Book Blitz – A Summer Like No Other by Elodie Nowodazkij

Hi there!  I’m going to be a bit scarce over the next few days, but I don’t want to ignore you guys (I’ve kind of been doing more of that than I intended, already,  because I got swallowed up by All. The. Words.

Luckily for all of us, fellow writer Elodie Nowodazkij has something special to share, so I’m going to turn this blog over to her for today. If you need me, I’ll be pitching a tent or two…take it away, Elodie (the blog, not the tent!). =)

ASLNO CoverA Broken Dreams Novella

She’s his best friend’s little sister. He’s the biggest player of them all.

They shouldn’t be together. But this summer’s just too tempting.

Sixteen-year-old Emilia Moretti’s goal for the summer is simple: forget her brother’s best friend—Nick Grawsky—ever existed. It should be easy: He’s spending his summer in the Hamptons, adding girls in tiny bikinis to his list of broken hearts. Guarantee he won’t be telling them they’re like his little sisters. This summer, Emilia won’t stay awake at night thinking about him. She’ll need flawless ballet movements to have a shot at next year’s showcase, and she’s finally ready to search for her birth parents. But when Nick decides to stay in the city, Emilia’s resolve disappears in a pirouette. Maybe it’s the spin they needed to be together. As long as she doesn’t get stuck believing in happily ever after…

Nick is tired of pretending to be the happy, let’s-have-fun guy. His father wants him to change his career from professional dancer to…lawyer. He needs to put all of his focus on dancing to prove to Daddy Dearest he’s good enough to make it big. And he may have a case of the bluest balls in history courtesy of Emilia. She’s off-limits: The bro code with Roberto even forbids the dirty thoughts he has about her. Besides, he’s not boyfriend material. He only has time for flings, for girls who don’t expect much, for girls he doesn’t want to kiss goodnight. He knows he should resist her, but he’s not sure he wants to…

At least for this summer.

It’s going to be a summer like no other.

Buy it now :) (Special price of $0.99 ends on Sunday August 2nd)

Amazon around the world * B&N * Kobo * iTunes

Giveaway Time

To celebrate the release of A Summer Like No Other, I have set up a giveaway with pretty special prizes

(including a leather bracelet from Chloe + Isabel)

You have mannnnny ways to enter and you have an entire month to do so!

Click here to participate!  Open internationally.

Thank you SO MUCH!!!

Other books by the author:

About the author

Elodie Nowodazkij was raised in a tiny village in France, where she could always be found a book in hand. At nineteen, she moved to the US, where she learned she’d never lose her French accent. She graduated with a bachelor’s degree in Modern Language & Linguistics, and later earned master’s degrees in German Cultural Studies and European Studies. Unbeknownst to her professors, she sometimes drafted stories in class. Now she lives in Maryland with her husband, their dog and their cat. She’s also a serial smiley user.

Connect with the author

Thank you, Elodie!  I’m really looking forward to kicking back with my copy once the tents are all rolled up and put away again!  Till then, I hope that everyone has a lovely weekend!

Into the Maze Once Again: Foul Deeds Will Rise: (Trueborn Weft #2) for #WeWriWa #8Sunday

Welcome to

Weekend Writing Warriors’ Eight Sentence Sunday!

It’s the weekly hop for everyone who loves to write! Sign up below with your name, blog and email and share an 8 to 10 sentence snippet of your writing on Sunday. Your post needs to be live between 12:00 noon on Saturday 07/25/15 and 9:00 AM on Sunday 07/26/15. Visit other participants on the list and read, critique, and comment on their #8sunday posts.

It’s a second chance to share a small snippet of my current writing. Most weeks, I tie them back to my WIPpet Wednesday  post, so reading both can give a deeper peek…

This ten-sentence snippet is a rough draft that follows immediately after last week’s WIPpet, First Ripening (for adult readers only; trigger warning)

Before you read on, a disclaimer:

This scene is intended for adults only. It is rated strongly R for sexual content; in addition, it contains potentially triggering material. If these aren’t your cup of tea, this might be a good post to skip – I’ll understand.

Into the Maze Once Again

He was Kaivelt in her mind, and, again and again, he steered her from thoughts of the maze, the Canivaarii, the red blood on the blue stones, and the faces…

He steered her away, until she calmed – but then, when she wasn’t fleeing the danger, reliving the horror of simply having done what was needful to save her own life, she began to focus only on this Matehunt…

He was Kaivelt in her mind, but in truth, he was not. He could be Kaivelt to her only so long as she believed him to be – but she couldn’t believe, if she could see and feel clearly…

So, having led her from the horrors, again and again, he gave her back to them, set a Hunt that led them into the maze once more – and then once more, and once more, and then again, and again…how was he able to give her his seed so many times? Never before had he been able to give so freely and so often of himself, and his seed….his blood, passing through his blood, purified –

He knew she would conceive a child of this day. It would be his Truestborn, twice carrying his blood. She would conceive, because sima garo provided this – this murder of a mother, madness of a mate, even the arytana vines that grew thick and strong enough for this bower, which he had woven when she slept, because she could scream no more. Even then, as she lay below, and he wove their nest here, there were whimpers and little sounds left over, as though she’d scream for all time if only she was able.

What happened in the maze?

Who is ‘she’?
Will she discover what is being done to her?

Why does this character want a Truestborn, to begin with?

Hunt down more of the story:

One last thing….if you’re a fan of my favorite Vulcan and the human who loves her, don’t worry. They‘re still trying to get my attention (Trip’s waving his arms, but T’Pol is just giving me ‘the stare’) and slipping bits of this and that into my head, even though they know I’m busy… so, sooner or later, they’re going to demand that I stop everything else and let them at it…or at each other…or at something else…

The point is, they’ll be back…they always are!

Want more #8Sunday? The icon is your portal!

 

“Only for a Thirtygrain”: Foul Deeds Will Rise (Trueborn Weft Series #2) for SoCS

And the stream of consciousness flows…Badge by Doobster @Mindful Digressions.

This post is part of Linda G.Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday meme -an unedited stream of consciousness piece that ties into the weekly prompt: vis.”  Use a word, or tie your post’s theme around a word, that contains the letters VIS, in that order.

Today is a rather emotional day for me, for reasons that will appear in my next post…so I’m just going to jump into this, somewhat clumsily…

Last week, I shared the opening paragraphs of Scene Thirteen of Foul Deeds Will Rise, draft #1. This week, I give you the closing paragraphs of Scene Twenty-One. No specific details on what’s going on, here, because Spoilers, but I think this sums up the connection between these sisters nicely…

Only for a Thirtygrain”

“Leave me for a thirtygrain, Aliaan,” she said.

“Leave you, Kaivaara?” The eldest turned to regard her closely, obvious though she mayhap thought it subtle. “When you are ill?”

“Only for a thirtygrain – less if I ring. I wish to make a note to be carried to Shentaa, and it’s forbidden for Untribed to see our writing.” She settled back into the chair, lifted the tea, and sipped. Not too much, at once, until she’d done what was needed; after that, she would trust in the woman who had given over so much of her living to her care.

“Are you certain sure, my Kai?” A lacing of fear, in her scent, and her gaze darted first to the tea, and then to the cupboard where the washbasin rested. It was just slightly ajar, and her focus traveled to the upper portion of the crack. Vaara stared into her drinking bowl, so that it would look like she noticed nothing. She chanced a single small swallow, and, at once, she felt something – shift – within her, some variable she didn’t yet understand.

“I will be well enough, eldest. And I am the Kai. Go, now, and let me tend to this, and then you will see me washed and ready for the rest of the hearing. A thirtygrain, mind, and no less unless I ring for you.” She attempted to keep her voice docile, so that the other wouldn’t suspect that she was able to consider.

Aliaan looked from her to the cupboard, and then back, thrice, swiftly. Certain sure, whatever it be that she wanted not Vaara to see was there, and it had bearing on her being alone, or mayhap being as the eldest would have her.

In a fivebreath, though, she was gone, and Vaara waited another tenbreath to be certain sure of it – a fiftybreath would carry a lower statistical risk, but she dared not indulge the time…she left the chair and opened the door, and there was a bottle bearing a scent that matched a trace note in the tea. Vaara spent a threebreath in setting to mind the exact position of this bottle among the jumbled linens and soaps and the bits and pieces these Untribed seemed to find so important. She held to the looking, then closed her eyes and tried to bring forth the vision of what she had seen, before she opened them again.

She did this, again and again, until she held a perfect image. And then she went, haltingly, on legs that felt as though they hadn’t been moved in a threeday, to the table where she kept her drawing supplies, and sketched the cupboard and what was within as quickly as she was able, making certain that the bottle was visibly the focal point.

She glanced at the timing-glass. Five grains near gone; so she would hasten. She took up the bottle, which was of the type of common pure clay Healers used, and scented it again, tipping it this way and that to feel and hear the way the fluid within moved within its confines – and she had again a vision of that chamber where she had grown, trapped and forgotten, save for Shentaa and Herself. Or this one – was the eldest trapping her just as surely, here, in the Kai’s Chambers?

Vaara lifted the stopper, and the liquid’s aroma rose to her, edged sharply in danger-scent. She peered inside, but it was too dark. She tipped the bottle again, and a viscous, sweet-deadly syrup reached the lip. She stared at this for a moment, and then, in a moment of inspiration such as accompanied the best of Hunts, she took up her glass stylus and dipped it into the bottle. She had twenty grains to finish, and there was not time to waste.

Why is Vaara behaving so strangely?

What’s in the bottle?

Who is Aliaan, and what does she know?

Will Vaara run out of time?

I’ve got over 60,000 words drafted, now….

I’m pretty sure I’ll finish, but when?

Come back next week, when I may or may not answer some, all, or none, of these questions!

Have you tried stream-of consciousness writing? Come join in there’s just a few simple rules. Check out the brand-new #SoCS hashtag, or

Get more SoCS right here!

Let this be your portal!

First Ripening: Foul Deeds Will Rise (Trueborn Weft Series #2) for WIPpet Wednesday

Welcome to WIPpet Wednesday, a weekly blog hop which encourages writers to move WIPs (works-in-progress) to publication by posting excerpts related to the date. It’s hosted by the lovely K.L. Schwengel, maven of bad boys, stock dogs, and flying monkeys! She‘s our fearless shepherd…or something like that, anyway

Hi there! Guess what? Nah, I can’t wait; I’ve got to tell you!

I’m on track to finish 75,000 words of Foul Deeds Will Rise, the latest in my Trueborn Weft fantasy series, by the end of the month! Since I finished plotting, and began drafting, at 5am on Saturday, July 11, and since I’ve moved from not quite 14,000 words when I posted last week’s WIPpet, to just over 53,000 at my last count, I’m a bit stunned to be able to say that!

I may need to complete the draft next month – it’s looking to be closer to 100K than 75K, maybe even a little more than that. But that’s OK- I’ve made a solid entry into this novel, and I have at least a shape and outline of what’s to come, even though the characters have their own ideas (usually better than mine, and so worth going with…).

Note: This snippet is NaNo – rough….

Here’s the premise for FDWR – and a list of links to the previous posts from this novel-in-the-making….

A young exile who loses everything she values reinvents her life in effort to save both her peoples from her vengeful half-twin.

WIPpet Math:

  • Today is July 22, 2015.
  • I offer you 22 sentences.

Before you read on, a disclaimer:

This scene is intended for adults only.

It is rated strongly R for sexual content;

in addition, it contains potentially triggering material.

If these aren’t your cup of tea, this might be a good post to skip – I’ll understand.

First Ripening

He groaned and clutched at her, the release painful, powerful, potent.

So very potent – more potent than he had been in ages; in tens of lifetimes of these short-lived beings who surrounded him.

He had forgotten the bliss and ecstasy of Matehunt, the force and pleasure of the seed springing forth from him, hot and strong, his blood seeking the egg of a willing woman’s Line, to create a new life…

He had forgotten, but now, as she tangled around him, claiming him, her mind filled with images of the other, her ill-gotten Otherworld mate, a mate she could not touch, had never touched, Tacivaar remembered –

It had never been so, before. So transforming, so consuming…

Never had he felt a woman so open, so willing, so eager to accept him, to make him her own.

She was his blood, and she was ripe.

She thought him the usurper she named Kaivelt, and she hungered for him, starved for him – used him to hide from what she had done in her maddened escape from the maze, from Kaitiiraan –

She was rid of the Kai. She would be Kai, now. And he, as her Solemate, as the giver of the blood that ran in her veins, would be hers, and he would have the power of what he gave her –

He was her Huntleader.

Even if she didn’t yet know it, he was also her mate.

Kaivelt, far back, lost in his own madness, knew what was being taken. He roused himself to fight for his child-mate – but he was easily swatted aside, now, and she, thinking herself with the boy she craved and had Hunted most of her living, did nothing, in her madness, to defend him, or to deny her Huntleader.

She was ripe. It was in her scent, and in her manner, in the way her body clung to his, would not release him, arched up when she was beneath, talons digging into his hips, instinctively demanding that he seed her. It was her first ripening; no other had laid claim, because she would accept no offer, and because none would dare make one. His seed had none other to compete with. She urged him, tightened around him, clenched her thighs, so that he could not have escaped her if he wanted to. She arched to him, rose into every thrust, every touch. She cried out her release, and she was open, so open.

What exactly is happening here, and why?

I’ll be posting the next few lines from this scene for #8sunday,  if you’d like to learn more…

Looking for WIPpet Snippets where a little more is explained, and a little less revealed? You can find those, or add your own date-related excerpt, by following the little blue froggy from WIPpet to WIPpet!

 

Many Many Words: July 22, 2015

ROWing right along on an ocean of words….

Round Three is all about reflection, for me: where I am, who I am, where I’d like to be, and who I’d like to be when I get there…

Guess what?

I did it!

“Did what?”, you say?

Well, this!

Yes, indeed! This is, in fact, my ABOVE PAR word count for Foul Deeds Will Rise!

It took ten days of serious writing, wiggled in around a good deal of living- most wonderful, but some, well, not really so much…There was chaos, lovely and otherwise, and connection, and a bit of its opposite.

I can’t say for sure that I couldn’t have done this without the Snowflake plotting, especially since my characters have taken over and are spinning my pretty plot like it’s a toy (and telling me a far more convoluted, interesting, and real story in the process)…

But I think it’s helped.

Since I am back on solid finishing footing, I’m bring back my Next Up, and will be adding in some of the goals neglected during my Quest to Catch Up.

And now, on with it!

Slightly distorted, still, but a peaceful reflection…Lava Lake, Montana, 1999. Photo by Shan Jeniah Burton.

Color-coding key:

  • Goal attained = blue with overstrike.

  • Goal in progress = green.

  • Goal-in-waiting = red.

Writing:

  • The IDIC Romance: Fit 2015 Story A Day May stories into existing, chronological Scrivener binder; fix continuity errors. Existing stories ordered through #14 (“Hey, Cinderella”); slots created for S1: “Get Out Your White Hat”, and pre – S1: “Slow Jazz Awakening”, which is a compilation of stories #1-3 of the 2014 series. Nothing new. Next up: Move forward.

Editing:

  • “Slow Jazz Awakening”: Highlight detailed notes for plot, dialogue, setting, character, devices, themes, general impressions, and things for later stories in this or other arcs. Nothing new. Next up: Highlight Plot notes.
  • Complete “Peach Liqueur Love” Deep Revision, Exercise 2. Nothing new. Next up: Reread what I have written so far, and do Exercise #2.

Social Media:

  • ROW80: Submit sponsor post; keep visits up-to-date. My sponsor post is in; visits current.
  • Blog Maintenance: Keep regular posting schedule, comments, and visits. Continue on-time posting; up the ante a bit on commenting and visiting. Kept my head above water….Next up: make some visits and respond to more comments! I love comments!
  • Share posts – mine, and others': Share generously and variously as inspired! Get out of my comfort zone a bit with this one, and explore some new ideas…Nothing this session. Next up: share! Interesting and inspiring things, funny things, things that make me go hmmmm…
  • Go on at least one social media adventure each week. I’ve been treating this like a chore – time to have fun with it! Not yet. Next up: Make this so.

Hometending:

  • Continue decluttering/beautification projects; in home and/or yard, five days weekly. I’ve got a flow now; ride the waves, and continue making improvements to our home and our quality of life. 1/5; Very light hometending; this was sacrificed to the Word Gods…or something…Next up: Begin shifting back into maintenance mode…and weed!
  • Create General Categories List of Things to Attend to Before We Move to Oregon; add specific items as/if they occur to me. Not yet. Next up: make a beginning.
  • Homeschool Administration: Submit Annalise’s test results to school district when received; rough draft IHIPs for 2015-2016 (research requirements for Grade 9), create Jeremiah’s Peer Review Panel Form. Test scores are back; Peer Review Form started. Nothing new this session. Next up: Finish what I’ve started.

Lifetending:

  • NNWM local group: Attend write-ins regularly, and check in on the Facebook and Twitter groups as inspired. Complete one critique. Yes on write-ins, and peeking at the group…critiques? Not yet. Next up: Read short scene critique.
  • Complete the two beta reads I’ve had waaay too long. Nothing new. Next up: Follow up with beta #1.
  • Meditation: Practice four times a week. Experiment with two new techniques. 3/4 for this week; twice with mandalas, and once during t’ai chi. Continued reading about mandala meditation and began practice; 1 /2 new techniques .Next up: select another technique…and begin.
  • Starfleet: Fill out application and check on summer USS Albany group meeting schedule. Nothing new. Next up: print application.
  • My beloveds: One on one time with each, doing something of value to us both, several times each week. Time with daughter and my Accomplice; my son’s been in teen hibernation mode the last few days. Next up: time with the boy; more time with everyone else.

Selftending:

  • Make time for physical activity every day; use phone app to track three time a week. 2/7 days, 1/3 with phone; Walking and t’ai chi. Next up: take the kids for a swim.
  • Practice: Attend t’ai chi regularly; begin consistent at-home practice. Aim to add second class weekly. We practiced a portion of the form in small groups; I’m going to adopt that and the opening as my at-home practice. Next up: at- home practice; begin adding Thursday class in August.

These goals are a part of

Kait Nolan’s ROW80 Writing Challenge  –

It’s also a blog hop – Find more ROWers right here!

 

“Any Trust At All”: Foul Deeds Will Rise : (Trueborn Weft #2) for #WeWriWa #8Sunday

Welcome to Weekend Writing Warriors’ Eight Sentence Sunday! 

It’s the weekly hop for everyone who loves to write! Sign up below with your name, blog and email and share an 8 to 10 sentence snippet of your writing on Sunday. Your post needs to be live between 12:00 noon on Saturday 07/18/15 and 9:00 AM on Sunday 07/19/15. Visit other participants on the list and read, critique, and comment on their #8sunday posts.

It’s a second chance to share a small snippet of my current writing. Most weeks, I tie them back to my WIPpet Wednesday  post, so reading both can give a deeper peek…

This ten-sentence snippet follows immediately after last week’s WIPpet , ”Proof Enough Already” 

“Any Trust At All”

The Huntbreaker had done her job all too well – but of what use, to begin screaming about it, nearly in the same breath?

“Your precious Niaan is seldom here, anymore. Wouldn’t it be just like her to come, murder the Kai our mother, and then vanish again into those savage Wildlands she loves so well? Fools, both of you, to place any trust at all in such as her!”

Vaara said nothing; there was no need, and this matter of speaking as they did was still tiring and often perplexing. If she had the help of the Huntbreaker –

No. Not after the killing. Not after Niaan had denied her the answers she sought, the taste of the hot fresh blood of vengeance, the moment when the woman who had tormented her, who had been ever a chaotic and destructive constant in her life, would know that she had erred, and that it was a daughter of her own Line who would exact the payment, with her fangs.

Who is Niaan?

Why did she murder the Kai?
What answers was Vaara seeking?

Why did she want to repay the Kai with her own fangs?

Here’s the premise of the story, which doesn’t give much information, but might set the stage of possibility, just a bit…

A young exile who loses everything she values reinvents her life in effort to save both her peoples from her vengeful half-twin.

Yes, that’s all I’m offering as far as explanation goes, for today – well, that, and the links to my two #SoCS Saturday posts for this draft:

  • Nothing Else Mattered (the first scene in the novel, in it’s 481 word entirety).

  • Link this Saturday’s post here when complete…

One last thing….if you’re a fan of my favorite Vulcan and the human who loves her, don’t worry. They’re still trying to get my attention (Trip’s waving his arms, but T’Pol is just giving me ‘the stare’) and slipping bits of this and that into my head, even though they know I’m busy… so, sooner or later, they’re going to demand that I stop everything else and let them at it…or at each other…or at something else…

The point is, they’ll be back…they always are!

Want more #8Sunday? The icon is your portal!

Let this be your portal!

 

Across the Firestars: Foul Deeds Will Rise (Trueborn Weft Series #2) for SoCS

Flowing along on the stream of consciousness…Badge by Doobster @Mindful Digreesssions.

This post is part of Linda G.Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday meme -an unedited stream of consciousness piece that ties into the weekly prompt: fly/flies/flew/flu/flue.” 

Disclaimer:

This scene is rated PG-13 for suggestiveness. Proceed at your own discretion.

Last week, I shared Scene One of Foul Deeds Will Rise, draft #1. This week, I give you the opening paragraphs of Scene Thirteen. Our main female protagonist, Niaan, is traveling under an assumed identity, for Reasons.

Across the Firestars

“And when she tried to convince us that the rabbits flew there!” Kilyp hooted, and gave the young woman a shove. “As though they had skinned themselves!”

“Ahh, Tuhlys – you’ve become quite an entertainment for Kilyp, at the least.”
“It is as well,” she said, softly, “As my cooking seems like as not to turn stomachs and upend them.”

Mistress Julyn smiled at her – it seemed she was ever smiling, whatever befell their small group. And, in the heart of Winter’s Knell, there was much that could befall a traveling troupe. “You need only see to the matter of meat, Tuhlys. If you wish to entertain Kilyp – in any way, that’s your dealing, and no part of our arrangement.”

Julyn’s smile gained a note of suggestion, not for the first time. Kilyp stayed ever near her, when he could manage to do so. He didn’t gift her in the manner of a Tacivaarii man who wanted to share furs with a woman. Nor did he have the complacent, posturing manner of an Untribed.

He was a man who desired her, and, in ways small and large, he showed it. Soon or late, she must needs tell him that she wanted him not – him, nor any man but Kaivelt her Solemate. But not here in the common room of this small, nestlike inn where they were passing this tenday in warmth and comfort.

No, it was a thing that must be handled gently and carefully, because Kilyp had made no trouble, and there was nothing wrong with him. It was that she had belonged to Kaivelt since she was a child, and no other could take his place with her, even though she couldn’t wholly accept him, accept that he wasn’t truly her Huntleader…

“You’ve grown quiet and sorrowful looking again, pretty Tuhlys. What can there be to make one so young so very sad? Come, lovely little rabbit, and dance with me?”

Such dancing, at the Kai’s Keep, was always a prelude to coupling. Not so among the Tacivaarii, where dancing was to tell stories, to celebrate lives or place honor at death…

But among the merchantwomen and their guardsmen, it seemed only another of their many entertainments, another way to connect with those with whom they might trade, and to pass the long hours between. It meant nothing, she thought, other than the moment.

But she had been a Trueborn Tacivaarii Huntress, once. She would be certain of what she offered, and what he accepted of her.

“I’ll dance with you, Kilyp. Here, in this room, and to music. As for any other form of dancing – know that I will not – not today, and not any other.”

He came near, studying her with his bright eyes, eyes that minded her, of a sudden, of Rachyl, with a pang that near brought tears, and caught at her breath. “Mayhap I can convince you – ”

“No, Kilyp. It’s not you. It’s a problem within me; I’m not free to dance with you in those ways. Were I free – there would be no one before you.”

“Ah, so our sweet little rabbit, our Tuhlys, has someone who has taken away her heart. Is that why you are so sad, rabbit?”

“Let us not speak on it. Let us fly in the dancing; let us pretend there is nothing else but this moment -” She bit her lip to try to keep her voice steady, and Kilyp reached to brush away her tears.

“Ah, sad little flying rabbit. Come, let me hold you, and be, for this glass, your shelter. I’ll fly with you, in the dancing, and, mayhap, for these moments, you’ll forget whatever keeps you from he who is lucky enough to have such a hold upon your soul.”

“Dance with him, my own. Dance, and find some comfort in it.”

A soft whisper in her mind, echoing in her soul. Welcome – if it was Kaivelt.

No. She wouldn’t think on it now. Now was for dancing with Kilyp…and imagining that she could fly in truth, that she was flying and dancing across the firestars to Kaivelt. She reached out to him, allowed him to pull her up and into his arms. He was roused, when he settled her close, but he said nothing of it, and did not try to force her to press into him. She lay her head upon his broad chest, his slow strong heart a soothing counterpoint to the country reels being played by the inn’s players.

And then they flew and whirled, and spun, and within her Kaivelt rejoiced at this motion, and he too was dancing, dancing with the woman in his arms and some strange liquid surging within them…

Why is Niaan with this group?

Will she regret dancing with Kilyp?

What’s all this about flying rabbits, anyway?

Who and where is Kaivelt, if he is Kaivelt?

I’ve gotten over 30,000 words drafted, in a week….will I be able to write another 45,000 in what’s left of the month?

Come back next Saturday, when I may or may not answer some, all, or none, of these questions!

Have you tried stream-of consciousness writing?

Come join in there’s just a few simple rules.

Check out the brand-new #SoCS hashtag,

and get more SoCS right here!

Let this be your portal!

I know this isn’t quite what they danced to; but I love it, and want to share!