Having just recovered from my impromptu meeting with Tone, I had just set down to work on my new book, Reunion, when I looked up and my heart almost stopped. There was this thing in my kitchen. It was golden and shiny, bright and sparkling, beautiful and breathtaking. It had a cup of coffee and sat down beside me. My first thought was, “Great. First Tone, now Zeke. How am I supposed to get any work done with figments of my imagination interrupting all the time?” Then I realized that they are not interruptions as much as storylines. Since my hold on reality is somewhat tenuous on any given day, I decided to go with this.
Doug: Hey, Zeke. Do you mind toning it down a bit? My sunglasses are out in the car.
Zeke: How did you know it was me?
Zeke: Thanks. I like to think they are my best feature.
Zeke: My eyes. You were just wishing your eyes looked like mine.
Doug: Uh, yeah. I didn’t say anything.
Zeke: Uh, angel. You don’t have to. I know what you’re thinking. Plus, I am in your head anyway.
Doug: Oh yeah. I forgot. So what brings you here today?
Zeke: Just checking on you. I know you are under a lot of stress right now and was making sure you are staying on track.
Doug: Uh huh. Right. You just want to make sure New Fallen is ready.
Zeke: Well, I was mildly concerned about your well-being, too. If something happens to you, it could put a damper on my lifestyle.
Doug: What lifestyle? You’re an angel. You don’t even have a life!
Zeke: Fair point. Okay, my spirit-style. I like what you are planning for Arino and me in New Fallen. It is way outside the box for the angelolgy you created.
Doug: Angelogy? The study of angels? I like to think of it as Angel-mythology. A whole new way of thinking about angels from my twisted little mind.
Zeke: Call it what you like, it works for me. Now, let’s talk about this whole bad-boy-angel thing you have in mind for me. How much of a bad boy do I get to be?
Doug: Well, the book is done except for my final read-thru. You push the limits in New Fallenand will go even farther in Demonize.
Zeke: Demonize? Is that the next one? Not sure I like that title.
Doug: Like it or not, that’s what I’m calling it. Don’t worry. You are not the demonizer.
Zeke: Is that even a word?
Doug: It is now. I’m a writer. I make up words all the time. Anyway, I’ve got you playing close to the edge. You like?
Zeke: I like. Now, what about a love scene between Arino and me?
Doug: I already have your spirits merging. What more do you want?
Zeke: Well, there was that hot tub thing that Tone mentioned…
Doug: That was a joke.
Zeke: Was it?
Doug: Yes. It was Tone making a joke.
(Zeke’s eyes glowed golden at this point.)
Zeke: Was it?
Doug: I’ll see what I can do in Demonize. Is that good enough?
(His eyes returned to hazel.)
Zeke: For now. So when are you starting on Demonize?
Doug: Not you, too! Tone has already been here harassing me about it. I’ll write a prologue today. Okay?
Zeke: For now. I’ll be watching. Don’t take too long getting to it. I am, after all, the bad-boy of the angels.
Doug: Noted. Can I get back to work now?
Zeke: Well, there is one more thing.
Doug: What now?
Zeke: You really need to take better care of yourself. We had a meeting.
Doug: Who had a meeting?
Zeke: Well, let’s see. Arino, Tone and I were there from The Spiritscape Chronicles. Then, Abby, Jonas, and Seneca were there from your Chilton/Lange series. I even met Keira from the Storytellers’ Guild.
Doug: Wait a second. I haven’t even told people about Seneca or Keira. What were they doing there? And, why wasn’t I invited? I made all of you.
Zeke: Don’t get all high and mighty with me, Mr. I-Created-All-Of-You. We just want you to get some more exercise and take care of yourself. You do that and we will keep talking to you. If you don’t…
Doug: Then you will go on strike and not talk to me and I’ll get writer’s block. Blah, blah, blah.
Zeke: Blah, blah, blah is all you’ll be writing if we won’t talk to you.
Doug: Okay. Okay. I’ll get more exercise. Anything else?
Zeke: Now, about your diet?
I made a loud groan which caused my son to check on me. I told him it was something I wrote. He just shook his head, walking away. I didn’t want to scare him with the truth that an angel had just stopped by for coffee.