Excluding the First Letter

I’ve written this entire thing without using the first letter–it was both difficult and simple, depending on my word choices for my sentences. I hope everyone enjoys this entry!

 

Dirty hovels. No life inside. Terrible torture.  Fervent questioning. The dim horizon filled with emptiness. To see without, while nursing misery within—the cruelest of the consequences. Words to not come, the sentences incomplete, the struggle more true with every exceeded moment. How do you cope with those demented little thoughts trying to corrupt your struggling mind? You don’t. You longingly enfold the foolishness into your soul—you love it, nurture it; you whisper your whys to the empty, unfeeling, sky. But don’t fret. This experiment will only endure for minutes, not lifetimes. Following this exercise, the first letter returns.

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Alizabeth Lynn Author

First of all, I’m a cat. No, really—everyone who’s ever met me agrees I must be. I prefer sleeping in sunlight, hogging the keyboard, and refilling my plate before it’s anywhere near empty. When I’m pretending to be human, however, I write paranormal romance, fantasy, and a bit of horror. My style of romance is a bit on the light side, but some of the violence is almost as bad as trying to tame a wild pride of lions—bloody, disfiguring, and out-of-control. I’ve been writing for as long as I can remember, and even still have the very first poem I ever wrote, which was around the age of six. I’ve been included in two anthologies, Nightmares: In Writer’s Retreat, and Cancer Sucks! which both came out in October, 2015, and my first novel, Crimson Bayou, the first book in the Things that go Bump in the Bayou series, was released March 8, 2016 through Burning Willow Press. A Northwest Louisiana native, I currently reside in West Texas with my loving fiancé. The wonderful man in question works his tush off so that I can stay home with our two children and follow my dream of authorship. However, when I’m not following my dreams, or reverting to my natural feline form, I can be found with my nose buried in a book, or up to my neck in dirty diapers. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

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