Jamie DeBree's Blog, page 57
July 18, 2011
Weekly News & Goals 7/18/11
Most of you probably have seen/read
elsewhere that my day job has been incredibly demanding lately (if
not, now you know). When I get home at night, I have limited brain
power left to do much of anything...blogging/writing included, and I haven't been feeling all that social (so twitter/FB/G+ are pretty low on my priority list at the moment). I'm
not currently behind, but it's the start of the week, and I have no
idea how stressful things are going to be just yet. So if I miss a
post or two here and there for the next couple of weeks, just know
that it's probably because something had to give, and writing comes
before blog posts. As far as serial fiction goes – that's number
one on my lists, so those will continue as normal. I have no
intention of letting the stories get behind if I can at all avoid it
(not just for your sakes, dear readers, but for my own sanity as
well).
Luckily, I have an interview for you
this week from Denise Grover Swank, and an excerpt of her new book to
post on Saturday. So there's two posts I guarantee you won't want
to miss. 
This Week on The
Variety Pages
Tuesday: Interview with Denise
Grover Swank
Wednesday: Writing Notes –
Plausibility
Thursday: Code Name: Succulent –
Priorities & "Fun"
Friday: Chapter 10 of Falling
in Public
Saturday: Excerpt from
Twenty-Eight and a Half Wishes by Denise Grover Swank
Elsewhere
Tuesday:
Chapter 10 of The Minister's Maid at Fantasy
Ranch Novels
Tuesday:
New design at NailArt
Tuesday
Thursday:
Sales Report for June at Beyond
the Words
Saturday:
Tea review at Tea onTap
Sunday:
Progress Report at Body
in Motion
Goal Reports
I'm just going to ignore the fact
that I had goals last week – honestly, there's no point in
rehashing, since the day job thing pretty much obliterated my chances
of reaching them. New week, fresh new goal list. Sometimes
all you can do is move forward.
Goals for the Week
Writing
Five serial chapters
Edits to latest erotica short
Finish two beta reads, start the
third
Business
Mail out ARC's (today!)
Finish formatting TBW & upload
Update web sites
Catch up bookkeeping for June
Personal
Workout 4 nights
Make time to read
Decompress when needed
That's my list for the week – how's
your week shaping up? Anything fun in the works?
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July 17, 2011
Weekly Archive 7/10 - 7/16/11
anything:
Fiction
Romantic Suspense
Chapter 9 of The Minister's Maid (FantasyRanchNovels.com)
Chapter 9 of Falling in Public (The Variety Pages)
Erotica
None (Break, new story starts this week)
Thriller/Suspense
Chapter 50 of Angel Eyes (AlexWesthaven.com)
Writing/Reading/Publishing
Writing Notes: Separation of Author and Character (The Variety Pages)
Hobbies/Other
Nail Art
Pink Screening (Nail Art Tuesday)
Tea
None
Health & Personal Wellness
(The Variety Pages)
Progress Report (Body in Motion)
To see posts by others that I found interesting over the past week (or anytime), visit my Tumblr blog. I use that mainly as a sort of scrapbook for sharing posts and links I enjoyed and wanted to share.
Thanks for reading...see you next week!
July 16, 2011
Serial Novel: Falling in Public, Ch. 9
Ch.1|Ch. 2|Ch. 3|Ch. 4|Ch. 5|Ch. 6|Ch. 7|Ch. 8
Falling in Public
Chapter 9
Eddie checked the clock on the nightstand. It was going to be close, but if Holly would just move faster, she might be able to make it out before Vincent got here. The whole situation was bad enough, but if no one else saw her here, they could just say the picture was photoshopped and be done with it.
"You have to move faster," he said, watching her pull her shirt over her head. "As long as no one else sees you here..."
She pushed off the bed, shaking her head as she reached for her jeans. "What the hell is going on, Eddie? I tried to tell you who I was last night, but I'm not sure why that matters. And what does your agent have to do with anything?"
He handed her boots to her, and checked the clock again. "Someone snapped our picture last night, and it's all over the papers this morning--"
She gave a feeble laugh as she stood up again. "Shouldn't you be used to that by now? I mean, there were tons of papparizzi at the bar last night--"
"The picture was taken early this morning. Through a window." He grabbed her hand and pulled her out into the hall, jogging down the long corridor and down the back steps. "According to Vincent, the headline says something about a romance author doing hands-on research for her next book. Is that all I was for you, Holly? Research?" He stopped at the back door, relieved at the beige sedan with tinted windows waiting outside. Leave it to Mark to keep a cool head and call a driver. This wasn't the first time they'd had to do damage control.
Holly pulled her hand from his grasp, and he turned to her, surprised by her calm expression. Still, there was a distinctively cold vibe coming off her as she moved to the door, careful not to touch him. "I was doing research last night," she said, her tone quiet and even. "And no, you weren't part of that, not that anyone will believe me now. I don't know what the big deal is..."
"You might be a little more upset when you see the picture, from what I hear." A deep voice called Eddie's name from the other end of the house, and he cringed. "That's Vincent. You have to go. That driver will take you back to your hotel. I'll call you later."
She shook her head and pulled the door open. "Don't bother," she said, not looking back as she ran down the stairs to the waiting car.
Eddie closed the door and leaned against it for a moment. Vincent called his name again, closer this time, and with a resigned sigh Eddie went to meet him.
"Good morning, Vincent," he said as he entered the kitchen, gratefully accepting the cup of coffee the housekeeper offered. "I got your message--"
"Damn it, Eddie. What the hell were you thinking, sleeping with that author? She's got an interview this afternoon on The Sherry Ormond Show, and another one tomorrow on one of those early shows - hell, did you even think to have her sign a confidentiality agreement? What kind of things is she going to say about you - about the band?"
Eddie shrugged. "Not much, I'd imagine. It's not like we did much talking..." he grinned as Vincent threw up his hands and turned away. "Come on, Vincent - this isn't anything. People will talk for a few days, something else will happen, and it won't even be news anymore. We can just tell them it was a photoshopped photo and be done with it. More publicity for both of us all around - how can that be bad?"
"The studio is threatening to cancel your contract for this," Vincent said, rubbing one hand down his face. "It falls under the 'dubious moral character' clause. No nude photos, no porn, remember?"
Eddie frowned. "You said it was a picture of me kissing her in the bedroom..."
Vincent reached across the counter to the paper lying open on the other side. He closed it and slapped the front page down in front of Eddie. "It is. But the version on the internet doesn't have those nice fuzzy bars over the fun parts."
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July 15, 2011
Code Name: Succulent – No Obligations
Author's Note: No, you're
not crazy. This is supposed to be the next chapter of Falling in
Public, and I apologize that it's not. Day job stress has me out of
whack with the fiction writing, so FIP will be posted on Saturday this week
instead. Thanks for waiting...
This is a Rhipsalis cactus – commonly
called a Mistletoe cactus (which I didn't know until I looked up
rhipsalis...which is how much of a plant geek I am, I guess LOL).
These guys fascinate me, the way they branch out every which way and
look all scraggly, but in a symmetrical way.
That's kind of how I feel about this
whole "branching out" experiment. Things kinda look scraggly for
now (more so this week, which has been unbelievably demanding), but
they're falling into a more symmetrical pattern and I don't feel
quite so scattered now.
Some things require more conscious
thought than others – like my tea blog, and crocheting. I've been
struggling with those, but I get such a sense of...accomplishment?
Rounded-ness? I'm not sure what the word I'm looking for is (it's
late, and I'm tired), but I always feel good having made the time
for them.
I've allowed myself FB games again,
and while I'm sure I spend more time than I should playing (again),
it really does allow my mind to relax in the evenings. I am more
behind, but I feel better about it, if that makes any sense.
The title of this post comes from
something I struggle with all the time in pursuit of hobbies. I tend
to feel obligated after a very short time to make my hobby into
something "more". Last time I crocheted, I wasn't content to
"just crochet", I had to make gifts, and things for possible
sale. That applied pressure automatically. With the tea blog I tend
to think I need to post more often. Or in a specific format for
reviews, etc. It's very easy to slip into the "make it more"
mentality, and I think a lot of us have a hard time just pursuing
something for no obvious reason other than we enjoy it. No plans to
grow it bigger or make it better.
So I'm really trying not to feel
obligated with these "extras". I don't need to play a bunch of
games, just a few (and I don't have to worry about climbing ranks
or anything – I can move slowly, and really, it just doesn't
matter). I don't need to put a deadline on a crochet project, and
it's okay if I buy gifts even though I'm crafty. I don't need
to post more than weekly on the tea blog – and I don't have to
stick to just reviews. I can be flexible, and just enjoy these things
for what they are, rather than for what they could be (which is how I
view my books after the draft is done).
This is harder than it sounds for me,
because I'm built to take an idea and run it out as far as I can
get it to go. Good for writing – excellent, in fact. Bad for
hobbies. They don't need to be anything more than a hobby. Ever.
They're fine just for something fun to do.
Do you feel obligated by your hobbies?
Have you ever quit a hobby because the pressure you put on it was too
much?
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July 13, 2011
Writing Notes: Separation of Author & Character
It doesn't work, by the way. Yelling at my characters, I mean. Some authors appear to have "fourth wall" privileges wherein they can converse with their characters – I don't. The minute I start trying to do that, having to listen to them (ie, write them) in the first person, I cease hearing *their* personality, and my own starts to creep in. I need distance in order to keep myself separate from them, to keep my head out of theirs.
Davin suggested I expand on this a bit...so thanks for this week's topic, Davin.
Most people know I prefer not to read first person (though when done well, I can tolerate it, or even enjoy it, depending). But all over the 'net I see authors doing interviews with their characters, guest posting as characters...and I have to be honest – I can't do that. I can't write my characters in first person, and still maintain the separation I need in order to write their personality completely separate from my own. My brain just doesn't work that way.
I'm slowly figuring this out, but I have a theory that when I'm writing, and when I talk about "getting into my character's head", it's more from the point of view of a psychologist or sociologist (neither of which I actually am). I study them, their mannerisms, how they react to different situations, their speech patterns, their expressions, how they dress, everything. I learn who they are as a person through all of this, and often find myself feeling what they feel as I watch them move through scenes.
There are two things I simply cannot do though. I can't put words in their mouths – I have to let them speak naturally and automatically. And I can't actually "become" them – I can't let go of my own sense of "self" enough to actually pretend to be in their heads, thinking their thoughts, and speaking for them (see last sentence).
I am very self-aware, as most people with my personality type (INTJ) are. My characters tend to be very different from me, embracing ideas and philosophies I don't necessarily embrace personally, using language and speech patterns I'd never use, and making decisions I'd never make. I am not them, and therefore cannot "pretend" to be them with any degree of accuracy.
Now you're scratching your head, thinking, "But you actually are your characters – they're coming out of your mind!" (or "you're going out of your mind..." which may well be true). And you're right, of course, but when I create a character, I create a blank and then sit back and let my subconscious drive. That's where all the important stuff comes from, and it plays automatically like a movie in my head. Once the characters start "acting", I have no real control over them, as strange as that sounds. My subconscious does all the work, and if I try to interfere, it just shuts down, simple as that.
That's what being "blocked" means for me - normally, it's because I'm not comfortable with where the characters are headed for whatever reason, and I'm fighting it, wanting them to do something else. It's very, very rare that I win that battle, though we sometimes can strike a compromise. I've set stories aside that pushed my boundaries too much, because I wasn't willing to follow the character where they needed to go. More often than not, I have to resolve myself to the fact that my subconscious is a much better writer than my conscious mind, and just let it do what it wants.
Do I sound fragmented? I am, I guess...but in a very conscious manner, if that makes any sense. I often wonder though, how other writers can write in first person. How they can let go of "self" long enough to become someone completely different...or if that's even possible, in the long term. Personally, I can't remove my own filters long enough to keep a first person account true to the nature of that particular character - I have to stand back, and observe/record as an outsider in order to capture a more objective picture of my characters.
I realize we can't ever be completely objective...and my characters do end up with some of my filters, even from a distance. But it would be far, far worse if I were actually in the driver's seat - been there, tried that.
So tell me, those of you who write in first person - how do you do it? How do you stifle your sense of "self" long enough to actually "become" your character?
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July 11, 2011
Weekly News & Goals 7/11/11
Felt like I should get a Slurpee when I
typed out today's date...mmm...slurpees...
If you missed it, I have ARC's of The
Biker's Wench, and will be sending those out this week. The
Goodreads giveaway to win one of five goes until Wednesday, so plenty
of time to sign up if you'd like! I'm going to go through it this
week and make sure I didn't make any super-huge mistakes, but a
quick flip-through confirmed that unlike previous books, there are no
transposed or repeat chapters, which is a relief. All I'm doing now
is checking for missed typos and such (caught a few more while
formatting).
The pre-order links for signed copies
will be in the Brazen Snake Books shop by Tuesday, and when you
pre-order the paperback, you'll get the ebook free (and immediately
via download link). I have approved the paperback for sale on
Amazon/Barnes & Noble, but please note that if you buy a copy
from one of those sites this week, it will be the ARC copy, and may
change between now and the official July 29th release
date. I just did it that way so I could order more ARC's to send
out. The ebook will be available Tuesday in the BSB store, and I'll
start uploading it to other venues around the 20th. Yes, I
know I'm early, but there's really no reason to wait, and I have
another book to put out this month for the erotica pen name, so may as
well get this one finished up and out to readers, right?
Prices are $9.99 (plus shipping) for
trade paperback (B&N has it listed for $8.99), and $.99
introductory price for the ebook (limited time offer!). Prices for
paperbacks bought directly from me through the BSB shop will be $7.99
(plus shipping), and always include a free digital copy.
I'll have some release day goodies to
give away on the FantasyRanchNovels.com site on July 29th
– should be fun!
This Week on The Variety Pages
Wednesday:
Writing Notes – Separation of Author & Character
Thursday: Code
Name: Succulent – No Obligations
Friday:
Chapter 9 of Falling in Public
Sunday:
Weekly Archive
Elsewhere
Tuesday:
Chapter 9 of The Minister's Maid at Fantasy
Ranch Novels
Tuesday:
New design at NailArt
Tuesday
Thursday:
Sales Report for June at Beyond
the Words (yes, really...promise!)
Saturday:
Tea review at Tea onTap
Sunday:
Progress Report at Body
in Motion
Goal Reports
The goals last week were hit and miss –
as the day job goes, so does my mental capacity, and it was difficult
to keep up with my serial chapters toward the end of the week. But I
managed to finish the erotic short that's been dragging on, so that
was good. I also got a good start on the ms I'm beta-ing at the
moment, so that's good too. Aside from getting TBW formatted for
print and the ARC's in, the business stuff pretty well got pushed
aside in favor of more mind-numbing but ultimately relaxing things
(like FB games and hobby stuff). And that's what I needed after the
work day, so I can't really regret the time.
I got three out of my five workouts in,
and started a new crochet project, which was fun. Nice to know I
remember, even though it's been awhile.
Regardless of how this week goes, I
really need to attend to some business stuff. Like an ebook
for TBW, and sales links for the same. Lots of beta reading this week
too.
Goals for the Week
Writing
Write three serial chapters
Start a new erotica serial
Finish 2 beta reads, start a third
Business
Ebook formatting for TBW
Sale links for TBW on the BSB site
Bookkeeping
Send review requests and review
copies out
Finish submissions page for BSB
Personal
Finish moving all contact info
from PDA to tablet.
Sleep more than 4 hours a night
Keep tracking workouts/food in
Noom app (handy little thing, seriously)
Catch up on GR reviews
That's it for me this week. What's
on your plate? Anything succulent? 
Tempest | Desert Heat
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July 10, 2011
Weekly Archive 7/3 - 7/9
anything:
Fiction
Romantic Suspense
Chapter 8 of The Minister's Maid (FantasyRanchNovels.com)
Chapter 8 of Falling in Public (The Variety Pages)
Erotica
Chapter 19 of The Mechanic (TrinityMarlow.com - Adults only, NSFW)
Chapter 20 (final) of The Mechanic (TrinityMarlow.com - Adults only, NSFW)
Thriller/Suspense
Chapter 49 of Angel Eyes (AlexWesthaven.com)
Writing/Reading/Publishing
Writing Notes: Writing Short (The Variety Pages)
Hobbies/Other
Nail Art
Stars n' Stripes (Nail Art Tuesday)
Tea
Ice It, Baby! (Tea on Tap)
Health & Personal Wellness
July 9, 2011
On the Bookshelf: The Index: Mages
Excerpt from The Index, Book 1: Mages
"Arri!"
Green
eyes glanced over to the door and a slim, graceful hand reached out
to flick a casual finger in that direction. The door swung open to
show Kari in her usual purple-and-blue robes. Her hair was slightly
damp, indicative of a recent shower.
"Any
news?" Arriella asked.
"Not
that we know of. We've heard of some minor energetic disturbances,
but that was nothing," she shrugged and shut the door behind
herself as she walked in. "We've had people from all over
checking in."
"Any
signs of our friends?" she asked, her voice losing its business
tone for a moment.
Kari
knew that she meant the twins, Shourron II and Makkian, but she shook
her head. "No traces. Sorry."
For
the slightest of seconds, Arriella looked crestfallen – just long
enough for Kari to notice.
"I
wouldn't doubt that they're here, if it helps," she said
quietly. "I know you want to see them."
"That
I do. But what I want and what needs to be done are to remain
separate until further notice."
"Noted.
I should perhaps tell you, the lesser disturbances were caused by the
more desperate attempting a dimensional breach."
This
made Arriella perk up and pay attention.
"Most
of them are way under my caliber, very few rank at mine or above,"
she mused and cringed when she realized the actual implications. "How
many close calls?"
"Too
many. Twenty in the first few hours after the unlocking alone. No
casualties."
A
sudden knock on the door made both women start.
"Enter!"
Arriella called, irritated.
"Arri!"
Another man, by looks no older than either of the two women, was at
the door, gasping for air. "You…You have to see this!"
"Okay,
okay," Kari helped him onto one of the rickety twin beds as
Arriella unfurled herself from the other, concerned. "Sahr, you
want to be specific about this."
It
took a while until Sahr was able to regain his breath; the world that
he was from had a different air composition, one slightly more
oxygenated than that of Earth. Apparently, he ran from whatever his
prior location was to the Bowery and the lower oxygenation, coupled
with running like the wind – considering his element type,
literally so – did not do him much good.
"From
the top," Arriella said slowly, reaching over to her boots and
slipping them on as she got up. "What happened?"
"One
of mine…We found him dead a minute ago."
"Where?"
Kari asked, rising from the bed.
"Central
Park, by the lake."
The
Seeress gasped. "In public?!"
Sahr
nodded.
Arriella,
however, was perplexed. More than her having no idea what caused them
all to come out of dormancy, having some of their hastily-assembled
troops turn up dead just did not compute.
Her
last few missions, not just that of the Jemerian civil war, all
consisted of the associates of the High Mage trying to get a base
planet to restart the takeover operations that their leader had
abandoned upon his sealing. On each world, the people of that planet
would be the ones that would suffer first. It wasn't until part of
the population was indoctrinated that the troops – whether
Cosmic-ordered or planet-specific – would suffer any losses.
As
such, the Earth-bound troops' having their first loss before even
one suspicious human incident was puzzling.
Inside
job, possibly? One of ours?
No,
didn't seem likely. She knew and got to know everyone staying and
gathering at the Bowery Hotel and turned it into the perfect
makeshift command center. Everyone that came on business usually
arrived because they knew that this is where she was or had a friend
in the area. There were no grudges to be had around here, especially
with the victim.
"Arri?"
Kari's voice brought Arriella out of her meanderings.
"I'm
on it," she said shortly and promptly leapt out the second-floor
window, landing lightly on her feet on the pavement below. Kari and
Sahr exchanged looks and followed the same way.
The
trip uptown was shorter than one would expect. Sahr carried Kari with
little effort and Arriella ran at her full speed without restraint.
They reached Central Park quickly enough and before long, found the
body of a Fire Hunter, a foot platoon leader from Arriella's
earlier missions.
Arriella
shook her head, dismayed, and knelt down by the body.
"One
strike," she said as she pointed out the sizable hole in his shirt
that revealed a black scorch mark over his chest. "He took quite
the hit. Close range."
"Did
he put up a fight?" Sahr asked.
Arriella
looked around; the ground around them was devoid of grass and in some
places, the dirt was littered with fine ash, undoubtedly from
incinerated trees.
"No
doubt…" she said. "But apparently, it wasn't good enough."
Sahr
nodded. "Look at the way he fell and the trees behind him. They're
burnt to a crisp and…"
"…Not
by fire," Arriella finished.
As
the three simple words escaped her lips, she fought down a cold dread
rising up in her stomach. This was more than what she cared to
acknowledge; the dead Hunter was someone that was all of one class
lower than herself in power rank. Thus, he was strong enough to
handle most normal threats and almost none of those normal threats
were fireproof. This was not
a
normal threat. The High Mage's associates were not usually that
original. Their leader, potentially, but he's…
"Kari…"
The
Seeress turned to Arriella and immediately froze at the look in her
eyes. "You cannot be serious, woman."
"I
need to see what happened here."
"Not
even if some of us," a pointed look to Sahr, "don't want to see
it?"
"Never
said I didn't," Sahr noted, oblivious to the hint. "Kari,
really, this might explain a lot of things."
Kari
noticed Arriella's glare and nodded, outnumbered. "You guys know
what to do."
Arriella
grasped Sahr by the forearm and took Kari's hand. The Seeress
flared her aura in short bursts of pale pink as she searched for
residual traces of the decedent's energy, which she had no doubt
that he left behind.
And
sure enough, there they were. The traces left behind were a deep gray
that echoed of fire and they were closely intertwined with a powerful
black energy that they were unfamiliar with.
Slowly,
Arriella's eyes drifted shut.
Instantly,
she found herself in a rebuilt vision of the past; it was dusk in the
park and she barely felt Kari's hand on hers; nor did she pay much
mind to Sahr's forearm trembling slightly, the only sign of his
fear.
"Something
bad happened here,"
Sahr noted telepathically as the events of a few hours ago unfolded
in front of them. "I
don't like this feeling."
Arriella
squeezed his forearm in a brief gesture of understanding.
"What
the—NO!"
The
would-be-victim leapt aside and the black blast missed him by a
matter of inches.
"You
know where he is."
The
voice that spoke was melodious, soft and even, but there was a
certain lethal malice in the cadence that made Arriella shiver, even
as a third-party observer. His hair and eyes were black; his outer
robe was black with silver fastenings and he was very distinctly
powerful.
"What
the blazes makes you think I'll tell you if I did?!"
He
rushed forward with a powered punch and the two men engaged in a
series of attack combinations that were almost too fast for her to
see. Soon, though, the young Hunter was catapulted backwards and when
he forced himself back up, he had a cut lip.
The
other man was untouched.
He's
familiar,
Arriella thought and instantly started sifting through the archives
of her memory. He's
familiar and in more than just one way; I've seen him before…
"I
get what I ask for, whelp," he half-hissed and flung a wide arc of
black energy that shoved the young man into the lake.
He
stopped short of the water and launched himself forward again, this
time with a plume of fire in each hand.
"You—"
Every word was punctuated by a punch, "will not – get – your
hands – on him!"
The
blast of fire that the victim released at the last word knocked his
attacker into a tree, charring it and several other trees behind him.
The tops of the trees came down in a haze of stiff branches, burying
the man in a pile of debris.
He
finished his original thought when the dust settled.
"Not
if it's the last thing I do."
The
pile of wooden debris shifted slightly and the Hunter paid no mind as
he straightened up and walked away from the lake banks…
…only
to walk headfirst into his attacker, who stood unhurt, unscathed and
stared him straight in the eye.
The
wood debris were nowhere to be seen, but a fine ash littered the area
where the pile once lay.
"Last
thing you do?" he said, his voice a malicious purr. "That can be
arranged."
In
a split second, he grasped the young man by the shirtfront and
blasted him point-blank, his free hand directly against his victim's
heart. The victim did not have a chance to scream as the blast
engulfed him whole and hit the trees behind him.
The
man righted his robes and turned to survey the area, as though he
knew that the Hunter did something before he died. Sure enough, there
were traces of gray everywhere and they lingered, standing out
brightly against the normal, barely-there energies of other life in
the area; a fatality trail.
He
knew that he wasn't going to come out of this alive,
Arriella and Sahr thought simultaneously, familiar with the
technique. This skill was not limited to just Hunters among the
energetic spectrum; if they thought that they weren't going to come
back alive, they left a trail of energy behind that captured the
events of the area or, if they saw fit, would lead whoever came to
investigate where they had gone to their end. Should the person
survive, the trail dissipated after a few days.
Nearly
all fighters had gone on missions where a trail of this variety was
necessary. In the case of Arriella and the brothers, it was only
their skill and luck that kept them alive, but this was the first
time Arriella ever needed to analyze one.
The
man knew that the fatality trail existed as well, for in the
reproduction of the events, he turned in their precise direction.
Now
that he was facing her, she figured out where she had seen him
before. In fact, she saw some of his features – the straight nose,
the strong jaw and high forehead – very frequently in her twin best
friends. They were close for so many years that she no longer gave
thought to their origins, until now.
"The
High Mage."
The
words slipped out of her mouth on a shocked reflex, a thought
whispered aloud without the realization that they were spoken.
Although she was in an energetic reproduction of the events, the High
Mage likely knew that this would be seen. He looked her straight in
the eye and his lips, uncannily similar to his sons' in shape,
curved into a cold smile before he teleported out.
The
shocked looks on her companions' faces told Arriella that they too
knew who he was.
"We're
in trouble," Sahr said simply.
And
how,
Arriella thought.
The Index Series is available at CreateSpace: Mages | Secrets and Amazon: Mages | Secrets
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On the Bookshelf: The Index, Book 2: Secrets
Excerpt from The Index, Book 2: Secrets
"Arri!"
Green
eyes glanced over to the door and a slim, graceful hand reached out
to flick a casual finger in that direction. The door swung open to
show Kari in her usual purple-and-blue robes. Her hair was slightly
damp, indicative of a recent shower.
"Any
news?" Arriella asked.
"Not
that we know of. We've heard of some minor energetic disturbances,
but that was nothing," she shrugged and shut the door behind
herself as she walked in. "We've had people from all over
checking in."
"Any
signs of our friends?" she asked, her voice losing its business
tone for a moment.
Kari
knew that she meant the twins, Shourron II and Makkian, but she shook
her head. "No traces. Sorry."
For
the slightest of seconds, Arriella looked crestfallen – just long
enough for Kari to notice.
"I
wouldn't doubt that they're here, if it helps," she said
quietly. "I know you want to see them."
"That
I do. But what I want and what needs to be done are to remain
separate until further notice."
"Noted.
I should perhaps tell you, the lesser disturbances were caused by the
more desperate attempting a dimensional breach."
This
made Arriella perk up and pay attention.
"Most
of them are way under my caliber, very few rank at mine or above,"
she mused and cringed when she realized the actual implications. "How
many close calls?"
"Too
many. Twenty in the first few hours after the unlocking alone. No
casualties."
A
sudden knock on the door made both women start.
"Enter!"
Arriella called, irritated.
"Arri!"
Another man, by looks no older than either of the two women, was at
the door, gasping for air. "You…You have to see this!"
"Okay,
okay," Kari helped him onto one of the rickety twin beds as
Arriella unfurled herself from the other, concerned. "Sahr, you
want to be specific about this."
It
took a while until Sahr was able to regain his breath; the world that
he was from had a different air composition, one slightly more
oxygenated than that of Earth. Apparently, he ran from whatever his
prior location was to the Bowery and the lower oxygenation, coupled
with running like the wind – considering his element type,
literally so – did not do him much good.
"From
the top," Arriella said slowly, reaching over to her boots and
slipping them on as she got up. "What happened?"
"One
of mine…We found him dead a minute ago."
"Where?"
Kari asked, rising from the bed.
"Central
Park, by the lake."
The
Seeress gasped. "In public?!"
Sahr
nodded.
Arriella,
however, was perplexed. More than her having no idea what caused them
all to come out of dormancy, having some of their hastily-assembled
troops turn up dead just did not compute.
Her
last few missions, not just that of the Jemerian civil war, all
consisted of the associates of the High Mage trying to get a base
planet to restart the takeover operations that their leader had
abandoned upon his sealing. On each world, the people of that planet
would be the ones that would suffer first. It wasn't until part of
the population was indoctrinated that the troops – whether
Cosmic-ordered or planet-specific – would suffer any losses.
As
such, the Earth-bound troops' having their first loss before even
one suspicious human incident was puzzling.
Inside
job, possibly? One of ours?
No,
didn't seem likely. She knew and got to know everyone staying and
gathering at the Bowery Hotel and turned it into the perfect
makeshift command center. Everyone that came on business usually
arrived because they knew that this is where she was or had a friend
in the area. There were no grudges to be had around here, especially
with the victim.
"Arri?"
Kari's voice brought Arriella out of her meanderings.
"I'm
on it," she said shortly and promptly leapt out the second-floor
window, landing lightly on her feet on the pavement below. Kari and
Sahr exchanged looks and followed the same way.
The
trip uptown was shorter than one would expect. Sahr carried Kari with
little effort and Arriella ran at her full speed without restraint.
They reached Central Park quickly enough and before long, found the
body of a Fire Hunter, a foot platoon leader from Arriella's
earlier missions.
Arriella
shook her head, dismayed, and knelt down by the body.
"One
strike," she said as she pointed out the sizable hole in his shirt
that revealed a black scorch mark over his chest. "He took quite
the hit. Close range."
"Did
he put up a fight?" Sahr asked.
Arriella
looked around; the ground around them was devoid of grass and in some
places, the dirt was littered with fine ash, undoubtedly from
incinerated trees.
"No
doubt…" she said. "But apparently, it wasn't good enough."
Sahr
nodded. "Look at the way he fell and the trees behind him. They're
burnt to a crisp and…"
"…Not
by fire," Arriella finished.
As
the three simple words escaped her lips, she fought down a cold dread
rising up in her stomach. This was more than what she cared to
acknowledge; the dead Hunter was someone that was all of one class
lower than herself in power rank. Thus, he was strong enough to
handle most normal threats and almost none of those normal threats
were fireproof. This was not
a
normal threat. The High Mage's associates were not usually that
original. Their leader, potentially, but he's…
"Kari…"
The
Seeress turned to Arriella and immediately froze at the look in her
eyes. "You cannot be serious, woman."
"I
need to see what happened here."
"Not
even if some of us," a pointed look to Sahr, "don't want to see
it?"
"Never
said I didn't," Sahr noted, oblivious to the hint. "Kari,
really, this might explain a lot of things."
Kari
noticed Arriella's glare and nodded, outnumbered. "You guys know
what to do."
Arriella
grasped Sahr by the forearm and took Kari's hand. The Seeress
flared her aura in short bursts of pale pink as she searched for
residual traces of the decedent's energy, which she had no doubt
that he left behind.
And
sure enough, there they were. The traces left behind were a deep gray
that echoed of fire and they were closely intertwined with a powerful
black energy that they were unfamiliar with.
Slowly,
Arriella's eyes drifted shut.
Instantly,
she found herself in a rebuilt vision of the past; it was dusk in the
park and she barely felt Kari's hand on hers; nor did she pay much
mind to Sahr's forearm trembling slightly, the only sign of his
fear.
"Something
bad happened here,"
Sahr noted telepathically as the events of a few hours ago unfolded
in front of them. "I
don't like this feeling."
Arriella
squeezed his forearm in a brief gesture of understanding.
"What
the—NO!"
The
would-be-victim leapt aside and the black blast missed him by a
matter of inches.
"You
know where he is."
The
voice that spoke was melodious, soft and even, but there was a
certain lethal malice in the cadence that made Arriella shiver, even
as a third-party observer. His hair and eyes were black; his outer
robe was black with silver fastenings and he was very distinctly
powerful.
"What
the blazes makes you think I'll tell you if I did?!"
He
rushed forward with a powered punch and the two men engaged in a
series of attack combinations that were almost too fast for her to
see. Soon, though, the young Hunter was catapulted backwards and when
he forced himself back up, he had a cut lip.
The
other man was untouched.
He's
familiar,
Arriella thought and instantly started sifting through the archives
of her memory. He's
familiar and in more than just one way; I've seen him before…
"I
get what I ask for, whelp," he half-hissed and flung a wide arc of
black energy that shoved the young man into the lake.
He
stopped short of the water and launched himself forward again, this
time with a plume of fire in each hand.
"You—"
Every word was punctuated by a punch, "will not – get – your
hands – on him!"
The
blast of fire that the victim released at the last word knocked his
attacker into a tree, charring it and several other trees behind him.
The tops of the trees came down in a haze of stiff branches, burying
the man in a pile of debris.
He
finished his original thought when the dust settled.
"Not
if it's the last thing I do."
The
pile of wooden debris shifted slightly and the Hunter paid no mind as
he straightened up and walked away from the lake banks…
…only
to walk headfirst into his attacker, who stood unhurt, unscathed and
stared him straight in the eye.
The
wood debris were nowhere to be seen, but a fine ash littered the area
where the pile once lay.
"Last
thing you do?" he said, his voice a malicious purr. "That can be
arranged."
In
a split second, he grasped the young man by the shirtfront and
blasted him point-blank, his free hand directly against his victim's
heart. The victim did not have a chance to scream as the blast
engulfed him whole and hit the trees behind him.
The
man righted his robes and turned to survey the area, as though he
knew that the Hunter did something before he died. Sure enough, there
were traces of gray everywhere and they lingered, standing out
brightly against the normal, barely-there energies of other life in
the area; a fatality trail.
He
knew that he wasn't going to come out of this alive,
Arriella and Sahr thought simultaneously, familiar with the
technique. This skill was not limited to just Hunters among the
energetic spectrum; if they thought that they weren't going to come
back alive, they left a trail of energy behind that captured the
events of the area or, if they saw fit, would lead whoever came to
investigate where they had gone to their end. Should the person
survive, the trail dissipated after a few days.
Nearly
all fighters had gone on missions where a trail of this variety was
necessary. In the case of Arriella and the brothers, it was only
their skill and luck that kept them alive, but this was the first
time Arriella ever needed to analyze one.
The
man knew that the fatality trail existed as well, for in the
reproduction of the events, he turned in their precise direction.
Now
that he was facing her, she figured out where she had seen him
before. In fact, she saw some of his features – the straight nose,
the strong jaw and high forehead – very frequently in her twin best
friends. They were close for so many years that she no longer gave
thought to their origins, until now.
"The
High Mage."
The
words slipped out of her mouth on a shocked reflex, a thought
whispered aloud without the realization that they were spoken.
Although she was in an energetic reproduction of the events, the High
Mage likely knew that this would be seen. He looked her straight in
the eye and his lips, uncannily similar to his sons' in shape,
curved into a cold smile before he teleported out.
The
shocked looks on her companions' faces told Arriella that they too
knew who he was.
"We're
in trouble," Sahr said simply.
And
how,
Arriella thought.
The Index Series is available at CreateSpace: Mages | Secrets and Amazon: Mages | Secrets
Connect with Katherine at: Facebook | Twitter | Blog and The Index Series on Facebook **Please note -
comments take a few moments to appear. Refresh the page to view new
comments. If this is your first time posting, your comment will be
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July 8, 2011
Serial Novel: Falling in Public, Ch. 8
***If you are easily offended by graphic adult material or if you are under 18 yrs old, do not read further. ***
Ch.1|Ch. 2|Ch. 3|Ch. 4|Ch. 5|Ch. 6|Ch. 7
Falling in Public
Chapter 8
Holly let herself lean back against Eddie's solid chest, absorbing both his heat and the desire that seemed to pulse between them as he placed gentle, enticing kisses at the juncture of her neck. Her body relaxed and her eyes drifted shut as she willed herself to stop thinking and just feel her way through the moment. Things would work out in the end. Or not. The only thing that mattered right here, right now was the feel of his callused fingers running over her skin. His hard thighs tight against hers. The way he walked her backward, so slowly she barely noticed until they weren't in the studio anymore, and he moved around to face her as he shut the door, plunging them into darkness just before his lips settled firmly over her own.
A shocked cry escaped as he leaned down and swung her up into his arms. Then he was kissing her again, and she didn't care where they were or where they were going, as long as he never let go.
Soft blankets cradled her when he laid her down, and she reluctantly let go of his neck as he lifted her shirt over her head. She reached back and unhooked her bra, tossing it to the side as he peeled off his own shirt. He leaned over and licked a long, lazy trail over one of her nipples with his tongue, sucking the tip between his teeth and biting down gently.
Holly let her head fall back with a whimper, arching up for him as he moved to the other side. Running her fingers through his hair, she tried to hold him in place, but it was no use. He explored every inch of her torso, his hands tracing curves where his tongue left off. His knee came up between her legs and the pressure was nothing short of exquisitely frustrating through two much denim.
"Eddie," she breathed, raising her hips against his as he pressed closer. "Eddie please..." She reached down and unfastened his jeans, running her fingers lightly over the bulge in his briefs before pushing the fabric off his hips. Silky smooth, she caressed his hard cock, earning a groan before he pulled away.
Impatient fingers pulled her jeans and panties off. Her legs fell open as she heard a package rip, and then he was between her legs, filling her slowly as his lips touched hers again. Light, nibbling kisses played at her mouth and she tried to respond in kind, but her entire being was centered at the place where they joined. Intense sensations she couldn't begin to describe flared out under her skin with every slow thrust, and when he reached between them, moving his thumb in gentle circles over her swollen clit, she couldn't hold back any longer.
Arching up with a cry, she took him in as deep as she could, her body pulsing around his cock as the orgasm ripped through. With a couple quick thrusts, he came with her, a low moan punctuating his own release as he stiffened between her legs. Another kiss, slow and lazy, and then he moved away, leaving her too quickly bereft of his warmth. She fought the doubt that tried to take hold as soon as he left, the uncertainty of what would come. Instead, she focused on breathing as her heart slowly settled down, and her muscles relaxed into that delicious, langourous state she'd nearly forgotten existed.
He joined her again then, pulling a comforter up over them both as he tucked her back securely to his front, one arm nestled cozily under her breasts. A single kiss on the back of her neck sent her whole body tingling again, and her lips curved up, just a little. Closing her eyes, she vowed that whatever happened in the morning, she'd never regret this night. It was too perfect, and for a moment, she let herself dream of what could be.
"Holly? Holly, wake up."
She opened her eyes at her name to see Eddie standing by the bed in his jeans, one hand on her shoulder. She blinked and yawned, her mind trying to catch up as he turned to gather up her clothes and tossed them on the bed beside her.
"You have to go, right now. My agent's on his way, the studio execs are pissed, and why the hell didn't you tell me you were a writer?"
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