1038 words today! YAY ME!

Food . . . must . . . find . . . food . . .

Well, I’m taking the plunge. Just signed on with the April/May Dare, Word count, Apprentice Level. Even if I don’t make it to 61k words, I’ll still make quite a dent in Born of Silence! My counts have been rather piddly since editing Castle Walls. Took me a bit to get out of the fantasy mindset and back to the Sanguire. (Well, that and getting over the hump of my stall scene. Now that I’m passed the one scene that kept getting in my way, I can feel the rhythmn pick up.)

Up at a fairly decent hour this morning. Not quite as tired. It’s rather funny, really. On nights at work when it’s slow and boring, I’m soooooo exhausted. On nights I actually work (what little of me will work, anyway,) I wake up okay. Bizarre.

Speaking of work, tonight’s going to be a long one unless my boss can get a meeting moved to another room for the morning. There’s a party in one room until 11pm and a complete reset for the next am. I’m not looking forward to hanging out at work for ten hours just to wait for the function to finish.

There’s an apparent Paypal scheme going on at the moment. If you have an account and receive an email from them stating that your account will be put on hold if you don’t send them the bank account number, don’t do it!

No need for a drum roll. 660 for the day. (Hmmm…maybe I should try to fit six more words in there.) Finally got to the scene that started this whole process – a dream I had after watching ‘Queen of the Damned.’

As soon as she stepped beside him, preparing to continue on, he moved, a startling blur of motion. She gasped at the speed. One moment he stood, arms loosely at his side, grinning. The next he was turned toward her, one hand at his sunglasses, holding them down as he peered at her over the rims, his amusement still evident.


His eyes were hazel, as dusty brown as everything else about him. They were full of sardonic humor, grim sadness and something else.

That’s what started Born of Silence.

I’ve had a shower, prepping to go to work. Take my meds in about fifteen minutes. Reading Infinite Loop by Meghan O’Brien.

Hope I get to work on time. There’s supposed to be a huge anti war protest going on in downtown Portland today. I actually wish I didn’t have to work! LOL! I’d love to take a gander at it – last rumor said they were expecting thirty thousand. Whew! That’s a lot!

Have a great day, people! Happy writing!

802 word count today. Finished the scene that held me up the last time I got stalled on this book. Now I have NO idea what happens! LOL! Well, not really. I have an outline. Just haven't gotten past this point before, so I'm not sure how the rest of the scenes will play out.

So…whaddya call a fish with no eyes?

Off to read a little something before I head to work for the night.

Later!

P.S. In answer to the question above – a fsh.

cackle

wiping sweat from brow

2100 words today! And I finished the frickinfrackin scene that's been bugging me for three days! WOOT!

A bit of backstory – Jenna is meditating and is having visions of a past life. Here’s what she sees…

Warning! Erotic content!

“Who is she?”


“One of the O’Toole clan.”


The music welled up around Jenna as she watched a younger version of Margaurethe dance about the ballroom, emerald dress flowing gracefully behind her. She danced with a dapper young man who paid her very close attention as he whirled her around.


Jenna scanned the crowd, finding herself inexplicably bored though she’d never attended a dance such as this. She saw Margaurethe’s partner was the envy of all the men. Understandable since the brunette was undoubtedly the most gorgeous woman in the room.


She barely gave the odd clothing a second glance.


As Margaurethe moved closer to her position, Jenna realized she sat on a stage of sorts, a long table stretching out to either side of her. Detritus from a rich meal scattered on a plate in front of her. Before she could focus on her tablemates, the brunette flowed past directly below.


“I want her.”


“Yes, Your Majesty,” a familiar yet strange voice said. “I’ll see to it.”


Flash.


Jenna stood at a balcony on a cool spring evening. Though peripherally she noted a city beyond the stone wall, her eyes remained in the garden below. A handful of young women teased and giggled among themselves as they played in a fountain. Their laughter rang off the walls, inviting her to smile in vicarious longing. She sensed that it had been some time since she’d felt as carefree as these women, despite the fact they were of an age with her.


Musicians played somewhere, their music less stuffy than the previous night’s dinner. Torches flickered here and there, providing illumination as the sky turned gray and then a deep blue. Stars slowly spread across the darkening sky, jewels across the vast quilt of night. None of them sparkled as much as the jewel in the garden, however.


The women were either daughters of nobility or their handmaidens. It was hard to determine which at this point, as all manner of haughty decorum had long been long abandoned in light of the water play.


Jenna remained in shadows, watching the intriguing O’Toole as she stood dripping beside the fountain. Her dark hair was damp, wilted ringlets hanging about her head, generous lips opened in startled laughter at someone else’s antics. Her dress, a simple affair of burgundy hung tight against her body, showing off a delectable feminine form. Jenna tested the air, searching, locating Margaurethe’s scent, a spicy odor that promised fire and sweetness.


As if aware of her audience, the O’Toole paused in her play, looking up at the balcony. Several moments passed, Jenna’s eyes meeting hers, knowing the woman could detect her outline in the shadows, could see the gentle glow of her pale eyes.


Margaurethe’s eyes dropped away decorously, a delicate blush coloring her skin. Another girl ran by, startling her and she automatically splashed her playmate, receiving a thorough drenching in response. When she looked up at the balcony again, her shy smile was an inviting one.


Jenna felt the full effect of arousal flood through her body.


“I want her,” she whispered.


Flash.


She sat at a small table in her room, fire blazing nearby, a light repast spread out before her. Across the table, brilliant green eyes regarded her in coy flirtation.


Margaurethe’s lips curved into a smile as tasted something or other from the meal before them. “These are very good, Your Majesty,” she said, her voice a musical lilt.


Jenna didn’t answer, too intent on this vision licking her rich red lips, something she vowed to do herself. She leaned back in her armchair, lazily swirling the contents of her glass around as she watched with hooded eyes. Both of them knew it was only a matter of time before Jenna took her.


But they had plenty of time.


Flash.


Those lips, swollen from many kisses, opened as Margaurethe cried out. She leaned back against the corner of a four-poster bed, one hand holding the carved wood, steadying herself. The other was buried in Jenna’s hair, fingers digging into her scalp. Her naked thighs spread wider, hips hitching as her lover expertly tongued her clitoris.


Jenna breathed in the scent of spice, pleased at her catch. The brunette writhed against her touch, the sight and sound setting Jenna’s heart pounding uncontrollably. Unable to hold herself away, she dived back into the heady taste, slaking her thirst with the liquid fire of Margaurethe’s arousal.


Flash.

Sorta…

Exhausted, but alive. Ran my butt off until 1:30 Sunday morning and was back at 11am to work through another shift. BLECH!

All in all, the wine auction went very well. Rumor has it they made over a million dollars for a local clinic. We did very well in coat check tips, too!

Not much writing has been done this weekend. I was able to concentrate for about 45 minutes Saturday night on world building for Born of Silence. My muse has decided to add certain elements of what could only be termed as magic into the storyline. Then she left me to explain what it was and how it worked. Plus, I've been writing off an old prophecy that hasn't been written, so I brainstormed a few things for that. I know I've got to include the prophecy (probably as a prologue) just for things to make sense. Still don't have the real meal deal, though.

I'm still exhausted. Don't feel like I've slept any the last two days. Gotta go back in 3 hours for another shift. yawn

.

Found it on Stardoc's site; here's my results:

I am the Charmer Charm is seduction without sex. Charmers are consummate manipulators, masking their cleverness by creating a mood of pleasure and comfort. Their method is simple; they deflect attention from themselves and focus it on their target. They understand your spirit, feel your pain, adapt to your moods. In the presence of a Charmer you feel better about yourself. Learn to cast the Charmer’s spell by aiming at people’s primary weaknesses: vanity and self-esteem. Symbol: The Mirror. Your spirit holds a mirror up to others. When they see you they see themselves: their values, their tastes, even their flaws. Their lifelong love affair with their own image is comfortable and hypnotic; so feed it. No one ever sees what is behind the mirror.

What Type of Seducer are You?
created by polite_society

I've spent the day going through Born of Silence, reaquainting myself with the storyline and characters. At some point, I realized I had to dig through three different piles of notes and so spent an hour putting them all together in one notebook. Now I know what Stardoc (S.L.Viehl) meant about updating her notebooks every week. This is only my ninth novel, but if I keep getting interrupted by Castle Wall edits I'll need the reminders.

Basically, BoS is about genetic vampires – not your typical 'I vant to suck your blooood' sorts. More along the lines of a separate race of beings that coexist with humans on Earth. I'm trying to steer away from the norm of vampire tales yet still keep enough of it to show why our current reality has conjured up all the myths (garlic, crosses, etc.) I think the toughest part is going to be coming up with the prophecy that everybody's acting on – I haven't written it, but it sure is a big deal to the Sanguire Council! Not to mention it's the basis for the entire book! LOL!

Jeri did a review of Maddie's Memories for me. I'm awaiting a response to a couple of questions before I see about fleshing it out more. Too bad I already sent it to the publisher, eh? Ah, well. If it's accepted, I'll send the editor the new and improved version and ask her to work from that instead.

sigh

I don't wanna go to work tomorrow. We've got the wine auction this weekend, an annual event for 800 people. It's a LOT of work to set up and just as much to tear down. Granted, we get paid for the deed but I'd much rather be home with blackberry tea and a book.

A friend of mine sent me a picture regarding the use of duct tape for homeland security. The Shrub's mouth was duct taped closed! LOL! Now THAT would be good for homeland security, ja, sure, you betcha! LOL!

That wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. Couple of moments of thick throat, but no tears. THANK you!

Plus..an additional 300 words added. I don't know if I should hold it for another day or so or send it off now.

. . . is going to be the title, methinks. Subject to change if I hear anything better. Debating on whether or not to post it at FM. Honestly, if I do, I can't expect any decent crits before it's due. I told Fran I'd have this to her by Friday.

takes deep breath and girds loins for battle

Off to do a thorough edit of this thing. I've got a fresh box of tissues beside me and warned my sister-in-law that any tears she sees have nothing to do with the real world. I lucked out in the writing yesterday – Mary stayed in her room for the entire time I was sobbing.

Okay. Can't put it off for a week. I've got a deadline.

So, I slog through the short story, teary eyed and snuffling like a mad woman. I run to get ready for work and go off to bring home the bacon. I get to work only to discover I'm forty minutes late!? CRAP! I thought I was scheduled at ONE, not NOON!

sigh

Fortunately, no manager today, no supervisor besides me, no shift leaders. The three on my crew got to blow 45 minutes and milk the clock, my bad. They weren't too upset about it. Hel, by the time we finished work, they were out by 3pm!

Still feeling kinda soggy around the edges re: the short story. I'm thinking of calling it Memories of Maddie or something similar. Not planning on looking at it again until Wednesday, though – my next day off. From the few comments I've received among beta readers, it's good. Not many complaints other than the tears. (And that's good!)

Got home to discover my Columbia House DVD deliveries! WOO HOO! I've a mind for Victor Victoria tonight. I'd watch Monty Python's Holy Grail, but I don't have the time to put into it. Perhaps on Wednesday as a treat for editing that short . . .

.

Talk about emotionally draining. Just finished the short I started last night – 1728 words in an hour and a half. That doesn't count all the fuzzy words that I couldn't see well through the tears. And I have to be to work at 1pm today. sigh After all that, I need a nap and a day off!

blowing nose

sigh

sniffle

Heh.

So I've spent the entire day pondering this anthology thing. And did I mention, getting nowhere? sigh

I've flipped through short stories with no success, wandered through the novels I've completed as I searched for a likely couple to begin questioning their relationship, even dug through the notes I have of upcoming stories to look for something.

Nada. Nichts. Nein.

As I bemoaned my situation to my best buddy, Shawn, she brought up an idea. What better way to have one of a couple seriously reconsider their relationship if they're old and decrepit and one is about to die? What do you do? Stay with your mate until the bitter end? Or run shrieking in the opposite direction?

Whoa!

Then I put my spin on it – what if one is able to take care of herself and the other has Alzheimers to such a degree that she can no longer recognize her partner? Now that would be a story!

Sat down to write and in less than two hours I have made my goal for the day – 1033 words. Yeah, baby!

Off to celebrate, cruise the web, maybe write a bit more for the night. Who knows?

Sheesh . . . not only is is tomorrow, but it's gone and become even FURTHER tomorrow!

Went to work Saturday afternoon. Mediocre night, the usual. Unfortunately, it was almost 1am before I clocked out. My last bus had left a half hour before. I had a choice of staying in the hotel I work for or catching the final bus out of town. This would plant me over a mile from my house and I'd be walking home on arthritic feet and knees. I don't think so.

So, spent the night in the hotel. Had a glorious shower (the hot water never ran out! Gotta love it!) Went back to work this afternoon. I saw from the window that it was a drop dead gorgeous day, but I wasn't fortunate enough to witness it first hand, alas!

Slaved away some more and am finally home. Whew! I'm off tomorrow. Think I'll nap a couple of times and get some writing done.

Couple of things have been plaguing me tonight, story wise. Castle Walls is off to the editor and I should be getting back to Born of Silence again. Unfortunately, as is always the case when I'm halfway through a novel, something else is rearing it's enticing head and beckoning me away. sigh I hate it when that happens!

Anyhoo, the group in-house was 4H. Those of us with some rural background will recognize the organization. Right across from the office door, the Alaskan contingent had a display. Now, I've already got two Alaska ideas in the works – one being a modern day run of the Iditarod and the other being a mail order bride arriving in the 1800 wilderness. Now I've a different one coming to mind – modern day chica nicknamed Trog who saves the life of the President of the United States. No, it's not about how she does it. It's about the reporter who follows her around trying to get an exclusive 'people soft' type of story out of the incident. (And she's nicknamed Trog because she literally lives in a cave – i.e. trogladylte.)

I'm weird, I know.

Tomorrow, I'm going to go over my original At First Blush anthology entry that failed to make the grade. I think if I flesh out the bits and pieces to show rather than tell why the character is second guessing her current relationship, Fortitude might accept it for their next anthology, On Second Thought. Wish me luck. I've got to have it completed, contract signed, story sent in by the Ides of March!

Nitey winky!