Happy Halloween 2022

In my past few Halloween posts, I wrote about the origin of ‘All Hallow’s Eve’ and the legend of ‘Jack-o-Lantern’. Today I will take another path down history lane. Let’s find out where the superstition about black cats being bad luck comes from, shall we?

Origins of Black Cat Superstitions

The connections between humans and cats can be traced back to some of the world’s earliest civilizations, most notably, ancient Egypt, where cats were considered divine symbols. Cats also made an appearance in Greek mythology, specifically Hecate, goddess of magic, sorcery, the moon, and witchcraft, was described as having a cat as both a pet and a familiar (a supernatural creature that assists a witch, according to European folklore).

Written records link black cats to the occult as far back as the 13th century when an official church document called “Vox in Rama” was issued by Pope Gregory IX on June 13, 1233. “In it, black cats were declared an incarnation of Satan,” says Layla Morgan Wilde, author of Black Cats Tell: True Tales And Inspiring Images. “The decree marked the beginning of the inquisition and church-sanctioned heretic and/or witch hunts. Initially, it was designed to squash the growing cult of Luciferians in Germany, but quickly spread across Europe.”

Cats and Witches Seen as Threats to Early Christian Church

A Halloween postcard from the early 1900s featuring a witch, a black cat and spirits.
A Halloween postcard from the early 1900s featuring a witch, a black cat and spirits.Transcendental Graphics/Getty Images

In addition to their early association with Satan, cats became inextricably linked to witches in medieval Europe. According to Cerridwen Fallingstar, Wiccan priestess and author of Broth from the Cauldron: A Wisdom Journey through Everyday Magic, witches were the pre-Christian pagan practitioners of Europe.

Although the early Christian church in Europe coexisted with witches, as the church gained power, she says that they saw witches as their direct competition in gaining the hearts and minds of the people. That’s when the church began hunting, persecuting, torturing, and killing witches in vast numbers, she explains.

“Witches honored the natural world, having a deep respect for plants and animals,” says Fallingstar. “Affection between human and animal, therefore, began to be seen as ‘diabolical’, or devilish, and the old lady with her cats became seen as suspect.”

But it wasn’t only the connection they fabricated between witches, cats, and the devil that the early Christians feared: they also saw them both as threats. “Cats, like the women accused of witchcraft, tend to exhibit a healthy disrespect of authority,” she notes. “They don’t fawn, like dogs, upon even the unworthy. In the church, neither independent women nor independent animals were to be tolerated.”

At some point, the pairing of witches with cats narrowed to black cats, although Fallingstar says it’s not entirely clear why that happened. “The relationship between witches and black cats in particular is probably imaginary, but it is possible that black cats make better mousers since they cannot be seen at night and therefore have a hunting advantage,” she explains. “Witches do tend towards the practical.”

Eventually, the fear surrounding black cats and their association with witchcraft made its way across the Atlantic, courtesy of Puritan colonists, says Daniel Compora, associate professor of English language and literature at The University of Toledo. “The idea that witches could turn into their familiar likely evolved from those accused of witchcraft having cats as pets,” he explains.

Cats Blamed for Spreading the Plague

During the Middle Ages, it wasn’t uncommon for cats to be killed, given their association with evil, Compora says. Some people even went as far as blaming cats for spreading the Bubonic plague and used that as another reason to get rid of them. However, their ill-conceived plan backfired.

“In a particularly bizarre piece of irony, the killing of the cats helped fuel the spread of the plague,” Compora explains. “With the reduced number of cats to control the rodent population, the disease spread rapidly.”

(Source: https://www.history.com/news/black-cats-superstitions)

Of course, those of you who know me, are also aware that I have a cat, Tjara, a beautiful 11-year-old Maine Coon cat. She’s gorgeous, proud, wonderful, occasionally cuddly, and very focused on me. And it happens, of course, that she’s pitch-black. And no, I’m definitely not a witch! (LOL)


After all that information now, let’s celebrate Halloween with some known ‘goosebumps’!

Thank you very much for all your support of ‘Writer’s Treasure Chest’ and my writing! I really appreciate it!

I wish you and your families:

Picture courtesy of “LovethisPic.com”

Changes In Life

Picture courtesy of Google.com

A few years ago I made a life changing decision, to move away from my known life and start somewhere else. I was called everything from ‘a little nuts’ to ‘completely insane’. Some people took the liberty to inform me that ‘at my age’ I better ‘enjoy the rest of my life’ instead of making drastic mistakes, and they had considered me to be wiser.

Well, guess what? I’m my own person, and this is my life. Sometimes I learn from my mistakes, and this wasn’t one of them. Who could have foreseen the pandemic? It started about half a year after my big move. This didn’t work out as planned, and life blew me forward, through the South to the East and then up North…

Since Mid January I have had a ‘temporary life on hold’, I was going through many changes, some expected, and some just heading my way to save my sorry butt from bad things happening.

I learned a few things:

  1. I’m still up for an adventure
  2. I’m still as resilient as I ever was
  3. I’m facing life and the world head on, no matter what
  4. You’re never too old for changes
  5. Without the most wonderful friends and a generous and caring sibiling, I wouldn’t be where I am now (And do you have the feeling too, that this should make the top of the list? Let me re-phrase then…)
  1. Without the most wonderful friends and a generous and caring sibiling, I wouldn’t be where I am now
  2. I’m still up for an adventure
  3. I’m still as resilient as I ever was
  4. I’m facing life and the world head on, no matter what
  5. You’re never too old for changes

I was looking for a quote about life changes, like this one, from Buddha:

Picture courtesy of therandomvibez.com

It is inspirational and eye opening, but it doesn’t ‘catch’ exactly what I want to say. Changes are coming your way, no matter what you planned. Sometimes they’re for the better, sometimes they’re not. But they all, each one of them, is an opportunity to learn and to grow – and also one to sound the depth within yourself. When I found Henry Stanley Haskins’ quote instead, I felt, that this one is much better suited for today’s blog post.

Tiny matters are what lies behind me, and tiny matters are what lies ahead of me? Not quite… after all, my past is what made me who I am now, and I still have a future ahead, no matter what my critics say… But figuratively speaking, I doubt very much this is what Henry Stanley Haskins meant. What he wanted to show is the ‘comparison’ between what’s behind, what’s ahead – and what’s within us… and that ‘within me’ was definitely what I was re-introduced to, in the past, almost 9 months.

I found ‘things’ that I had missed without knowing that I missed them, ‘things’, that were missing in action and presumed dead, things I haven’t heard very often lately… And I found a few things I had thought I’d lost somewhere…

Of course, we’re talking about my emotional state, feelings… long buried emotions… I might have re-found my inner soothing voice, my believing in the good that will happen, my believing in life and how to enjoy it again… I might have found more resilience deep inside of me, and a patience I never believed I had. Also, I might have discovered a strength that I had believed buried below everything that blocked myself…

But most of all I found two things I had believed to be dead inside of me… love and hope…

And that’s why I picked this particular quote. What’s inside of you is far stronger, bigger, and more important than most of us can grasp.

What is it that you find in yourself, when you dig a bit deeper? You want to tell us? Leave a comment.

Henry Stanley Haskins

Haskins (1875–1957) was a stockbroker and man of letters. His aphorisms were edited and published anonymously with an introduction by Albert Jay Nock in 1940. Haskins was the author of “Mediations of Wall Street”. (Source: Wikiquote.org)

Wisdom About Creativity

Picture courtesy of Google.com

This quote is as much true as it is funny. Of course, when we’re on a deadline, most of us will ‘suddenly’ get more and more creative, the closer we get to the deadline. Of course, there are some of us whose nature is similar to the one of Douglas Adams who famously said: “I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by.”

But I would say, most of us work hard to keep deadlines, and the shorter the time, the more the pressure grows. Some writers need that pressure, and some others won’t be able to write a word under it.

It started in school already, when we had to study for a test, didn’t it? Some students were the ones who studied every day, to internalize all the knowledge, while others, me included, allegedly studied ‘better’ the higher the pressure and tension. (You could also say, we just really didn’t want to waste any more time studying, as we had to and rather enjoyed doing whatever we found more enjoyable and interesting than working for the school.

Later on, in my professional life, there was no ‘flying by deadline’… If that would have happened more than once in my career, the very same would have been over faster than I could have apologized.

Now, setting my own deadlines when it comes to writing, I am very determined to keep them. It’s absolutely impossible to be successful in writing without keeping deadlines, be they set up by us or by the publisher, or literary agent, or, who else has the right to pressure us to move our pen for work.

Bill Watterson has it right… creativity cannot be turned on and off like a faucet. I cannot ‘decide’ to be creative on a Thursday, and not so creative on Saturday. Bill Watterson had his own deadlines, and being a phenomenal creative writer and famous comic illustrator, he knew what ‘last minute panic’ meant.

My creativity nudges me gently when it’s time to write books. But it’s not always there when I’m supposed to write blog posts. That means, I’m taking notes, wherever I am and have an idea for a new blog post. This one, actually, showed up while I was working on my newsletter!

I’m always anxious to keep my readers interested and therefore want to make sure that I’m publishing my posts on time and keeping them diversified and on time. Blogs are not followed if the posts are not showing up, and I have invested a lot to keep ‘Writer’s Treasure Chest’ up and running. Now I would like to build a stable fan base for my books and blog. So, no lack of deadlines for me.

How do you keep creative? What do you do if you have the feeling your creativity isn’t flowing? And what do you do to tickle your muse? Let us know in the comments, we’re curious!


About Bill Watterson

William Boyd Watterson II (born July 5, 1958) is a retired American cartoonist and the author of the comic strip Calvin and Hobbes, which was syndicated from 1985 to 1995. Watterson stopped drawing Calvin and Hobbes at the end of 1995, with a short statement to newspaper editors and his readers that he felt he had achieved all he could in the medium. Watterson is known for his negative views on comic syndication and licensing, his efforts to expand and elevate the newspaper comic as an art form, and his move back into private life after he stopped drawing Calvin and Hobbes. Watterson was born in Washington, D.C., and grew up in Chagrin FallsOhio. The suburban Midwestern United States setting of Ohio was part of the inspiration for Calvin and Hobbes.

(Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bill_Watterson)

On a Side Note:

Needless to say that I absolutely ADORE Calvin and Hobbes and am a fan of Bill Watterson’s work.

Picture courtesy of Google.com


Dear Readers and Followers

On the first day of autumn 2022, I decided to give the first book in ‘The Council of Twelve’ series, Soul Taker, ebook for free for one month!


Click the link here: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/911964

After long years in the line of duty as a ‘Soul Taker’, Kate is worn out.

When she gets a new job offer from the ‘Powers Above’, she accepts her new job as a Guardian gratefully without knowing that her teacher is one of the most powerful beings in existence, the Archangel Raphael.

Along with Raphael, she takes on her new task and the connection between them grows.

Raphael helps, protects, and supports Kate, but suddenly, she becomes a target for the Demons of Hell.

Raphael realizes that Kate means more to him than he expected, which causes him to fight furiously against danger. If he fails, Kate’s future will contain eternal darkness, evil, and torture.

Use the coupon code


Enjoy the book, and I’d be grateful for a review… and if you fall in love with the characters, you will going to get the other three books in the series as well:

Sundance: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/953202

Demon Tracker: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1014830

Bounty Hunter: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1065921

Enjoy your read, and please, let me know, how you like the book!

A Divine Intervention 1981 (Centriel’s Past)

Centriel had ended a meeting with the ‘other side’, as he called them. He detested meetings with these guys in closed rooms. No matter what he did, it always took far too long to get rid of the stench.

Also, he felt the need to have something pure, innocent, and unique around him, and spontaneously decided to visit the afternoon show in a Swiss circus, touring the country at that time. He had met the animals there several times before, and they were always happy to see him.

Centriel had picked this particular circus for his visits. It wasn’t the biggest in the country, but the staff and crew treated the animals with respect and true care – mostly. Until this afternoon…

Centriel watched the show, giggled with the dog trainers, and enjoyed the artists flying through the dome. Then he went outside, and said hello to the three lions, the puma and the tiger, before he headed to the horses.

One of them showed him a swollen knee joint, which Centriel softy and slowly healed… The horse was grateful and nudged him a few times. The Archangel laughed. “You’re welcome.” He said. Unfortunately, one of the stable guys walked in just that moment and stood there, frozen in surprise. “Ho, ho! What are you doing in here? These tents and stables aren’t open to the public, man.”

Centriel smiled. “Calm down, boy. All is well. I’m not ‘the public’, and these horses and I are old friends.” The young man visibly calmed down hearing Centriel’s voice and feeling his open friendly behavior. Here was someone who treated him with respect, not like others, who considered stable guys generally dumb and useless. The young man introduced himself as ‘David’ and chatted happily with Centriel, without knowing who he was talking to.

“I’m a bit worried about Brutus’ knee.” David entrusted Centriel with his fears. “The poor boy has been limping for weeks, but our new stable master isn’t doing a thing about it. He doesn’t get the horse the vet care he needs. Even if he didn’t know what to do, he should have called a vet. But Hannes is a brutal giant, only interested that everything and everybody dances to his tune. He doesn’t shy away from using the whip on the horses, the pike on the big cats, and even the chain on the elephants. He claims to ‘know everything about animal training’ and behavior, and he can cure ‘minor injuries’, but seriously? I doubt he even knows where the horse’s knee is, let alone recognize it as unusually swollen…”

Centriel smiled. “Show me.” He asked the boy. David carefully approached Brutus, and talked to him in a calm and soothing manner, before bending down and looking at the leg. After touching it and making sure, he wasn’t hallucinating, David stood back up and turned to Centriel, his eyes were big.

“I saw you standing next to Brutus when I entered. Are you a vet?” Centriel smiled. “Sometimes.” He answered. David grinned. “Thank you, Sir. Thank you very much! Is there anything I have to do to make sure this doesn’t happen again, Doc?” Centriel hid a giggle but replied politely: “I see you know what you’re talking about and doing. You should bandage the knee for a few more days over some mashed potatoes from the fridge to keep the joint cool, and Brutus should be fine. It seemed to me he just exhausted his knee. Make sure he’ll take it easy for a while.”

A deep and oddly screechy voice replied from the entrance: “What’s that nonsense about a knee bandage? That horse is fine. He’s just lazy! But the whip will ‘cure’ him alright.” The man entered and swung his arm up. Centriel stepped forward and caught the man’s arm. “I strongly recommend you’ll retire that whip, man,” Centriel said. The man grinned stupidly and bared his brownish, brittle teeth. “Who wants to tell me what to do? You’re not giving me orders!” Centriel smiled widely. “Oh, yes, I do.” His grin showed the man, what the regular consumption of vegetables, a healthy lifestyle, and the use of a toothbrush and toothpaste twice a day can do.” Centriel softly explained: “I’ll slow it down for you since you’re obviously not the brightest bulb in the chandelier… I told you to retire that whip, which means, don’t you dare ever using it again, neither on the horses, nor on any other animal, here, or anywhere else. I have neither problems nor bad feelings about breaking your arm right here and now if that’s what is needed for you to follow my directions. Do you understand me now?”

The man nodded, suddenly pale. “Y… yes… I get it.” He swallowed. “I really do… you can let me go now.”

There must have been something in Centriel’s looks that scared the living daylights out of the man, but Centriel still hesitated to let go. He felt there would be consequences to what he just did… and he was right.

The man rubbed his wrist, and with heavy steps hasted out of the horse stables. David was as pale as a ghost when he carefully came out of the shadows. “Wow, Doc…. you really told him off. I hope very much that your speech will help the poor animals.” The two men smiled and talked about the other horses for a while when they suddenly heard noise from outside.

The sound of screaming, trampling, the panicking calls of men, the high-pitched trumpets of elephants, and the smell of danger made Centriel jump up and run outside, right into the path of a really angry ‘pachyderm’. The elephant’s trunk was high in the air, the chain and iron stake, to where she was tied were still hanging from her ankle, and she had literally walked over the brutal stable man, who still held on to a barbed iron staff.

Centriel stood as still as a wall, lowered his head, and unseen by the surrounding humans, he quickly unfolded his wings… The elephant stopped in her tracks. She still rocketed from the two front legs to the back ones and forward again, she was obviously in pain, and when she lowered her trunk, Centriel could see the blood dripping from a nasty wound.

He carefully stepped closer and softly talked to the elephant in a long-forgotten language… softly formed tones escaped his lips and seemed to soothe the animal. She permitted him to come closer. “I promise, my beauty, I’m not going to hurt you. I’ll make it better.” He promised.

It took a while, but slowly the bleeding stopped and the wound closed. It looked now as if it was treated days ago, rather than an open wound. The elephant was almost completely calm now. “I know, my girl,” Centriel told her. “You did a great job here, defending yourself and the family. Well done.”

He turned to the horribly injured man on the ground. “Didn’t I warn you?” The guy snorted. “… not a whip.” He gasped. Then he died. Behind Centriel another Archangel landed, unseen by the public. He chuckled. “Really, should I ever die, make sure my last words aren’t that dumb,” Gabriel said. Centriel shrugged. “Dumb brain, dumb last words.”

And then, calm and without regret, they watched the ‘Collectors’ from the other side, picking up the dark man’s graying soul to take it down, where it belonged.

Centriel sighed. “Really, I’m only glad he was the only one dead here today. It could have been worse.” Then he looked over to David. “That one will be a wonderful caretaker for these animals. And later on, might serve just as well for our side.” Gabriel smiled. “I think, you’re right. What a great, compassionate soul he has.”

Centriel briefly waved to David, walked around the elephant, and dissolved…

Picture courtesy of TripAdvisor.com

The Council Of Twelve A – Z / A For Anghariel

When it comes to writing, with four published books and the fifth in the series in line, I’m sometimes feeling a little bit like I need to keep things in my books a secret, fearfully protecting my books, because I could give away too much to the ones who haven’t read ‘The Council of Twelve’ series yet.

But aren’t the background stories, the little details ‘behind the scenes’ the interesting part of our work? There are numerous characters in these books, twelve of them the main pillars, carrying my stories.

Picture courtesy of Pixers.us

And that’s why I decided to start a new blog series about the Council of Twelve, going through the alphabet, starting with Anghariel…

Let me show you the notes I took before I started to write ‘The Council of Twelve’ series. On Anghariel’s character sheets it says:

Looks  Anghariel’s skin and hair were gray; his eyes were the purest silver. He is tall and slim, his muscle tone finely defined but not too visible. He moves elegantly like a tall cat, comparable to a cheetah    
WingsGrey, each feather surrounded by orange
PersonalityBubbly, humorous, playful personality. He’s a big practical joker and loves to play tricks
Special PowersWhat many don’t know is that Anghariel started as XXXXXXXXXXXX and has kept his abilities even when he became an Archangel. Additionally, Anghariel is, together with Centriel, one of the most virtuous and fast flyers amongst Angelkind.
ConsortDespite his unusual looks Anghariel is a huge women magnet and enjoys spending time with as many girlfriends as possible,XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX He hasn’t found his consort yet.
(Of course, the one or other information is X-ed out because I don’t want to give away too much information)

Now, Anghariel is an enormously strong individual, one of the younger members of ‘The Council of Twelve’, but nevertheless, powerful, compassionate, and helpful.

Anghariel has his quirks, but he’s also an Archangel and a member of ‘The Council’. Despite his bubbly nature, Anghariel has his depths and is highly sensitive. Not many know about his past, and outside of His Brotherhood, nothing is known about it.

Anghariel might be one of the few Archangels in existence, who suffers from PTSD after a severe traumatic event that turned him into the superficially laughing joking ‘buddy’ with the boyish grin. Still, deep inside, he considers himself ‘broken’.

I would recommend, starting to read the Council of Twelve series to find out more about these twelve powerful individuals and their consorts, their stories, and the eternal fight ‘Good vs. Evil’. You will fall in love with them all, I promise.

Soul Taker Secrets – Katie Goes South

Readers of ‘The Council Of Twelve’ series know that Katie, Guardian by trade, and Raphael’s consort loves to organize ‘family get-togethers’ where she cooks for the entire ‘Council of Twelve’ with their consorts (or at least, the ones who already have one). Now, Katie isn’t the best cook, to begin with, and her efforts are ‘unpredictable’ most of the time, to express it mildly. But her family loves her, and her friends help her as much as they can.

So it happens, that on occasion, the one or other family dinner succeeds, and Katie can be proud of her accomplishments. Those are the rare occasions she writes down the recipe and where she got it from. Like this one, for example:

Key West Chicken


  • ¼ cup lower-sodium tamari
  • 3 Tbsp. honey
  • 1 Tbsp. grated orange zest plus 1/4 cup fresh juice (from 2 oranges), plus wedges for serving
  • 1 Tbsp. grated lime zest plus 2 Tbsp. fresh juice (from 3 limes), plus wedges for serving
  • 1 Tbsp. canola oil
  • ½ tsp. fine sea salt
  • ½ tsp. black pepper
  • 1 large (1 1/2 oz.) shallot, finely chopped (1/4 cup)
  • 2 medium garlic cloves, minced (2 tsp.)
  • 4 (8-oz.) boneless, skinless chicken breasts, pounded 1/2-in. thick
  • Chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley


  1. Whisk together tamari, honey, orange zest, orange juice, lime zest, lime juice, oil, salt, pepper, shallot, and garlic in a large bowl. Add chicken, and toss to coat. Cover and chill until flavors meld, at least 30 minutes or up to 1 hour.
  2. Preheat grill to medium-high (400°F to 450°F). While grill preheats, remove chicken from marinade, and set chicken aside. Place marinade (about 3/4 cup) in a small saucepan; bring to a simmer over medium-high. Simmer, stirring occasionally, until reduced to 1/2 cup, 3 to 4 minutes. Remove from heat.
  3. Place chicken on oiled grates; grill, uncovered, turning and basting occasionally with marinade, until a thermometer inserted in thickest portion of chicken registers 165°F, 12 to 15 minutes. Transfer to a large plate; garnish with parsley, and serve with orange wedges and lime wedges.

(Source: https://www.southernliving.com/recipes/key-west-chicken)

Katie and the entire Council of Twelve with their consorts were delighted and loved this meal! Try it, and let me know how it is!

Picture courtesy of SouthernLiving.com

How’s The Weather In Your Story?

Picture courtesy of the ‘National Geographic Society’

Does it happen to you, that, writing a story, you have a scene in your head and try to describe what you’re currently seeing, you realize, the location, despite the nighttime and the darkness, is occasionally ‘enlightened’ by nature? Lighting bolds give your protagonist a quick, clear view of ‘the body’ in the alley. Thunderstorms often come with heavy rains, maybe it just started raining… So, what’s next? How do you describe the weather in your book, in your story, or in that particular scene?

I did quite some research about it and found, that some expert writers have blogged about it before. I therefore will lead you to their hard work:

The ‘Writers Write’ blog offers a post 101 Words To Describe Weather, written by Amanda Patterson

Worddreams shows an article, 160+ Ways To Describe Weather, written by Jacqui Murray

“Just Publishing Advice” offers a post “Describe The Weather In Writing With Much Better Vocabulary“, written by Derek Haines

I have my favorite, which I will permit myself to copy here: Bryn Donovan’s “Master List for Describing Weather”


blazing sunshine

fiery sun

fierce sun

glaring sun

baking in the sun


scorching heat

extravagant heat

relentless sun

muggy air

dank air

like a sauna



dense tropical heat


dusty heat

arid heat

radiating heat

blistering heat

oppressive heat

insufferable heat

suffocating heat

heat pressing down

searing sun

shimmering heat

like an oven

like a furnace


(“Pleasant” is a matter of opinion, of course.)

a beautiful day

a fine day

a clear day

a mild day

a temperate day

a golden day

a glorious day

heavenly weather

bright and sunny

a gorgeous spring day

a dazzling summer day

a brilliant autumn day

a vivid blue sky

a cloudless sky

fluffy white clouds

gentle sunshine

lazy sunshine

kind sunshine

filtered sunlight

dappled sunlight

welcome warmth

one of those rare, perfect days

the kind of day that made people forget to worry

the kind of day that lifted people’s moods


crisp air

refreshing air

stimulating cool air

invigorating cool air

bracing cool air

a nip in the air

a brisk day

a chilly day

weak sunshine

clammy air

damp air


(Most people don’t like gray days, so most of these descriptions are negative. I love them, so I had to add a few positive descriptions.)

bleak day

gloomy sky

dreary day

colorless sky

a soft gray sky

a dove-gray sky

a gray day made for books and tea

steel-gray sky

stony sky

granite sky

cement-gray sky

threatening clouds

foreboding clouds


frosty air

icy air

Arctic air

glacial air

bitter cold

brutal cold

cruel cold

bone-chilling cold

penetrating cold

devastating cold

numbing cold

punishing cold

dangerous cold

unforgiving cold

too cold to talk

so cold it burned one’s lungs

so cold it took one’s breath away


like a blast from a hair dryer

icy blast

a gust of wind

wild wind

raw wind

stiff wind

insistent winds

heavy winds

strong winds

cutting wind

whipping winds

biting wind

harsh wind

angry wind

wintry squall

violent gale

howling wind

shifting winds

restless wind


fresh breeze

soft breeze

balmy breeze

perfumed breeze

slight breeze

hint of a breeze

stirring breeze

wind rustling through the trees


fine drizzle

gray drizzle

pebbles of falling rain

spitting rain

stinging rain

steady rain

rain falling in torrents

cascades of rain



rain beating down

shower of rain

sheets of rain

hard-driving rain

pelting rain

lashing rain

slashing rain


rumbling in the distance

a roll of distant thunder

crash of thunder

crackle of thunder

crack of thunder

clap of thunder

bang of thunder

booming thunder

rattled with thunder

earth-shaking thunder


a furious storm

flash of lightning

streaks of lightning


flurries of snow

dancing flakes

snowflakes floating down

snowflakes wafting down

swirling snow

falling thick and fast

big flakes falling like petals

blinding snowstorm

raging blizzard

sparkling expanses

blankets of white

caked with snow

boulders of snow

branches coated in ice

glittering ice

crystallized by frost

silvered with frost


clouds of mist

dense fog

swirling mist

billowing fog

cloaked in mist

cocooned in fog

shrouded in fog

enveloped by fog

smothered by fog

made mysterious by fog

the fog rolled in

the fog was burning off

the fog was lifting

the fog was clearing

the fog was dissipating

(Source: https://www.bryndonovan.com/2019/04/08/master-list-for-describing-weather/)

Bryn Donovan did a phenomenal job with this list which will be of enormous help for many of us. (I do hope, she’ll forgive me for showing the entire list here.) Thank you, Bryn!

I realized, in my books, the weather does play a particular role, when I want to describe scenes. Sadness or happiness, enthusiasm or indifference can ‘dictate’ how I describe what is happening, and fog, wind, sunshine, or thunderstorms can very much help to accentuate the vibe of the scene.

Do you ‘play’ with the weather in your stories? Does it help you to describe a scene or happening in a better way, or is it easier to ‘feel the vibe’ of something thrilling coming up when the weather plays an additional role? Let us know in the comments.


Dear Readers and Followers

On the first day of autumn 2022, I decided to give the first book in ‘The Council of Twelve’ series, Soul Taker, ebook for free for one month!


Click the link here: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/911964

After long years in the line of duty as a ‘Soul Taker’, Kate is worn out.

When she gets a new job offer from the ‘Powers Above’, she accepts her new job as a Guardian gratefully without knowing that her teacher is one of the most powerful beings in existence, the Archangel Raphael.

Along with Raphael, she takes on her new task and the connection between them grows.

Raphael helps, protects, and supports Kate, but suddenly, she becomes a target for the Demons of Hell.

Raphael realizes that Kate means more to him than he expected, which causes him to fight furiously against danger. If he fails, Kate’s future will contain eternal darkness, evil, and torture.

Use the coupon code


Enjoy the book, and I’d be grateful for a review… and if you fall in love with the characters, you will going to get the other three books in the series as well:

Sundance: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/953202

Demon Tracker: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1014830

Bounty Hunter: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1065921

Enjoy your read, and please, let me know, how you like the book!

Interview With One Of My Characters VIII

Picture courtesy of freepik.com

Good Morning Joe, Can I call you Joe?

Well, yes, that’s my name, Joe… Good Morning.

Joe, I really appreciate you taking the time to talk to me, even more since I know you have had great changes coming your way just recently.

First of all, thank you for the invitation. I took your request to my superior and asked him if I was permitted to visit you. Zachariel agreed, but also made sure I wouldn’t tell too much since that story is currently a WIP and still needs to be told. So be careful with your questions.

I will. Thank you for the explanation. I would like to ask you about the time you spent on Earth among humans.

Well, what’s there to tell? First of all, we didn’t live ‘among’ humans, per se… most of the time we were quite far away from everyone. I built our house out in the ‘nowhere’ for humans to be safe. I still could meet some of my friends, with my motorcycle I was getting around quite well, for the worst weather, snow, and ice I had the truck.

Now, that’s interesting. But why did you need to keep humans safe from you? I mean, you’re…

… an angel, yes. But Cordelia is a supernatural being and even inadvertently can be a horrible threat to humans. She’s the nicest girl, but raising her wasn’t always the easiest thing to do.

How so? And how come it was you raising her? It’s not like you’re actually related to her, are you?

No, not blood-related. But at the time I was the only one who could do it, and who am I to deny a baby her right to live, grow up, and become a happy and useful being?

Didn’t you just say, she was dangerous? Isn’t that a bit of a…

… oh, don’t be so logical. Not every supernatural being is a danger to humans, provided said creature is able to control their abilities and skills, they can be very helpful, practical, and supportive… Look at me. I’m an angel, and you wouldn’t consider me ‘dangerous’ to humans?

No, of course not. I figure you did a phenomenal job raising Cordelia then.

I don’t know if I did. But I very much hope so. Her teenage centuries were quite an adventure, though. I had almost given up a few times. *laughs*

And it’s true that nobody knew where you were and what you were doing?

That’s correct, and that’s how it had to be. Too many of Cordelia’s kind were destroyed, just out of ignorance, superstition, and misinformation. I wanted her to be safe, and I needed that to be a secret. That’s why I gave up everything I knew up to then, and went back to Earth living with her, building us a home and raising her best I could, teaching her how to control her abilities, and build her skills, as also directing them to where they belong.

Where do they belong then?

*chuckles and shakes his head* Now, now… didn’t we say, we are careful with our questions?

Of course. My apologies. So, is it true that a member of ‘The Council of Twelve’ found you on Earth?

Yes, that’s true. But to find out more about that, you will have to wait until the respective book in ‘The Council of Twelve’ series is published.

I understand. Can you tell us how it is for you to return to military surroundings after you lived on Earth all this time?

*Scratches his chin* It’s not particularly easy, to be honest. I loved my career within the ‘Divine Army’ before I left. But our Father knows what’s best for us; that must not have been my place. I figure, He took me out of there and gave me a different task. We are currently trying to find out, what else will suit me, as a new challenge. But I trust our Lord to do what’s best for me, and everyone around me, including Cordelia, of course.

You still keep an eye on her, do you?

You must understand. For the longest time, she was everything to me, daughter, friend, companion, comrade, confidante, and closest ally. You don’t just throw that into the wind. A bond like that cannot be destroyed, except one of the ones holding the bond wants it. Cordelia and I were and are many things to each other. The only thing we never were, is a ‘couple’. She was entrusted to me, and this could never be. I felt I needed to prepare her to be ‘more’, and that’s what will happen. Our Father had other plans for her.

You’re a great friend, Joe. You’re the rock in the ocean of many, many people. Including me. But that’s another story. Thank you, for being my guest today.

It was my pleasure. Thank you for having me. We will meet again, I’m sure.


(After Joe had left, I felt a little lost. His presence made me feel warm and fuzzy. Joe is of medium height, slim, well-built, and carries his graying hair a little longer than usual. He wears a beard, has the warmest eyes one can possibly imagine, and is, undoubtedly, a biker. One can see, this man, as a human, and a supernatural being, has fought many battles. I am proud to call him my friend!)