Happy late February and early March! I have been having fun writing, editing, writing some more, and working in the garden. I already had some 26 (or was it 28?) Japanese Maples, and I added 10 more. Nothing has leafed out yet, and unless you know where the trees are it’s hard to see them, but I am LOVING the early shape of the garden and I made a breathless reel of that. It’s on my facebook official page here or here. I still have to move rocks, but that’s for another day and time. And another backache! I’m happy and ready for spring, planning a one-day trip to the land next week. I hope all you are having grand end-of-winter month! Now? Just for you guys! Here is an early peek at Unpredictable Magic. **** Labaka flashed his fangs at the new car and pulled a vamp-killer. Dumber than rocks. The driver—tall, dark, and half gorgeous—stepped like a dancer from his vehicle. New guy was Walter, wearing a black business suit, white shirt, and shiny shoes. His presence meant I’d been monitored by security all night, and Walter—the bodyguard who was blood-sworn to the queen to keep her godchildren safe—had left a meeting or a date to come save me. I was in trouble, one way or another. Labaka turned on Walter. Slashing out with a vamp-killer. Walter stepped inside the strike, knocked the short-sword away with a single block. Hit Labaka smack in the nose with the heel of his other hand. As the singer dropped, Walter caught him and slammed his head against his own car until the vamp went boneless. He threw Labaka ungently into his vehicle like a bale of hay. A weapon fired, cracking from the dark. Walter stumbled. Vamped out. Tore into the night. Three more gunshots sounded. Close. Deafening. Six seconds after vanishing into the dark, Walter reappeared, a limp man dangling over his shoulder. “I quite liked this suit,” he said casually, his old-fashioned upper-class British accent telling me more than anything that he was pissed. KeeKee and Lissa were standing inside the club, peeking out the open door, eyes and mouths wide. They knew me from college, knew about me being the queen’s godchild. But it wasn’t like I had ever displayed my fighting abilities or my magic to them. I had no idea how much they had seen. As he walked toward his car, Walter looked me over for injuries, studied the downed opponents, shook his head, and dropped the unconscious man at Berky’s feet. “This one is all yours.” The big bouncer looked from the unconscious man to Walter. “What am I supposed to do with him.” “Give him, give all of them, to the police,” Walter said, sounding eminently practical. “This looks like a terrible bit of gang warfare.” Berky looked around at all the prone bodies. “No, it doesn’t.” “Of course it does,” Walter said. “His weapon is in his suit pocket; his rounds mostly hit the club. The other rounds are inside me, so I’ll hang on to them a bit.” “No silver in them?” I asked too softly to carry. Silver was poison to vamps. “Oddly enough, no. I’m quite curious why.”Happy late February and early March.I have been having fun writing, editing, writing some more, and working in the garden. I already had some 26 (or was it 28?) Japanese Maples, and I added 10 more. Nothing has leafed out yet, and unless you know where the trees are it’s hard to see them, but I am LOVING the early shape of the garden and I made a breathless reel of that. It’s on my facebook official page here or here. I still have to move rocks, but that’s for another day and time. And another backache! I’m happy and ready for spring, planning a one-day trip to the land next week. I hope all you are having grand end-of-winter month! Now? Just for you guys! Here is an early peek at Unpredictable Magic. |
| ****Labaka flashed his fangs at the new car and pulled a vamp-killer. Dumber than rocks.The driver—tall, dark, and half gorgeous—stepped like a dancer from his vehicle. New guy was Walter, wearing a black business suit, white shirt, and shiny shoes. His presence meant I’d been monitored by security all night, and Walter—the bodyguard who was blood-sworn to the queen to keep her godchildren safe—had left a meeting or a date to come save me. I was in trouble, one way or another.Labaka turned on Walter. Slashing out with a vamp-killer.Walter stepped inside the strike, knocked the short-sword away with a single block. Hit Labaka smack in the nose with the heel of his other hand. As the singer dropped, Walter caught him and slammed his head against his own car until the vamp went boneless. He threw Labaka ungently into his vehicle like a bale of hay.A weapon fired, cracking from the dark. Walter stumbled. Vamped out. Tore into the night. Three more gunshots sounded. Close. Deafening. Six seconds after vanishing into the dark, Walter reappeared, a limp man dangling over his shoulder. “I quite liked this suit,” he said casually, his old-fashioned upper-class British accent telling me more than anything that he was pissed.KeeKee and Lissa were standing inside the club, peeking out the open door, eyes and mouths wide. They knew me from college, knew about me being the queen’s godchild. But it wasn’t like I had ever displayed my fighting abilities or my magic to them. I had no idea how much they had seen.As he walked toward his car, Walter looked me over for injuries, studied the downed opponents, shook his head, and dropped the unconscious man at Berky’s feet. “This one is all yours.”The big bouncer looked from the unconscious man to Walter. “What am I supposed to do with him.”“Give him, give all of them, to the police,” Walter said, sounding eminently practical. “This looks like a terrible bit of gang warfare.”Berky looked around at all the prone bodies. “No, it doesn’t.”“Of course it does,” Walter said. “His weapon is in his suit pocket; his rounds mostly hit the club. The other rounds are inside me, so I’ll hang on to them a bit.”“No silver in them?” I asked too softly to carry. Silver was poison to vamps.“Oddly enough, no. I’m quite curious why.” |
Mud’s Corner
Weather in Wisconsin is always a roll of the die. Yesterday, it was sunny, 60, and a nippy wind. Very springlike. Today, mid-afternoon, huge fluffy flakes fell from the sky, and now there are nearly three inches of nature’s dandruff on the ground. I’d play with MY TREES, but they are buried. Besides, I think Shine, my youngest springer, pruned it last fall. Again. It used to weep. Now it’s crying that it’s upright. (Culprit below). Time to plant tomatoes!
