Six Sentence Sunday: "Blacker Than Black"

For this week's six, a sneak-peek at Black, on the boulevard in the opening scene. A vampire just eased up to the curb in a snazzy little coupe, its glassy curves refracting the blue-lit glow from the buildings.

I soak up the sensation, willing the stranger not to move, or speak; I want to stay in this moment for a while.  To freeze this pristine instant of unrealized potential.  Before the vampire flaps his lips and makes an ass out of himself.  It happens every time, without fail, and every time I manage to conceal the sigh of disappointment and refrain from putting voice to whatever sarcastic comment pops in my head.

Silence, magical energy.  May it last, please, for just a little longer?

Like what you read and want the rest? Pre-order your copy of "Blacker Than Black" over here at Riptide.

Check out the rest of this week's Six-Sentence offerings, over here.

Foodporn With Jan: Oh, Yummy.

I'll admit I have no clue what I'm doing when I put the digital camera on "manual" -- one thing's for sure, the picture isn't too dark (auto setting in existing light) and doesn't have flash-flare, either.

Isn't that a yummy looking cup of coffee, with hand-whipped cream (spiked with Godiva chocolate liqueur) and cocoa and cinnamon sprinkled on top?

Mmm, yum, yes it is. *takes another sip*

Okay, back to editing. I swear for every page of corrections I do, I'm adding two pages of new content. Oh well. Means more story to read, yeah? The longer the better. No deep conversation is ever just two inches. Not the really good ones, anyways.

Oh, was that my out-loud voice? Oops. Godiva and I are really good friends, I'll blame him.

Jack and John O'Lantern

I will be the first to admit that I don't celebrate holidays with the same gusto or ... flair ... that many employ. I also hate carving pumpkins. Knives and I, we don't get on too well. Never mind the guts, and the gross rot thing that always happens. I love roasted pumpkin seeds more than the next person, but the mess just isn't really worth it...

Jack & John O'Lantern. They're just friends.

So this year I substituted with a couple plastic decorative pumpkins, which were indiscriminately attacked with a Sharpie marker.
Say hello to Jack and his slightly psychotic fiend--I mean friend--John.
Alas, they don't light up. Yet. I imagine with a drill and a nightlight, I can make some magic happen. Hey guys, you okay with me shoving lights up your butts?
...I'm getting flat stares.

WIP Wednesday: Dancing Circles

Randomly, from the chapter/scene I'm currently slaving my way through.

When it became obvious that he wouldn't relent so easily, Jaedyn lapsed back into his sporadic stream of banter. ::Back home....:: The texture of his posse twitched, fluttered, momentarily jagged edges and bristling barbs before smoothing out again. ::The foreman and his second told me something of the Idoloni.::

Jaedyn uttered 'second' but it wasn't just the word. Instead, Renji had a flash of this complex and beautiful thing, a thickly rooted solidarity, love running so deep and strong it would never change course. Obviously the arête had thoroughly addled Renji's brain; it took conscious effort to focus past the simple sensory pleasure of the consensus and on what the man was discussing, as Jaedyn explained what he'd been told. 

Six Sentence Sunday: Dark Edge of Honor

My very first 6-Sentence Sunday! Going to start off easy, with an excerpt from "Dark Edge of Honor" where Mike gets his first good look at Sergei. (He's such a perv.)

The deep baritone carried across the short distance, smooth and thick, so heavily accented that it took a few seconds of lag for Mike's brain to translate.
It was a pathetic excuse for a balcony--forget a lounge chair, the soldier barely had room to pace its measure, let alone turn around. The man studied the structure, bounced his weight back and forth in his widespread stance, arms folded.
Mother of gods, the man was built like a battle cruiser and easily topped six foot. The spread of his shoulders dwarfed the doorway at his back. There was no missing the strain of musculature beneath the dark fabric and blood-red pinstriped trousers as he shifted his weight, then twisted to glance back over his shoulder into the dark confines of the room behind him.

Read a full excerpt or get a copy of it from Carina Press, here.
Check out the slew of other writers that participate in 6-Sentence Sunday, over here!

One More Day

I've been rather quiet the past week, but there's a good reason, I swear there is! ...It's because I can't find much to say when all my energies are focused on writing. And that's where my mind has been, since Friday of last week. Writing. And...more writing.

My week-long vacation is coming to a close. I've enjoyed the generous downtime. So has my writing. And while I haven't churned out monumental word counts or anything, I expect the WIP will be sitting pretty at 50k when I head back to the doldrums of The Day Job tomorrow.

Sadly, I've no idea if that is supposed to be the halfway point, or what it is precisely. I'm refraining from sharing too many excerpts just now, since it's still in the formative "I don't even have a complete draft yet" stage. So, instead, I give you my muse.

This is Jaedyn Myfala. And... he has a neck fetish. Apparently.
It's a good thing he's so nice to look at, because he's going to be hanging around a while.

Which is fine. I am gleefully willing to throw him in the meat-grinder at every opportunity. His resilience is beautiful. Though he does glare at me a bit when I start lobbing curve balls at him.

And now I'm back off to the Writing Machine, to crank out the next scene. Have a good weekend, and stay tuned for my 6-Sentence Sunday post!

Saturday Snark: Another WIP Scene

"They will take away my freedom and lock me in the bowels of Ommat. Away from the sun and wind, the sky and turf. You would require this of me."

"Your insignis requires it." The venator, the same one that shook his had not a minute past, spoke up. His voice was flat, unyielding.

"Quiet." The matrem spoke the work softly but it was a whip all the same, and the venator flinched. "I did not give you leave to speak."

-from Dancing Circles, a work-in-progress.

Look What I Found!

Isn't that just the most gorgeous cover art ever? In the history of books?
Mind you, it isn't done yet. (Yeah that made me goggle a bit as well.)
Soon, though, very soon.

Also, Riptide's Launch Party is officially starting-- you can get the details over on Amara's Place. Here are the highlights:

(1) They're open for pre-orders. Yes, you can bounce on over there and purchase an ebook format of Blacker Than Black. Is that not awesome??

(2) They've publicized four open submission calls. Themed ones, but get this: they have short, novella and full-length classifications for each one, so whatever you might have, I'm sure it would fit. Go forth and polish those puppies.