My blog made it through one year and all you cool kids out there made that possible. Which is why if you guys remember, I was hosting a giveaway of dreamcatching proportions. And the response from all of you was so amazing, I honestly wish I had enough stuff to giveaway to ALL of you. You guys make me feel oh-so-good. Blogosphere really is a fun place to be a part of.
I had 208 entries in all and picking out four (!) was hard, so I left it to a magic hat to do the job.
And the magic hat says, that the first winner is: Karla Kalalang
The second winning hat goes to: Jen Daiker
The third magic wand waves over: Jennie
The Honorary Fourth winner is: Kai A
And because I feel kinda sad that I couldn't make all of you winners, I decided to add two more winners to the honorary list. They will get bookmark and swag like the fourth winner. And they are Mika and Chrizette.
The winners will hear from me shortly. Please keep check on your emails. Thank you everyone for entering and making this such a success.
This in turn makes me come to the second part of this post and share some pictures that inspire my WiP-turned- NaNo project, What Was Mine.
And here's an excerpt I thought I'd share:
Smoke tendrils swirl above her and around the kitchen, Deidre’s kitchen, from where we watch masked faces flirt and flow into the hall.
‘I’m not going in there unless someone takes off their mask.’ Mel rummages through the cabinets – open, slam, open, slam.
Sarah flicks the ash out of the window. ‘Not happening anytime soon.’ Turns to her. ‘Why you here then?’
Mel pops open a bottle, pours out the drink, raises the glass and flashes a crooked smile. ‘Free champagne.’
Sarah throws back her head and laughs. Mel pours us each a drink. It’s wicked fizzy and bubbles in my stomach, stirring up my nerves, making them sit up. I sit up, watch the masked faces flit around the hall, float with the music and feel myself drifting.
It’s like a labyrinth. A labyrinth of people to get lost in.
I get off the counter. ‘I’m going in.’
‘Coming after I finish,’ Sarah croaks.
I pull the black and silver mask over my face and step in with the dancers. What’s playing is a very squeaky waltz, probably picked up at the secondhand record store, but nobody cares. As long as the music rolls they can dance all night.
‘May I?’ He is tall, blond – very blond, almost white – with blue eyes dancing in desire.
I see my opportunity.
Tantalise. Make someone want me. Make him want me, for now.
His hands are around me, lifting me with the rhythm, throwing me with the air. I'm crap at dancing but he doesn't seem to notice. If there's one thing I've mastered, it's the art of masking.
(All photos taken from here)