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Tuesday, October 13, 2015

Tuesday Teaser - A New Beginning #scifi #timetravel #romance

This week I've been trapped in editing hell, and so far the light at the end of the tunnel is a flamethrower. I can't seem to get out of this self-destructive cycle of thinking everything sucks. Really, it's just one key issue. Would my character do this, and why? But it's kicking my butt trying to fix it, rather than the other way around right now.
So this week I couldn't come up with a topic. Instead, I'm going to share an excerpt from the novel currently giving me so much trouble. This is the newly edited opening to book two, Keir's Fall.


A Science Fiction Romance Novel
Goodreads | Webpage
The ocean rolled in low, lazy waves, like a rippled sheet of platinum silk laced with diamonds. Keir stood poised above the water on a rocky ridge that curled out to embrace the sea. With a long spear raised in his right hand and his left arm stretched out for balance, he kept his eyes fixed on the glittering water below.
A gentle sea breeze stirred the odd tendril of black hair, and he blinked each annoyance away when it strayed too close to his eyes. Sunlight warmed his dark-blue skin beneath the runes scrawled over his bare torso. He stilled his breath and held himself steady as telltale flickers in the blue water told him the time was coming. Only his gaze shifted.
A shadow writhed in the depths, and he struck, thrusting his spear into the sea. After a moment’s pause, he yanked it back to lift his prize from the water. The giant eel twisted itself in hopeless knots as it tried to wriggle free, droplets falling from its scales like rain.
Satisfaction drew a smile to his face. Keir hefted the spear over his shoulder, taking care its spiky teeth could not reach him while it struggled in its death throes as he headed along the ridge toward the beach. The thrashing load tested his balance, but fishing first thing had become a part of his morning ritual, and the uneven path had grown familiar over time. Pale pink sand clung to his skin as he made his way to the tideline and laid his now-still catch on the ground, removing the spear from it with an effort.
He slid a knife from the sheath on his thigh and gutted the eel then removed the head with a wet crunch. A pattern of shadows over the sand jerked his gaze skyward. A small flight of delicate moth-dragons whirled above his head, no doubt drawn by the prospect of a free meal. He returned his attention to the eel with a smile. The little scaly scavengers were harmless and generally useful, and he silently wished them joy of it as he left the refuse on the beach. They landed in a squabbling mass of rainbow-gossamer wings as he washed his hands and cleaned the fish at the water’s edge.
He watched them for a moment, and they returned the favor—the occasional pair of tiny black eyes rising from the crowd to glare at him suspiciously. Their dark metallic green hides glimmered in the dawn light, and their tremulous squeaks were the only sound above the rush of sea against sand. As he rose, they scattered in agitation, squawking protests at being disturbed from their feast. Keir walked a wide circle around them to a path cut through a grove of giant bamboo, running his hand along the thin wooden handrails that had been worn smooth by constant use.
After several twists and turns had taken him deeper into the dappled shade and whispering trees, he came to a raised hut with a peaked roof of dried leaves. Rough stone steps led up to the veranda. He entered in silence and laid the eel on the kitchen table before opening the inner door and making his way in as quietly as possible.
Fragmented sunbeams fell through the gauzy insect netting at the windows to pattern the smooth timber floor. Keir paused, and his breath caught. Dappled light touched the woman sprawled across the bed, asleep under a woven blanket in shades of blue. Her tousled red hair half-covered her face, one arm was folded across her stomach, and the other laid palm upward on the pillow beside her head. The elfin face was childlike, her skin pale gold with freckles scattered over her small nose, her expression one of contented oblivion.
His chest tightened. Even now, it seemed beyond belief that he should be here, that he should have such a peaceful life and someone as beautiful and loving as Quin to share it with. The idyll of Kasha-Asor would be nothing without her by his side. Each day with her was a blessing. All the more so because he had once believed her dead by his own actions.
On impulse, he lifted the netting aside, but as his shadow passed over her, her gray eyes snapped open. In a flurry of blankets, she leaped from the bed and knocked him to the floor. Pain speared through his body as she straddled him and pinned his hands.
“Never,” she told him in a low growl, “ever try to sneak up on me in bed!”
Winded, he could only nod, and she gave him an impish grin before leaning down to kiss him. Freeing himself from her grip, he slid his hands slowly along her back as he returned her kiss, ruffling the short, turquoise shift she wore. The pain faded into irrelevance as he buried his fingers in her hair and pulled her close. Her lips were sweet and hot, her body warm and soft against his. The scent of azuri flowers filled his nostrils, and heat spiraled through him.
“Ahmiri.” The Metraxian word for soul mate had become his special name for her, and her kisses deepened. For a few blissful moments, he lost himself in her response, in the fiery glow of her thoughts. Then she sat up, shattering the rapture as she disentangled herself from his embrace.
~~~

Status update
Second round edits on my space opera short went back to my editor on Friday. I've already mentioned my continuing struggle with round two for Keir's Fall. First round edits on the Redemption side story are yet to come. NaNoWriMo is fast approaching, and I have no idea if I have the stamina, time, or inspiration to take part this November. On the other hand, muse is currently obsessed with the idea of an urban fantasy set in my hometown of Colchester and I keep finding myself making notes for it...

Happenings
It's week three of Scream! For the Cure, and the basket up for preview is paranormal.




This week is quieter on the event front with a couple of guests at my blog, and my post on magic over at Romancing the Genres on Friday.
Corrina Lawson posted at Barnes & Noble about twenty books that have the perfect balance of SciFi and romance (and Keir got a mention among the stellar titles). Stop by HERE and share your favourites too.
Bookshelf
I've just finished The Minority Council, the fourth and final Matthew Swift book. London-based urban fantasy where the hero really doesn't want to be the hero but ends up doing the job no one else wants to do. Since it was written over three years ago, I guess no further books will be coming, which makes me sad. As always, you can check out my reviews/ratings over at Goodreads (the reviews won't hit Critique de Book until the New Year. Yup, I've managed to schedule that far ahead now!).

Ping Pong
Right now I know Laurie is also trapped in editing hell. *hugs*
Greta is taking a break in the real world but has invited several SFR authors to share their favourite characters over the next few weeks.


Pippa Jay, signing off...

2 comments:

  1. I thought about doing NaNo next month, but determined that I'd rather not put myself under more pressure. This is so I may stay semi-sane for the holidays afterwards!
    A beautiful description of the sea. Now I want to go to the beach!

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    Replies
    1. I love the Camp NaNo where you can set a word count for either kickstarting or completing projects (the only way I've 'won'). The November one, however, normally means burn out for a couple of months after, so with all the editing I'm not entirely sure it's a good idea. I might just work on the UF over November without doing the actual NaNo.
      Thanks! Ugh, I can't wait for beach weather again...

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