Well, I got another five pages done on Friday, so I was pretty darn happy with that. It was still the fifth Riley, but hey, at least the muse is cooperating. I’ve got a huge 13 pages of the fifth book done so far, and no idea who the bad guy is just yet–but a I know where I want the emotional plot of this one to go, so that’s one up on all the other books 🙂
In other news…can someone tell me why things always break down at the most inconvenient times? It’s a long weekend here in Melbourne, and Saturday/Sunday were both high heat days. So, of course, the fridge decides to blow up. And being a long weekend, it’s almost impossible to catch a repair man, and even if you can snag one, they cost a sheer fortune just to get them to your house. Needless to say, we weren’t enamoured with the idea of paying someone a couple of hundred just to come out and tell us our 15 year old fridge is stuffed. We’ll wait until a regular work day to hear that cheery news. In the meantime, we’re having the joy of living out of eskies. Feels like the old camping days 🙂
And, as promised, a teaser. This is from the start of Kissing Sin, which is due out in October. Remember, it’s only gone through one lot of edits, so there may still be mistakes 🙂 Enjoy!
All I could smell was blood.
Blood that was thick and ripe.
Blood that plastered my body, itching at my skin.
I stirred, groaning softly as I rolled onto my back. Other sensations began to creep through the fog encasing my mind. The chill of the stones that pressed against my spine. The gentle patter of moisture against bare skin. The stench of rubbish left sitting too long in the sun. And underneath it all, the aroma of raw meat.
It was a scent that filled me with foreboding, though why I had no idea.
I forced my eyes open. A concrete wall loomed ominously above me, seeming to lean inwards, as if ready to fall. There were no windows in that wall, and no lights anywhere near it. For a moment I thought I was in a prison of some kind, until I remembered the rain and saw that the concrete bled into the cloud-covered night sky.
Though there was no moon visible, I didn’t need to see it to know where we were in the lunar cycle. While it might be true that just as many vampire genes flowed through my bloodstream as werewolf, I was still very sensitive to the moon’s presence. The full moon had passed three days ago.
Last I remembered, the full moon phase had only just begun. Somewhere along the line, I’d lost eight days.
I frowned, staring up at the wall, trying to get my bearings, trying to remember how I’d gotten here. How I’d managed to become naked and unconscious in the cold night.
No memories rose from the fog. The only thing I was certain of was the fact that something bad had happened. Something that had stolen my memory and covered me in blood.
I wiped the rain from my face with a hand that was trembling, and looked left. The wall formed one side of a lane filled with shadows and overflowing rubbish bins. Down the far end, a streetlight twinkled, a forlorn star in the surrounding darkness. There were no sounds to be heard beyond the rasp of my own breathing. No cars. No music. Not even a dog barking at imaginary foe. Nothing that suggested life of any kind nearby.
Swallowing heavily, trying to ignore the bitter taste of confusion and fear, I looked to the right.
And saw the body.
A body covered in blood.