You saw me running along the road, you watched as friends, strangers, everyone passed me by. You stopped. You started walking, told me to slow down, said there was no rush. You began telling me about this world I’d fallen into, you taught me how to survive it. When I was strong enough, big enough, you helped me get a faster mode of getting around. Then you rode with me.
When you couldn’t hang out, you still talked. All the time you would send me messages. Asking about my day, asking if I was ok. And when I asked the same you would always tell me, I’m good, nothing gets me down. You took me to new places in the world, taught me how to make it through, it never occurred to me that you were teaching me more than just our little world.
I heard you and your wife split up. She thought you were spending too much time in the world we shared. The others that wandered there with us tried to make light of it, as did you. I found you by our tree and we talked for hours. You told me some of the other reasons she left, that this world was not the only one you would get distracted by. Your wife understood your desire to be in this world, to help me. She understood that without your help I would have long left not only this world but the one they call “real life”. She and I had spoken about the darkness that had fallen upon me, about the end of my heart. She believed me when I said you had saved me. She did not begrudge me your time, but there were so many others demanding it that she felt she was lost in the crowd. She may have been right, she may not have been, but you never spoke badly of her after she left, and would allow no one else to do so. We spoke about it once only, after that you declared yourself “fine” and moved on.
We spoke less as time went by. Your job took you away from our world more and more. But you would show up once in a while and my message would read “Hey girl” and my evening would lighten, my thoughts improve, the weight of my world would lift from my shoulders, and I would smile. Always. We would talk, a lot, or barely at all, but knowing you were near made everything better. You would catch up to me in the darkest, furthest reaches of our world, and cause them to be filled with light as we hunted our prey. Nothing, no one stood a chance when you were with me.
You became silent. No entries into our world, so I messaged you in the daily world. “Are you ok? I miss you.” You told me you were a little sick, that other worlds were too draining right now but that you’d be back to run with me soon. You promised. I went to your funeral today. You didn’t come back. You left us all.
My heart aches, I can still hear you giving me shit as you laugh when you realized that I had wanted a pet like yours and so did not have one yet. I was too little to have your pet and would have no other until I was big enough. You gave me such a bad time; you showed me where to find one similar to yours but that I could get being so little. I still have him, you helped me get him and so I will always have him. I’ve run the old paths, fought the old fights, returned to the beginning and found a pet like yours. I’ve named him after you so that you will remain, at least in some form, in our world.
You’ll never see this, most that know you will never see this. But I needed to say the words. I miss you, I love you, I will remember you, for always, forever, my JB. ❤



Paul Sampson

When I offered to do this, I had no idea what it was I was offering to do. I know big surprise. Someone says “Hey do this to help Paul” and I sign up before I even know what I’m doing. That being said, I then requested some guidance. I was told that I could write about Night of the Templar (NOTT), I could write purely about Paul, I could write whatever I wished so long as there was a way to tie it to NOTT.  Well now…that gave me more leeway that I knew what to do with. After some serious thought I came up with an idea. I decided that I would simply write what I thought about Paul (that I am willing to say out loud that is). After all, anything to do with him was bound to tie in to NOTT as well. Or not…but I thought it was worth a shot 😉

So let’s begin with Paul. The first time I met him on Twitter, I had no idea who he was. I was told this guy throws great Twitter parties. I had no idea what a Twitter party was. I’d been online only a week or so at that point so as all good little girls do, I did what I was told. They were right, the man was fun to talk to, had a great sense of humour, and an imagination that totally blew me away. Of course they were also telling me how hot he was but I only had Twitter on my phone and it wasn’t showing me any pictures at that point. I promised myself I would look him up when I got home and then promptly forgot. Now don’t misunderstand, he made a strong impression. But at times I have a memory like a sieve and well that seems to have been one of those times. I of course remembered the next time he came online the following week and I went to look him up after he logged off.

The first picture I saw of Paul was the same one he uses on Twitter, primarily because, as I was heading home to look him up, my phone updated and all of a sudden, there he was. What I noticed immediately were his eyes. And to be honest it was all I was going to notice for a while. Look at this picture and tell me that his eyes don’t hold yours.


Later I found other pictures, in particular some rather sexy ones. But if you ask Paul about them he will tell you it’s all Photoshop, or in the case of his eyes, contacts. I don’t really believe him but I’ll admit it makes me laugh when he says it. One must remember though, as good looking as the man is, it’s not what he’s about. He’s a chameleon. He is so striking and yet when you see him in a variety of roles you will find yourself doing a double take simply because you can’t believe it’s him. A friend introduced me to his character Shamus, from the short “Clown” directed by Tate Steinsiek, and I was amazed that the scary ass clown on the screen was Paul. If you compare the picture above with the picture of Shamus, you’ll understand my confusion.


The next item on my agenda was to actually watch NOTT. Being in Canada I was unable to find it at Wal-Mart or some of the other places I normally buy my movies. I was able to buy it off of Amazon however and was rather impatiently waiting for it’s arrival. As soon as it arrived it was in the player and on my screen. In the movie Paul plays not simply one character but two, very different men. As Jake McCalister, he is a peaceful, laid back, easy going kind of guy. You get the impression that, although people can disappoint him, he barely has even a cross word for anyone. Then there is Lord Gregoire. He is full of fire, passion, and completely dedicated to his cause. He fights, he kills, but he mourns the loss of each soul. Although the two men look similar, there are obvious differences which become less pronounced as the movie progresses. (If you’ve seen it you know what I am referring to. If you haven’t, why not?)

As for the movie itself I must be honest. It was the first indie film I had ever knowingly watched. I had no idea what I was in for. I was expecting a Hollywood style film and so was confused to begin with. Indie films are so much different, so much more in some ways. Because it is an Indie Paul had more control as to how things looked, what direction they went it, and what we would eventually see on our screens. As I stated earlier the man has a very vivid imagination and it drew me in. The first time I watched it was almost like skimming a book. I caught all the big things but the more subtle scenes, characters, and dialog sort of drifted softly against my mind. They left an impression but it was almost invisible. As I’ve watched it again (several times, and no I won’t say how many times so stop asking me) these softer, less pronounced moments have left their mark. Each time I’ve watched, some things have become more…there, less hidden. It’s not that they’ve suddenly had a spotlight shone upon them, it’s as if I am made aware of their impact on the movie as a whole. Should you ask some of my friends they might tell you that I watch it purely for one scene in particular but, as much as I love it, I do eventually un-pause the movie and continue on.  😉

BRMFCLyCMAEq8Jj.jpg large

Oh! Are you still here? Sorry I may have gotten a little distracted…my apologies.

Overall, so far as NOTT is concerned, I find that as my first Indie film it was a great choice. It drew me in, it introduced me to some folks that I am happier for having met, and it showed me what a real imagination is capable of.

In regards to Paul Sampson? The man amazes me. He is imaginative, brilliant, funny, and talented. His look, his voice, his bearing, all change with the role he plays, although I must say that I even find that scary ass clown to be rather sexy. I am looking forward to seeing and experiencing what he comes out with next. I may not know what form it will take but it will be an adventure, and in the end that’s why I watch movies in the first place. Thank you Paul.

Crimson Duchess

It Begins

Light in my eyes. Bright, obscene, enraging. I preferred the shadows, the darkness, the total absence of light that I had been living in. But no, they had to drag me out. Kicking, screaming, begging to be let free. Now I am here. Stuck. Tied to a chair, the light shining on me, on my eyes, into my soul.

She will be free, she will be whole again, she will cease her unwanted behaviour. They want to make me who I was. Once, long ago, I was her. They loved her. But she was only a part of me. Slowly we became one, when they weren’t looking. We became me.

There were once several of us. The different faces for different situations, different people. Not separate personalities per se, more like separate masks. They miss the mask they knew. They don’t seem to realize that behind it was always me.

She was the first mask. The first one I created. The first one I had to be to fit in, to keep them unaware. It worked for so long that I forgot myself. I was her. I was hidden even from myself. For years I was other. Other masks over the one that was her. They hid even her from the outside world, from the ones that would hurt her.

And then he came. He stripped away all the other masks, washed away all the other paint. All that remained was her, and me. He did not know about me. He thought that she was all there was. He wanted someone that wasn’t her though. He wanted more of me. He didn’t know what he was asking for.

He thought that he was adding to her, he was stripping more and more away. He wanted a woman to do his bidding. He gained a woman that knew how to anticipate his needs, his wants, his every desire. He wanted a woman that would not question his orders, his requests, his decisions. He did not see that he gained a woman that saw everything, I had no need to question, I knew I was going to make him pay.

I tried to simply let him go. I grew tired of being hurt and so I gave it one last try to just let him walk away. It hurt so much to watch him walk away but I knew that all that remained between me and the rest of the world was the smallest part of my mask. I tried to rebuild her, I truly did. I needed her. She was all that kept me safe from the world. She was all that kept the world safe from me.

I did all I could to build her back up. But he kept trying to come back into my life. Every time he tried to strip more away. He kept taking what was rebuilt. And with every bit he took, he took a little more. My only way to survive was to take what was left of her and merge her in with myself. I didn’t know what would happen.

I blocked every access to me that I knew still remained. I ran. I hid. I tried to no longer exist as far as he would know. But still he found me. He used a path I forgot existed, one I could not close. He found me in the morning, and through the day he reminded me that I was his. He told me that I had no one else. He told me no one else would even notice if I was no longer around. He told me that I had no choice, that I was still, and would always be, his.

Did you know that when the only good remaining in you is under attack that the rest of you will defend it? I tried to bolster my light, I made my calls. Again I was without support. No one that would understand was there. The only one I could find I could not confide in, he would kill for me. I would die for him. And so I did the only thing I could.

I took the remainder of my light, I let my darkness engulf it, surround it, absorb it.  I saw her in my eyes, the new me, the fully integrated me. I watched as the light withdrew, hid. I watched as the crimson grew, became vibrant, filled my eyes, my heart. I would guard the light, save it for those that deserved it.

Within a few days I did as I was requested, I went to see him. I allowed him to touch me. I permitted his kiss. I welcomed his taste. When he was no longer watchful, when he allowed his walls to rest, when his cock was buried deep inside of me, I made him pay. I gently stroked his cheek, a move he was accustomed to from me. As my thumbs slid down I adjusted my course and pressed them deep into his eyes. As I did, I locked my legs around his thighs, he could not back away, he could not pull out, his cock was deep inside of me and I felt it harden with the pain before the rest of his body reacted.


When he could not see, as he opened his mouth to scream, I pulled my daggers from beneath the pillows. One was stabbed through his throat, blood sprayed over my hot, sweaty body. The other slid between our bodies and removed what connected us. I released my legs, he flew backwards, I felt his cock slip from my pussy, the blood pouring over my legs. I stepped over to him, I removed my dagger from his throat, more blood, I was coated in it. I stood and watched him as he died. The last words he heard was my nearly silent goodbye.

Bloody Woman

I suppose I would have gotten away with it had I thought before I left. A naked, blood coated woman tends to attract attention after all. They decided that his harassment of me had caused me to snap. So now I am here. Sitting in the light as they discuss what they think should be done. I know what I have to do to gain my freedom. I will build her back up. She will return, in a fashion. She will be simply a mask again though. The portions of her that they search for, that they believe count, the light is no longer. No one will see it again. But the mask, the mask will return.


I will remain. There are others out there, others that hurt, others that must pay. And I will be there.

Crimson Duchess

(With thanks to Emory & Crimson Princess for the pictures)


Slowly he moves,

gliding around the corner.

Silently he stalks her.

She is unaware of his presence,

she does not know she is followed.

She walks through the house,

tossing her keys onto the table,

he watches them as they land.

Her purse gets hung on the chair,

he brushes it softly as he passes by.


She walks into her bedroom,

her shirt, skirt and heels

are discarded without thought,

without concern.

This is her place after all,

there should be no one else here.

He sits on the bed  and softly touches her shirt

as he hears the water begin in the shower.

He hears her pull back the curtain,

the interruption in the stream signaling

that she is in the water now.

open door

He listens for a moment more

then he is at the door.

He slips quietly into the already foggy washroom.

He steps around her under things

laying discarded on the floor.

Her towel is sitting on the counter,

he touches it gently as he moves

closer to the curtain.

He reaches out slowly,

grasps the edge of the curtain

pulls it just a little ways open.


She screams.

He gets soaked

her sudden movement

sprays water everywhere.

She laughs as her cat bolts down the hall.


Crimson Duchess


I opened my eyes and saw you.

Nothing else, just you.

Again. Always.

Without change,

without end,

without reason.

I closed my eyes.


I drifted.

Heard nothing.

Felt nothing.

Saw nothing.

But I felt you,

your presence,


I slept.



Warmth on my face.

I try to burrow back

into my dreams.

Where you are.




I can’t stand it anymore.

The world is gray,


without life,

without love.


Without you.


So many pills.

I take them, all of them.

I lay upon my bed.

I close my eyes.

I feel nothing,

weak, tired,


without you.


I open my eyes.




Crimson Duchess

Personal Awakening

Ok let’s get this out there. I have been a bad Duchess. For the last couple of weeks, ok more like the last month, I have found myself stumped. Unable to focus on one thing alone I have been jumping between several different projects or simply allowing myself to get totally overwhelmed and so writing not one word. There are those of you that write every day, and always I feel honoured to be given the opportunity to read what you put out there. I will admit though, that there are times I feel totally out classed (give me a sec Keeper please before you get upset with me). Now I have mentioned this before, hence the aside to our Keeper there. But I think you all understand what I am saying, and I am fairly certain we have all felt this way. I do have a point I promise.

Because I’ve been feeling this way, even though Keeper told me not to be an idiot (paraphrasing!), I began pulling back, slipping back into my cubby. I’m been talking to everyone but only when spoken to, or at least mainly. And when I’ve made an attempt and gotten no reply, I decided that it just proved my point. (No Keeper I am not referring purely to you I promise.) Then the other night I felt as if everyone that I love had let me down. Now before anyone gets defensive or upset, finish reading please. Normally when someone lets me down, in any manner, I simply step back, sigh quietly to myself, and move on. It hurts but I tuck it away inside. I pull back from the one(s) that hurt me, sometimes I will eventually walk away completely. But please keep in mind, I do not permit myself to blow up, rage, freak out, whatever you wish to call it. When it comes to someone I care about, I might say something but still not in the style in which I reacted the other night.

Now originally this was going to be an apology, I was going to explain where my head has been the last month, apologize for flipping out, and fade quietly away when no one was looking. I felt that I would be able to quietly close out Twitter, FB, anything under the Siara name and that not one person would even notice. I had plans to do so over the course of the next couple of weeks and by the end of February Siara would be no more. I will say I did make an attempt to talk to someone about it but *shrug* life interfered and I could not reach the person I was trying to call.

And then a couple of odd things happened within an hour of each other. The first was a private message I received on Twitter. It was from someone I believe I’ve spoken to maybe a half a dozen times. We follow each other but we don’t know each other, if that makes sense. I used to say goodnight every night before I would log. I stopped when it seemed to me that no one was reading it anyway so what was the point. A couple of times in the last week I have felt compelled to do so. Last night, I said “Goodnight my loves, dream well, dream strong, & no matter what remember there is always somewhere you belong, someone that loves you *hugs*” Now it’s nothing unusual. I’ve said similar things in the past. However I received a message from this man this morning telling me something that amazed me. He told me that he had left his Twitter up last night and his daughter saw my goodnight. I guess they’ve had a rough couple of months and she was feeling worse than even he knew. She was heading back to her room with a bottle of pills. I’m certain I don’t have to explain. She saw my post and for some reason it struck a chord. When he came back in the room she was crying, handed him the bottle, and they talked all night. I have never been so absolutely at a loss in how to respond. I felt very stupid when I replied “I really don’t know what to say. Please give her a hug for me and make certain you get one as well *hugs*” I had a feeling of overwhelming awe and it has taken me the bulk of the day to try to even put it into words. I’m still not able to explain fully the impact this not only had but is still having on me right now.

While I was still reeling I got a phone call. I have recently updated everyone with my new number and a friend had passed it along to another old friend. He and I haven’t spoken in years. We had a disagreement about something that I can no longer even recall (ok well I think I can but if that was the reason it was dumb as hell). He told me that he found me a little while back on Twitter, to which I of course said, I’m sorry? He told me that he follows me on Twitter and that he didn’t know it was me until he clicked on a link to one of my stories. He said he read it, and then proceeded to scroll back to the beginning and start there. He once knew me nearly as well as I did so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised he figured it out. He said my writing has grown up since he read anything last, and that he can see it progressing still. And then he asked me why there’s been nothing much for the last bit. So I explained my issues, that I don’t feel as if I’m any good, that I feel totally outclassed, that I have felt so out of touch with everything for the last little bit. He told me to stop. He said “When we were just little brats, driving our siblings nuts, I knew your imagination was immense.” The gist of the conversation was that I needed to stop trying so hard. I told him what our Keeper said and he told me that I need to use the tension I am feeling, turn it into one of the stories like when we were little. When we were kids his dad was a drunk and was abusive. I would go with him for walks and make up stories to make him laugh, to distract him, to amuse, and entertain him. So all that being said, I am shelving my other stories for the next week. I will go back to them, some need to be told after all. But for the next week I will be doing nothing but random imaginings, they might not make any sense to anyone but me, but I will still share if you wish.

After all of this today though I had some thinking to do. I’ve been giving everyone this advice; we all mess up, we all make mistakes. Everyone one of us has looked at something we’re meant to be doing and said meh, not today. The problem isn’t that you’ve put it off, the problem occurs when you continue to do so. And I realized that I need to take my own advice. I was going to apologize for getting upset with everyone the other night but I’ve realized if I don’t tell you all what I’m thinking, how are you to know? If I walk away, if I run back into my darkest corners, how will anyone know me well enough to know when I want to hide? I’ve been putting off opening myself up to this family. I’ve been outgoing, chatty, open about some things, and been showing my love. But I’ve kept a large part of myself away. There are some things I will admit upfront that I will never, can never share. But from now on I am here, fully, completely, and in for the long haul. I said before that I would not walk away, what I hadn’t said was that I could be pushed away. Now, you can try.

One last thought. Keeper, I need to feel of use to the River. If you or one of the Horsemen could please give me a task it would be greatly appreciated.

You are my family, you are my heart. My love to you all.

Crimson Duchess


I could feel you, my eyes were closed, blindfolded, but my other senses were flooded by you. Your hands trailing slowly down my body, your breath hot against my neck. I could feel your erection pressing against me, eager for entrance, but you would not, you teased, pressing yourself against me tightly. My hands could not touch you, they were bound; all I could feel was the soft silk against my fingers, wrapped around my wrists, tightly. I could not speak, I was gagged, more silk, soft against my lips but preventing my words. I felt your lips as they kissed my face, my neck, down over my shoulders and chest, my breasts were treated to kisses, nibbles, bites….and then you moved on. Your hands stroking my skin, touching me everywhere they could reach, and there was nowhere free from their touch. Everywhere your hands travelled so too did your lips, your mouth, that ever so talented tongue. I wanted to cry out, to scream, to beg you for release. You heard my whimpers, you slid down my body and your tongue was on my clit, sucking, flicking, stroking. Your fingers dove inside of me, you brought me so close that I felt as if I would explode if you continued! You slowed, you stopped, I could not help myself, I tried again to beg you but again all you heard was my whimpers, my moans. You understood though, and I felt your cock teasing me again. I could not move my feet, bound as tightly as my hands, but I could lift my hips and so I did begging without words this time. You ever so gently, so very slowly, slid your cock inside of my pussy. You whispered no when I moved, and so I laid perfectly still as you filled me slowly with your length. I could not prevent my moan when you filled me completely, your groin against me. You leaned in, removed my gag and kissed me. The gag back where it was you began to move. Slowly at first, then faster, your hands preventing my movement, the gag preventing any sounds beyond my moans. It didn’t take long before you were pounding into me, hard, fast, intense, just as I needed. And then, oh god then….


I hate fucking alarms…

Crimson Duchess