Elaina J. Davidson's Blog, page 99
August 11, 2023
August 10, 2023
August 9, 2023
Just clicked publish :)
Ethereal Musician's Portuguese translation:
August 8, 2023
August 7, 2023
Echo and smoke rings!
I wrote this paragraph yesterday morning for Echo: Autumn of the Dragon:
Most of those islandssported a cone emitting wispy fumes. Volcanic activity had not ceased. Echoshook his head as they sailed around a mighty edifice, staring at what amountedto smoke rings, as if the thing belched on purpose like to a show-off smoker.He wondered if the truth would surface, or would Senluar hold to her secrets.Everything felt contrived.
Later, while scrolling on FB, this came up:
Lol, truth as strange as fiction in this case?
August 6, 2023
Chapter 10: GABRIEL
Thedude in the mirror is trying to kill her!
Ivy movesinto an overgrown cottage in the back of beyond two days before Christmas. Shesoon discovers that the old place keeps old secrets. The mirror above hermantlepiece is not what it seems. Ash and oil footsteps appear from nowhere, asdoes writing on a wall.
Is herrefuge haunted? Ha, well, she’ll decorate the bejeezus out of it, overwhelmwhatever it is with pretty baubles and blinking lights. Not everyone lovesChristmas as much as she does, after all.
A goodplan indeed … until Gabriel introduces himself.
Oldhouses certainly do keep old secrets.
X
W
ait. I have acondition.”
Arms akimbo at her CD player - she intended to pop her carols disc in -Ivy glared at Gabriel in his robes. Why robes? Folk didn’t wear bloody robeslike that a thousand years ago. Was it a sorcery thing? Never mind.
Ivy, focus.
“I am not here to negotiate,” he growled.
Actually growled. One read about that shite in novels, but who actuallydid it in real life? Come on, peeved folk didn’t bloody growl like big cats,not in reality. He did. Blimey, he sounded for a moment there like a sabretooth, never mind a cuddly lion.
She stood her ground. “According to the law of the land in the present, Iam boss here. You have scared the crap out of me and yet, here I am, helpingyou. Yeah, because I want you on your merry way, but truth is, I could’ve runout that door and left you to your waiting. Correct?”
He stared at her so long, goosebumps clambered even into her armpits.
“What is your condition?” he eventually asked.
“I wish for light in my space, whether grey or bright. The ivy hasovergrown the windows, and that makes me feel claustrophobic also. So, if youcould remove the ivy … not everywhere, but so it’s pretty, an adornment ratherthan a strangler vine taking all light away. You know? You can do that, right?A finger snap?”
Baby Jesus in a hay bale, she was rambling. His unblinking blue staremade her nervous.
“You wish for a picture book cottage.”
She sucked at her teeth. Did she? All pretty and countrified? The kindshe always drooled over in lifestyle magazines? Yes, she wanted that.
Shrugging, she admitted to it.
Gabriel smiled then. The gesture entirely altered his stern features.Wow. Pity about the thousand-year gap.
“My wife wished for that also.”
Right. A man in mourning. Put them flutter bugs back in the jar, girl.
He snapped his fingers. “It is as you wish.”
Of course, it was now too dark to notice the difference, but Ivy moved tothe nearest window and grasped the grimy handle. After twisting and shoving abit, she pushed the sash open. Fresh air swirled in, icy enough to reveal thethreat of snow soon. No ivy remained over the window.
Grinning, she closed up again. This had just saved her weeks ofpainstaking and back-breaking labour. Damn, when a city girl got creative, shegot creative.
“Thank you.”
Gabriel nodded and proceeded to light up every Christmas string.
True. That’s what they were doing. Luring a killer in with prettybaubles.
Sighing, Ivy shoved the CD in.
Near ten o’clock,having consumed the microwave turkey dinner for one she bought at the store theday before - she offered Gabriel a share, for the dinner was in fact enough tofeed ten, but he claimed he had no need to eat - Gabriel’s End was one giantChristmas beacon.
Inside, at least. Flakes fell outside now, slow and soft, and thus Ivyput the outdoor strings off until another occasion. Maybe next Christmas … ifshe bloody survived this one.
Music soared.
Colours winked on and off.
Spices and gravy aroma permeated every space.
The fire crackled merrily.
The tree glowed as if fairies danced amid the plastic branches.
Tinsel twirled and glinted.
Clasping her hands together, Ivy got all misty-eyed. It was exactly asshe envisioned. The perfect Christmas. Utter bliss. No one around to tell herhow to behave.
Then her gaze fell on Gabriel in the shadows next to the fireplace. Hewaited there, still as a statue. Creepy. If anything did come through themirror, he’d be in position to pounce.
Drat. What a way to spoil perfection.
Between ten and half-ten was the killer’s witching hour, apparently. Theyhad discussed it, and now, as the electronic clock on her mobile lit up whenthe silent alarm she’d set kicked in, Ivy crossed warily to the mirror … andyanked the cover off.
An instant later she ducked and screamed.
A dagger came hurtling out of the darkness. It thudded into the woodenreveal surrounding the nearest window, quivering there like to a burrowingmetal lizard.
Scuttling to her wall of unpacked boxes, Ivy cowered as a man indirt-encrusted leather bespeckled with metal detail vaulted from the height ofthe mantelpiece and thudded to the hearth stones.
Washed out green eyes fixated on her, and then he leered.
Ambling closer, he hefted two wicked-looking knives.
Ivy screamed.
Why is Torrullin on the cover?
Those of you who have followed me through my writing journey will know how I've lamented about finding an image to showcase how I see Torrullin Valla (Lore's MC). Such as these from a FB album, none of which are quite right:
It wasn't that I needed to see him, it was more I hoped to show him to you. And, truthfully, the right images act as inspiration for this writer! Now, on the other hand, as I've said before, I also prefer leaving faces and features up to the reader's imagination, so, well, not a train smash that he proved elusive. A yes and no situation for me, thus. Typical writer! And then, AI art, and maybe the right prompts would bring him to life. Ha, easier said than done. My first attempt delivered this one:
Firstly, what was I thinking? To start with TV when I knew absolutely nothing about prompts etc? But the emotion is in the pic, so I shared, while telling you it's not exactly what I had in mind. Secondly, people are difficult, landscapes are far easier - should've cut my teeth on those first. I have since tried multiple times to find the right prompt, and then … well, I actually stared at my screen for quite a time when the one popped up.
I hope he matches how you have imagined him!
Next, the idea of using him on a cover overcame me and I mocked one up for House of Valla - 'a golden bloodline spanning the ages' after all. I do like the result, and while part of me wonders if this is right for my Lore, the new cover is now live. Having asked the question on twitter (or X), the response was 50% for the old cover, 50 for the new, thus is mine an executive decision 😊 and I'll be keeping an eye, especially in the UK where House of Valla ranks consistently.
Now you know!
HOUSE OF VALLA
