Posted in Poetry

The Joy of You by L. M. Montes

Thanks, I will be going now to breathe fresh air in June,
but not before I’ve spent the night a gazing at the moon,
needles of pine, spring scented rushing winds of fragrance,
and pushes me from side to side and sailing in a free dance,
filled with beauteous splendor, I cross my arms up close,
pinning to my mind the joy from you that flows,


Posted in Social

A Personal Starting Point Biography

Ever since I read a short story my elder sister wrote when I was a pre-teen, I wanted to write stories. Then I began reading mystery books for young adults and wanted to write even more. There was just one problem. I didn’t know how to go about doing that. At the time I didn’t understand there was a process or a particular structure in regards to writing a story let alone writing a book. After all, I was only 10.

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In high school in one of my English classes, we were assigned to write a short story. Now, I don’t remember what the lesson was surrounding this assignment or if the teacher taught us an in depth lesson on how to write one, but I wrote one. My mom praised it and thought the world of it. I, however, was more critical of it. I felt there was more I needed to know. As I recall, I could have done more with my characters and added more conflict and/or suspense. I don’t remember what grade I received for the story, but I know it was a passing grade. I wouldn’t get back to writing creatively until my late 20’s.

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During my hiatus the yearning to write a book was ever present in my mind. So between raising kids and a family, I read how to books on writing fiction. I tried to set pen to paper and start a but it fizzled out. The time wasn’t right. I had three kids (boys) and a husband, so that’s where my mind was at. My husband was in the Army, and, at one point, he was deployed to Saudi Arabia for Desert Shield/Desert Storm. His safety and the care of my three boys was first on my mind. At that time I still wanted to write a book, but I lacked the materials and opportunity to do so. That was ok. I was young and had plenty of time for writing later. In the meantime I lived life. Little did I know, it was only the beginning.

Ohhh the stories I could tell from that point onward…..

Posted in Fiction

The Boyfriend (Part V)

“You see,” said Gabe, the woman you met is an enchantress. The moment you and her spoke for the first time, whether on the phone or in person doesn’t matter, she cast an enchantment on you.”

“I’m not into that magic stuff. It’s nonsense,” I stated.

“Nevertheless, it’s real to your boyfriend…..or ex-boyfriend. Sorry.”

“So I’m cursed? Is that what you’re saying?”

“No. No. Not exactly a curse. Let’s just call it a homing beacon. It doesn’t matter where you go. You can be extra careful in covering your tracks. He will always know where you are.”

Gabe encircled an arm around my shoulders and guided me to my car. Wait, how did he know this was my car? I asked him that, now. Peering down from a good 6 feet in height, he smiled at me and cupped my cheek with his palm. “Do you have a park nearby where we can sit and talk?”

Caution gripped my insides. After what just happened with my ex-boyfriend moments ago, I remained on edge. “I-I don’t think so. We need to part ways. I don’t know you, and you want to go to a park and talk? Really? Uh-uh. Nope.”

“It’s ok. We can stay right here if you like. It is not my intention to scare you. You see, I am an angel, and I was sent to protect you.” At that moment a pair of white translucent wings appeared on his back as a light emanated around him.

Realizing my mouth was open, I closed it. I glanced around to see if anyone else was seeing this angelic spectacle. Two people walked by. One, a woman, walked by me smiling but never looked my way. The other one strolled by toward the store front with a scowl on his face. He, like the woman, walked by me without giving me a second glance. I reached for Gabe’s hand, picked it up by his fingers, and held it. Clearing all thoughts out of my head, I closed my eyes and made him my focus. An easy feeling filled my heart, and I cradled his hand to my chest’s center. “I feel your goodness, now.” I looked up and met Gabe’s eyes. They transitioned in hue from a light blue to a deep blue and glistened.

“You’re an empath, Julia,” said Gabe. He brought his other hand up and took her hand now his own. “I promise you this. Nothing will happen to you. Now come, let us go.

I nodded and smiled in response, turned to get in my car, but it wasn’t there. In fact, the parking lot was gone. The whole of everything had changed. Green, lush grass displayed in front of me and under my feet. A clear blue stream trickled water off to my left and rolling hills of flowers sat in the distance. “Where…..?” I turned around. Then I saw it. Behind me and off to my right a scene with my body lying on the pavement of the parking lot began to fade.

Gabe stood next to me watching my every move. I peered up at him now and blinked twice. “I’m-I’m dead? But, I don’t…..”

“Remember? I took that memory away from you the moment you saw me. Shortly before your ex-boyfriend, Jeff, left, he killed you.”

“But…..but.”

“You are safe now.” Gabe looked over my head and behind me and smiled.

I followed his gaze, turned, and found Jesus standing face to face with me.

THE END

Posted in Fiction

The Cross’s Key: Chapter 1 (a Snippet)

The following text is from my new novel, The Cross’s Key


Voices quarreled, shouted, cried, prayed. It culminated Kyle’s conscious, as he lay face down on the dusty ground. Voices drew near. Kyle slid his eyes open. Dust blew by and caught in his lashes causing hi to blink a few times. He lifted his head, pushed his torso up, and lumbered to his knees. Sitting on his heals, he checked out his surroundings.

The sight before him took his breath away, and he was glad he was on his knees, or he would’ve ended up on them anyway. Although he remained at a distance, the horror before him grabbed his gut. There before him…..

Posted in Poetry

Life’s Pool by L. M. Montes

Floating eyes moved side to side,
gazing in world filled wonder,
but when a hand prayed to abide,
the heart ran off to yonder.

Needles pointed inward,
stabbed the brain toward death,
the heart continued wayward,
and stole the lungs of breath.

Waves of goodness swept and swayed,
life’s ups and downs they fought,
then One above heard all I prayed,
in snares I wasn’t caught.

Posted in Fiction

Choosing a Genre

Whether you are writing a book or reading one, you’re choosing a genre.

  • Genre: The dictionary definition of genre is as follows “A class or category of artistic endeavor having a particular form, content, technique, or the like:” It involves, “a kind, category, or sort, esp. of literary or artistic work.”

Nonfiction, fiction, and poetry are the three main literary genres, but there are many subgenres within each of these three. I’m going to pick on fiction and list some of these subgenres below.

  • horror
  • mystery
  • fantasy
  • legend
  • thriller
  • science fiction
  • crime
  • romance

Let’s say you want to write a short story, but you don’t know which kind you want to write. Well, what interests you the most? If you are an avid reader of fantasy fiction, then chances are you’re familiar with that subgenre. In that case choosing fantasy would be best. But what if you wanted to challenge yourself and write in a subgenre you are not familiar with? Then choose one outside your comfort zone. If you do that, make sure you do your homework and read a few books or short stories in that unfamiliar subgenre and do some reading up on it. Trust me, they all have their particular rules one must adhere to when writing in them.

There is no hard and fast rule when it comes to choosing a genre. It really is up to you and what your goals are.

Posted in Poetry

Peace by L. M. Montes

Stillness rages through the blood,
it doesn’t pump but floats along,
idly waving angst goodbye,
and resting hearts in calmness.

Nothing wages in my mind,
no lightning struck its worry down
to caste problems’ electric current
through the veins of life’s dark night,
only peace has struck its might.

So here in canyons looking down,
I hear an echo of yesterday’s taunts,
now, melted, broken ice,
warmth slid its soft feathers ’round me,
soothing lofty love of life’s kind gestures
upon the tranquil pillow of my soul.

Posted in Social

Pretend

When I was a kid, my sister and I would play pretend all the time. I loved those times because we didn’t have a care in the world. We didn’t have the responsibility of grown ups yet. The freedom to dream stuff up while we played brought about so much enjoyment. Then as we grew older our interests changed (obviously). I remember, too, as a kid, not wanting to grow up because it meant taking on responsibilities outside of being fun. I think many of you can relate. Then, when I did get older, I wanted those not so fun responsibilities. Why? Because it meant a whole different kind of fun. But the pretend didn’t go away. Not really. It changed course by coming in the form of story telling and poetry writing.

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Writing fiction and creating poetry gave me that same playful satisfaction that playing pretend as a child had. But not everyone writes. We’re all different and, therefore, we enjoy different things. I have one friend who loves to fish and goes on fishing expeditions by himself. It’s a time for him to relax and regroup. Plus it gives that time to allow his mind to take in the beauty of where his is. If feeds his soul.

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What is your pretend time? What is your enjoyment? If you don’t have anything that frees up your mind and body from the day’s stressors, find something. If you can’t figure out what that something is, try different things. For me, as mentioned above, it’s my writing.

Posted in Poetry

Moving On by L. M. Montes

As I saunter toward the river’s path,
a gentle breeze tickles my cheek and pass by,
floating, billowing, wafting about
and circling back while picking up scents
of violets teetering side to side.

I halt at the hint of violet upon the breeze,
wondering if the scent will carry itself back to me,
but no, it’s not to come to pass again,
just freshness, newness, playfulness of life
introduces itself to me with every step and passing breath.