NaNo Day 17

My goals for today:

• brainstorm some possible upcoming scenes, done
• get at least 2000 words
• color my hair   Ugh.  New color.  Not so hot.  Although the monsters think the pink (where my gray soaked up the most color) is cute.  *dies*
• exercise
• fixed a Mykal scene that was bugging me and expanded it, 755 words
• edited the next Mykal scene for continuity.
• Continue next Mykal scene (where I got stuck before).  Forgot to write down starting words for this section, but so far, I’ve cut instead of added anyway.  Continuity is better.  Red herrings stinking to the Three Hells.  I’ve managed to confuse myself!
• More work on above scene, another 492 words, but it’s not done.  Slow going.  The threads are very delicate, very fragile.  I have to lay them just right.  This is the beginning that brings Keldar to Shanhasson, a major plot intersection filled with (hopefully) suspicion as the reader tries to figure out WHO the antagonist is!  (I’m still trying to figure that out myself.)  I must be careful.  A POV character canNOT keep secrets, which is making this all quite fun indeed.  My intention is to give enough clues, combined with things seen from other POVs that shed the light on two possible bad guys.  One you really don’t want to be the bad guy, but you really think might be; the other would be really easy to make the bad guy, but isn’t that too easy?  See how complicated this is??
• prepared a new submission package of Letters.  Trying to get up the nerve to send it.  Sent it.  *dies*  Let the angst begin!

I didn’t head to Kaldi’s this morning, but decided to stay home and pamper myself with some fresh squeezed orange juice and hot tea.  I’m feeling a cold coming on, which is the last thing I need right now.  If I feel up to it this afternoon, I plan to exercise.  I’d planned to exercise faithfully this month, but I fell back into the deadly obsession of writing every spare minute I have.  This story consumes me, as I expected and feared.  Even Revision Xibalba has fallen by the wayside.  I really, really need that story revised by the end of the year, so I need to come up with a plan to achieve it.  Maybe after I hit 50K the burning urge will subside enough for me to handle both stories again at the same time.

Words:  1,803 2,558 3,050

NaNo Total:  42,302  43,057 43,549

Snippet:  this one’s rather inappropriate, but it’s so key to the upcoming drama with Mykal that I decided to post it anyway.  Shannari’s Council has suggested that she take a “proper” Green Land husband, and this is how she and her Blood reacted.  Thank the Lady that Rhaekhar and Gregar aren’t also present, else it would have been a bloodbath!

“There are, however, a few requirements these candidates must fulfill before I’d even begin to consider them as my king.”  She smiled wider and every man at the table blanched, even her father.  Deliberately, she settled more fully against Dharman, and his arms immediately came around her.  She knew he bristled with fury like an indignant herd stallion, and Sal still growled and bared his teeth like a caged tiger.  Jorah was silent, but he shone brighter, his golden hair and skin catching the light and reflecting it back until Benton, who sat nearest on the edge, winced and shielded his eyes.

“Any man who desires to sit at my right hand as my king must first come to my bed.”  Through the bond, she asked Sal to look at her.  He did so, immediately.  Slowly, she ran her fingers through his hair, lifting the heavy red pelt and letting it spill through her hand like silk.  Then she traced the bite mark on his neck.  Old and white it might be, but she knew Phillip remembered how the red-haired warrior had gained that scar years ago.  The King of Maston made a sound very much like a whimper and fled the room.

“This man must come to my bed and survive.”  She laughed softly, twisting her hand in Sal’s hair, giving him a jerk that pulled his head sharply to the side.  He moaned deep in his throat and melted against her, burying his face in her lap, perilously close to the junction of her thighs.  “This man must come through each of my Blood and meet with their approval.  And then, he must satisfy my First Blood’s challenge.”

“Challenge?”  King Challon asked, his voice shaky.

Dharman smiled so widely the other man recoiled.  “No man comes to na’lanna Qwen’s bed except through me.  Any man desiring to lay with her must challenge me for the honor of touching one hair on her head.”

Sal retorted, “And I,” followed by sharp ayes from each of her Blood.

Letting her eyes smolder, she rubbed the back of her head against Dharman’s stomach.  “Surely the servants have spread the tales, yes?  Two of my Blood sleep in my bed each and every night.  That will never change.”  Never mind that nothing had actually happened.  Yet.

King Challon spluttered, his face pale but splotched with red.  “Your Majesty, you can’t honestly expect your king to…that is…  What exactly do you mean?”

Sal lifted his head and licked his mouth thoroughly.  She felt a rush of heat flood her, even though she knew firsthand he hadn’t actually done anything.  “That means, exactly, that if she desires another man, he would have to fight each and every one of us first.  And then, if he still has blood remaining in his body enough to rise for her challenge, he would have to watch me and her First Blood nag her from sundown to sunrise, for we have first claim on her heart.  And then, if she still desires this man, he may crawl into her bed with her First Blood at her back and my rahke at his throat to ensure he does it right.”