J.M.Tibbott

Nightmares

Marilyn Kleiber — Sat, 05 Sep 2026 21:40:27 +0000

The dream I was having about this odd place, was so good, I was hoping to be able to continued to dream for a while, praying that my alarm wouldn’t make me too soon.

I wish they had given me back my clothes because the dress while somewhat comfortable, just wasn’t me. The closest thing I ever wore to a dress was when I was young and we were somewhere in the middle east. My mother bought me a floor length, loose fitting robe thing, with long sleeves, which she called a djellaba. I loved that djellaba because it gave me so much freedom. Plus, it was cool and protected me from the sun, which was pretty fierce.

This damn dress gives me no freedom. There is too much material, particularly in the skirt and it keeps on catching on stuff.

I had finished my tea and was munching on some cookies when I noticed the woman in blue…um, Wynneth, had left. She seemed to be taken aback by some of my questions, but I really needed any information she could give me. I grabbed a cookie from the table, walked to the door and stepped into the passageway. I stopped. Something was wrong. The one thing I could never do in my dreams, was walk straight through a doorway into another room. I had to imagine myself in room A and and then imagine myself in room B.

The scary thing is I walked right through a door into the passage. So, I can’t be dreaming, I’m in a nightmare.

This place is real — it’s not in a dream. Where the hell am I? What happened to me? So, I did walk after my lunch and I did run into a storm. What brought me here to this strange alien place?

My knees gave out on me and I backed into a wall and slid to the floor.

Wynneth appears, walking down the hall. “Kat, why are you sitting on the floor?” I can’t speak because there’s a vice pressing on my chest. “I’m not dreaming, am I? This is all real isn’t it?”

“It is real, and so are you, and so am I. What is the problem?”

“I thought I was dreaming, but I’m in nightmare.”

She was looking very worried, helped me up and took me back into the room.Then she said something weird about not understanding about female horses.

If I thought I had questions before, I totally underestimated the terror I was experiencing now.

I’ve had nightmares before, but I’ve never woken up not knowing where I was. Something outrageous has happened. My dreams have become a reality that I do not know how to escape.

Has this ever happened to any of you in a dream?

I need help. Now!

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Dreams

Marilyn Kleiber — Wed, 19 Aug 2026 23:43:43 +0000

Dreams

I don’t know what was in that goat sandwich, but I obviously needed a nap, and I assumed I only dreamed about going for a walk.

In the dream, I had been ill (I don’t know what from) and I woke up in a kind of hospital, dressed in a cool cotton nighty, and there was a nurse leaning over me. She had a weird uniform on —all in blue and it looked like she wore a cape. I must have been thinking about nurses before the second world war. I think they wore capes then, but I’ll have to do some research, when I wake..

She wiped my forehead with a cool damp cloth and it felt so good.

I’m delighted, because when I get back to work, I can give Nick a new game. I often rely on my dreams for potential ideas. Usually before I go to sleep I tell myself I will dream about something I can use later. It usually works quite well. Often, I can take the brief bit and discuss it with Nick. He normally approves and lets me go off and design the full game. (I think I sometimes come up with weirder things that even he expects).

So, I’m in the middle of this dream and even dreaming about how I’ll allow it to grow into a great idea.

I know you’re probably already asking yourself, how do I know its a dream, because I can obviously see colors?

Well, smart ass, I always dream in color, and my dreams are so good I often believe they’re real.

I remember when I was a kid my mother took me to a museum. I think it was Pretoria, in South Africa. There were lots of animals there, and there was a head of a male lion in a case. It was huge. I spent almost an hour standing at the case staring into its eyes.

Naturally I had dreams of lions and tigers that night. I thought a lion had brought its cubs into my room, and one of them jumped on my bed and bit my arm which woke me because it hurt.

Of course there were no lions to be seen anywhere, but I could feel where the cub had bitten me, and it hurt for a while until I fell asleep again. Is that a psychosomatic wound?

So, my dreams have always been very real to me.

I said this nurse stroked my forehead, so I sat up. OMG. Big mistake. My head was pounding which was really odd, because I never get headaches. And then I was so embarrass because I threw up. The nurse put a container under me just in time. I threw up twice, and sank back on the bed and the pounding in my head eased.

I couldn’t really think that me getting a headache and throwing up was going to be good for a game, but perhaps I could come up with a dramatic challenge that caused this.

I would need some good characters that women could admire — a strong independent woman of course, plus a really cool and handsome man would obviously be needed.

I love it when a plan gets results. I heard a deep voice talking to the nurse. I looked past her and there he stood. The perfect hero. Curly hair, just the kind in which a woman likes to get her hands tangled. Melting chocolate eyes, tall and well built.

Yup, he’d work well.

But he left the room too quickly to get more details.

The nurse told me her name was Wynneth and the delicious looking guy was some sort of Lord.

I needed a shower, and I loved the bathroom. It was like a five-star hotel one, with fancy soaps and great smelling shampoo. I made use of all the lotions, and then I got dressed — in a dress! I haven’t worn a dress in years. But at least I was clothed and it was comfortable. I truly hate dreams where I’m naked.

I really needed to sleep some more, but Wynneth said I had to meet with the Lord in the morning.

I wonder what he would have to say for himself?

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Tortola Vacation

Marilyn Kleiber — Tue, 04 Aug 2026 18:13:37 +0000

The absolute best way to get to Tortola in the British Virgin Islands, is to fly into San Juan and then take a small plane directly to Tortola. Don’t let anyone tell you to fly to St. Thomas in the US Island, because then you will probably have to take the Ferry over to Tortola. Ugh Ugh Ugh. The reason I hate going that way, is because I get seasick. Sometimes the water can be rough, and that means I have to travel by rail. (Meaning leaning over the rail, that is.)

I was lucky I went in October, as it was a tad early for hurricane season. I did research before I booked, so I could figure out the best places to visit and stay. The travel agent suggested the New Fort Burt Hotel. She said it was air conditioned. I don’t normally like air conditioning, but she said on the weekends, there were loads of parties at other nearby hotels. She had just been there a few months before. She admitted the only way to get sleep was to shut the windows and wear ear plugs.

I’m not big on parties, too many drunk guys bugging the women and only out for one thing. I wanted to work on my new game while I was there.

When I went down to the terrace for breakfast the next day, I discovered one major thing the damned travel women forgot to tell me. No-seeums. You absolutely cannot see them, but they must be a set of flying teeth. And the itch. OMG. had to run back to the room to grab my mosquito repellant. The problem is it didn’t last long because I was in the hot sun and when I sweated, the repellant must have evaporated.

I gobbled my food and rushed back to my room to shower and ease the itching.

I decided I needed beach time, so I grabbed my computer, a towel, sunglasses, a large hat, and walked down to the next hotel, which had a small but secluded beach.

Once there, I set myself under an umbrella. Neither my computer nor my face needed extra sun, but I could do with a tan on my pasty legs.

I sighed. Everything was perfect. The view was spectacular, and not overly hot, because the breeze from the trades kept everything a marvelous temperature. Soon, I had a large rum punch filled with fruit and a jaunty paper umbrella on a small table beside me, plus my favorite computer nestled on my lap. My new video game was going so well, that I knew when I got back, Nick would love it. I was feeling so happy, I decided I would commit to his team work thing, and keep my job. I couldn’t face working with any other boss.

All was right with the world.

It was the end of the big tourist season, so there were few people around. I don’t know why, but I always seem to attract the dorks. A shadow crossed over my legs, and I was forced to look up. Sure enough some idiot stood there mumbling about a drink. I gave him a short no, but he persisted. I gave him my evil eye, and asked what was there about the word ‘No’, that he didn’t understand. I flicked my fingers at him indicate he should leave. Then I ignored him. He finally left.

I caught the time on the computer and couldn’t believe I’d been there for so long. Plus I think my legs were sunburned. I gathered my stuff, and headed back to Fort Burt.

In my room, I took another shower and slathered myself all over with Aloe Vera, which eased the burn on my legs. I had ordered lunch before I jumped into the shower, so I had just finished dressing when there was a knock at the door. Standing there was a nervous looking young waiter, pushing a room service cart. I stood aside to let him in, and he stuttered over a curried goat sandwich and some sort of fruit drink. He was practically trembling he was so uncomfortable. I nearly burst out laughing when I saw his name tag. Souris. What sort of family would lay the name of a rodent on a poor child, even if he did look rather mousy. Are some guys just born into cruel families?

I signed the cheque, gave him a big tip because I felt sorry for the poor kid, and he left.

The goat sandwich sat a bit heavily on my stomach. I needed exercise so I could get back to work on my computer, without feeling bloated. The large sandwich made me a little sleepy but I didn’t want to be tempted to have a nap. I took off my shorts and put on my jeans. I stuffed the room card in my pocket, and left the hotel to walk up the hills behind the hotel. It was rather rough going, and I probably should have put on better shoes than flip-flops.

I walked for while, and did a double take when I looked at the sky. There was a storm coming, complete with nasty black clouds. I sure didn’t need to get caught in a downpour, so I was about to turn back when the first rain drops hit me. I scanned the area for shelter and was so relieved when I saw some ruins close by. The first room I entered had no roof, but I caught sight of a door and rushed toward it just as the sky let loose and almost buried me with a deluge of rain and hail.

I grabbed the handle of the door and someone pushed me. What the?

Everything went black.

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Bosses

Heeba Fahad — Sat, 11 Jul 2026 11:21:13 +0000

I have to talk about bosses. I know many people have had bosses from hell. Nick is different, he’s a terrific guy to work for. He gave me a chance when no one else would hire me. I jumped very quickly from coding to designing the actual games. I think he’s pretty pleased that the first three I designed for him have sold so well. It took a lot of persuasion for him to let me create games for women to play. Let’s face it, men don’t understand that women like games as well, but the ones that have been the top sellers are so full of violence (particularly toward women) that the female audience avoided them. Plus the language sucked.

Women love seeing great men’s bodies in the games. We can window shop like crazy, but we don’t always have to buy.

We are not averse to fighting, but we like subtlety and sneaky moves to allow us to win

Once Nick understood this, I think Karen, his wife, finally persuaded him about my ideas, and he gave me cart blanche. There were only a few others working for him, and Carlo, his chief coder, was the best I had ever seen. The other three guys were all weird, but incredibly talented. I don’t think they noticed I was female. I told you they were weird.

We were the company who others thought were losers, until we began winning awards. I only went to the first convention near us. It was horrible and quite frankly scared me, and not much normally scares me. The other gaming groups were filled with guys who thought that only men could design games. They went out of their way to make sure they insulted me and the sexual harassment was so bad, I left after two days and never went back to another convention.

I loved the company though, and Nick, Karen, and their two boys sort of became my family. I’m not big into kids, but those two were a riot. They could be incredibly naughty, but always managed to rope me into their mischievousness. We often pranked Nick. Karen was too important to mess with. She made the cookies, and packed great lunches. However, she used their full names when she caught them in a prank. Let me tell you, any kid who hears his mom use his full name, instantly knows he’s in trouble.

What began my challenges with Nick was when he sold the company to a huge Japanese gaming concern. The Japanese have a concept within their companies of being similar to a tight-knit family. They hired more men and expected us to adhere to their team concepts. They insisted Nick stay on for two more years to keep the company running smoothly. If they had not kept him on, I would have left long ago. The challenge with the new hires was that they hated me as a female working in a man’s world, and did their best to mess with my designs.

I loathed this new team thing and avoided it like a plague. Unfortunately, the new owners jumped all over Nick for my disobedience. He had no option but to give me a choice of working within the current system, or finding a new job.

When he sent me off on a vacation to the BVIs, I was bloody mad, but also I didn’t want to lose my job. I loved working with Nick as my boss.

I was not expecting what happened there.

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Kat’s First Post

heebatk — Fri, 29 May 2026 19:00:10 +0000

Good morning, world. I am Kat, and I’ll let you in on a little secret. J.M. Tibbott thinks she created me. Big fib. Loads of authors believe they create the characters in their books. I am convinced this is also a load of bull. I think we are already fully formed somewhere deep inside the writers’ psyches. We’re just waiting for the opportunity to spring forth and show ourselves to the world.

Now that you know this about me, I hope you can relax and enjoy this blog, without having to suspend disbelief in me and the rest of the folks in The Pridden Saga.

Let me give you a bit of my background.

My last name is Karim, which was my father’s name and is Arabian, although he was Omani by birth. It was a good name, as it means ‘noble’. I’m convinced it suited him, big time. I adored him, because he always spoke to me as a person, and taught me amazing things about the world when I was young.

Mom was a Scot, and I know her maiden name was Craig, which was also appropriate, since it means ‘rock’. She was definitely the rock in our household.

We travelled to so many different places, many of which I have no memory. The reason for our travel is that my father was part of the Omani diplomatic corps. I am led to believe he was highly respected in diplomatic circles. I figured out he was the sort of fixer who travelled from embassy to embassy ironing out problems, Because of that, we never spent much time in any one location. Mom much preferred traveling outside Oman, because, particularly as the wife of a diplomat, in Oman she had to wear the hijab. It was always required in Oman, and often at some very posh affairs in other parts of the world. As a fiery Scot, she hated the hijab, but she loved my father, and I guess she accepted this as part of his job.

I’m telling you this, because I often use phrases from these countries in my speech, and you may be confused by the words I use, and wonder if I was born in the middle of an ocean somewhere. I wasn’t. I was born in a perfectly respectable hospital in Canada, ‘cause father was fixing something at the embassy at the time. As a result of being exposed to so many different countries, I’ve been told I have a mid-Atlantic accent. Although we were never in one place long enough for me to learn the language of each country, I do know a few words of most of the languages where my father was stationed.

My parents died shortly after I turned thirteen, so most of this information I have learned since, from both research and from my brother, who lives in Australia. By the way, Australia has some of the best names for things, and I love their accents.

Now you know a little about me, hopefully we can have fun together as I write and publish this blog on a regular basis. What I would like to do, is travel through the books and give you my thoughts about the timing of things that happened in my journey.

Skal! That’s the one word I picked up in Denmark. I think it had something to do with drinking.

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