You know... that writer chick...

Camp NaNoWriMo - August

Project: Wonderland

Genre: Urban Fantasy (Rio Crew Novel)

Word count (22 Aug, 4:20 p.m.): 25,961

Analysis: Woefully behind schedule. Adore the Rio Crew - love the plot - but this is going SOOOO FRAKKIN SLOOOOOOOOW

*sigh*

Excerpt:

“It was worth a shot,” Staci said gently.  “We’ll just have to look around some more.  The Lodge and the surrounding buildings, maybe?”

“He’s gotta be somewhere, right?” Liberty sighed.  “We gotta keep looking.  I, for one, don’t like the idea of leaving the guy with his skull bleeding... wherever he is.”

“We’ll find him, babe,” J.J. assured her as the group turned back toward the slope.

They’d start at the lodge itself, they decided as they worked their way back to the number Seven.  There had to be a hundred places to hold someone captive in the sprawling rich hardwood inn and if he wasn’t inside the main lodge they could move to the auxiliary structures that housed supplies, staff and equipment.

“We will find him,” Tiffany said quietly, squeezing Liberty’s shoulder gently.

They were lined up beside the slope, watching other skiers fly past them on their way down the hill.

“What’s the deal with this guy, anyway, Lib?” Billy asked casually.

It was a question that had been on all their minds, but there just hadn’t seemed like a good time to ask it.  Feeling Liberty’s shoulder tense under her hand, Tiffany wasn’t sure this had been a good time either... but the damage was done.

“I draw a guy with a cracked skull and I gotta have more reason to be worried?”

“A head wound isn’t necessarily as serious as...”

“Does it matter, China Doll?  Can’t I just be the good guy?”

“Of course, dear,” Staci smiled gently.  “There just seems to be something else about him... some other reason you’re concerned for Mitch Cramer.”

“Nothing special,” Liberty shrugged.

“Yeah, that's convincing,” J.J. said quietly.

“God,” Liberty sighed loudly.  “He reminds me of Alex, alright?”

Without another word, Liberty pushed her way out onto the slope.  She'd been trying to avoid thinking of just how much Mitch Cramer's easy smile and casual outlook reminded her of her twin brother but now that she'd actually vocalized it, she was even more sure that there was no turning back. 

At this point, it didn't matter what her friends thought of her motives: it didn't matter if they thought she was insane or reaching for some emotional golden ring on the roller-coaster like carousel that had been her life or just wanting to see something so badly that it was appearing before her even if it wasn't there.

At this point, all that mattered was getting to Mitch Cramer before anything else happened to him.

“Well, that's tragically enlightening,” Tiffany said quietly as Liberty vanished down the slope.

Camp NaNoWriMo - August

Project: Wonderland

Genre: Urban Fantasy (Rio Crew Novel)

Word count (19 Aug, 8:35 a.m.): 23,677

Analysis: Still way behind schedule.  Blocks hitting and missing at random intervals.  Lots of stuff going on with work and school starting back up and all the other other-than-writing responsibilities.

Excerpt:

Part of Josh’s preparations for the trip to Summit View had included the acquisition of gear that would appeal to each individual as well as maintaining a high levels of quality and effectiveness his own tastes demanded.  It hadn’t been a simple task but as they converged at the top of the staircase, he knew that the task had, with no doubt, been successfully completed.  With a smile to the others and a mental note to thank his mother for her assistance, Josh offered Staci his arm and the group headed downstairs and out into the snow.

“I can’t believe you talked me into this shit,” J.J. grumbled as they walked toward the equipment building.

“You coulda stayed inside the lodge,” Liberty smirked.  “But then you wouldn’t’ve been able to boss me around,” she added, glaring in Staci’s direction.

J.J. chuckled and rolled his eyes as they walked.  “You see what you’ve done to me, Staci?” he laughed.  “This is all I’ve heard.”

“You just seemed like the best man for the job,” Staci laughed softly. 

“God knows whoever’s holding her leash’s gotta be able to back up their commands,” Tiffany added with a smirk.

“Yeah,” Liberty grumbled, rolling her eyes.  “That pretty much leaves him.”

“Besides,” Billy smirked.  “Is there anyone else here you’ll admit will know when you’ve pushed too hard?”

Liberty smiled and pushed her long golden curls out of her face.  “Who said I’d admit that he knows it?” she laughed.

“Okay,” Josh laughed as they kicked the snow off their boots before entering the equipment building.  “Let’s just get out gear and get out...”  Realizing there were other people in the shop, Josh quickly rethought his choice of words.  “Just get where we’re going, shall we?”

The sound of Joshua Forester’s voice made Alanna cringe.  It was hardly noticeable, but the way her muscles tensed under Drew’s hand was hard for him to ignore.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Alanna lied as she turned toward the group that had just entered the building.  “We meet again,” she smiled.

“The world is, indeed, quite small,” Staci smiled.

Staci didn’t necessarily dislike Alanna Madrid, but the heartbroken and prematurely worn young actress simply wasn’t on the extremely short list of classmates she’d have been even remotely pleased to run into on vacation.  Of course, the fact that the only people she wanted to see were the people she’d already planned to spend the holidays with was irrelevant... Alanna was here, and it seemed that the inexplicable gravitational field that drew Rutherford students together was diminished by neither their physical removal from Delora Valley nor the frigid air of the mountainside.

Drew was still trying to figure out the dynamics of the group.  While it was a stretch, he could justify Billy Russell being friends with J.J. Dawson and Liberty Haley... after all, there couldn’t be that many people in Rio Hevrir even worth knowing, let alone hanging out with.  But the other half of the group – the half that apparently had some sort of ties to Alanna – confused him more than he cared to admit.  The fact that the amazingly glamorous and carelessly wealthy trio in question knew Alanna wasn’t the confusing part, though...

“So, William,” Drew smiled.  “Aren’t you going to introduce your... um... friend?”

Camp NaNoWriMo - August

Project: Wonderland

Genre: Urban Fantasy (Rio Crew Novel)

Word count (4 Aug, 9:30 a.m.): 4884

Analysis: Off to a slow start. Behind schedule. Total block most of yesterday. Going better now... just have to get caught up :)

Excerpt:

“Artist or ghost-chaser?” an amused male voice asked from the stairs above them.  The man descending the stairs looked around Tiffany’s age, but that was where the probability that he actually belonged at Summit View ended.  His shaggy sandy blonde hair had suffered far too much sun and wind and his dark even tan didn’t have that strange orangey color that came from laying in tanning beds to get rid of raccoon eyes and watch lines.  More than that, though, he was about a thousand times more relaxed than any of the people they’d seen relaxing by the huge stone fireplace in the lobby.  “ ‘cause no offense or anything... but you don’t exactly scream fashion designer.”

As a half-dozen heads turned toward him, Mitch Kramer had only a moment to analyze the entire party.  He didn’t know what the deal was with these kids, but they weren’t the spoiled snow-brats he’d been expecting.  Only half of the group even came close to fitting into the mold Lynette Miller’s instructions had created in his mind, and even they were different.

“Now that you’ve insulted one of my best friends,” the auburn-haired woman smiled coldly.  “Perhaps you’d be so kind as to either explain yourself or get the hell out of our way.”

Billy smiled as he slipped his arm around Tiffany’s waist.  He had no idea who the guy was, but he’d seen a hundred clones of him hanging around the sponsors’ tents at Lance’s competitions.  From the admittedly brief exchange, this guy wasn’t shaping up to be much more tolerable than any of the others.

Great job, Kramer, Mitch chided himself as the grinning cowboy slid his hand around the auburn-haired woman.  These kids are gonna get me tossed out of this place on my...

“I honestly didn’t mean to offend anyone,” Mitch said with a smile.  “It’s just that the cloak there only really attracts three types of folks.  Artists...”

“Ghost-chasers and designers,” Staci interrupted coolly.  “We got that part.”

“Okay,” Mitch sighed.  “I seriously put the wrong foot forward, here.  Can we start this again?”

“That depends on what you think you’re starting,” Josh replied.

Of course it does.  “Mitch Kramer,” he introduced himself to the group.  “I’m one of the ski instructors here, and...”

“You’ve been assigned to babysit the half-dozen rich kids arriving this evening,” Tiffany interrupted, weaving her fingers through Billy’s.

“Something to that effect,” Mitch shrugged, turning his attention toward the lithe blonde who’d been examining the cloak.  “And I really didn’t mean to offend you, miss...”

“Haley,” Staci offered as Liberty turned toward Mitch.

“Miss Haley,” Mitch smiled.  “But I have a tendency to talk before I think and, like now, it usually lands me in trouble.”

Liberty began to chuckle and her face broke into a smile.  “No harm, no foul, man,” she laughed, kicking at the stair in front of her with the toe of her electric blue Doc Marten.  “So, what was your first clue that I wasn’t a designer?”

Once it was clear to the others that Liberty was neither offended by the Mitch's initial comments nor likely to rip the guy's throat out, they relaxed some. 

Mitch chuckled, nodding toward Liberty's feet.  “So, why the interest in the Specter's cloak?”

“Specter?” Billy echoed with a tired sigh.

Hey Wrimos! Who's up for round 2?

I think I've stalled just enough...

I probably shouldn't try to do Camp NaNoWriMo in August.  I'll probably do it anyway.

Until then... an excerpt from The Gardens of Delora Valley...

*************************************************

“Cec, honey,” Trixi Darrington argued weakly.  “Think about what you’re saying.”

“Will you stop worrying, Trixi,” Cecily laughed as she poured another glass of champagne.  “God knows he’s not going to harm her.”

“I’m glad someone knows it,” Trixi grimaced.  “Because from where I’m sitting… from where I’m always sitting… I don’t see him as any sort of benevol…”

“I never said he was benevolent,” Cecily interrupted, holding up the champagne bottle quizzically.  “I said he wouldn’t harm her.  Not permanently, anyway.”

Trixi shook her head and closed her eyes.  “I… I don’t know if I can do this, Cec… I mean…”

“Don’t you back out on me, Trixi,” Cecily hissed.  “This really is better for everyone.”

It was obvious that Cecily wasn’t going to change her mind and possible, Trixi decided, that she was simply over-reacting to an imagined threat.  Half the town thought she was paranoid anyway… maybe it was actually true.

“Not permanently?” Trixi finally managed, not quite capable of letting the subject die.

“Of course not, silly,” Cecily laughed, flopping down on one of the couches.  “She’s a far more valuable possession if she’s alive.”

“Valuable possession?” Trixi echoed indignantly.  “She’s your daughter, Cec.”

“She’s a playing card,” Cecily shrugged.  “Rutherford’s own Queen of Hearts.  I swear, most of the time she’s as bad as Mike… soft-hearted and idealistic and hopelessly and pathetically ethical….”  Cecily’s ranting was punctuated by a frustrated breathy grunt of disgust.  “Really, Trix,” she continued after a moment.  “Think about it.  You deliver Mike’s little princess and he’ll let you go.  Isn’t it worth it?  Just to get him off your back?  To be able to leave this… prison?”

They were the same arguments that had pushed Trixi Darrington into agreeing to the plan in the first place, and Cecily was sure they’d work again.  The thing that held Trixi captive was little more than the demonic realm’s equivalent of sandbox bully, after all.  Drake Forester had finally conceded that the creature would jump at the chance to take control of Staci, and Cecily had managed to convince Trixi Darrington that it was the best course of action.

“Well,” Trixi sighed softly.  “I’m still not sure, but she said they’d be here, so...”

“They?”

“Drake’s boy is coming with her,” Trixi said quietly.

“Damn it, Trixi,” Cecily sighed.  “Why didn’t you just tell her no?  Tell her that it was a women’s only party or something?”

“Oh, Cec,” Trixi laughed softly, shaking her head.  “I couldn’t tell her no.”

Maybe if I drag these out enough, I'll have new in-progress excerpts from August for the Rio Crew Novel I may (or may not) be doing for Camp NaNoWriMo's August session.

*********************************

“Well, what about an art school, then?” Billy suggested.  He’d been trying for what seemed like hours to change Liberty’s mind and get her to cancel the appointment she’d made to begin processing the paperwork necessary for her to take the General Education Development exam at the end of the school year.  “Help me out, here, man,” he added with an anxious glance in J.J.’s direction.

Liberty sighed and shook her head.  “How many times do I have to say it, Billy?  Once he’s gone from Rio High,” she shrugged, leaning back and pulling J.J.’s arm around her.  “So am I.  I got nothin to keep me there.  So why bother?  It’s not like I’m just... y’know... droppin out.”

“You may as well be,” Billy grumbled.  “What about business?  You could get a business degree so you could open your own kung fu studio,” he suggested hopefully.

“Ha!” Liberty scoffed, rising to her feet.  “Gotta be good for that, cowboy.  I’m gonna make some coffee,” she finished, walking into the kitchen.

“Gotta be good for that says the three-time junior grand champion,” Billy grumbled, rolling his eyes.  “I’m not gonna win, am I?”

Since it is summer - at least here in Central California - I figured I'd start those excerpts I promised in the last post with a little piece of "Summer of Blood"

Enjoy :)

**************************

“Who are you?” Staci asked the other woman anxiously.  “Why are you doing this to me?”

“Slow down, China Doll,” Liberty snarled.  “What the hell makes you think I did this?”

“Well, I didn't do...”

“Great,” Liberty interrupted.  “So neither of us had anything to do with... whatever the hell just happened... but we're both here.  So what do we...?”

“Did you hear that?” Staci interrupted.

Liberty thought, for just a moment, that the girl might be losing it but then the man’s rich hypnotic voice filled her mind. 

It is a shame that such beauty and skill are wasted on the world of the weak and foolish...

In my world you will be queens...

Goddesses...

And the fools around you will grovel at your feet and beg your favor...

“You buyin this, China Doll?” Liberty scoffed.

“Sounds almost too good to be true,” Staci answered, shaking her head.  “So it probably is.”

Liberty nodded and reached a hand out to Staci.  “Ready to get back to reality?”

“How?”

Liberty laughed as she took the other girl’s hand.  “I dunno... haven’t figured that part out yet,” she smirked.  “But I’m pretty sure we gotta do it together.”

What are you doing?

“He said we'd be goddesses, right?” Liberty asked, trying to ignore the man's voice.

Staci nodded hesitantly.  She wasn't afraid of the voice, but there was a quality to it that terrified her... all because it made her think of Halloween.

“So, let's use our power and get out this nightmare,” Liberty smirked.

How dare you...

Staci cringed at the growing anger in the voice that held them captive.  “I'm Staci Tran,” she told the blonde, hoping to keep herself focused on whatever the other girl was planning.

“Liberty.”

I haven't updated in a while.

It's not that I've necessarily flaked or given up or anything like that...

It's the bizarre reality that I finished:

Story told. 

Word count 56,125. 

On day 11?!?!?!?!

Still not sure how or why - but I did.

I have my plan for August - but I'm still not sure if I'll do August or not. I'd love to, but work will be picking up and the kids will be starting back to school and... and... and...

No more "Legacy" excerpts at this point - I considered one final update like the others - but there's just too much that would be given away.

In the fairly near future, though, I will post some excerpts from some of my completed books...

Day 8 update early on Day 9

Here we go again...

Music: Pink, Dokken, Megadeth, Damageplan, Falco, Everclear, Clutch, more…

Story: Legacy 

A decade old plot/character set.  Original work quite frankly SUCKED!  Reviving the characters and plot I liked so much and writing it “for real” this time.

Word Count: 45,190

  Day seven: 40,596

  Day six:  34,922

  Day five: 22,850 

  Day four: 12,324

  Day three: 8,553

  Day two: 7,834

  Day one: 4,610

Synopsis: (previously posted here)

There were only a handful of people that believed Dorian Schell was capable of turning the dusty decrepit estate into an elite finishing school… but she wasn’t the sort of woman that cared what other people thought. When strange things start happening and it seems as if the estate itself is fighting her plans, though, Dorian calls on the only person she’s ever been able to trust… her twin brother, Damian. Too big for the Schells to face alone, Damian calls a friend who might be able to help… but Stick’s connection to the house and grounds is just as strong and could pose just as big a problem. Together, the three of them have to find out what’s twisted its claws into them and fix it before Dorian dares welcome students…

Excerpt: (different from the one at the camp site)

I’d kill for a cup of coffee, Dorian grumbled as they walked up the steps to the front door.

“That’s not necessary, Dori,” Damian chuckled.  “I’ll make some.”

Dorian smiled and blew a kiss at her brother. 

“You seem to be feeling quite a bit better,” Stick smiled.

I think I have this figured out, Dorian smiled.

“Good news,” Damian grinned as they walked into the foyer. 

They all began to drop their packs just inside the door, but Dorian shook her head and pointed toward the living room before reaching out and grabbing the strap off Damian’s shoulder.

You.  Coffee. she laughed.

“You got it, sis,” Damian chuckled as she slipped the pack off his shoulder.

“You do realize you were about to drop your pack like your brother and I do, right?” Stick chuckled as they walked into the living room.

Was I?

Stick stopped, pulling her to a stop, and looked deep into her icy blue eyes.  “That didn’t sound like a joke, angel.”

It wasn’t, Dorian said quietly.  I didn’t realize it.

“Wow,” Stick said quietly.  “This is gonna be one hell of a school,” he chuckled.

****************

Back on track - at least for the day.

Music: Pink, Dokken, Megadeth, Damageplan, Falco, Everclear, Clutch, more...

Story: Legacy 

A decade old plot/character set.  Original work quite frankly SUCKED!  Reviving the characters and plot I liked so much and writing it “for real” this time.

Word Count: 40,596

  Day six:  34,922

  Day five: 22,850 

  Day four: 12,324

  Day three: 8,553

  Day two: 7,834

  Day one: 4,610

Synopsis: (previously posted here)

There were only a handful of people that believed Dorian Schell was capable of turning the dusty decrepit estate into an elite finishing school… but she wasn’t the sort of woman that cared what other people thought. When strange things start happening and it seems as if the estate itself is fighting her plans, though, Dorian calls on the only person she’s ever been able to trust… her twin brother, Damian. Too big for the Schells to face alone, Damian calls a friend who might be able to help… but Stick’s connection to the house and grounds is just as strong and could pose just as big a problem. Together, the three of them have to find out what’s twisted its claws into them and fix it before Dorian dares welcome students…

Excerpt: (different from the one at the camp site)

“I don’t see why you’re so surprised,” Stick said flatly.

“What?”

“About Dorian,” Stick shrugged, twisting the cap off the bottle in front of him and tossing the cap past Damian into the garbage can.  “I mean... she really shocked the hell out of you.”

“No shit,” Damian grumbled.  “Did you hear anything I said about her over the last eight years?”

“I did,” Stick nodded, taking a drink of the beer.  “But I heard what you didn’t say about her, too.”

Damian twisted the top off his own bottle and tossed the cap over his shoulder.  “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Shit, Schell,” Stick laughed and took another drink.  “You always wondered if she’d remember her self-defense training, but you never worried that she wouldn’t use it.  You bitched about how long it had been since you were able to take her to the range, but never once did you wonder if she’d forgotten how to shoot.  Every damned thing you thought you were worried about was a worthless barely-related detail of the real issue.”  He drained the beer and held up the empty bottle in a mock toast.  “That there never was an issue.”

Damian took another drink and shook his head.