MeiLin Miranda's Blog, page 21
January 4, 2013
Chapter 12 Part 2 | Son in Sorrow | IHGK Book 2
He scratched at the scabbed-over stitches at his temple and then at his nape under the long, nagging queue he'd grown at the Temple. He'd had time to think and still hadn't figured the Alvo dilemma out. The last time they'd been together for any real length of time was almost two years ago, when he'd gotten roaring drunk and pawed Mattie in the hedge. Nausea and guilt shuddered through him, worry chasing close behind. He wished he knew where she was now so he might set things right.
December 31, 2012
Happy 2013! Have some cover art!
Here, by artist Elsa Kroese, is the concept art for the cover of The Machine God:
The typography is placeholder. Kickstarter up soon!
Chapter 12 Part 1 | Son in Sorrow | IHGK Book 2
Whithorse Estate, Whithorse
The final week of Winter's Beginning, 992 KY
With the family in mourning all royal celebrations and parties were canceled for the next year, and the City's leading lights of course followed suit; the social season thus ended two spokes early, to the despair of more than a few mothers looking to marry off daughters who were aging by the minute. Ellika, who would normally never hide herself at the Estate at this time of year, didn't care a bit. She spent her time in the Great House's cozy nursery fussing over Anneya with Lady Donnis.
The wet nurse brought from Tremont City lost her milk, to general alarm. "How does one find a wet nurse, Cousin Donnie?" fretted Ellika.
December 28, 2012
Chapter 11 Part 8 | Son in Sorrow | IHGK Book 2
Ellika rarely let the baby go, relinquishing her little sister long enough for the hastily-called wet nurse to feed her before snatching her away again. She declared to the family that Anneya was her responsibility: "No one else seems to care, so I'm taking her back to Whithorse with Temmin. Nurse and I will see to her." She even learned to change the tiny girl's diaper, refusing assistance with a savagery once reserved for incompetent milliners and dancing partners who trod one too many times on her toes.
December 24, 2012
Merry Everything, my dears!
I'm sitting here befor the fire in my bathrobe eating the hubby's best ham and potato hash ever and thinking about how lucky I've been this year. I hope your 2012 was wonderful and that your 2013 will be twice as good!
My plans for next year include book three of the History (which may actually be books three and four since I'm having trouble wedging both Sedra's and Temmin's storylines into one book--we'll see) and the Drifting Isle Chronicles: The Machine God, which is already written. Just got the cover concept last Saturday, and I'll be doing the Kickstarter for it probably starting next week.
I'm working on the "Whithorse" prequel short story collection from the last Kickstarter as well; the trueing up has turned into a total rewrite, to the point it may turn into a novella. In either case, I'll be packaging it with "Accounts" into an omnibus ebook and paperback, in addition to releasing it as an ebook standalone.
I also will be writing straight-up (though not necessarily straight) erotica under the Aria Afton pen name and another erotic romance under this name in the Aria Afton Presents line. Then it, The Mage's Toy and The Amber Cross will be omnibus ebook and paperback. Until the History finds it larger audience, I need to make some money.
FINALLY! I hope to bring back Scryer's Gulch. Needless to say, I'm working on increasing my output next year. I did this year, and I'm gonna go for more next year.
With all that, my heart remains with the History, and I'll be prioritizing it. I know that's mainly why you're here.
I love you all madly!
Chapter 11 Part 7 | Son in Sorrow | IHGK Book 2
A week after the Queen's funeral, Allis handed cups of tea to the Most High Beloved and Most High Lover. The two high priests and the two Embodiments sat together in a room warmer than most Tremontine rooms, but the two old ones held the handleless winter ceramic cups close to their bodies, letting the heat sink in. Allis wondered if she would be cold all the time when she grew old. She dropped a sugar in one cup for Issak and passed it to him. "What are we going to do about Temmin?" she said.
December 21, 2012
Chapter 11 Part 6 | Son in Sorrow | IHGK Book 2
Jenks sat down in the rarely used wingback chair before the fire. "I confess I would not say no to a glass of wuisc, sir."
Temmin poured them each a glass from the decanter on his sideboard, handed one to Jenks, and tossed himself on the moss green sofa. "What's this colonel nonsense? Has Father given you an honorary commission?"
"No, no. It's not honorary." Jenks took a deep breath. "It's time you were told, especially now that…" He cleared his throat and began again. "I wasn't a corporal in the cavalry, sir, and I was never your uncle's batman. I was his aide-de-camp--a colonel. I still hold that rank. I'm chief of your security detail and your personal bodyguard, which has made this time apart very worrying indeed after all these years."
December 17, 2012
Chapter 11 Part 5 | Son in Sorrow | IHGK Book 2
Harsin folded Ansella's arms over her chest. The Friends brought the shroud around her body; Harsin and the children took turns sewing it closed. Emsa gave Ansella's velvet-wrapped hair to Sedra, who accepted it with shaking hands. The Friends took up the body in its coffin again and returned to the main hall for the walk to the royal section of the catacombs.
A ramrod-straight, barrel-chested man in the dark Tremontine red uniform of a colonel of the Royal Cavalry waited in the hall; the uniform's markings were of the First Cavalry Battalion of the Whithorse Guard, and medals covered its front. Tradition banned weapons from the Hill, and his sword sheath hung empty at his side. The man held his black fur winter uniform hat under his arm. Gray threaded the black hair fringed round his head as well as his neatly trimmed beard, and his weather-lined face flashed a heavy grief before he snapped to attention.
December 14, 2012
Chapter 11 Part 4 | Son in Sorrow | IHGK Book 2
Emsa approached Harsin. In her hand was a knife, exquisitely sharp, knapped from slick black obsidian. Harsin took it from her and began cutting away the simple white dress on Ansella's body. "All this is fleeting, all this is lost, all this is unnecessary," said the King.
"All this is ending, all this is beginning, all this is needed," answered the rest, Friends and family in gentle chorus. Temmin did his best to follow along. He knew the words but they kept sticking in his throat.
"Life is fleeting, life is lost, life continues," said his father.
"Her life has ended, her life is beginning, all this is needed," came the response.
December 10, 2012
Chapter 11 Part 3 | Son in Sorrow | IHGK Book 2
Tremontine flags trimmed in black flew at half mast throughout the City, the dark red field and its three golden mountains limp on this cold, still day. Every bell, from the great War Bell in the Keep to the time-keeping carillons at the University tolled, echoing desolate against the City walls as the funeral procession passed through the streets. Harsin walked before it, dressed in severest black but for the Tremontine red sash beneath his coat; his head wore neither hat nor crown. Emsa, the high priestess of the Friends of Harla, and Harla's Embodiment Trudannis walked beside him, their black hoods lowered to show their stubbled heads.
