Friday, September 20, 2013

ARMAND PIERRE FERNANDEZ a.k.a. ARMAN




 



 
 
Arman,  (Nov 17, 1928 -  Oct 22, 2005)  was a French-born American artist.  Named Armand Pierre Fernandez at birth, he began life in Nice, France.  His father, Antonio, was a painter and photographer who taught his son about both art forms.  In 1946 Arman received his bachelors degree in philosophy and mathematics.  He then enrolled in the
Ecole Nationale des Arts Decoratifs.  He graduated in 1949 and went on to study at the Ecole du Louvre in Paris.  There he delved into the study of archaeology and oriental art.  After finishing his studies he served as a medical orderly in the French military.
 
Arman was a painter who transitioned from using his painting tools to create art, to using the tools as his art.  He is also well known for dismantling objects and recomposing them in his work.  Arman believed in the concept of "accumulations",  large numbers of identical items arranged into one cohesive unit or work of art.  This would remain a constant element in his art.  Once of the opinion that his abstract paintings were of more importance than his accumulations,  public attention and reaction to his compositions convinced him of how powerful this art form could be.
 
Inspired by a German exhibition from 1954, he began his first major artistic endeavor which he called "Cachets".  By 1958 he was into his third solo exhibition in Paris.  He featured some of his 2D accumulations from "Cachets" which brought about a major course change in his career.
 
As an homage to Van Gogh, he initially signed all of his works with just his first name.  In 1957 he chose to change his name from Armand to Arman.  When he became an American citizen in 1973 he took the official name, Armand Pierre Arman.  Arman continued to be his public persona.
 
The years between 1959 and 1962 brought about his two most recognizable concepts, "accumulations" and "poubelles" (French for trash bins).  Accumulations amounted to concentrations of identical objects that he would organize either in polyester castings or in Plexiglass cases.  His first welded composition of like metal objects was created and exhibited in 1962.   Poubelles were arrangements of strewn refuse.  Arman's 1960 exhibition "Le Plein"   filled the Paris Galerie Iris Clert, with garbage, serving as a counterpoint to "Le Vide" ,  an exhibition there two years previous, by Arman's friend Yves Klein.  Both works made the European art community stand up and take notice.
 
Arman made his American debut in 1961.  He probed creating through destruction.  "Coupes" and the "Coleres" were works of burned, sliced, or smashed items organized on canvas.  Musical instruments were a major theme in these exhibitions.  He was enthralled with the New York art scene and after his 1961 exhibition at the Cordier Warren Gallery, he took up residence part-time at the Chelsea Hotel and soon after kept a studio in the Bowery.  Here he began working on large public sculptures containing furniture, automobiles, and other objects in various stages of dis assembly.
 
As one of the largest of Arman's accumulations, "Long Term Parking"  Is permanently exhibited at Chateau de Monteel in France.  The 60 ft high sculpture of 60 automobiles encased in concrete  was completed in 1982.  An equally impressive work created in 1995 for the Lebanese government and displayed in Beirut, honors 50 years of military service.  The work is titled, "Hope For Peace"  is a 105 ft monument comprised of 83 tanks and military vehicles.
 
In his personal life Arman married twice, first in 1953 to Eliane Radgue, and then to Corice Canton in 1971.  Between them he fathered 5 children.  In 1989, with Carrole Cesar he had his 6th child.
 
There are a number of interesting books about Arman worth checking out.
     "Arman - Vol II:  1960 - 62"  by Denyse Durand-Ruel, 1991.
     "Arman - Vol III  1963 - 65"  by Denyse Durand-Ruel, 1994.
     "Monochrome Accumulations  1986 - 89"  by David Kuspit,  1990.
 
Image above left, "Long Term Parking",  sculpture by Arman 1982.
Image above right,  "Hope For Peace",  sculpture by Arman  1995.
 
 

Interview with Scottish Author Lacey Dearie

Lacey Dearie

Welcome to Vision and Verse, Lacey.  Is that your real name? 
Lacey Dear is a pseudonym, I use it because I originally wanted to keep my life as a writer secret and separate from my personal life.

And where might we find the lovely Lacey Dearie? 
Ayrshire in Scotland

Welcome to States, Lacey.  I think you are our first Scottish author.  We are happy to have you here.  What have you written? 
I wrote an alternative mystery novel entitled The Tangled Web about spies who use social networking to honeytrap cheaters.  It reached number 1 in the Amazon UK free download chart in January 2012 and number 51 in the paid chart in February 2012.  
I have also written a bizarre love story about a donut and a chocolate éclair entitled Baked! which reached number 1 in the German and French short story charts in August 2012 and in Germany again in July 2013.  
My most recent releases are Leger – Cat Sleuth and Leger’s Curiosity about a Glaswegian feline detective.  Leger – Cat Sleuth has performed moderately well in the US, reached the top 20 in the UK Cats, Dogs and Animals chart in June 2013 and went top 5 in its genre in Canada in July of this year.




What is your favorite genre to write?
Cozy mysteries, cat sleuths in particular.  There’s something really special about a cat and feline characteristics that mean they are both cute and believable as detectives.




What is your favorite food?
Moroccan.  All those spices and herbs and the flavors really do it for me!

Where would you like to visit?
I’ve had a dream to go to Hawaii since I was a teenager.  I have a “Hawaii fund” sitting on my dressing table which I add to whenever I can.  Of course, my dream began after reading a novel about the islands.  Maybe one day I’ll get there. 




Favorite musical artist.  Do you listen to music when you write?  What?
Suburban Legends are my favorite band.  I can’t go for even a day without listening to one of their songs.  They’re just to fun and inspiring.  I don’t listen to music much when I write but I do switch the radio or my iPod on as soon as I take a break, usually to listen to Travis or Franz Ferdinand, as they won’t break my train of thought and they keep me in the right frame of mind to write.

What makes you laugh?
I love Adam Sandler movies.  He’s so funny.  But mostly, on a day to day basis, it’s my two year old son who makes me laugh.

How old were you when you started writing?
I started writing fiction almost as soon as I could write, so I was around six or seven years old.  I continued throughout my life but never believed that it could be a career until I was in my twenties and decided that, as impossible as it seemed, I was more likely to get a novel published than be taken seriously in my day job.




Where do you get your inspiration?
Everywhere!  From life itself.  If I’m at home in front of a computer I don’t get inspired.  I have to be out there, living and seeing and learning.  Even the silliest things can spark off a flame of inspiration in my mind – like a donut!

What do you do when you get a writer's block?
I do something else for a while.  I talk to friends or indulge in some retail therapy or go and see a movie.  However, my favorite unblocker is to go somewhere with lots of people like a train station, shopping mall or airport and just people watch.  I like to re-write their life stories in my head for fun and as soon as it becomes easy to imagine who they are and what their story is, I know I’ve overcome my writer’s block.

Who is your favorite author?
Irvine Welsh.  His characterization is excellent and of course he writes in my native dialect so it’s very enjoyable for me to read.

Best book you ever read.
Around The World In 80 Days by Jules Verne.  A true classic.

Who is the one person who has influenced your personal life the most and why?
That’s a tricky question because a lot of people influence my life but it’s hard to pinpoint one.  I’d like to say my husband because he has always encouraged me to follow my dreams while at the same time helping me through the realities.

If you could sit down and have a conversation with ONE person, living or dead, real or fictional, who would it be and why?
Charles Dickens.  His stories have been so influential in everyone’s lives whether they realize it or not.  Who among us hasn’t referred to someone stingy as a Scrooge?  I am in awe of Charles Dickens.  I would ask him how it feels to have created a character so well known and if he knew when he was writing A Christmas Carol that he was onto a winner.
  
What advice would you give someone who aspired to be a writer?
Take your time, don’t be in a rush, and make sure you’re doing it for the right reasons.  There’s no glamour or excitement in being a writer and you need to be resilient to deal with the rejection and criticism.  

Thursday, September 19, 2013

Ella Jade's Cover Reveal THE WEEKEND PROPOSITION


Cover Reveal
Ella Jade's
THE WEEKEND PROPOSITION





The Weekend Proposition by Ella Jade

I’m thrilled to announce the release of my latest book The Weekend Proposition. Thanks so much for helping me celebrate. Please check out the giveaway at the bottom of the post.


Blurb
One weekend—no strings, no expectations, and no commitments. On Sunday afternoon it all ends, or does it?
No-nonsense businessman Spencer Cannon has a dilemma. He’s headed to Connecticut for the weekend to attend his cousin’s elaborate wedding. His whole family will be there in addition to his obsessed ex-girlfriend Ava. According to Spencer’s brother, Ava has been telling her friends she’s planning a magical reunion with her favorite ex-boyfriend. Spencer’s not in the mood to deal with her, but he can’t miss the wedding. He needs a plan.
Struggling Brooklyn waitress and aspiring graphic designer Dakota Vercelli has fallen on hard times. College debts, pending eviction, and her sick mother are taking a toll on her. A chance encounter with Mr. Cannon, CEO of Cannon and Carrington Advertising, leads to a proposition that may be just the thing to solve both of their problems. Spencer’s offer—spend four days with him during the wedding festivities and keep his ex off his trail. In return, he’ll compensate her generously for her time. He needs a weekend girlfriend, and Dakota needs the cash.
It was just supposed to be a business deal, but after sharing a room, kissing under the stars, and attending a wedding, their attraction is undeniable. Will the illusion end when the weekend is over or is the proposition just the beginning?
Content Warning: contains mature language and graphic sexual content



Excerpt

“I have a proposition for you.”
“A proposition?” What could he possibly have to offer her?
“I have to attend my cousin’s wedding this weekend. Actually, I have to leave tomorrow afternoon. I don’t want to go alone for reasons I don’t wish to discuss right now. I need someone to accompany me. I’m offering that to you.”
“And you think I’m ‘to the point’?”
He smiled but didn’t say anything. She couldn’t stand the silence. She wanted to figure out his game. There had to be some sort of catch.
“You want me to go to a wedding with you?”
“It’s in Connecticut. I would require your services until Sunday afternoon. All of your expenses would be paid, including a wardrobe which would be yours to keep after the weekend.”
“You need a date?”
“I would need you to appear as my girlfriend.”
“Is this a joke?”
“I wouldn’t joke about something like this. I’ve thought the entire thing through.”
“A man who looks like you should have no problem finding a real girlfriend to buy clothes for and flaunt in front of his family.” She thought for a moment. “Unless there’s something wrong with you.”
“There’s nothing wrong with me.” He raised his voice a bit. “I had planned on attending alone but circumstances have changed. I’m in a bind and from what I gather, you are too.”
Her instincts screamed to run in the opposite direction. She’d never been the type to fall for a scam. “I’m not interested in—”
“I’ll pay you two hundred and fifty thousand dollars for your time.”
“What?” Apparently a side of crazy came with those good looks.
“One hundred and twenty-five thousand today, if you agree.” He pulled out a check from the inside pocket of the jacket he had draped on the back of the chair. He slipped the mint green paper across the table. “You’ll get the rest on Sunday afternoon.”
“That’s fifty grand a day.” She studied the check. It would take her years to make that kind of money working these shit-end jobs.
“I’m aware.” He nodded as if the money meant nothing. “I’m asking for your time, a commodity I believe should be well compensated.”
Too good to be true.
“Do you make it a habit of paying women to be your girlfriend?”
“Pretend girlfriend,” he reminded her. “You would be the first.”
“Why me?”
“Does it matter?”
“What exactly do you expect me to do for that money?”
“I told you.” He narrowed his eyes. “I need a date for a long weekend. Everyone needs to think we’re a couple.”
“You’re willing to pay me to go away with you for four days. I’m supposed to take your word we’re going to a wedding in Connecticut? How do I know you won’t kidnap me and want to do all sorts of kinky stuff to me? You could be some sex-obsessed lunatic.”
“Kinky stuff?”
“Yeah, you know, like bondage and blindfolds.”
“Do you like that sort of thing?” He tried to conceal his smirk.

About Ella


Ella Jade has been writing for as long as she can remember. As a child, she often had a notebook and pen with her, and now as an adult, the laptop is never far. The plots and dialogue have always played out in her head, but she never knew what to do with them. That all changed when she discovered the eBook industry. She started penning novels at a rapid pace and now she can't be stopped.
Ella resides in New Jersey with her husband and two young boys. When she's not chasing after her kids, she's busy writing, attending PTO meetings, kickboxing, and scrapbooking. She hopes you'll get lost in her words.

Links?



The Weekend Proposition - coming 9/16/13
Get Lost In My Words... 


You can find Ella here…

GIVEAWAY
Please enter the rafflecopter for your chance to win a $10 Amazon Gift Card and a coffee mug with The Weekend Proposition cover on it.
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Wednesday, September 18, 2013

SPECIAL EFFECTS MAKEUP ARTIST, GLENN HETRICK








As an artist, I am continually looking at different forms of expression and artistry.  Special effects makeup is one of those art forms that I have become fascinated with lately.  It has always been an integral part of what we experience in the movies and television.  The special effects process has changed exponentially with the advent of new technologies and the public demand for exciting and more realistic entertainment.  The makeup artist's role has changed dramatically through the years, elevated from simple face paints and glue to elaborate air brushing and life-like prosthetics.

One of the leading makeup and special effects artists in the industry is Glenn Hetrick.  Glenn was born outside of Bethlehem, PA.  In his youth his love of horror films led him to get involved  in community theater, working as an actor and novice makeup artist.  During his studies at York College, he acted for the first time in an independent horror film and honed his craft as a special effects makeup artist.  Many more opportunities followed allowing him to further perfect his skills.

In 1995, Hetrick graduated with a Bachelor of Arts degree.  At the time the New York horror scene was in full bloom and Glenn went straight to work on a number of independent projects.  He did makeup for corporate industrials, created Halloween masks for costume companies, and collaborated with the iconic group "The Misfits"  on the makeup for their stage shows and videos.

In an effort to move his career forward, Hetrick moved to Los Angeles.  He hit on an opportunity to work as a designer, fabricator, painter, and sculptor for Optic Nerve Studios.   For many years he worked on TV series such as "Buffy The Vampire Slayer",
"Angel",  "The X-Files",  "Freaky Links",  "Babylon 5",  and "Roswell".  The fast-paced challenge to create a wide variety of creatures and characters fit his work style perfectly and fueled his sense of ingenuity.  He also freelanced with a number of film studios, collaborating with Ve Neil and Joel Harlowe on features such as "Pitch Black"  and "Chronicles of Riddick".

Glenn's talent for making amazingly realistic silicone prosthesis put him in the position to be able to open his own design studio.  It also paved the way for him to eventually acquire Optic Nerve Studios where he got his start in the industry.  O N S was founded by John Vulich and Everett Burrell and has been one of the premiere special effects companies in business today.  Under Hetrick's guidance, the studio has continued it's excellence in movie effects creations and has added production of annimatronics, manual operation puppets, costume  pieces, and specialty props to it's repertoire.  The current staff is composed of artists with specialties in painting, fabrication, sculpting, makeup, and design.

Glenn Hetrick currently acts as one of 3 judges on the immensely popular SCI-FY  TV competition, FACE OFF.  He continues his hands on designing and producing for Optic Nerve Studios.  For more information on O N S see www.opticnervefx.com

Above left image, Glenn Hetrick, makeup artist.
Above right image one of Hetrick's creations.

C.A. Szarek's "Sword's Call"


Welcome back, C.A. Szarek!  We're delighted to have you back with us.  Some of our readers want to hear about your fantasy romance book "Sword's Call", Book One  in the King's Riders Series.



Opening of book:

Heart pounding and fists clenched, Cera sat in the Dragon’s Lair’s darkest corner. By choice, the candle on the table was unlit. The bowl of stew half eaten, food the last thing on her mind. The door to the tavern swung open. Her white wolf growled low and deep beside her. Cera glanced up, squinting in the sudden flood of sunlight. As the door slammed shut and her eyes adjusted to the renewed murkiness, she took in the newest arrival. Then she focused on Trikser. She couldn’t have him going for anyone’s throat.
“Shhh, Trik, it’s okay.” She ran a hand through his fur, smoothing his hackles along the length of his spine. The big wolf looked up at her and licked her hand. One corner of her mouth lifted and she bit back a sigh.
The only reason the owner of the tavern, Marshek even let him in was because no one else was allowed to enter the Dragon’s Lair if she was inside without him. No one according to Trikser, that is. He’d almost taken the hand off the last guy who’d tried.
“What’ll ya have?” Marshek barked, revealing his instant dislike of the newcomer.
She fixed her eyes on the bartender. Then she took a closer look at the man sitting in front of him. His pointed ears betrayed his heritage, but his height suggested he was not of pure blood.
Marshek was known to be tolerant of elves but he hated what he called half-breeds. Cera could imagine what the grumpy, middle-aged tavern owner was thinking, and it wasn’t friendly.
She rose, Trikser also immediately rising, awaiting her move. The white wolf was her bondmate and had been since he was young.
Relax, she thought-sent. Trik sat, but his body was tight, tense. He didn’t respond to her mental order. Moving to the bar, her wolf followed, slinking close to the floor, moving in a slight crawl. His belly probably touched the filthy planked flooring of the tavern.
Cera made a face but forced a breath. Detached control. Sliding onto the stool next to the half-elfin man, she was just in time to hear his order. His voice was clear and deep.
Marshek filled a mug with ale and started to put the jug in its place on the shelf.
“Wait, Mar,” she said with a wave of her hand, “I’ll have some of that, too.”
With a curt nod, the older man poured her a mug. She brought it to her lips, glancing nonchalantly at the stranger. His coal black hair brushed the collar of his hooded gray cape, giving him a rather unkempt look, but rugged rather than messy.
Cera couldn’t see the hue of his eyes from her seat but his high cheekbones made his profile appealing, his sleek tapered ears adding to the attraction. His powerful jaw line was clean shaven, an oddity in these parts. She could tell he was aware of her perusal. He was young, not much older than her, and had the stunning beauty of the elves.
His chest heaved as if he’d taken a breath, and he finally glanced at her. Blue. His eyes were a deep, sapphire blue. Her heart skipped a beat but she ignored it. The man said nothing, not that she’d expected him to.

2nd kiss:

“Tell me about it,” Jorrin encouraged.
“I pictured our magic as a rope and wrapped it around us. I stepped into him, making us one. I concentrated and I saw you. But then I saw me, too. My eyes were closed, and I felt like I was sitting beside myself. It was…unsettling, at first. But then Trik must have moved his head, because I saw into the woods…he turned, right?”
He grinned at her. “Yes, he did. You did do it.”
“His eyesight is so sharp. It was a wonder to see.” Their eyes locked and held. Air ruffled her hair, causing gooseflesh to rise on her neck as a substantial breeze kicked up.
Trikser made a noise in his throat but she ignored him.
Jorrin looked so wild and beautiful with the wind in his dark hair, his high cheekbones flushed with color to the tips of his slender tapered ears. Her heart skipped as his blue eyes darkened and she read intense heat there.
Last night he’d been in her dreams. Try as she might, Cera could no longer deny that she was attracted to him. That she’d liked that kiss he stole what seemed ages ago.
Would he kiss her again? Heat crept up her neck and burned her cheeks.
The way he was looking at her right then made her lose her train of thought and her worries.
“Tell Trikser to move.”
“What?” But Cera already sent the mental command. Her bond slipped off her lap with little encouragement. He’d caught sight of a rabbit, and took off after it.
Jorrin grabbed her hand and tugged forward. She fell onto his lap, moving to him instead of away, ignoring mental cautions that this wasn’t a good idea, despite her dreams, her admitted attraction.
Their lips met in heated rushed. Cera’s arms shot around his neck and she pressed closer. His body was hard against hers and a tremor shot down her spine.
Her breasts pressed into his chest as he pinned her against him. Jorrin shoved his tongue into her mouth and groaned. She clung to him, moving her mouth under his
When she touched her tongue to his, he moaned, his hands shooting down to cup her bottom.
Cera wiggled in his arms as an unfamiliar warmth enveloped her like an embrace. Jorrin’s erection pressed into her hip and she clutched his tunic with both hands.
When he kissed her harder, her head spun. Feeling his urgency, confusion rushed her. She moaned, fighting the sensation of his warmth, his strength as he squeezed her against him. Her desire for more. Her desire for him. She couldn’t lose control.
Yanking back, she panted against him.
Jorrin’s chest heaved into her breasts as they both struggled for breath. “What’s wrong?” he croaked.


Blurb:

For generations, the Ryhans, ruling family of the Province of Greenwald have been keepers of a sword rumored to possess enough magic to defeat kings. Lord Varthan, a former archduke and betrayer of the king, covets the sword and invades Greenwald. 

Lady Ceralda Ryhan, daughter of the murdered duke, gains the sword and flees, trusting only her white wolf, Trikser—magically bonded to her. Cera needs nothing more to aid in her fight. 

Jorrin Aldern, half elfin and half human, left his home in the mountains of Aramour to find his human father who disappeared twenty turns before, but finds Cera with Varthan and his shades on her tail instead. His dual heritage and empathic magic will tempt Cera in ways she never thought she’d desire. But can he convince her trust and love can pave the path to redemption or will the epic battle end in tragedy and evil conquer them all?

COMING SOON!!!!  Love's Call, Book Two in The King's Riders Series





Tuesday, September 17, 2013

Excerpt from Lord Of Blakeley




“Lord Andrew!  Come quick!  We’re being attacked!  There is a regiment of Bishopites on Blakeley soil.  Up on the hill!  They’re burning our crops.  They’re chopping down our fruit trees,” Jacob cried out.
“Aleese, listen to me very carefully.  Go to the wine cellar and lock yourself in.  You’ll be safe there.  I’ll be back as soon as possible.  Stay in there and do not come out until I come down and get you.  This is very important.  Do you understand me?”
Aleese nodded and Andrew ran out and mounted, riding out in front of his army to find and do battle with the Bishopites.
“Carmine!” called Andrew, “Are you SURE they are the Bishopites?  How the hell did they get here?  We dismantled and buried the transport dock.  They have no way to get back here!  They cannot possibly be the Bishopites.”
“One in uniform came down and announced to us that he was a Bishopite and they were here to steal our food, chop down our trees, and burn the rest of our farmlands.  That’s all we know.”
“Men, fall back.  Something’s not right here.”  The men stopped and Andrew rode ahead to the hilltop facing the Bishopite army alone, behind them the fruit trees and the farmlands of Blakeley safe and unharmed.
“Bishopites,” he shouted, “we are not your enemy.  We will not take part in this war of brother against brother.  Take your fight elsewhere and leave the peaceful province of Blakeley at once!”
Just then a man jumped on Andrew out of nowhere and they both were blown up in a cloud of dust and flame with a thunderous crash.  Bodily debris flew in the air.  Immediately all of the Bishopite army at the top of the hill disappeared.
The stunned Blakeley army was in shock over the loss of their beloved leader.  They searched the area for any sign of Lord Andrew, but found nothing.  Sad and dejected, they returned to the village in silence. 
“He blew them all up!  Our Andrew, our Lord of Blakeley, managed to somehow blow up all the Bishopites.  To save our land.  To save our food, our crops, our trees.  To save us.  He is a hero.  The bravest man in all of Blakeley, the bravest man I have ever known,” said Carmine crying.  “And who among us had more to lose than Andrew?  No one.”
“Jared, somebody has to tell her.  I don’t want to do it.”
“Carmine, you have to do it.  She likes you.  You’re closer to her than any of the rest of us.”
“Yes, I am!  And that’s why I don’t want to be the one to tell her!  She’ll hate me for the rest of my life if I bring her the news of his death.”
“No!  She won’t.  She’ll be broken-hearted because she truly loves him.  She’ll sob and cry.  And then, she’ll probably go back to Havenhill.  She only stayed here with us because of Andrew, to be with him.”

Carmine dismounted and walked into the Manor House.
“Lord Andrew has been killed in battle.  He died saving the rest of us.  He… He was the bravest man we have ever seen in all our lives.  Where is Lady Aleese?”
“She has locked herself in the wine cellar, as Lord Andrew instructed her to do.”
Carmine turned and went down to the cellar.  He knocked on the door.
“Lady Aleese, it’s Carmine.  Come out.”
“Where is Drew?”
“Lady Aleese?  Please, come out,” he begged.  “I need to talk to you.  It’s about Andrew.  He… he’s been…”
She unlocked the door and looked at him.  She saw the look on his sad tear-stained face.  He didn’t have to say another word.  She knew.
“NO!  NO!” she cried, falling on the floor.  “NO!  Do not tell me he is dead!  NO!”
“I’m so sorry, Lady Aleese.  He died saving all of us, our land, our crops, and our food.  Oh, he was so incredibly brave, My Lady!  He was majestic, even!  He managed to blow them all up.  Unfortunately he was in the middle of that explosion.”
“NO!”  She pulled herself up.  “I feel in my heart that my beloved Drew is not dead!”
“I saw it with my own eyes.  I saw him… get blown up.”
“No.  It cannot be.  Go away, Carmine.  I wish to be alone.”
“I understand you want to be alone.  But, please, let me help you up to your room.  Your ladies can take care of you upstairs.  You don’t want to stay down here in this cold, dark cellar by yourself.”
“Drew told me to stay here and wait for him to come and get me.  And I’m staying right here.  I’m waiting for him to come and get me.  Go away.”
“But Lady Aleese…”
“GO THE HELL AWAY!!!”  She threw a wine bottle at him.  It crashed to the floor and broke into pieces.
Carmine nodded and backed away from her.  She slumped back against the wall, slowly sinking to the floor, screaming and sobbing. 
“Come for me, Drew!  Please, My Love, come for me.  I don’t want to go on without you.  You told me to stay here and wait until you came for me.  I’ll wait for you, Drew.  I’ll wait right here.  Come for me, My Love.  Please, come for me.”  She cried some more and soon cried herself to asleep on the cold, damp cellar floor.
She heard something, someone walking on the broken glass from the wine bottle on the floor.  A shadowy figure approached her.
“Drew?  Drew, My Darling!  I knew you would come for me!  I knew you wouldn’t desert me.  Drew!”  She reached for him.  The shadowy figure reached out and grabbed her tightly.  The light caught a silvery glint from his wristband.  They both disappeared.