park.

It’s November chilly and frightfully dark.

 

A rogue phantom wind, that has yet to appear,

Still the swing swings away as my heart fills with fear.

I cross through the park, pass a slide when I see

The dirt billow up, someone’s dragging their feet.

 

I stop to stand quiet, as I struggle to hear

The sound of a child, laughing softly o’er there.

Her fierce, cold derision can be heard in her tone.

Though I can’t see the vision, she sounds sad and alone.

 

My first frightful instinct, apprehensively smart,

Was to flee from the imp that haunts Stella Dore’s Park.

But something about her seemed to beckon me near

To the ghostly, young sprite who sat swinging o’er there.

I pass by the merry go round as it spins

When the pixie declares she’ll confess her dark sins.

I ignore the sound reason in the back of my mind,

And confront the cross spirit, who was in the wrong time;

 

“You should go to the light, where the voice calls to you.”

The swing jerked to a halt, the air turned a red hue.

“My mommy has left me, but said she’d return,

Then a stranger came callin’ and his evil did burn.”

 

My mind how it races, my heart feels the sting,

Of the girl in the park, who’s condemned to a swing.

Then I finally see what I once only heard

The madness apparent, the vision absurd.

 

I can see the tears fall from her pain though it’s dark,

As she tells of a rape in Stella Dore’s Park.

The Cajun born lass gave a date, 1810

“Only three hours left ‘til I see him again.”

 

Then, she spoke of a crime that took place long ago

And a man in a cape, that refused to hear no.

She whimpered her warning of a creature so black

That his crime against her is what held her soul back.

 

I asked for the name of a man that would do

Such a thing to a child, and she said, “Monsieur Bleu.”

She points to her swing, and says hushed like to me

“He comes here at night ‘round a quarter past three.

 

And he speaks to me now, just as he did then,

As if I never died, as if he never sinned.

I live in this park spellbound by the deed

Yet his sin lingers on while I wait to be freed.

 

For these grounds I do roam, with no hope of escape,

Reliving this horror, transfixed in this state.

Behind Stella Dore’s gates I swing ever day

If condemned to this park, then it’s I who must pay.

 

But now that you’re here, I feel justice shall bend,

For this night you came callin’ and for me he did send.

Upon entering this park, you can finally see

That our lives have crossed paths so that I may go free.”

 

“He’s gone little girl you are free now at last.

He can no longer hurt you, for his evil has passed.

You have nothing to far, he has fled from this earth.

It’s your shame of his crime that has made you accursed.”

 

Then the ghost turned indifferent as she played with her hem

While she hummed a strange tune, then she curtseyed and said.

“It is you who should fear this poisoned ground’s dread,

Yet you willingly entered the Park of the Dead.

 

For in Stella Dore’s playground the swinging’s the vice

As he hand-picks his victims with a child to entice.”

I stayed sure and strong, scolding her mischief but good,

Still she paid me no mind, ‘stead she looked toward the woods

 

Then back to her swing, sounding smug yet subdued

She cordially presented her dark friend, Monsieur Bleu.

As I turned and beheld, through a thick patch of trees

A strange-gangly man stood there, staring at me.

Then he floated toward me, least a foot off the ground

Till he reached me and said, “What’s our sweet Abby found?”

He spoke the ole tongue, while pretending to pout,

“Qu’y at-il, ma che’rie? Has the child turned you out?

You were wrong to assume that my power ends here,

Just as you were wrong that sweet Abby’s sincere;

Yet consider, if you will, why this ghost acts so glum,

When it’s she who has picked this cursed park for her home.

 

Though I’m far too aware, of my perverse soul’s decline

It is painfully clear her lust far exceeds mine.”

I gasped as he grabbed me, threw his cape back then said.

“Now you’ll join clever Abby, in the park of the dead.

 

But tell me first lass, ‘fore I vanquish your world.

Who is the monster, Monsieur Bleu, or the girl?”

 

From Inion N. Mathair

 

 

 

 

 

 

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The Fat Lady Has Sung!

19 Monday Oct 2015

Posted by Inion N. Mathair in Uncategorized

≈ 31 Comments

Hallelujah our book, “The Crazy 8” has launched and is now available on Kindle or Paperback at Amazon!

This has been a tough journey to see this book to the end. But we stayed the course and can finally say that the second book in the Bastard Chronicles is now published; Kevin’s journey continues.

We’ve set up our book events in the local areas (North Carolina & Georgia) and will be spending the next few days setting up our on line interviews in hopes of getting the word out. We can’t thank all of you enough for your love and support throughout this time. Now, there’s only one thing left….

For those who’ve been fans of the series and supported us, we would like to invite all of you to take a trip to Amazon & purchase your copy of The Crazy 8.

http://www.amazon.com/Crazy-prepare-bastard-Bastard-Chronicles/dp/1516831071/ref

For those who haven’t read the first book we will be leaving the address to start there.

http://www.amazon.com/Perfect-Heaven-choice-Bastard-Chronicles/dp/1511484675/ref

A special thank you to all of our team: Ginger Mallory, Nick DeMarsico, Roschelle Morgan, Eric Aaddnesen, Crystal Aadnesen, Kira Renee Batts, & Allan Douglas.

Book Synopsis: I’d like to think the world is full of color, but that’s just not the way things work. Life is black and white and spectrum’s narrow into slits of neutrality while opposites dissipate into a stoic populace of Stepford assholes and Kool-Aid drinkers. The transition was slow enough to seem like progress and deadly enough to be effective. Nobody predicted it would happen; nobody but me. The players are in position and the games ready to start. Welcome to the New World Order; welcome to Hell on Earth; this is the Apocalypse.

Tagline~ As Heaven and Hell prepare for war, the world waits for a leader to rise and fate has chosen one mouthy little bastard.

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Introductions Please…

02 Friday Oct 2015

Posted by Inion N. Mathair in Uncategorized

≈ 24 Comments

THE CRAZY 8 (Bastard Chronicles)

Tagline:

As Heaven and Hell prepare for war, the world waits for a leader to rise and fate has chosen one mouthy little bastard

Our book The Crazy 8 still isn’t published but a little birdy told us that it’s only a matter of days before it’s big debut into the world. We thought we would introduce you to the characters as seen inside our head.

It’s an interesting thing writing books. The characters are as real as family members which is why Inion & I call them our babies. Some of you may remember them from our first book in the series, The Perfect 7. But we’ve lost a few along the way & added a few others.

The Cast of Characters in: The Crazy 8 (Bastard Chronicles)

Main Character: Kevin Yager (The Beautiful Aaron Johnson *for you Bethie)

Dahlia: (Rachelle Lefevre)

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Nelius – Cornelius Irving (Malcolm David Kelley)

Nan – Nan Amurri (Vanessa Lengies)

Simon Atkins (Sean Hayes)

Tootsie The Pooch (Jill The Dog)

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Lennon (Lamman Rucker)

Viktor Vikirrus (Jeremy Irons)

Reeves Larkin (Clive Owen)

Franqueza (Penelope Cruz)

Amos Prince (Michael Fassbender)

And there you have it… the faces that filled our minds while writing The Crazy 8. We hope to have the book to you very, very soon!!

Synopsis: I’d like to think the world is full of color, but that’s just not the way things work. Life is black and white and spectrum’s narrow into slits of neutrality while opposites dissipate into a stoic populace of Stepford assholes and Kool-Aid drinkers. The transition was slow enough to seem like progress and deadly enough to be effective. Nobody predicted it would happen; nobody but me. The players are in position and the games ready to start. Welcome to the New World Order; welcome to Hell on Earth; this is the Apocalypse.

 

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Inion N. Mathair is Irish Gaelic for daughter & Mother & our pseudonym

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