I forgot that I was going to post our Friday Flash story in it’s entirety. Oops. *blush* My brain has been elsewhere. Also, I forgot to mention yesterday that George Eads, my photographic model for Deke Carpenter in FAIRY TALES, was all but unanimously picked to move into the Mr. Summer finals.

So, without further adieu, here is our story:

And then she jumped me. She’d been the number one champion for the underdog, always taking up for those too scared or too timid to take up for themselves. Maybe that’s why he’d never allowed himself to fall completely in love.

“So you read about me.”

“Steady, Missy.” Strike had teleported with no training, no guidance. She doesn’t seem to be in any danger at the moment.

The Viking was bigger, stronger, and most intent on breaching the lady’s thighs. Eve was going to dig quickly to learn just how much Towers had tucked away. All she needed to do was open the sluice gates a little, and the quickest way to do that was with some good old-fashioned masturbation–or what her mother had called “naughty fingers” when Tess was growing up.

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” she demanded.

A complaint to his supervisor resulted in nothing but a lecture about how she was clearly sending mixed signals. And the mystery woman made him want to thrust both hands directly into the black dirt. Once she flew to Seattle to visit with him over a long weekend and three times he flew to Phoenix, also for long weekend, visits that went spectacularly well.

“Why won’t you kill me?”

Still, she had a way of making the word man sound as if Jessie should, in a complete role reversal, demand her mother wash her mouth out with soap. She was no match for these men. They caught a quick bite at the deli near the hotel before hurriedly–and cautiously– grabbing their remaining belongings from their rooms and catching the 17:20 train to Aswan. The same could not be said for the man who stood staring through the floor-length windows overlooking the half-pipe in the warehouse beyond. Not that she could blame him.

Before this year, she’d fired that weapon only during her bureau training and never removed it from its holster once in the line of duty. He’s been with Luke a couple of years now and hasn’t had a single problem. Something about wanting her Faery back and you dead.

She’d been through this before. Now that we might have found him and had to go in guns blazing, I was thinking…maybe not so good. But Quigga just furrowed his brow as he looked up at the Golden Monkeys’ city. The impressive edifice had its own carbide gas generating plant in the basement, along with a coal-fired, steam radiator heating system. He’d probably thought he was leaving it behind him in Toronto, but the scandal rags of Halifax couldn’t resist sinking their teeth into a prime catch like Randall Barrett.

So try to calm down, get quiet, breathe, and listen. His strictest rule is not to get into trouble and not to give my mother a big mouth. Whereas Deliverance is about a stranger coming to the rescue, Sojourn is about a stranger coming to visit. Ours is a culture that tells us ‘bigger is always better’ and that ‘more’ is better too. I felt like I might break out in welts from sheer anxiety. The world within him, and the world as he sees it. It also made her feel like an imposter.

Although Dorothy turns back for the time being, powerful forces have been set in motion in her life. The psychological concept of the Shadow archetype is a useful metaphor for understanding villians and antagonists in our stories, as well as grasping the unexpressed, ignored, or deeply hidden aspects of our heroes. They didn’t smoke, or drink, or (if the movie Footloose was to be believed) dance. We point to well-intentioned social programs like battered women’s shelters and “dress-for-success” nonprofit organizations that help women get out from under abuse and wonder, why didn’t she seek

Cooper waited at the front door. The Fossah looked at Katook but was silent.

“I’m not!”

Monte Carson laid the three telegraph forms on his desk, his eyes fixed beyond the open door to the sheriff’s office in Big Rock, Colorado.

“I left Vinnie alone in my apartment for a few hours, and he was wearing my panties when I came home. Your arms were crossed over your chest, you had this terrifying scowl on your face… How many times you manage to fertilize an egg?”

Some days are decidedly less peaceful. Silvio Menzano was married in a private legal ceremony in Vermont in September 2009. Brighten up your garden with these colorful, hand-crafted stakes, an arresting combination of fiery, light-capturing glass and warm, smooth stone. To create a garden that emphasized symmetry and geometry, Webster began with a central water feature.

Even the best fall down sometimes. Guest blogger Shiloh Walker and Other Monsters Under the Bed. Reggie Jackson famously said “Blind men come to the park just to hear him pitch.” Welcome back Stephanie Newton.

She had never been more embarrassed, felt more rejected, not even when Wilson had left her at the altar. Someone poked her back and she whipped around startled. A slender, stylishly dressed blonde woman opened the door.

It was two hours until dawn, the bulk of my evening having been taken up by Ethan, Nick, and my father, so I took the opportunity to give the library the perusal of a former researcher. “Hello.”

“Good.”

Maybe she was crazy.

She could never focus on it, though; never place the memory. “It does not matter anyway, does it?” she said.

“No need to run little man,” one of the rogues taunted, his voice scrapping like gravel. It took time and effort to shape an effective medical team, and there would be a certain attrition rate. Oh, no, she didn’t want to fall asleep, as welcome as it might have been.

Today they will find her body. Or she has already left for work, but is running late. A.J. Sutherland was captivated by the stallion the first moment she saw him. Everyone else just took up space.

“As long as you’re with me, Lex, I can do anything.” Then he walked away. Nikita had sent them paper. For all eternity. “You, darling Sara, have captured me completely.”

“Hmm-hmm.”

It was good to know that, in at least one area of my life at least, my choices had been just fine.

“Oh my dear…” he laughed “…when we are together, the world will never, ever be the same.”

So is the hunter. I tucked the firearm into the holster under my left arm even as I rose from the chair to continue doing my job…

The End

Now all it needs is a title. Y’all have any ideas? Oh…Iffy says be sure to drop by tomorrow. She has chocolitinis to share as she interviews Deirdre O’Connor from FAERIE FIRE.

And to those of you lining up to kick my patootie about FOOL, I am writing. I know it doesn’t look like the graph is moving, but it is, slowly but surely, usually 1000 words at a time (which is only about 1% of the total in my goal) so don’t get upset if it doesn’t look like it’s moving. I promise it is!

Okay. I’m a fake. I admit it. I’ve been ragging on other writers struggling with writer’s block, I don’t wannas, I’m tireds, RL interference, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. (She says in a decent imitation of Yul Brenner’s King.)

I keep meaning to work on FAERIE FOOL. No. Really. I do. Yes, I know. I had a novella to write, edit, page proof, etc. And a WIP to completely revise and get out the door on submission. And the NRCA awards. RWA. Con Crud(tm). My excuses are as long as Santa’s naughty list. Should I mention that I’ve got Writers For New Orleans coming up over Labor Day weekend? That means a five-day road trip with my critique partner.

Speaking of… Part of the problem I was having with FOOL is having enough story to tell. I’m just under 10K words. I need at least 65K to get the book in paperback as well as ebook. I just didn’t have enough story to stretch it. So I went to coffee with Heidi. And we talked through her plotting roadblocks of her current WIP. Then I told her about FOOL and how I just couldn’t get into it. In talking it through, I realized a few plot points I hadn’t thought of, a twist or two, and now I have a better idea of the direction I need to go. Iffy is pleased. I’ve set a deadline, too, as I seem to work better with the ax hanging over my head, even if self-imposed. If I want to start a new project for NaNoWriMo this year, I’ll need to get FOOL finished by the end of October. That’s two and a half months. That’s my goal with an absolute drop dead goal of the end of November. I’m taking responsibility for my own writing. But you guys need to keep me “honest.” Keep watching the word count percentage over there on the right. It should start moving any day now. No. Really. Any. Day. Srsly!

I start tomorrow. Especially since Iffy is taking over the blog. In the meantime, look at what’s on MY AUTHOR PAGE at the Wild Rose Press. I’ll soon have a back list! Wow. I’m impressed. *gigglesnort*

Oh, Iffy says to remind y’all that she’s doing a contest starting tomorrow. Any guesses on what it is?

Well, we’ll give this another week and see if y’all are still having fun with it. Let’s go back to our current reads. On page 150, last full sentence on the page. I’m reading on Kin so for those of you reading on ereaders, put down the last full sentence of the page that opens. From Linda Winstead Jones’s DESPERADO’S GOLD:

She had never been more embarrassed, felt more rejected, not even when Wilson had left her at the alter.

Ready…set…GO!

(Just a reminder…this is your last chance to win an ARC of FAERIE FIRE. Simply leave a comment at Sky’s Blog.)

…OR… Let’s procrastinate!?! I discovered this fun little time waster from a tweet by literary agent, Janet Reid. I think this is hysterical. First, I plugged in the first chapter of AGGIE AND THE ZOMBIES. After analysis, I was given this badge to post. (Oh, how I wish! Asimov has always been a writing hero of mine!!!)

I write like
Isaac Asimov

I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!

Then, out of curiosity, I had to plug in the first chapter of SEASON OF THE WITCH. It came up that I write like Dan Brown. Wow. Do you suppose I could use this in a query to an agent or editor? Yeah…probably not. LOLOL

So, folks, plug in examples of your own writing and share with us who you write like!

Believe it or not, I actually will be working as you read this, despite the fact that I’m running all over. The errands are mostly work related–well, RWA related, anyway. Here’s a few more updates.

We have a guest blogger, author Sky Purington, this Friday, so Friday Flash will be moved to Thursday! I have to admit I’m very curious where this story is going. I know I promised two character interviews this week, so I’ll just have to combine them tomorrow. I’m over at HAPPY ENDINGS today blogging about conferences. Yeah, I know. Not really inspired writing but it was the best I could do with time ticking.

As of the time I’m writing this, I have about 100 pages left to polish and revise on SOTW. I’m dragging my feet. REALLY dragging my feet. I mean, like…beyond doing laundry and going to Walmart dragging my feet. *sigh* I’m not quite sure why, other than I’m in a weird headspace of late. It seems like for every step I take forward, I slide back three or four. It’s all mental–my insecurities surging to the forefront, I fear. FAERIE FATE seems to be doing okay sales-wise, though I won’t really know for sure until royalty statements come later in the year. I worry SOTW won’t cut it, even after these revisions and polish, but I think as an author, we all feel that way about our work. I love FAERIE FIRE and hope it does well–and I think it will. FAIRY TALES was fun to write and I look forward to it’s debut, too.

I just…I’m not finding joy in my writing at the moment. It’s seems like a labor, and not one of love. I don’t feel the creative spark clicking inside. I’m like that butane grill lighter that got wet. You click and there’s a tiny spark but not enough to catch fire. So you click and you click and you click and end up with nothing but frustration. I should note that Iffy is standing in the corner sticking her tongue out at me. She’s here and brimming with ideas, but waiting until I finish revisions/edits. I need an infusion–some sort of spark to ignite my passion again. In the meantime, I’m simply too stubborn to give up so I keep scrolling through the pages, fixing here, tightening there, expanding when it needs it, cutting extraneous lines/paragraphs/scenes when necessary.

Maybe I just need to throw myself a good ol’ fashioned pity party….Ha! I now need to go off in search of an icon for a pity party! While I’m doing that, y’all tell me what’s got you down these days? We can call commiserate with each other.

Polishing with massive amounts of elbow grease and much head banging on keyboard as I work through my CP’s notes, the synopsis, and that damnable query. As a result, I thought we might try something fun today. Grab the nearest book, preferably the one you are reading *right* now. Let us know what book and author. Turn to page 56. Find the fifth sentence. Copy the sentence in your comment. I’ll put them together at the end of the day for a story. You can comment more than once with various books. I’ll start. LOL

Book: Lucienne Diver’s YA novel, VAMPED.

“And then she jumped me.”

Every once in awhile we should take time to clean out our wallet. Or our files, email boxes, bookshelves, closets. No. I promise, I’m not going in the closet. The monsters living in there are real. Srsly!

Brenda Novak’s Auction for Juvenile Diabetes Research is over. My basket sold for $133.00. This year The auction raised $285,780, which brought the grand total to over $1 million! This money will make a real difference in the lives of all those living with diabetes. Not only did I donate a gift basket, I bid on items, too! Once again, I managed to be the high bidder for the Writers for New Orleans conference package (held over Labor Day weekend) donated by Heather Graham. Heidi, my CP and I went last year and had a blast. We’re going road-tripping again this year! This is especially sweet since she had to cancel her plans for RWA once it changed from Nashville to Orlando. I’ll also get to take part in the book signing on that Sunday afternoon, proceeds donated to the New Orleans library. There will be costumes. And merriment. And much plotting!

Speaking of literacy signings, the list is up at RWA for the authors taking part in the signing in Orlando. I’m sitting two people away from Eloisa James and one person away from Julie James one one side and one person away from Sabrina Jeffries on the other. Yeah…I’ll get to smile at lots of people having no desire to see me. LOL HERE’S THE LIST if you want to check who’ll be there.

SEASON OF THE WITCH is finished. Well, it was finished before but this revision is finished! Man, talk about tough! It’s been sent to the ever faithful CP and to a trustworthy beta reader. I await the verdict with bated (and baited *bwahaha* Yay for crab and shrimp!) breath. Yesterday, I took a break. Today, I pull out the query and synopsis and polish them until they shine!

Want to know what I did yesterday? I looked for character pictures. I have models for almost all of the characters for FAERIE FIRE. I think that’s pretty cool. I’ll start introducing them soon. Maybe tomorrow if I get my edits done. Ms. CP hit me with the first three chapters last night. I’m sobbing and sniffling and valiantly rewriting. (I only put that in there in case she drops by so I can make her feel bad *bwahahaha*

So what’s on your mind? Or in your wallet?

I feel brain dead. Stop laughing. I know y’all are snickering and asking, “So what else is new?” I started back in on SOTW yesterday, made it into the first scene I was writing and…blanked. I totally forgot where I was going in the overall scheme of things. I sort of kind of maybe remembered there was a bit of backstory I wanted to touch on in this phone conversation but then I couldn’t remember if I’d already relayed that bit of information. Alas! What to do? Do I turn Iffy loose and let the scene go down whatever path it chooses and see how it all works once I read the whole MS in toto? Or should I break off the writing, sit down and reread the revisions from the beginning to figure out where the heck I am in the landscape?

Decisions. Decisions. Maybe I’ll just go clean house. We have guests coming for the weekend. The Only graduates cum laude on Saturday. While we plan on eating out after, I still need to de-clutter and at least clean bathrooms. What does that say, eh? I’d rather clean toilets than figure out the WIP? LOLOL Naw. I think I’ll do a FIND/REPLACE function, zip through to see if I actually inserted that bit and figure out Plan B from there. Anything is better than cleaning toilets, right? Besides, I’m going to win the lottery today and then I can hire a housekeeper. That’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it!

Confession time, y’all. What task in your life makes you consider cleaning toilets instead?

Get your minds out of the gutter! It’s not what you think. No. Really. I think Silver has completely blown me off. I can’t find her anywhere! She was working on this new short story and I helped her with it. Seriously. I played what if with her for a day or so. I even gave her this really funny window character who keeps calling and bugging her heroine at the worst possible times. Toby is just…fun. Like me, you know? Well…not like me, but fun.

So anyway, I went off to play with Sade because, you know, Sade is, like, really wanting Silver to work on her book again but these other characters are cluttering up our mind and well, anyway…Sade and I were hanging out, expecting Silv to come find us just any moment and…and…she didn’t! *flail* *runs in circles* *flail* We came out and Silv wasn’t here. Or there. Or anywhere! *wail* She didn’t respond to people’s comments yesterday. *whimper* I want my author back! Have any of you seen her? Please send her home…. *sniffle* I checked her project count and she’s up over 17K words. I think she ran away to finish it. But I want her here. I’m hungry. And thirsty. And all alooooonnnnne! I don’t like it. *pout*

Huh. I’ll teach her. I’ll run away from home! Do any of you need a muse? I work cheap. Chocolate. Alpha males. Champagne. Filet Mignon. Truffles. Escargot. Caviar. *blink* Wait…what do you mean caviar is fish eggs. EWWWWWWW!!! *SPITspitspitspitSPIT* That was mean. I’m just gonna go hide in my corner until my writer comes back.

How many of you found a toad to kiss (in one form or another) yesterday? Was it fun? Me? I did a couple of things, just for fun. I entered a “first line” contest on a literary agency’s blog (the first line to the Steampunk/Vampire/Zombie Romance(tm)) and I dashed off a quick entry to a really fun “contest” the Deadline Dames run every month. I tied for first, last month. Called Readers on Deadline (or ROD), Dame Rinda Elliott posts a picture, image, or some other bit of inspiration. The “reader” has to tell a story about the image in 250 words, or less. Here is my winning entry:

Some days, my life revolved around one cliché after another. If the old gypsy woman wadding up the back of my jacket in her gnarled fingers was any indication, my day was headed straight to hell in a handbasket. Her other hand snaked over my shoulder as she pointed with such ferocity her bony arm shook.

“There. Up there. See it!” Her breath tickled my ear.

I did see it. An hour after dawn, no way it was vampire. Other shadows drifted across broken windows, highlighted briefly as the weak sun poked frostbitten fingers through the overcast but I ignored them. Amorphous, tenuous, they held no sway on this plane. But the face. The face staring at me from the third floor window? Real. Real enough I broke out in a bad case of goosebumps. The gypsy’s grip slackened. A cold chill galloped down my spine at her words.

“Beware the witch that comes in the night. Beware the child with the second sight. Beware the dark man who will not see. Beware the ties that bind. They will not set you free.”

“What is it with you psychic types? Everything fucking rhymes.” Didn’t matter. She knew. I knew, too. Destiny waited for me inside that crumbling monster of an asylum. And everyone knew Destiny was a bitch. That’s why I’d been assigned to this case. I was the biggest bitch of all.

Ah, yes. That would be our Sade from SOTW in action. You can go HERE to see the image–the photograph of a creepy old building–that was the inspiration for my winning bit. You can also see the picture for this month’s contest and my entry. This time, I decided Roman needed some attention from Iffy.

Have a great Thursday. I’m off to kiss some more toads. Oh…and Happy Statehood Day, Oklahoma!