Yesterday’s cold miserable weather has gotten slightly better. It’s sunny and warmer but the wind gusts are blowing everything around. Still, I’ll take it over rain and snow.
Today’s letter is Q. Not an easy one, but in my writing, Q stands for questions of the rhetorical kind. A rhetorical question is one that won’t be answered, one that can’t be answered, and one posed for dramatic effect.
In my books, I often have my characters using questions about their motives or another character’s motives.
In my paranormal detective novella, The Tigress, the first book in The Punishers series, I use questions in the prologue.
My name is Ellie Taggart, at least it is now. Over the last thousand or so years, I’ve had many names—too many to count, too many to remember—but this will be the last one I’ll need. Times have changed. Evil doesn’t hide in dark corners. It lives in the light. This world we live in is filled with more monsters than humans realize, more than one being can deal with in a lifetime, even if that lifetime does span centuries.
I’m tired. I would like to fall in love, have children, grow old, and spend the last of my days quietly sipping tea on a porch swing, surrounded by purring cats, not battling the forces of evil. But that’s not going to happen. It can’t. I’m the last of my line—maybe even the last of my kind—and that’s how it has to be.
If you saw me on the street, you might not notice me, but if you did, you would see a thirty-something woman with the golden skin and deep brown hair of her Asian ancestors. If you really looked at me, you might note my pert nose, wide mouth, pouty lips, and unusual almond-shaped eyes. What you wouldn’t see is who I am—what I am.
I was born deep in the jungles of the Indian Subcontinent, at the base of the Himalayan Mountains, during a time when few kept track of dates the way they do today. My father was a Royal Bengal tiger, the largest and most majestic of his kind, while my mother was a rare and unusual rakshasa. Don’t recognize the word? Not too surprising. So many people have forsaken the religion of their ancestors to swear allegiance to greed and corruption, the very thing that gives evil its power.
Even those who know what a rakshasa is don’t believe we exist anymore, and other than me, they’re correct. We are the shapeshifters found in Hindu, Buddhist, and countless other mythologies. We’re also known as “Maneaters”—not that I’ve ever indulged. Give me chicken or fish any day.
People have always been afraid of what they don’t understand, and shapeshifters of any kind certainly fall into that category. In truth, in human form, my mother was petite, delicate, and so very beautiful, with black hair, bronze skin, and almond-shaped amber eyes—my eyes now, orbs I hide behind tinted lenses.
Sadly, like witches with warts and hooked noses, rakshasa were depicted as huge, ugly creatures with fangs and long, sharp, claw-like fingernails. They were considered cruel, growling beasts with insatiable appetites for human flesh. I’ve seen them portrayed with flaming red eyes and hair, drinking blood with their palms or from a human skull, a lot like the less than fair representations of vampires. Most of those I know these days aren’t a bit like that. They sip wine in crystal goblets and get their blood online from specialty stores.
Can I fly? No, but my mother could. She could assume the shape of any creature, even the fearsome yeti, but for lack of a better term, I’m a half-breed, with sorely limited skills. While I have superhuman strength, I can’t vanish, but I’ve learned to be an expert at camouflage. I have some telepathic ability, which makes it easy to make people forget what they saw, or imagine they witnessed something else. Afterall, who really believes in the creatures of the night? It’s the stuff of television programs, movies, and books. But the legends are real—too real.
Am I immortal? No, I’m not a god or a demi-god, but my lifespan is impressive, and like my mother who died at Draug’s hand, killing me takes a lot of work.
I lived deep in the jungle until my father passed on, and then mother moved us up the mountain to a safer place. There she taught be to survive and guided me through my first changes. Unlike the shapeshifters controlled by the moon’s power, I can shift whenever I need to, and while in that form, heal and recover from whatever damages have been inflicted on me.
When I reached my maturity, many years older than I appear, she told me that if anything were to happen to her, I needed to seek the Chou-Lan Monastery in the hidden valley. There the monks would tutor me and teach me how to use my powers.
Life was pleasant, uneventful, until that fateful day when Draug and his revenant found us. Unlearned in the art of battle, unable to defend myself, I did as Mother requested, I shifted into my tigress form, ran, and hid.
The sounds of clashing swords and tearing flesh were horrific. Four against one. In the heat of the battle, no one thinks clearly, but in the end, it was my mother’s headless body that lay upon the field. Draug’s angry cries at the loss of his prize, killed by his own hand, split the silence. That night, I vowed to avenge her, but it was centuries before I understood the real reason for his agonized screams, and that while she’d died, she’d won the battle.
When the monsters had gone, I crept from my hiding place. There was nothing left for me there. Mourning, the pain so deep it made it hard for me to retain any shape, I searched for Mother’s head, but it was gone. Claimed as a trophy? Proof that he’d killed her? To this day, I don’t know. With grief ripping me apart, I built a pyre and cremated what was left of her the way she had my father. The mountains no longer held any appeal for me.
Leaving our sanctuary, I made my way into the hidden valley and searched until I found the monks she’d spoken of. Shifting into human form, I told my story. Decade after decade, century after century, I lived hidden among the holy men where I studied, practiced the arts I would need to survive, and learned of the responsibilities I carried as one of the punishers, beings born of the light whose sacred duty is to fight the forces of darkness and defend those unable to protect themselves. When the time came, I said farewell to the last of those who’d become family to me and headed into the world to fulfil my destiny as the scourge of evil.
Since then, I’ve roamed the earth and watched century after century as the powers of darkness have grown, turning the innocent into monsters almost as evil and corrupt as they are. Not all of the non-humans and undead dwelling amongst humanity are evil, just as not every human is good, but in the last century, those who foster hate and greed, jealousy and envy, and the rest of the deadly sins, have grown more powerful, more daring.
When my enemies crossed the line, I found them and dealt with them. I’ve wiped the minds of witches, wizards, and warlocks who dared practice the dark art and turned their empty shells over to their authorities. I’ve dealt with the undead and shapeshifters myself, battling those who posed a danger to humanity, consigning their unholy remains to oblivion. With each battle, I’ve learned and grown stronger, for power comes from knowledge. But I still have much to learn before I can face Draug.
I serve the light, going where darkness dwells, watching it insinuate itself more completely into modern society each year. It needs to be stopped—but I’m just one.
Draug doesn’t know I exist, but I know him. I remember the sight and smell of him, and one day, we’ll meet on the field of battle. It’ll be a fight to the death, one I’ll fight in my true form—my father’s form. But until then, protecting humanity from those who would use and abuse them for evil purposes is my mission. Who am I, you ask? I’m the Tigress.
If you’d like to read more. The Tigress is included in the Heroes Fighting for a Cause boxset.
All proceeds from this anthology will go to Ukrainian refugee relief.
Read romance stories about heroes fighting for a cause and to protect others by 12 Award Winning, New York Times and USA Today bestselling authors, PLUS 2 Bonus Stories.
Available for a Limited Time.
What’s a hero? Are people destined to be courageous, ready to step up to danger, protect others or their pets or property? At what age does it begin? Or does it ever show up?
Small acts of kindness are the beginning. One author came to her fellows with the idea of a box set filled with heroic romances. We could put this together and offer all the proceeds to Ukrainian Refugee Relief. The response was fantastic. The turn-around time was quick but manageable. Depending on how much this set earns, we have at least three different vetted organizations that will receive 100% of the earnings. Buy it now.
The Stories
Stephanie Queen – The Beachcombers: Ex-special ops legend Dane Blaise never wanted a partner, but he owed the governor. Working alongside gorgeous Scotland Yard detective Shana George to find a missing heiress would either drive him crazy – or get someone killed…. And now the human traffickers have their sights on Shana.
Desiree Holt – Rogue’s Return: Transitioning from being a SEAL to civilian life was tough enough without romance bumping in.
Zoe Dawson – Ruckus: Seal Team Alpha: Gratitude for saving her takes a back seat to falling for the alpha male who’d risk everything to see her safe
Stacy Eaton – Mission: Believe: The wounded warrior and the idealistic doctor join forces to overcome physical and emotional odds to build a better environment for returning soldiers.
Suzanne Jenkins – A Greektown Wedding: What does a lawyer using a cop as a beard, a beautiful detective in love with a member of the SWAT Team, and a guy with a broken heart have in common? A Wedding!
Tamara Ferguson – That Incredible Kiss: After Ten Years Apart, will unveiling their families’ dark family secrets Heal Two Wounded Hearts?
Dani Haviland – One Arctic Summer: Sparks and sutures fly as the Inupiat medico and brash college student work together in the America’s most northern city.
Patricia Rosemoor – Rescuing the Virgin: Will the young American woman’s special skills help him bring down the human trafficking ring he’s been after so long?
Susanne Matthews – The Tigress: There’s a new villain in New Orleans and Detective Ellie Taggart wants to take him down alone. Multi-talented Steve Cassidy insists he can help. Will their feuding – and desires – get in the way?
Christina Tetreault – Born to Protect: Sixteen years ago, he disappeared from her life. Now, he’s the only one who can protect her.
Bonus Stories:
Mimi Barbour – Special Agent Francesca: This special agent flies her own plane, drives like a maniac & jumps at the chance at real undercover work. Nothing scares her except for one thing… MEN.
Suzanne Eglington – High Priority: Gun toting Tiffany was born wealthy, but her hero self has no time for materialism and is convinced she’s always right. A stop for cat food changes everything.
Check out the other Q posts here: https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1nuoAOJ-BUAXE1Yl2yIArhUHInj902PHVX6_gL4oKiSo/edit#gid=1195767304
Living the Dream 