Prophet (pt1)

I had to tell this story from the perspective of the lead of the wildcatter team. While I can guess at the political machinations of gals such as Fussy and Aurie, there is no way, NONE, that I could ever “get inside” the head of Kalí. Even when she says what she is, I don’t fully understand; and here I am, the supposed author.

For those few, you happy few, who have read “The Fourth Law,” yes, the opening paragraph is a clean lift of its opening paragraph. I have my reasons.

This represents in the final piece of the puzzle which is “Imperial Entanglements.” I have some introductory paragraphs to write and an editing pass to make but hope to have it to my copyeditor in no more than 48 hours. It represents book two of three of my “Three Books in Three Months” challenge.

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Culture Shock, (pt4;end)

Sky is pushed to her breaking point and briefly does. Fortunately her friends and new family are there for her.

This was a fun fish-out-of-water tale to get to know a secondary character from “Obligations of Rank” better. Many of my short stories are like that. I’ll reread part of a book, recall something, or have someone ask “what ever happened to…?” and off I go.

Speaking of, onto my next project!

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Culture Shock, (pt2)

Wherein we see some of the existential angst (and Skylar would not understand that at all) which she is experiencing. I moved around a lot as a kid but it never became “easy,” just a routine. For someone like her, IIRC she’s nineteen, to find out your boyfriend is not exactly human, and a prince, and lives in one of the three Great Powers on earth… that could be overwhelming.

I thought about writing the argument she and Roland might have had when she proposed getting a job like she had before. Given how defensive he is over her, I’d imagine once he satisfied himself with her physical safety, he’d probably roll with it. Still, this is supposed to be a short story, so I cut it.

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Berserker, (pt4; end)

Rather pleased with how all of this turned out. There are still some things which might need addressing but real life is like that, too: loose ends are a way of life.

Was seriously “in the groove” yesterday and got down about 2500 words of “Culture Shock,” my next short. Hoping to wrap that one up today.

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Berserker, (pt3)

There are about 1200 words left in this story but there was no even break. So, this one is a little shorter and the conclusion tomorrow will be a little longer. Such happens.

I finally have two days off in a row from DayJob; I swear those people do not know what “part-time employee” means. I also now have two more short ideas to round out my next collection. Oh, yes… it will be called “Imperial Entanglements.” That title is, of course, borrowed from somewhere else. I invite guesses.

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Berserker, (pt2)

I admit I do not write personal fight scenes well. I can see them in my head but run, jump, jap, parry, gouge… I don’t know what to type in or leave out. Tactical or strategic battles? Read my Crusade Trilogy; I do those well, even if they take days to weeks or research to get correct. Six years ago, when Daughter #2 was still at home, I’d borrow her for her Shorin-Ryu karate training to understand some of the motions of hand-to-hand contact (“If you knock Dad out, no dinner!”).

So, we get what’s below. I do not think I botch it too bad. There are two points much more important than the action: one, Aurie knows she’s no superhero; she’s a little girl. Two, I want her and the readers to become aware of her rising bloodlust. That, to my mind, is something insanely dangerous for a demi-human to have.

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Berserker (pt1)

I need at least one or two short stories to fill out a second collection for publication. In “Regent,” which had the working title of “Colour” as I explored it here on my blog, there was a moment when demi-human princess Aurelia Hartmann killed twenty-seven men, pirates. She started with her rifle, then pistol, then knife, then teeth and hands. She seemed to revel in it.

Later in that story, talking with her grandparents at their place, we learn she has done this at least once before, and is somewhat uncomfortable if not embarrassed about that old memory. I wondered, when was the first (only? I don’t know) time this happened? How old was she? What were the circumstances?

And thus this short story was born.

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