Well! It’s more than halfway through the year and I am nowhere near where I wanted to be in terms of deadlines. So! I got to rearrange my cork-board and took a great deal of time deciding what project was going to come after Persona — because yes, I am still working on that one.
The re-writes for Persona’s ending have been challenging. I am stepping outside of my comfort zone and delving into far darker territory than I am used to. However, in reviewing the outlines and watching it progress I can honestly say it is a far better book now (even in its incomplete form) than it was when I started.
Because the mood has been so dark, I have been working on Usurper on the side. Trenna and company always tend to make me laugh, so it’s been a nice counter-balance. That said, with Camp NaNoWriMo having officially started, I’ve decided to use the month of July and the Camp as a means to try and push Persona over the finish line.
This means my cork-board has to be re-arranged and Usurper will be left to the side until August. I only have a little left on Usurper anyway, so this should work out just fine.
Super fun things!
For the first time ever, I’m going to submit one of my novels into the Epic Award Contest. I might actually submit both Deviation and Tapped, since you’re apparently allowed to do that. We’ll see, though.
And now … in celebration of the 4th of July … Here’s some free content straight out of the pages of Usurper …
Brigetta tilted the bowl over with one finger, barely listening to the fight in the corner. A gooey, glumpy substance filled the bowl, looking oddly doughy. She wasn’t a cook, but Bree would bet someone had been trying to cook something before they were called away. By process of elimination, she determined either the General Herself had been attempting the feat, or the woman’s daughter was to blame for the culinary catastrophe before her.
A body crashed into the table, sending it scooting across the room toward the open hearth. Bree had just enough time to withdraw her hand before Faxon threw two blades at the ill-fated Eldur man. An instant later she heard the small daggers hit their marks and suppressed a shudder. The meaty, visceral sound of a blade sinking into skin wasn’t something she thought she could ever get used to.
The Eldur blood in the air was a welcome distraction. She felt the slowly dying beats of their assailants heart strum against her skin as magic was released from the man. Like glistening sand in the sun it hovered in the air, waiting. Magic knew what she could do with it, that it had been summoned for a purpose, she only needed to give it the command. What she was about to do, however, was far more dangerous than she cared to admit.
Faxon moved to retrieve his blades, nodding to her as he crossed the room. “Now or never, Bree.”
Sighing, she closed her eyes and focused. With one hand she beckoned the magic closer, pulling it toward her face, toward her eyes. Reciting the commands first in her mind and then out loud, Brigetta automatically translated the language inherent to all Eldur. The language of the high born nobles, whose bloodlines traced back to the first Eldur King; a language seldom taught anymore; the gremoth. Many of the high born knew of it, but not how to speak it. Only the Blood Mages had kept it intact, guarding the words in a jealous attempt to maintain some sort of power in Dyngannon.
“Caraloomessa act all et teh,” Bree repeated, wafting the magic still closer.
Warm light filtered past her eyelids, an odd tickling sensation running over her eyelashes, and then she traded her sight for the vision of a low-flying hawk. Magic itself picked which hawk. The odd twist to Blood Magic was that it often had its own ideas of what should be done. The magic in use only knew she’d wanted something in the air, something close by that could give her a clear view of the island, and it had accepted the price of her own vision for a time.
The only problem was that she wasn’t certain how long magic would keep her eyesight. She could be rendered blind for months if it so chose.
Shoving that worry firmly aside, Brigetta concentrated on the hawk’s vantage. It wasn’t far from the little cabin they were standing in, flying disconcertingly close to the treetops. Bree wavered and reached out for something to steady herself on. Faxon’s hand clasped her own and she felt him step closer. His body heat warmed her left side and she tried to relax.
Because she had only traded sight, the vision came with no sound. This made things even more disorienting, since she could still hear everything in the room, to include Faxon’s quiet breathing. Exhaling, Brigetta battled the weird sense of vertigo and focused more.
The bird turned in a wide circle, scanning the forest floor in search of food. Unfortunately for the hawk, its hunting grounds were being intruded upon. Bree counted Kaden, the Duke, the General, the Human boy named Troy and the reckless girl who had been in the tavern. The five of them were moving steadily toward the clearing that held their cabin, which confirmed for Brigetta that she’d chosen the right place.