Rinda Elliott's Blog, page 26

I am completely amused that Twitter was the only thing that worked through our tornado day. I spent the time in a basement and we lost power. I sent out twitter messages because for one, it kept my mind off the sound of the storm and the siren. And also because my family was hilarious.  Yes, I sent too many tweets and with the tiny keyboard, the noise and the lack of light, some were packed full of misspellings. But it kept me amused instead of scared.

My father had his priorities down. Bread and wine. (Blackbox Boxed Wine, no less. LOL!)

My mother had all the possible medication we could need and some water. (She is VERY afraid of spiders and basements and this basement had a lot of webs. It was also her Birthday.)

Dad asking if we wanted to read the books he's written. We were all curious about why they seemed to be melted together like that.

And then, when all 12 or so people were down there and sirens were going off, we saw why the books looked like that. Water started pouring into the basement.

And pouring down the WALLS! (This house and basement are like a 100 years old!)

But the part you'll probably find the most interesting is this old house is across the street from this house. Look familiar? It was the house in the recent movie The Killer Inside Me.

We never got power back and I'm too tire to catch the news, but it was close. We had a lot of sirens, traffic issues and tree limbs down all over the place. Guess I'll find out tomorrow what happened. I really hate tornado season.

I have a lot of supporters out there. Seriously. And yes, I have seen the current PW buzz about a big sale involving Norse books. LOL! I'm very happy for them and the books sound wonderful.

My agent is still marketing my Norse YA trilogy and yes, there has been interest. Things just seem to move a little slowly these days. So, because I'm pumped about the readers still crossing their fingers for my trilogy, how about a little sneak peek? Here is the opening …

FORETOLD

Book One in Sisters of Fate Trilogy

  It is written that the kynkvísl, Norse descendents, will one day house the souls of the gods. True heroes who know their sad fate in the coming battles against evil forces but fight nonetheless. The time will begin with the portents of Ragnarok. Three years of winter, roaring seas that lash the land and an all consuming fire. The destruction of the world.

There is another prophecy, one never written and passed secretly by the giants of Niflheim, the lowest region of the Norse underworld. It is only to be shared with the mother of triplet kynkvísl, three sisters who will carry the souls of the Norns. The Sisters of Fate have the power to change the heroes' destiny. But only if they make it to their nineteenth birthday. The odds aren't good according to this unwritten prophecy:

 Born of two magical clans that share life's spiral. Light of head, dark of eyes, the young warrior will herald the beginning of Ragnarok. His hand to the death of a Norn.

I know it kinda feels like I keep dropping off the face of the earth. Nah. I'm just really busy. I'm working on a few writing projects and have found it's better if I don't share too much of what goes on behind the scenes.

Being a writer on submission kind of sucks sometimes. Things are going on but you can't really talk about them. And…I plan to always be on submission. Even after the sales start happening. But hopefully, I'll have a lot more to talk about then.

But I will always be writing and submitting.

It's all these characters, you see. THEY'RE ALIVE!

I posted about finding the right music for mood or character at The Deadline Dames today!

I haven't shared a snippet in some time. This is the opening bit to the book that captured my agent's interest. We don't have it on submission right now, but I will share that it did gather some interest. We aren't marketing it right now for several reasons, but there are plans for it. While there were a bunch of monster investigator books that came out after we first took this out, DWELLER ON THE THRESHOLD is pretty different. The villain is something I haven't seen in another book. I LOVE Beri and the friends she makes in this series, so you will see more of her. I'm just not sure in what publishing format yet. Hope you enjoy! 

Dweller on the Threshold

Chapter One

"The truth does not change according to our ability to stomach it."

Flannery O'Connor

The monsters never show up when they're supposed to.

I'd been in the damned marsh for hours. Crouched. Cramped.

Pissed.

I could walk this part of Florida's wilderness coast blindfolded, yet I'd picked the worst possible hiding place. One could only take cold, wet, goo-encrusted jeans and wrinkled fingertips for so long. And the damned prickly grasses! Scratches burned on my face and exposed arms where the whip-like strands had smacked my skin with the wind.

If I hadn't been in such a hurry to run after this most recent rumor, I would have remembered to put on the windbreaker I kept in the back of my vehicle, which was currently a new, luscious red Jeep. Any monster investigator worth her weight went to a scene prepared. I knew better! At least I had my bag of tricks—my backpack—strapped into place and luckily I'd remembered to grab my binoculars.

I grimaced when the grasses started shifting again. The current came as a flat sheet of water creeping through the marshes, forming bubbles between the blades. Small creatures scuttled about, gathering gifts from the ocean. A fiddler crab raced by the hand I had propped on a slippery piece of higher ground.

Ignoring it, I trained the lenses on one narrow, glistening strip of ocean–the only part of the coast visible in the light of the full moon. Most of the sky rolled thick and black from the blanket of clouds that wrapped everything except the moon. She glowered through, as if daring them to block her light. Usually, I felt more a part of nature's world than that of human's. The earth called to me, especially water. The never-ending expanse of moving, living liquid, the sucking swoosh of it crashing into the beach…the tinge of salt on the wind.

Somehow, it all worked together to wipe the worries from my mind.

But not tonight.

There was something to the air lately. Something that curled dark and low in my gut…something that kept reminding me of the last case I ran with my sister—the night what was left of my humanity had been viciously pulled loose. I'd been left in the kind of shadowy place where no one should ever dwell. As a result, I hadn't seen my sister for months. There was a time that would have seemed crazy.

Shivering, I narrowed my eyes to that spot and focused on the problem at hand. Two people had drowned here a week ago. Two good swimmers—life guards for Goddess' sake! I'd hit up a cop I knew for details on the investigation and come up with nada. Because he had nada. No one could tell why they'd drowned.

I thought I knew.

And in the next minute, I was sure of it as a wispy being formed over the water.

My heart sank like a lead weight. The ghosts of the drowned were the most powerful kind of spirits. Because the marsh water here moved slowly, the sluggish swoop of it combined with the energy of the water itself did something powerful to the dead, something that made them grow in strength until they drew even the strong to their sweet call.

A call that ended none too sweetly.

Saber pulled through. I will admit to being surprised. So is the hubs. The cat didn't eat for a long time, but according to our vet, the formula and Nutri-Cal my daughter and I force-fed him probably saved him. Poor cat–we squirted warm kitty formula down his throat every two hours for days.

But he's up and eating and loving on us like crazy. And he was his normally grouchy, demanding self in time for breakfast this morning.

I only wrote about 1500 words yesterday, so today I have a lot of work to do. Already got the morning workout in and I'm ready to kick wordage BUTT!

Thanks for all the messages, emails, notes, direct messages… whew. I loved each and every one, but sometimes, I do miss the days of one email address.

Such a rough weekend with Saber. We took him to the emergency vet clinic yesterday and he received excellent care and should be improving but he's just not. I'm sitting with him and working on my laptop. I really want to have something else ready for submission soon, so I'm going to have to work hard at focusing.

In other news, I heard the movie THOR did excellent at the theaters over the weekend. It's wonderful to see an interest in Norse mythology.

I've been writing as much as possible this week. Believe it or not, the kitty care has taken up some time. My husband is now convinced Saber will expect me to hand feed him every single time he eats now. Nah. Once Saber is back to 100% (and I refuse to believe otherwise even though I've had scary doubts this week) he'll be back to scarfing down anything put out. But yes, I've been checking him through the night and feeding him by hand. He's been a part of this family for eight years–that makes him special. And the emails and private messages with wishes for his recovery have touched me so much. Thank you!

This weekend is full. Graduation party, birthday party, and I'm kind of hoping I receive a little spoilage Sunday from my kids.

I blogged yesterday at The Deadline Dames for the Readers on Deadline. Next month's prize is an early copy of Devon Monk's Dead Iron. I am looking forward to this book like crazy. Just look at this cover!

I dream of getting a cover like this!

So, guess I'd better get back to the writing.

I'm not a typical pet owner. I tend to think of them as animals my kids really wanted and um, kind of annoying at times. Especially in the morning when they want food and trip me… or I'm stumbling in a dark house barefoot and one has been sick. YUCK.

But, I do love the way they tend to come around when they know you feel bad or maybe they do and they need a hug. Truth is, I say I'm not a typical pet owner…yet, I love my cats. I do.

It never becomes more apparent to me than when they're ill.

Saber has been ill to the point it has been scaring us. My son is 13 years old, 6'2″and the first thing he did when he got home today was search out Saber–who was still at the vet's . This one is a solid member of this family and my son was five when we found him.

So, we had a blood panel done and didn't find the problem, but he has been running a high fever, had a few other issues. So, the vet did an antibiotic injection, a steroid injection and we're on the watch for 24hrs. Upon returning home, Saber ate a little and drank a little. That's more than he's done for a couple of days.

So, what is this post about other than boring all the non-cat lovers who read this? Watching my pets the last few days has been something of a revelation for me. In the beginning, we had this.

Saber had been with us seven years at this point and the introduction of this energetic and overly-loving ball of fluff wasn't a good thing in his opinion. Poe has adored Saber from the second he laid eyes on him. He attacks him constantly, tries to cuddle and after some time, Saber gave in. He kind of lays back and lets the little one groom him sometimes, but the best thing is Poe makes him play. They run and jump and chase and then when Saber has had enough, he bitch-slaps Poe until he goes away. Seriously. It's pretty funny.

So the last few days, Poe has hovered around Saber like crazy. Today, Saber was at the vet's all day. We brought him home and this is what I see.

Saber feels so bad, he isn't grooming himself. Poe takes care of that.

Then… he just lays back and offers a paw for comfort.

I'm such a baby. This made me tear up big time. That little cat annoys us to death. He gets into everything, runs into walls sometimes, climbs everything… and he gets stuck in things. He's not the sharpest knife in the drawer–and yeah, a writer using a cliché–but my husband even calls him BB because he says it's the size of this cat's brain.

But this little, crazy cat sure does have a lot of love and he offers it unconditionally.

I'm flirting with the idea of doing something different with my next young adult novel. I stopped to work on other projects and worry I've missed the period of interest in dystopian novels.  But I still love my story… so who knows, I might take this one out myself when it's complete.

It should have been complete by now, but I finished the first draft and realized I'd introduced an element to the story that made it TOO EASY for the kids. I had to manufacture conflict and it didn't work in the end.

So, I've been tearing the book down, saving sections that will work with the new set up. OMG, this is hard. And putting it all back together will require my undivided attention, so I've been tying up loose ends on other projects.

When it's done, I'll send it to my agent and see what she thinks, but it's possible I'll approach publishing this one differently. I've also been flirting with the idea of putting the whole first chapter up on this website–but it's nearly 4k and that's a big chunk.

To sum up this post…I'm mulling. heh heh