At last, that’s how I feel. I’m in this mid-life slump. It’s not depression. I’m amazingly productive in my work life and my boss is leaving for a month-long vacation soon, so there’s breathing room.
But my writing… it’s so slow, in such halting, annoyingly tiny increments that I feel like I’m not getting anywhere. I did write approximately 30,000 words about two characters named Atlas and Allegra. I threw it out and found a new heroine for him, a woman who will love him as wholeheartedly as he will her. Atlas and Allegra? They weren’t a happily ever after, no matter how much I loved Allegra’s back story. But what made Allegra into the woman she was made her unlikely to fit into the Vamp Hunters world very well. They didn’t fit, and she would have ended up resenting him.
Atlas’s vamp? Her name is Eira. That’s Norwegian, not Welsh or Celtic or Gaelic or Irish. She’s named for the Norse goddess Eir.
Here’s a short excerpt (unedited):
Even as she watched, the drawer on the nightstand opened and a full, unopened box of contraceptives leapt out, dancing through the air and landing on the bed beside them.
She reached for it instinctively, while Atlas ripped at his shirt, tossing it aside in a blur of motion that was impossible. How could he –
One of his hands closed around Eira’s, trapping hers as she tried to open the box. Beneath him, open to him, vulnerability suddenly struck her. This man, this magician, was something more than a brief encounter. He was a wizard, she realized, and froze.
“I may not be mortal, but I have given myself into your care,” he said, the words echoing in her head.
He’d spoken into her mind. Her mind. Eira’s brain seized. She couldn’t breathe, her body frozen. She’d just realized, simply knew, that he hungered for her in an unfamiliar, visceral way, one he was fighting to hold back so that he could fuck her into a pleasure so blinding she’d want it again and again. That insight into his conscious thoughts was strange enough, but the telepathic communication was unnerving.
“I don’t think –” she hesitated.
“Shh,” he crooned, lowering his mouth and kissing her. His mouth was persuasive, gentle, as he urged her to forget for a moment what she’d seen, heard and sensed. While she moaned and let him convince her, Atlas put his hands to her hips, tipped her slightly, and surged back inside.
Shudders ran through her body, and he set himself to find a rhythm that drove her to the brink of madness. He gave her no time to reconsider, to think, but pushed her on. When had he donned the condom? She knew it was between them, perhaps the reason that her awareness of extrasensory perception waned, or maybe she simply was too caught up in the magic of his body as it rocked hers. Either way, Eira gave herself permission to ignore whatever made Atlas such a magical lover and let him prove he was a masterful one. Her questions could wait.
In other news, I’m expecting a new laptop soon. My Google drive has finally overwhelmed the free 15GB limit because of our collection of personal photos and I coughed up $20 for a year to get the 100GB storage. Mr. Sabine is on a business trip (which is probably why I’m blogging) and I’ve subscribed to Kindle Unlimited in hopes it is a financially viable way to keep me in smut in 2017. I don’t have anything in queue for publishing right now and that’s oddly weird and sad and frustrating for me. Even though what I do have on the market doesn’t sell well, I like knowing it’s out there.
Oh, and our teen wants to color her hair blue and go to Catholic private school next year — at the same time.
May Saint Nicholas preserve us.