Forced Landing - NaNo Novel 1st excerpt

Seriously, I have got to find a better title for this thing. Even as a working title it’s bad. But I had to use something on the cover.

This excerpt is from the beginning and doesn’t really need much explaining. Bear in mind that it’s in draft form. And no, I couldn’t come up with a better name for the agent than XYZ.

They were persistent, she’d give them that much. Sabella cursed as a blip showed up behind her on the scan. She rubbed the grit out of her eyes and fought back exhaustion. If she didn’t get some proper sleep soon, she was afraid she was going to pass out, and then it would be game over. She thought she’d lost them in the nebula two days back, but she’d no sooner shut her eyes then the alarm from the scanner sounded.

A little over a week ago she’d been contemplating a change of career. Her work as a linguistics specialist provided enough credits to pay for a small apartment of her own and a few luxuries, but working for the Talarian Corporation wasn’t what she thought it would be. And when the rumors of their shady dealings started to surface, she started looking for a position somewhere else.

In fact, she’d been approached by an agent for the Federated Security Alliance to help them, undercover of course, to investigate some of the company’s dealings. While he was adamant that she not take any unnecessary risk, they were getting desperate for inside information. All she needed to do was keep her ears open.

It seemed simple enough, when he laid it out for her, and she readily agreed. To be honest, her job was a little monotonous and her skills were underutilized. And it bothered her, the rumors about some of the shadier dealings, the arms dealing to smugglers and the trafficking in human and alien slaves.

So she kept her ears open as she went about her work, and paid close attention to who was coming and going in the offices of the supervisors. Then four days ago she had been in the break room when she’d been close enough to a table full of executives discussing details of a shipment of hominids. They were speaking in Frezian, an uncommon dialect but one she was trained in. She’d edged as close as she could to them, but one of them grew suspicious and spoke to her.

“I’m sorry,” she said, smiling apologetically. “I’m afraid I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

“You are a linguist, are you not?” the man asked, voice heavily accented.

“Yes, I specialize in Cretian and Zenarii. What language were you speaking, I don’t think I’ve ever heard it before,” she said, striving to show an innocent curiosity.

It must have worked, because the man muttered something under his breath and then turned away. She worked to the end of her shift, conscious the whole time of being under scrutiny and trying not to react to it. But she breathed a sigh of relief when her shift was done and she was able to leave, chatting and laughing with several of her co-workers as though she hadn’t a care in the world.

The moment she was safely in her apartment she activated the null field and then contacted the agent on the secure communicator he’d supplied her with.

“You’re sure of the day and time,” he’d asked her.

“I have an eidetic memory,” she told him. “I remember exactly what they said.”

“Good work. If we can get our people in place, we might be able to take the entire network down. But what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Are you sure they didn’t know you understood Frezian?”

“I’m pretty sure,” she said, not sure at all. “They’d have to do a deep dive into my records to find out the truth. I’m pretty sure it was one of the languages I listed on my resume.” She was starting to get a little nervous.

“But they don’t know who you are to do that, right?”

“Well . . .” she hesitated. “We’re required to wear our ID badges. If he caught a glimpse of the one I was wearing he might have caught my employee number.”

The agent swore. “I think just to be on the safe side, I think this would be a good time to take a vacation.”

“A vacation? Do you really think that’s necessary?”

“Maybe, maybe not. But better to be safe than sorry. I can arrange for you to go to a safe place. If something goes wrong, we’ll need you to testify. How soon can you be ready to go?”

Now she was seriously getting nervous. “I’ve got plenty of vacation time accrued, but won’t it look suspicious if I take it now?”

“Pretend you have a family emergency,” he directed. “I’ll meet you at the spaceport in 90 minutes. South entrance, bay two.”

“You’re starting to scare me, Agent XYZ,” she said.

“I’m sorry, but what you’ve stumbled on is bigger than I expected. I’ll get the take-down in motion and meet you at the space port.”

“South entrance, bay two,” she repeated.

She’d sent a message to her supervisor at work, telling her that she had a family emergency and would need to use some of her vacation time. Her supervisor messaged her back telling her to take as much time as she needed, things were slow at work right now anyway. Then she threw a few necessities – toiletries, a couple of changes of clothes – into a shoulder bag and headed to the spaceport.

The space port was always busy, day or night. As she passed through the south entrance and headed towards bay two, she couldn’t help but feel like she was being followed. She looked around furtively, but couldn’t see anyone, but the sensation of being watched didn’t abate.

The bays usually held six ships, but bay two only had one. As she approached she realized there was something lying at the base of the ramp leading to it. Something that resolved itself into Agent XYZ. She knelt beside him with a gasp.

He reached up with one bloody hand, and pressed a security disc into her hand. “Take the ship,” he gasped. “Run!”

Second NaNo Excerpt

I’m still blindly trying to find my way with this year’s NaNo story, so I decided to post another excerpt from a previous NaNo.

This one was from 2017, and it’s actually the sequel to Driving Into Forever (the one I posted last week), called Lost and Found. This time, however, I reached the 50,000 word goal (actually, the final word count was 53,000+ words).

In this story, Sara (the best friend of main character Hannah from DIF) is worried when she can’t get a hold of her friend, and decides to drive out to her place to make sure she’s all right. She also ends up driving through the same interdimensional fog, and ends up crashing into a person.

The fog began to thicken as Sara turned off the highway onto the road that wound through the woods to the causeway. Unlike Hannah, she’d never liked being out in the fog, it creeped her out. But it was definitely at times like this she appreciated her Cadillac El Dorado. It may be a gas guzzler but it would stand up to anything the fog could throw at her.

She could barely see the road but she kept to a steady pace, you never knew what might be lurking if you stopped in the fog. Every horror movie Sara had ever seen flashed through her mind. The road was usually in good repair but it had been a hard winter and it felt like the pavement was being held together with potholes.

There was no worry that she strayed off the road, she’d been down it often enough she could probably navigate it blind-folded, which is what it felt like now. But it led pretty much straight to the causeway, which lead straight to the island Hannah lived on, and there were trees bordering the sides, not that she could see much of them either.

It was probably just an illusion because of the fog, but the road seemed to go on forever. Shouldn’t she be on the causeway by now? A dark shape loomed up suddenly in front of her.

“Holy crap!” Sara slammed on the brakes and yanked the steering wheel hard to the right. The big car jerked to a halt and she sat there, clutching the steering wheel and gasping.

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod!”

Did she hit whatever, or whoever that was? She should go check. Really she should. Just as soon as she could make herself let go of the steering wheel. They might be hurt. It might even have been Hannah. That ratty old Jeep she drove might have broken down and she could have been walking along the road, on her way home.

That thought was enough to make her release her death grip on the steering wheel and scramble out of the car. The fog swirled and eddied around her. It was so thick she could barely see and she kept one hand on the car until she reached the front bumper. It was disconcerting not to be able to see the road under her feet. She shuffled forward slowly, hands out in front of her to ward off anything she might run into.

“Hello? Is anyone there?”

She’d always thought fog was supposed to amplify sound, this fog was so thick it seemed to muffle it.

“Are you alright? Hannah, is that you?”

Was that the sound of someone in pain she heard over there? Sara followed the sound, not sure if she was on the road or not. Her foot struck something soft; this time there was definitely a groan.

“Oh jeez!”

She hunkered down and found the form on the ground more by touch than by sight. “Oh my God, are you okay?” Frantically she ran her hands over the body, trying to determine if there were any serious injuries.

“I am so sorry! You just appeared out of nowhere. I know I was probably going a little too fast, you know, considering the fog and all, but oh my God what are you doing out here in the middle of the road anyway? Didn’t you have enough sense to move out of the way when you heard my car coming?” She was babbling and she knew it, but couldn’t seem to stop herself.

The body started to rise under her questing hands.

“Are you sure you ought to do that? Maybe you should just stay put until we’re sure you’re alright. Is there someone I could call for you?” She patted her pockets. “Oh, damn! I must have left my cell phone at home. Do you have one with you?”

She was on the verge of checking his pockets for a phone when a thought struck her. “I don’t know if the 911 service would risk sending an ambulance out here or not. It’s probably not such a good idea to have someone else risk coming out in this fog, unless you feel you need one?”

This last was phrased more like a question and she paused for a breath, waiting for a reply. When there was none, she shrugged.

“Oh well, it shouldn’t be too far to my friend Hannah’s house. We can use her phone.” She helped him as he started to rise. “Wow, you are a tall one, aren’t you? Let me help you to my car.”

So far her victim hadn’t said a word. Sara couldn’t decide whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. All she could tell was that he was a man, a tall man, and he felt pretty solidly built under her helping hands. He moved slowly, carefully, with her towards the car. Or least towards where she thought the car should be.

After a few minutes she halted them. Sara bit her lower lip and glanced around. “I know you probably don’t want to hear this, but I think we missed the car in this fog.”

The man mumbled something.

“What did you say?”

“Not fog, Myste.” His voice was strained.

“Well, whatever you want to call it, it’s as thick as pea soup. I’m telling you, I’ve never seen a fog this thick in all my life.”

“Got to keep moving,” the nameless man told her. She had to strain to hear him. “Not safe.”

“Not safe? Well, yeah, obviously since you got hit and all, but it can’t be far to my friend Hannah’s house.” She carefully turned them around.

“Not there.”

“What’s not there?” Sara asked absently. She tried to concentrate on where they were going. They couldn’t have strayed off the road, could they?

“Hannah,” he said with a great deal of effort. “Not there, she’s with Kelvin.”

“Kelvin?” Sara stopped and turned to him. “Who’s Kelvin? You’re a friend of Hannah’s?” She peered closer at him but his features were still indistinct. “Who are you?”

“Nathan,” he answered.

She sighed in frustration. “Okay Nathan. Save your strength. We can talk once we’re out of this damned fog.”

He didn’t answer and she got the feeling it was taking all of his concentration just to stay upright. The bad feeling she’d been having was starting to grow in proportion to the thickness of the fog. There was something unnatural about this fog, it was giving her a real bad case of the heebie-jeebies. Worse than fog usually did.

First NaNo Excerpt

And by first NaNo, I mean the very fist NaNo I ever participated in, way back in 2006. As you read, I’m sure you’ll notice how much my writing has improved since then. :-)

This is from a story called Driving Into Forever. The premise is, a woman is driving home in the fog and ends driving through some kind of dimensional shift and ends up crashing into a tree. She’s found by a group of scientists who are researching this phenomena they call the Myste. In this scene, she and the nephew of one of these scientists are going on a excursion back to her car to remove the stereo – one of the things they do is look for other technology. Oh, and Hannah and Kelvin are attracted to each other (in case you couldn’t guess), only Kelvin seems to be fighting it.

Sorry about the poor quality of the cover picture, but I couldn't find my original and had to pull this off the NaNo site, which apparently has changed the sizing of their covers.

“Good morning, sleepy heads,” Hannah called to Kelvin and Terrell as they finally put in an appearance for breakfast. Always an early riser, she’d been up for over an hour, and in decidedly good spirits.

“Sorry we’re late,” Terrell said. “Kelvin kept me awake with his tossing and turning.”

“Really,” Hannah grinned and turned to Kelvin, “Trouble sleeping?”

“Not at all,” he replied, sending her a look that made her tingle all over.

While they helped themselves to breakfast, Hannah went over to where Colby and Padraic had an assortment of tools waiting for her. She picked through them carefully, looking for tools that not only looked familiar but would aid in removing the stereo system from the jeep. By the time she had half a dozen of the most helpful looking instruments assembled, Kelvin was finished with breakfast and waiting for her.

“Are you sure you’re up for this?” he asked. “I could take Terrell with me.”

“And you both know what a car stereo looks like?” she asked. “And how to remove it? It’s okay, Kelvin. I’ll be fine, really.”

“All right then,” he said, handing her a breather. He picked up the pack and slung it over his shoulder. “Let’s go.”

“Good luck,” Terrell called after them.

It might have just been Hannah’s imagination, but the Myste seemed thicker than usual as they followed the trail. The trail seemed longer, narrower too. Maybe it was just the oppressive silence and the eternal gloom. She shivered and stayed close behind Kelvin. Finally they reached the spot where they needed to leave the trail.

Hannah was so busy looking around nervously that she didn’t realize Kelvin had stopped until she walked right into him. Reflexively he put his arms out to catch her and they stood there for a few seconds, staring into each other’s eyes. Kelvin’s arms tightened a fraction and her breath caught, but instead of the kiss she expected, he gently released her. She felt like grinding her teeth in frustration.

“This is it,” he told her unnecessarily, stepping back. “We’ll need the breathers from here.”

Although she felt more like smacking the back of his dense head, she watched him put his breather on and then followed suit. Holding on tight to the guide wire, she followed him into the Myste. The path twisted and turned and if she didn’t know better she’d swear it was longer. At last they reached the wreck.

“My poor jeep!” Hannah exclaimed, through the breather.

It was little more than a rusted out shell. Kelvin passed her a pair of heavy gloves to protect her hands as they carefully peeled back the sagging roof. The interior seemed to be still relatively untouched by the Myste, the seats and the dash board anyway. Hannah nodded to Kelvin and tried to open the door. It seemed to be rusted shut; she tried again but it was stuck fast.

Kelvin motioned her to the side so he could try his luck. Muscles rippling beneath his shirt he gave a mighty heave and wrenched the door not only open, but off the hinges entirely. Hannah’s eyes widened in appreciation.

He handed her the tools and she ducked into the jeep to remove the stereo system. She’d laughed at Sara at the time, but now she was grateful that Sara had sweet-talked that same teenager into installing a similar system in her own car. Hannah had watched him do it and now had a vague idea of how to remove it with the least amount of damage.

Once she’d removed the screws and disconnected the wiring, Hannah passed the stereo to Kelvin who placed it carefully in a protective bag. On a whim she popped open the glove box. The contents were untouched by the Myste and Hannah removed another half-dozen CDs and a personal CD player. She handed these to Kelvin as well, who looked at them curiously before covering them carefully in more protective wrapping and stowing them in his pack.

He waited patiently while she had one long, last look at her last link with her old life, then gently took her hand and led her back into the Myste. Hannah was not the only one who felt the Myste was thicker, Kelvin noticed it too. They only went a short distance when he stopped suddenly.

“What is it?” Hannah asked, voice muffled by her breather.

“The guide wire, it’s not right.”

“What do you mean it’s not right?”

The desire to protect her warred with the desire to be honest. “I have what my Aunt calls an over developed sense of direction, that’s why she prefers me to lead any forays into the Myste when Raynor isn’t available.”

“And what’s your sense of direction telling you right now?”

“That we’re going the wrong way.”

“What should we do?”

He hesitated. “I’m probably wrong, the Myste can be very disorienting. We should keep going.”

They went a few more yards and the guide wire grew lax in their hands. A few steps further and Kelvin stopped again. “It’s been cut.”

“What?”

“The guide wire,” he turned to show her the loose end. “It’s been cut.”

“But why? Who would do something like this?”

The roiling Myste seemed more oppressive, a shiver went down her spine at the thought of someone trying to deliberately strand them out here.

“I don’t know.”

Magickal Mayhem

In honour of finishing the edits on Magickal Mayhem (AKA Blood Ties, AKA Wandering Wizards) I thought I’d post an excerpt from it today. It’s still a mess, and it’s still too long, but it’s getting there.

Now that I won’t be so single minded about editing, I’m hoping to get back to my daily prompts – it’s been a while since I’ve done any of them and I kind of miss them. The best part about that would be I can start posting something fresh here each week.

Anyway, to set this scene up . . . Howard figured out a way to transport himself to the magickal realm, accidentally pulling Ellen along with them. They ended up in the Darkwood Elven Realm and, along with the bard Sebastian and the elven guard Kaelan, are on their way to meet up with Jessica and Dominic. As you’ll see from this scene (I hope) Ellen and Kaelan are developing a bit of a mutual crush.

Stretching upwards, she whispered to Epona, “Do you think you could move up beside Kaelan please?”

Epona’s ear twitched and she whickered, but her stride lengthened.

“Thank you,” Ellen whispered.

Kaelan looked over at her in surprise. “Is anything wrong?”

“No,” Ellen said, trying to control her blush response. “I was just curious about the Wild Woods Realm. Is it like the Darkwood Forest Realm?”

“No,” he shook his head. “For one thing it is much smaller and there is no city as there is in Darkwood, just a handful of villages and a town in the center. Truthfully, it has been a long time since I have been there.”

“You don’t visit your family there?”

“The visits became fewer as I became older. There never seemed to be time.”

Ellen was trying to picture Kaelan as a child. She’d bet he was just as cute as a little kid. Elf. Whatever.

“Didn’t your mother’s family ever visit you in Darkwood?”

“My mother’s family did not wish her to marry my father, despite the fact he would be able to provide well for her. To marry meant she would leave them.”

“But love will out,” Ellen guessed.

He glanced over at her. “It did indeed. They have been very happy and my mother never regretted her decision to follow her heart.” Smiling, he faced forward again. “My father says they met when he was delivering a set of silver gauntlets to the lord of the Wild Woods Realm. There was a festival and he was invited to stay over for it. Mother was with a group of young women who kept fawning over him, supposedly because he was from outside the realm. Mother was the worst of the lot and wouldn’t leave him alone until he danced with her. After that she was determined to make him hers and chased off every other woman who approached. Apparently the magic was strong in her blood. By the end of the evening he truly was hers, heart and soul.”

Ellen laughed. “And what does your mother say?”

“Ah. Mother claims this cheeky apprentice silversmith noticed the setting up for the festival and wheedled an invitation from the lord of the realm, who gave it to him only because he was so impressed by the quality of his work. He was making such a nuisance of himself, pestering all the young women for dances, that she took pity on her friends and made the supreme sacrifice of dancing with him herself. By the end of the festival he proved his way with silver also included a silver tongue, because he sweet-talked her into running away with him.”

“And which story do you believe to be true?”

“The one that my grandmother tells, that my mother noticed my father lurking on the fringes of the merry-makers and, feeling sorry for him, went over to see if she could convince him to join in. From the moment their eyes met they were lost to each other, and my grandmother knew she had lost her daughter, but gained a son.”

“I think I like your grandmother’s version best,” Ellen said with a smile.

“And your parents?” Kaelan asked, genuinely interested. “You said they were from very different cultures, how did they meet?”

“Now that’s a story in itself,” she said. “They were friends growing up – their parents lived next door to each other.”

Kaelan nodded. “Ah. So they knew from the beginning they were meant to be together.”

“Actually, no. My father spent his senior year in Japan, studying the martial arts with one of his uncles. My mother went off to university where she became involved with one of her professors. She was very young, and far away from home, and he swept her off her feet. They had an affair and when she ended up pregnant he married her.”

“Your father is not your mother’s husband?”

“He is, but it happened later.” Ellen had to smile at his confused look. “Mom finished school right before she gave birth to twin boys. There was a lot of friction between her and George, her first husband. He wanted her to stay home and look after the boys, she wanted to put her degree to good use. Before she could find a job in her field – art restoration – she found out she was pregnant again.”

“How many siblings do you have?” he asked in surprise.

“Four – two sets of twin brothers.”

He shook his head in disbelief. “Elves bear only one child at a time, and we are not a prolific race. My mother is considered a wonder for having three children.”

“I don’t think mom was really happy having the boys so close together. In fact, from what I can gather it wasn’t a happy marriage at all. But it didn’t last long. She was still pregnant with the second set of twins when her husband died unexpectedly. She ended up moving back home with her parents – who were thrilled to have a houseful of children.”

“Children are a blessing,” Kaelan murmured, “no matter the circumstances.”

“That’s exactly what my grandparents believed,” she said with a smile. “My father returned from Japan just after the second set of twins were born, fell in love with her all over again, and they were married a year later.”

“He must be quite the man, to take on four children not his own.”

“He is,” she said proudly. She couldn’t help but wonder what he’d think if he could see her now. Would he be proud? Or appalled?

Desert of the Seven Realms

The third realm featured in the opening trilogy to my Seven Realms series is the Desert Realm. It also features the third of my trio of friends, Taylor. Sadly, Taylor has no last name and I don’t know much about her. She spends most of her story with amnesia. This is the opening of her story. It’s unedited, and I’ve already spotted a minor problem with it. LOL

The sound of a bird screeching brought Taylor awake with a start. She sat up cautiously, expecting a shaft of hangover pain, but nothing happened. Not that she was trying to borrow trouble, but if she drank enough wine that she passed out on some beach somewhere, why didn't she have a hangover? It was as puzzling as the fact she'd passed out in the first place. They'd only had two bottles of wine between the three of them.

"Somebody must have spiked one of those bottles," she said, getting to her feet. "It's the only possible--where the heck am I?"

With the sand beneath her she'd assumed she'd wandered onto the beach at the resort about half a mile from the cottage, but looking around all she could see was sand. There was no hotel, no water, no ... anything. Just sand.

Taylor sat down again. She must still be drunk. The nearest desert was hundreds of miles away. There was no way she could just magically appear in the middle of one.

Magic! What was it that little old lady they'd helped said? Something about being a fairy godmother and no one believing in such things any more.

There was more ... she remembered sitting by the fire, passing the bottle of wine around, and she'd been just about to get up to get the makings for some s'mores when Eva spotted the evening star.

When they saw the star they heard the old woman's voice again: "... whatever wish you make tonight upon that star will come true. But mind it's a personal wish, something frivolous that will benefit only you. None of that world peace nonsense. You will be touched by magic."

"Touched by magic," she repeated. They decided then and there to wish for their perfect mates. "No way!" she said, a little louder.

If there was one thing Taylor loved, it was old black and white movies, the older the better. And her absolute favourites were the silent movies. Douglas Fairbanks, Lillian Gish, Buster Keaton ... but the one she'd had the biggest crush on was Rudolph Valentino in The Sheik. So without even thinking about it, when it came time to make her wish she wished to be swept away by a desert prince.

"This can't be real," she said, getting to her feet for a better look around. There were no deserts in Canada, nothing even resembling a desert in the woods she had started out in. But there was no denying the fact that she was in the middle of an unknown desert. No sheik in sight, she was utterly alone.

It was colder than she expected, but she knew that wouldn't last for long once the sun rose. She needed to find shelter or she'd fry out here. Pivoting in a circle she was able to make out shadows in the landscape. Rocks maybe, or scrubby trees. As her eyes adjusted fully to the dark she spotted a faint glow in the distance. A town would be too much to hope for, but with any luck it would be a camp or an oasis with someone to help her.

Taylor thought she was in pretty good shape, but after what seemed like hours of slogging through the sand, having to compensate with the way it shifted beneath her feet, she was more exhausted than she'd ever been in her life. She was close enough to see the palm trees, a couple of tents pitched near the crumbled ruin of a wall, and a large fire, but her mouth was too dry from the desert air to call out.

Doggedly she kept moving forward until she reached the outer set of trees. Holding onto the nearest trunk for support, she studied the camp while mustering the energy for the last few steps. There was a group of seven individuals, dressed in white robes with red agals holding their keffiyehs in place, sitting close to the fire. They could have stepped right out of a Valentino movie, or maybe Lawrence of Arabia. She wasn't close enough to see their features clearly, but they seemed to pay special deference to the man in the middle - probably their leader.

Just as she was about step forward several more, similarly dressed men streamed into the firelight. The ones sitting around the fire jumped to their feet. Taylor could hear shouting, but wasn't close enough to understand what was being said. She didn't need to, to figure out what was going on. The six original men surrounded the seventh, but they were hopelessly outnumbered. Curved knives, or maybe they were swords, flashed in the firelight and the seventh man was left standing alone.

Fist to her mouth to keep from crying out, Taylor sank into a crouch, making herself as small as possible as she pressed closer to the tree.

"Where is the stone, old man?" the leader of the invaders demanded.

The old man drew himself up proudly. "Where you will never find it. I have made my choice known to one and all. Not even this betrayal can change that."

"Don't be so sure," the man said, and then almost casually ran him through with his sword.

Taylor squeezed her eyes shut, but it was too late. She would never forget the sight of the sword being withdrawn from the old man, bright with his blood. When she could finally bring herself to open her eyes again, she looked around in shock. There was no trace of the invaders.

Drawing in a shaky breath, she got to her feet. No matter what else was going on, it didn't change the fact that she was in desperate need of water. And there was the clear outline of a well just beyond the old man's body.

She could do this. Her survival depended on it. She would go over to that well and have a good, long drink and when she recovered some of her strength she'd figure out a way to bury those poor men. Then she'd rest in one of the two tents and figure out things from there. It was a good plan, she was just having a hard time getting her feet to move.

"You can do this," she told herself, her voice sounding harsh to her ears.

Giving herself a shake, she forced herself to move towards the well, giving the bodies beside the fire a wide berth. Thank god someone had been careless and left a pail with a length of rope attached to it beside the well, otherwise she would have had no way of drawing water up. She dipped both hands into the pail and splashed her face, then cupped her hands to drink. Water had never tasted so good.

Taylor almost choked on a mouthful of water when a moan sounded behind her. She whirled, nearly losing the bucket. The moan sounded again.

"Oh my god!"

It was the old man. She went and knelt down beside him, afraid to touch him for fear of making things worse. His eyes opened; he seemed unsurprised to see her.

"What can I do?"

"You are the one," he whispered. "I have seen this ... too late."

"It's not too late," she said desperately. But there was a distinct odour in the air that told her the knife had sliced into his bowel. Even if she had some way of summoning help, it would not arrive in time.

"Tell him," he whispered.

"Tell who? That man who stabbed you?"

His hand shot up and gripped her wrist. "When you see him ... tell him that I was betrayed. The stone ... the stone is in the hands of the mother, covered by her tears."

Taylor tried to gently pry his hand off her wrist. "We need to get you some help. I--" She broke off what she was about to say as his hand suddenly went slack. A shiver went through her and she gently placed his hand on his chest.

There was a whisper of movement behind her, her only warning. As she started to turn, something struck her on the side of the head. There was a brilliant burst of pain and then everything went dark.

Forest of the Seven Realms

The second in the three part beginning to my Seven Realms series takes place in the Forest Realm (as you may have surmised from the title of this post). This story centers around Fiona (no last name as yet). Fiona has a degenerative eye condition and has known all her life she’ll someday lose her sight, but it’s a progressive thing and is supposed to happen gradually.

Fiona could hear birds chirping. She opened her eyes, frowning when she realized it was still dark out. Blinking rapidly she sat up, feeling around for her glasses. She could feel dirt and leaves and small sticks, but no glasses. They were heavy enough that she'd know if she was wearing them. God, she hoped she hadn't lost them, they were expensive as hell.

The last thing she remembered was sharing a bottle of wine around the camp fire with her friends. Or was it two bottles of wine? It certainly wasn't enough alcohol to cause her to wander off by herself into the woods. She was more careful than that.

Wait, there was something else ... that old woman they helped earlier in the day. What was her name? Estella? Esperanza? No ... Esmeralda, that was it!

They saw a falling star and for some weird reason they could hear the old woman's voice. Something about being given a wish to use on a star ... "To reward your kindness I promise you this: whatever wish you make tonight upon that star will come true. But mind it's a personal wish, something frivolous that will benefit only you. None of that world peace nonsense."

After hearing Esmeralda's voice the three of them had laughed it off, deciding to wish for their dream lovers to come to life, or some such rubbish. Fiona didn't know what the others wished for, but she'd always had a thing for the elves in The Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings movies, so it seemed only natural to wish for an adventure to help a dispossessed Elfin lord who would fall madly in love with her.

Fiona snorted. "As if."

The birds continued to chirp and she could hear a breeze rustling the leaves above her. She tilted her head back to look up and listen. How deep into the woods had she traveled? Surely she should see at least a hint of the stars or moonlight. Why was the dark so all encompassing?

Squelching down a sudden frisson of panic, she got to her feet. It was just clouds, she told herself firmly. There was a storm front moving in, that's all. Dark, heavy clouds were obscuring the moon and stars. It happened all the time.

Then why were the birds singing, a niggling little voice asked her. And where was there no smell of moisture in the air?

"Taylor? Eva?" she called, ignoring the voice. If she was out here then her friends couldn't be too far away. "Guys? I hope one of you has a flashlight, it's dark as hell over here. Wherever here is. Guys?"

All at once she remembered her watch. Raising her wrist to eye level, she pressed the little button that would activate the light. Nothing happened. Holding the watch to her ear, she listened to the faint ticking and then tried again. Still nothing.

"Guys? I'm in real trouble here."

Fiona shivered, despite the warm breeze. This time she was unable ignore the panic starting. Hands held out in front of her, she shuffled forward a few steps, stopping dead when she felt the sun on her face.

"No," she whispered. "It's too soon. I'm not ready."

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Finnovarr paused to get his bearings. This is what came of taking a shortcut. First he lost his horse, and now ... it was a shameful thing for an elf to admit, but he appeared to be lost. Somehow he'd left the narrow trail he'd been following and now he had two choices: continue in the direction he was going and hope he picked up the trail again, or retrace his path back the way he'd come.

Having no idea how far back he'd wandered from the trail, retracing his path was out of the question. He'd already been out here too long, he couldn't afford the time. As long as he kept heading east, he should still be able to find the shrine in time.

A flash of blue caught his eye and he frowned. Too big for a bird, but what else could it be? He became more cautious, keeping watch for anything untoward. Then he scented it.

Finn's head snapped up and went on full alert. Magic. He could smell it on the air. Why would he be smelling magic out here?

He found out a few feet later when he stepped into a clear space in the trees. There, in a shaft of sunlight, a woman slumped next to a tree.

Her long curly hair shone with a fiery glow in the sunlight. The style of her clothing was strange, dark blue trousers and a brighter blue, the blue he'd glimpsed through the trees, strangely designed tunic that clung to her like a second skin. She reeked of magic but it was fading.

He stood in the shadows provided by the trees, watching her. She appeared to be asleep or perhaps passed out from exhaustion; there were traces of tears on her cheeks.

Whatever trouble she was in, he couldn't afford to get involved. He was on a mission; he didn't have time. And yet he lingered, unable to just leave her there.

Jungle of the Seven Realms

A couple of weeks ago I shared the prologue to my Seven Realms trilogy. When I actually get down to brass tacks with this series, I will be running the prologue in each of the first three books, rewriting it slightly to focus on the main character’s viewpoint. For the rest of the series (seven realms, seven stories) I’ll have to come up with something else, just to keep the continuity.

In any case, this scene takes place right after the prologue from a couple of weeks ago.

Evangeline Covington couldn't remember the last time she'd had such a wicked hangover. She groaned, but didn't feel up to opening her eyes yet. It wasn't like they'd had that much to drink last night, two bottles of wine between the three of them - she must be getting old.

She felt damp. There was something digging into her back and the distinct smell of greenery in the air. She had a sneaking suspicion of where she was. Cracking her eyes open slightly, she slammed them tightly shut again, her suspicions confirmed. They hadn't made it back to the cabin last night - she'd slept outside.

"Fi? Taylor? You guys awake?" Even the sound of her own voice made her wince.

There was no answer. With another groan she rolled to her side so the sun wasn't in her face and tried opening her eyes again.

Frowning, she stared at the bright red flower in front of her nose. She didn't remember there being flowers blooming in the woods, especially not such exotic looking ones. Feeling a slight chill, she levered herself into a sitting position and took a good look around.

"What the hell?"

Hangover forgotten, Eva got to her feet and stared around in disbelief. This was not the woods full of pine trees surrounding the cabin on the lake. In fact, this wasn't a forest at all, it was more like a jungle.

Several different varieties of palm and other exotic trees towered upwards, hung with trailing vines. The undergrowth seemed to be filled with broad-leafed shrubs and ferns. An endless variety of colorful blossoms rioted around her.

Eva staggered, reaching out to steady herself by holding on to the trunk of a palm.

"Where am I?" she whispered.

More importantly, how did she get here? The last thing she remembered was sitting around the camp fire with Fiona and Taylor. They were drinking wine and made a toast to friendship. Then she'd spotted the evening star and . . .

"Esmeralda!"

She remembered hearing the old woman's voice, something about making a wish. They'd treated it like a joke and decided to wish for their perfect mate.

All her life Eva had loved adventure stories, especially ones set in exotic locations. Her favorites were by the old romantic fantasy writers - H. Rider Haggard, Edgar Rice Burroughs, A. A. Merritt - with their tales of lost cities set in the jungles of the world. In her deepest fantasies, ones she'd never shared with even Fiona or Taylor, she'd dreamed of being swept away by her very own jungle lord.

"This is crazy!" she said firmly. "Hello? Anyone?"

People didn't just wish for something like that and have it happen. Someone was playing a joke on her. A very bad, practical joke. There must have been something in the wine that knocked her out so someone, or a couple of someones, could transport her to the nearest zoo and leave her in the middle of the African exhibit.

Eva leaned against the palm tree for support. Which was just as likely as being transported to an actual jungle. What else had Esmeralda told them?

"I'm a fairy godmother, but no one believes in magic anymore, more's the pity."

"Magic," Eva repeated, trying the word on for size. Esmeralda was right. People didn't believe in magic any more. Maybe if they did she wouldn't have such a hard time believing in it now.

A cool breeze swept through the jungle and she shivered, her damp clothing amplifying the chill. The tops of the trees were starting to wave and when she looked up she caught a glimpse of dark clouds building.

"This is so not fair!"

She needed shelter from the oncoming storm and fast, judging by the smell of rain in the air. With any luck she could curl up and go to sleep, awakening to find this was nothing more than an alcohol induced, very vivid, dream.

"Focus Eva, shelter first and then worry about everything else."

But shelter where? She looked around once more but nothing seemed promising. If this were a story she'd be able to just shimmy up one of the trees to see if there were a house or town nearby. Heck, at this point she'd even take a thatched native hut, shelter was shelter. But this wasn't a story. There was no way she'd be able to climb one of those smooth barked trees and in any case, the sun that had awoken her was being devoured by fast moving dark clouds.

There was a path in front of her - it must lead to somewhere - and she began to jog along it. The storm was coming parallel to it; she didn't even know whether the path was north/south or east/west. She just prayed it would lead to shelter.

Eva felt very tiny as tried to keep the path in sight - everything was so big here! The trees, the ferns, the flowers, she had no idea things grew so big in the jungle. Or maybe this was a rainforest. To her chagrin, she really didn't know what the difference was.

The palm trees thinned out a bit, giving way to a wider assortment of trees, most hung with vines. They were bigger than anything she'd ever seen before and even bigger were some kind of rough barked trees with enormous roots that humped out of the ground around them.

The wind was whipping the brush around her into a frenzy and it grew darker still. Eva could barely see where she was going, unaware that she'd left the meagre trail. Stumbling over one of the massive roots, she lay where she'd fallen, trying to catch her breath, and then crawled forward into the darker patch of blackness near the trunk.

She found herself in a hollow in the tree, large enough that she could curl up in it easily just as the first fat drops of rain began pelting down. There was a carpet of dead leaves beneath her, and debris that she was just as happy she couldn't make out in the dark. Obviously some kind of animal had used this hidey hole in the past - she counted herself lucky that she hadn't run into whatever it was.

The rain poured down steadily, but without any accompanying thunder and lightning. She was safe and dry inside the hollow tree, though a trifle chilled. The sweater she'd brought down to the campfire was presumably still draped on the back of her chair and though her jeans were adequate protection for her lower half, the sleeveless silk blouse, while a beautiful shade of red did very little to keep her upper half warm.

Eva wrapped her hands around her knees, shivering in the dark. Reality settled in like a heavy weight around her shoulders. She'd been left in the middle of nowhere with no food, no water, and no idea which way civilization was. This wasn't an adventure, it was a nightmare.

Soothed by the sound of the rain, mentally and emotionally exhausted, Eva slept.

The Seven Realms

Once upon a time I conceived an idea for a book. It was about three women, friends, who have a run-in with a fairy godmother who grants them a wish. Treating it as a joke, they decide to wish to meet their dream men and end up in the magickal world of the Seven Realms. Each of them land in a different realm where they have many adventures and, yes, end up with the men of their dreams.

While I did make a healthy start to each of the three stories, I realized that the story should span a trilogy, not just a three-in-one story, and if I was doing that I might as well go the whole hog and do a book for each of the Seven Realms.

So I did a bit of back story on the fairy godmother and the prologue that will be included in each of the three books. Then I did some background on the men of the Seven Realms and a brief rundown of the realms themselves. Unfortunately, I had a lot of other stuff going on at the same time so I kind of abandoned them.

Today’s excerpt is from the prologue.

"Pull over!" Fiona ordered.

They'd been passing through the small town at a leisurely pace, looking for somewhere to pick up some supplies, when she made her demand.

"What? What is it?" Taylor asked, even as she pulled the battered Honda Civic alongside the curb.

"You expect to see this kind of thing in the city . . ." Fiona muttered, already opening the door.

"What's going on? Are we there?” The sleepy question came from the back seat.

"I don't know what's going on, Eva, Fiona just -- oh, I see what her problem is. C'mon, I think she's going to need some help."

The two young women exited the car to follow in their friend's wake as she confronted a group of teenagers who were hassling a little old lady.

"What's the matter with you kids?" Fiona was yelling. "Go white wash a fence or something."

They were stereotypical teens, shaggy hair ranging from dirty blond to dark brown, wearing long sleeved tee-shirts despite the summer heat, jeans sagging loosely from their hips. They'd surrounded the elderly woman and were taking turns plucking at her shawl, causing her to drop the bag of groceries she was carrying.

Coke bottle glasses sliding down her nose, Fiona waded into the thick of them, pulling them away from their victim.

"Oh, just chill, would you? We're just having a little fun."

"I think you've had enough fun for one day. Now get out of here before I call the cops. And pull up your pants!" she yelled after them as the threat of the police sent them running.

Taylor and Eva were already picking up the woman's groceries that had spilled. By a miracle the bag itself had survived.

"Are you all right ma'am?" Fiona asked gently.

"Hoodlums, the lot of them," the old woman said, shaking her head. "But no matter, what goes around comes around."

"I think we found everything," Taylor said, holding the bag of groceries. "Do you live nearby? Can I carry these for you?"

"Such nice young ladies," the woman said, beaming. "I live just over there." She pointed towards a side street and without another word, headed in that direction.

Taylor looked at her two friends, then shrugged and followed, Fiona and Eva trailing behind.

The woman stopped at a neatly kept, white frame house. Lush rose bushes grew on either side of the covered porch that was just wide enough for a pair of rocking chairs on one side and a porch swing on the other.

"Wait here," they were instructed. Taking the bag of groceries from Taylor, the woman disappeared inside the house.

"What should we do?" Eva asked in a quiet voice.

"I guess we should wait," Fiona said. "Maybe she wants our help filling out a police report."

They didn't wait long, the woman returned carrying a tray with three glasses and a pitcher of lemonade, so cold it was already beaded with moisture. "Sit," she ordered.

Exchanging somewhat amused glances, they sat - Taylor and Eva on the porch swing, Fiona in one of the rocking chairs. The old woman poured the lemonade and passed them each a glass before sitting down herself in the other rocking chair.

"It's not just anyone who'd help out a stranger," she said. "Such kindness in today's world deserves a reward."

Fiona was already shaking her head. "We didn't help for a reward, we did it because it was the right thing to do."

"Nonetheless, I'm bound to even the scales. It's one of my duties as a fairy godmother."

Taylor and Eva looked at each other, then back at the woman. "Fairy godmother?" Eva asked.

"That's right." She nodded vigorously, her grey curls bobbing wildly. "Esmeralda Wicks, fairy godmother. Though not many believe in such things any more, more's the pity."

Fiona cleared her throat. "Truly, Esmeralda, there's nothing to balance."

Esmeralda eyed her shrewdly. "You think I'm a dotty old woman, don't you?" When they made a half-hearted protest she waved her hand to stop them. "That's all right. You'll learn different soon enough. Now listen carefully." She leaned forward in her chair.

You don't believe in my magic now, but you will. Tonight, you will gather around a fire. And when you look up into the sky you will see a very special star, the wishing star. To reward your kindness I promise you this. Whatever wish you make tonight upon that star will come true. But mind it's a personal wish, something frivolous that will benefit only you. None of that world peace nonsense. You will be touched by magic.

Fiona blinked and looked at the empty glass in her hand.

"A glass of lemonade seems a poor repayment for your kindness, but if you're sure I can do nothing else . . ."

"No . . . I . . ." Giving her head a little shake, Fiona smiled and set her glass on the tray. "The lemonade really hit the spot. I wish we could stay, but we have a bit of a drive ahead of us and we still have to pick up a few groceries."

Taylor and Eva both also smiled and thanked the woman for the lemonade and then the trio walked back to the car.

"I have the strangest feeling I'm forgetting something," Eva said, once they were underway again.

"That's so weird," Taylor said. "I was just going to say the exact same thing."

"Well hopefully it's not anything that should be on our list," Fiona said, waving a piece of paper in the air. "We're only going to be at the cottage for three days, and I'm not wasting any of it making runs back into town."

The others made noises of agreement. They'd been planning this girls' weekend for months and finally their schedules aligned to make it a reality. With their busy schedules they were finding it harder and harder to connect and they were determined to make the most of their long weekend.

Firestorm

Oh, no! We’re at the end of my NaNo experience. Whatever am I going to post after this week? LOL

Ha! Do you really think the NaNo novels are the only unfinished novels in my repertoire? I may have to go digging for some of them, but trust me, I’ve got several more up my sleeve. ;-)

But in any case, today brings us up to NaNo 2020 where I chose one of my older story ideas, a straight fantasy adventure called Firestorm. This actually started out as a rather long short story called The Unmasking of Brand, more swords and sorcery than anything else. I had hoped to incorporate or expand on this original story, reworking it for NaNo, but I never got that far. I got bogged down in backstory, so much so that I’d say a good 80% of the book is back story.

Anyway, the excerpt I’ve chosen is from the very beginning and tells the tale of how the main character’s parents met. As always, this is unedited.

They say the people of Witch Hills were created when Beauty mated with Magic. But it could also be said they were too ugly to be borne, hidden as they were behind their masks and veils. To be sure they had little use for outsiders, and rarely ventured beyond their own borders.

So it was with surprise the warlord Rankin received a summons to the city of Alandria, the largest of the cities of Witch Hills. He went, accompanied by twelve of his best knights, curious to see what the people of Witch Hills would need from a warrior. From all accounts, the Witchers, as they were called, were fierce themselves and needed no one’s protection.

Even the cities of Witch Hills were beautiful to behold. They were built of white stone – tall, slender towers, graceful arches spanning deep crevasse, gardens spilling over low walls and waterfalls misting the air. While the men accompanying him looked around in wonder, muttering to themselves, Rankin remained impassive.

The audience room was not overly large, made of the same white stone as the rest of the city, only this stone sparkled with flecks of silver. It was brightly lit, but the source for that light was unseen. The men with Rankin muttered nervously about magic, but quieted with a glance from their leader. The walls were hung with finely woven tapestries, the brilliant colours showing mostly landscapes and fantastical beasts.

King Theron sat at one end of the room on a throne made of blue glass. Even seated he gave the impression of being tall. His shoulders were broad and his long dark hair was threaded with silver. He was dressed in black armour that shone in the light.

Two smaller thrones flanked him. The one on the left was of a dark rose, and held a tall, slender woman. She wore a stiffly formal dress of blue, the same colour as the king’s throne. Her hair was unadorned, falling in an inky waterfall past her waist, almost to the floor.

The throne on the right was of smoky grey and had a younger seeming man. He, too, had black hair, although his only brushed past his shoulders, and was dressed all in black, but in leather armour and silk. The two men wore masks, the woman wore a veil.

“Welcome, Rankin of Varellia,” the king said when Rankin was halfway to the throne. “You prompt response to our request is met with gratitude.”

Rankin waited until he was only a few feet from the throne before stopping to answer. He bowed and said, “I am grateful for your summons, and I admit to some curiosity as to its purpose.”

“I am a man of few words, so I’ll get right to the point. The nomads of the wastelands to the north have long harried our borders. For years they have been insignificant, a minor irritation like fleas on a dog. However there has been a cult rising in their midst, one dedicated to the Ice Lords.”

“I have heard of this cult,” Rankin said. “I agree that it is becoming a growing concern to many of the surrounding kingdoms.”

“I wish to form an alliance to deal with this matter.”

“An alliance you say?” Rankin’s gaze narrowed. “And what have you to offer in exchange for this alliance?”

“Ah, what indeed?” King Theron got to his feet. “I offer you my hospitality that we may speak of this further.”

“Accepted,” Rankin said readily. He would have been a fool not to accept. As well as rumours of the magic and great beauty of the inhabitants of Witch Hills, they were also rumoured to be incredibly wealthy.

He ordered his men to stand down and follow the servants to a less formal dinner, while he followed another to a room where he was to refresh himself. A bath had been drawn and fresh clothing laid out for him. He fingered the fine cloth with appreciation. Obviously armour was not welcome at the dinner table. The dark blue trousers were a perfect fit, as was the tunic with gold trim to go over them. Finishing the outfit were a pair of low heeled boots of dark blue leather. There was another servant waiting for him when he was finished, who led him to a small, but elegant, dining room. A fire had been laid in the fireplace at one end, and the long table was set for four. The king and the young man from the throne room were already seated, rising when he entered the room.

“This seems a far more fitting way of greeting one we hope will be a friend,” King Theron said. “May I present to you my son, Orin.”

The king and his son had also changed out of their armour. The king was still dressed in black, trousers tucked into half boots with a silver trimmed tunic much like the one Rankin was wearing. Orin was wearing a similar outfit, save his was in a smoky grey and there was no ornamentation on the tunic.

Neither man was wearing his mask and Rankin would have had to been blind not to be struck by their beauty. Their features were perfectly symmetrical, high cheekbones, piercing blue eyes, lashes any woman would have envied. Rankin gave a start when he realized he’d been staring.

“I am honoured to meet you, Orin,” he said. “Word of your prowess with the bow has reached even my poor castle.”

The eyes that had been staring at him so indifferently suddenly brightened. “I have heard that you have developed a cross bow that can be used from horseback. Perhaps we can speak of this at a later time.”

“It would be my pleasure.”

“We but wait upon my daughter, Sharina,” Theron told him.

No sooner had the words left his mouth than the door to the dining was opened and a servant announced, “The Lady Sharina.”

She swept into the room in a cloud of a floral scent that went straight to Rankin’s head. She was beautiful, the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen. It only took that one look and he was utterly lost.

“Pray let us be seated. I know the royal cook has spent the greater part of the day preparing this feast,” Sharina said.

Rankin sat automatically. Her voice was like bells, no, more like a choir of angels. He could sustain himself just listening to the sound.

The meal was delicious, but Rankin tasted very little of it. Words were spoken, but he had no idea what was said. Most of the meal he spent staring at Sharina while trying to make it look like he was not staring. Had he been able to pay attention to anything else, he might have noticed the look of satisfaction on Theron’s face.

“You will forgive me,” Sharina said when the meal was finished. “But I have several small matters to attend to. I hope I shall see you again before you leave,” she said to Rankin.

He rose when she did, bending low over her hand. Kissing it, he said, “I will make sure that you do.”

She was gone and he suddenly felt bereft. It was all he could do not to follow. Theron summoned the servants to clear the table and had them return with a bottle of wine.

“Now, let us talk of an alliance,” he said.

Shattered

My second try at NaNo 2018 was much more successful and I completed the challenge with the novel, Shattered. It’s a science fiction/romance/adventure. Here’s the blurb I came up with for NaNo:

Ethan had it all – he was young, handsome, came from one of the wealthiest families in the quadrant – but he lacked a sense of purpose. Angry after a fight with his mother over the lack of direction in his life, he exceeds the recommended speed of his experimental air car and ends up in an accident leaving his face and body shattered.

After his release from the healing centre, Ethan sinks into a depression and decides to finish recuperating at the family vacation home on a distant moon. He spends far too much time brooding until the day the beautiful Bella makes an emergency landing on that same moon.

At first he’s loathe to reveal himself to her, but eventually they meet and she helps him recover both physically and, more importantly, emotionally. But Bella has a secret, one that will prevent them from having a life together. Now the race is on. Will Ethan find her before it’s too late, or will his heart be shattered?

It’s not quite finished yet, it needs a proper ending, and there’s one more scene that needs to take place a few chapters before that. This scene takes place after Ethan’s mother suggests he settle down and make something of himself. In response, Ethan throws a lavish party where he introduces a gold-digging fiancée. His mother does not stay long at the party.

Ethan was in a good mood, despite being slightly hungover, as he flew to his mother’s house the next day. His mother’s terse message that his presence was required promptly at the eleventh hour in her study was just part of the reason. Obviously his engagement had its desired effect, she was going to rescind her order that he get married and allow him to live his life as he chose.

The other reason for his good mood was the air car he was flying – it was a new, experimental model that he had used his own funds to invest in. The techs had warned him that there might still be a few bugs in it, but as far as he was concerned it was the sweetest thing he’d ever flown.

He noted the absence of Douglas’s land car without surprise. His mother wouldn’t want a witness to the rare occasion of having to back down from an argument. He made a mental note to take Douglas up in the C-47 –he’d change his brother’s mind about air cars versus land cars if it was the last thing he did. And the C-47 was just the air car to do it.

The air car touched down with a whisper and the canopy popped automatically. Ethan exited the craft and went into his mother’s house without pausing to knock – he was expected, so it wasn’t necessary.

He found his mother, as he expected, seated behind the big, natural wood desk in what had once been his father’s study. Now it was hers, and she ran the vast empire they had built together alone. Ethan almost felt a drop of compassion for her, and nearly regreted that they had been at logger heads so much over the past few months. Maybe all that would change after their talk.

He helped himself to the liquor set out on a serving cart and seated himself casually in the chair in front of his desk.“Well, mother. I’m here,” he said when she didn’t so much as look up at him.

“I can see that Ethan. Thank you for being on time.”

He could almost hear the unspoken, for a change, and frowned.

“In six month’s time I will be turning sixty years old. I find I’m beginning to grow tired, it is my desire to start passing the responsibilities of the empire to someone else.”

Ethan straightened up in his chair. Could she really be saying what he thought she was? Was she finally going to allow him to start making some of the major decisions of the company?

“You have until that time to prove to me that some of those responsibilities should go to you.”

“What?” Ethan was on his feet without realizing it.

“Sit down!” his mother barked.

Ethan sat.

“In the ten years since you expressed interest in the family business, what have you done?” She tapped a info pad and glanced down. “You’ve enjoyed living in one of the company’s apartments, rent free. You’ve had your choice of vehicles, again at the company’s expense. You’ve thrown parties, not to make contacts but for your own pleasure. And the expansions you’ve made have been to invest in the inventions and experiments of friends.”

“Some of them were good inventions, they made the company a profit,” Ethan mumbled.

“You have until my sixtieth birthday to prove to me and the board of directors that you are worthy of the Galliantro name and empire.”

“And if I don’t?” Ethan said numbly.

“If you don’t, then you will begin to pay your own way until such a time that you can prove yourself a useful, productive addition to the company.”

Ethan was on his feet again. “You can’t do that to me!”

“Of course I can,” his mother said calmly. “You know I would never make an idle threat.”

Fists clenched, Ethan spun on his heel and stalked out of the room, slamming the front door behind him as he left the house. Had he been able to see into his father’s study, he would have been shocked to see his mother sitting slumped in her chair, tears running down her face.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Pain. So much pain.

Ethan struggled to come fully awake but it was as though a great weight was holding him down.

Sirens, voices – too indistinct to make out individual words.

Movement, sending a fresh wave of agony through him. Ethan gave up the struggle to make sense of it all and let the darkness carry him away.

“Shouldn’t he be awake by now?”

Ethan started to swim out of the darkness, hearing his brother’s voice. I’m awake, he wanted to say, but his voice and his body wouldn’t obey his mental commands.

“Dr. Alexander said it should be any time now, but not to be worried if it takes longer than we expect.”

Mother, that was his mother’s voice. Why were his mother and brother both here? And why did they sound so worried.

“There! Did you see that?” Douglas asked, excitement in his voice.

“What?”

“I thought I saw his finger move.”

“I’ll call the nurse,” his mother said.

Nurse? Why would she need to call a nurse? Where was he?

There was a sound of movement, but before he could figure out what was happening, the pain hit again. Had he been able to, Ethan would have screamed.

“Ethan moved his finger.” His mother’s voice floated over top of the pain.

“It was probably just an involuntary nerve impulse,” a new voice said. There was a pause, then, “And no wonder. His pain blocker is wearing off. Just let me adjust this.”

Ethan felt a flood of warmth run through him, taking the excruciating pain with it.

“There, that should do it,” the strange woman’s voice said. “Dr. Alexander wants to keep him on pain blockers for another few days, to give the healing process a chance to get a good foothold, but then we’ll have to start weaning him off of them.”

“Is he going to be in a lot of pain?” Douglas asked.

“His injuries are very serious, he’s going to be a long time recovering.”

“Thank you nurse,” his mother said.

What injuries, Ethan wanted to ask. What’s happened to me? But he couldn’t break through the fog that was enveloping him. As he drifted off into the darkness again, the last thing he heard was his brother saying, “She never answered my question about the pain.”

Riftwalker

NaNo 2018 was another one where I started with one book but finished with a completely different one. In this case, the story I started with was called Riftwalker, and I had the vague idea of making into a series.

Here’s the blurb I had on NaNo:
The rifts have existed since the dawn of time. They are tears in dimensional space, making connections between worlds. Most people are unaware of the rifts but a few are not only able to sense them, they can travel through them (and take others with them). Those with the strongest affinity to the rifts are recruited as Guardians, assigned to guard the rifts that lead to the more vulnerable worlds from those who would try to exploit them. A very rare few can not only sense rifts and travel through them, but in extreme circumstances actually create temporary rifts.

This is the story of what happens to a woman on the run who accidentally stumbles through a rift, and the Guardian who finds her.

Like Knightsong, I realized it was a little too complicated try completing for NaNo, but I was at 9,000 words before I gave up. Today’s excerpt is the opening for this novel.

Mallory tried, unsuccessfully, to push the panic down to better concentrate on getting her breathing under control as she ran. Maybe leaving the path hadn't been the smartest idea after all. She was making so much noise pushing through the brush that she couldn't tell if her pursuers were gaining or falling behind.

If she got out of this she swore she'd never take a shortcut through the park again, even it if did shave twenty minutes off her walk home. She'd been in a hurry though; she hadn't meant to work so late but there was something funny about the account she'd been working on and she wanted to document it to bring it to Mr. Addison's attention in the morning. Now she just prayed she'd survive until morning.

Thank God she was in the habit of changing into running shoes for the walk home. She wouldn't have got far in heels, nor in her stocking feet. Now she wished she'd worn something more practical to work today, like a pair of dark pants and sweater instead of the bright yellow dress the men chasing her could probably see for miles.

She flinched as another low branch struck her across the face. It was so dark she could barely see enough to avoid running straight into a tree. She needed to get her bearings; did she dare slow down? A gunshot cut through the harsh sound of her breathing and the wind in the trees, making up her mind for her.

Oh, God! She was going to die! And all because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

She'd cut through the park hundreds of times without seeing another soul. This time she passed the fountain and went around the bend in the cobblestone path and there they were, three men in suits and two hulking brutes in leather. One of the men she’d recognized right away. The second one took a moment for her to place and when she did she stopped in her tracks. What was the CEO of the accounting firm she worked for doing meeting a known mob boss in the middle of the park at night?

The third man chose that moment to look up and Mallory knew she was in big trouble. She was already turning to run when she heard the yell of, “Get her!” Survival instincts took over and she sprinted back the way she'd come, then off into the woods that lined the path when it became obvious she'd never outrun the two goons in leather jackets. And now here she was, lost in the woods and running out of energy.

The park was never well used at the best of times and with the damp weather the few people that might have been around were safe and dry in their homes. There was no one to come to her rescue, even the cops seldom bothered to include the park in their patrols.

Suddenly, her foot slipped out from under her as it hit something soft. Mallory fell heavily onto her side, hands held out to break her fall, sliding through the slippery substance she'd landed in. The wind was knocked out of her and as she tried to catch her breath she could hear the sound of running water.

Damn it! She'd forgotten about the river that cut through this side of the park. She must be somewhere close to the bank. It had rained all day yesterday and part of today - she was lucky the water had receded and left only mud behind – she couldn't swim.

She grimaced as she pushed her hands into the mud to raise herself to a sitting position, trying not to imagine what kind of creepy, crawly creatures might be living in it. Moving her legs under her she winced as pain shot through one of her ankles.

Great. Not only was she lost and on the run from gun toting thugs, she was going to get caught because of an injured ankle and die covered in mud. Wait! The mud! Hadn't Arnold Schwarzenegger's character covered himself in mud for camouflage in the movie Predator? She'd watched a rerun of it just last week.

Surely sacrificing her favourite dress was worth it if it saved her life. It was probably already stained beyond saving anyway. With only a slight hesitation, she reached down and brought up handfuls of mud, shuddering slightly as she smoothed it down her chest and skirt. It took several precious minutes before she could bring herself to lie down on her back in the mud, rolling slightly back and forth to make sure she was fully covered.

Sitting up again, her breath caught as she heard voices in the distance. Now what she needed was a place to hide. Carefully, she got to her feet, stifling a gasp as she put her weight on her sore ankle. It hurt like hell, but it seemed like it would hold her weight.

She hobbled carefully towards the sound of running water and held onto a sapling for support as she reached the river bank. The river was running high and fast, but there was a faint path along it on this side. Vaguely she remembered there were rock formations further downstream. With any luck at all she could find a place to hide in the rocks. If she could make it that far.

The voices seemed to be drawing closer, although that could just be the effect of the sound on the water, but Mallory wasn't taking any chances. As quickly as she was able, she followed the path along the winding river, her ankle sending a shot of pain upwards with every step.

The trees began to thin out as a dark mass loomed up in front of her. Thank God! Now to find some place to curl up in. If she could hide here until morning, she just might make it out of this alive.

Of course the clouds chose that moment to roll in and cover the light from the moon. Mallory bit back a whimper of frustration. She was all but blind here. Hands held in front of her, she shuffled forward, barking the shin of her good leg on a low-lying boulder. She listed to the side and caught a quick flash of something glowing green that sent an electric tingle through her, and then she was falling, falling, falling, until at last darkness claimed her.

Lost and Found

My 2017 NaNo is the sequel to my very first NaNo. It’s not a continuation of Driving Into Forever but tells the story of two of the minor characters from it – Sara and Nathaniel. Sara was left waiting to hear from Hannah, who was supposed to phone her when she got home. When she doesn’t, she worries that Hannah might have had a mishap on the way home and decides to drive to her house to check up on her. On the way there, she runs into Nathaniel. Literally.

Nathaniel was the victim of foul play. Left for dead in the Myste, he’s still a little dazed when he crosses paths with Sara. Together they must work their way through the many dimensional layers of Myste to find their way home again.

Today’s excerpt is from the beginning, which starts just after Hannah leaves for home.

Sara said one more goodbye to her friend Hannah and closed the door with a sigh. She always felt let down the morning after a night out on the town. Wandering over to the window she looked out but the fog was so thick outside that she couldn’t even see the street, let alone see Hannah exit the building or walk to her car. It was a sea of white cloud out there, a few buildings poking up like islands.

Curling up on the window seat she took a sip from her cup of coffee then rested her forehead against the glass. If she was honest with herself she’d have to admit that her let down feeling was not just due to the after affects of a night out. She’d been feeling like this for a while now and she didn’t know why. She had a decent job, great friends - life was pretty darned good. But there just seemed to be something missing.

Without realizing it, she fell asleep. A warm, perfumed breeze wafted around her, caressing her skin as she stood on a white sand beach. She was watching the sun as it lowered towards the horizon in a blaze of crimson glory. Gentle waves lapped at the shore, almost at her feet. Warm hands rested on her shoulders, strong, oh so familiar hands. She might not know his name, but she knew him. He was tall and strong, with toffee coloured skin and jet black hair. She had been dreaming about him off and on since she was fifteen. Sometimes she wondered if that’s why she never had a successful relationship in real life, no man could compare to her dream lover.

Sara turned in his arms. He held her close making her feel safe, protected, as though this was where she belonged. They didn’t speak, words weren’t necessary between them. Their lips met in a kiss she felt all the way to her toes. Their clothing vanished as, not breaking the kiss, they sank slowly down to the blanket on the sand.

The sound of a phone ringing startled her awake. Sara cursed as she slopped cold coffee down the front of her favourite sweat shirt. Reaching back behind her, she fumbled the phone into her hand.

“It’s about time you called. I’m telling you, you need a cell phone– What?” Sara swung her legs around so that she was sitting with her back to the window. “No, I’m sorry. You have the wrong number.”

Ending the call, but taking the phone with her, she dumped her coffee into the sink and glanced at the clock in the kitchenette. “Shit!” More time than she realized had passed.

Opening up her contacts, she scrolled down the list and stabbed her finger at the phone. She waited, foot tapping, for Hannah to pick up the phone. “Come on, come on,” she muttered. “Pick up Hannah. You know I worry.”

After letting the phone ring at least twenty times, she gave up.

“You know what I’m going to have to do,” she said, glaring at the phone. She sighed. “I guess it’s not like I have anything better to do.”

She padded into the bedroom where stripped off the soiled sweatshirt, throwing it towards the laundry hamper, and missing. Muttering under her breath she pulled a tee-shirt emblazoned with the advice, Keep Calm and Drink More Coffee, and a red hoodie out of the pile on the floor and did a quick change into them. Heading back into the living room she grabbed her coat and purse, forgetting her own cell phone lying on the table beside the door.

The fog began to thicken as Sara turned off the highway onto the road that wound through the woods to the causeway. Unlike Hannah, she’d never liked being out in the fog, it creeped her out. But it was definitely at times like this she appreciated her Cadillac El Dorado. It may be a gas guzzler but it would stand up to anything the fog could throw at her.

She could barely see the road but she kept to a steady pace, you never knew what might be lurking if you stopped in the fog. Every horror movie Sara had ever seen flashed through her mind. The road was usually in good repair but it had been a hard winter and it felt like the pavement was being held together with potholes.

There was no worry that she strayed off the road, she’d been down it often enough she could probably navigate it blind-folded, which is what it felt like now. But it led pretty much straight to the causeway, which lead straight to the island Hannah lived on, and there were trees bordering the sides, not that she could see much of them either.

It was probably just an illusion because of the fog, but the road seemed to go on forever. Shouldn’t she be on the causeway by now? A dark shape loomed up suddenly in front of her. “Holy crap!” Sara slammed on the brakes and yanked the steering wheel hard to the right. The big car jerked to a halt and she sat there, clutching the steering wheel and gasping.

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod!” Did she hit whatever, or whoever that was? She should go check. Really she should. Just as soon as she could make herself let go of the steering wheel. They might be hurt. It might even have been Hannah. That ratty old Jeep she drove might have broken down and she could have been walking along the road, on her way home.

That thought was enough to make her release her death grip on the steering wheel and scramble out of the car. The fog swirled and eddied around her. It was so thick she could barely see and she kept one hand on the car until she reached the front bumper. It was disconcerting not to be able to see the road under her feet. She shuffled forward slowly, hands out in front of her to ward off anything she might run into.

“Hello? Is anyone there?”

She’d always thought fog was supposed to amplify sound, this fog was so thick it seemed to muffle it.

“Are you alright? Hannah, is that you?”

Was that the sound of someone in pain she heard over there? Sara followed the sound, not sure if she was on the road or not. Her foot struck something soft; this time there was definitely a groan.

“Oh jeez!”

She hunkered down and found the form on the ground more by touch than by sight. “Oh my God, are you okay?” Frantically she ran her hands over the body, trying to determine if there were any serious injuries.

“I am so sorry! You just appeared out of nowhere. I know I was probably going a little too fast, you know, considering the fog and all, but oh my God what are you doing out here in the middle of the road anyway? Didn’t you have enough sense to move out of the way when you heard my car coming?” She was babbling and she knew it, but couldn’t seem to stop herself.

The body started to rise under her questing hands.

“Are you sure you ought to do that? Maybe you should just stay put until we’re sure you’re alright. Is there someone I could call for you?” She patted her pockets. “Oh, damn! I must have left my cell phone at home. Do you have one with you?”

She was on the verge of checking his pockets for a phone when a thought struck her. “I don’t know if the 911 service would risk sending an ambulance out here or not. It’s probably not such a good idea to have someone else risk coming out in this fog, unless you feel you need one?” This last was phrased more like a question and she paused for a breath, waiting for a reply. When there was none, she shrugged.

“Oh well, it shouldn’t be too far to my friend Hannah’s house. We can use her phone.” She helped him as he started to rise. “Wow, you are a tall one, aren’t you? Let me help you to my car.”

So far her victim hadn’t said a word. Sara couldn’t decide whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. All she could tell was that he was a man, a tall man, and he felt pretty solidly built under her helping hands. He moved slowly, carefully, with her towards the car. Or least towards where she thought the car should be.

After a few minutes she halted them. Sara bit her lower lip and glanced around. “I know you probably don’t want to hear this, but I think we missed the car in this fog.”

The man mumbled something.

“What did you say?”

“Not fog, Myste.”

The Eros Portal

I don’t know why I skipped the 2015 NaNo, but I’ve regretted it ever since because it broke my streak. But in 2016 I was back with a vengeance with the Eros Portal. This was one of those stories that just seemed to write itself, and it’s only missing one scene to make it completely finished.

It’s a fun, science fiction romance about a scientist on a distant world that uses a person's DNA to open a portal close to wherever their perfect mate can be found. But on the test run of the machine, unbeknownst to the scientist, the machine is activated by not one, but two sets of DNA. The woman who steps through the portal may not be the mate that's expected.

This excerpt is from the beginning where the woman in question stumbles across the portal while looking for the cat she was looking after for a friend, and who escaped out into the snow.

Makayla trudged on for another twenty minutes or so before she could no longer see where she was going. Had she been able to, she would have seen how the tracks circled back towards her house about fifteen of those twenty minutes ago. What she thought were tracks were really just the indentations made when small clumps of snow fell off of the tree branches in the faint wind that had sprung up.

“Damn it!” She looked around and realized the sun had set. With no clear idea of how far she had come, she could be in serious trouble here. She’d always wanted to live out in the country, so the surrounding woods had been a big selling point of her house. And while it was great in the summer to have the privacy and few neighbours, in the winter it felt very isolated.

Everything looked the same in the dark. If she was lucky, she’d be able to retrace her steps. If not, she’d be as lost as Mittens.

“Stupid damn cat,” she muttered under her breath.

A flash of blue light off to the right caught her attention. It flickered, like the light bulb was about to burn out. It couldn’t be from the highway, could it? She’d been walking for a while but she didn’t think she’d walked that far. And she hadn’t been going in that direction, unless she got turned around somehow.

Didn’t most people walk in circles when they walked without something to guide them? But that didn’t really make sense either, she didn’t have a blue light in her house. Shrugging, she made for the light anyway. Light meant people, so even if it wasn’t her house it was bound to be one of her neighbors, not that she had many of those.

The light was further away than she thought and she was getting dangerously chilled. Her fingers were totally numb. What kind of an idiot took off in the dark in nothing but a sweater? No hat, no gloves ... But the sweater had been right there and she would have lost precious time going back through the house to the back door for her coat. This is what came of being in such a rush. She was probably going to end up frozen to death while Mittens was curled up on her porch having a nap.

The light was still ahead of her, and the woods were growing denser. Had the trees been this close together on her way in? She pushed through some shrubbery that still had a few dead leaves attached to it and stopped to stare. A doorway of iridescent blue light filled the space between two slender trees.

“What the hell?”

Makayla took a single step forward and stopped again. Then she took a couple of steps to the side and the door seemed to disappear. Moving back to her original position, the door shimmered into view again.

As curious as the cat she’d been looking for, Makayla moved forward, one step at a time. A ripple went through the shimmering blue and she paused for a second. The light settled back into a staticky glow, like the snow on the TV when the cable went out.

Another step closer and the snow turned blue again and seemed to clear a bit. It was almost translucent. One more step and she could see vague images in it. It wasn’t the woods in behind it, it was something else altogether. Some place else.

Maybe it was some kid’s science project - holograms or something like that. His parents probably made him set it up out in the woods in case of accidents. Like, if something shorted out and set fire to something. It was pretty advanced looking, if that’s what it was.

One more step and she was able to reach out and touch it. It tingled on her fingertips, a ripple effect spreading out where she touched. It wasn’t until she tried to pull her hand away that she realized what a stupid thing it had been to do. She appeared to be stuck fast.

Makayla yanked her arm back but her fingers remained glued to the shimmer. In fact, it actually seemed like the shimmer was pulling her hand further in.

“Oh, no no no!” She twisted and turned her hand and her fingers turned easily, but they wouldn’t let go. “Hello? Is anybody out here?” What kind of person set something like this up in the middle of the woods and then just abandoned it?

“Hey! I could use some help here,” she yelled. Surely whoever made this couldn’t be too far away. Wouldn’t they need to monitor it or something? “Look, I’m sorry I touched your experiment or whatever, but I need you to shut it off.”

There was no answer. Millimetre by millimetre her hand was being enveloped in the glowing light. No matter how much she pulled it refused to let go of her again. Digging her heels in she tried to wrench free, but slipped on the damp ground and only succeeded in causing her whole arm to become enveloped.

Panting from the effort, she glanced around but she was surrounded by darkness. It was getting really cold out. It was starting to hurt to breathe. She didn’t bother calling out again, if there really was someone out there it was obvious they were only going to watch, not help.

While the point of contact with the light tingled, the rest of her arm didn’t seem to be affected at all. She tried wiggling her fingers, but the rippling effect made it impossible to see through the door. Looking at the ground where the light made it easier to see, she looked for an electrical cord or whatever was powering the thing. There was nothing that she could see.

There weren’t many options here. Maybe she should just get it over with. Steeling herself, Makayla took a deep breath and then stepped through the doorway. She was aware of light and heat and then nothing at all.