“All he wanted to do was to make this man, this beautiful soul, crest in uncontrolled ecstasy.” (page 80)

Yes, you read that right. “Arrhichion of Phigalia” is the title of Chapter Four of the upcoming Cock Fight. I bet you’ve never read a blog entitled that before? Either you’re intrigued or you’re reliving school nightmares…

School nightmares.

They are the bane of my existence, the thorn in my every side, and my constant companion for the last sixteen years. I kid you not. Every freaking night they crawl up onto my pillow and bore themselves right into my head.

“Good night. Sleep tight. Don’t let the school nightmares… err, bed bugs bite.”

I should embroider me a pillow.

I’ve always dreamed. I’ve always remembered my dreams. Before being cold-cocked by my panic disorder, however, I only viewed them as a usually pleasant distraction from the dark. Kind of like television with a really screwy cable plan.

Now, it’s different.

Now, it’s real… or it was real. I get confused sometimes.

There was a lot of crap I went through at school when mental illness first took its hungry little nibbles out of my brain. I had no idea what was going on.

It was like waking up underwater. It’s a whole new reality you’re met with, a reality where there is no obvious up. And breathing like you’ve done your whole life doesn’t work anymore. It just makes you drown faster.

Yeah, it sucked.

But, really, does it have to suck again in 3D and surround sound every single night?

Apparently it does.

I know there must be a reason behind these dreams, a reason God makes me relive my greatest failure again and again.

There has to be.

But I’ll be the first to admit that my faith takes a heck of a beating with this one.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe Stowe

Live from the Island of Misfit Toys… Merry Christmas Eve, everyone! We’re keeping a sharp eye to the skies for Santa while keeping our hands firmly on our pretty little meds. The last things we want on Christmas Eve are psychotic breaks. They’re messy and are generally party-downers. So here’s to keeping everyone merry and sane this December 24th!

I’ve got a real nice teaser for you today, one to tickle all of your drama-loving bones…
Chapter Five: Of Shots of Cold Water and Chasers of Fire
"The jingle and the little girl disappeared.” (page 65)

Are you intrigued? Are you setting all of your i-phones and other various electronic goodies to twirkle at you on Tuesday the 27th? Are you throwing a “Welcome Back to Hellesgate!” party Monday night? Are your guests coming dressed as Matthew, Cane or May?... Let’s hope not. This is what I was talking about keeping things sane, ok? Delusions may be fun on t.v. but they’re best left to the professionals in their straitjackets.

All kidding aside, I do hope you all have a magical day full of family, friends and faith.


I cling to mine so much that I’m afraid it’s rather tattered and frayed. No, mine is no longer shiny and new. I’ve long since passed the point of being able to take it out at a party and showing it off as a sparkly accessory. Most of the time these days, I keep my faith wrapped tight across my chest. I’m no longer warm without it.

Occasionally, however, I let my well-worn faith show. Most of the time, it’s flashed in the tiny but bright little corners of my novels. You’ll find it in the old Hellesgate church, in Cane’s survival, in Matthew’s acceptance and in Sahara’s starry-eyed hope. And today, you’ll find it here. Read between the lines of my misfit existence and you’ll see God’s threads keeping me whole and giving me purpose.

Merry Christmas everyone. I wish you warmth and love.

Maybe it’s apropos or just dumb luck that today’s reindeer game would be Cupid…

I imagine Cupid to be…

An Army doctor whose heart leads where few will follow. It is his second tour of duty, his first embedded in the front line. His life has been one of the study of medicine. His life has been one of the search for his reason for being. He is fully prepared to die here in the war. He expects it; he almost wants it. Before he goes, however, he is determined to save as many young soldiers as his skill and his reckless bravery will allow. When he saves a man who could be a traitor, has Cupid finally saved one life too many?

Until tomorrow (a late afternoon posting)…

Chloe Stowe