(Image taken from thegraphicsfairy.com)
A little steampunk for your day.
Gideon Lynch brought his zeppelin in to the mooring station indicated by the flagman’s spastic posturing on the walkway below him. Magdalene, as a former Union Air Force corvette, was small, perfect for fast take-offs and sudden stops and easy to fit into tight spaces. All of which the flagman must have cottoned onto, because he was sending Gideon toward the tiniest slip he’d ever seen outside of a smuggler’s hideout. It was going to be a squeeze, even for Maggie.
“Run out the grapples, Cap’n?”
“Pete, there’s only the two of us.”
“Still makes you the Captain.”
Gideon laughed. “All right, First Mate Bower, run out the grapples. Asa’ll be waiting for us.” He hadn’t seen his brother in near six months, not since the day he’d come home from a shipping run and found the family in an uproar over Asa’s illicit association with the physician’s assistant.
His attempts to defend Asa hadn’t helped set matters aright and, in the end, Asa’d high-tailed it west. To make his fortune in the gold fields, he said, though Gideon thought it was more likely he wanted to avoid the constant lectures and attempts at supervising his every move. Finding himself now in the spotlight of the family’s ire, Gideon’d followed his brother’s lead. He’d taken Maggie and moved south, drifting gradually around the country like an airship without a rudder, until a telegraph from Asa sent him to San Francisco at Maggie’s best pace.
This will be a fun story to write, once I clear a few other things off the decks. Furface is staggering along–so typical of this point in the story, when creativity has to take a back seat to logic and accuracy. And there are a couple of Christmas stories hanging around, jingling in my ears.
It’s been a weird week, what with revisions and adding a whole heaping pile of word to Bite Me Tender. I can’t say I’ve gotten a whole lot of wordage done, which makes me cranky, which results in this:
I think I got him in the eye, which is awesome, considering I haven’t shot in about 6 months and I can feel it in my left shoulder already after only taking 30 pokes at the little prince. But I feel better now and once I have coffee, I will be FANTASTIC!
So, remember the last time I posted a little Furface for you? And we figured out that Glyn can talk to the werewolves’ wolves? Does it surprise anyone that Glyn’s wolf has an attitude on him that could fill the Grand Canyon?
Glyn leapt off him (Levi), the sudden cramp in his gut at the separation a pale echo of the pain in his heart. He rounded the corner into the hallway at full speed, his bare feet sure on the old wood boards, and raced up the stairs. Hi wolf whined and circled nervously inside him.
Shut the fuck up. I don’t want to talk about it.
He slammed their bedroom door behind him, the bang so loud it hurt his ears.
:That’s very helpful.:
Shut up, wolf.
The wolf sniffed and went silent, but even its silence spoke volumes. It didn’t think Connor was an issue.
Yeah, and I’m going to just leave you with that. This is going to be a fun book.
Because I found this: How to Handle a Bad Review, which breaks it down into steps. Steps! I love lists! And instructions! This made me feel all warm and fuzzy.
And lunch! Who can forget lunch? Especially when it’s homemade chowder with leftover lobster in it, made by my hubby, who is a much better cook than I.
And I got a new faucet in the kitchen! Because the old one leaked all over the place unless you had it in just the right spot.
And Goodreads Love Has No Boundaries! I’m not normally into vampire fic, but I’ve been sucked in and I’m going down in a big way. Please, please, PLEASE write more about these characters!
And the goldfish are staring at me. It’s unnerving–I think they’re planning a sortie to club me senseless and have a snack. They’re that big. And they’re right by my computer. I bet they’ve been sneaking out to use it at night.
Plan for the day:
1. Housework, before CFS hunts me down and steals my child. Not that they’d keep her–if you’ve never read O. Henry’s Red Chief story, you should. My life. I felt for those kidnappers.
2. Read, because I have Lori Witt’s and Aleks Voinov’s new Market Garden book singing its siren song on my ereader.
3. Another pass through BMT to fix up loose ends.
4. I need to find a birthday present for my 5-year-old niece. And stuffed animals are a no-no.
5. Maybe write some more on the Christmas story, because it’s sweet and hopeful and after upping the angst and “Oh crap!” level of BMT this weekend, I need a little sweet.
B.D. Heywood, a member of my crit group who self-publishes her work, has a guest post on Beyond Romance, talking about how she got into writing yaoi-style MM Romance. And she’s doing a give-away! So go read and enter!