#adayoutoftime

Oh, you thought we were done with book deals?

GUESS AGAIN.

Until March 29 at midnight, A Day Out of Time will be $0.99!!

Thanks @theouterdark, this is gonna be hella long lol. I’ll start with the WIPs that have pages, and then I’ll include all of my WIPs under the cut. Fair warning: There’s 10 in total.

Rules: List your WIP titles and how you got them

A Day Out of Time

So I’ve probably talked about this one before, but this was actually inspired by a Cracked article that I read years ago about weird old calendars. Back in the 1700s there was a small movement to replace our solar calendar with a 13-month lunar calendar. At the end of the year we would be left with one extra day, a “day out of time.” That phrase just really stuck with me, and it inspired the entire story. I don’t think any other WIP of mine has ever started with a title.

A Day Out of Time: After/Effects

The title of the second book in this series took me ages to pin down. First it was An It Harm None, which is based on a pagan/Wiccan saying basically meaning “As long as you don’t hurt anyone, do whatever the fuck you want.” But as I finished the first draft, it became pretty obvious that one of the themes was the consequences (or aftereffects) of our actions. I considered a bunch of other titles (Repercussions, Aftershock, What We Sow) before settling on After/Effects because it has a neutral connotation, and not all of the “consequences” in the story are bad!

Bitter Dawn

The title for this one is full of layers! It was originally something to do with the word “Hunter” because that’s what Zora (MC) is, but at some point she has a line about how every normal human loves the dawn because that’s when the danger is over, but for Hunters it’s always the worst part because that’s when they find new bodies. It also works on a deeper level because Zorana means “dawn,” and there’s a lot of light/dark imagery. Bonus level: Zora’s not particularly happy about being a Hunter.

Brightest Day

So this is the middle book in what was originally a duology. Bitter Dawn is the beginning of Zora’s story, and Burning Dusk is the conclusion. So when I realized that there was more to the story, I chose a title that worked with the theme of the other two books.

Tagging @human-nonsense @pens-swords-stuff @elusiveink and @theguildedtypewriter

If anyone is interested in my other WIPs, there’s more info below the cut!

I’ve been guilty of silently lurking and reblogging rather than interacting, so I thought I’d finally introduce myself!

My name is Kelsey, and I’m a sci-fi/fantasy writer. I have nine manuscripts under my belt, but I’ll be releasing my first novel (A Day Out of Time) at the end of August. It’s part one of my sci-fi trilogy, and it’s a little Torchwood meets Men in Black. Aliens, time travel, shenanigans, pyromania, etc.

Here’s the blurb:

Cat Fiyero is no stranger to chaos. Once a year the world fractures into rifts, allowing modern New Yorkers to walk side-by-side with dinosaurs, killer mermaids, and beings from distant stars. The cleanup falls to people like Cat and the brilliant but damaged members of Gamma team, who all know from personal experience that the job has a way of haunting anyone who gets close. Nothing about a Day is ever simple, and if this band of misfits wants to make it through the next twenty-four hours unscathed, their only choice is to stick together. The rules are simple: Identify and relocate subjects. Clear and close rifts. Don’t cause trouble.

Too bad Cat and her team aren’t much for rules.

Anyway, I’d love to get more involved with the community. I’ll try to start posting excerpts and OC info. Feel free to tag me or stop by to say hi!

In Cat's professional opinion, things were already going to shit by the time the pteranodon attacked. In theory, the addition of a reptile the same size as a four-year-old child would mean it was time to panic; in reality, it was just another Day at the office.

So when the aforementioned reptile swooped over her head with a soft whompof displaced air, she immediately drew a bead on it with the Peacekeeper and tapped her ear.

“Darwin, what the hellis that thing?” Cat asked, watching as the creature wheeled over the shallow water of Azalea Pond, giving everyone a view of its pale, wrinkly underside.

The zoologist's voice, when it came through the bud in her ear, wheezed and sputtered with exertion. “What the hell is what, Ca—JESUS FUCK, IS THAT A PTERANODON?”

“I DON'T KNOW, DARWIN,” Cat hollered back, “IS IT A FUCKING PTERANODON?”

“Commander,” the New Kid called, fumbling for the clip to his sidearm. “Um. I think Captain Renault might be getting ready to charge after all.”

Cat relaxed from her defensive stance and pushed a thumb against one caffeine-deprived temple. “Specs, what the hellis a pteranodon doing in my city?”

The big man in tactical gear standing beside her wiped sweat from his lips and swallowed. “I don't know, Cat. There's never been any historical evidence for them this far north.”

Cat eyed the reptile suspiciously as it landed on a low-hanging branch, panting. “Try telling it that.”

“Maybe she's lost,” Helix offered, looking over the data on her tablet. She tapped her own ear and said, “Darwin, what period do they come from?”

“How the hell should I know?” Darwin's voice chirped from the open channel. “Where in my job description does it say paleontologist?I guess right below where it says babysitter, and trail guide, and—”

With a tap of her finger, Cat ended the transmission. “Tell your brother that if we survive, he's fired.”

“Mm-hm,” Helix said, eyes flicking over the screen. “Fired. Got it.”

Turning to the man in gleaming greyscale armor behind her, Cat holstered her weapon and said, “Grunt, I want two Dogs on this thing at all times until we can send it home. Everybody else, get ready to move out.”

“Yes ma'am,” Grunt replied.

“Specs, you're on point with me,” Cat said, finger-combing her short blonde hair out of her face. “Let's go talk Captain Renault down before they head north and find Belvedere.”

“Cat—Cat, just wait—”

She spun around. “Wait for what, Specs? There's a regiment of very confused 18thcentury Frenchmen holed up in the Ramble, and last time I checked, you're still the only one here who speaks French.”

“Cat,” he said, holding up his hands, “do you really think they're going to listen to a black man? Or a woman?”

Cat stared at him, taking in the obvious dark walnut tone of his skin, and then with a mini scream of frustration she drew the Peacekeeper again and fired a single round into a nearby rock. Half of it melted into a glowing puddle that blackened the grass like Cajun fried fish. As the silence lengthened, Cat holstered the gun and drummed her fingers on her leg with a sigh.

“Feel better?” Specs asked, raising both eyebrows.

“You know what, I really do.” Looking back over her shoulder, she barked, “New Kid, with us. We're going to play a game of Telephone.”

“Telephone?” he asked, following the closest of his team members as though tugged along by the very end of a short rope.

Cat glanced back at him as they trekked towards the rougher high ground of the Ramble, where their new friends were headed. “What, they don't have sleepovers wherever you’re from? Telephone. I tell Specs, he tells you, you tell Captain Renault. But in French.”

“French? Commander, I—I can't speak French.”

“Really?You can't?Oh, well, there goes the whole day. We might as well pack it in now. Specs, tell the twins we're done here, Beta can come deal with the pteranodon. I'm sure they've got a dinosaur expert.”

“What the commander means,” Specs told the scrambling man, “is that she's going to tell me what to say, I'm going to translate it into French, and then you're going to repeat it to Captain Renault.”

“Why me?”

Cat threw a glance over her shoulder. “I’m not touching this one.”

Snorting softly, Specs said, “From far enough away, you pass.”

“Pass—oh. But wouldn't—wouldn't the others be better?” the New Kid asked, looking at the group of Watchdogs fanned out around him.

“Maybe so,” Cat said. “But I want their focus on our surroundings.”

“O-okay.” Swallowing gamely, the New Kid began following Specs better than the bigger man's own shadow.

Cat didn't blame the kid a bit. Given the choice between herself and Specs, she would have done the same thing; the historian was twice his commander’s size, and a good deal more pleasant.

They came around a copse of trees and there, huddled around a pool at the base of an anemic waterfall, was a pack of animals that didn't require Darwin for identification. A three-quarters blind octogenarian wouldn't have mistaken them.

More dinosaurs. People-sized dinosaurs.

Cat sighed and closed her eyes. “Oh. Fuck. Me.”

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

If God doesn’t exist, who then created this?