archived from livejournal
Remember that little Civil War short story I was working on a few months ago? I’m thrilled to announce that it’ll be included in a US Civil War anthology from Drollerie Press, including stories by Laura Anne Gilman and Angela Korra’ti! Watch for it to be released end of October. Isn’t the cover lovely?
Are you sick of plotting yet? I certainly am. I’ve almost come to the place where I’m going to start writing, even if I don’t have all the details figured out. I feel stuck, mired in the mud, and I need progress. Again, we come back to “do what works for you.” If the process becomes painful, boring, or tedious, why are you still doing it? However, I know from past experience that if I rush too much, I’ll have more revisions to make in order to tighten the story up. The more thinking and planning I do now, the better the first draft will be. I don’t want to spend a year revising this story — in fact, I’d really be happy if I could submit it by the end of the year. (That’s my unofficial goal.)
Loosely, this stage ties to the spreadsheets I showed in the last post — but they’re not quite exactly the way I was taught by the Witch. Originally, I learned to take a story and break it into 10 chunks, called blocks since they’re the building blocks of the story. Act 1 contains 3 blocks, Act 2 contains 5, and Act 3 contains 2. The hero’s journey lies very nicely on top of the blocks:
This helps you define the structure and pacing of the story and for the most part, this really resonates with me. Where I ran into problems (creating those spreadsheets) was with the Maya thriller, where I had three major story lines all converging in the last half/third of the book. I needed a bit more space to keep track of what was happening — so I technically added more “blocks” to the Acts. It was more of a spacing/usability decision than a structure decision — I couldn’t fit all the details I needed into 2 tiny columns (blocks) for Act 3!
The point I’m trying to make is that structure is well and good — but it should be fluid and flexible too. If the story you’re writing feels like it needs 3 blocks for Act 3 instead of 2, who cares. The important part is that you recognize Act 3 should be roughly the last 1/4 of the story and should move very, very quickly. Act 2 should be the meatiest and encompasses roughly 50% of your story. Exactly how many blocks that means is up to you. So feel free to modify this process for yourself, and for each book.
With Victor’s story, I don’t need nearly as much space to write out the rough details of the Block. I only have 2 POVs. I have the main story line of Victor and Shiloh’s romance, wound into the premise of the story, that it takes place on a reality show. I have a subplot about an industry spy. And that’s it! The real meat of the story is the relationship and the conflicts that arise because of the show — which feeds directly into the romance, because Shiloh crafted this show down to the littlest detail, for him.
One fun thing that can help you think about structure and story at the same time is to NAME the blocks something meaningful to you and the story. I had the idea this morning that I should base the blocks on the idea of episode titles for the show. Not all of them are show titles, but this will definitely give you an idea of what kind of story this is going to be.
Block One – The Pitch
Block Two – Try Outs
Block Three – Premiere
Block Four – Serving Your Master
Block Five – Loving Your Master
Block Six – Do You Know Your Master’s Hand?
Block Seven – At Your Master’s Pleasure…or Displeasure
Block Eight – Miss Belle’s Thanksgiving
Block Nine – Coming Out Ball
Block Ten – V’s Gift
After all our brainstorming and character building fun, now it’s time to begin adding structure to your story. This is where you weld into place the foundation and girders that will hold up your storyscraper.
When I first began writing, I didn’t think about structure at all. I had a story to tell, and I told it. As I learned more about Story and the writing craft, I realized there were some things I’d done involuntarily. These things are inherently part of storytelling — keeping the reader involved in a story, speeding up the pacing or slowing it down, throwing more rocks at your character stuck up in that tree. But for awhile, I remember being terribly confused. I suddenly knew why I’d done certain things, but then the how began to waiver. If I’d done something naturally, how could I force it to happen now?
Trust the magic. It’s there. You’ve been mixing a potion from the very start of storybuilding. Adding a framework for the story to hang onto will not damage the magic. On the contrary, it will give it a place to shine.
Knowing the structure of the story helps you guess the length too. Say you have a really big “candybar scene” already in mind, but you have no idea how far into the story that scene will play out. Is it in the first third? The last third? Somewhere in the middle? Thinking about structure — and specifically the hero’s journey — will help you figure out in which “Act” the scene lies.
The level of detail you define at this point of Storybuilding is entirely up to you and the story you’re writing. Don’t be surprised if one story wants more work than others — my process changes a little with each story I write. I’ve known people who plotted out to great detail with pages and pages of outline and scene details. I’ve also known people who only have a vague idea of the ending and that’s what they’re writing toward.
The whole point of this exercise is to get a story to the place where you can successfully begin writing. By “successfully” I mean that you’re setting yourself up to FINISH THE BOOK. In the end, that’s the only victory. Do whatever you need to do to finish the book. Plot a lot — plot only a little. Write up detailed character sketches — or just a few emotional letters. Whatever you need to. Finish. The. Book. You can plaster over holes, demo entire rooms or floors of the storyscraper if you need to, LATER. You can’t see enough of the Story structure and how it fits into the skyline you envisioned until you finish the first draft. Renovation Nightmares will begin later. 
If you at least know the ending of the book, then you have a target to shoot for. If you know the major inciting incident that sets the story in motion, then you know how to write the first 100-120 pages of the book. If you can get a few additional key scenes or surprises laid out in your mind, then you’ve got something to write to in the middle. How much more detail you add at this point is entirely up to you.
Personally, how much work I do depends on the length of the story. Ironically, very short and very long pieces take about the same amount of work. In a short story, you need to choose the scenes very, very carefully. A good short story is still going to have a character changing in some memorable way, and the few precious words must reflect those changes quickly. A long (e.g. 100K or more) story has a lot of Deadly Middle Ground to conquer. If I don’t have a few key turning points already identified, I’m going to get stuck halfway over the mountain, and that’s not a good place to be.
There are a ton of great Hero’s Journey links available on the internet. Also check out our character clinic and Left Behind & Loving It categories; my friend Jenna wrote up a great post about how she uses the hero’s journey. I refer back to Vogler’s The Writer’s Journey constantly.
Minimally, I like to know the following journey points of a story before I begin writing (and why). I do a lot of this brainstorming on paper, and then when I know the rough idea of the “scene,” I write out a card for it. One card may spawn another idea, so I jot that down. Think about reactions – you can get another card or so for each main POV character after a turning point scene. How did Victor feel when THIS happened? What’s he going to do now?
Now you may feel as exhausted as your characters, but I promise, nothing, absolutely NOTHING, compares to the rush you’ll feel when you type:
The End.
P.S. If spreadsheets don’t scare the crap out of you, you may find these helpful. These are filled out for the Maya thriller. The character rows are the major players that I needed to track through the story, even if they didn’t have a POV. Note that I didn’t do this much plotting before the first draft — this level of detail came during Revision Xibalba.
The Bloodgate Codex spreadsheets
If you’re interested in the blank templates, I’ll post them later — I don’t have them handy on this computer.
Continuing our brainstorming fun, pull out your notes from the character post. Character IS Plot, so one of the best ways to get some plotting ideas is to take your characters in hand and put them through their paces. For each of the three main techniques I use to develop character, I ought to be able to get some scene ideas. If not, then I haven’t spent enough time making this character deep and compelling. I’m going to do this for each main character, and each technique. For blog purposes–and to keep the story fresh for the readers who might be tagging along–I won’t post every single thing here.
So pull out your index cards, paper, etc. whatever you’re using, and get crazy with those ideas!
1. Greatest Strength/Greatest Weakness. There are several ways you can use this to generate plot ideas.
2. The Character Letter: The whole purpose of the character letter is to explore backstory — in particular, defining moments. What still haunts this character? What are his regrets? Deep down, what’s he really afraid of? The character letter provides a wealth of angst. Remember that you’re the God of your Story. If you include something, a hint of the character’s past, for instance, then it should be important to the Story. It must have some IMPACT on the plot or the character arc. The character should have to face and overcome that old shadow before the story is over, or else why mention it at all?
These defining moments help you define the character’s arc, providing the major stumbling block(s) from his past that made him who he is today (when the story opens) — and must now overcome before he can make the Leap of Faith (Emotional Toolbox).
3. The Emotional Toolbox, or the Hero’s Journey: The emotional toolbox highlights the character’s journey. Back and forth, the character battles need vs. want until finally, I force him to make a Leap of Faith. Hopefully you’ve noticed that the techniques above have already crossed over into this one. They all begin to blur and meet. That’s a good thing — everything should tie together and make sense. The greatest strength is tied to the mask, and the trouble traits, which lead to the greatest weakness.
Next up, we’ll take a closer look at the hero’s journey. The story needs STRUCTURE — a framework that defines the story layout and gives the rest of the details something to hang onto.
(Click the image to visit PBW for more great workshops!)
So you know you want to avoid Plot Interrupted and Tab A/Slot B mechanics, but how do you get “down and dirty” into the emotions of a really deep sex scene?
Here are a few different approaches that may help. Different stories/characters require different techniques, so don’t be afraid to experiment! Some of these begin to overlap and cross over — because each one is trying to get to the CORE of what your character needs — and fears.
Or, everything I learned about characterization, I learned from Paperback Writer. Okay, not quite everything, but I often come back to Lynn’s three basic character questions:
So ask these questions with intimacy in mind. This is a really good technique for pushing boundaries and hitting hot buttons with readers, and definitely how I approached Conn and Rae in Dear Sir, I’m Yours. What’s the worst thing I could do to a college professor? Make him fall in love with a student. Not only would any kind of relationship with a student be forbidden, but they’re also leaning toward a politically incorrect BDSM relationship, a double whammy.
Some key questions that might get the juices flowing: when it comes to intimacy,
Sometimes you can use sex to show a significant change to a character’s perception, their physical shape (paranormal), or their world view. In Beautiful Death, Isabella is physically changed by a viral mutation and must depend on Hades for survival. In my friend, Jenna Reynolds‘ novella The Emissary, Shina is able to use sex to change the Kjartan alien’s perception of not just her but her entire world.
Questions to ask your character: how can sex/intimacy change
This kind of approach is great when you have two polar opposites, like different cultures or enemies.
For a romance, two questions I always ask myself are:
Now change that up and think of it from an intimacy/sexual angle.
There are all sorts of ways to build opposing needs through intimacy. Maybe one character needs/wants kink and the other fears it — or perhaps there is a particular act that one party avoids or fears. Maybe one is very conservative and the other character has been promiscuous in the past.
Even better, deepen this fear to something buried in the characters’ past (see the Haunted Past). Our “core beliefs” about who we are were formed when we were children. Deep down, we all fear that we’re unlovable for some dread reason.
Sex can be dangerous for many reasons. Ask your character:
While we don’t need info dumps of backstory, it’s important to have a richly defined past for your characters. What are the key events that happened outside the story that shaped who your characters are today? Specifically, think about their sexual encounters.
My friend Jenna already did a fantastic post on writing sex scenes that matter using the hero’s journey. We both highly recommend the Emotional Toolbox — I use it for every single story. When all else fails and I can’t get the pieces of character and plot to come together, I can always turn back to my simple drawing of the mask, want, and need to come up with the answer. Some questions that might help you identify the character’s mask — and ultimately rip it away:
Referring back to Jenna’s story, The Emissary has some lovely flavors of the Japanese geisha mixed into a futuristic science fiction world. Shina is in training to become a courtesan, but she never expects an alien to pay her virgin price. When she meets the Emissary, he deigns to even give his name. He’s cold and harsh, but Shina has been trained to be gracious and willing to provide any pleasure her partner requests.
The Emissary ridicules her society and her. She is too soft. She would never survive on his planet. She is small, like a little willow, and that’s what he begins to call her as they begin the “pillowing.” However, Shina tells him a story of how the mighty oak tree fared when it refused to bend before the vicious wind. The willow swayed in the wind and survived, while the oak suffered defeat.
Indeed, this story is played out through their sex scenes. She is the willow, bending to his demands. No matter how fiercely he blows, she gives, gladly, and finds pleasure in his touch. Her softness and the delicious way she sways in his wind is exactly what he finds so intriguing, and in the end, the might oak falls.
Through sex, Shina changes the Emissary’s complete world view, forcing him to admit that she is the emissary. She has brought their cultures together.
Share them in comments (or simply throw your name in the hat) to be entered to win a $30 gift certificate to any online bookstore retailer and winner’s choice of any book from my backlist.
As Lynn always says, anyone on the planet can enter, even if you’ve won something from me before. I’ll accept comment entries through midnight CST Sunday night, July 19th, on this post, or you can e-mail me ONCE (joely AT joelysueburkhart DOT com). One of the monsters (my kids) will draw names on Monday and I’ll post all winners then.
(Click the image to visit PBW for more great workshops!)
I really hate “workshops” that sound like “buy me! buy me!” with examples solely from the author’s own work, so I promise to pull in several other authors’ examples for illustration. However, to start the discussion, I want to refer back to an interview I did with Kelly Jensen of SF Crow’s Nest after she reviewed Beautiful Death:
SFC: How did you decide to handle the transformation from human to monster as the most sexually intense part of the novel?
JSB: I think a good sex scene in a novel should be both intense and transformative. Isabella and Hades trusting each other enough to be intimate was just as significant as her metamorphosis into a “monster.” On the flip side of the coin, she was already a monster, though, and Hades wasn’t the monster she thought him to be, neither. Her world viewpoint had to transform, too, and Hades made it possible for her to survive the final mutation as well as see the truth about New Olympia.
SFC: Do you see sex scenes as necessary to sell a book?
JSB: Not at all, although I won’t deny that I love writing an intense, physical relationship. A good sex scene reveals characters like nothing else. As a reader, I want the sexual relationship of the characters to progress along an arc as the story unfolds. The scenes are important and significant, not gratuitous. As a writer, I use sex to add another layer of conflict and complication. I always love watching the afterglow fade away to a sudden realisation that now things are so much worse than before.
Until this interview, I’d never really thought about my writing process for sex scenes. I had a gut feeling about when I’d include a sex scene — just like I had a gut feel for when to kill a character. I never stopped to question why I felt that way. But Kelly really got me to thinking about why I include sex scenes, and it all comes back to transformation.
Any writer who has studied much of the craft at all knows that if a scene doesn’t move the story forward, it should be cut. But have you really thought about what that means for a sex scene?
I’m not going to get into whether or not your story should or should not close the door — the level of intimacy you write is totally up to you. This also isn’t a workshop on how to write hot sex for the sole purpose of arousal–although there’s definitely a market for hot books! I’m also not claiming that these two are mutally exclusive. In fact, I bet if you write a sex scene to deepen characterization, really dig into the whys and emotions, then the scene will also get hotter. Let’s see if I can convince you.
Transformation implies change. A good story begins with a protagonist who changes throughout the story. There’s not just an external goal, but internal goal/need as well that may be even more frightening an undertaking to achieve. The success of the external goal should hinge on whether or not the protagonist can heal whatever internal conflict she’s been battling throughout the story. If you’ve read here long, you’ve already heard how much I love the Emotional Toolbox. My friend Jenna is going to talk more specifically about how she uses the hero’s journey to write sex, so I’ll point you to her site.
So let’s assume that you as a writer have decided to include a sex scene in your story. You feel like it’s the best fit for you, and your writing instinct tells you this is the right spot for your characters to get intimate. They’re nekkid, they’re going at it, but it feels…stilted. It’s boring. Tab A/Slot B mechanical. What went wrong?
How many times have you heard a reader say, “Oh, I skip the sex scenes because they’re [boring, repetitive, mechanical, waste of words].” Or have you read a high-tension romantic suspense, only to roll your eyes when the hero and heroine call time out to roll around in the sheets with the villain waiting outside?
Two common problems with boring or useless sex scenes are:
If you took a survey of adults in our current age, I think we could all list at least a handful of slang words for both male and female genitals. All day, everywhere, we’re bombarded with sexual elements. If you get two (or more) consentual adults together, chances are pretty good they all know the mechanics of sex.
Books and attention spans are getting shorter every day. Why waste several thousand words on the physical aspect of sex that we all have read or seen a hundred times or more?
On the other hand, what makes a reader linger over those scenes, even if she’s read hundreds of romance books this year alone? It’s the emotionalconflicts and bonds that form during sexual intimacy. Sex makes us vulnerable. Boundaries should be falling left and right; masks should be removed; hearts and bodies laid open bare. That’s what makes a sex scene emotional — and transformative.
If the heroine is feeling deep emotion, I guarantee she’s feeling transformation. Both characters are opening themselves up for risk, both physical and emotional. Think about animals in the wild: mating can be a dangerous undertaking, even if you don’t think about how badly your heart will feel when its broken.
Instead of pushing the envelope with more and more bizarre and extreme sexual behavoir, why not dig a little deeper into your characters’ psyche?
Nothing makes me roll my eyes quicker than when the external plot takes a backseat for the required “sex scene” moment. The reader shouldn’t feel like a referee is standing over in the corner blowing a whistle so the heroine can go take a break, if you know what I mean.
However, when the external plot is truly worsened by the developing attachment of the heroine and hero, and when they have legitimate reasons not to be together, the combination of sex and conflict can be so tightly coupled that no reader would ever dream a skipping a scene. Any scene that is “skipped” — even a sex scene — should mean that the reader MISSED something. If nothing important happens, if some change doesn’t happen, then why is that scene still in the story?
Don’t call time out for the plot — but make things even worse for the protagonist. Heap on emotional guilt, smear with a little betrayal, top with a new fear. The external plot will taste all the better. *winks*
In tomorrow’s post, I’ll list some basic questions and techniques that you may find helpful in digging deeper to reveal characters through sex.
This book seems like the pretty typical girl makes it big story, coming home to small town and dealing with old flame. However, this book made me laugh and cry and delay dinner long enough so I could finish the book. Why was it so compelling?
Everything was tightly coupled together, beginning with the hero’s backstory. Ben has a measurable, concrete reason to hate gossip. Now, as the chief of police of a small town, he has an important place in society. He can’t tolerate gossip or scandal about him again without damaging his career. So he has INTERNAL conflict and EXTERNAL conflict regarding scandal.
In walks Molly Jennings, his best friend’s kid sister, and his careful, staid existence is thrown out the window. She, too, has a very key backstory moment that has driven her secret career, starring Ben, even though he has no idea. No one in town knows what she does for a living. It’s hilarious watching Ben think about all the scandalous possibilities: hooker, sex phone operator, etc. As a cop, he even investigates her. He can’t let himself get involved with someone who might be doing something shady, no matter how sexy she is.
Molly has very measurable and concrete reasons NOT to tell Ben her secret, too. Again, it’s tied to her backstory, and the whole thing just builds and tangles until you think there’s absolutely no hope they can work things out. Then it gets worse, and the very thing Ben fears the most rears its ugly head: scandal, and he’s at the heart of it. Or rather, the book of it. *laughs*
Don’t get me wrong — there are several sexual scenes, many of which are hilarious. (I laughed out loud when Molly thought her little blue friend might have electrocuted her.) But each one very carefully pulls back a layer of character. We peek under Molly’s fun, confident mask as an erotic writer, unafraid to ask for exactly what she wants, only to find that she’s afraid she’ll never live up to her parents’ expectations. Every sex scene revolves around these fears and secrets, and only when both heroine and hero face their deep fears that they’ll never be good enough (Molly) or that gossip might destroy him forever (Ben), can they heal themselves…and each other.
Share them in comments (or simply throw your name in the hat) to be entered to win Victoria Dahl’sTalk Me Down and Start Me Up (unsigned), and winner’s choice of any book from my backlist.
As Lynnalways says, anyone on the planet can enter, even if you’ve won something from me before. I’ll accept comment entries through midnight CST Friday night, July 17th, on this post, or you can e-mail me ONCE (joely AT joelysueburkhart DOT com). One of the monsters (my kids) will draw names on Sat. and I’ll post all winners then.
So yesterday, I worked every free moment I had on the “final exam” of the Letters prequel. It was exhausting. I wrestled a paragraph and rested. I wrote in the morning before work, over lunch, after work before dinner, and finally, stumbled over the finish line.
After I tweeted about how exhausted I felt, May and Soleil kindly offered to read, and while I felt like I’d been rolling around in broken glass to finish it, I took them up on that offer. The last thing I want to do is post something that’s not good, really good.
And darn it, May thought it had some problems. Oh, it was written pretty well, I think, certainly overwritten–it needed to be trimmed and tightened–but there was a really big problem lurking in those pages. Although it was pretty hot, it was too clean. Too tidy. Or in other words, it wasn’t rough enough. Maybe that’s why I was so exhausted–I was fighting the story.
See, I’ve been working on a tricky balance in this Prequel. It has to be good. It has to be something people will read and want to continue reading Dear Sir, I’m Yours when it releases. I mean, that’s the whole point, really, to hook people into buying it who may be on the fence. However, the reality is that the upcoming final exam has to be so bad that it sends Rae running for five years.
Five years!
So you see my dilemma. If my hero comes off as an asshole in the freebie prequel, who’s going to buy the book?
Conn will be the first to admit that he can be an insufferable bastard on occasion. This is one of those occasions. Yet I realized that in trying to keep him from coming off as a total bastard, I’d made him a different kind of bastard all together. I pulled his punches. Hell, I even pulled Rae’s punches. I cleaned them up and dressed them in their Sunday best and sat them all prim and proper to eat vanilla ice cream with his big desk between them, and they are both so pissed at me that Conn is contemplating throwing his biggest anthology at my head and Rae has the shotgun out that she reserves for her ex-husband.
Self-editing at its worst.
I was afraid of what people would think. I was afraid of the very characters that I’d created. I was afraid to crack open that door to their darkest moment and let all that ugliness spill out. I did the same thing with Gregar when he finally approached his heart’s desire. I took away his ivory rahke and told him to go forth and be good, and he tried, bless his heart. But it wasn’t him.
I created a dark, larger than life character, and then in his spotlight in the darkest hour, I flinched. I took away Dr. Connagher’s mask but slapped another one in its place. I didn’t let the real Conn–who Rae loves and fears–show through.
So no snippet today and maybe tomorrow. I need to rework what I have. I need to let Rae begin with the power she thinks she has, and then bring her to the realization that she has none whatsoever. And then I need to let Conn get that pretty white skirt that she wore to tempt him just a little bit dirty.
Out of the cast of a hundred of so characters in the Shanhasson trilogy, I get the most comments about Gregar, the Shadowed Blood. I even wrote a prequel short story from his point of view (available here as a free read), and I often joked about The Road to Shanhasson being “Gregar’s Book.” He’s my Muse; when I think of the “still silent voice” that helps me write, it’s his voice I hear. Even when I’m writing something different, he touches my writing.
Let’s just say, he’s been a very, very bad influence on me, in a very good way.
What’s funny is that I created him and the rest of the Shanhasson cast long before I knew anything about “proper” character development. Which is maybe why he’s so very, very wicked.
So with small excerpts from The Shadowed Blood (pdf), The Rose of Shanhasson, and The Road to Shanhasson as appropriate for illustration:
(See explanation of proper at the bottom of this post.)
10. He has a terrible, ribald sense of humor.
“Will you let me claim you here and now?” Rhaekhar asked.
From the heated thickness in his voice, she dreaded asking for an explanation. “Claim?”
“Gregar, what is the proper word?”
“Marry, wed, consummate, pleasure, mate, copulate, tup,” the dark-haired warrior replied with a wicked smile of delight.
9. Gregar is famous on the Plains for “arse competitions.”
“Since you’re new to the Plains, you might not know that Gregar is actually very famous.” Watching the red-haired young man, she narrowed her gaze, wary of his wide-eyed innocence. “You could always ask them for an arse competition.”
She spluttered. “What?”
Dharman groaned. “That isn’t appropriate for Khul’lanna’s claiming.”
“Why not?” Sal winked at her and whispered conspiratorially. “You must like their arses rather well.”
Face hot, she started walking toward the center of Camp. Dharman still held her upper arm, walking slightly behind her and close enough he would trip over her feet if he wasn’t careful.
The lad with the wretched sense of humor walked alongside her. “Don’t you?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“At the Kae’Khul, he made quite an impression on everyone. Alea still remarks about it sometimes.”
“Only when you’re up to mischief yourself,” Dharman retorted. “Leave Khul’lanna alone, Sal. She obviously doesn’t want to talk about arses, Gregar’s, Khul’s, or yours for that matter.”
“But Alea often mutters that I could give Gregar a hard gallop for his rahke. When I’m older, of course.”
A surge of what Shannari could only call jealousy burned in her stomach at the thought of the tall sun-kissed woman getting an eyeful of Gregar’s ass, delightful or not as it might be. Through his bond, she felt only a smug silence, which actually made her madder. “Tell me about the Kae’Khul. Is that when Rhaekhar became Khul?”
“Oh, aye, it was a glorious event,” Sal replied. “Gregar and Varne were at it as usual …”
“Wait. I thought they were friends, like you and Dharman.”
“Nay, Khul’lanna,” Dharman said. “Friends, true, but there has always been an edge between them. They aren’t friends like Sal and I. We have an understanding.”
“An understanding?”
“What’s mine is his; what’s his is mine. I lead; he follows. There are no questions or doubts between us.”
“Unless it comes to mischief.” Sal leaned in close to whisper. “Then I lead Dharman where he’d hesitate to go.”
“Aye, and have led me into more trouble than I care to admit.” Although grumbling, Dharman smiled at his friend. “I shall lead you to yet greater trouble soon enough.”
“I cannot wait,” Sal breathed, his face softening with something rather like reverence.
“Me, either, my friend. Me either.”
They both looked at her with expectation, hope, and a sort of worshipful awe that embarrassed her. If they knew even half of the darkness that she carried inside … The Lady’s Lake within her resonated with a deep humming echo of power. Uneasy, she changed the subject. “So did Khul compete in this arse competition at the Kae’Khul?”
“Nay, the competition was between Gregar and Varne. It started as a friendly bet, but I believe they came close to formal challenge. I always thought they disagreed over which would lead as nearest Blood to Khul, but now …” Dharman glanced at her, his gaze considering. “Whatever the disagreement, Gregar lightened the argument with a joke, dared Varne to an arse competition—”
“Which he won, of course,” Sal added helpfully.
“Aye, and gained legendary status as a result. I’ve heard he’s even been known to flip up his memsha at kae’don to infuriate his opponents.”
She could absolutely picture it: the dark-haired Blood, laughing and winking as he flipped up the short cloth about his hips. He’d probably shout a few obscenities, too, all to better rile his opponent.
:Kiss my arse works rather well.:
8. He used to be a Death Rider, an assassin dedicated to the Great Wind Stallion.
She pointed her sword at Gregar. “Back off.”
The Blood took a step closer, pressing the sword tip into his body. Her jaw tightened with determination and she pushed a little harder, puncturing his chest. Smiling with anticipation, Gregar pushed back. A little closer, a little more steel pressing into his body.
She shifted her grip on the hilt, fully prepared to skewer him. A coldness settled on her features that told Rhaekhar she’d killed before and often. Very impressive. He liked a hint of danger in a woman.
Evidently, so did Gregar. “Go ahead,” he taunted, his low voice echoing with amusement and his trademark wickedness. Shannari shivered and her eyes widened. “Run me through. I shall greatly enjoy it.”
Her gaze flickered to the smaller wound she dealt to Rhaekhar’s neck earlier. “Are you all crazy?”
“Gregar is… special. He used to be a Death Rider.” At the blank look on her face, Rhaekhar added, “An assassin. Death Riders delight in sacrificing blood to the Great Wind Stallion. Blood sacrifice is a very great honor among us.”
She jerked her sword away. Gregar wiped his hand across his chest and licked the blood from his fingers. “Would you like a taste?”
7. As a Death Rider, he can wrap himself in Shadows and disappear, lying in wait until his mark comes close enough to sacrifice.
She stared at the feathered arrow sticking out of her shoulder. How could she have forgotten the archer? She fell to her knees and used the tall grass to shield herself, but it might not be enough.
“Khul’lanna!” Gregar roared with fury that another had hurt her. Only the Shadowed Blood was allowed that privilege. Shadow swallowed him, engulfing him whole, and Death came like a killing frost up the hill toward her.
6. He’s arguably one of the best rahke fighters on the Plains and is never without his ivory knife that he earned as a Death Rider. Just don’t ask what the “ivory” hilt is made out of if you don’t really want to know.
“This one is Gregar, my shadowed Blood who used to be a Death Rider.”
So cold. She opened her mouth to ask where he was, her teeth chattering harder. A blade touched her neck and she froze. Blessed Lady, the Blood was close enough to hold a knife to her throat while she sat here, oblivious until he touched her with steel. As always when threatened from her blind spot, terror screamed through her body. Muscles bunched, her fingers locking on the hilt, her heart thundering in her ribcage. Her fear only intensified the sense of bone-chilling cold rolling off the Blood.
Varne removed his hand from hers and stood at Rhaekhar’s side protectively. Automatically, she started to draw the sword. Helpless with a knife at her throat, she couldn’t just sit here and—
The wickedly sharp blade lifted her chin higher and the sudden press of bare flesh against her back scalded her. The Blood whispered against her ear. “Shall I draw a bit more of your sweet blood for Khul?”
#
Gregar hovered against her back, barely visible in thick, black shadows. As a Death Rider, he could wrap the cold Shadow of Death about himself and disappear. He could slit Shannari’s throat before she even knew he was there, and the knowledge shook her to the core. Silently, Rhaekhar waited for her to look to him for assistance.
The Blood whispered something to her too low for him to hear. Her jaw clenched and she stiffened, her fingers tight on the sword’s hilt. Shadows draped across her shoulders, darkening her face.
Rhaekhar felt a sudden and irrational urge to drag her away from the Blood. In his heart he knew the Blood would never hurt her, but he couldn’t ease the trepidation. The shadows wanted to suck her down and drown her in a sea of blood and agony.
Gregar raised his head, his dark eyes glittering like black ice in the shadows. At his familiar smirk, Rhaekhar loosened the tension straining his shoulders.
“Or perhaps I shall draw Khul’s blood for you.”
Her gaze leaped to Rhaekhar’s face, her eyes wide with fear and reluctant desire. The surge of hunger through their na’lanna bond at the thought of tasting his blood very nearly sent him plunging over the cliff into raging, uncontrollable lust. Why did she fear his disgust when he would like nothing better than to give his blood to her?
“Leave us,” he ordered, his voice thick and heavy to his own ears.
Gregar drew his rahke up her neck, trailing the blade across her cheek in an odd, dangerous caress, but he stood and backed away.
5. Before Gregar became Blood, he very nearly assassinated the main hero of the Shanhasson trilogy.
Rhaekhar dropped his voice to a fervent whisper. “The Rose will be mine, a love like no other.”
Those words rocked Gregar to his heels and the Shadowed Call thundered louder.
Kill him, kill him, KILL HIM!
This warrior would be Khul, any Death Rider’s greatest mark. Nay, the woman, his woman, would be Khul’lanna, his greatest mark, his most secret heart’s desire, and Rhaekhar would take her as his own.
Gregar held himself very still, but inside, his heart raged, his stomach rebelled, and his very blood boiled in his veins in denial. The ivory rahke came into his hand eagerly, hungry for this warrior’s blood.
4. He knows he’s going to die, and soon. Surely that makes him poor romance hero material, right?
“While I live, no one will touch you with steel or blade again. As long as you let me stay close, at your back, like this.”
“I can’t love again.”
“You already do.”
Gregar spoke so matter-of-factly, so calmly, while she wanted to hack and slash all about her with a sword. “Even if I do, I can’t stay. I know my destiny, Gregar. I must return to the Green Lands.”
“Eventually.” He rubbed his cheek against hers and then released her. “I know my destiny, too, and Khul’s. Your priest is not the only one who has premonitions. I’ve seen the day of my death. I’ve seen the years of happiness it will buy you with Khul. And it’s worth the sacrifice.”
3. He loves Shannari, but she’s also his greatest mark as a Death Rider. e.g. the temptation to kill her rides him hard.
Midnight eyes pooled with tears, she lay beneath him, trembling as his life’s blood poured out on her skin. She had not come easily to his embrace. She never did. Fighting for her life, she’d enjoyed wounding him as much as he’d relished her pain.
She fed his darkness like no other.
“I love you.”
“Aye,” he whispered, smoothing his thumb over the pulse thumping frantically in her throat. “My heart is yours, na’lanna.”
My beloved.
And he buried the ivory rahke in her heart.
2. Pain and blood only turn him on.
Shannari took a long, shuddering breath. Her eyes flew open. And with a low, vicious cry, she buried the rahke in Gregar’s chest.
The dark-haired Blood with the wicked smile fell forward slowly, the knife in his chest still in her hand. Horrified, Shannari tried to pull back, but his hands gripped hers in a vise, pressing the blade deeper.
He fell on her, staring into her eyes. No surprise, no reprisals, no pain. His gaze was heavy lidded, smoldering with desire, pleasure, raw hunger, death. Blood gushed from the wound, searing her skin.
“Thank you,” Gregar whispered, his voice thick. “You honor me.”
1. He has no limits.
Her voice flat and cold, she admitted the atrocity of her Dream. “I let you hurt me, and I enjoyed it. I enjoyed hurting Khul by letting you hurt me. And then I killed you.”
“Shadow lies to you again, Shannari.” Gregar unsheathed the ivory rahke and laid it on the tent floor before him. “I’m tainted with Shadow, this we all know. However, my heart’s desire is not to die in your embrace.” He forced the words from his throat, and ice fisted Rhaekhar’s heart with each word. “My most secret heart’s desire is for you to die in my embrace. It’s what I dreamed for years before I became Blood. I killed you a thousand times before I ever knew your name.”
“You would enjoy hurting me,” she whispered, a question not an accusation. “You would enjoy killing me.”
“I have no limits,” Gregar replied, his voice cracking with strain. “I warned you, and I warned Khul. That’s why I refuse to participate in your claiming and why I didn’t push for you to admit your love for me. Aye, I would hurt you and enjoy it. I would kill you and enjoy it, even while I raged at myself for ending your life. I love you too much to risk you.”
Despite knowing he’ll die, that he will kill her if given half a chance, Shannari still loves him. And yeah, so do I.
And here’s the explanation about why Gregar always puts special emphasis on proper.
“Are you up for a kae’rahke this night, Gregar?”
The two warriors rode ahead, leaving Shannari staring after them with dread pounding in her veins. A kae’rahke? Challenge? Sometimes they fought to the death.
“Aye, I’m up for many things, Khul.”
Rhaekhar laughed, a dark masculine sound of arrogance that made her grind her teeth together. “I bet you are. Good. I’ll declare you co-mate before the claiming. What do you want for terms?”
Groaning, Shannari tried to think of a way to distract them. Short of ripping her armor and clothes off, she didn’t think much would distract them from their goal of blood.
Gregar winked at her. “I would certainly enjoy another kiss. This time, I want a proper kiss.”
“Oh, aye,” Rhaekhar replied, giving her a smoldering look over his shoulder. “Do you want her tongue in your mouth, or yours in hers?”
“Preferably both.”
I was sooo tired last night, I could barely keep my eyes open. I finished yesterday’s Dark & Early session quite short — well under 1K — and so I tried to stay up until I got the normal NaNoWriMo daily goal (1667) but I just couldn’t make it. I did, however, finish two more bookmarks. This time, I tried Joy’s pattern. It’s quite a bit more complicated than the one I found online, and not as fast to make, but oh, they are so pretty! I laced one with two colors of ribbon and it looks quite nice. I’ll post a picture later.
Because I was so exhausted last night, I wasn’t sure how well I’d do this morning, if I even managed to get up. I almost stayed in bed, but finally dragged myself up shortly after 5 AM. The morning seemed endless. It’s dark outside still (stormy) and it’s been a really long week, but I finished up last night’s section, started a new one, and finished it (it was one of those blessedly short < 1K sections). So excellent progress this morning, even though the word count isn’t huge.
Yesterday: 1400
Today: 1295
Total: 17760
Snippet: Mrs. Lane is an interesting character; unfortunately, I didn’t “know” her before starting this story, so I’m sure I will need some serious revisions later. I want her to be as remarkable as Miss Belle, providing some comic relief but also a larger than life and highly interesting, well motivated character. This is a start, but I’m sure she’ll need much more work to get her just right. First draft, revisions coming.
Mrs. Lane stood in the doorway to the kitchen, her chin jutted out, feet braced wide, gripping a wooden spoon in her hand as fiercely as any knight wielding a mace. “The carriage house is ready, my lady.” Bristling with indignation, she shot a glare at Mr. Nevarre that would have sent His Majesty stammering and scurrying away. “I shall be on guard, sir.”
Mr. Nevarre bowed lower to Mrs. Lane than he’d done to the lady of the castle, again, never lowering his eyes from her challenge. “Then I shall sleep well indeed, safe in the knowledge that Castle Nocturna will withstand any threat.” He straightened and turned his attention to Lilias. His mouth tightened, his eyes dark with speculation. “If the lady still wishes to extend the invitation?”
Weighing her alternatives, Lilias concentrated all her senses on the man. Could she trust him?
At first glance, he appeared as any other gentleman: his clothing fine but not fashionable, his manners impeccable, obviously well educated and traveled. However, at closer glance, one noted that his skin had been darkened considerably by long years in the desert sun. Instead of the shorter fashionable curls most gentlemen had adopted, his hair was long and tied at his neck in a queue. The shoulders and arms of his coat strained, promising incredible strength that a gentleman of leisure could not claim.
And his eyes, brown with flecks of gold, but not soft or warm in any way, rather as cold as the cobra focused on its victim. Every time she studied him, she was reminded of some kind of fanged serpent. How could she possibly allow this danger to remain in Nocturna, near her sister and innocent students?
On the other hand, if this man had tried to kill her last night, then it might behoove her to keep him close–where she could defend herself at the first sign of danger. To do so, though, she would need to use her magic and allow the castle’s nexus to fill her. She suddenly felt as though the massive stone walls of the castle had tumbled down to stack upon her shoulders.
Perhaps she wasn’t suffering the beginning stages of mage madness; perhaps she could live long enough to ensure Violet’s dream of a Season and a happy marriage to some young gentleman. And perhaps this deadly man meant her no harm, neither.
Releasing a little sigh of resignation, she inclined her head. “Allow me to direct you to the carriage house, Mr. Nevarre.”
She walked with him through the heavy oaken door opposite the main entrance, following the pebbled path that meandered alongside the Great Hall and then across the courtyard.
“When I was a girl, I used to carry a hoe,” Mrs. Lane called after them. “Snakes love to creep into the henhouse and devour the eggs and sweet little baby chicks. Mark my words, a venomous viper dies as quickly as a garden snake once its head is chopped off.”
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As promised, I’m giving away the complete Demonica Series by Larissa Ione, including Pleasure Unbound, Desire Unchained, and Passion Unleashed.
Desire Unchained was my reward book for finishing Revision Xibalba, and boy, do I feel rewarded! The book was so good that I made the monsters sit in the van and wait at the Dixie Stampede (while we were on Spring Break vacation) until I finished the last 10 pages!!
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