I’ll be talking more about this next week, but there are some changes in the wind here in my little corner of North Texas. I’m being purposefully vague until all the pieces are in place. But, for the first time in a long time, I’m excited. Mom is getting better. It’s a slow road, but one on which I can see daily progress. That’s just part of it. But, as I said, I’ll have more on the changes next week. For now, let’s see if I can get everyone caught up.
By now, you should know that I had to delay the release of Designation: Frejya. The book is written and has gone through a round of edits. But my mind and my attention have not been on writing the last two months or so since Mom’s fall. I would rather delay the release–and the new date is 11/7/22–than put out a half-assed novel.
This time playing chief cook and bottle washer (among other things) has given my mind time to ruminate on future projects. I might not be writing much, but the muse has been active and there are stories on the burners, ready to go when I am finally able to sit down and put the time in to do a good job.
One of them hit me like a, well, wrecking ball last night. For the first time since Mom’s fall, I spent a couple of hours putting metaphorical pen to paper to take some notes. This is by no means close to a final product, but it will give you a taste of what will be coming down the publication pipeline in the not too distant future.
Certain things are drilled into you when you’re the daughter of a cop. That’s especially true when that cop is also one of the most well-known shapeshifters in the state, if not the country. Add to that the fact she is also a member of the Tribunal, the ruling body for paranormals in the United States and, well, you get the idea. Responsibility isn’t something you ignore, even if it comes in the form of a text message long before dawn on the first full day of a much delayed and even more needed vacation.
When that text message reads simply “9-1-1”, you don’t roll over and go back to bed, not even if there is an exceedingly sexy man sleeping next to you.
What you do, at least if you’re me, is carefully climb out of bed and pad out of the room, ignoring the fact you’re naked. Only then can you give vent to your frustration before letting just a hint of fear creep in.
That frustration turned into a string of curses as another and then another text came in, all from different numbers and all with the same message: “9-1-1”.
Heart thudding in my chest, I moved through the beach house I’d rented. In the kitchen, I hit the on button for the coffee maker. Then, spotting Mike’s shirt tossed over the back of one of the kitchen chairs, I reached for it. Probably not the best thing to start returning calls in the buff, not when at least one of them would probably demand video.
I pulled up the first text and hit the call button. Then I waited, wondering what happened and praying it wasn’t as bad as my imagination feared.
There’s more. But that gives you a taste and, no, I’m not saying more about this project because I don’t need it taking hold right now.
I have done some more playing with Midjourney AI. Not only is it fun, but it is a challenge. Specifically, it is a challenging learning how best to describe the picture in my head so it comes out using the program. Here are some examples from the last few weeks.
And, yes, they are either inspiration images for works in the pipeline or covers that still need to be done.
Now, to see if I can get some work done going over my editor’s notes on D:F. Until later!
Featured Image: Haunted library I created using Midjourney AI