Jocelynn Drake's Blog: Announcements, page 25
September 27, 2015
Songs for Lucas and Andrei: Using Music to Inspire
I’ve completed approximately a dozen books and even more novellas and short stories during my life. There’s probably more and I’m just not remembering them. During that time, I’ve found that I can write anywhere on anything at anytime and get along just fine. The one thing that seems to be a sticking point for me is the music.
The music that I listen to while writing a book help me to find the mood for the scene or keep me in a character’s mind. I need to have music playing in the background to block out the rest of the world.
When I was writing Mira’s books for the Dark Days series, I listened to a lot of Linkin Park and Marilyn Manson.
When I was writing Gage’s books for the Asylum Tales, I listened to a lot of Shaman’s Harvest and the score for Assassin’s Creed II.
And when it came to working on Shiver , I knew I’d need something different. For some reason, the Counting’s Crows’ August and Everything After album just fit me perfect. To be entirely honest, I have no idea why. I don’t know if it’s the lyrics or just the melancholy sound of the piano on some of the songs, but I think it echoes something about the loneliness deep in Lucas’s soul. And I think that some of those songs are going to resonate even more when I start working more heavily on the second book in the Unbreakable Bonds series.
I’m still searching for song that I think match Lucas and Andrei. If I asked Andrei, I think he’d say a great song for him would be Five Finger Death Punch’s new song Jekyll and Hyde. Of course, now I’ve got both of them chiming in my head.
Lucas’s brow furrowed and his head cocked to the side as if he was struggling with Andrei’s answer. “Seriously? Jekyll and Hyde?”
“I thought you liked that song?”
“I do, but it’s kind of a dark mood.”
“What do you think it should be, O wise one?” One corner of Andrei's mouth lifted in his teasing.
Lucas grinned wide. “Laid.”
Andrei rolled his eyes, not even trying to hold back his chuckle. “You wish. Try again.”
“Sex on Fire.”
“Nope, try again.”
“Gimme More.”
Andrei threw his head back, laughing loudly. “You just listed a Brittany Spears song. I’m losing respect for you.”
“Whatever. You recognized it.” Lucas gave a wave of his hand, a slight blush to his cheeks. “Just so long as the song isn’t I Kissed A Girl, we’re good.”
“And what would your song be?” Andrei folded his hands over his stomach and lifted his eyebrows, prompting Lucas.
“You Make Me Smile.”
Andrei’s expression softened and his words were little more than a whisper. “You fight dirty.”
“For you? Every time.”
I can’t wait to introduce you to more of Lucas and Andrei when Shiver is released on October 27. To get the latest updates, follow us on Twitter and Facebook. Also, you can see the lovely inspirations we’ve had for the series on our Tumblr page.
Shiver will be out on October 27. We are aiming to release it both as an ebook and in print. If you are excited about Shiver, you can pre-order the ebook from Amazon by clicking here. More vendors will be appearing shortly.
The music that I listen to while writing a book help me to find the mood for the scene or keep me in a character’s mind. I need to have music playing in the background to block out the rest of the world.
When I was writing Mira’s books for the Dark Days series, I listened to a lot of Linkin Park and Marilyn Manson.
When I was writing Gage’s books for the Asylum Tales, I listened to a lot of Shaman’s Harvest and the score for Assassin’s Creed II.
And when it came to working on Shiver , I knew I’d need something different. For some reason, the Counting’s Crows’ August and Everything After album just fit me perfect. To be entirely honest, I have no idea why. I don’t know if it’s the lyrics or just the melancholy sound of the piano on some of the songs, but I think it echoes something about the loneliness deep in Lucas’s soul. And I think that some of those songs are going to resonate even more when I start working more heavily on the second book in the Unbreakable Bonds series.
I’m still searching for song that I think match Lucas and Andrei. If I asked Andrei, I think he’d say a great song for him would be Five Finger Death Punch’s new song Jekyll and Hyde. Of course, now I’ve got both of them chiming in my head.
Lucas’s brow furrowed and his head cocked to the side as if he was struggling with Andrei’s answer. “Seriously? Jekyll and Hyde?”
“I thought you liked that song?”
“I do, but it’s kind of a dark mood.”
“What do you think it should be, O wise one?” One corner of Andrei's mouth lifted in his teasing.
Lucas grinned wide. “Laid.”
Andrei rolled his eyes, not even trying to hold back his chuckle. “You wish. Try again.”
“Sex on Fire.”
“Nope, try again.”
“Gimme More.”
Andrei threw his head back, laughing loudly. “You just listed a Brittany Spears song. I’m losing respect for you.”
“Whatever. You recognized it.” Lucas gave a wave of his hand, a slight blush to his cheeks. “Just so long as the song isn’t I Kissed A Girl, we’re good.”
“And what would your song be?” Andrei folded his hands over his stomach and lifted his eyebrows, prompting Lucas.
“You Make Me Smile.”
Andrei’s expression softened and his words were little more than a whisper. “You fight dirty.”
“For you? Every time.”
I can’t wait to introduce you to more of Lucas and Andrei when Shiver is released on October 27. To get the latest updates, follow us on Twitter and Facebook. Also, you can see the lovely inspirations we’ve had for the series on our Tumblr page.
Shiver will be out on October 27. We are aiming to release it both as an ebook and in print. If you are excited about Shiver, you can pre-order the ebook from Amazon by clicking here. More vendors will be appearing shortly.
September 16, 2015
Down the Rabbit Hole...
As you know, I've been writing, which is always a journey down the rabbit hole. Well, I guess I'm always writing. And writing and writing and writing. It takes a helluva lot of writing (particularly bad writing) to get a a book done and into the hot little hands of readers. But I'm happy to report that my next book -- and the first book co-written with Rinda Elliott -- is very nearly out. Yep, we've got just a little more than a month until the release of SHIVER.
In case you haven't caught the announcements over on our joint website, SHIVER is the first book in The Unbreakable Bond Series. It will be release on October 27. I have switched genres (Click here to learn about the change) and I'm having so much fun!
Would you like to know what SHIVER is about? Here is a description of the book:
Lucas Vallois is always in control. He’s building an empire in the glittering city of Cincinnati and created his own family from his three close friends. The self-made millionaire has everything he wants within his tight grasp. But his world starts to crumble after he’s jumped by a trio of thugs late one night after leaving a club. The warning is clear—give up his new property venture or end up dead.
Caving to the demands of his friends, Lucas accepts the help of bodyguard, Andrei Hadeon, as as he hunts for the source of this new threat. But as Lucas gets closer to uncovering the danger, he realizes the sexy Romanian bodyguard poses an even bigger risk to his carefully constructed world. Trapped by a need he never expected, Lucas must find a way to deny the shiver of longing he cannot control.
His brother. His warrior. His heart. Four friends. Unbreakable bonds.
Doesn't that sound like so much fun?!?!? Okay, I know I'm biased but it was fun!
We will be revealing a very awesome cover next week and we will be posting some tantalizing snippets in the coming weeks.
You can keep up with all the updates on our joint sites below:
Website
Facebook
Twitter
Tumblr -- this one has all the yummy pictures we've used for inspiration.
In case you haven't caught the announcements over on our joint website, SHIVER is the first book in The Unbreakable Bond Series. It will be release on October 27. I have switched genres (Click here to learn about the change) and I'm having so much fun!
Would you like to know what SHIVER is about? Here is a description of the book:
Lucas Vallois is always in control. He’s building an empire in the glittering city of Cincinnati and created his own family from his three close friends. The self-made millionaire has everything he wants within his tight grasp. But his world starts to crumble after he’s jumped by a trio of thugs late one night after leaving a club. The warning is clear—give up his new property venture or end up dead.
Caving to the demands of his friends, Lucas accepts the help of bodyguard, Andrei Hadeon, as as he hunts for the source of this new threat. But as Lucas gets closer to uncovering the danger, he realizes the sexy Romanian bodyguard poses an even bigger risk to his carefully constructed world. Trapped by a need he never expected, Lucas must find a way to deny the shiver of longing he cannot control.
His brother. His warrior. His heart. Four friends. Unbreakable bonds.
Doesn't that sound like so much fun?!?!? Okay, I know I'm biased but it was fun!
We will be revealing a very awesome cover next week and we will be posting some tantalizing snippets in the coming weeks.
You can keep up with all the updates on our joint sites below:
Website
Tumblr -- this one has all the yummy pictures we've used for inspiration.
December 28, 2014
Revisiting Low Town: Will I Ever See Gage Again?
I've ended two series now -- Dark Days and Asylum Tales -- but I haven't managed to make a clean break. I don't know how many authors ever achieve such a thing. It seems like we all drift back to write a short story or a novella or a spin-off novel when we've said we were "done." For the Dark Days series, it was "Bound to Me," a novella that was really a prequel to the series that gave you a look at Mira and Valerio. For Asylum ... that's tricky.
You see... there's only so much I can say here because many readers might not have read Inner Demon and I don't want to spoil the end for people. But I understand you have questions. Questions about Gage, Trixie, Bronx, the Towers, Lilith...
Let me see if I can do a delicate tap dance to answer your questions without giving away surprises.
Am I going to write another Asylum Tales book?
Technically, no.
Really? Technically...
The Asylum Tales series derives its name for the Asylum Tattoo Parlor, which is owned by Gage Powell. All Asylum Tales stories -- from the novellas to the novels to the short story -- are told from Gage's point of view. Simply, there won't be any more stories told from Gage's point of view. In my eyes, I'm finished with his leg of the journey in Low Town. As such, no more Asylum Tales books.
Okay, so I feel like there's a big "but" coming ...
Dancing in my head is a new book set in Gage's world, but it is set about 20-30 years in the future from the ending of Inner Demon . There would be a totally new storyteller. If you've read Demon's Fury , then you can probably guess as to who the new storyteller is going to be. (Yeah, I'm that evil.)
Have you started writing that? When will be we be able to read it?
No, I haven't started writing it yet. I am working on these projects at the moment - one of which includes a spin-off for the Dark Days series. If I finish the book, I will make sure that you have a way of reading it, whether it's released through a publisher, self-pubbed, or just posted on my website.
You see... there's only so much I can say here because many readers might not have read Inner Demon and I don't want to spoil the end for people. But I understand you have questions. Questions about Gage, Trixie, Bronx, the Towers, Lilith...
Let me see if I can do a delicate tap dance to answer your questions without giving away surprises.
Am I going to write another Asylum Tales book?
Technically, no.
Really? Technically...
The Asylum Tales series derives its name for the Asylum Tattoo Parlor, which is owned by Gage Powell. All Asylum Tales stories -- from the novellas to the novels to the short story -- are told from Gage's point of view. Simply, there won't be any more stories told from Gage's point of view. In my eyes, I'm finished with his leg of the journey in Low Town. As such, no more Asylum Tales books.
Okay, so I feel like there's a big "but" coming ...
Dancing in my head is a new book set in Gage's world, but it is set about 20-30 years in the future from the ending of Inner Demon . There would be a totally new storyteller. If you've read Demon's Fury , then you can probably guess as to who the new storyteller is going to be. (Yeah, I'm that evil.)
Have you started writing that? When will be we be able to read it?
No, I haven't started writing it yet. I am working on these projects at the moment - one of which includes a spin-off for the Dark Days series. If I finish the book, I will make sure that you have a way of reading it, whether it's released through a publisher, self-pubbed, or just posted on my website.
October 6, 2014
My Favorite Asylum Tales Characters
We have just over two weeks until the Final Asylum Tales is released. You'll get your first look at Demon's Fury and Gage's final journey through Low Town. As we count down the last days, I thought I would take a moment to wander down memory lane and pick out some of my favorite Asylum Tales characters or creatures.
I love working on the Asylum Tales series because it gave me free rein to include any fantastical creature that crossed my mind. I've got collections of books on legends, myths, and fairy tales from around the world. Gage had a chance to meet them all.
Favorite Asylum Tales Characters
Lori the Lorialet (originally appeared in Dead Man's Deal) - I will admit that I first thought of Lori while I was working on the Dark Days series, but I just couldn't work him into the series. He wasn't a good fit. However, when Gage had to confront the Summer Elves for Trixie's freedom, it seemed only fitting that Lori might be found among their people.
A lorialet is where the term lunatic comes from. The children of Selene, goddess of the moon, they are the daydreams and artisans of the world. Their style of dress is somewhat bohemian and they have slow, meandering manner to them. I can think of nothing that would hurry them along. They had a sort of detached feeling to them and some part of them longs to return to the moon and stars. Lori was Trixie's mentor when she lived among her people and he had fond memories of her.
Lori also has a knack for driving Gage insane. The young tattoo artist is always in a rush. The world is constantly threatening to come apart around him and he is the only one who can save it all. Lori can't grasp Gage's need to rush but he wants to help Trixie.
The Gargoyles (originally appeared in The Asylum Interviews: Trixie) were an interesting surprise. I needed someone who saw everything within the city and yet managed to go unseen. I've wanted to write about gargoyles for a long time in an urban fantasy but hadn't had the chance yet. I wish I could have done more with them, particularly since they have such a tragic story, but there's only so much ground you can cover in a short story. However, I was glad I could include their unique preference for cereal.
Jackson Wagnalls (aka Jack) came around in the end. Of all the minor characters, he's the one who had managed to sneak a part in all three novels as well as one short story. Sure, I can understand why Jack might have an issue with Gage after the Chihuahua incident, but the werewolf had it coming. I think at his heart, Jack is a good guy and if there were ever time in my writing schedule, I'd love to give the man his own book, if only so he could find his own happy ending. The werewolf Alpha cares for his pack and is trying his best to protect them. He also cares for his city. But it's hard being a good guy when you've got the Towers pressing down on you and a dark elf mafia boss calling the shots.
Chang was so dear to my heart. I think that might be why he appeared in nearly every Asylum Tales story that was released. He was wily, brilliant, funny, and the old black market dealer had nearly everything you could think of in his giant treasure trove of goods. Need a flying carpet? Shards of a Leprechaun's rainbow? Excalibur? A pirate's treasure map? Aladdin's lamp? The man had it and would sell it to you for a price. But Chang had something far more important to offer Gage than hidden and lost treasures. Chang was a source of boundless wisdom for Gage. Much like Gideon, Chang became a reality check for the tattoo artist. He help Gage find perspective, direction, and hope.
And before you ask: Yes, you will find out what Chang is in the Final Asylum Tales.
Bronx. Bronx, Bronx, Bronx. I have a serious soft spot for the troll. I never expected him to be quite so wonderful. I mean, he's a troll. He's big, ugly, brutish. But he has the soul of a poet and the mind of a scholar. When you expect him to break into a scene, smashing everything in sight, he uses his brain and thinks his way out of a dangerous situation. He is one of the truest friends for Gage through the entire series. He would go to the end of the Earth for Gage without hesitating, and I think he knows that Gage would do the same for him.
Outside of Gage -- who is naturally my ultimate favorite Asylum Tales character -- these have been some of my favorite Asylum Tales characters. Who was your favorite character from the series?
I love working on the Asylum Tales series because it gave me free rein to include any fantastical creature that crossed my mind. I've got collections of books on legends, myths, and fairy tales from around the world. Gage had a chance to meet them all.
Favorite Asylum Tales Characters
Lori the Lorialet (originally appeared in Dead Man's Deal) - I will admit that I first thought of Lori while I was working on the Dark Days series, but I just couldn't work him into the series. He wasn't a good fit. However, when Gage had to confront the Summer Elves for Trixie's freedom, it seemed only fitting that Lori might be found among their people.
A lorialet is where the term lunatic comes from. The children of Selene, goddess of the moon, they are the daydreams and artisans of the world. Their style of dress is somewhat bohemian and they have slow, meandering manner to them. I can think of nothing that would hurry them along. They had a sort of detached feeling to them and some part of them longs to return to the moon and stars. Lori was Trixie's mentor when she lived among her people and he had fond memories of her.
Lori also has a knack for driving Gage insane. The young tattoo artist is always in a rush. The world is constantly threatening to come apart around him and he is the only one who can save it all. Lori can't grasp Gage's need to rush but he wants to help Trixie.
The Gargoyles (originally appeared in The Asylum Interviews: Trixie) were an interesting surprise. I needed someone who saw everything within the city and yet managed to go unseen. I've wanted to write about gargoyles for a long time in an urban fantasy but hadn't had the chance yet. I wish I could have done more with them, particularly since they have such a tragic story, but there's only so much ground you can cover in a short story. However, I was glad I could include their unique preference for cereal.
Jackson Wagnalls (aka Jack) came around in the end. Of all the minor characters, he's the one who had managed to sneak a part in all three novels as well as one short story. Sure, I can understand why Jack might have an issue with Gage after the Chihuahua incident, but the werewolf had it coming. I think at his heart, Jack is a good guy and if there were ever time in my writing schedule, I'd love to give the man his own book, if only so he could find his own happy ending. The werewolf Alpha cares for his pack and is trying his best to protect them. He also cares for his city. But it's hard being a good guy when you've got the Towers pressing down on you and a dark elf mafia boss calling the shots.
Chang was so dear to my heart. I think that might be why he appeared in nearly every Asylum Tales story that was released. He was wily, brilliant, funny, and the old black market dealer had nearly everything you could think of in his giant treasure trove of goods. Need a flying carpet? Shards of a Leprechaun's rainbow? Excalibur? A pirate's treasure map? Aladdin's lamp? The man had it and would sell it to you for a price. But Chang had something far more important to offer Gage than hidden and lost treasures. Chang was a source of boundless wisdom for Gage. Much like Gideon, Chang became a reality check for the tattoo artist. He help Gage find perspective, direction, and hope.
And before you ask: Yes, you will find out what Chang is in the Final Asylum Tales.
Bronx. Bronx, Bronx, Bronx. I have a serious soft spot for the troll. I never expected him to be quite so wonderful. I mean, he's a troll. He's big, ugly, brutish. But he has the soul of a poet and the mind of a scholar. When you expect him to break into a scene, smashing everything in sight, he uses his brain and thinks his way out of a dangerous situation. He is one of the truest friends for Gage through the entire series. He would go to the end of the Earth for Gage without hesitating, and I think he knows that Gage would do the same for him.
Outside of Gage -- who is naturally my ultimate favorite Asylum Tales character -- these have been some of my favorite Asylum Tales characters. Who was your favorite character from the series?
September 29, 2014
Why You Need To Journey Through the Asylum Tales
In 2010, I was finishing up the final book in the Dark Days series, preparing to say good-bye to characters that I'd worked with for approximately 6 years, and I needed to work on a new project. The only thing I was sure of was that I wanted something completely different from Mira, Danaus, and the rest of the gang who had traveled the globe. I wanted to laugh more. I wanted to bend magic and play with more paranormal creatures than I'd ever dared to before. I didn't want just vampires and werewolves. No, I wanted to play with sirens, elves, incubi, trolls, ogres, pixies, and heaven only knows what else. What's more, I didn't want them all living in hiding, pretending that the humans were walking around the world with their eyes closed. No, these sirens, trolls, and shifters were living right next door to the humans. From there, the Asylum Tales was born.
Gage Powell was born in my fevered little brain with a mix of laughter in his heart, sarcasm on his tongue, and a mind filled with magic. And when he had a horrible falling out with the witches and warlocks who were trying to crush all the species filling the world, Gage went into hiding and became a potion-stirring tattoo artist. His best friends are an incubus and a troll. His girlfriend... she's an elf pretending to be a human.
As you might expect when you throw a world together with all types of magical creatures and relics, you get regular craziness that is so much fun. Running with Gage as he fights vampires, dark elves, warlocks, and even the Grim Reaper. has been a wonderful adventure.
And then you get to know Gage and you learn the incredible lengths that he will go to in order to protect his friends and the town that he care so much about.
Curious yet?
The great thing is that now is a perfect time to start this series if you haven't given it a try yet. The series has 6 individual stories, detailing the crazy world of Low Town, the Ivory Towers, Asylum Tattoo Parlor, and so much more, and 5 of the stories are on sale now.
The first story is The Asylum Interviews: Bronx. A novella that tells the story of how Gage came to hire Bronx, the troll, while at the same time helping an incubus with his complicated love life using an equality complicated tattoo.
The second story is The Asylum Interviews: Trixie. Another novella, this story shows readers how Gage met Trixie and helped save Gage's ex-girlfriend, a vampire who is having some problems with her new nest.
The first full-length novel is Angel's Ink. Gage attempts to help a poor dying woman by giving her a special tattoo that has some extremely screwed up results. At the same time, he's dealing with a nasty someone who has figured out Gage's dirty secret. Oh... and Gage finally tries to do something about his love life, or maybe his lack of a love life.
The second full-length novel is Dead Man's Deal. The stakes are even higher for the second book. A power-mad elf has trapped Gage in an ugly spot, endangering his family and his friends. Of course, he isn't busy enough. Trixie is trying to finally get free of the man who is chasing her but Gage has to strike a deal with the man's wife. In this journey to find a cure to a witch's curse, he meets a soul from his future.
Take a quick side trip in a short story from the Blood by Moonlight anthology. It's All Hallows Eve and the Low Town shifters are about to go to war with the Winter Court. Gage and Trixie step up to help Jack and the shifters, but it could come at a high price for Gage.
The Final Asylum Tales novel is set to be released on October 14, 21, and 28. The stories are called Demon's Fury, Demon's Vow, and Inner Demon. Gage is about to go on one last journey as he takes on two different killers while searching for the one magical trick that will protect the one person he loves in the world. Can Gage save Low Town and his love before it is too late?
Now is the best time to start the Asylum Tales
All the ebooks are now on sale!
Gage Powell was born in my fevered little brain with a mix of laughter in his heart, sarcasm on his tongue, and a mind filled with magic. And when he had a horrible falling out with the witches and warlocks who were trying to crush all the species filling the world, Gage went into hiding and became a potion-stirring tattoo artist. His best friends are an incubus and a troll. His girlfriend... she's an elf pretending to be a human.
As you might expect when you throw a world together with all types of magical creatures and relics, you get regular craziness that is so much fun. Running with Gage as he fights vampires, dark elves, warlocks, and even the Grim Reaper. has been a wonderful adventure.
And then you get to know Gage and you learn the incredible lengths that he will go to in order to protect his friends and the town that he care so much about.
Curious yet?
The great thing is that now is a perfect time to start this series if you haven't given it a try yet. The series has 6 individual stories, detailing the crazy world of Low Town, the Ivory Towers, Asylum Tattoo Parlor, and so much more, and 5 of the stories are on sale now.
The first story is The Asylum Interviews: Bronx. A novella that tells the story of how Gage came to hire Bronx, the troll, while at the same time helping an incubus with his complicated love life using an equality complicated tattoo.
The second story is The Asylum Interviews: Trixie. Another novella, this story shows readers how Gage met Trixie and helped save Gage's ex-girlfriend, a vampire who is having some problems with her new nest.
The first full-length novel is Angel's Ink. Gage attempts to help a poor dying woman by giving her a special tattoo that has some extremely screwed up results. At the same time, he's dealing with a nasty someone who has figured out Gage's dirty secret. Oh... and Gage finally tries to do something about his love life, or maybe his lack of a love life.
The second full-length novel is Dead Man's Deal. The stakes are even higher for the second book. A power-mad elf has trapped Gage in an ugly spot, endangering his family and his friends. Of course, he isn't busy enough. Trixie is trying to finally get free of the man who is chasing her but Gage has to strike a deal with the man's wife. In this journey to find a cure to a witch's curse, he meets a soul from his future.
Take a quick side trip in a short story from the Blood by Moonlight anthology. It's All Hallows Eve and the Low Town shifters are about to go to war with the Winter Court. Gage and Trixie step up to help Jack and the shifters, but it could come at a high price for Gage.
The Final Asylum Tales novel is set to be released on October 14, 21, and 28. The stories are called Demon's Fury, Demon's Vow, and Inner Demon. Gage is about to go on one last journey as he takes on two different killers while searching for the one magical trick that will protect the one person he loves in the world. Can Gage save Low Town and his love before it is too late?
Now is the best time to start the Asylum Tales
All the ebooks are now on sale!
September 10, 2014
A Gnome Named Nanni: My D&D Adventure
If you caught my Facebook post over the weekend, you know that I went on a little adventure this weekend. No, that's probably an exaggeration. How about... I tried something new that I've always wanted to do! Yes, that's better. I met up with some friends and we created Dungeons & Dragons characters. Yep! I'm going to try to play D&D and I can't wait!
In junior high, a friend introduced me to romance novels. And during my freshman year, a different friend introduced me to fantasy novels. It was simply stunning. My mind screamed, "HOW DID I NOT KNOW YOU COULD WRITE THINGS LIKE THIS!!" During high school and college I even wrote my first fantasy novels and have always wanted to go back.
This could prove to be the kick in the pants I've been looking for to get back to it.
Anyway....
We only got as far as creating our characters since myself and one other person were completely new to this. If you're curious, I have created a character named Frigga "Nanni" of Ingebjorde. She's a gnome bard who is 34 years old and 3'2" tall. If you've played D&D, you're more interested in knowing that she's got:
Strength = 12
Dexterity = 16 (+1)
Constitution = 12 (+8)
Intelligence = 15
Wisdom = 15
Charisma = 17
and an armor class of -2.
At the moment, I don't know what any of that means, but my husband says it's good. When we actually get playing, I'll report back as to whether the dark elf I married is lying to me.
As soon as I met Nanni, I needed to start telling her story as well as the story of the others she would be traveling with. Being a storyteller, I couldn't help but start to imagine how she would meet the others. I thought I'd share what is running through my mind. (I will admit this isn't how the adventure is going to go because we haven't started playing yet. I just needed to get Nanni's playful and curious personality down in my head if I was going on a quest with her.)
I hope you enjoy meeting Nanni, the gnome.
Another group of large humans shoved their way into the Drunken Dwarf Inn, shouting for ale to celebrate the goddess, even if her holy day didn't start until sunrise. It didn't matter. Tomorrow was a day of rest and celebration for the people of Ravenhold, which meant that it was a day of drinking and eating and general merrymaking without the threat of consequences, or so the revelers told themselves as they laughed and sang among themselves.
The local farmers had started pouring into the main room of the inn shortly after noon, enjoying its lower rates for rooms and food than what would be found in the city. The Drunken Dwarf was located just outside the city walls, allowing the area farmers and country folk to enjoy the festivities in the city that was less than an hour's walk away and return come nightfall to sleep off the alcohol before trudging back to their fields, forges, and workshops the next day. The air stunk of sweat, sour ale, and a thick stew that had hung over the cook fire all day, but no one seemed to care.
Goddess Lorenthine's holiday was the last of the summer, celebrated before the fall harvest was brought in and the first sharp bite of winter. There wouldn't be another time of revelry and drinking with friends until the spring planting was completed.
It was all the more reason to take advantage of a good situation, thought the gnome as she idly plucked at the lute lightly clutched in her slender nimble fingers. Nanni's wide brown eyes danced over the crowd, wondering at how they continued to add more bodies into the already packed room. The large torsos of the humans and even a few western mountain dwarves filled the inn so that there was barely room for air.
The inn keeper had already shouted at the barmaids to steal the tables from the main room and to put them out in courtyard beside the stables while lanterns were hung from the old, gnarled trees that shaded the building. As far as Nanni could tell, too few people were willing to venture to the cooler, more comfortable night air to drink. Maybe it was simply too far from the casks of ale and Morellian rum the inn keeper was doling out as fast as he could stick a tankard under the spigot.
For now, the mood of the room was amiable and lively, but Nanni had been around enough holiday celebrations, coronations, and royal births to know that the mood could change fast enough when men were deep in their cups.
With her lute tuned, Nanni scanned the room again, picking out her first targets for the evening. Most of the occupants were humans -- the majority being males, though there were a few exceptions beyond that barmaids attempting to squeeze between bodies to serve drinks and the occasional bowl of stew with a chunk of hard rye bread. There were two tables of dwarves in one corner, but they were hours away from being drunk enough to pay for a song or story.
Leaning forward under the guise of grabbing her own drink, Nanni checked to see that the half-elf she'd spotted when she walked into the tavern two hours ago was still in the same spot, nursing his drink. His manner was stiff and cautious, as if anxiously watching the crowd before him, but Nanni simply smiled to herself. He wasn't going to be a target for a few coins, though she expected him to get much more intoxicated as the night wore on. There was no missing the symbol of Lorenthine hanging around his neck. Whether a former cleric or still practicing, the half-elf would not pass up this holiday to celebrate his patron goddess, even if he didn't quite care for his company.
No, tonight was going to be songs and extravagant tales of battles and shining conquests for the humans, and maybe one bawdy song for the dwarves to keep them drinking. Strumming her lute in time to a lively and popular tune that had paid her meal on more than one occasion, Nanni started to open her mouth to sing when her voice became trapped in her throat.
A drow had just walked into the tavern. Her fingers froze on the strings and all memory of merry songs fled her mind as she stared at the tall, dark figure casting his long shadow from the doorway. Cold, pale eyes swept over the room that had gone as silent as a church at midnight. A dark elf rarely left his clan nestled deep within the bowels of the earth and when they ventured forth, death and ruin was left in their wake.
Nanni held her breath, willing her heart to start beating again, as she waited for more drow to follow. But it never happened. This one was alone, not that it made him any less dangerous. No, but a single drow was less likely to cause problems in a crowded inn. Well, certainly less likely so long as none of the occupants of the inn started trouble with him.
Clutching her lute tightly to her chest, the gnome jumped up on her stool so that her three-foot-height stood only slightly above any who were still standing within the main room and raised her lilting voice in a bawdy song of man who set to wooing all six daughters of a wealthy landowner and then leaving them the next morn. By the time she reached the chorus, the majority of the inn occupants were singing along to the tune, forgetting the dark shadow that lingered in their midst.
Glancing back to the drow as she started the second verse, she saw him give her an almost imperceptible nod before heading to the bar. Interesting, she thought. Certainly, the drow wouldn't count himself within her debt for simply keeping the crowd from falling into violence, but it definitely didn't hurt that she was in the dark elf's good graces for now.
In truth, she couldn't say that she had acted so quickly because of him. It wasn't as if she could hope to use her charm or even a little magical push to earn some coin off of him, no matter how good she was. No, this was about her purse and her belly. A fight with the drow would definitely destroy the joyous mood and possibly bring the patrol to the inn -- two things that would keep her from earning what she needed to pay her way into Ravenhold for the celebration as well as secure a room at an inn in a nicer part of town.
But all the same, she'd keep an eye on the drow. The dark elves weren't ones to travel far from home and never without their brethren. No, this drow was up to mischief or adventure, and Nanni was confident that either was going to be far more interesting that yet another holy holiday of drinking, eating, and fornicating.
In junior high, a friend introduced me to romance novels. And during my freshman year, a different friend introduced me to fantasy novels. It was simply stunning. My mind screamed, "HOW DID I NOT KNOW YOU COULD WRITE THINGS LIKE THIS!!" During high school and college I even wrote my first fantasy novels and have always wanted to go back.
This could prove to be the kick in the pants I've been looking for to get back to it.
Anyway....
We only got as far as creating our characters since myself and one other person were completely new to this. If you're curious, I have created a character named Frigga "Nanni" of Ingebjorde. She's a gnome bard who is 34 years old and 3'2" tall. If you've played D&D, you're more interested in knowing that she's got:
Strength = 12
Dexterity = 16 (+1)
Constitution = 12 (+8)
Intelligence = 15
Wisdom = 15
Charisma = 17
and an armor class of -2.
At the moment, I don't know what any of that means, but my husband says it's good. When we actually get playing, I'll report back as to whether the dark elf I married is lying to me.
As soon as I met Nanni, I needed to start telling her story as well as the story of the others she would be traveling with. Being a storyteller, I couldn't help but start to imagine how she would meet the others. I thought I'd share what is running through my mind. (I will admit this isn't how the adventure is going to go because we haven't started playing yet. I just needed to get Nanni's playful and curious personality down in my head if I was going on a quest with her.)
I hope you enjoy meeting Nanni, the gnome.
Another group of large humans shoved their way into the Drunken Dwarf Inn, shouting for ale to celebrate the goddess, even if her holy day didn't start until sunrise. It didn't matter. Tomorrow was a day of rest and celebration for the people of Ravenhold, which meant that it was a day of drinking and eating and general merrymaking without the threat of consequences, or so the revelers told themselves as they laughed and sang among themselves.
The local farmers had started pouring into the main room of the inn shortly after noon, enjoying its lower rates for rooms and food than what would be found in the city. The Drunken Dwarf was located just outside the city walls, allowing the area farmers and country folk to enjoy the festivities in the city that was less than an hour's walk away and return come nightfall to sleep off the alcohol before trudging back to their fields, forges, and workshops the next day. The air stunk of sweat, sour ale, and a thick stew that had hung over the cook fire all day, but no one seemed to care.
Goddess Lorenthine's holiday was the last of the summer, celebrated before the fall harvest was brought in and the first sharp bite of winter. There wouldn't be another time of revelry and drinking with friends until the spring planting was completed.
It was all the more reason to take advantage of a good situation, thought the gnome as she idly plucked at the lute lightly clutched in her slender nimble fingers. Nanni's wide brown eyes danced over the crowd, wondering at how they continued to add more bodies into the already packed room. The large torsos of the humans and even a few western mountain dwarves filled the inn so that there was barely room for air.
The inn keeper had already shouted at the barmaids to steal the tables from the main room and to put them out in courtyard beside the stables while lanterns were hung from the old, gnarled trees that shaded the building. As far as Nanni could tell, too few people were willing to venture to the cooler, more comfortable night air to drink. Maybe it was simply too far from the casks of ale and Morellian rum the inn keeper was doling out as fast as he could stick a tankard under the spigot.
For now, the mood of the room was amiable and lively, but Nanni had been around enough holiday celebrations, coronations, and royal births to know that the mood could change fast enough when men were deep in their cups.
With her lute tuned, Nanni scanned the room again, picking out her first targets for the evening. Most of the occupants were humans -- the majority being males, though there were a few exceptions beyond that barmaids attempting to squeeze between bodies to serve drinks and the occasional bowl of stew with a chunk of hard rye bread. There were two tables of dwarves in one corner, but they were hours away from being drunk enough to pay for a song or story.
Leaning forward under the guise of grabbing her own drink, Nanni checked to see that the half-elf she'd spotted when she walked into the tavern two hours ago was still in the same spot, nursing his drink. His manner was stiff and cautious, as if anxiously watching the crowd before him, but Nanni simply smiled to herself. He wasn't going to be a target for a few coins, though she expected him to get much more intoxicated as the night wore on. There was no missing the symbol of Lorenthine hanging around his neck. Whether a former cleric or still practicing, the half-elf would not pass up this holiday to celebrate his patron goddess, even if he didn't quite care for his company.
No, tonight was going to be songs and extravagant tales of battles and shining conquests for the humans, and maybe one bawdy song for the dwarves to keep them drinking. Strumming her lute in time to a lively and popular tune that had paid her meal on more than one occasion, Nanni started to open her mouth to sing when her voice became trapped in her throat.
A drow had just walked into the tavern. Her fingers froze on the strings and all memory of merry songs fled her mind as she stared at the tall, dark figure casting his long shadow from the doorway. Cold, pale eyes swept over the room that had gone as silent as a church at midnight. A dark elf rarely left his clan nestled deep within the bowels of the earth and when they ventured forth, death and ruin was left in their wake.
Nanni held her breath, willing her heart to start beating again, as she waited for more drow to follow. But it never happened. This one was alone, not that it made him any less dangerous. No, but a single drow was less likely to cause problems in a crowded inn. Well, certainly less likely so long as none of the occupants of the inn started trouble with him.
Clutching her lute tightly to her chest, the gnome jumped up on her stool so that her three-foot-height stood only slightly above any who were still standing within the main room and raised her lilting voice in a bawdy song of man who set to wooing all six daughters of a wealthy landowner and then leaving them the next morn. By the time she reached the chorus, the majority of the inn occupants were singing along to the tune, forgetting the dark shadow that lingered in their midst.
Glancing back to the drow as she started the second verse, she saw him give her an almost imperceptible nod before heading to the bar. Interesting, she thought. Certainly, the drow wouldn't count himself within her debt for simply keeping the crowd from falling into violence, but it definitely didn't hurt that she was in the dark elf's good graces for now.
In truth, she couldn't say that she had acted so quickly because of him. It wasn't as if she could hope to use her charm or even a little magical push to earn some coin off of him, no matter how good she was. No, this was about her purse and her belly. A fight with the drow would definitely destroy the joyous mood and possibly bring the patrol to the inn -- two things that would keep her from earning what she needed to pay her way into Ravenhold for the celebration as well as secure a room at an inn in a nicer part of town.
But all the same, she'd keep an eye on the drow. The dark elves weren't ones to travel far from home and never without their brethren. No, this drow was up to mischief or adventure, and Nanni was confident that either was going to be far more interesting that yet another holy holiday of drinking, eating, and fornicating.
September 2, 2014
Crazy Ebook Sale
I'm sorry I wasn't able to get the news to you sooner. I just happened to pop over to Amazon to check on the date of a book release and discovered that several of my ebooks are on sale. As in, a HUGE sale!
Here is a quick list:
The Asylum Tales for Kindle:
The Asylum Interviews: Bronx is $0.99 for Kindle
The Asylum Interviews: Trixie is $0.99 for Kindle
Angel's Ink is $1.99 for Kindle
Dead Man's Deal is $1.99 for Kindle
Demon's Fury - Part 1 of the Final Asylum Tales novel is FREE for Kindle -- Yes, you can get the first installment of the final book for FREE when it comes out on October 14.
In summary, that's 2 novels, 2 novellas, and the first part of the final book for less than $6. That's a lot of reading for a little price.
The Dark Days series for Kindle:
Nightwalker isn't on sale but you can' pick it up for only $6.83
Dayhunter is on sale for $1.99 for Kindle
Dawnbreaker is on sale for $1.99 for Kindle
Pray for Dawn is selling for $6.64 for Kindle
Wait for Dusk is on sale for $3.99 for Kindle
Burn the Night is on sale for $1.99 for Kindle
And don't forget about the novellas:
Bound to Me is on sale for $1.99 for Kindle
The Dead, the Damned and the Forgotten is on sale for $0.99 for Kindle
If you haven't started the Dark Days series yet, this sale marks a great time to pick up the stories now. You can get all the Dark Days stories (6 novels and 2 novellas) for just over $26. That comes to $3.30 per story.
I don't know how much longer the books will be on sale so I would grab them up now and tell a friend!!
The Humble Bundle
And finally, would you like to buy some great books at a small price AND support a good cause at the same time?
I thought you might. The Humble Bundle is still going to a little while longer. It includes books from Neil Gaiman, Kim Harrison, Vicki Pettersson, Nick Cole, and myself. You can find out more information here.
Correction: Books on Sale on Kobo
Too!!!
Hey Look! I just found that the books are on sale on Kobo too!
Asylum Tales
The Asylum Interviews: Bronx
The Asylum Interviews: Trixie
Angel's Ink
Dead Man's Deal
Dark Days Series
Dayhunter
Dawnbreaker
Burn the Night
Now I'm heading back in to finish my final edits. Happy Reading!
Here is a quick list:
The Asylum Tales for Kindle:
The Asylum Interviews: Bronx is $0.99 for Kindle
The Asylum Interviews: Trixie is $0.99 for Kindle
Angel's Ink is $1.99 for Kindle
Dead Man's Deal is $1.99 for Kindle
Demon's Fury - Part 1 of the Final Asylum Tales novel is FREE for Kindle -- Yes, you can get the first installment of the final book for FREE when it comes out on October 14.
In summary, that's 2 novels, 2 novellas, and the first part of the final book for less than $6. That's a lot of reading for a little price.
The Dark Days series for Kindle:
Nightwalker isn't on sale but you can' pick it up for only $6.83
Dayhunter is on sale for $1.99 for Kindle
Dawnbreaker is on sale for $1.99 for Kindle
Pray for Dawn is selling for $6.64 for Kindle
Wait for Dusk is on sale for $3.99 for Kindle
Burn the Night is on sale for $1.99 for Kindle
And don't forget about the novellas:
Bound to Me is on sale for $1.99 for Kindle
The Dead, the Damned and the Forgotten is on sale for $0.99 for Kindle
If you haven't started the Dark Days series yet, this sale marks a great time to pick up the stories now. You can get all the Dark Days stories (6 novels and 2 novellas) for just over $26. That comes to $3.30 per story.
I don't know how much longer the books will be on sale so I would grab them up now and tell a friend!!
The Humble Bundle
And finally, would you like to buy some great books at a small price AND support a good cause at the same time?
I thought you might. The Humble Bundle is still going to a little while longer. It includes books from Neil Gaiman, Kim Harrison, Vicki Pettersson, Nick Cole, and myself. You can find out more information here.
Correction: Books on Sale on Kobo
Too!!!
Hey Look! I just found that the books are on sale on Kobo too!
Asylum Tales
The Asylum Interviews: Bronx
The Asylum Interviews: Trixie
Angel's Ink
Dead Man's Deal
Dark Days Series
Dayhunter
Dawnbreaker
Burn the Night
Now I'm heading back in to finish my final edits. Happy Reading!
August 24, 2014
Long Lost Mira: Revisiting My Nightwalker
Last night, I was playing around on Facebook and I happened to change my cover image to a Dark Days cover. I was stunned by the reaction and outpouring of comments from readers, telling me how much they loved and missed Mira. The Dark Days series that followed the Fire Starter and the hunter Danaus was so much fun to work on and I'm so glad their story was my first published series of books. I love that fiery nightwalker and her stoic warrior.
In thanks for that love, I went digging through all the files I've kept for the Dark Days series, trying to find something I'd written that I might never have shown anyone before. There wasn't much to choose from, but I think I've got a little bit of something for my dear readers.
When I wrote the first draft of Dayhunter, there was a prologue. Yep, a prologue. But I don't think anyone has ever seen it besides my editor. The prologue was ultimately cut from the final draft, but I thought I'd show it to you now. Below is a flashback to something that happened before the start of the Dark Days series and gives some great background on why Mira hates the naturi. If you've never read the series, this snippet doesn't contain any spoilers so you're safe reading it.
Happy reading!
Prologue for Dayhunter
Pain slashed across my face.
Grass and dirt pressed against my skin. My thoughts were fragmented, slipping from my grasp before I could close my fingers around them. There was no floating on a gentle sea of oblivion, rocked by warm, comforting waves. There was only pain. White-hot pain biting at my muscles and gnawing on my bones.
With the pain came a growing consciousness and sharp clarity that I could do without. The sounds of fighting and the inevitable screams of dying drifted to my ears along with the scent of blood and smoke. Had I finally died and gone to Hell? The thought brought a faint smile to my lips, sending a fresh sliver of pain through my consciousness as I discovered my bottom lip was split and bleeding. No, Hell wouldn’t feel so … familiar.
A warm hand touched my left cheek, cradling my face with a surprising gentleness. For the first time, it occurred to me that someone was close. I could now feel the creature kneeling next to me, larger than life and more powerful than any I had ever known. Pushing against the last of the fog that crowded my thoughts, I forced my eyes open.
The face that looked down on me was filled with worry. His dark brown eyes were nearly black as shadows cast by the nearby flames danced across his broad features. His skin was almost as dark and rich as the night itself, while his perfectly white teeth were like catching a glimpse of the starlight on a cloudy night. He was Jabari, one of the oldest and strongest of the nightwalkers. An Elder – both a leader and protector.
“She’s awake?” inquired a sweet, feminine voice that I wished to never hear again. An older woman’s face appeared over Jabari’s right shoulder, staring down at me with concerned and calculating brown eyes.
I flinched at the sight of her. A low hiss slipped from the back of my throat. Over the crackle of the fire and the sounds of battle, I doubted either of them had heard the noise, but Jabari’s thumb slowly moved across my cheekbone and his left arm cradled my shoulders while his hand wrapped around my upper left arm. He didn’t pull me any closer, but I felt has as if he had gathered me into his arms, putting me out of reach of my maker.
“She is awake,” he replied. His deep voice rumbled around me, carrying with it a thick accent of a people long gone from this earth. “I will see to her needs.”
A frisson of power rippled through the air around us and again I flinched before I could stop myself. The power came from Sadira. There was no question of it. I knew the touch of her hand just as well I as knew the cold snap of the powers. I forced my gaze to her face, but she was staring down at the back of Jabari’s head. Her eyes glowed with an icy light and her features were pulled taunt as she pressed her lips into a hard, unyielding line.
“She is my daughter.” A faint tremble threaded its way through each syllable as she carefully enunciated each word so there would be no mistake.
“She was.” My eyes jerked back to Jabari to find the Ancient nightwalker smiling down at me, his thumb grazing my cheek in a feather-light caress. “See to our enemies or leave here.”
After several seconds, I finally tore my shocked gaze from Jabari’s face to find that Sadira was no longer standing behind him. She was gone. Gone from the battle. Gone from my life. A fine shaking started in my limbs and grew until my teeth chattered. I was free from Sadira, at last. I had been with my maker for more than century, endured her attempts to break me. I had suffered through countless nights of physical and mental torture until I was no longer sure who I was, until the sounds of begging and crying had become lullabies that rocked me to sleep each morning.
I drew an shuddering breath into my lungs, ignoring the fresh pain that knifed through broken ribs that were still trying to mend, and closed my eyes against the wave of tears that was threatening to break. She was gone. When I opened my eyes again, I saw Jabari. His smile had faded, but his intense gaze never wavered from my face.
Had my fate truly improved? I had moved from Sadira to another creature infinitely more powerful and potentially more sadistic. Jabari could crush me in an instant if he desired it or keep me alive for centuries in a torment I had yet to face. But for a brief spark of time, it didn’t matter. For the first time in more than one hundred years, I was free of Sadira.
“You must get up,” Jabari said, breaking the silence that had grown between us. The hand cupping my cheek slid down around my shoulder so that I was now encircled in his arms as he forced me to sit up. Pain exploded in my body and I cried out before I could stop it. The world rolled and bucked beneath me, trying to knock loose my hold on consciousness, but I held tight, rising above it all. I blinked several time, pushing back the blackness that had briefly crowded my vision. Jabari moved aside so that he was kneeling beside me, his left arm behind my back, keeping me upright.
“No!” The single word escaped my parted lips in a fractured whisper as I took in the scene spread before me. I was still at Machu Picchu. The Incan stronghold was littered with the broken bodies of the naturi, nightwalkers, and humans. How could I have forgotten? The wave of pain and the surprise of being held by Jabari had pushed from my brain the scene that was playing out before me. But the memories were pouring back through me like a clear, cold mountain stream.
Two weeks ago, I had been kidnapped from Sadira’s grasp by the naturi while we were returning to her castle in Spain. For two seemingly endless weeks, the guardians of the earth had tortured me. They wanted me to turn on my own kind. The naturi, with their melodious voices and beguiling eyes, tried to convince me to protect them from the nightwalkers. Because even before I became a nightwalker, I was the Fire Starter. Fire was the best defense against a vampire when the sun was down.
But I refused. I wouldn’t betray my own kind.
The naturi were relentless. When I would not be swayed by pain, they thought to break me through compassion. A parade of humans were brought before me – men in their prime, women bright in bloom, babies fresh from their mothers’ womb – all were killed before my eyes when I refused to bow to their wishes.
I thought I would die on that mountaintop beneath the cold gaze of the heavens. The naturi worked to free their banished queen, return her to this world so they could continue their campaign of slaughter and destruction of mankind. Nightwalkers were the one and only line of defense for humans. And the naturi were determined to make me their first line of defense against the nightwalkers.
And then, Jabari appeared. A terrible, glorious figure. An avenging angel in the night. I felt the horde of nightwalkers that followed on his heels, remembered the sound of the battle that flowed around me, and then there was only a blinding white light and soul-rending pain.
I shuddered and clenched my teeth against the memory that was fighting its way back to the surface. It was too raw, a wound that could never close, not with a thousand stitches.
Jabari’s arm tightened around my shoulders, pulling me back toward the present. “Let it go,” he whispered. Just as the words were brushing against the inside of my ear, I felt a cool breeze sweeping through my mind, pushing the memory away so that a shaky sense of peace could settle into its place.
“I want to leave,” I murmured, trying to ignore the fact that I sounded like a small, frightened child.
“Not yet. You must do something first.”
My eyes jumped to Jabari’s face, questioning for only a breath. I wanted nothing more than to be away from this nightmarish place; to never see or hear of the naturi again. Yet, Jabari had saved me. He saved me from the naturi and he saved me from my maker. For that reason, I would do whatever he wished.
“You must destroy him.”
My gaze followed where Jabari pointed until it settled on a figure sitting on the ground a few yards away, watching me with burning hatred. A dark smile grew on my face and all of my pains and fears were instantly forgotten at the sight of Nerian. Jabari had charged me with a duty, but more importantly, he had given me the sweetest gift of all – the chance to kill my tormentor.
I paused in the act of moving from the safety of Jabari’s arms and looked up at his large brown eyes. “Aurora?” Before I headed back into the place where I had been held captive, I needed to know the strength of my enemy. Was the Aurora, Queen of the naturi, running free?
“No, Aurora remains caged. The door was never opened.” Jabari once again swept his thumb across my cheekbone.
“The war?”
“Delayed. Now, hurry! Time is against you.”
“As you wish,” I whispered, my gaze returning to Nerian.
My nails dug long furrows in the ground as I pulled myself back to my feet, only slightly aware of Jabari’s arm falling away from my shoulders. The earth swayed and rocked under my feet when I stood, but I held my balance. Above me, the sky was growing lighter. Dark midnight blues bled into dusty charcoal grays then into hues of faint pastels of purple and pink. The night was nearly gone and dawn was threatening to stretch her arms. I was running out of time.
Pushing aside thoughts of the waning night, I walked over to where Nerian was struggling to pull himself to his feet using the low wall behind him. The perfectly fitted white-gray stones were smeared with his blood and the blood of other creatures he had attacked before facing me. He was favoring his right leg. It was broken, but it wouldn’t stay that way for long. The naturi were fast healers, at least as fast as nightwalkers if not faster.
I paused for only a breath, staring at him. For two weeks, he had been my constant companion during my waking hours. He whispered dark promises and lurid nightmares in my ear while carving my body up with an assortment of blades. Each night they drained me of blood so that I could barely think beyond the haze of hunger and fed me only enough to keep me alive for another night. For the first week, a member of the naturi light clan stayed close, ensuring that I couldn’t use fire against another naturi member. By the second week, I was too weak to light a candle, let alone set my tormentor on fire.
But even now, without a light clan guardian, I couldn’t conjure a flame. I tried to end it quickly by setting Nerian on fire, but the earth wobbled under my feet and I nearly lost consciousness. I was too weak, my body too drained. So be it. I’d destroy the naturi the old-fashioned way.
I lunged at Nerian, my hands open with my nails trained like daggers on his throat. The naturi pulled out a short blade from a sheath on his waist and swung it at me. I jerked back before actually reaching skin. A snarl escaped me as I dodged the swinging blade. It sang as sliced through the air near my own neck. Muscles burned and protested each movement, but I pushed the pain aside and concentrated on the one thing I had dreamed of for two weeks – killing Nerian.
Spinning, I landed a kick to his abdomen. A second hit knocked the wind out of him before the blade could make another swipe at me. The blade grazed my arm as my heel slammed into his left knee, hammering it into the wall behind him. Even beneath the hard leather soles, I could still feel the crunch of bone. The sound of the shattering bone matched his wailing in a sweet song.
The naturi crumpled to the ground, dropping his blade; his right leg broken and his left knee shattered. The slash sent a stinging sensation along my arm as the poison from the blade seeped into my body. Blood ran down my arm and dripped from my trembling fingertips as the wound struggled to close.
My eyes burned from the approaching dawn. I bent to pick up his blade and it felt as if tiny sandbags were hooked to every pore, weighing me down. Morning was nearly upon me, but I still had time.
Nerian gazed up at me, a wide grin slashed across his broad face like an open wound. “You can kill me now, but you’ll never escape me,” he laughed. “I’m in your mind now. I’m in your blood. We’ll be together forever.”
Clenching my teeth, I plunged the blade into his abdomen and quickly pulled it across. As I jerked the blade free, his intestines spilled out onto the dirt. Nerian screamed, as he desperately attempted to gather up the wriggling purple and red sausages and press them back into his body. Blood poured from his body, staining the dirt and grass around him a bright red.
I dropped the blade and turned away from my tormentor. Dawn was nearly here. We were both out of time. I jogged as best I could, stumbling over chunks of rock and overturned dirt along the way as I headed for the entrance to the mountain hideaway. The area surrounding the mountains was a thick, lush rainforest. If I could make it to the trees, I could bury myself in the earth for the day, finding shelter against the deadly rays of the sun.
I tripped over rocks and ruts in the road, but kept my feet. My mind was only vaguely aware of the hundreds of bodies that littered the ground around me. All the nightwalkers still alive were already gone from the mountain, desperate to find their own shelter from the rising sun. I didn’t know where Jabari was and there was no time to seek him out. He was a powerful Ancient; he could take care of himself.
Among the dead, I glimpsed nightwalkers I had never seen before, naturi ripped to shreds by my own vicious kind, and so many humans. The Incans had built this place among the clouds to be closer to their sun god, but their retreat had become a place of death when they welcomed the naturi. Awed by their powers and beauty, the Incans believed the naturi to be children of their gods.
I didn’t blame them for not freeing me. They paid their own price. First in the dozens of humans that were sacrificed for the amusement of the naturi, and then more died as the naturi attempted to break me. But not all the Incans were dead. As I drew closer to the tree line, I could sense more humans not far off, huddled and terrified. One day, they might return to Machu Picchu to lay their dead to rest, but I doubted they would ever inhabit their beautiful city again.
Once within the cover of the trees, I fell to my knees. Digging as quickly as I could in the soft, damp earth, I created a hole just large enough to curl up in. My arms were trembling and I could feel the night giving its final gasps of life as I pulled the earth over my body. I whispered a small prayer to a god I hadn’t spoken to in more than century that it was enough to protect me from the sun’s rays. Then the dawn broke over the heavens, and I was no more.
In thanks for that love, I went digging through all the files I've kept for the Dark Days series, trying to find something I'd written that I might never have shown anyone before. There wasn't much to choose from, but I think I've got a little bit of something for my dear readers.
When I wrote the first draft of Dayhunter, there was a prologue. Yep, a prologue. But I don't think anyone has ever seen it besides my editor. The prologue was ultimately cut from the final draft, but I thought I'd show it to you now. Below is a flashback to something that happened before the start of the Dark Days series and gives some great background on why Mira hates the naturi. If you've never read the series, this snippet doesn't contain any spoilers so you're safe reading it.
Happy reading!
Prologue for Dayhunter
Pain slashed across my face.
Grass and dirt pressed against my skin. My thoughts were fragmented, slipping from my grasp before I could close my fingers around them. There was no floating on a gentle sea of oblivion, rocked by warm, comforting waves. There was only pain. White-hot pain biting at my muscles and gnawing on my bones.
With the pain came a growing consciousness and sharp clarity that I could do without. The sounds of fighting and the inevitable screams of dying drifted to my ears along with the scent of blood and smoke. Had I finally died and gone to Hell? The thought brought a faint smile to my lips, sending a fresh sliver of pain through my consciousness as I discovered my bottom lip was split and bleeding. No, Hell wouldn’t feel so … familiar.
A warm hand touched my left cheek, cradling my face with a surprising gentleness. For the first time, it occurred to me that someone was close. I could now feel the creature kneeling next to me, larger than life and more powerful than any I had ever known. Pushing against the last of the fog that crowded my thoughts, I forced my eyes open.
The face that looked down on me was filled with worry. His dark brown eyes were nearly black as shadows cast by the nearby flames danced across his broad features. His skin was almost as dark and rich as the night itself, while his perfectly white teeth were like catching a glimpse of the starlight on a cloudy night. He was Jabari, one of the oldest and strongest of the nightwalkers. An Elder – both a leader and protector.
“She’s awake?” inquired a sweet, feminine voice that I wished to never hear again. An older woman’s face appeared over Jabari’s right shoulder, staring down at me with concerned and calculating brown eyes.
I flinched at the sight of her. A low hiss slipped from the back of my throat. Over the crackle of the fire and the sounds of battle, I doubted either of them had heard the noise, but Jabari’s thumb slowly moved across my cheekbone and his left arm cradled my shoulders while his hand wrapped around my upper left arm. He didn’t pull me any closer, but I felt has as if he had gathered me into his arms, putting me out of reach of my maker.
“She is awake,” he replied. His deep voice rumbled around me, carrying with it a thick accent of a people long gone from this earth. “I will see to her needs.”
A frisson of power rippled through the air around us and again I flinched before I could stop myself. The power came from Sadira. There was no question of it. I knew the touch of her hand just as well I as knew the cold snap of the powers. I forced my gaze to her face, but she was staring down at the back of Jabari’s head. Her eyes glowed with an icy light and her features were pulled taunt as she pressed her lips into a hard, unyielding line.
“She is my daughter.” A faint tremble threaded its way through each syllable as she carefully enunciated each word so there would be no mistake.
“She was.” My eyes jerked back to Jabari to find the Ancient nightwalker smiling down at me, his thumb grazing my cheek in a feather-light caress. “See to our enemies or leave here.”
After several seconds, I finally tore my shocked gaze from Jabari’s face to find that Sadira was no longer standing behind him. She was gone. Gone from the battle. Gone from my life. A fine shaking started in my limbs and grew until my teeth chattered. I was free from Sadira, at last. I had been with my maker for more than century, endured her attempts to break me. I had suffered through countless nights of physical and mental torture until I was no longer sure who I was, until the sounds of begging and crying had become lullabies that rocked me to sleep each morning.
I drew an shuddering breath into my lungs, ignoring the fresh pain that knifed through broken ribs that were still trying to mend, and closed my eyes against the wave of tears that was threatening to break. She was gone. When I opened my eyes again, I saw Jabari. His smile had faded, but his intense gaze never wavered from my face.
Had my fate truly improved? I had moved from Sadira to another creature infinitely more powerful and potentially more sadistic. Jabari could crush me in an instant if he desired it or keep me alive for centuries in a torment I had yet to face. But for a brief spark of time, it didn’t matter. For the first time in more than one hundred years, I was free of Sadira.
“You must get up,” Jabari said, breaking the silence that had grown between us. The hand cupping my cheek slid down around my shoulder so that I was now encircled in his arms as he forced me to sit up. Pain exploded in my body and I cried out before I could stop it. The world rolled and bucked beneath me, trying to knock loose my hold on consciousness, but I held tight, rising above it all. I blinked several time, pushing back the blackness that had briefly crowded my vision. Jabari moved aside so that he was kneeling beside me, his left arm behind my back, keeping me upright.
“No!” The single word escaped my parted lips in a fractured whisper as I took in the scene spread before me. I was still at Machu Picchu. The Incan stronghold was littered with the broken bodies of the naturi, nightwalkers, and humans. How could I have forgotten? The wave of pain and the surprise of being held by Jabari had pushed from my brain the scene that was playing out before me. But the memories were pouring back through me like a clear, cold mountain stream.
Two weeks ago, I had been kidnapped from Sadira’s grasp by the naturi while we were returning to her castle in Spain. For two seemingly endless weeks, the guardians of the earth had tortured me. They wanted me to turn on my own kind. The naturi, with their melodious voices and beguiling eyes, tried to convince me to protect them from the nightwalkers. Because even before I became a nightwalker, I was the Fire Starter. Fire was the best defense against a vampire when the sun was down.
But I refused. I wouldn’t betray my own kind.
The naturi were relentless. When I would not be swayed by pain, they thought to break me through compassion. A parade of humans were brought before me – men in their prime, women bright in bloom, babies fresh from their mothers’ womb – all were killed before my eyes when I refused to bow to their wishes.
I thought I would die on that mountaintop beneath the cold gaze of the heavens. The naturi worked to free their banished queen, return her to this world so they could continue their campaign of slaughter and destruction of mankind. Nightwalkers were the one and only line of defense for humans. And the naturi were determined to make me their first line of defense against the nightwalkers.
And then, Jabari appeared. A terrible, glorious figure. An avenging angel in the night. I felt the horde of nightwalkers that followed on his heels, remembered the sound of the battle that flowed around me, and then there was only a blinding white light and soul-rending pain.
I shuddered and clenched my teeth against the memory that was fighting its way back to the surface. It was too raw, a wound that could never close, not with a thousand stitches.
Jabari’s arm tightened around my shoulders, pulling me back toward the present. “Let it go,” he whispered. Just as the words were brushing against the inside of my ear, I felt a cool breeze sweeping through my mind, pushing the memory away so that a shaky sense of peace could settle into its place.
“I want to leave,” I murmured, trying to ignore the fact that I sounded like a small, frightened child.
“Not yet. You must do something first.”
My eyes jumped to Jabari’s face, questioning for only a breath. I wanted nothing more than to be away from this nightmarish place; to never see or hear of the naturi again. Yet, Jabari had saved me. He saved me from the naturi and he saved me from my maker. For that reason, I would do whatever he wished.
“You must destroy him.”
My gaze followed where Jabari pointed until it settled on a figure sitting on the ground a few yards away, watching me with burning hatred. A dark smile grew on my face and all of my pains and fears were instantly forgotten at the sight of Nerian. Jabari had charged me with a duty, but more importantly, he had given me the sweetest gift of all – the chance to kill my tormentor.
I paused in the act of moving from the safety of Jabari’s arms and looked up at his large brown eyes. “Aurora?” Before I headed back into the place where I had been held captive, I needed to know the strength of my enemy. Was the Aurora, Queen of the naturi, running free?
“No, Aurora remains caged. The door was never opened.” Jabari once again swept his thumb across my cheekbone.
“The war?”
“Delayed. Now, hurry! Time is against you.”
“As you wish,” I whispered, my gaze returning to Nerian.
My nails dug long furrows in the ground as I pulled myself back to my feet, only slightly aware of Jabari’s arm falling away from my shoulders. The earth swayed and rocked under my feet when I stood, but I held my balance. Above me, the sky was growing lighter. Dark midnight blues bled into dusty charcoal grays then into hues of faint pastels of purple and pink. The night was nearly gone and dawn was threatening to stretch her arms. I was running out of time.
Pushing aside thoughts of the waning night, I walked over to where Nerian was struggling to pull himself to his feet using the low wall behind him. The perfectly fitted white-gray stones were smeared with his blood and the blood of other creatures he had attacked before facing me. He was favoring his right leg. It was broken, but it wouldn’t stay that way for long. The naturi were fast healers, at least as fast as nightwalkers if not faster.
I paused for only a breath, staring at him. For two weeks, he had been my constant companion during my waking hours. He whispered dark promises and lurid nightmares in my ear while carving my body up with an assortment of blades. Each night they drained me of blood so that I could barely think beyond the haze of hunger and fed me only enough to keep me alive for another night. For the first week, a member of the naturi light clan stayed close, ensuring that I couldn’t use fire against another naturi member. By the second week, I was too weak to light a candle, let alone set my tormentor on fire.
But even now, without a light clan guardian, I couldn’t conjure a flame. I tried to end it quickly by setting Nerian on fire, but the earth wobbled under my feet and I nearly lost consciousness. I was too weak, my body too drained. So be it. I’d destroy the naturi the old-fashioned way.
I lunged at Nerian, my hands open with my nails trained like daggers on his throat. The naturi pulled out a short blade from a sheath on his waist and swung it at me. I jerked back before actually reaching skin. A snarl escaped me as I dodged the swinging blade. It sang as sliced through the air near my own neck. Muscles burned and protested each movement, but I pushed the pain aside and concentrated on the one thing I had dreamed of for two weeks – killing Nerian.
Spinning, I landed a kick to his abdomen. A second hit knocked the wind out of him before the blade could make another swipe at me. The blade grazed my arm as my heel slammed into his left knee, hammering it into the wall behind him. Even beneath the hard leather soles, I could still feel the crunch of bone. The sound of the shattering bone matched his wailing in a sweet song.
The naturi crumpled to the ground, dropping his blade; his right leg broken and his left knee shattered. The slash sent a stinging sensation along my arm as the poison from the blade seeped into my body. Blood ran down my arm and dripped from my trembling fingertips as the wound struggled to close.
My eyes burned from the approaching dawn. I bent to pick up his blade and it felt as if tiny sandbags were hooked to every pore, weighing me down. Morning was nearly upon me, but I still had time.
Nerian gazed up at me, a wide grin slashed across his broad face like an open wound. “You can kill me now, but you’ll never escape me,” he laughed. “I’m in your mind now. I’m in your blood. We’ll be together forever.”
Clenching my teeth, I plunged the blade into his abdomen and quickly pulled it across. As I jerked the blade free, his intestines spilled out onto the dirt. Nerian screamed, as he desperately attempted to gather up the wriggling purple and red sausages and press them back into his body. Blood poured from his body, staining the dirt and grass around him a bright red.
I dropped the blade and turned away from my tormentor. Dawn was nearly here. We were both out of time. I jogged as best I could, stumbling over chunks of rock and overturned dirt along the way as I headed for the entrance to the mountain hideaway. The area surrounding the mountains was a thick, lush rainforest. If I could make it to the trees, I could bury myself in the earth for the day, finding shelter against the deadly rays of the sun.
I tripped over rocks and ruts in the road, but kept my feet. My mind was only vaguely aware of the hundreds of bodies that littered the ground around me. All the nightwalkers still alive were already gone from the mountain, desperate to find their own shelter from the rising sun. I didn’t know where Jabari was and there was no time to seek him out. He was a powerful Ancient; he could take care of himself.
Among the dead, I glimpsed nightwalkers I had never seen before, naturi ripped to shreds by my own vicious kind, and so many humans. The Incans had built this place among the clouds to be closer to their sun god, but their retreat had become a place of death when they welcomed the naturi. Awed by their powers and beauty, the Incans believed the naturi to be children of their gods.
I didn’t blame them for not freeing me. They paid their own price. First in the dozens of humans that were sacrificed for the amusement of the naturi, and then more died as the naturi attempted to break me. But not all the Incans were dead. As I drew closer to the tree line, I could sense more humans not far off, huddled and terrified. One day, they might return to Machu Picchu to lay their dead to rest, but I doubted they would ever inhabit their beautiful city again.
Once within the cover of the trees, I fell to my knees. Digging as quickly as I could in the soft, damp earth, I created a hole just large enough to curl up in. My arms were trembling and I could feel the night giving its final gasps of life as I pulled the earth over my body. I whispered a small prayer to a god I hadn’t spoken to in more than century that it was enough to protect me from the sun’s rays. Then the dawn broke over the heavens, and I was no more.
August 23, 2014
Chess: A Writer's Strategy for Great Storytelling
My husband is teaching me chess ... and it's proving to be a slow process. Oh, I've got all the piece moves down. That wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. I get that the bishop moves diagonally and the castle goes in a straight line. The knight goes two spaces and then one. And then queen goes wherever the hell she wants to go (which is pretty freaking awesome).
But it's the long-term planning and strategy that get me. Panic consumes me as I make those first few moves, knowing that in my attempts to attack him, I'm creating vulnerabilities for myself. It's knowing that his experience had taught him to see things that I haven't learned to see yet. It's about learning to see more than one step ahead to ten steps ahead ... guessing at the ultimate endgame, the final attack as well as the small attacks that will come along the way.
That and I just hate to lose. I'm not an overly competitive person, except when it come to certain activities. Trivia? Yes. Baseball? No. Crossword? Yes. Volleyball? No. Scrabble? Yes. Picking up a trend here? I'm about as coordinated as a newborn fawn. Oh... but games that strain the brain, those are my special love and I hate to lose.
I'm wondering if learning chess will help my writing. Will it help my long-term plotting? Will it help me develop more twisted strategies that will shock and astound my readers? And will it help me get into the head of other characters, the villains who are trying to destroy my hero and my hero's friends who have their own agendas?
I think sometimes one of the hardest parts of developing a strategy for writing a great story is climbing into so many different minds. Most of the stories I've written over the years have been told from a first person point of view. In those instances, my main focus is to climb into the head of my main character, but that should stop me from wandering around the heads of many of the other characters -- particularly the main guy/girl.
But I don't think my problem is necessarily getting into the head of the main character or even the villain. No, the hard part is getting in the mind of all the other important characters running around in a story. What about the other characters that your main character counts on, trusts, doesn't trust but needs? Don't they have needs, desires, plans, and hidden agendas? Add depth to your stories by letting them have their way every now and again ... even if it messes with your carefully laid plans.
But it's the long-term planning and strategy that get me. Panic consumes me as I make those first few moves, knowing that in my attempts to attack him, I'm creating vulnerabilities for myself. It's knowing that his experience had taught him to see things that I haven't learned to see yet. It's about learning to see more than one step ahead to ten steps ahead ... guessing at the ultimate endgame, the final attack as well as the small attacks that will come along the way.
That and I just hate to lose. I'm not an overly competitive person, except when it come to certain activities. Trivia? Yes. Baseball? No. Crossword? Yes. Volleyball? No. Scrabble? Yes. Picking up a trend here? I'm about as coordinated as a newborn fawn. Oh... but games that strain the brain, those are my special love and I hate to lose.
I'm wondering if learning chess will help my writing. Will it help my long-term plotting? Will it help me develop more twisted strategies that will shock and astound my readers? And will it help me get into the head of other characters, the villains who are trying to destroy my hero and my hero's friends who have their own agendas?
I think sometimes one of the hardest parts of developing a strategy for writing a great story is climbing into so many different minds. Most of the stories I've written over the years have been told from a first person point of view. In those instances, my main focus is to climb into the head of my main character, but that should stop me from wandering around the heads of many of the other characters -- particularly the main guy/girl.
But I don't think my problem is necessarily getting into the head of the main character or even the villain. No, the hard part is getting in the mind of all the other important characters running around in a story. What about the other characters that your main character counts on, trusts, doesn't trust but needs? Don't they have needs, desires, plans, and hidden agendas? Add depth to your stories by letting them have their way every now and again ... even if it messes with your carefully laid plans.
July 27, 2014
Vampires and Monsters: Quieting the Voices in My Head
Let's just get this out of the way. I hear voices... in my head. For some people who know me, this isn't a massive shock. For those who are afraid, stick with me a moment. When I'm writing a book, and by that I mean that I'm working on the first draft, I hear (usually) one voice in my head. That's the voice of the main storyteller. If I happen to be writing from third person or a dual first person, there might be a second voice, but typically there's only one voice.
Pray for Dawn, Jocelynn Drake, urban fantasy, Dark DaysAnd it's nice. By the time I'm deep in a book, this voice is familiar. I know the cadence. I know the personality, the sense of humor, their favorite ice cream, and more. It's like always having a friend close at hand. For the Dark Days series, I usually had Mira whispering sarcastic comments about this or that. Occasionally Danaus would chime in when he was feeling talkative, which wasn't often. While I was working on the Asylum Tales, Gage was always there with a quip or a bit of wisdom. For some reason, there were never any other voices talking to me for that series while I was writing the first drafts.
But there's another one voice waiting in the wings. Typically, she's content to sit back, surf the web, watch a movie, play a video game, and take a bubble bath until I'm ready for her. Unless I make one big mistake. I call her in while I'm drafting.
Voices: The Creator and the Editor
Dead Man's Deal, Asylum TalesYou see, despite the varieties in personality, there are only two voices. The Creator and the Editor. Mira, Danaus, and Gage are all variations of the Creator. And then there's the Editor. She is the highly critical, logical, analytic half of my brain. The Editor is the voice that tells -- not whispers -- how to change, tweak, and generally improve a story. She's my reality check. She analyzes when I've repeated a word too many times, tells me whether a character's motivations are off or if their emotional reactions are incorrect.
I value both sides and desperately need both sides, but there is one problem. The two don't always get along very well. In fact, the Editor tends to stifle the Creator and it pisses off the Creator. So much so that the Creator will refuse to work on a project that the Editor get involved with it too soon. And I don't blame her. It's not easy to work creative magic when you've got someone watching over your shoulder with a red pen in hand.
So, I have this rule. The Editor is not allowed to get involved in the first draft. And she's fine with that rule. To maintain the distance, I'm not allowed to reread anything I'm writing as I'm working on it. When I start writing each day, I'm allowed to read up to one page of text that I wrote the previous day to get my mind back into the scene, emotional tension, and flow of the story, but that's it. If I read more, the Editor naturally flows forth and starts tweaking scenes. And that just pisses off the Creator.
Unfortunately, that's exactly what I've done with Stefan's story. I'm working on this spin-off story from the Dark Days series, focusing on what happened to nightwalker Stefan years after Burn the Night. But I got stuck on the final fight scene/climax. I know the "who" behind it all, but I haven't worked out who does what in the final fight. In my brainstorming process, I decided to go back and read to see if it would start sparking ideas.
And now all I can think about are the edits. Ugh!
How do I quiet the voices arguing in my head so I can get back to writing? It's not an easy process. If I'm not on a deadline, I will frequently go work on something else for a little while, allowing me to step away from the stress and frustration related to the first story. If I'm on a deadline, I'll do a timed writing session, which forces me to just write something, anything. It gets me to accept a bunch of crap words so that I can finally get to the good words.
Now this doesn't happen to everyone. I know of authors who will edit the chapter that was written the day before prior to writing new text. Some people are more skilled at separating the two voices in their brain. For me, my rule just makes the writing process faster and allows my creative side free rein.
And if you're wondering, I've got about 10,000 to 15,000 words left of the Stefan story. I don't know quite what I'm going to do with it, but it is nearly done. The voices aren't arguing as much anymore and I'm hoping to finish the first draft soon.
Pray for Dawn, Jocelynn Drake, urban fantasy, Dark DaysAnd it's nice. By the time I'm deep in a book, this voice is familiar. I know the cadence. I know the personality, the sense of humor, their favorite ice cream, and more. It's like always having a friend close at hand. For the Dark Days series, I usually had Mira whispering sarcastic comments about this or that. Occasionally Danaus would chime in when he was feeling talkative, which wasn't often. While I was working on the Asylum Tales, Gage was always there with a quip or a bit of wisdom. For some reason, there were never any other voices talking to me for that series while I was writing the first drafts.
But there's another one voice waiting in the wings. Typically, she's content to sit back, surf the web, watch a movie, play a video game, and take a bubble bath until I'm ready for her. Unless I make one big mistake. I call her in while I'm drafting.
Voices: The Creator and the Editor
Dead Man's Deal, Asylum TalesYou see, despite the varieties in personality, there are only two voices. The Creator and the Editor. Mira, Danaus, and Gage are all variations of the Creator. And then there's the Editor. She is the highly critical, logical, analytic half of my brain. The Editor is the voice that tells -- not whispers -- how to change, tweak, and generally improve a story. She's my reality check. She analyzes when I've repeated a word too many times, tells me whether a character's motivations are off or if their emotional reactions are incorrect.
I value both sides and desperately need both sides, but there is one problem. The two don't always get along very well. In fact, the Editor tends to stifle the Creator and it pisses off the Creator. So much so that the Creator will refuse to work on a project that the Editor get involved with it too soon. And I don't blame her. It's not easy to work creative magic when you've got someone watching over your shoulder with a red pen in hand.
So, I have this rule. The Editor is not allowed to get involved in the first draft. And she's fine with that rule. To maintain the distance, I'm not allowed to reread anything I'm writing as I'm working on it. When I start writing each day, I'm allowed to read up to one page of text that I wrote the previous day to get my mind back into the scene, emotional tension, and flow of the story, but that's it. If I read more, the Editor naturally flows forth and starts tweaking scenes. And that just pisses off the Creator.
Unfortunately, that's exactly what I've done with Stefan's story. I'm working on this spin-off story from the Dark Days series, focusing on what happened to nightwalker Stefan years after Burn the Night. But I got stuck on the final fight scene/climax. I know the "who" behind it all, but I haven't worked out who does what in the final fight. In my brainstorming process, I decided to go back and read to see if it would start sparking ideas.
And now all I can think about are the edits. Ugh!
How do I quiet the voices arguing in my head so I can get back to writing? It's not an easy process. If I'm not on a deadline, I will frequently go work on something else for a little while, allowing me to step away from the stress and frustration related to the first story. If I'm on a deadline, I'll do a timed writing session, which forces me to just write something, anything. It gets me to accept a bunch of crap words so that I can finally get to the good words.
Now this doesn't happen to everyone. I know of authors who will edit the chapter that was written the day before prior to writing new text. Some people are more skilled at separating the two voices in their brain. For me, my rule just makes the writing process faster and allows my creative side free rein.
And if you're wondering, I've got about 10,000 to 15,000 words left of the Stefan story. I don't know quite what I'm going to do with it, but it is nearly done. The voices aren't arguing as much anymore and I'm hoping to finish the first draft soon.
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