Author Archives: krischarlesauthor

Kris Charles is a pen name. She lives in Iowa. She enjoys music, baking, and playing with a Pup named Milo Roy. Katy Lily was her first major story, starting in 1992, it was told as a verbal story to her youngest brother. Parts were used as short stories for classes from grade school to College. And now, all ten year of Katherine Lillian’s Life will be published for the world to read. Kris is also the author of A Guardian’s Life Saga; first novel is The Seven Deadlies. The author of The Keepers Trilogy; first novel is The Keepers and the Sisters of Lilith. Others coming soon include Darkened Grace and Praying.

Running Away From Change

Theme: Running Away From Change

In a blink life can change. I sit here in contemplation as I stare out the window on this plane. This flight from change. I close my eyes and I see my white picket fence, my happily ever after. The ending of my hard lived fairy tale. I fear the change now. I fear what happened after the happily ever after. I closed my fist around the box I have had in my hand this whole journey. The enclosure that holds a gold band that symbolized the trading of my last name for another. What a trade it was. To shed my past for a future I saw only full of happiness, never imagining the page it would cause as it changed through the life I was living. I have the papers to make the change back to my old name. But instead of facing it, I stared at the blacktop roads for hours running from that change, just to get on a play out of the country to avoid it all. Back to my home, hoping to ignore my failure. I remember the tense feeling of the room when I walked into my bedroom. I had left work early for a doctor’s appointment. I was pregnant. I saw him with her. I spit out three words ‘We are done.’ I walked out. But now I flee from the change. I hold the papers but fear signing them. Fear the change it will bring in my life. Perhaps when I stop running I will be able to face it. But for now I run, to protect my mind as my heart breaks and my soul weeps. For now, I run from change, but I know one day I will have to stop running. But today is not that day.

On the Campaign Trail

Theme: On the Campaign Trail

I stood in front of the roaring crowd. Memories coming back to me. “How does one get to this point. Standing in front of a crowd on a campaign trail? I am about to tell you.” I started. “Forty years ago I was but a secretary. No one of importance. I had the impression I would die a nameless face of society. It is sort of funny this path I am now one started with a bowl of soup and a glass of milk. I found a child without any armor against the cold, one that would tremble in fear when I tried to help him with a kind hand. As with an injured dove, I held the child and set about to make sure he was healed. I then set about to make sure no child ever was hurt, like this little boy was, ever again. I found a group of like-minded individuals and united them. But to change the system we had to be within it. So we made a list, columns of pros and cons, and win the end I ended up in a public office. As I raised this little by my ambition to give him, and children like him, everything a child deserves and I moved up the ranks in the face of the public. Then I sat there, on my son’s birthday, one year, not long after he had graduated with his doctorate, we watched the television as it was announced. My end goal to show my son, the little boy I saved, that anything is possible with hard work. I turned to him and he pulled me into a hug. He was now a grown man of twenty-four and I am so proud of the man he has become. He kissed my cheek and smiled and stated, ‘Congrats Madam President.’ I smiled back at this young man that changed my life. ‘Thank you, son.’ I had told him.” I looked out at the crowd and smiled. “Why tell this story now? When I have long since been out of office? Why do I stand before you at the start of this campaign trail? Because today I introduce you to my son as he announces his bid to run for the office you all once honored me with and I am here to tell you that for every benefit I gave our country my son can increase it tenfold. So join me in welcoming the Senator of Iowa and to celebrate his bid into becoming your president!” I stand back to clap as my son came upon the stage. My son kisses my cheek as he moves up to the stand and the crowd cheers. I smile, my little boy has come so far and it all started with a bowl of soup and a glass of milk.

The Last Moment of Childhood

Theme: The Last Moment of Childhood

I remember it like yesterday. Was it yesterday? Time seems to blur lately with my depressed thoughts. That Halloween that ended my childhood and set me upon this road. A loss of childhood is a requirement of life I guess, but one that still comes as a surprise to everybody when they realize it is over. Those carefree days, gone forever, often times in a blink of an eye. Many gave contribute to that day, many that regret the choices that led to that day. Even as I lay here and listen to the voices talk about what is to be done with me. I listen as my godfather slams the refrigerator closed, I listen as my godmother cries, I even hear her blasted pet bird squawk against its cage being thrown about as people went to and fro. I close my eyes as I remember that day upon the pier when my parents said good bye to me. That day that was only a week before that terrible day, but seems so far away. The ship of iron and steel then was hit by a ship killer. And that is what that storm did. It killed the ship and along with it my parents. So as I lay her, moments after hearing the voices talk about where they would continue raising my ten-year-old self and try to think. At that moment I strengthen my mind, I create walls around my heart, and I make a vow. A vow that I will become the queen I am about to be crowned, and nobody, not even my godparents, will control my ambition to show the world I am my father’s daughter. Those voices would not be able to control my ambition to have the world fear the name, Anne Bathory. Because while I may not be Queen of my nation, I am queen of my land and my name would be feared. That I can guarantee in my last moment of childhood.

The Year is 2563…

Theme: The Year is 2563…

I look into my mirror. I smile, it is old, centuries old, and mine. I touch up my lipstick, after all, I am about to assert my mask I have created to the masses. My transformation was not an easy one. From a lower life upon this space station, called Earth III, to a twenty-seven-year-old Queen. Well, a queen in my own right. There is not much I can’t obtain now in this new life. From the cleanest of water to the rarest of processions, such as my prize horse, Silver Speed. I am due at the studio soon, an interview about my life and how I made it from nothing to everything. I smirk as I snapped my compact mirror shut and take a deep breath. It had nothing to do with the distribution of my books and my music, but due to the last diamond from Earth resting upon my knuckle. As I said my transformation wasn’t easy, with the cost of saying yes, because now after ten years I am finally a widow. The year is 2563 and the fifth revolution for equality ended with hemlock upon one man’s lips and one woman’s sacrificed innocence. And now it is time for my story to be heard…

An Unexpected Union

Theme: An Unexpected Union

This is a very short one

I stand here surrounded by hydrangeas. They remind of a time so far away. A time of happiness. Though hydrangeas are common, these weren’t. Their color almost black. Blood black I called them. Why am I standing here surrounded by them and memories? Memories that started with a scribble after just learning the alphabet, a potato, and a game of tug-of-war? Memories of helping a smiling woman and a happy boy plant these blood black hydrangeas? Memories that turned from games of hot potato to making sandwiches for a picnic, and the word boyfriend? Memoires of my brothers threatening him to not hurt me? Memories of hand holding, sweet kisses, and so hot summer nights? Memories of a childhood love? Why? Today I am surrounded by those hydrangeas, not for the wedding I always imagined, the wedding that was expected. No, today I am surrounded by them as the man who was my childhood sweetheart marries my little sister. Today I am surrounded by them as we watch one of the most unexpected unions. After all, they had seemed to always hate each other. Or at least they had until I found them in our bed four months ago. Today I stand here surrounded by hydrangeas as I finally give into the pain and watch as those that were once white join their blood black companions. I stand until I fall, and I give into this unexpected union of myself and Death…

Soulmates Are On Opposing Sides of a Conflict

Theme: Soulmates are on Opposing Sides of a Conflict

I glared at my husband. “Scrounge up some dignity and try not to look like you are a prisoner that escaped from a mental asylum.”

My husband let out a sigh but straightened his bow tie. Why he had to go to this he didn’t know and complained regularly about it. “Well, you can be more ladylike, instead of keeping this frenzy of a yelling match going!”

“Me? You are the one that is in the wrong!” I yelled once more. We have been having the same argument for the last two days, well really longer than that, it just came up again in the last two days. They were both on different sides of this argument since they were eight. I placed our invite into the slot in front of the house that I hated. I could hear the sprockets clicking against each other as the door opened. So bloody pretentious.

“Richard! And Lillian.” The man greeted, and I hope nobody would oust the hate I had for the man, it would break my mother’s heart. But he was family.

“Step-Father.” I greeted, as a try of champagne and stuffed mushrooms went by me. Ignoring the food I grabbed the champagne, not drinking it but handing it to my husband.

“Bruce! Tell my wife that apothecary is the word for the place and not the person!” My husband demanded.

Bruce sighed. This battle, argument, conflict, whatever it was, had been going on between them since they were eight. “I am not getting into this fight again. He turned to the woman that came up next to him. “Rose, tell your daughter to stop fighting with her husband over this.”

“Dear, these two have either been at each others throats or so sickeningly loving since they met at eight years old. They are soulmates, tumultuous, but soul mates. And dear, I don’t like the mushrooms, they are wrong. Throw them out.” Not caring they costs thousands of dollars.

Right then I realized I and my husband were the sane ones in the family. “I love you.” I told my husband.

Richard smiled. “And I live for you. But why drop this now?”

“Pregnant woman’s choice. But at least we are sane.” I smiled.

“They are family, and we are far from sane.”

“Please family members have but one goal,” at his raised eyebrow I smiled. “Find the sanest person in the family and drag them into pure insanity.”

“Again, we are far from sane.” He laid a hand on my six month along stomach.

“The sanest person doesn’t have to be sane.” I kissed him. “Just saner than the rest.”

Something Believed To Be A Myth But Very Real: Immortality

Theme: Something Believed To Be A Myth But Very Real: Immortality

I sit here at my desk and twirl my elm wand as I create a water lily. Honestly, I do no know why I like that bloody flower, but I do. My husband used to bring me them from the pond he had built just outside our property line. We couldn’t have the pond on the property because of some if the rituals we did. Being necromancers, powerful ones at that, the lilies would have disintegrated into dust every time we did a ritual. Thus, to make sure he could bring me them when he fancied, the pound was built off our property. I flicked my wand and set the water lily ablaze. I roughly wiped the tear that fell down my cheek and stood up and left the study. I was leaving the house. Moving away from the memories. I had never felt so powerless than the night my husband was murdered. A thousand years and my heart still burns. I never saw immortality as a curse until I realized I couldn’t spend it with the love of my youth.

I walked to my car. I snorted as I looked at it. After all, I have been around since before Christ. However, those GPS units are a lot more handy than roadmaps, especially when one is alone and can’t read a map and drive. I turned the key and pressed the button to start the directions towards my new home away, finally, from my past.

Six hours later I stopped at a truck stop. I walked in, used the restroom, and walked around the place to stretch. Almost twenty-five hundred years old, though I barely look twenty, I need to move my limbs more than a standard mortal. I snorted at the choppers that one would see on television. Why would anybody need that? But the place had everything from twine to glass and plastic trinkets. Why I would never understand and I had spent centuries being a nomad.

I soon grabbed some water and snacks, paid for them and my gas, and left. Strange places truck stops, all walks of life gather there, reminds me of watering holes in ancient times. I drove off shaking myself out of the thoughts of my past.

Thirty hours later, and a few more stops, I parked in front of my new home, sleek, modern, and across the country. So different than any other house I owned. Running from my past, mostly. I stood in the back yard with my elm wand pointed to the ground, and created ad pond with water lilies. My only reminder of my past. But then again, I always had a soft spot for the flower my husband gave me, always. For eternity… just like I would live. Immortality had never seemed a curse… until it was.

Write The Story Challenge!

A friend of mine bought a Write The Story journal for me and has challenged me to write one a day! I will be writing them in the journal and then posting them here! I will try to do it once a day until the journal is done, but it will probably only be a couple a week! But the first will be posted today! I hope you enjoy them!

Shades of Fear Prologue

Shades of Fear

Katherine Rochholz

Prologue

            A woman with golden hair and eyes there were reminiscent of the fires of hell stood with a babe clutched to her chest. The night was cold, unusually cold for a June night in the Midwest United States. It was foggy, the rain that threatened to fall hung in the air. But there she stood holding this precious being, that should exist, to her and hating herself for what she was about to do. “I am so sorry, my child,” she whispered as she put a bind upon what was his rightful inheritance. But now matter her own power the bind would, at most, last until his twenty-first birthday. She hoped it lasted that long. She knew he would be trained as a Nephilim, but he would need that training to win the war against those who fear change.
            She laid the child down in front of the rectory of the church. She was not lost on the irony that she was dropping her child off in front of a Catholic Church. She chuckled, for immortal beings those very beings resisted change like humans tried to prevent plagues. She sighed, she wasn’t immune to the resistance of change any more than the others of her kind, but she had long ago learned pouting and throwing a temper tantrum would stop the change.
            She bent to kiss the child’s head. “No matter why I do this, I do love you, Nathaniel Samuelson.” She whispered as she wrapped him in a blanket and left him lay in the basket, upon the note she placed within the basket she had left it simply stated:

‘Nathaniel Damion Samuels,

June Sixth The Year Of Our Lord 2001.

        To Whom Finds This Child,
        This child is destined to change the existence of heaven, hell, and Earth. Take care of him, love him, and encourage him… for everything depends upon him. Tell him his mother loves him but couldn’t keep him.
                        Sincerely,
                                L. Samuels’
            With that and one last kiss to her child’s head she turned on her heel and with a rustle of wings she was gone.
            Seconds later a young nun opened the door and let out a gasp as she picked up the child. She read the note. Something told her to not share more than his name and date of birth with the others. She would raise him as her own. She would get both her dreams. To be a Bride of Christ and be a mother. With that, she turned to file the guardianship paperwork that the law required and inform the proper authorities. After all one must follow not only the laws of God but the law of man. “Don’t worry Miss Samuels, Nathaniel will be loved with everything I have in me.” This young nun whispered into the air, just as she looked into the blinking green eyes of the babe.

Shades Of Fear

Nathaniel Samuels was going on 16, a progeny, a genius, and a charmer with a silver tongue. His goal was to become the best lawyer ever seen. At least that was the plan. He was also color blind. Until one day he started to see flashes of color. Confused he put it out of his mind… Until he was going into the best know defense law firm, Agares, Flauros and Rimmon and his world exploded into color and a man claiming to be his father grabs him and whisks him away to a top secret training facility. His father heads a group called Κυνηγοί της Δαίμονες, it is a group of Nephilims whose only mission is to destroy the demons of Earth. But unknown to Nathaniel he is so much more and his training and finding out he is a son of The Archangel Michael is just the beginning…

The Archangel Michael wasn’t as wholesome and just as they stated…

What does that mean about what is said about The Morningstar?

Shades of Fear
From Author Katherine Rochholz
Coming Soon