but.. but.. I read crap, and trash, and books by hack writers.. I read for pleasure and enjoyment, and at some point, I read because it prolongs my life because I want to know what happens next. If I dont read something daily, I feel unsettled, as if there is something not quite right with the world. The books that last seem to be the ones that resonate with the readers, Dickens and Dumas wrote to pay the bills.

Well, there's crap and crap. I don't *like* thinking my stuff is all crap, but, yanno, when you're in the trench, that's all that you can smell, right? Heh. Some of my favorite Victorians where hacks.

Just dont make me read uplifting and moral books or something with deeper meanings...or something from Oprah's book club..

Ok, this is from probably one of the last two chapters of The Hand. Anyway, that's the plan. But it's crap and I'm mad at it. Watch some subtle romance in Prince Caspian yesterday and wanted to capture something similar. Erg...


She watched him. He stared in return.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“As though a herd of cows have tromped over my head. How are you?”

Ryslan’s lips cracked in a weak smile at her new humor. His shoulders were tense and he held his hands behind his back. A new sword shined on his left hip.

“Everything is fine. Thanks to you.” Ryslan moved to the edge of her bed, his hand hovering over the one at her side. “The Head of the Body is dead. The Queen has gone mad and has been sent to an asylum. And the kingdom is intact.”

“How long have I been asleep?” She tried to keep eye contact but her gaze kept wandering toward the hand so close to her own. Her chest tightened and a ball formed in the pit of her stomach. His fingers twitched.

“Almost three weeks. I was afraid we’d lost you. You were somewhere deep inside. Are you fully back with us?” His voice was as tight as his shoulders but he attempted to keep his tone detached.

“Yes. At least, I think so. I have not delved into my powers as of yet. I am afraid it will give me a headache.” Estith tried to return the smile but failed. Her head throbbed, her eyes burned and she was exhausted despite almost fifteen days of rest.

“Estith, there is some things I need to tell you-“

BTW- You are such a tease. ;p I really can't wait to read Turning the Tide. Have you decided if you are ending the series with this one or will you have more in the future? Because I really enjoy it and there are so many characters I want to hear more about. And so does sadieloree. I'll add her name too... maybe we can star a petition. ;)

My hope is that they will want more. i definitely have more stories to tell. TT is the most complex of the three in so much as things are starting to go critical and the players are having a hard time keeping the balls in the air. And I keep thinking, oh, I want to tell that story. Oh! He's cool! I need to tell his story . . . I need to get back to Sarah and Keros and . . . .

This is the last book on this contract and my agent is hopeful that Roc will want more. I like that each book seems to be so different from the last. I didn't plan for that, but discovering the story for each has made for very different narratives. Or so I think.

Well, if all else fails, short stories? Heehee... I hope they do. It's not like The Path series that had a definite ending. There is so much you can do with Crosspointe!!

Well that's just a sucky place to stop. Talk about a tease!

Di

Muwahaha!! Now you know what we all go through!! And the telling isn't for a few more sections, so much too long of a snippet. ;) And I don't want to give the ending away!!

Polo!

It sounds like you're feeling better. I hope that's the case.

Snippet?

“Now that we’re all here,” the Doctor began, “and I have confirmation of a few final details, it’s time to discuss the wheretofores of our journey.”
“Journey?” several people asked at once.
“Ah, yes. To retrieve my sister’s Aspect.”
Miss Quill jerked a thumb at Ardest.
“Isn’t that what he’s for?”
Tomás smiled.
“Mr. Ardest is a very accomplished Necromancer, yes, and a skilled Binder. But one cannot simply close one’s eyes and pick an Aspect out of the air.”
“So what, then?”
“As I said, we are going to go and find it.”
Ardest laughed.
“Very amusing, Doctor. What do you propose? That we wander around in the Inquinux?”
“Not at all.”
“I thought not.”
“Wandering around would be extremely dangerous. No, we are going in a vehicle; and with your assistance and that of her Eminence, we should be able to find Theodora swiftly and without incident.”
Even Ardest was gaping at the Doctor.
“You’re serious,” Evie blurted.
“Quite.”
“There’s no such--”
Tomás nodded.
“There is not, yet. However, if I’m not greatly mistaken, her Eminence carries with her an Aposta Zehlo reliquary.”
All eyes turned to Chapel, who glared at the floor.
“Is this true?” Daro Tzan asked.
“Yes, damn your eyes.”
“Very good,” Tomás said. “For the next stage of the operation, then, I will need the close assistance of her Eminence and young Miss Starlight.”
“For what?” Evie asked.
“We must prepare the vehicle.”
“And within what sort of ‘vehicle’ do you expect us to perform this magical feat?” Ardest demanded.
The Doctor’s smile was thin and tight.
“Why,” he said, “I believe you’re already familiar with the vehicle in question, my good fellow. We shall be traveling in the Manticore.”

A little bit of combat related romance for you.

“You were right about one thing, King,” I said quietly, making sure I had his attention. He turned to face me, his eyes narrowed as he took stock of the change in the winds. “I did insult the pack, coming in here and stomping around on their turf. I may not like them much, but I at least respect them. You, on the other hand, are the sickest, lowest kind of scum on the face of the Earth, and I sure as hell meant to insult you. So here’s the deal. The pack gets to chase my ass off the camp grounds. I make it to the gate, I’m home free, if not, they get to kick my ass and throw me out on their own. Either way, they get some of their own back, and we’re kind of even. Then you and I settle up, at the gate.” As I laid down the terms of the deal, Shade made her way toward me, laying a hand on each half-changed werewolf as she went. In her wake, each of them calmed a little, no longer trembling in the eagerness for the hunt, and where her hands had been, there was a little more intelligence in their eyes. By the time I was done, she had laid her gentling touch on each of them, except the biggest one, the massive grey one I figured was Brad. Her hand went to his jaw and slid up along behind one ear. He closed his eyes and tilted his head into her palm, rubbing his face forward into her touch. Her fingertips lingered on him for just a moment, then she turned to face me with a sadness in her eyes that touched some deep chord in me. Her eyes told me what no words could. This pack was hers, and she was going to claim it soon. She had used me to help make that happen, and she had no regrets about that. Hells, I didn’t blame her. But something had just changed, and it hurt her deep. She took one long look over her shoulder at Brad and stepped up to me, then reached out and laid her hand on my cheek. Her touch was warm, soft and electrifying. My skin tingled beneath her fingertips as she leaned in toward me. I thought she was going to say something to me, right up to the moment her eyes fluttered closed and her perfect, ruby lips touched mine.

If her touch was electrifying, her kiss was like being struck by lightning. My knees felt like they were melting, but my back went ramrod straight, as well as a couple of other things, and I almost dropped the paintball gun and my TK wand. My lips were telling me that hers were soft, moist, warm, smooth and damn it they were gone! Her hand left my face and fluttered to her own mouth, and I could see her tongue flicking over her lips. Then, a single tear slid down her cheek, contrasting to the tiny smile that pulled on the corner of her mouth.

“Wow!” I gasped. “But…why?” I asked as I reached out, my right hand not feeling like it was mine any more, and caught the tear on her cheek on my thumb. I brought my hand back, holding the precious droplet on it like a tiny jewel.

“Because I didn’t have to.” Her words hit me hard, both with what they meant, and what the kiss suddenly meant. This was the first time in who knew how long that she wasn’t being forced to be someone’s plaything. It was her first kiss by choice, and she was giving it to me in front of Brad and Dominic. It was a precious thing. I hoped that they got the subtle insult that kissing me implied, that when she could choose, she didn’t choose them, and wanted them to see her kiss someone else. I brought my tear-adorned thumb to my own lips, the salty taste of her pain on my tongue as I bowed my head to her in a gesture that I hoped conveyed my respect for her. “I’ll give you as much of a head start as I can,” she whispered, “if you’ll do one thing for me.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Name it.”

“Wait for me.”

“Until the sun never rises,” I said before I turned and sprinted out the door. Yeah, it was corny, but it felt right.

By the way, the above was from Second Chance, the same story I snippeted from last time, with the escaped demon's familiar.

Ah, fifteen year old werewolves and wizards in love. Boy, do I put the fun back into dysfunctional or what?