Well, Hello There…
I’ve been a little absent from the webisphere lately. I’ve barely been making the rounds of WIPpeteers let alone swinging by other ROWers. I feel a bit bad about that, but I’m really crunching on getting a release date for Emergence. Yes, I did hint at a possible sneak peak of the cover today, but I decided I’d wait until next week because after this weekend I should have a much clearer idea of where things stand.
We have one more WIPterview scheduled for Friday. Then mine will be on Monday. So, last call for those questions! I hope everyone got a chance to stop by for Chloe’s WIPterview Friday, and Krista’s Monday. If I can get my schtuff together (meaning, if I remember and get it written up) I’ll post a list of links for all the WIPterviews in case you missed one.
My ROW80 update is short. As I mentioned, I’ve been emerged, immersed, and otherwise all-consumed by final details for Emergence. I did write some on CBC. I’m at 53,832 or thereabouts. Some of that is from scenes I’d written before the infamous Plot Explosion, and have since recycled. And I’ve settled on a title for the third book in the Darkness & Light Series — Edge of Darkness. I’ve got about 12k of odd, miscellaneous scenes written, and am firming up my plot notes so that I can begin in earnest. Yesterday I began Chapter One and who should make an appearance but our old pal Grumnlin. I didn’t realize he had a part to play yet and there he is, taking over the very beginning.
And now, on to this week’s WIPpet. Things have been a bit heavy with Driev of late, so I thought I’d lighten it up a little. For today I give you 21 short paragraphs, because when I drafted this post I thought today was the 19th and added 2 for the month. But today is the 12th, which backwards is 21 so it’s still all good. To set the scene, Driev found himself, as seems to be the case with him, in a less than optimum situation. As the excerpt begins, he is buck nekked after being kidnapped and questioned. He has since been unchained by his captor, and is now enjoying a bit of…civility…while they sort out their differences. They have just left the basement and have entered Accuin’s study. For the record, Driev is not the least bit modest. Where strolling around nekked might cause some to die of embarrassment, he takes it all in stride. And now, I leave you to it…
I’m not sure who looked more surprised when I set foot into the luxuriant study; me, or the young woman cleaning ashes from the fireplace. As her eyes drifted from my face, to my armful of weapons, to what lay below, her face became gradually more scarlet under the smeared soot, until the color rivaled Acciun’s robe. I awarded her a grin when she found her way to my face again.
“Greetings,” I said.
Her mouth formed an oval, and she clambered to her feet.
“Alys, excellent. Run and fetch this gentleman’s clothing,” Acciun said. “I believe Myrtle might have it.”
The girl continued to gape.
Acciun waved her toward the door. “His clothing. Now. You may find the sight attractive, but I do not.”
Alys’s blush did the impossible and deepened. She bobbed a curtsy, and ran from the room with more than a few backward glances.
“Do you intend to use those on me?” Acciun asked, with a nod toward my weapons.
“Possibly,” I said. “The Cloaked One knows I’ve got cause.”
“I should warn you, I won’t be an easy kill.” Acciun filled two mugs from a corked jar. “I was schooled in arms by the predecessor of the man who trained you. Unlike some who give up the sword for other pursuits, I still practice daily. Something it appears you do not.”
“I’ve been too busy getting kidnapped to spend time on my forms,” I said. I laid my weapons across the arms of a nearby chair, and took the offered mug, giving it a cursory sniff before raising it to my lips: dry, heady, and rich, with a blend of berries and malt. “Tasty.”
“A vintage from the north of Kopke. I have it brought in by the barrel and allow it to age in my cellar. I get a better price that way. It is not a very popular drink. Most people find it too potent.”
Acciun settled into a chair with his mug, his legs crossed, watching me. A rap at the door preceded Alys. She bustled into the room, my clothes clutched in her arms. Another girl tagged along behind, one of my boots in either of her hands. Alys’s color flamed again when she looked my way, but her companion smiled brazenly. She walked my boots over and bent to place them by my feet, tugging her bottom lip between her teeth as she straightened and let her eyes wander. She gave me a cheeky wink, and peered around me to where Acciun sat.
“Anything else, Eminence?” she asked.
“A bit more decorum if you could manage, Alynda,” Acciun said, his voice flat.
“I will try, Eminence.” She looked at me, feigning innocence. “Shall I help you dress, sir?”
Alys had already bolted for the door, and stood there shifting from foot to foot, her gaze darting around the room. Alynda bobbed a curtsy. “As you will.” She pursed her lips and then mouthed something that might have been, perhaps later.
I lifted her hand before she could turn away, and brushed a kiss across her knuckles. “Bring your friend.”
This was one of those pre-Plot Explosion scenes that may or may not survive. I think it will, because currently that’s the direction things are heading.
So, happy hump day. Go forth and WIP the ROWers…no…that’s not right…although rowers often did get whipped…
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