Chelsea Gaither's Blog, page 47

STARBLEACHED #3 Cover progress

Overseer's Own is coming along swimmingly. SWIMMINGLY, I tell you.

Here is cover:

But CW! I hear you say! What is that big blurry spot?

That's Bryan. Getting his features right was a pain. I'll still probably go back and do more, but I think he looks pretty good, don't you?

In other words? You don't get to find out what an Overseer looks like in my mind until after the cover is released.Because I am that kind of person.

We're on our way!

Cerulian Sins--chapter 12

I think the thing that aggravates me the most about this series is Jean Claude's pet name for Anita. Correct me if I am wrong, but doesn't ma petite translate to "My little?" There's probably a cultural language thing that I'm just not getting here, but I think being short and being called "My Little" by a boyfriend who could bench press a cement mixer full of cheerleaders if he wanted to would probably make my lebido go the way of the dodo.

It's not so bad when the series is good, because Jean Claude is supposed to be an asshole, but when the series sucks, my GOD does it get old.

Anyhoo, Anita, Jean Claude and Asher are all about to have sex.

There is no way to make blogging about a sex scene interesting. I've been trying for three books now, and the summery is basically "Lick kiss lick lick suck, Karma Sutra, that shouldn't go there, if it is spilling it's not orgasm, it's bad hygene, and sex shouldn't fix everything."

That's every sex scene LKH has ever written.

Anita also establishes that she doesn't want to be there when the vampires "die" at dawn. Because they do that .

(Jack Flemming. Jack Flemming. My kingdom for Jack Flemming, Vampire PI)

Dawn is only two hours away.

Okay, so now they should start having sex.

 I was suddenly very aware that I was the only girl, and they were both men. I know that sounds silly. I mean, I knew that already, but  .  .  . I suddenly felt it. It was like walking into a bar and feeling all those eyes follow you as you walk, like lions watching gazelles.

Anita, baby? Asher is far less interested in you. Seriously. You are not the main attraction here. You're that barricade Asher has to vault over to get to the main ride, if you know what I mean.

And then we get that little flash of good writing that reminds me what a fucking waste this series was. Anita slips off the bed because silk sheets tend to do that. Asher and Jean Claude spend a few minutes talking about how Jean Claude injured himself seducing a duchess and falling off her bed, and it's actually a good and humanizing kind of moment. We are reminded that these are people with a history before Anita showed up, who will have a history together long after she's gone--theoretically--and that Anita is just a bit player in their drama.

And then it goes back to being the All Anita, All the Time show, and she's in a race with dawn and the ardeur to get Asher naked. Which means we now have to describe every inch of scarring, and oh fuck does that take forever.

A note. Asher has been like this for centuries, and he's acting like it happened two or three months ago. Like being hideously scarred has ended his life forever, and woe is he, he will never be whole again.

One of my personal heroes is a cop. I've forgotten his name, I've only seen him on TV, and he's probably the single most awesome person I've ever heard of. He rolled a police car during a chase and got burned on every inch of his body. The first time I saw him on TV it was a medical show about implants and replacement bodyparts (I was a weird kid) and they were building him a new nose and new ears because the fire kind of took his. I remember thinking "Oh, hey, cool, how nice of them to make implants for the damaged police officer."

Fast forward a couple years, and I'm watching cop shows now, and there's the scarred cop. He's a dectective now, working homicide, and those prosthetics I watched them build ten years ago? Yeah, those are nowhere. Because his scars weren't him and his body wasn't him, and he was far more interested in doing his job than he was in how he looked in front of a TV camera. That is what strength looks like, and I wish to God I could remember his name so I could link the whole world to how awesome he is.

The problem I have with Asher isn't that he's a fucked up scarred mess who needs to heal. It's that he's been that way for hundreds of years, and LKH expects us to buy that Anita is healing him with her vagina. I think people can heal, I think people can change, but I think that healing and change has to happen from inside. One thing that fasicnates me, and it's something I keep coming back to in my own writing, is the resiliance of the human spirit. That we get knocked down and get back up and say "throw it again, dude" and no matter how awful our lives get, we're not ready to give up and we're completely ready to let the scars heal over. With Anita, there's this aura of "love can fix everything" that is psychological poison for everything attached to it. It's bad for Anita because she can't fix everything, and it's bad for the people around her because it implies that they can't and shouldn't take personal responsibility for themselves. It's a codependant relationship, and like any codependant relationship it turns every party involved into a soul-sucking black hole.

Anyhoo, the climax of this chapter, and yes I did that on purpose, is when Asher is finally bare-ass naked and it is revealed that his penis, blog readers, his penis is perfect. Because it was scarred, you see, and a doctor figured out that if he did something to it, Asher's penis would go back to being normal. Jean Claude loses it and starts sobbing and holding Asher and Asher starts sobbing and holding Jean Claude and this happens:

They held each other and cried, and laughed, and healed, and I was suddenly superfluous, kneeling on the bed in my lingerie. And for once, I didn’t mind in the least.

Wow. Two guys who have loved each other for centuries are having much needed catharsis, but it still has to be all about Anita. WOW. Thank you. Thank you for allowing these guys a moment of privacy that isn't tainted by your vagina. Very big of you.

End of chapter. Fuck you, Anita Blake.

Cerulian Sins--chapter 10-11

Business first, guys and girls! First of all, Starbleached is free, Use this coupon: RB36X Planet Bob  is now one dollar.  Basically it's two books for half price if you grab 'em both. Coupon is WN73R. Am I being annoying? Yep. Probably. But I put a lot of work into these things. If you're not into Starbleached yet, now's your chance. Second, sample of the third book, Overseer's Own, is right over here. If you haven't read it yet, now's your chance.

There. Book time now!

One thing I've been doing with Overseer's Own in the editing process--one thing I do every editing process, actually--is delete large portions of text. Places where I explain something that is neither a part of the story nor clear enough to be good world building, and that information is not critical enough to be worth clarifying. Writing for pay--even if it's just twenty bucks a month--means that you're writing against time. And when you are writing against time, wasting it on something that doesn't actually contribute to the overall picture is bad. Seriously. It's If You Give a Mouse a Cookie only the mouse comes out of your head.

Why do I bring this up?

LESS THAN AN hour later Jean-Claude and I were in his room, alone. Damian was one of the guards outside our door. We’d split our vamps up among the wereanimals so that, hopefully, the bad vampires couldn’t use mind tricks on the wereanimals without the vamps knowing it. We’d done the best we could do, which had actually been pretty damned good. The ardeur was still in hiding. I wasn’t questioning it, just grateful.

What the fuck does that have to do with anything? What does it mean? Why are we worried about what the bad vampires would know? WHAT THE FUCK DOES THIS CONTRIBUTE?

*takes deep breath*

You know, I'm not the best writer in the world. I know I'm not the best writer in the world. But you know what else? I'M NOT GETTING PAID HUNDREDS OF THOUSANDS OF DOLLARS TO WRITE THIS SHIT. (Also: Google fu will not turn up any hard numbers on how much LKH IS getting advanced for this shit, so I am assuming it is a six figure amount. If it is otherwise please correct me, I will feel so much better about myself if you do) If you are getting paid massive amounts of money you do your fucking job and make sure that you clean the manuscript up until somebody like me won't choke on it.

We also find out that Jean Claude has that bed from First Wives Club, the one that Bette Midler sobbed over, only he had the canopy, pillows and bedsheets done in blue.


It's funny that I could swallow the clothes--I think they're insane, but I could buy Jean Claude being dumb enough to wear them to show off--and the living room, but I can't do this bedroom. I can't. Everything else could be a show, but no way is a male danger vamp going to have a princess's bedroom.

Anita asks Jean Claude if her and Jean Claude not sleeping with Asher means that Musette gets to have Asher again tomorrow night. Jean Claude uses a lot of words to say "Yep"

It is also confirmed that Musette is indeed a pedophile, only for blood and not sex. She has two vampires who are physically six and eleven, respectively. The boy is described as "precocious" and in need of a grown up lover. This paragraph happens:

“He looked like a child, Anita, and he would use that innocent face to maneuver women into compromising situations. By the time they realized that they were in danger of abuse, it was often too late. More than that, he threatened to accuse them of being the aggressor. There was no such phrase as child molestation in that century, but everyone knew it happened.

Yep. An eleven year old child is capable of doing this.

Okay, having watched social work most of my life--both my parents are councelors and they ran a foster home for a while--I know that an eleven year old is capable of doing this...because they watch the kids who are abused report said abuse and realize it gives them a way to get power over the adults in their lives. In many of these cases, though, the kid doesn't really understand all the implications of what they're doing. And the only reason they DO know they can do it is they are living in a system designed to punish abusers. These kids are also very rare and do not grow up well.

LKH expects me to believe that an eleven-year-old medieval kid--we're talking Marie Antoinette era at the very very latest--would understand the social implications of sexual blackmail well enough to use it on his lovers to get them to sleep with him. In an era where marrying at twelve was perfectly acceptable.

Right.

How about the other child vamp? Somebody made her because she was pretty, and Musette gave her human nannies and human playmates until the little darling tried to turn one of her playmates into a vampire and killed the human nannie when she discovered that Valentina's little tea party didn't actually involve tea.

So at this point I have a question: Why involve kids? It made sense--sort of--with Nikolaus because it was unexpected and Nickolaus had a position of power. These kids are window dressing for Musette. It's like Ra surrounding himself with little kids in Stargate. I understand this, but I don't get this. It's not adding to the aura of scary. It's more...oh ICK than anything else. WHY DO THIS?

Anyhow, eventually it comes back to "We have to screw Asher to keep him safe." Oh, and this little gem pops up in the conversation:

To Belle Morte, if a man has an orgasm, then he must have enjoyed himself. It is her reasoning.”

Hey, Laurell? You know that scene in Narcissus in Chains where Micah raped Anita in the shower? And she orgasmed so that make it all okay? Yeah. DO YOU READ YOUR OWN-- fuck, of course you don't read your own fucking books. You sent Affliction to your publisher the day you finished the first fucking draft. Oh my god, guys, do you know how happy I'd be if I could just proofread my books and publish them? I'd be so happy. The books would be a mess, but I'd be happy.

Finally, Anita decides that if they all sleep together tonight, Asher will be safe tomorrow, and that's enough justification to allow two men who love each other very much to have sex.

Anita is a terrible person. She admits that it isn't fair, of course, but she doesn't do anything to change that. And she's sleeping with everybody, so...

Chapter eleven, Asher comes in. They debate for a while about wheither or not anybody's going to have sex. Asher, being a human being with thoughts and feelings and emotions of his own, doesn't want to sleep with them just to be safe from Musette. He tells Anita to fuck off. Anita refuses because consent is for weaker people, I guess? She starts manhandling Asher while he backs up against a door. Finally, he starts emotionally blackmailing her by demanding she not "run" tomorrow, which I guess means he wants a blank check for sex in exchange for soothing her guilty conscience tonight.

They're both terrible.

And then Anita plays the Richard card:

“I let Richard walk out on me. I think he’d have gone anyway, but I just sat on the floor and watched him go. I didn’t stand in his way. I figured it was his choice, and you can’t hold someone if they don’t want to be held. If someone really wants to be free of you, you have to let them go. Well, fuck that, fuck that all to hell. Don’t go, Asher, please, don’t go.

ANITA: YOU RAPED HIM. YOU RAPED HIM. FUCK YES, HE LEFT.

LAURELL: STOP WORKING YOUR PSYCHOLOGICAL ISSUES OUT IN YOUR BOOKS AND HIRE A COUNSELOR. THEY ARE MORE EXPENSIVE BUT THE FANS WILL THANK YOU.


Chapter ends with Anita kissing Asher and murmuring "I love you" over and over and over again.

BONUS ROUND: Google fu could not uncover LKH's advance numbers, which I really wanted to know, but I found these two interviews and they are kind of precious. Enjoy!

Overseer's Own BOOK SAMPLE!

Yes, my loyal book and blog-readers. It is that time. Still a little rough in places but we are taking care of that as we speak, and here is your sample of the book to come. Please note: MAJOR spoilers for Planet Bob in the first scene, so this is actually the second.

And just in case you've forgotten, Starbleached is free, and you have no idea how much that hurts. That's still my best book so far IMHO. Use this coupon: RB36X

Planet Bob is in on the action, too. Half off! Yep. 50% off. Planet Bob is now one dollar.  Basically it's two books for half price if you grab 'em both. Coupon is WN73R

Here is your sample:



Two: NowWhen he stepped off the fighter, they greeted him with weapons. Four projectile arms, with connectors woven into the nervous systems of the Eldking’s personal guards. Not the best welcome. He—it was difficult to think of himself as Bryan Landry, though he knew that had been his name—felt the first flutter of terror as their minds brushed his. These were the elite of the Overseers. Brightminds, each and every one of them, with every sense of self obliterated by their chosen duty. Their thoughts burned harsh as the light of a burning star. They could flay his mind down to its basest form, uncover all his secrets, and plant whatever poisoned seeds they chose. He was powerless before them.And yet his mind turned to those thoughts like a flower to the sun. He had avoided his own kind too long. He wanted their community. Damn his traitor body, he longed for it. He’d been human, once. He even remembered it for brief and fleeting moments. That was not true anymore, no matter how much he and others might wish it. He was theirs. Their blood, their mind, their kin, and every part of him knew it. His consciousness recoiled from the invasion of thought; the rest of him leaned towards it like the embrace of a brother.The battle to keep his secrets hidden was already half lost.Faces pale as the skin of a silver moon, the other Overseers watched him. Behind the four were perhaps twenty Lowminds. Bowed and bent with coiled energy, their four eyes avid only with hunger, they watched him warily. Each of them was like a dark hole waiting to be filled by a greater, brighter mind. That was the way of the Overseer. The stronger filled the weaker, and in filling they obliterated. The Lowmind feared the Highmind, and feared the Brightmind more. They feared the Brightest Mind most of all.It seemed they could also spare a little fear for Bryan Landry. Cold comfort, that.The Homeship curled around them. Black carapace was blue washed by organic lights. It was brighter here than it would be in the living quarters. A hanger bay was always designed to be a shooting gallery of sorts, easy to guard and impossible to invade. But compared to human society these open spaces were cool as twilight in the lee of a great stone. After so many days of sunlight, Bryan welcomed the dimness. Power conduits and organelles blinked in organic support pillars. Powerpack hearts fluxed as read-screens projected their information onto delicate membranes, the unimportant things that life-engineers didn’t want continually projected into their already cluttered thoughts. The Homeship pulsed against his feet, the selfless void of its computations rested patiently against his mind. It was like coming to hell. It was like coming home.“What do you come for?” one of the Guard asked. The Kind were psychic. Speaking aloud rather than mind-to-mind was an insult. Bryan squelched the immediate rage. Not here, not now. This was not the time to pick a fight. “I come to see the Eldking.” -You come for the woman, I think.- The mind behind this thought was not present. Distance hadn’t muted the volume. Those words were like a shaft of bright sunlight, a star gone nova.It had confused him when he realized humans liked the glow and heat of starlight. It burned the eye and skin, dried out the lungs and made existence a misery. Better the cool dimness of a sheltered place, soft moisture on the air. Light drove these places out, as the invasion of a Brightmind erased one’s own identity. It took all his strength, but he did not respond. “He gives you the honor of his thought, Nameless One.” The nearest Guard whispered.Bryan growled, fists clenched. He had a name. He had won it from his own traitor memory. The Guard’s mind attacked his, searching for a crack in his defenses, a way to infect him with their own eagerness for battle. It didn’t work. He did not give in to anger and throw the blow. The Guards’ mind rippled with the deep burgundy of disappointment. He smiled and forced the surface of his thought to be placid, colorless. Battle was a release. Denying it…well, that might be the only satisfaction he would have in these coming hours. -Bring him.- The great thought slammed through all their minds, and the Brightmind’s assent radiated back in return. The urge to run was overwhelming. He had denied himself every pleasure to escape the Eldking’s presence the first time. Now he risked losing even his freedom, just to rescue one human female.Just one. He closed his eyes. Somewhere in these comfortable halls was a woman, dark eyes, red hair, a smile he had seen perhaps three times in this alien life of his. Her touch was gentle. How much gentleness was there in this universe? He walked forward unassisted. The Guards’ amusement burned like acid. To the Overseer, a human was fragile, a thing made to die. Did it matter how they perished when their lives were so brief? In answer, he focused on the woman’s face. The alternative would have been fatal.He had come here to rescue her, yes, but he had a second purpose. He had a plan, he and Bob Harris did. Cobbled together in a tiny human ship not even twenty four hours ago. The Eldking’s flagship had never been so exposed, or so close to a human world. The human war-fleet could take advantage of this. His job was to arrange—Interest peaked around him. Damn. The greatest problem with the mind: you cannot tell yourself not to think about something without thinking about it. You can’t even lie. Just obfuscate. Confuse. Omit.  When the first probing thought touched his, he quickly focused on his ship. It was small, a fighter that humans called a Fang. He’d stolen it from the Eldking’s own hold four months ago, and many of its parts were disastrously old. The engine emissions alone would have given him away, were it not for the cloak.No. I must keep this secret. I must, he thought. The Guards’ mind became even more focused. The Guard were unique; if you faced one Guard within a ship you faced them all. Their mind was like water from a thousand sources all poured into the same bowl. One of them would be relaying Bryan’s every gesture, word and surface thought to the Eldking himself. Another would be standing in the most distant part of the ship, and he would know everything that was done here. That mind was frightening and it was terribly hungry. More minds, more bodies, more secrets. More. He thought the Guard would consume the universe if the Eldking did not keep it in check. They walked down a gold-lit hall—not a common area, but a work hall—and the Guard’s probe lanced deeper.-What is the cloak?- The Guard demanded.It slipped from his mind like sand through fingers. It was a device of his own invention, conceived within the Homeship, developed on the planet Dorofey and finally grown on the world below. It sat within his ship, between the computer and the primary power coil. The surface armor of a Fang reflected Overseer radar like a mirror. Fangs couldn’t hide in the deep void of space. The cloak poisoned the ship, forced the surface to soften and fuzz. Overseers did not have viewports in their ships. They used their instrumentations exclusively. The cloak turned its ship into a hole in space.The only downside was how much that poison weakened the armor. It could heal in a handful of seconds, but while the cloak was active even a slow meteorite could puncture the outer carapace. But Bryan had already proven how well the cloak worked. He’d made it through the Cold Faction without incident, and the entire Faction had been looking for him. They wanted to trade him to the Eldking for the right to invade Golden Dragon, and he had made it through their patrols, through their finest battalions, using a device no bigger than a human heart. Proof of concept. The cloak worked. Satisfaction colored the Guards’ mind. This was followed immediately by the Eldking’s command. –Remove the device from the fighter. Destroy the fighter. Study the device.-And Bryan was released.Keeping the relief from blowing it was a titanic struggle. Thoughts and emotions were like the pages of a book; you could only read what lay on the uppermost page. Probes were done to force the victim to think of what they most wished to hide. They couldn’t actually find something not in your conscious thoughts. But deception could not be done the human way. A lie could not be conceived and exploited because the uppermost thought would be this is a lie. For an Overseer, deception was a pyrrhic victory. You had to sacrifice the truth, one piece at a time, and pray you never had to expose a vital piece.But there was one small advantage. They called it the Echo, an intuitive sense as vital as scent, sight or hearing. An Overseer always knew what their words and actions will do. An insult can be counted upon to incite rage because you know, sure as stars shine, that your words will have that effect. It was like holding a stone above a pond and knowing where the ripples would eventually fall, should you let go.The Echo whispered to him now. The cloak was a stone. His presence here was a stone. The ripples were spreading out. He had suggested to Bob that they could force the Overseers to fight one another; crippling the Homeship was the suspended bolder they needed. The ripples here would soon become waves.Unless he blew it. The Echo told him that was more likely than success.His left palm itched as if a small rock had lodged on the inner lip of the ust’ye, the feeding organ. He could not scratch. That “stone” would cause unsatisfactory ripples. It was the small black subspace tracker Bob Harris had given him. Bob had intended it simply as a way to extract Bryan and Adry Parker, once he found her. Bryan had radioed back a different plan.Very different. Activation would have rather explosive consequences. If they find it, they will take it away. They will study it, realize that it is a homing device. They will watch me that much more carefully. And I cannot afford to spend too much time here. I cannot lose the cloak device. I cannot afford to be contained.And especially, I cannot let this damned thing turn on if I am still aboard this ship.He walked through the last set of blast doors, and the Homeship welcomed him home.Home. How could any place this wicked feel so very safe? How could a place so comfortable chill the blood in the very same moment?His kind—Overseers, humans named them. The nadziratelya. Humans were so free with names—did not hold their breath in fear. No shivering or trembling while the gut turned cold. They became still and alert. Only the scent of fear remained, thick, heavy and unmistakable. The musk of fear was his ever-present companion now, and he could feel the Guards’ unspoken contempt.-So scared we would find your surprise?- one of them thought, and laughed aloud. Then they refocused on him, tighter, more intently. –Have you tested it on human systems yet?-Answering was as easy as thinking. Bryan let his thoughts wander.Fooling human systems would be trickier. Yes, humans used radar and computer analysis, but their primary detection system was their own eyes. Once they spotted you, they’d find a way to circumvent the cloak. Especially if they were looking for it.He’d told the Human Resistance on Golden Dragon all about it, in as much detail as possible. He’d also told Bob Harris. Both fleets would certainly be watching. And if he hadn’t? There were other humans in the universe.Well, they would be deceived at first. Possibly for even longer, if you were a canny pilot and kept out of visual range. For a while, he’d believed they would continue to be deceived even at close range, that their assumptions were as unchanging as the Overseers’ own. But working with the Resistance on Golden Dragon had told him they would not make the same error twice. And humans used visual confirmation far more frequently in combat. The cloak would work for one battle. Two, at most. Then the Humans would have a counter-measure in play.Disappointment as the Guard’s mind withdrew. What use was a cloak if it could not hide the Kind from the humans?Bryan’s pulse increased. No fear, no nerves, not a ripple to trouble the mind. He had made it through the Cold Faction, had he not? This knife was best wielded against enemies of like purpose, not the cattle they had come to butcher.Silence as they walked through halls lit with gold, with amber, with a dull swamp green. It reminded Bryan of Dorofey, and of Adry, and he banned that memory before it went any further. Along with the nervy, jittery urge to will, swallow it, swallow it, swallow it whole.A shudder passed through the guard. And then a thought from the Brightest Mind. –We shall study it more. Continue.-The bait had been taken.Bryan didn’t let the satisfaction exist for more than a heartbeat. The tracker rubbed against the soft flesh inside his ust’ye, and the Guard brought him deeper into the ship. Humans named all things. Overseers had to earn theirs, through great deeds, high ranks, magnificent inventions…or through their own crushing failure. Names were a thing either of pride or of shame, but not something one was entitled to. Often one’s rank was the only identity you had. Brightmind of a great ship, Engineer of this great section. Shipsoul—this word had first been translated as ‘god’ by those who studied such things. Loss of rank meant a loss of self. Only the Guard seemed content to that path. They had surrendered whatever Names they earned and titles they bore, and the sanctity of their own privacy to become the Eldking’s own servants. They belonged to him. They kept him alive.Bryan shuddered as he followed their gold-cloaked backs.The ship had a quality, a sort of overmind, that was like water rushing over stones. It caressed and soothed. It agitated until aggression was all you could think of. The subconscious was filled by a thousand surrogate selves. The Lowmind was overwhelmed by it; they could submerge in the pleasure of instinct and desire and never come up for air. The Brightminds could control the overmind, slip into the thoughts of another being like a hand into a glove. The Highminds were the beings lost between; too resilient to wallow in a mire of subconscious revelry, too weak to fight off the imposed commands of a greater mind. Bryan had hated it before, and he despised it now. It wanted to envelop him, consume him whole.It’d been easier to stay out of the Cold Faction’s overmind. The deep division did not welcome newcomers, and their inward war helped him stay aloof. But here things were placid, as near to peace as Overseers ever came. The soothing hand of Shipsoul was even visible, keeping disagreements at a low boil, soothing the unquiet mind. He had belonged here once before. He could lie here and never rise again. Being conscious of it dispelled the overmind’s hold. He listened to it consciously, letting its attraction pale.-fresh parts--new wings for hull design--hunger satisfied. Pity. Good human good worker-He swallowed against that last thought. Somewhere in this ship were many humans, their minds mute and silent, their eyes too weak to see in the corridors of the Homeship. This population would wane as time progressed, sacrificed to sate the hunger of creatures they saw as monsters. The Overseer could live only by consuming those beneath him.And Adrienne Parker was here, among them. If he surrendered to the overmind, she would die.There were no doors in the corridors now, save those that lead to labs and private quarters. Airlocks weren’t installed this deep. Individual rooms could be sealed, but this was the ship’s very heart. If that were wounded, the ship itself was lost. Humans would have installed airlocks, he thought.He’d been with humans too long. Their light was blinding, the heat and dry air exhausting, and the hunger a constant reminder. But here the light was cool and illuminated, its burn restrained by bulb and membrane. The air was sweet to breathe. Decks vibrated underfoot, computers reached for any mind able to hear, and he could feel the promise of buds waiting to become true ship-parts, the irresistible promise of what they could become in his hands.The Overseer knew when to bare his throat and surrender.Humans did not have the Echo. They fought until they died.The light increased the deeper they walked, though it never became truly unbearable. Membranes rippled, the few plants that could live without light grew riot in peach-tinted light. Phosphorescent flowers bloomed amid the blinking organelles and harsh carapace forms. And they came to the final set of doors at last. Dark gemstones glittered in organic curves, a light dusting of gold shimmered on the upper ridges. Here was the entrance to the Eldking’s throne, the beating heart of the entire Overseer race.The Eldking’s own did not walk through these doors. They were a symbol of division. Only those apart from him, or those he had some grievance against, were made to use these outer doors.Bryan walked through them, head held high.
The light here was bright to the point of pain. The Eldking's throne room was not a comfortable place. The seat of power ran from darkened floor to shadowed ceiling. Rippling steps of black carapace were inset with lights. Rays of bright blue scattered at Bryan's feet. The Eldking himself looked smaller seated; great age pressed down onto his frame. He wore a cape of gold etched chain mail, enough to protect his back, his arms, his hands and feet, but intentionally left open to the front. His life was in the hands of his guards, and in the wits of his enemies. If you were smart enough and bright enough to avoid his probing thought, strong-willed enough to bring your weapon to bear, skilled enough to avoid his guards and his own attempt on your life, you had earned the right to kill him. No one ever had. The guard brought Bryan into the Eldking’s view, and the Brightest mind reached out to all like a golden sun. Bright thoughts burned against the safe darkness of privacy, erased it and filled the space left behind with the presence of another. In his presence you lost your very self within his tidal pull.Bryan dropped to his knees with the rest of the guard, only realizing the titanic pressure brought against him when the Eldking relented. -My own- There were overtones of great possession in this thought, as if Bryan were part of his body, an extension of his power. A possession, not a person. Bryan said nothing. Obedience, he could not deny. Response, though, that he could withhold.“We greet our heir,” the Eldking said, aloud. Hushed whispers were accompanied by an explosive sort of gloating among the younger minds present. There was some resentment that they had not been chosen as Bryan had. To become part of the Kind, to be converted by the Eldking himself…this was the greatest honor possible any human. And to be denied the soft mind-language of the Overseer, the nadziratelya, that was the worst insult imaginable. What a feast for the cruel-minded this moment must be.Bryan rose to his feet as if unbroken. He said nothing. He waited.I have no standing here, he thought. Humans did not understand how important that was. Reading the Echo. Knowing where your standing lay. That you could command him, that you must obey him, and that this one was your equal and, most likely, your rival—this was as critical to life as breathing. The cells knew their place in the body; the Overseer knew his place in the Kindred. And he knew when that place could be improved.There was room for a lot of improvement now.But I choose to be outside that. I am not a part of the Kind anymore. No force can make me kneel. -Truly?- The Eldking’s question was soft, gentle, like the kiss of mute light on closed lids. Gone, as soon as given, and heard by no other. Aloud, he continued. “You have returned to us on the eve of battle, one that was to be your ransom. Why?”His ransom? A war for an ungrateful heir? Why even bother? He started to ask this question aloud, but he caught a brief face in the Eldking’s mind. Pale, human, short brown hair, soft jaw, brown eyes, and an expression like steel…an impression that she belonged to Bryan. Damn. They didn’t just have her. They’d taken her on purpose. The Echo also worked on plans, and plots. His, it seemed, had just taken a major blow. It wasn’t over. He clung to this. He had not lost his chance yet. But the first move must be careful. He must not make his play from the heart. Not yet. For the first time Bryan met the Eldking’s eyes. He sat on the throne, hands wound into yellow-gold circuitry. From here he controlled the Homeship entire; it was almost an extension of his person. The smaller chair beside him was empty. His companion wasn’t there.He spoke the first thing on his mind that was not Adrienne Parker.“I would speak for the world,” Bryan said. “The Cold Faction seeks to violate your law and take another human world for its own. Without—” he paused. Damn. What would the Eldking care about? Mercy for humans, protection of the innocent, justice, these things did not matter to the Kind. They thought only of the sweet taste of human lives when taken at the rise of hunger. “—without thought for the preservation of supply. Or—” he fumbled, desperate. What could possibly persuade these monsters?“—Or thought for the children of blood.” A new voice rang out. Bryan turned sharply as a figure stepped into view. This had once been a human female, and she had chosen to retain her femininity long after gender became irrelevant. Her mind was bright, surface thoughts unspoiled by instinctive hungers...but it also had a softness, a discrete comfort. It was not so penetrating as the others. She had found her place and her strength, and she was willing to let the others be. Shipsoul was her title. Bryan would have called her Advocate.She wheeled on their leader. “They have not asked of our own plans, nor given us time to save what we can. There was sense in surrendering the planet for your heir, but you have him now. There is no reason to turn our future over to the Cold Faction's beasts. Don’t cost us this.”Her words echoed, as Overseer voices rarely did. Still harsh and hoarse, passion gave her volume. Even, he supposed, beauty. And yet there was something stale in her argument’s reception. The Echo was confused…but…had he stepped into an old argument? Yes. Yes, he was sure he had. He didn’t understand the first thing about it, but he sensed understanding wouldn’t matter.“Does the human fleet know of us?” The Eldking turned on Bryan.Damn again. Now he had to lie without actually thinking of a lie…or betraying Bob and Holton Fleet. Golden Dragon had a fleet visible from here. He’d even caught a glimpse of it in the Resistance offices during his time with them. Because the government placated the Overseer forces, this fleet was mostly small, untrained boys with large toys, not men who knew war. He thought of them, and of the Resistance, and then of Adrienne’s face, and then of nothing at all.It is harder to lie with the mind. He couldn’t even hold his breath in anticipation.“Perhaps,” The Eldking answered his own question. “Or perhaps not. Your attempts at prevarication are only partially successful, child. Perhaps we should try this later. After you have put your hunger to rest.” The command echoed through all minds present: bring food.This had been coming all along. But perhaps the offered would not be…unbearable. At best, it would be someone already fed upon, drained of personality and living only by the thinnest definition of the word. Still murder, but it would not be his hand that ended the life. There was a whisper as the witnesses parted. He knew they had brought her long before she was dragged into the light.Nothing in this life would ever be easy.Adrienne. Limp and unconscious in the arms of a Lowmind. He growled as they came near. This one had remembered nearly all of its old life—a rarity with one so ridden by instinct—and it clung restlessly to the bad parts. He prayed they were old fantasies. Surely it had put no human woman through that. Surely even this  creature had once lived with limitations. Surely the Eldking would destroy any monster actually guilty of those crimes. It met his eyes, and then it thought of Adrienne. Fed upon, lank hair dangling over a slave’s dead eyes. And then dead, a body of paper skin on bone, her blood streaming off skin. It dropped her in an unceremonious heap at Bryan’s feet and returned to the shadows. The hunger those thoughts had awakened within him was almost overwhelming. “Slake the thirst that burns within you, and we shall speak of your future.” The Eldking stood and began to walk down the long steps to the floor. He took her into his arms gently. There were no bruises on her temple, her breath came slow and regular, and the soft, bird like flutter of her mind—too indistinct for him to understand, all emotion and impression and fleeting like frost on glass—did not feel drugged. He was touching her, and it was more than he'd ever dared hope for.-What if I refuse?- the thought spilled from his mind unbidden. The Eldking glared down, then shrugged.- Starve, then. But it is best for her that she die.- 

Cerulian Sins chapter 9

So. Anita and Musette are about to get into it. And it's going to be as nasty drag out fight, right? In which Anita scrapes by via the skin of her teeth and/or gets her ass handed to her, thus implying that the final boss battle at the end of the book will be actual danger to her, and we will all enjoy this emensely, right?

Phhhft, what book were you reading.

At the risk of ruining the entire fight AKA one-sided massacre, the trickiest thing in writing is getting the rhythem right. Making sure that something interesting happens at the right moment, and that your lulls in the action are being used correctly to advance character interaction and the reader's knowledge base. *inhales.* The SECOND hardest thing to do is to write it in a way that makes the main character be at risk for most of the book.

That's important. Your main character ought to be a part of resolving MOST major incidents, they should be the primary when the climax is resolved, and they should be on the recieving end of a hell of a lot of danger, otherwise why the fuck are they the main character? I've found this to be rather problematic when writing girls in both senses of the word--the "fuck is this hard" part of writing and the "fuck I don't want to offend people" part--but it's not something you can avoid. The main character has to be in danger, and the main character has to be capable of resolving things only after a great struggle, because if it is easy we won't be half as interested. Thus, I spend a lot of time trying to make sure that my girls aren't being rescued, or if they are being rescued they are an equal party participant in said rescue.

Laurel K. Hamilton? She kind of has the opposite problem.

MUSETTE MADE NO move to protect herself. Angelito stayed with the other men across the room. It was as if neither of them saw me as a threat. You’d think with my reputation, vampires would stop underestimating me. But dead or alive, there are always fools.

You also need to spend a lot of time making sure that your bad guys aren't morons. Or if they are supposed to be morons, that they are overpowered morons who can compensate for their own stupidity.

That is not the case here. Musette is openly watching Anita because this show of torturing Asher is all for her--and not, you know, his lover of uncountable centuries who already has a major guilt complex--and she does not do one goddamned thing when Anita rushes her, yanks the knife out of Asher and uses it to pin Musette to the floor through her stomach.

Anita's idea of diplomacy. The woman is a raging lunatic.

And then the shape shifters show up. A lot of them. One of them is a wererat, heyenas are implied to be involved, wolves are mentioned but we don't have whining about Richard so either they're not there or he sent his own people on without him.

the were-rat Bobby Lee asks Anita if she plans on killing Musette. Anita does not, so he suggest she might want to let Musette get up before the knife in her stomach does anything serious. Anita says she will, as soon as she's done.

Belle Morte takes over Musette's body. She starts lecturing Jean Claude for neglecting Anita's vampire servant education, and Jean Claude replies like so:

“Musette overstepped the bounds for a visitor to my lands. You would not tolerate such treatment of one of your own people. I have learned well the lessons you taught me, Belle Morte...“Tolerate nothing... I admit that I forgot this in the rush of fear that Musette brought with her. The thought of insulting you, even indirectly was unthinkable, but I am no longer your creature. I am a Master of the City now. I am my own creature, and Asher is mine now. I will be what you brought me up to be, Belle, I will truly be your child. I will let ma petite be as ruthless as she likes, and Musette will either learn better manners, or she will not be coming home to you ever again.”

Yes, sports fans. Anita going rabid watchdog on Musette's ass has magically caused Jean Claude to grow a spine.

 Belle Morte and Jean Claude exchange their fuck yous for a few minutes, mostly involving Asher and how torn up Jean Claude was over what happened to Asher, and how Belle Morte has no sincere fucks to give

And of course, it all centers around fucking.

You know, Frost Bitten was an ungodly train wreck of a book but at least the shoe-horned in vamp politics weren't something that could be solved by a bottle of KY jelly and a condom.

And then Belle turns on Anita, because of course everything is Anita. Everything has to revolve around Anita. Otherwise Anita is, you know, just a character in a book that is actually likable. 

 Instead of actually developing the characters, we get a long lecture about love and about how very attached Asher and Jean Claude are to each other and how Bella Morte doesn't get love at all, and I'd buy it for more than two nanoseconds if Anita had not been keeping Asher out of JC's bed when she knew goddamn well that the two of them loved each other completely and that she was screwing everything with a pulse back at her own place. Hypocratsy, thou art short, curvy and in desperate need of incarceration (involuntary commitment at the least)

Belle Morte drags Anita's mind into a memory where Belle Morte is revealed to be pretty. Given that "Being in Belle Morte's Bed is the BEST THING EVAR!1!1One!" has been the theme of this chapter I think we kind of guessed that.

Belle Morte then tries to rise the Ardeur in Anita. She resists. Finally, Belle retreats, Musette collapses, and everybody decides they've had enough and heads off into their bedrooms.

End of chapter.

Cerulian Sins--chapter 8

Business first! Just in case you haven't done it already remember to grab a copy of Starbleached and Planet Bob while their coupons are still good!

You know, I really wish these chapters had been done by a different author, because holy hell, Musette has a great intro for a villain. She is giving Jean Claude and Asher presents that directly relate to the worst time in both their lives--when Asher and Juliana were kidnapped and tortured by the inquisition. That's how Asher got scarred up. They dribbled holy water down the entire right side of his body.--and forcing them to literally relive those memories while accepting her presents with a smile on their faces and some semblance of gratitude.

Basically, she's the kind of sadist you'd like to punt into the nearest viper pit and then forget about.

In the opening of this chapter she keeps asking Asher to come admire his gift--this being a painting of him immediately after his torture--and he tells her he gets the point, now please fuck off as politely as he possibly can. Musette then asks for her "guest gifts" which aren't ready because she's three months early.

At which point the book stops being good and starts being the Anita Blake show. Again.

I found my voice, and it wasn’t bland. “How dare you come here three months early, knowing we won’t be prepared and make demands on us?” Damian was clinging to my back a little frantically, but I was polite, for me. After what she and Belle Morte had just done, I was downright kind. “Your rudeness, will not be used as an excuse to force us to do anything we don’t want to do.”

Seriously? SERIOUSLY? This is how you react to the dangerous crazy lady that your master vampire boyfriend is shitting himself over? That you have to be nice to because she is Bella Morte's direct representative? Admittedly I think some kind of gauntlet needs to be thrown, but for fuck's sake, there ought to be a velvet glove involved in there somewhere. The whole point of going off on this kind of person is to do it in a way that they can't take offense at--and to be really obvious about it. Musette is showing you how to play the game, Anita baby.

And then...uh...

I opened my mouth to call her a heartless bitch, but it wasn’t what came out. “Did you believe that gifts worthy of such beauty could be hurried? Would you really take some poor substitute in the place of the magnificence we had commissioned?”

That reads like somebody else (with two brain cells to rub together) took over Anita's mind and used her like a muppet, but everybody reacts like it came from Anita and there is no bitching about somebody taking over her mind and/or her slapping the living crap out of whoever did it, so LKH legitimately expects us to believe the same person who said the first quote also said the second.  I seriously believe that either LKH intended to remove the first quote or she forgot a couple sentences that ought to be attached to the second.

Jean Claude then flatters Musette,who basically asks if Anita isn't a beauty to rival hers, and Anita and everybody reading the book both go "Fuck the what now?" and the book just soldiers on because LKH needs a paycheck.

Anita says something about how being with the "otherworldly triplets" makes her look pretty plain and I assume she's talking about Asher, Jean Claude and either Damian or Musette. My money is on Damian. Musette asks if Anita is including Asher in the trio because he's scarred and that equals ugly in her book. Anita says she considers him to be gorgeous. Musette says Anita's lying but she isn't, and that tells Anita that unlike most vampires, Musette can be lied to.

Plot point achieved, the conversation descends further. Musette logics her way into choosing Asher as her "guest gift". She also wonders loudly why Asher left Bella Morte.

To recap what actually happened, Asher and a couple other folks came to St. Louis to challenge Jean Claude before his power base was in play. Asher wanted revenge because Jean Claude abandoned him and Juliana to the Inquisition and he's kind of miffed about that. During the actual confrontation Anita literally kissed Asher into submission and he decided that he'd gotten his whatever, the confrontation was off and he'd like to stay in St. Louie thank you very much. Also, once he got scarred he was pretty much persona non grata in Bella Morte's court, so St. Louis is much better than wherever it is the vamps are.

This segues into a question about wheither or not Jean Claude and Asher are having sex.

They aren't because Anita wouldn't like that, and Jean Claude always does what Anita wants. Seriously. Anita is literally one third of what's keeping him in power and if he loses her he probably dies. The book tries to play it off as actual loyalty but that's the real political math on that.

 Asher says, basically, "Life is better here, and I don't want to go back."

Musette then shoves the chapter off the deep end.

Musette swayed her way back to stand in front of Asher. “To be least among her court is better than ruling anywhere else.”

 I couldn’t help myself. “Are you saying it’s better to serve in Heaven than rule in Hell?” 

She nodded, smiling, seemingly oblivious to the literary allusion. “Oui, precisement. Our mistress is the sun, the moon, the all. To be parted from her, only that is true death.”

And just in case we don't get the subtle "this person treats Bella as God" she is compared to televangelists and holy rollers, and then her fanaticism is spelled out for us in triplicate. Let's make sure we get this, folks: MUSETTE IS OBSESSED WITH BELLA MORTE.

Anita then steps back into the conversation, confusingly stupid filler is thrown in when Anita objects to being called "Servant" instead of a name and Musette gets all flustered, and then Musette tricks Anita into saying flat out that Asher is not sleeping with either Jean Claude or Anita, which means he is fair game and she breaks the knives out.

Right then and there. She begins stabbing Asher over and over with a non-silver knife while Anita gets to stand there and feel all guilty for not letting Jean Claude sleep with somebody he's loved for centuries.

Sometimes reading this book makes me feel like I've dropped really bad acid.

Everybody's holding Anita back because they have to let this happen. Not letting Musette do whatever she wants will create war between St. Louis and Bella Morte. The chapter ends with Anita saying "Fuck that noise" and going at Musette anyway.

STARBLEACHED updates!

I think we're getting close to That Time here, folks. One more edit through and I hand things over to my proofreader (AKA Mom) and we start work on the cover.

And because it is time for us to drum up a little interest and enthusiasm, it is COUPON time!

I cannot emphasize how awesome Smashwords is. Other than DA, they're the retailer who offers the best author cut, they do a ton of work distributing things to other sellers so I don't have to. They deal with Apple so I don't have to, ect. ect. So if you don't have an account there, go get one.  Probably the awesomest part is, for those of you who hate the idea of putting your credit card information out there, they let you pay via Pay Pal. So you don't actually have to stress about that.

Now: promotional stuff.

Starbleached is free, and you have no idea how much that hurts. That's still my best book so far IMHO. Use this coupon: RB36X

Planet Bob is in on the action, too. Half off! Yep. 50% off. Planet Bob is now one dollar.  Basically it's two books for half price if you grab 'em both. Coupon is WN73R

Both coupons are good until April 10th. That's more than a week after Overseer's Own drops.

And last but not least, in a totally non-related update...Silver Bullet is now on smashwords. AND IT IS FREE TOO. FOREVER. NO COUPON. YOU CAN JUST DOWNLOAD THE BOOK. 

So there. BOOKS. GO BUY BOOKS.

Cerulian Sins chapter 7

So we meet Musette, who is indeed blond...and pretty, and tiny, and who is HEAVILY implied to be a pedophile due to her pomme de sang having no fang marks on her neck.

Musette also has a male companion, and...uh...

His skin was as dark as skin that hadn’t seen much sun in centuries could be. I was betting he tanned with very little effort. He just hadn’t had much opportunity to catch any rays. His eyes were an odd blue green, aqua, like the waters of the Caribbean. They were startling in his dark face and should have added warmth and beauty. But they were cold. He should have been handsome, but he wasn’t, the sour expression on his face stole all that.

In the case of the first bolded thing...YEAH. No. I do not think white ethnic backgrounds work that way.

In the case of the second...commas have died for this book. Whole flocks of them. Weep. Weep for the commas.

Everybody sits down. LKH makes sure we know who is graceful and who isn't, and that later is basically Anita. Musette and Jean Claude talk in French long enough for Musette's willingness to offend Anita to be established, and then she starts speaking in "heavily accented"English.

THANK GOD LKH is not a phonetic accent writer. I'd probably have a conniption if she were.

She starts poking Damian with a short stick, AKA questioning him about his old mistress. Abuse is heavily implied, of course, and Anita finally tells Musette to knock it off. Musette then turns on Anita. Because, you know, this is all about Anita.

 Jean Claude formally introduces Anita as his servant.

Musette reminds him of Juliana, the woman that he and Asher were both head over heels for, and then Musette calls both Anita and Juliana "common" and "peasant stock" and Anita is all like "Can't be offended. That's my family, right there." Okay, I now hate Musette because she's rude and I like Anita a little bit. That's pretty good writing there.

Next paragraph?

“Why would you be proud of that?” “Because everything we’ve gotten, we’ve made with our two hands, the sweat of our brows, that kind of thing. We’ve had to work for everything we have. No one has ever given us anything.”

Way to shoot yourself in the foot, hon. We got it the first time. You don't need to feed it to us with a spoon here.

Musette doesn't get it, and finally dismisses it as being unimportant because she can't understand.

Does a phantom blond piss in LKH's cheerios every morning? I'm just curious. The last villian I read who was this ham fisted was Nicolae Carpathia and he was the fucking Antichrist.

And then Musette reveals that she has brought Jean Claude a present. It's a painting of Asher and Jean Claude cosplaying as Cupid and Psyche back when Asher wasn't all scarred up. She then gives Asher a painting of himself freshly scarred and ugly, because this kind of emotional penny ante shit is exactly what an evil vampire would do.

And in all of this emotional sadism, who becomes the most upset? Anita. How does Anita react to watching two people she cares about be reminded of the worst moment of their lives?

OF COURSE SHE DOES.

And naturally, that's the end of the chapter.

Cerulean sins--chapter 5

I am glad to report that I am almost done with the developmental editing for Overseer's Own, AKA Starbleached pt 3. Bryan preforms admirably, I can assure you, and if I do not get at least one "Fuck you" from the comments re: the ending I will know I have failed as a writer. Cliffhanger this most definately is.

Also, I want to do a shout out for my little brother. He's got me doing the artwork for the Sleeping Samurai's t shirts. They are having a get-together sometime next weekend in Houston, I think, and there is much to love if you are a swordwork kind of person. I think. IDK my knowledge of swords begins and ends with "Pointy end goes in the other guy." Anyhoo, I think what they are doing is tres cool and I'd like to share.

Ok. Shitty book time.

We get a long paragraph about how Jean Claude has Better Homes and Gardened his bedroom. There are gauzy hangings and gold and white tapestries, and I have to say you must have your head stuck firmly up your ass to drape your cave in gold and silver fabric. Also, JC has still not figured out how stupid thigh-high leather boots are, especially when paired with leather pants. I am sorry, Jean Claude, but you are still not Jareth the Goblin King.

Also, tonight Jean Claude is wearing a Navy Blue ruffled shirt, because somehow that is less insane, and this sentence is an actual pubished thing:

His face was as always flawless, breathtaking. It was, as always, like some wet dream come to life, too beautiful to be real, too sensuous to be safe.

Yeah, but I bet dildos are still cheaper.

And then we get a recap on the ardeur.

For those of you just tuning in, the ardeur is Anita Blake's sex vampirism. It now has a time clock. Anita must "feed" via sex every twelve hours, or she literally jumps the nearest penis. And she didn't bother feeding tonight because Plot. Seriously, if you work nights and you have multiple live-in lovers, wouldn't you make sure you ate before you went to the job?

(Serious question, given that I've spent the last month living in Bryan Landry's head. If you know you have to feed off  the breakable-yet-important people in your life, a responsible person feeds off the breakables when they are safe and near some form of medical attention and/or food and comfort. It is part of choosing to live with yourself when you become a blood sucker. Unless you're a naturally bad person, in which case you need to stop being the protagonist of the books)

*sighs*

also, and I tried to avoid bringing this up, given that I have ten fucking days to edit and proofread Overseer's Own before it drops...but fuck me, LKH needs real editing.

 Unfortunately, we had big bad vampires in the next room, and I didn’t think they’d wait while we had hot monkey sex. Call it a hunch, but I suspected Musette would be sympathetic.

I am willing to bet book royalty money there is a word missing in that sentence. And I don't have much of that to spare.  Also...I am tired of the phrase "as if". The current permutation is, "as if rain could have a flavor." Rain does have a flavor. It's that smell. Seriously, "as if" is one of those filter words that acutally means the writer is scared to commit to something. Seemed is another one. Revise accordingly,

We repeat yet again: Damian is Anita's vampire servant/slave. Which we covered last chapter. I'd say SKIM, but then we find out the true temper of Anita's character:

How did I know what would happen if I denied Damian? Because I hadn’t known he was my vampire servant for the first six months after it had happened. He had gone mad, and he had slaughtered innocents.

NO. If you are a good person, and somebody is killing innocent people? Your role in this becomes immateral. You make the bad person go away permanently, and then you deal with your own guilt. KILLING INNOCENTS IS NOT A GOOD THING AND IT SHOULD NOT BE TREATED AS A CASUAL ASIDE.

LKH is so fucked up, Yo.

Something happens involving Damian, but it's not too clear what it is. All I know is, it stuns both Anita and Jean Claude.

The chapter ends with Anita being led in on both Jean Claude and Damian's arms, and Anita complaining that she can't reach for her gun.

Cerulian Sins--chapter 4-5

Okay. Officially? no more health updates until things get better or worse. Because otherwise I will KEEP ON TALKING about how fucked my inner ears are right now. Instead, I will show off a bit.

I will forward this with YES I AM EDITING MY BRAIN OUT. This is what I've been doing while my brain is cooling down from being that picky over which word to use. Those of you who have read Starbleached will know exactly what this is.


Probably the best part of this picture is, it's the first new pallate I've mixed in a couple of years. I love art. I love colors, I FUCKING LOVE this whole purple and green thing, and the upper right hand corner is what happens when you give me Photoshop and a brand new brush set. When I am done here I will probably edit another twenty pages and then paint until my brain falls out. And then sketch the cover because This Is Not That.

What is interesting is I HATED this when I left this afternoon. After eight hours (...and a beer)? I love it. Welcome to Dorofey, boys and girls. Let's not live here.

Also: Earlier I ranted about not having Starbleached themed music, which is kind of weird I know. Well...I kind of use music to make myself start thinking in terms of story. Exiles has this massively long soundtrack that has the same starting music (Bitter Tree, by David Baerwald) and a song or two for each scene in the Novel that Will Never Die AKA The Book, and when I was editing The Book I'd jump to that song or two and be instantly in the mood to work on it, because I'd conditioned myself to work with that music. I haven't gotten that with Starbleached yet.

Also, for all of you who have ever waited tables:



You now have a theme song. You're welcome.


Right. Anita Blake.

So apparently Asher screams "Vampire" and not "Weird gay goth dude" because everybody pulled guns when he showed up. Also: this AU St. Louis has the worst bodyguards EVER. You'd think they'd be able to see a dead guy sneaking up on them, but I guess not.

Anyhoo, Anita is all like "Friend" and everybody else is like "He's no friend of ours!" and I'm all like "POINT PLEASE" which we apparently get to quickly enough. Something has Asher freaked out enough to forget about English and the whole undead superpowers thing, and he appeared because Emergency.

So apparently we are four chapters in before the actual story starts.

...You know why Starbleached is my play in non linear storytelling? It ain't because I wanted to be clever. I knew that if I didn't do the whole then/now thing, we wouldn't get to Dorofey until halfway through the fucking book, and much as I love watching Bry and Adry be together I knew that wouldn't be very interesting (It also would have meant a lot more Mich, and I don't like Mich much). In other words, Writer-readers: START THE FUCKING BOOK WHERE THE FUCKING STORY STARTS TOO. Your readers are smart. They'll catch up.

Anyway. Asher. The cops calm down and we are left with Nichols, one of the bodyguards for the insurance guys.

Writing fail part the second: Characters. I love characters. I love sticking a bunch of characters into one room and watching what falls out, especially if it's body parts. But characters should work like a restuarant; a significant turnover is allowed, but not desirable. (...yes, we HAVE entered a significant hiring phase at my workplace. Why do you ask?) Hiring new people requires training, introductions to the regulars and a significant amount of breakage while you learn how to balance four salad plates on two hands. New characters require introductions, you have to overcome that "I don't give a shit" attitude on the part of the reader (we all have that) and then you have to prove that Newbie A has the chops to stand up against the veteren character who knows how to survive the author's favorite plot bunnies. The fact that Nichols is getting a fair amount of face time seems to be indicating that he's going to be a major character, and I don't like him much. Possibly because Anita seems to like him and she was joking with the cops a few minutes ago about how a possible suicide was justified because the wife was being a little upset. The reason why Nichols is writer fail and not just an iffy character is...why couldn't this character be Dolph or Zerbowski? Or one of the other nine million goodguy cops introduced over the course of this series? If one character can fulfill a certain role and you find you have that role in an upcoming story use that character in the fucking role. DO NOT REINVENT THE WHEEL HERE is what I am saying.

(and once more I am reminded that I have three characters filling the same goddamned role in Exiles and I have NO idea how I'm going to fix it. My house is made of glass, folks.)

Right. Shitty book.

So Nichols asks what the rush is and Asher says this:

“Musette has been gravely injured. I came to take Anita to her side.”

My reaction is "fuck the what now?" but Anita's is more "OH FUCK WHAT NOW" and apparently Musette is Bella Morte's emmisary who is due in several months but who has decided to show up now. And Musette is apparently a very bad lady because Anita is now worried about her people getting hurt by Musette. She asks for permission to leave, gets it, we get an info dump on how bad Musette is, and I have to ask the other anti-fans, has Musette appeared in ANY OTHER BOOK before now? I swear to fucking GOD I do not remember this chick appearing before, but it reads as if this is a recurring character and I am tres confused here, folks.

And then we move on to how pretty Asher is. Because the men must be established as being very pretty. And I have to say it, kids, for all the emphasis we put on eyes? They're not that important. Oh, don't get me wrong. They are very important in a visual medium, because we recognise faces from the top down. But this is not a visible medium. You are allowed one adjective per eye. Blue. Green. Hazel. Brown. And if (and only if) they are non human you are allowed gold or silver or magenta. But this?

The one eye that was visible was a clear, pale blue like the eyes of a Siberian husky dog. Human beings just didn’t have eyes like that.

I lost interest in his pretty eyes at "Siberian".

(FYI I am auditioning all the music I scrubbed from the Exiles soundtrack four years ago. Minds Eye by Sirena has just become part of Starbleached permanent playlist. I am sure you all wanted to know)

So Anita and Asher get into her car and start freaking out about how Musette has arrived, and how Musette has brought people with her and OH FUCK  I remember what exactly she brought with her. OH FUCK. OH FUCK GUYS, I HAD BLOCKED THAT FROM MY MEMORY COMPLETELY.

French words are used to make Musette seem magically special, but to cut through the bullshit she's officially Bella's ambassidor and hurting her hurts Bella because that's how ambassidors work. Anita wants to tell Bella to get fucked due to Musette being rude. Asher says this is a bad thing because Bella is the fountainhead for their bloodline and this is less a political play and more Mom dropping by unannounced to make sure your weed stash hasn't migrated from your bed to your cookie jar.

Anita says she doesn't get it. Asher says she has never known a king or a queen as a rular, of course she won't get it. Anita says they can't afford to let Bella think they are small fish and Asher says "DUH THAT IS WHAT WE ARE" and then the chapter ends.

Next chapter: Anita does not like being thought of as little fish.

IS THERE A REASON WHY LKH IS THIS COMFORTABLE LETTING HER UNCONSIOUS OUT? I mean, DAMN GIRL, I know writing is a good way to work through your issues, but you didn't have to share like this, you know?

Meanwhile Anita does the first smart thing she's done in two books and calls everybody who isn't a vampire to let them know the bad guys have dropped by. Thanks for that.

And then...oh, brace yourself boys and girls:

I let Asher leave the message on Richard’s machine, sometimes he erased messages from me without listening to them. It depended on how bad a mood he was in that day. Though he’d dumped me, not the other way around, he acted like the wounded party and blamed me for everything.

Anita. Honey. Baby. YOU RAPED HIM. Did you get amnesia fighting Chimera or something? YOU fed on HIM when he had fucking clearly fucking told you fucking no. And just because the American legal system does not define forced envelopment as rape the way it does forced penetration, IT IS STILL FUCKING RAPE.

And hey, you know what else that paragraph tells me? YOU ARE CALLING HIM MORE THAN YOU NEED TO. You are now officially that scary stalker girlfriend. Congrats. And yes. He is the wounded party. You raped him.Grow the fuck up.

 They park at the circus, and Asher reveals that he has issues with Musette:

He shook his head. “You must know. Anita, Jean-Claude didn’t send me to you because I travel faster than anyone else. He sent me to get me away from her.”

Can we JUST FUCKING ONCE have a bad guy who isn't a sexual predator? It's fun when it's your big bad and you build up to it, but when it's every single day you start hoping for terrorists and home grown militia crazies. There are a lot of sexual predators in the universe, kids, but this is like rolling sevens every single time.

 Damian shows up. He has red hair and green eyes. This information is delivered with enough adjectives to make a christmas tree look restrained. Damian is Anita's vampire servant. I had forgotten this. She accidentally mind raped him into a permanent psychic tie. They have to touch because...thin justification? I can't say "plot" because that has nothing to do with this. We get a long description of how much Anita's fingers hurt from all the finger pricking she's done lately.

YOU RAISED ONE ZOMBIE. ONE. IF YOU ARE RAISING ONE ZOMBIE A NIGHT YOU SHOULD HAVE ENOUGH TIME TO HEAL BETWEEN PIN PRICKS. IF YOU ARE RAISING MORE YOU SHOULD STOP USING YOUR FINGERS. 

 Jason shows up. He's the werewolf.

Jason mentions that Musette has offered to share her pomme de sang aka regular meal with Jean Claude if Jean Claude will share Jason with Musette.

Musette is blond, isn't she?

And then Jason drops this fun little bombshell:

Jason’s grin faded. “Her pomme de sang is illegal in this country, so Jean-Claude had to decline.” 

“Illegal,” I said, “in what way?” 

He sighed, looking decidedly unhappy. “The girl can’t be more than fifteen.”

You know, at least Kitto wasn't a fucking human being. Yep, we've got another minor in this game, and this time I can't even call them a fake. Musette apparently likes to take blood from kids, and she's brought a couple child-vampires with her as well as the kid she's using as a blood bag. Anita is all shocked and shamed.

Did you know that Caressed by Twilight was written before this book? So Kitto predates Musette and her child entorage? Did you want to know this? Because I sure as fuck did not.

Anyway, this is a poltical move because Anita will be justified in killing Musette the second her fangs touch underage skin. Except she can't because Plot, and the politics here are wheels within wheels of stupid.

And then they have an aside about how Damian is helping Anita keep herself under control and they should bolt the two of them together for the duration of the meeting. Nice. Anita can't control herself without the presence of a man.

And they said this series promoted an independant female.

And that's pretty much it until the end of the chapter. "Musette is dangerous and we can't kill her" followed up by "Damian, it's your job to keep Anita from killing her," repeated over and over until a random conversation about stripping and handcuffs with Jason.

I already hate this book.