toasted, please
Doing well with the daily wordcount until I distracted myself with food. While staking out the florist from the cover of a cafe, they have to eat something and Horatio’s drinking beer so it needs to be something a bit crispy… ah! Grilled cheese on garlic-rubbed baguette. There’s a hint of rosemary too, maybe rosemary-infused oil brushed on the bread before being placed on the griddle.
Mmmmm.
Illume, word count = 17 252
lighting up
It’s always interesting to identify what sparks a project. The bones of this one have been lying around waiting for tendon and flesh for months now, ever since I realised I could recycle two short stories into a novel … thus Illume arrived, though if challenged to name it in public I will refuse unless bribed with bubbly as my accent is non-existent. But scribbling in the middle of the night hasn’t happened for a while. Other projects snuck in, the work thing encouraged a zombie-like state, the general gloom of winter… yes, I can spin a fine excuse. Then I read a paranormal-investigator novel, didn’t like it, and the Paris-project revived.
I’d forgotten about the rat-pigeon hybrids. I think they deserve a bigger role…
Illume, word count = 13 156
shocking
A suucessful raid on the library – though it took from A to L to find the first book, more followed until I ran out of arm room. That equals 11, plus Angel’s Blood which I bought once I noticed the 20% off all fiction at one of my favourite bookshops (they have a loyalty program) and the 2 others purchased on someone’s else’s behalf. I got historical, I got one of the latest Eve Dallas, a Dark Hunter (can’t actually justify buying them anymore), a slew of male-authored paranormal detective, and… an always glorious Elizabeth Peters – The Laughter of Dead Kings. Vicky Bliss! Sir John! Egypt! Links to the Emersons! General effervesence and joie de vivre! And after a hiatus of a decade+ since the last adventure, the return is much appreciated, as the ! betray.
Now. Trouble is, that stack of books calls to me more than chocolate. Or baklava, turkish delight, spinach pita … all of which would go well. And sadly, the glee is drowning out the possible guilt over ignoring poor ghosthunting Andy for a little longer.
It isn’t every day my haul of books is so large.
wolfing
To whomever ensures “wolf demon” regularly features in this site’s top searches: Very well… I can take a hint. Introducing Remittance Advice, and an all-girl pack of demonic wolfy types playing ransom games with Zac Kincaid from the Rogue Mapping series. Awww, I can almost feel sorry for them.
vamping
My pretty vampire who knows how to tango finally accepted a name: he’s now Ash Kent. Depending on how familiar you are with the wizards of Unseen University, you might get a giggle out of that. The first six letters also make me sigh so I must not be over one particular Mercedes Lackey “Heralds of Valdemar” book – and that’s got to be at least a decade since.
sweet
Sweet Heart, word count: 11 305
Finished! Or at least to the stage where I can put it aside to rest. About three weeks is how long it takes for me to see both the bits that need improving and the good parts.
labyrinthine
Well, I don’t know what Zac did at Primrose but it was very very bad, even by Lee’s somewhat flexible standards. That’s the problem when characters get away from me, they drop hints like that and I’m left blinking at the screen, mouth gaping. Though they may have cleared up a slight locational issue – I’d wondered where Incognition and Giftwrapped (available via KKP!) are set and if Zac’s right about the facial filter program being set for the Morningside states, that means Blaise operates there. Hoorah! Sorry, lot of names, it will all make sense, I promise.
Something which doesn’t quite make sense at the moment is the appearance of a new set of characters. I could blame Scath for the twitter about fey ACEOs, or too much fruit bread eaten in an attempt to cure strudel cravings in turn caused by Lee. Anyway, new characters. Not daring to look at the nine pages of notes I scribbled at 3.30 this morning until after two cups of tea, maybe some light housework (dust, urgh), and hopefully the final scene of Sweet Heart. Which is turning out longer than the publication I’d had in mind accepts. Ah, well, new plan.
Sweet Heart, word count = 8 185
Giftwrapped
Available from:
Jed Wolferton figured working with (or for, depending on who you asked) a freelancing disguise artiste would have its ups and downs. He’s still looking for the upside but it definitely isn’t in the Butterfly Sting’s den of degenerate decadence.
