Nocturnal Lives

Musings from the mind of Amanda S. Green – Mother, Writer, Possessed by Cats

Category: Writing (Page 2 of 9)

Countdown – 6 Days

The edits are done. Input from beta readers and editor have been reviewed and incorporated.  Dagger of Elanna (Sword of the Gods Book 2) has been converted into ePUB and one last read-through has begun. Later today, I will upload the final version in preparation of release on the 15th.

It is different reading the book on a tablet in e-book format than looking at it on the screen as a Word doc. My brain thinks more about it as a “book” instead of work. Yes, it does let me see little things that might have slipped past me — as well as the others — on the Word doc but it does something else. It lets me think about it as reader and not so much as a writer.

All I can say is, damn. Do I put my characters through a lot in this book.

I’ve had a blast writing the book. I already know what happens in the next book, at least the general outline of it. If it plays out the way I think it will, the next book will be just as much fun to write — and to read, I hope — as this one has been.

Now, I’m off to find another cup of coffee and finish checking the ePUB version. Once the few proofreading changes are applied, I’ll upload the final file to Amazon. Then I’ll take a day or two before getting back to Nocturnal Rebellion.

Don’t forget, the picture and the link above will take you to the pre-order page. Have you bought your copy yet? (Hey, don’t hat the writer for doing promo. I have kitty kibble to buy. BratCat has this thing about eating several times a day and he’s looking hungrily at my ankles right now.)

Tuesday morning thoughts

It’s going to be a short post this morning, mainly because I’m blogging at Mad Genius Club today. Go check the post out. I talk about Books-a-Million and their indie publishing print platform as well as some of the changes over on the KDP side of things.

The other day, I posted a brief snippet of what I thought might turn out to be the opening to Nocturnal Rebellion, the next book in the Nocturnal Lives series. I’ll be honest. I had hoped by writing the scene, the muse would be satisfied and let me finish the final tweaking on Dagger of Elanna (Sword of the Gods Book 2). But noooo, the book has taken hold and the muse is demanding my attention. So, it looks like the next couple of weeks will see me splitting my time between the two. Fortunately, all that is needed on Dagger is minor tweaking and the final check of the print file before taking the book life. For now, however, the e-book is available for pre-order and, hopefully, the print book will be ready to go by the time the e-book goes live.

If Rebellion continues as it started, it is going to be a roller coaster ride. When I started figuring out the plot for the book several months ago, it did not look anything like what is happening now. Of course, as I’ve said before, my muse is an evil bitch and she is loving not only throwing me for a loop with the book but also in not letting me know what is happening more than a few pages ahead at a time. So far, it’s working — or so my alpha readers have said. Well, they also told me I had to keep writing it, so I guess something is working right.

Now I’m off to find another cup of coffee — idiot dog and BratCat decided 0430 was a wonderful time to get me up. It didn’t matter that I disagreed. Sigh.

Later!

Monday morning, oh how I loathe thee

This is the morning so many employers dread. Super Bowl Monday. The day when employees drag in, suffering from too little sleep, too much over-indulgence and either too much bragging because their team won or too much angsting because their team lost. Those who supported the Falcons — or at least wanted to see the Pats lose — might admit it was a great game, especially the last few minutes. But, there is still the fact the Falcons lost after holding a 21+ point lead at one point, something no other team has done in history. So, Falcon supporters have ruffled feathers, adding to the Monday morning blues.

As for me, I started the day off much too early — thank you, BratCat — and have already been to PT. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I am firmly convinced physical therapists are frustrated sadists in their private lives and they take it out on their clients. All I can say right now is OUCH!

Which is also sort of what I’m feeling right now about my muse. Myrtle has never been an easy muse to live with. But, right now, she is taking great glee in causing me problems. Normally, when I finish a project, I need a week or so to recharge the batteries and get the new novel’s “voice” in my head. Except this time, Myrtle has different plans. I’m not officially finished with Dagger of Elanna (Sword of the Gods Book 2). Sure, it’s up for pre-order. Yay!. But there are still a few tweaks that need to be made and I need to finish the print set-up because I’m not happy with how it looked when I did it earlier. But is Myrtle letting me do it? Nooooo.

As you saw yesterday, she has ambushed me with the next Nocturnal Lives opening scene. Except now it is scenes. And, let me tell you, the book is already throwing me for a loop. Not only because I hadn’t planned on it being the next book I wrote but because of how it starts off. Worse, as I think I said yesterday, I don’t know where this is going. Myrtle is hiding more than the next few pages from me. Sigh, someone come take my muse on vacation for a week or so. Hell, I’d be happy if you’d just take her out for drinks and let her spend the night with you.

Why do I feel like Rodney Dangerfield right now when he would joke, “Take my wife — please”?

I guess I don’t need to sleep.

One more thing before I head off to do some work — after finding coffee. If you haven’t read Dave Freer’s Mad Genius Club post today, do so. He hits it out of the part with this post.

Have Some Free Promo

(This post originally appeared at According to Hoyt. I’m reblogging it here not only because I know and highly recommend most of the authors listed but also because it has a link to — wait for it — Dagger of Elanna (Sword of the Gods Book 2). Yes, it is finally live for pre-order on Amazon.)

Once more unto the breach comes the promo post! Reports of my demise may have been slightly embellished. On the contrary, the Oyster Clan has recently grown by one more minion. Granted I may look somewhat dead now, but I assure you I still have a pulse. But! Back to the matter at hand: BOOKS! In my hiatus I’ve received several new submissions. We have a new series launched, a series finished, a couple others continuing; life is good in indie Hun fiction land. Go grab a book and a nice cuppa, and enjoy the lovely winter weather from the comfort of your couch. If you’ve already read everything on offer, give a shout in the comments for some recommendations. As always, future promo post entries can (and should!) be sent to my email. Happy reading!

Jason Dyck, AKA The Free Range Oyster

Karen Myers

ON A CROOKED TRACK

The Chained Adept Book 4

SETTING A TRAP TO CATCH THE MAKERS OF CHAINED WIZARDS.

A clue has sent Penrys back to Ellech, the country where she first appeared four short years ago with her mind wiped, her body stripped, and her neck chained. It’s time to enlist the help of the Collegium of Wizards which sheltered her then.

Things don’t work out that way, and she finds herself retracing a dead scholar’s crooked track and setting herself up as a target to confirm her growing suspicions. But what happens to bait when the prey shows its teeth?

In this conclusion to the series, tracking old crimes brings new dangers, and a chance for redemption.

THE CHAINED ADEPT

The Chained Adept Book 1

A STRONG WIZARD WITH UNANSWERED QUESTIONS AND A CHAIN AROUND HER NECK.

Penrys’s past is unknown, but she’s got a better grip on her future: find out where she came from, discover what happened to her, and figure out how the unremovable chain around her neck makes her different from other wizards.

What any of this has to do with the renewal of an ugly war between neighboring countries, half a world away, is just something she’ll have to sort out, along with the rumors of wizards where they don’t belong.

Assuming, of course, that no one removes her as a threat before she can find her footing.

All she wants is a firm foundation for the rest of her life, with a side helping of retribution, and if she has to fix things along the way, well, so be it.

Laura Montgomery

SLEEPING DUTY

Waking Late Book 1

Gilead Tan and Andrea Fielding survived their stint in the military, got married, signed up to emigrate to a terraformed colony world, and went into cold sleep for the journey from Earth. While they slept, the starship went through the wrong fold in space and settled for a different world, a wild world. Three centuries after the founding of a colony on the uncharted planet, Gilead awakens to find humanity slipped back to medieval tech and a feudal structure. Worse, the king who wants Gilead awake won’t let Gilead awaken his wife.

Amie Gibbons

PSYCHIC UNDERCOVER (WITH THE UNDEAD)

A Paranormal Mystery

Vampires aren’t the only things that go bump in the night…

Singers are a dime a dozen in Nashville, so despite her mama’s urging, psychic Ariana Ryder’s working her way towards a career in law enforcement at the FBI, one tray of fetched coffee at a time, instead. She’s got an extremely handsome boss, a dancing partner among the lab techs, and a solid year as the team rookie under her belt…

Right until the director gives her a big break, working undercover as a singer at a club to investigate why it’s being targeted by a serial killer. This might have worked better if the club didn’t happen to be a vampire nest.

Now, with the vampire’s investigator, Quil, on her case, the jurisdictional battle isn’t the only thing heating up as they race to solve the case before the killer strikes again!

Cyn Bagley

DRAGON BOY

Hilda’s Inn Book 2

So who or what is Davi Dracson?

If you’re down on your luck, come to Hilda’s Inn for a game of dice and cheap ale. The hundred-year-stew has been stewing for a hundred years and the fire never burns out.

Except Hilda’s Inn is under new management, and Hilda is on the run with Davi, a dragonling. There will be dwarfs, ogres, dragons, and magical trinkets between Delhaven and Koenigstadt, the king’s city.

Don’t forget that the woods are not a safe place—the Draugr is lurking and hungry. And, he has a taste for magic.

Henry Vogel

THE UNDERCOVER CAPTAIN

Captain Nancy Martin Book 2

Unwillingly drawn out of her annual drunken stupor, Captain Nancy Martin, Retired, finds herself involuntarily reactivated. Her assignment is to help Special Agent Erica Hampton solve the disappearance of an entire school’s student body. Hampton’s superiors suspect a slaver ring has kidnapped the children, to sell them on a rim world beyond the Terran Federation’s borders.

When Nancy and Erica discover the truth behind the abductions, they realize their deadline is quite literal, and much closer than they thought. When the gloves come off, the missing children couldn’t have anyone better fighting for their lives.

It will take every bit of skill Nancy and Erica have to track down the villains behind the disappearances. Defeating them will be a different matter entirely.

Amanda Green

DAGGER OF ELANNA (SWORD OF THE GODS BOOK 2)

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Cait Hawkener has come to accept she might never remember her life before that terrible morning almost two years ago when she woke in the slavers’ camp. That life is now behind her, thanks to Fallon Mevarel and the Order of Arelion. Now a member of the Order, Cait has pledged her life to making sure no one else falls victim as she did.

But danger once more grows, not only for Cait but to those she calls friends. Evil no longer hides in the shadows and conspirators grow bold as they move against the Order and those who look to it for protection. When Cait accepts the call to go to the aid of one of the Order’s allies, she does not know she is walking into the middle of conspiracy and betrayal, the roots of which might help answer some of the questions about her own past.

A Tease

I’m not exactly sure where this scene will occur in Dagger of Elanna. Well, that’s not quite right. I know but I’m not telling. VBEG.

A cold wind, as cold as his master’s heart, whipped through the trees. The moisture in the air, not quite frozen but near enough not to matter, felt like knives cutting through his exposed skin. Snow covered the ground for as far as he could see. What he would not give to be warm.

Shivering, he pulled his hood tighter around his face, swearing as he stumbled over something hidden by the snow. Plodding along at his side, the dappled gelding whickered in ill-temper. Neither of them liked being out. Unfortunately, he had no choice. If he wished to continue living, he had to do as he had been told.

Twelve hours earlier, he had been warm, well-sated and safe inside his small cottage. Then a knock sounded at his door. Little had he known that simple action would change his life and not for the better.

Not that it had been unexpected. He had known the summons would one day come. That was the price he had to pay for practicing the black arts. Blood magic was only part of his repertoire and that would earn him death should he ever be brought before the Imperial courts. But should the Imperium discover his other talents, death would not come fast enough. So, when his master sent for him, he knew he had no choice. He either did as instructed or he died. The choice had been an easy one, at least at first. Now, knowing what he did about his master, he wished he had refused.

Slogging through the snow, he knew the chances of successfully completing his mission were slim. Had it been otherwise, he never would have been sent for. His master preferred keeping him and his pets close to hand. What he had not known when he left his cottage was how bad the situation would turn out to be. Now he feared he would not be the only one to suffer his master’s wrath.

Death would be welcome compared to what his master would do to him and all those he cared about should he fail in this mission. A mission he never would have been forced to accept but for the failure of that bastard son Wolf. If his master had asked sooner, he would have told him not to trust anything so important to a skin walker. They were well-suited for violence but not for stealth or patience. Their bloodlust all too often led to them making mistakes. The fact Wolf and his pack were now dead, Gareth knew his prediction had been right.

Wolf and his pack would not be the only ones to die. Their failure to complete their mission would soon result in the deaths of all they cared for. Their master would see to it. When failure happened, those responsible, should they still live, tended to die painfully as did their families. Those who successfully did as instructed were, on the other hand, well-rewarded.

Not that it helped him any just then.

As he neared the edge of the tree line, he glanced across the wide open area of fields and training rings. Beyond them lay the Citadel. The home of the thrice-damned Order of Arelion had been built to be easily defended. Resting atop a tall hill, almost a mesa, three sides formed cliffs leading down to the river. The fourth side, the side he currently surveyed, was nothing but open land, easily watched and guarded. Anyone approaching, either across the fields or by the trade road, would be seen long before they reached the main gates.

His master knew that but cared not. He had given Gareth one order: watch the Citadel. Report who came and went and, should the opportunity arise, kill the girl.

All of which would be easier said than done, as Wolf and his pack discovered. At least he had one tool Wolf had not. He had his pet.

At the thought of his only companion other than his horse, he turned to the gelding. A slight smile touched his lips at the sight of the black raven perched on the pommel of the saddle. Except, when one looked closely, they would see it was not a raven. In fact, it was not alive, not in the strict sense of the word. The bird was a construct, something created from blood and magic. His blood and his magic, as well as the blood of others. Bound to him, the construct was as much a part of him as was his heart or brain.

That alone was enough to turn his blood cold as he looked once again toward the Citadel. Whatever his master might do to him should he fail paled when he considered what the Order might do should they discover him spying on them. To begin, the would destroy the construct and that would be like destroying a part of himself. It would very much be like stripping him of his soul.

The Order did not understand the glory, the power, of blood magic. They were too bound to the Lord and Lady, too blinded to the power they could wield if they would just allow themselves to stray even a little from the Codes. Because of that, they would strip him of his magic, of all that made him. He had no doubt if he failed to answer their questions, they would imprison him or worse. They might allow him to live, a pale shadow of himself, but his family would not be so lucky. If such an existence could be called lucky. No, his master would make sure those he cared about suffered as he should have.

He couldn’t even run. Damn his luck. He should have trusted his instincts the day before when the knock sounded at his door and the messenger said their master wanted to see him. It had been years since the man, if he could still be called such, had issued such a summons. In that moment, every instinct had screamed for him to run and hide. It had warned him not to answer the door. But, unfortunately, his had become over-confident. Ego had overridden common sense and now he found himself in a situation with only two possible outcomes — death or worse.

Standing in the shadows of the trees, he closed his eyes. For a moment, the world seemed to shift under his feet. A moment later, he looked out of this construct’s eyes. He heard the sounds of the forest around them through the construct’s ears. It was time to set the raven to watch. Then he could locate a safe place to set up camp.

A few moments later, he opened his eyes and extended his arm. He watched as the construct hopped onto his gloved fist, much as a living bird would have. The raven cocked its head to one side as he held it close. The feathered head rubbed against his cheek and he smiled slightly. The bond between them was strong and growing stronger. That meant the raven could keep watch on the Citadel while he remained out of sight. That was the best plan, the only plan, he had been able to come up with on such short notice. His master might not approve but his master was not the one risking life and limb watching the Order.

“You know what to do, my pet.” His fingers caressed the construct’s head. “Watch them. Let me see any who come and go. Look for the girl. She is our target. Find her. Our lives depend on it.”
The construct nodded, almost human-like, and unfurled its wings. A moment later, Gareth lifted his arm and watched as the bird took flight. It would keep watch and let him know if trouble neared.

As the construct wined ever closer to the Citadel, he turned and moved further into the trees, the gelding pacing after him. If he wanted to be warm that night, he had best find some place to set up camp. The last thing he wanted was to be forced to cold camp, especially with more snow moving in.

Hopefully, there would be a cave nearby he could ensorcel, one where no one could see his fire or sense his magic. Then he would be safe to practice his craft and find a way to complete his mission without it costing him his life.

***

Dagger of Elanna is the second book in the Sword of the Gods trilogy. Here’s some information about the first book in the series.

Sword of Arelion (Sword of the Gods Book 1)

War is coming. The peace and security of the Ardean Imperium is threatened from within and without. The members of the Order of Arelion are sworn to protect the Imperium and enforce the Codes. But the enemy operates in the shadows, corrupting where it can and killing when that fails.

Fallon Mevarel, knight of the Order of Arelion, carried information vital to prevent civil war from breaking out. Cait was nothing, or so she had been told. She was property, to be used and abused until her owner tired of her. What neither Cait nor Fallon knew was that the gods had plans for her, plans that required Fallon to delay his mission.

Plans within plans, plots put in motion long ago, all converge on Cait. She may be destined for greatness, but only if she can stay alive long enough.

A Few More NaNo Thoughts

Well, NaNoWriMo is now three days old. It has been interesting to read the comments of writers around the interwebs as they struggle to decide whether or not to do NaNo this year. I recognize many of the comments because I’ve made them. NaNo isn’t for everyone, at least not in its “official” form. However, I do believe it can help every writer even if for different reasons.

The original purpose for NaNo was, iirc, to prove you could write a novel in a month. Note, that’s “write”. It isn’t to have a publishable novel. It isn’t even to have an edited novel. It is to put out a rough draft. That is something a lot of folks don’t seem to get. Hell, it is one of the things that kept me from doing NaNo for a long time.

Then there is the word count requirement. This is my biggest issue with NaNo. Most writers simply can’t do 50,000 words in a month. At least not consistently. Why? Because they have full-time jobs that don’t include writing a novel. They have families. In other words, they have real lives to take into consideration and, frankly, writing comes after that.

You can probably guess by all that how I look at NaNo. It is a tool to keep me on track. It isn’t all that different from what I do during the rest of the year. Normally, I don’t try to hit the 50k mark during NaNo. The reasons vary but usually because I’m mid-book when NaNo hits. The spirit of NaNo is that you work on only one title to get the 50k words.

Well, that’s a rule I’m going to break this year. Why? Because, as usual, I’m mid-book. I will finish Dagger and then get started on Victory from Ashes. In between will be a short story or novella as well. So, I’ll probably get the 50k words but they won’t all be on one novel. If the gods of NaNo don’t like it, screw ’em. I’m writing and that’s what it is all about.

What I don’t want to do is discourage writers who aren’t taking part in NaNo — and, yes, I do see some of those who are doing it criticizing those who are. Of course, conversely, there are those writers who aren’t taking part who come across as oh-so-superior in their condemnation of the process. To each his own but what everyone needs to remember is that each person’s process is different. If NaNo helps, even if you adapt it to suit your writing needs, then run with it. Take what you learn from the process and apply it once NaNo is over.

Even if you aren’t doing NaNo officially, why not make a monthly goal and track it? For those of you who are having trouble getting a new project started, don’t sweat it. Challenge yourselves to simply write for five minutes every day (or whatever you think best fits your schedule). No word count. No requirement that you write on a work in progress. The only thing you have to do is write. One of the things that helps me most when I’m in that position — something that happens too often for my peace of mind — is to free write. Just sit down at my desk and write whatever comes into my head for ten minutes. I do it longhand, pen and paper. It really does seem to open the creative channels after a few days.

Okay, so for accountability — and I promise, I’m not going to blog about NaNo every day this month — I wrote 3527 words yesterday. It was actually more because I spent the morning working on inputting character descriptions, setting notes, etc. In other words, building a story bible. Today, I’m running behind because I have yet to start the “work day”. But that will happen soon.

For those of you doing NaNo, good luck. For those who aren’t, set your own goals and do your best to meet them. You have stories to write, stories I want to read.

Accountability

This could easily become a political post but, since I am already late getting to work this morning, I’m going to limit it to writing. As I posted yesterday, NaNoWriMo is upon us. It is a great way to hold yourself to some level of accountability in your writing — not so much in quality but in quantity. If you participate in the “official” NaNo, you are pledging to do your best to write 50,000 words in 30 days. You can log into your NaNo account and update your word count daily or as you want. It will show you not only how many words you’ve written, but how many you have left to meet your goal, your average word count per day, etc. It is a tool and should be looked at as such and nothing more.

That’s important because there are a lot of folks out there who flinch and shy away when they see the 50k word requirement. But here’s the deal. It isn’t set it stone. Just like New Year’s resolutions, it is something to shoot for. No one is going to hit your knuckles with a ruler if you don’t make the goal. It is nothing more than a tool to be used to help each of us establish a writing habit, one we can continue after November ends.

But, not everyone thinks they can meet the goal. Some folks, as I said, shy away when they see the number of words. Others know they are slow writers — and there is nothing wrong with that. I’ve said before and will say it again, there is no one right way write. Everyone’s process is different.

That doesn’t mean you can’t do NaNo. You can still sign up. You can use their tools, both in tracking your word count and in finding inspiration. Or you can do your own version of NaNo and set your own goals. The key is to set a goal and try to meet it. It doesn’t matter if it is 5k words or more or less. The goal is to write.

I honestly had no intention of doing NaNo this year. Then, as I said yesterday, I had a conversation with a friend and we decided to hold one another accountable for the next six months or so. Our goal? To publish a new piece every month. It can be a short story or novella or novel. Me? I know I can’t do a new novel a month. But I can put out a short story or novella on those months I’m not publishing a novel. Better yet, those don’t take as much time to write and can be done while watching football or — gag — Survivor with my mother. So I give up some time gaming during the evenings. That’s all right.

All that led to me deciding to go ahead and do NaNo. It is another way to hold myself accountable. But, because I have that dreaded word counter staring me in the face, I have to fight my own tendency to shy away. I’ll still be here blogging. I’ll update my NaNo count if not daily at least several times a week.

I will, hopefully, not only hold myself accountable but will meet the 50k word goal.

Now it’s time to make another cup of coffee and get to work. Oh, and the word count for yesterday was 4,007 words, not counting the blog post. If I count that, I did over 5,400 words. Hopefully, I can keep that up because I know there are going to be days this month when I won’t get to write. NaNo falling in November, with its Thanksgiving holiday, always messes me up. I just have to figure out how not to let my count diminish too much during the last half of the month. That is where I have to maintain my accountability.

Fingers crossed I manage to do so.

Wednesday

This morning started much too early. It finally dawned on me, and this time it made sense, why the opening to Dagger of Elanna had been bothering me. So, I’ve been up since 0530 writing. I now have the rough opening section and, yes, it is a section to the book. I think it was yesterday’s post about Consistency that finally jogged the last of the correction out of the back brain where it had been percolating for the last month or so. Now I know what was bothering me and the solution to the problem feels right.

So, I have written several thousand words today already and have drunk more coffee than I should have. Yes, there actually is a limit to coffee without food that I can drink before the stomach starts rebelling. I’ve reached that point. So now I need to go in search of food.

The good news is that this change to the book won’t delay it’s release. I’ll be able to write the final draft fo the new section over the course of the rest of this week. From my notes and from what I’ve already drafted out, it doesn’t impact the rest of the story in any way except make it flow more smoothly from the last book to this one.

The way I look at it, it is also good because it gives me something to do tonight besides watch the debate. That has to be a good thing, right?

I’ll be back with a real blog post later today. In the meantime, food and maybe a short nap. Then it will be time to get back to work.

Witchfire Burning is now live!

Witchfire Burning (Eerie Side of the Tracks Book 1) is now live.

Long before the Others made their existence known to the world, Mossy Creek was their haven. Being from the wrong side of the tracks meant you weren’t what the rest of the world considered “normal”.

Normal was all Quinn O’Donnell wanted from life. Growing up on the “wrong side of the tracks”, she had been the only normal in the family. The moment she was old enough, she left and began life as far from her Texas hometown as possible. Now she has a job she enjoys and a daughter she loves more than life itself. Their life is normal, REALLY normal, until her daughter starts calling forth fire and wind.

Quinn knows they must go back so her mother can help five-year-old Ali learn how to control her new talents. But in Mossy Creek nothing is ever simple. Quinn’s mother has gone missing. Secrets from Quinn’s past start coming back to haunt her.

And the family home is more than a little sentient.

Can Quinn keep everyone — particularly Ali — safe? And will she ever get back her illusion of normalcy?

Witchfire Burning is the start of a new series. However, it takes place in the same town as Slay Bells Ring and some of the same characters are present in both. Both have a little bit of mystery and a little bit of romance. Witchfire adds in an urban fantasy note as well. While it wasn’t a book I had planned when I sat down at the beginning of they year to figure out my publication schedule, it’s one that decided it needed to be written and I had a blast doing it. I hope you guys all enjoy reading about Quinn and company as much as I enjoyed writing about them. Also, for those who prefer print versions, it should be available in approximately two weeks. I’ll make an announcement when that version is ready.

Publication notes and a snippet

As I noted in earlier posts, I got waylaid by my muse last month and wound up having to write an unscheduled book. It happens sometimes. I don’t like it when it does but I have learned not to fight the muse when she gets into that mood. Anyway, Witchfire Burning is finished, has been edited and proofed and is ready for publication. It will go live on Amazon Friday, assuming everything goes right, and the print version will be available in a couple of weeks.

Because of the Halloween season, and because Witchfire Burning is coming out this week, I’ll be releasing the novella Skeletons in the Closet on the 25th of this month. Skeletons shares a setting and some characters with Witchfire Burning. Skeletons is the first of what will probably be three novellas centering on Lexie Smithson and her rather unusual family, even by Mossy Creek standards.

Dagger of Elanna will be released on November 22nd, fingers crossed. The book is finished but needs some more work on the editing front before I send it off to beta readers and then my editor. I also need to talk with my cover designer to see if we are on the same page regarding the cover image and typography or if we need to do some reworking of it.

After that will come Victory from Ashes. I’d like to have it out before the end of the year but I’m not making any promises. At the same time, I need to be working on the next Nocturnal Lives book. I’ve been putting it off because it will probably be the last book in the series. No, I’m not leaving Mac and company behind but that particular story arc is coming to an end. There will be some short stories and novellas here and there until I figure out how to handle the next “chapter” in their lives.

Series and series ends have been in my mind of late. I think we have all read series that kept going long after the author should have ended them. The characters either quit growing or they turn into something that bears little resemblance to the character we first knew and loved. The author writes in a way that you wonder if they no longer like the series. I am seeing this happen now with several series I have enjoyed reading. One I have quit buying altogether. One is no longer on my buy it as soon as it comes out — of course, part of that is my refusal to pay $13.99 or more for an e-book. The third has just dropped from my buy the hardcover to wait for the e-book to go on sale. So I want to be able to wind up this current story arc in a satisfactory way for the readers and the characters and then start a new arc that will keep my attention as well as my readers.

So, that’s my schedule for the next six months or so. Well, almost my schedule. There will also be at least one more short story in the Honor and Ashes universe, probably coming out shortly before Victory from Ashes. Over the next few weeks, I’ll figure out my schedule for next year and post it. Of course, I’m afraid of doing that because Myrtle the evil muse seems to take that as a challenge to see how many times she can pull me out-of-schedule and force me to write something I hadn’t planned on.

And now for the snippet. This is the opening chapter from Witchfire Burning. A version of the first part appeared on this blog about a month and a half ago. Those of you who read Mad Genius Club will recognize most, if not all, of the snippet. However, since I hadn’t posted it all here, I thought I would today. As with everything here, all rights reside with me. Copyright 2016 by Amanda S. Green

Chapter One

It’s never easy going home, especially when you left under less than ideal circumstances. But that’s the situation I found myself in. It might never have happened if it weren’t for my daughter, the light of my life. Four months ago, Ali turned five. A month after that I finally admitted she presented challenges I didn’t know how to deal with. Fortunately, at least in some ways, my mother did know how to handle my special little girl. Like it or not, that meant returning home to Mossy Creek, Texas, smack dab in the middle of the buckle of the Bible belt.

And that made life very interesting for the citizens of Mossy Creek where normal was not something you encountered every day.

So I called my mother, scheduled a leave of absence from work and made our plane reservations. There were a few stops and starts and the trip had been delayed twice. But now our bags were packed and Ali and I were about to walk out the front door. That’s when my pocket started vibrating. Well, to be honest, it was the cellphone in my pocket that started vibrating but you know what I mean. For a moment, I considered ignoring the call. I knew from the ringtone it wasn’t my mother or any of the rest of the family. As far as work and most of my friends knew, Ali and I had already left town. Even so, years of conditioning had my hand digging into my jeans pocket before I realized it.

“Momma, we have to go!” Ali tugged at my free hand, pulling me toward the door.

“Hang on, sweetheart.” I glanced at the display, recognizing the area code if not the number. “Go make sure you didn’t leave anything you want to take with you. This won’t take long. I promise.” I waited until she raced toward her bedroom before answering the call. “Hello?”

“Moira Quinn O’Donnell?” a woman asked.

“Yes.” A hint of concern fluttered in my stomach. She might have been calling to sell me siding or solar panels or the like but I doubted it. Something about her voice not only sounded serious but official. Besides, she had used my full name, something very few knew.

What can I say? When you grow up with the name Moira and your mother insists on the proper Irish pronunciation and you live in Texas, let’s just say it is easier to go by your middle name, especially if that name is easily pronounced.

“Ms. O’Donnell, my name’s Carli Sanderson. I work with Julianne Grissom.”

My brows knitted into a frown. “What can I do for you, Ms. Sanderson?”

“Ms. O’Donnell, I don’t want to worry you, but have you spoken with your mother recently.”

That flutter of concern spiked and I swallowed hard. Whenever someone started a statement with “I don’t want to worry you,” it usually meant there was something to be worried about. If that wasn’t enough, Julianna Grissom and I were friends going back to childhood. If trouble wasn’t brewing, the call would have been from Annie Caldwell. Julianna Grissom was her very professional, all attorney persona. I closed my eyes and counted to ten. Then I looked toward the hallway, making sure Ali was still safely in her room. Whatever was going on, I most definitely did not want to worry her.

“I spoke with her two days ago. Why?”

“Ma’am, Ms. Grissom asked me to check with you. We don’t know any of the particulars, only that the Sheriff’s Department attempted to do a welfare check on your mother after she failed to meet friends yesterday. While there’s no evidence of foul play or, to be perfectly honest, of anything being wrong, they haven’t been able to make entry into the house to be sure.”

I closed my eyes and breathed deeply. I had a pretty good idea why the deputies hadn’t been able to enter the house. Unless I was badly mistaken, they hadn’t even been able to enter the yard. That was just one of the reasons why I’d moved to Montana more than ten years ago. In Mossy Creek, when someone said you lived on the wrong side of the tracks, they weren’t talking about your financial status or social standing. Far from it, in fact. Life in Mossy Creek had been different from the day the town was founded. Mundane mixed with supernatural and, well, my mother might not be Serena Duchamp but she had been known to cast more than a spell or two.

Then there was the house. I swear it is more alive than a lot of folks I could name. If it did not want to let someone in, nothing, not even a battering ram, would get the doors open. The only thing keeping me from panicking was the belief the house would not keep help out if my mother needed it. Me, it never hesitated to try to lock me out. But Mom belonged there and it would protect her.

At least I hoped it would.

“What can I do?”

“Ms. Grissom said you were coming to town today. Is that still your plan?” Sanderson asked.

“It is.” I glanced at my watch. Ali and I were going to have to hurry if we wanted to make our flight. “Assuming no problems with our connecting flight, my daughter and I should be in town by five.”

“With your permission, I will let the sheriff know. Ms. Grissom would like you to stop by the office when you get here. Hopefully, we will know more by then.”

“All right.” I thought for a moment. “Have you checked with either my sister or my brother to see if they’ve heard from our mother?”

“They are my next calls, ma’am.”

“All right. Tell Ms. Grissom I will give her a head’s up when I reach Dallas.” I didn’t wait for her to respond. Instead, I ended the call and stuffed the cellphone back into my pocket. I had a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach but there was nothing I could do about it, at least not until I reached Mossy Creek. But it did necessitate a slight change in what I packed and in my plans not to check a suitcase.

“Ali, you about ready?” I called from my bedroom as I knelt just inside my closet. There, bolted to the floor, was a safe. Inside were my service weapon, several other handguns along with my badge, ID and a few other items. Blowing out a breath, I retrieved an HK .45, pancake holster, ammo and my badge and ID. “Ali?” I repeated as I secured everything in a small, hard-sided case which I locked and then dropped inside my bag that now would have to be checked.

“Momma, can I take Ruffles?” She stood in the doorway, a battered teddy bear almost as big as her in her arms.

“No, baby. Not this time. Why don’t you take Freckles instead?” I asked, referring to a smaller but equally beloved teddy bear.

“Okay.” She grinned and raced back to her room.

Five minutes later, we pulled out of the driveway and I did my best to put Sanderson’s call out of my mind. This was Ali’s first plane ride and I knew she was excited. The last thing I wanted was to worry her. After all, as far as she knew, this was a fun trip to see her grandma. She did not need to know that grandma had apparently gone missing and we might not be able to get into the house because it didn’t like me.

Heaven help me, how was I going to explain the house, not to mention everything else, to a five-year-old?

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