Books | Carmen Kern

Home
blog
Books
About
Contact

Home
blog
Books
About
Contact

THE LUCIFER CHRONICLES

THE LUCIFER CHRONICLES SYMBOL

Satan's Historian book cover

THE WATCHER BOOK COVER

The Fallen book cover

SHORT STORIES

POSTCARD BOOK COVER

Field of Bones book cover

Instagram

It was hard for her to remember what it had looked

It was hard for her to remember what it had looked like before the quake. Before the earth shook them around like a snow globe, and drywall crumbled, and waters rose and swelled over banks to flood streets, pushing cars and walls and people along with furniture and livestock. She was old, but her wits had been tack sharp that day as she remembered her granddaughter’s water wings she used when she came to visit. Her neighbors had found her eight blocks away, floating on her back, bright orange inflatable armbands around her elbows. So many hadn’t made it. So many were still lost. The old woman picked through the debris in her front yard, uncovering a photo album that had swelled and dried, the colors running together on the snapshots they had taken their first year in the house. But there it was, the front door, the brightest of yellows and the blue Alex had finally let her use on the trim. She remembered now as if it were that day all over again. Alex had swung her up in his arms and carried over the threshold, the start of a lifetime together. The old woman clutched the picture as she carefully chose her steps to the front door. The door had been washed away. But the hinges still dangled from the doorjamb. She held the picture up and wished with all her soul that it was that day again. She didn’t know if she believed in that sort of thing but sure as the sun in the sky, she felt a warm hand clutching hers, for that day, until the end of her days. .
.
.
#doorsoftheworld

The gyms are closed so I dug out my old exercise v

The gyms are closed so I dug out my old exercise videos and started working out in my backyard. One might think that I’ve fallen on my mat and can’t get up after the 40 minute videos, but the truth is I love laying there and getting lost in this view. Not a bad way to start the morning... Wishing you all a sunny day and blue skies!
#palmtreeseverywhere

I have to say I haven’t felt like being on socia

I have to say I haven’t felt like being on social media lately. Maybe a little of self preservation? Who knows?
I’ve been looking for anything to brighten up the day, so I thought I’d share this image I took in Sayulita, Mexico. Most of you know I have a thing for doors but it was the tile work on these steps and the pop of color on the walls that caught my attention in this little walkway. Hope it brightens your day as well!
#doorsofinstagram

Across the dry tundra, full of night and blackened

Across the dry tundra, full of night and blackened suns, the wind stirs the dirt into two swirling devils, thirty feet between them. ⁠
⁠
The girl tightens her grip on her fire staff. “There you are, dragon,” she whispers. ⁠
⁠
Stars disappear behind a monstrous shape. Scales upon scales glisten under a yellow moon as the beast soars and plunges over hills and into valleys. The girl drops to one knee, her staff extended like a lance in front of her. ⁠
⁠
The dragon screams. Its reptile eyes bursts over the last rise. It roars and spews fire across the barren land as it passes over the small Fire Keeper. And for a long moment, her red suit lights up, orange and yellow as flame and burning sand rush all around her, a burning cyclone. ⁠
⁠
And from within, her staff rises through the fire, unburnt and glowing white. She draws the fire to her staff, consuming it until there is nothing but the smell of singed dirt. The crystal tip of her staff flickers with a thousand tiny flames. ⁠
⁠
She digs in her pocket for the cloth her mother gave her only hours before. The Fire Keeper had promised she would return it after gathering the fire for their village. She wipes the sweat from her brow, ash and soot smear across her face. She holds her staff in two hands now, the weight heavier than before. ⁠
⁠
Across the tundra she trudges, carrying with her enough fire for another year.⁠
⁠
#rinodistrict⁠

They sat side by side, as long as their days allow

They sat side by side, as long as their days allowed. ⁠
⁠
____________________________________________________________________________⁠
This is another shot from my visit to Arcosanti, Az. This is one of the apartments for the people who work and live in this environment. There is no furnace or air conditioners in the apartments, but because of the building design, most of the dwellings are a comfortable 80 degrees even in the middle of the desert summers. For those of us who consider the summer months as one of Dante's circles of hell, that's an amazing feat! ⁠
⁠
#arcosantiaz

Here's a bit of color for your Tuesday morning! Yo

Here's a bit of color for your Tuesday morning! You know, just in case you needed some. ⁠
⁠
#surfsup

You never know what you’ll hear if you pick up..

You never know what you’ll hear if you pick up...echos, whispers, pleading, or a scuffling from around the corner that has nothing to do with the receiver in your hand. Go on, pick up. I dare you.⁠
⁠
#storytellers #payphone

Let your laundry fly free! It's Friday! Enjoy your

Let your laundry fly free! It's Friday! Enjoy your weekend...⁠
⁠
#fridayvibes

Andre sat up on his bike seat in the back alley of

Andre sat up on his bike seat in the back alley of his house and flicked the tassel he’d attached to his handlebar. The drink in his other hand warmed in his hand, untouched. His friends George and Zane waited for him, drinks open and half drunk. They had asked what was wrong with him, why he wasn’t drinking, celebrating like a big shot. ⁠
⁠
Andre had his eyes closed, his fingers running down the fine, silken tassel. Finally, he said, “I don’t want to move too fast or breathe too much. Keep my eyes closed. Cause right now, I’m rich. I’m sitting in my Ferrari, in a driveway with a fountain in the middle, sipping champagne from one of those fine crystals mom always wanted. I’m rich and sitting and thinking that I have all of this cause I was the only one to graduate in my whole family. And none of my lazy-ass friends can say that.” He smiled and chanced a quick peek from one eye. ⁠
⁠
“Man, look at you! You’re sitting on a triple hand-me-down bike, in an alley that smells like cat piss and burned rubber. All you got is a warm pop cause we couldn’t find anyone to score us some booze…you ain’t rich. You’re just like us. Fool.” They talked dirt at him but slapped him on the back like a brother. ⁠
⁠
Andre left his bike, opened his pop, and followed his friends through the alley. He didn’t have a car yet, but he swore he’d hang that tassel off of the rearview mirror on whatever he could afford, even if it wasn’t a Ferrari…just yet.⁠
⁠
#brightfuture⁠

And then she heard it. Footsteps scraping on the c

And then she heard it. Footsteps scraping on the cobblestone outside her door. A rustling of a cape or wings. And a knock. One timid rap rap on the old wood before it splintered into a thousand pieces. —————————————————————————-
I found this door in downtown Puerto Vallarta, walking at night by the ocean. It seemed like a door with many stories to tell... #storyteller

Outside, my soul walks the narrow path to the land

Outside, my soul walks the narrow path to the land of faerie where magicks and promises and songs, wild and strange, reel and roll over land and sky. Outside, dreams are born. •
•
•
This image was taken at #arcosanti , a prototype of Paolo Soleri’s urban planning concept just north of Phoenix. It’s easy to see why this place is rumored to be the inspiration for the spaceport on Tatooine in Star Wars.

Confession is good for the soul, so they say. ⁠

Confession is good for the soul, so they say. ⁠
⁠
I recently visited a place called Wonderspaces in Scottsdale. A newish venue which showcases several art installations. This image is of a wall covered in wood pegs and written confessions of the many people who visited. Small private booths were provided to write our confessions, something we had never told anyone else. Once the confession was written, it was placed in a small mail slot and then randomly hung up and displayed on the other side of the wall. ⁠
⁠
There were heartbreaking messages, beautiful messages, and even humorous messages. People milled around, reading and quietly talking about certain stories...because in my mind, these were small stories, snippets of people's lives that they anonymously put out there for the world to read. ⁠
⁠
Was it freeing? Was there a release of any kind? Maybe. Or maybe not. But each of these stories was worth reading and changed me in small ways. It reminded me that humans are so much more than what we see.⁠
⁠
I got stuck on the confession shown in this image. I don't feel guilty for what I've done. There are so many ways a story like this can go, don't you think?⁠
⁠
#wonderspaces⁠ •
•
•
•
• #writer #writing #amwriting #amwritingfiction #fictionwriter #writerlife #writersofig #authorlife #writersofinstagram #authorsofinstagram #writercommunity #fictionwriter
#writersfollowwriters #wordboss #wordnerd #womenwhowrite #indieauthor #indieauthorsofinstagram #instagramstories #aspiringauthor #wordsmith #microfiction #flashfiction #shortstories #storyteller #storytellers
#lovewhereyoulive #livethelittlemoments #vsco

All written material and images found on this site belong to Carmen Kern and Djinn & Tonic Publications. Ⓒ 2018. Read Privacy Policies here and Cookie Policy here.

This site uses cookies: Find out more.