NaNoWriMo: Days 17, 18

I can’t claim many words at all for today, but I have a very good reason.  Last night on Twitter, I saw a recommendation from Smart Bitches that they’d love to see downloadable excerpts on author sites.  Made total sense — after all, I’ve been a reading junkie now that I have my iPhone.  So after work tonight, I set out to create pdf, rtf, and epub downloadable excerpts for all my novellas and novels.  They’re centrally located here on a single page, or you can retrieve the files from each book’s page as well.

I’ve got to admit, switching pdf to epub via Calibre and Stanza was a royal pain in the backside.  I can’t imagine what a headache it is for Deena to do these (and many more!) each and every release!  However, I think this is a huge step in the right direction.  If there’s a format you wished I had available, please let me know and I’ll figure out how to get it!

Back to NaNoWriMo, I had over 2K last night, but only a couple hundred tonight.  An unplanned sex scene reared its ugly head, earlier than I expected.  Is this the big show down moment?  Is she finally going to tell him to suck it up or leave her the hell alone?  Maybe.  I need to see how the next few sections play out.  I’ve still got a few external plot things to deliver (the leak/spy) so I don’t know if the timing is right or not.

But at least I had fun.  🙂

NaNoWriMo total:  32,582

Snippet:  Remember that Shiloh’s stage name for the show is “Gift.”  She did poorly on the “service” challenge and is being punished by another Master, shortly after the last snippet I posted.  Remember, this is all staged for the show.  It’s not a real BDSM scene in action.  However, it’s the only place where Victor allows himself to really play Master, which is why Shiloh gets herself into so much trouble.

“Her safeword,” Victor said in a voice that made cold chills race down her spine.  “Is Christmas.  I expect you to use it if you need to, Gift.  That’s an order.”

She kept her head down for him, giving him the respect even though he wasn’t participating in the scene.  “Yes, Master.”

“Christmas,” Patrick drawled out.  “Very well.  Count them out, Gift, so I’m not forced to start over at the beginning.”

The long leather tail snaked on the floor, rasping and promising agony.  He gave a trial snap that made her flinch, but the whip didn’t touch her.  Not yet.

He laughed softly.  “Ready, my dear?”

“Yes, sir.”

She heard the sharp crack of the lash before she felt the cut of his blow on her left shoulder.  Her breath rushed out and she twisted her wrists in the bonds, but she didn’t cry out.  Damn, that hurt.  He must have managed to hit one of Victor’s bruises.  “One.”

If it’d been Victor delivering punishment in a formal scene, she would have thanked him for it, but not Patrick.  Not unless her Master ordered it.

Panting, she opened her mind to the pain.  She didn’t fight it or tense her muscles.  In fact, she relaxed everything.  Her knees sagged, but the bonds kept her upright.  She fought her eyes back open and sought Victor.

Don’t you understand I’m doing this for you?  This is nothing compared to what I want–need–you to do.

He gave a slight nod of his head but his face remained stiff and remote.  An order, or encouragement?  She couldn’t tell.  His face was too hard, his eyes too dark.

As a consummate showman, Patrick trailed the leather across the ground, drawing out both her tension and the viewers’.  When her breathing had steadied, he pulled his arm back and sent the whip whistling through the air again.  Pain bloomed on her opposite shoulder.

She sucked in her breath and clenched her jaws to keep from crying out.  She wouldn’t make a sound for him.  Screams and moans were rewards for the Master wielding the weapon, and she refused to reward anyone but Victor.

When she trusted her voice, she whispered, “Two.”

“I’m impressed, Gift.  I thought surely you would be whimpering by now.  Maybe you’ll endure ten strokes after all.”

Her back burned so fiercely she did want to whimper, but she looked at Victor–his hand clenched about his crop that was laid in his lap, his other hand wrapped around his wineglass so tightly she thought it might shatter–and she clamped her mouth shut.