Chapter eleven is finished. Yay, team!

Looking over my notes for chapter twelve shows some major additions. The only way to portray the pair of them falling in love is to stretch out the travel between Provey and Azrael’s villa in Wrendon. They have to be firmly entrenched in love by that point.

So let me open this to everybody who’s reading this and is familiar with the original story. Contact me with suggestions of what scenes you’d like to see as they make their way home.

I’m not looking for erotica or anything. I need everyday scenes of life on the road with an army. Give me something you’d like to see, two characters you’d like to see interact, a question you have about one of the characters that I can try to explain.

(A friend of mine, J, will remember helping me with Castle Walls when my editor said it was lacking. I ended up with fourteen new scenes, four chapters of new material. She got a free book out of it . . . and her name in the acknowledgments . . .)

Whaddya say?

I’m attemting to increase the angst for Ursula. She’s intmately aquainted with Azrael’s brutal side as well as the passion. In the original manuscript, I didn’t play this up as much as I could.

On the flip side, there’s another issue from Azrael’s point of view – that of royalty falling in love with slaves. I glossed over it a bit when she arrived home, but I really need to beef it up through the initial falling in love.

When I did more research on the politics, I decided I wanted On Azrael’s Wings to be based in a combination of Medieval and Roman times. I found a couple of decent sites about the lifestyle of the Roman and famous. One of the major differences between that time and this is the fact that no one looked introspectively at themselves to qualify their actions. Everything was about appearances, especially to the higher castes.

By extension, I have to put more of that into the story which, of course, ratchets up the level of angst for Azrael, too.

So, in chapter eleven, between the scenes of Ursula’s ‘morning after’ and the army leaving Provey, I’ve added a bit from Midia’s point of view. She, too, is aware of the fine line her mistress walks, and the thinning of that line if what she believes is happening is true.

Was it finally happening? Was their mistress finding the other half of her soul in Ursula?

The thought was both exhilarating and terrifying. Midia loved her mistress. To see her in love, her heart at ease, her soul complete, was a tremendous thing. Azrael deserved to have romance in her life, merited comfort and pleasure after the savagery she was forced to display for the crown.

But Ursula was a slave, and Azrael royalty. Nothing could ever come of their relationship. Nothing could truly be done about their emotions, providing Ursula felt the same way – and Midia suspected they did. The leading houses disapproved of such a match. Would they allow Azrael to enjoy a long term and illicit affair with a slave unmolested? Or would they fear her esteem of a mere servant, perhaps believe that Azrael upset the natural order of things?

Chapter 11, didn’t change much in the first scene. I added a bit about the death of Shonal’s father, and that Azrael had not been home to re-swear her fealty oath to her cousin, the new king.

The next scene abruptly starts two days later as the army leaves Provey. I’ve decided to add at least one more scene here, maybe two depending on what happens. Once the body slaves return from shopping, I want a quiet evening from Midia’s POV as she watches her mistress with Ursula. Up until now, I only have Midia’s words to Ursula about Azrael, and Azrael’s aristocratic or vicous POV. I want to show how someone in her service for ten years might see things a bit differently. Primarily, I want to show that whatever is going on inside Azrael with regards to Ursula is different than before. Midia is in a perfect position to notice the change in behavior.

Chapter ten is complete. Now to dig out chapter 11.

Working seven days in a row without much time off to edit or write. (Too many chores at home, too! LOL!) Here’s a bit from the morning after from Azrael’s POV. My aim is to show the arrogance of the ruling class toward slaves in general, though offset it with concerns for her slaves as people rather than chattel.

I sincerely hope not to turn the reader off. Azrael will have a change of heart over Ursula, but getting the reader there before they throw the book down in disgust is an exercise in tap-dancing. (Hel, most writing is an exercise in tap-dancing, I’ve noticed!)

As Azrael broke her fast with leftover meat and rolls from the mess tent, she tracked Ursula’s progress. The slave was back in the off-burgundy dress Midia had found for her a week ago, last night’s gown no doubt ruined after Azrael’s conquest. Pity. Ursula could pass for a high born lady in such attire, her movements dignified and graceful.

Her thoughts naturally turned to her recent prurient pursuits. She had anticipated – no, expected Ursula to be a fine ride, but had hardly hoped for the stunning result. That shy demeanor hid a wealth of passion and an interest in sex Azrael had not believed possible. She had overheard snippets of conversation between Ursula and Midia, had even quizzed Midia over the last week. Ursula’s maidenhood had been shattered long before she came to Azrael’s attention. Considering the level of sensual ability among the provincials, her experiences had to have been brutal. It was a wonder she had not been thoroughly crippled by the thugs who had first enslaved her.

She watched, amused at the consequences of last night’s diversion. Ursula’s olive skin tones reddened rather frequently this morning. She would look at Azrael, and a flash of obvious arousal showed on her fine features before she returned to her task. She avoided Midia’s eyes completely, displaying a discomfort with her companion previously lacking. Midia seemed to sense her uneasiness and acted as if all were normal.

Of course, to the more experienced slave, this was nothing new. It had been six years since Azrael had added a second body slave to her household, two since Vincenza’s addition. Besides, Midia had her husband and son to offset any envious emotions. Still, it had been some time since Azrael had trained a body slave from scratch. It would be quite interesting to see what Felicia and Vincenza would do.

A question from a reader:

I noticed that your old website is gone and therefore I am unable to access the Infinity Series. Is it being hosted on another site? Please let me know as I am interested in reading the entire series. Thank you.

The Infinity series (and all other stories that were originally hosted here,) are still here. I have not changed their location or deleted them. Additionally, the Royal Academy of Bards is hosting the series, as well. You can find them here.

For the other tales, if you hit places like Lunacy’s Reviews or other websites that have provided links, those links will work fine.

I found a cool new program! Visual Thesaurus rocks! It’s not an extensive as the full meal deal (the book,) but great for writing on the fly.

Many thanks to Sheila for the link on her blog!

Whew!

As I stated before, I’ve been editing this chapter to include two separate points of view instead of the mass of confused ‘she felt / she felt.’ Since I felt the scene was more powerful from Ursula’s point of view, that’s where it predominantly sits. But I didn’t want to lose so much of Azrael’s. Therefore, I added a bit of a scene in chapter ten to include how she felt about Ursula’s . . . performance.

Here’s a bit of a snippet:

The ground beneath them was hard, previously unrealized lumps of soil and rock digging into Azrael’s muscles. It would be best to continue this elsewhere.

Ursula emitted a disapproving moan when Azrael pulled her fingers free. She rolled them over, settling comfortably upon the lithe body. A keen urge to abandon the idea of her bed in favor of slaking her thirst with this vixen here and now gave Azrael pause. Ursula’s lips were swollen from kisses, slightly parted in invitation, her eyes closed. They opened wide as Azrael pressed her thigh hard against Ursula’s sex, surprise and abashment warring or her face.

“You are magnificent,” Azrael said. She stroked Ursula’s heated forehead, guiding wisps of mahogany curls away. “And I’ve yet to taste your sweetness.”

Shame gave way to a flicker of desire, and Ursula dropped her eyes. “Yes, milady.”

The demure action fueled Azrael’s desire. Gods, this one was so different from her other body slaves. She doubted she could satiate herself on Ursula’s offerings, no matter how hard she tried. Chuckling to herself, she pushed to her feet. Perhaps not, but it would be worth every exquisite effort she put into the task.

In other news, I spent yesterday beta reading a novel by KG MacGregor. Hopefully the manuscript will see the light of day as a book, eh?

After reading blogs written by other authors, I decided to hop on the bandwagon. I started at LiveJournal, and made a few friends there. I’ve spent time ranting about politics, celebrating life, taking silly quizes and keeping general tabs on my writing.

I decided to create another blog, this one hosted on my website. My mailing lists have grown thick with dust, and my readers usually have no idea what I’m up to. Despite the fact I had put a link to LiveJournal, I wasn’t all that sure that my readers had located it.

Further investigation to other writers’ blogs – those of successful professionals – got me thinking about the content. Those I trust had some pretty wise things to say and I decided to follow in their footsteps.

So, this journal is now my home page. In it, I will keep tabs on my writing (with the occasional slopping over of real life onto the entries.) For a more in depth look into my life, I suggest the unabridged version. There I’ll fall into the morass of daily life and how I live it.

In any case, feel free to email me using this form if you have the desire to comment. Or, you can comment on the LiveJournal blog. I look forward to hearing what you have to say.

About halfway through chapter nine. Slept all morning after graveyard, piddled about on my website, took a shower, and ran some errands.

After dinner, the wife and I watched Gothika. It was pretty cool though I don’t see how Halle Berry escaped a prison sentence, regardless of what her old man was up to.

I started reading The War of the Flowers by Tad Williams. I haven’t gotten very far but it’s very reminiscent of his Otherland series. Looking at the size of the book (600 plus pages,) something occurred to me, though:

I could jam all the Sanguire stories into one volume . . .

Food for thought.

The only thing harder than writing a sex scene is editing one. When I wrote the initial scene of Azrael and Ursula, I was still mixing my points of view with some frequency. Now I find myself in the position of dividing the scene into two points of view.

By the time it was appropriate to leave, the sun had set. Torches lit the courtyard when Azrael and her entourage sauntered out of the hall. Atol and Razzu had elected to stay, one for feminine conquest and the other to hear more about a new strain of flower. Azrael thought it best, really. Tenango and Suma appeared connected at the hip; that discussion with Razzu might need to be implemented sooner than expected. Their horses were delivered by stable boys, and they mounted.


Azrael had worn a light cloak for the expected evening coolness. Once Ursula was seated across her lap, she wrapped both of them with it. She slid her hand across the silk of Ursula’s dress as they rode through town, idly stroking legs and belly. Her thoughts worried her conversation with the magistrate, her caresses absent minded.


She could make no sense of her thoughts, unable to understand the purpose of his warnings or the rumor from the king’s court. Was this an instance where her political incapacity was a liability? Give her a sword and she led with swift and terrible results, her army nearly fanatical in their loyalty. Give her a shovel and she made her estate, Wrendon, flourish. But politics, with its conspiracies, maneuvering for power, and slippery deceit was beyond her abilities. Her cunning was on the battlefield, not a council room.


Azrael sighed as they neared the gates, her concerns giving her a headache. Idonatra, somewhat drunk, sang a drinking song under his breath. Tenango and Suma rode close, their heads bent together in quiet speech. In her arms, Ursula trembled.


The dinner had had its high points, Azrael mused. She leaned close, nuzzling the hair at nape of Ursula’s neck, her hand tucked beneath a warm breast. Did the woman feel so safe in a room full of people that she could tease her mistress with impunity? Had the slave been more experienced, she might have been in for quite a surprise; Azrael’s threshold of modesty was probably far lower than Ursula, born and raised in small villages. Still, it had been intriguing to be the recipient of Ursula’s initial forays into flirtation. Midia must have spoken to her while they had been shopping.


The guards ushered them through the gate without preamble. Their eyes took a moment to adjust from the torches at the gate to the subtle glow of moonlight, as they ambled down the road.
Azrael felt a shaking hand upon hers in the darkness, guiding her to cover Ursula’s breast. Thoughts of portly magistrates, political subterfuge, and shy flirtations disappeared in a flash of lust.


Cupping the rounded flesh, she focused on Ursula whose hand remained hot against hers. The woman’s eyes were downcast, her teeth biting at her lower lip in a way that Azrael associated with serious contemplation. It was at expression she was swiftly finding adorable. She was conscious of Ursula’s rapid breathing, and debated her next move. Was this a stepping stone on the path of desire? Or would Ursula stumble and fall off the path again?


In answer to her question, Ursula squeezed her hand, forcing her to do the same. To reward the bold behavior, Azrael repeated the action without prompting, thumb slowly rubbing a swollen nipple. The woman in her arms arched subtly, a sigh escaping her lips. Pleased Ursula did not pull away, Azrael pinched the nipple between thumb and forefinger. Ursula’s grip on her hand clutched in desire as she emitted a surprised gasp.

Finished chapter 8. I work graveyard tonight and have tomorrow off. I’ll have a go at slogging through chapter 9 then.

Ursula has weathered the slave auction and now must deal with the emotions involved. Here I’m attempting to beef up her confusion as well as the negative emotions she has toward Azrael.

“Are you all right now?” Midia asked, laying a companionable arm over her shoulder.


Ursula grimaced. “I feel empty and foolish, but I’m fine.” In truth, she felt out of sorts as an underlying anger at the entire situation warred with her helplessness.


Midia hugged her close. “Lady Azrael was miserable. She simply wasn’t thinking. She’s much more sensitive to things as a rule.”


“Sensitive?” Ursula demanded, her emotions taking their toll. Memories filled her mind – the unwanted attention of Kars and his bully boys as they swaggered about Theara, harassing her; the seamstress’ son, who visited the village far more frequently than when she had resided on his farm; the three soldiers who brutalized her; and the arrogant demeanor of Azrael as she played her audience on the balcony such a short time ago. Ursula pulled away from the embrace and turned her back to Midia. “It was hardly sensitive letting those poor women be raped and sold like cattle! I was in the village that day! I saw how her sensitive nature allowed her to brutalize everyone there!”


“What was done was necessary.”


“Hah!” Ursula’s laugh was bitter. “Impaling men before their mothers and wives and children isn’t necessary. Neither is having the women raped.” She was startled to silence when Midia grabbed her shoulder and whirled her about.


“Until you’ve seen three hundred men in battle lust I doubt you’ll understand. But know that our mistress must keep control of her troops! If she denied them, they would rebel and no one would be safe.” Midia stepped closer, forcing Ursula to back away from her anger. “You saw how those women were treated on the auction block today. Do you think it would have been easier for them if they hadn’t been broken days earlier?”


The change of subject undermined her rage. She thought of Jenka, the innkeeper’s wife – bold, outspoken, just as likely to wade into a brawl as her husband. Or Yellan, oldest daughter of the smith, who had raised her siblings single handed after their mother died, forthright and blunt as her father. Both women firm in their convictions and very likely to voice them. And those were the mildest of the lot.


Their indignant complaints on the platform would have resulted in severe punishments. Some would not have survived the whippings. Ursula had the benefit of experience in this life. All of them would go to their new owners full of fire and righteous indignation, something no slave could afford.


“Yes, you’re beginning to understand,” Midia said. “Life isn’t fair. As a slave you know that, but your life has been easy compared to many. You have no basis for comparison.” She sighed, anger fading. “Our mistress does what’s necessary to keep her position and honor regardless of how horrible it may seem. You’d do well to remember that.’‘

And now I’m announcing a new story Auction: Buy-a-Bard for the Holidays! Ho, ho, ho!


Nene is for sale again! This time you can Buy-a-Bard for the Holidays!


Getting a gift for the person who has everything is easy when you can give them the most unique present on the planet. Nene Adams has put her talents on the auction block once again to bring you the opportunity to Buy-a-Bard for the Holidays. Any genre, any style, any plot, anything you can dream up will be yours – from romance to comedy to mystery, horror or fantasy and everything in-between. Enter the adventure by becoming a character yourself! The completed story will become your sole property. Auction bids should go to . Deadline for entering will be October 25, 2004 for a story to be delivered by December 20, 2004. All winners will be notified by email. To keep abreast of the action, bid amounts will be posted (daily) anonymously at my website (http://www.corrieweb.com/library.htm).


Be Santa’s helper and spread the word!


Anyone who wishes to make a donation via PayPal (see link above) will receive a special thank-you – a Gaslight short story entitled ‘The Body on the Serpentine,’ written especially (and exclusively) for Supporters of the Library (October 2004). This story will not be available on-line until next year, and will be sent only to those who donate as a token of my appreciation. If you have not donated before, you can request both the ‘Disappearance of the Devil’s Eye’ (from June) and ‘The Body on the Serpentine as your gifts.’ Just ask!


Thanks in advance for your generosity! The donations and the auction participation during the summer really helped keep the wolf from our door; without it, we’d have been living on the street, eating out of Dumpsters and flipping a coin to see who was going to sell a kidney. I’m really not exaggerating by much; my partner is an artist and while she has a lot of admirers of her work, this year hasn’t been the greatest in terms of sales.


Hey, if you know anyone who would like to buy an original artwork by Corrie Kuipers (view some examples of her work at www.corrieweb.com/cor/paintings.htm), send ‘em over to the website. Maybe you’d like to buy a loved one a special gift? She also does commissions. And illustrations for magazines, computer graphics, ecards, etc. I love her work and that’s not just because I love her, you dig?

The old webhost is no more. All hail Dreamhost!

As you may or may not have noticed, I’m still importing my LiveJournal entries and editing them. (Only up through July of last year.) Have been deleting some bizarro political stuff as I want this blog to be the primary information outlet for my readers.

All links on the menu bar to the left are working, including the contact form. Feel free to drop me a line! Also, I’ve enabled comments on this thing. No one need register to comment an whatever post they wish. (Though admittedly, it’s a moot point at the moment, what with posts being a year old!)

On the menu bar is a category list. Those are the categories the posts are in. Hence, if you click on ‘snippets’, you’ll see all the posts where I’ve quoted my work on this blog. (*wiggles eyebrows*) While writing has been rather remote the last few months with me, I plan on getting back to it once things are in place here, and do promise to continue posting bits and pieces as I go.

Happy writing!

I’m importing my old LiveJournal entries to this one. In the process, the html programming gets screwy and the categories are all set to the default ‘computer.’

Have a look around on the menu bar, though . . . all links should be active. If there are any errors, email me at djredhawk at earthlink dot net. (I don’t think the comment form is up and running yet.)