Saturday, November 6, 2010

Is an idle mind worse than idle hands?

Well! Why is it that the less I do, the less I want to do? Yet, when I have three stories going at once, critiquing for three, editing, working my day job AND caring for my family, I find time to do everything I need to do?

I haven't written a word for weeks. I haven't even bothered to look at any of my manuscripts.

I received a rejection for my werewolf story, Come The Blue Moon, which I expected. I'm so used to rejections from this particular publisher that the rejection doesn't even faze me, now. I have writer friends who are going great guns, winning awards, becoming finalists in prestigious writing competitions, selling books like hotcakes...

And Kiss Carson is wondering whether it's all worth it.

Well, this post hasn't been very inspirational. Hopefully I'll have some good news next post.

Oh, okay! To cheer you all up, here's an excerpt from my upcoming release, Calypso's Curse.



Israel Alexander stood on the other side of the door, blond hair tousled. Honey colored whiskers covered his cheeks and chin. He had buttoned his black overcoat to his neck and pulled the collar up to keep the chill at bay. He looked disheveled, but, oh boy, the waif look suited him.

A sensation she didn’t want to feel started at her toes and tingled to the top of her head—desire. Calypso lowered from the peephole.

“Miss James.” Israel’s voice sounded extremely loud in the quiet of early morning. He knocked again. “Hello?”

Calypso turned away from the door and pressed her back against the wall. How had he found her? She glanced around the room for a weapon should she need it. Something that would teach him a lesson for scaring her half to death—a crowbar would do the job nicely.

“Calypso, are you awake?”

Moving back to the peephole, she held her breath as she watched him. Exhaustion filled his eyes. He looked as though he needed saving. Calypso killed the urge to open the door and hug him ferociously. She drew on every ounce of willpower not to talk to him.


Please go away. She slowly slid down the wall to sit on the ground. Didn’t the man know she was already losing her mind? He didn’t need to come around in the middle of the night and harass her.

“What do you know about my brothers, Ethan and Isaac?”

At the mention of Ethan, her heart turned over. Did he say brother? The man she dreamed of acted like a medieval knight, and looked nothing like the handsome Israel.

A sheet of paper slid under her door. Heavy footsteps moved away.

After a few minutes of silence, Calypso stood and looked through the peephole. Israel wasn’t there. She retrieved the paper and read his name and cell phone number. Then, she read the note.

Please, Miss James, I need to know about my brothers. My future depends on you.

At the bottom of the page, in barely legible handwriting, she saw another message.

Someone once told me immortality was a curse.

How wise the man who said this.

Calypso crumpled the note and tossed it into the trash. She couldn’t help this man and didn’t know why he believed she could.

1 comment:

Sami Lee said...

Gosh you sound like you're in serious need of a break... and to perhaps give yourself one, Missy! Commiserations on the dreaded R. We all get them and it is hard to pick yourself back up afterward. You'll get there. Hope to see you at the meeting Tuesday.