Goodbye Inktober, Hello NaNoWriMo

Goodbye Inktober, Hello NaNoWriMo

At 1:30 AM on 10/31/2020, I finished my 4th Inktober book, a book I do in ink every day during the month of October. The Hallowinks in the Haunted Carnival, Volume 4; Hallowink Hollow™ Series.

During the month of October 2020, I created 62 new illustrations for two of my Art Comic series:

31 illustrations for my, Hallowink Hollow™ series, all created in ink

31 illustrations for my, The Courtly Cottontails™ series, I created in pencil. 

In a few minutes, I'm starting my, 11th novel in my Wolves of Whitewater Falls™ series, my supernatural ghost town saga. This years book is titled, Winter Wolves. I never write out any of the story ahead of time, but I have been thinking about a strong opening. I'm hoping to have 65K-72K words completed by November 23, 2020.

This story opens with a scene that took place, for real, when my husband left my store, and within a minute or two, someone tried breaking my back window. It escalated from there, and I'm glad I hit my alarms when I did. I had only one weapon: my camera. I recorded the incident from there on, including his rage, his forcefulness, his hand behind his back. 

The police caught him. He was "familiar" to them. He was a drug user and homeless. After throwing a rock at my first window, listening for a window sensor alarm, he moved to the window with the alarm sticker, and through his body against it. I won't shake his image and shadow beating it, anytime soon. I had seconds to hit my alarm because I knew he was coming in and met him as he approached my back, tried to stall him wishing the police were there. I told him he had to have a mask on. He was walking in circles and he kept dropping things. His words made no sense.

It seemed to be about my alarms. The policeman said, "He said there were people talking to him in back."

There was no one in back.

However, when the homeless man came came flying at me with his right hand behind his back, he kept telling me I was alone.  He wanted to be sure I was alone. 

I was trapped behind my desk, but safer there than anywhere else because I had books I could topple on him, if he forced himself behind the desk. He went for the back door a few inches to my right. I kept my eyes on his--he looked like the freak boyfriend my sister had at one time, the one that contributed to her black spots on her brain they documented on her autopsy from all the times he beat her. The "ex" that had the audacity to call after her death and taunt our family and threaten all of us in various ways, leaving threats on my mothers' phone, ways he would kill us all, that he had all our social security numbers. Who doesn't?

It only took one meeting with her boyfriend to see the black soul inside, his black eyes that turned darker as he spat threats at me after beating my sister bloody, covered in cuts and dripping blood. You don't forget those things, and I remember seeing blue uniforms, but all I could focus on was my sister. This man that came in had that same rage. That same black look in his eyes, that same whatever-I- -want-to-do-I-will-do attitude.

As his high increased, he thought he had me. He thought he was in control, but I learned from crazy Louis, and a couple of choice old ex-boyfriends of my own--how to face your enemy.

Truly, I was shaken to the core, but I had to stand. I couldn't blink. I didn't dare back away. He told me I wasn't alone.

He told me that, but I knew he was asking if I were alone. I had to bluff. I was alone. No one was going to hear me scream. No one was going to be able to help. I had to hope the police would get there before he got behind the desk--and I had seconds to figure it out because I didn't know what he wanted.

I had hit my panic alarm too, in fact, the responding officers new that it was real at that point. I had dialed 911 on my phone and left it on my counter, it was already, by a fluke on vibrate, so it didn't ring when my alarm company tried calling, then called my husband, they'd already dispatched police too. It was at that point, anything could happen.

One minute seemed like twenty. I knew I had to stall him. Break his strength, not take my eyes off his even through I was sure he came back with a gun or knife, something in his hand he kept behind his back. I was ready to push the books over with this next step. Instead, he yelled back, "I'm calling the police!"

I knew I'd won. I would be safe now. He turned and hustled out, swinging whatever was in his hand up and down. I could hear the sirens.


I can still see his shadow and his body, arms hitting the glass window. I'm still shaken, though I know he's not allowed back in the store, or in the shopping center--yet my husband and daughter saw him riding by today, across the street. Oddly, I felt like he was near. I just sensed it.

It could have gone the other way too. I didn't know, then, but later found out that  my friend in Alaska was praying for me. Rosie texted that she was sensing something was wrong and was saying a prayer over me that morning. I also had the sensation not to worry about the errands my husband went off to do, just wait. I ignored it.

This is the third week in a row someone has tried accessing my work areas at two different stores. Then the goofy man who came in asking "What instrument are you?" But what he kept asking, repeatedly, in every way possible, "I just need to know your birth year, I don't need your birthday."

I wouldn't tell him. That seemed to frustrate him more. Then his phone in his pocket announced, "Anonymous caller."

 I heard him hit the "off" button to his recording he was creating. What right did he have to "Pocket" record our conversation anyway. The month of October is done. I'm going to use November to write about it.

Wolves of Whitewater Falls, Book 11.

Annie is the protagonist, she's much stronger than I could ever be. 


Thank you Rochester Police and Rochester Fire, and ADT. The officer said he'd been on the force 16 years, this was one of the few times he'd had a call where the panic alarm was a real call. I've thought a lot how one minute made the difference in the outcome. There isn't time in a panic situation to do things you prepare yourself for, even an alarm--it's an alarm.

I set the camera recording us in plain sight. I set my cell phone in plain sight. I put myself in plain sight--in case anyone walked by or came in--they'd know something was wrong. 

After the police caught the guy, I had a customer arrive who'd come from my other store. He had taken a cab over, but when he arrived, the police wouldn't let him in since we were dealing with the incident. He called from the cab asking if we were OK inside. I've thought a lot about how one minute could have made a difference in his life too. 


Twice in my life I've seen the devil in another man's eyes. Twice, the Lord sent angels to stand between me and the threat.

Thank God -- I knew He had His angels there. Sometimes you feel them. This time, I was upheld by something. 

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Lisa Loucks-Christenson