(writing) More words!

So, um, yeah, I haven’t been writing. *sigh* Well, I am now! Not only am I working on a new book (titled Resonant Frequencies, and quite possibly the beginning of a world that I could write a few books in, if I wanted to), but I’m blogging now over at Dark Knights Paranormal! This is the TAPS affiliate for New Hampshire that I’m a part of, and we’re going to have some interesting things going on over there! Check us out!

 

Oh, and yes, there WILL be an Advent story this year. I’ve gotten an interesting idea, and it’s going to involve Pavel. Lots of Pavel. And we’ll get to see some of the Sea Roads. So I think you’ll enjoy that.

 

In conclusion, let me leave you with a little bit of Abby, one of the protagonists of RF:

She wandered down the broken fieldstone path to the old stone bench that some former owner had planted under what might have once have been a well-groomed apple tree. Now, the tree was sprawling and gnarled, covered in the remains of blossoms that smelled of sweet decay and sent pale flower petals up into the air with every breeze, and it curled around the bench like a lover. The bench itself was bathed in sunlight, and sitting in the middle of it was a very large long-haired black cat that was snoring.

“Cats are not supposed to snore, Timothy,” she said, and he deigned to open one green-gold eye at her. “Really.”

He snorted at her and closed his eye again. Abby grinned, her mood starting to lift, and settled in next to him, stroking his soft fur. The snoring became a purr.

“Where’s your brother?” she asked. Timothy didn’t answer, but as she continue to sit and pet him, she saw another fluffy black tail come sauntering through the weeds towards them.

Sheridan burst out of the grass, his copper eyes wide and his pink tongue lolling from one side of his mouth, his smushed Persian face covered in random pieces of green. He looked as if he’d fallen into someone’s grass pile.

 

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