Cupcakes (etc) – sneak peek – excerpt #1

UPDATE: Tamika has won the Cupcakes (etc) eARC from last week – YAY!!

The following is a (approx.) 450 word excerpt from my upcoming release, Cupcakes, Trinkets & Other Deadly Magic. Want to read more? Comment on this post to win a prerelease ebook (eARC) with your email address (e.g. name AT gmail DOT com). A new winner will be randomly selected every Wednesday throughout June. An excerpt and chance to win will be posted every Wednesday in June.

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The vampire stood at the door to my bakery.

             My heart skipped a beat. The sun hadn’t even fully set — damn daylight saving time —  and the vampire wasn’t even wearing sunglasses or a hat. He was old, then. Or maybe young? I never could remember whether their skin got more or less sensitive with age. But then, I’d never seen a vampire before, so there’d been no reason to remember my vampire lore lessons.

I was a magical dowser of sorts. I found and attracted magical things, so it wasn’t completely weird that a vampire wound up at my door — except the wards protecting my bakery should have safeguarded me from magical detection. If vampires were even capable of detecting magic on that level. Again I had no idea. I lowered my eyes to nestle a sixth cupcake into the box I was currently packing. Maybe if I ignored him, he’d go away. Because that always worked, right?

The bakery’s seating area was standing room only. The line of customers at the counter stretched almost to the door, as it always did in the hours after work and before dinner. Three of us always worked the counter for the final two hours of any week day. I moved along behind the display case parallel with my very human customer, dodged my employees Bryn and Todd, and added another cupcake to the box. Dark chocolate cake with strawberry butter icing — one of my favorites. I called it Love in a Cup. I made up cute names for all my cupcakes, and the occasional cookie I decided to bake. My bakery was aptly, though perhaps unimaginatively, named “Cake in a Cup”. I certainly never pretended to be a wordsmith or anything. Not all my customers were fully human, but even the magically lacking seemed to believe there was something extra special about my baking. A magical ingredient. There wasn’t.

I glanced up to check on the vampire. He was still on the sidewalk but had moved farther along the window to peer through the paned-glass. He seemed to be watching a little blond girl, who was maybe four and dressed in the prettiest pink ballerina outfit. The child had climbed off her stool and was straining her cake-crusted chubby fingers to reach for one of the trinkets hanging in the storefront window.

I placed an eighth cupcake in the box — a peanut butter-iced fudge cake I called Bliss in a Cup — without taking my attention off the vampire. He narrowed his ice-blue eyes at the child. With his short-cropped, almost-white hair, broad forehead, and lanky frame, all he needed was an uber chic ski jacket to look even more Scandinavian. He was probably sexy — in that angular, chiseled way — to anyone who didn’t know his love bites were deadly. I bristled, and reassuringly brushed my fingers over the invisible knife I wore underneath my apron. No one was going to be snacking on any children in my bakery.

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Comment below to win an exclusive prerelease copy of Cupcakes, Trinkets & Other Deadly Magic!! New winner every Wednesday in June!!

Love Lies Bleeding Free for kindle

Okay! For the very last time Love Lies Bleeding will be free for kindle from (today) May 30th to June 3rd. I will then make it available on all the other ebook platforms.

Bonus: LLB now contains an exclusive excerpt of the soon to be released, Cupcakes, Trinkets and Other Deadly Magic.

LLB with cupcakes excerptAmazon.com: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B009EBQFPU

Amazon.ca: http://www.amazon.ca/dp/B009EBQFPU

Amazon uk: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B009EBQFPU

Germany: https://www.amazon.de/dp/B009EBQFPU

France: https://www.amazon.fr/dp/B009EBQFPU

Spain: https://www.amazon.es/dp/B009EBQFPU

Italy: https://www.amazon.it/dp/B009EBQFPU

Tag: Love conquers all…even death

Synopsis:  Pamela just wants to reunite in the afterlife with her dead fiancé, Grady. Problem is, Grady was a secret agent, and his coded emails have infuriated both his employers and his enemies. They need Pamela alive. So, instead of her planned suicide, she is kidnapped by black ops agents, tortured by mobster warlords, hunted by a psychotic killer, and chased by zombies … all necessary evils in order to ultimately walk into the sunset with her true love.

WARNING: Love Lies Bleeding is a darkly comedic, bloody romance about love conquering all, even death. This is NOT a young adult novel. It contains graphic violence, nasty language, and more than a little bit of flesh eating. There are no soft kisses, soulful stares, or moonlit rainstorms.

Quotes:

“Denial was Erwin’s friend, and favorite vacation spot.” – Chapter 4, Love Lies Bleeding

“I can’t figure out what we are playing at, good cop, bad cop, concerned nutritionists …” – Phil, Chapter 5, Love Lies Bleeding

“Don’t worry dear. Be a good girl and you never have to find out what’s in the crate.” – Mr. Doyle, Love Lies Bleeding

“I’m just looking to match this empty shell to my departed soul.” – Pamela, Love Lies Bleeding

“I need help. Or at least directions. I’m being chased by a psycho . . . killer, though given the day I’ve been having I could be wrong about his intentions.” – Pamela, Love Lies Bleeding

 

The role of screenplay structure in a 1st draft novel [repost]

I don’t usually talk much about the actual craft of writing here … I just like to write my stories and hope you all like them, but I did write the post below, on request, when I was first marketing my novel, After The Virus, in 2011. Now, I am reposting it here by (another) request.

So, any writers wondering how I transitioned from screenplays to novels and what I retained along the way, hopefully you find something interesting below.

Any readers bored by such things, I’ll have something new for you to read VERY soon!!

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*REPOSTED from June 2011 from a Guest Blog Post*

 The role of structure in a 1st draft novel by Meghan Ciana Doidge

Transitioning from writing screenplays into writing novels has been an exciting and daunting task. Exciting, because, after writing screenplays for over 10 years, I fell into writing my first novel, After The Virus, and the writing just flowed. Daunting because now I have to follow up and recapture the magic I found while writing After The Virus.

When I write a screenplay I rely heavily on structure to craft the 1st draft, and I mostly adhere to the Syd Field school. I don’t even write a single word, other than jotting down scene ideas or bits of dialogue when they come to me, until I have the entire screenplay plotted out. But, I didn’t craft my novel, After The Virus, in this same fashion, though it is quite structured (as that is just in my nature), however its structure ended up, by necessity I now believe, being flexible.

So as I jump into another novel (or 4) I’ve been thinking about screenplay structure and how it applies, for me, to novel writing. Here are the elements that I think are most helpful when crafting a 1st draft.

1.Three Acts – Beginning, Middle & End – this might be a no brainer for most writers, but it is odd how many stories don’t actually have a clearly defined beginning, middle and end. It is amazing how many novels and/or movies I have read/seen that don’t end well (God, that can ruin a story!!).

So pull out a piece of paper, divide it lengthwise into three sections, and jot down a sentence to describe the beginning of your story (aka your set-up), the middle (aka the confrontation) and the end (aka the resolution). By the way, each sentence should be about the plot not about the characters feelings or thoughts — what happens?

2. The beginning – start with the The Inciting Incident – what is the one action or plot point without which your entire story could not actually take place? Start writing there, and don’t worry about an introductory chapter or setting up the story. What propels the plot? What pushes your protagonist through the story?

After you’ve compelled your 1st draft and you still think you need an introductory chapter, write it in your 2nd draft pass. But start in action, and you’ll suck your reader right into the story. The character background, environmental elements, and other introductory items can be worked into the action of the plot as you move forward.

 If your story is a chess game, you lead with your queen not one of your pawns. Pawns are follow-up, development. Start strong. Play your queen.

[spoiler alert] In my novel, After The Virus, the inciting incident is when my main protagonist, Rhiannon chooses and then succeeds in escaping her captors. Without this action (aka plot point) none of the remaining story is possible. Note my emphasis on the protagonist choosing to act, there aren’t many stories that can function well with a passive protagonist (there are, of course, always great exceptions to this and any other rule).

3. The middle – also known as the place where writers go to die a slow, painful death – solidify your The Midpoint – this is your hook from which your entire story hangs. If your story was actually hanger this would be the hook that hangs off the closet rod.

The entire first half of your book builds to this point and then something happens that propels us into the second half of the book. This something is directly tied to the main plot and completely changes the game. Someone dies, someone loses, or, in less action driven narratives, someone has a massive epiphany. This is the point of no return. The characters will never, ever be the same and, to repeat myself because I think it is important to stress this point, there is no going back.

 To take this a little bit further, the midpoint is usually tied directly to the inciting incident.

[spoiler alert] The midpoint of my novel, After The Virus, is when the mute child, Snickers, falls in the river and Rhiannon – ever the hero – chooses (again, chooses, and risking her own life) to dive in after the child. How is this tied to the inciting incident? By jumping in the river after Snickers, Rhiannon finds herself entering, under duress of course, the very city she escaped at the beginning of the novel, forcing her to confront the thing she ran away from. This midpoint also causes Will, the secondary protagonist, to step up and spring into action. There is literally no turning back from this point forward for Rhiannon or the plot.

Side note: speaking of being flexible with your 1st draft. What is now the midpoint of my novel (spoiler: Snickers going in the river) I had first thought was my turn into the 3rd Act (The Climax). As I was writing, it became apparent I was wrong and this plot point was actually my midpoint.

4. The ending – ramp up to The Climax – after the midpoint this is what the entire set-up and confrontation of the novel has been building too, and, after this point, it is all resolution, which doesn’t necessarily mean we are in the happily-ever-after section of the story, but that everything that happens after the climax is a reaction to that climax.

This must be a big moment, ideally it should involve all your main characters, and it is (to paraphrase from Save the Cat) always the darkest night of the soul.

[spoiler alert] In After The Virus, the Climax is the moment Rhiannon stops fighting her (second set of) captors, willingly adopts the movie star persona – a mask which she has spent the entire novel attempting to shed – and chooses to face the evil she’s been running from, in order to save the child.

The 3rd Act of After The Virus opens with my absolute favourite scene of the novel. Here is the snippet:

 A brisk, salty wind, they must be very close to the ocean here, blew through the buildings and billowed around and beyond her. The dress was instantly slicked against her. She could feel the light fabric lift about four feet behind her and her hair a similar sail. Her silk-sheathed nipples rose in protest of the chill, and a murmur, punctuated with gasps, rustled through the following crowd. She gritted her teeth at the exposure, at the perceived sexuality, at the perceived vulnerability of an involuntary bodily function.

They reached for her then.

Lining the sides of street, suddenly as far as she could see, they reached fingers for her, but didn’t touch.

She walked like that for a full block, so close she could feel the brush of energy from each fingertip –thousands of fingers.

What was she to them? The time before? Whatever it was, it wasn’t a role she was willing to accept, or that she was even qualified for.

That’s it! Just four elements with which to construct your 1st draft: Three Acts, Inciting Incident, Midpoint, and Climax … just make sure the Inciting Incident, Midpoint, and Climax are all tied together, like knots along the same piece of string.  ETA: I also like my stories to be shaped like a bow … by tying the very first scene to the last in some way  – if I can. This technique will be most obvious in my upcoming release, Cupcakes, Trinkets, and Other Deadly Magic.

Be flexible, let the writing just flow, and don’t edit yourself … at least not until the 2nd draft!!

bits of Cupcakes, Trinkets and Other Deadly Magic

I’m working my way through the 2nd draft of my new WIP, Cupcakes, Trinkets, and Other Deadly Magic. It’s an urban fantasy. Here are some of my favourite bits from this week’s writing (unedited and unproofed, FYI):

 – from Monday:

I flung myself at the bus, attempting to not simply collapse on the stairs of the open door.

I couldn’t breathe. The driver didn’t find this particularly charming. I tried a smile, and got an answering one in return. Though I think he might have also just noticed my heaving chest. Good, maybe that would distract him from the fact that I had no fare.

“Hi … “ I managed to speak between gasps, but was becoming uncomfortably aware of the yawning darkness of the vampire-filled night behind me. “Thank you for stopping.” Okay, so it was just one vampire. He was one too many.

 – from Tuesday:

“How did you know I lived here?”

The wolf shrugged. “Smells like you.”

“It smells like me?” I echoed, because, when surprised, I tended to be an idiot.

“Yes, your magic is tasty.” This time the wolf did show her teeth when she smiled. I thought that might indicate the conversation was moving in the wrong direction … the woman-eating direction, and not the good kind.

 – from Wednesday: 

I didn’t answer. The conversation had gotten too serious, too quickly for me. My guard was down. I was feeling soft and malleable after the terrifying evening and the yoga class. I was feeling like leaning on Hudson would be a terribly easy thing to do … right before he broke and probably ate my heart … though I think, according to my research, werewolves generally frowned upon man-eaters.

 – from Thursday:

I’d protested the change of location but Sienna had insisted my living room wasn’t the right spot for an earth-based spell, and, countering my suggestion of a park, she laughed and murmured something about needing the protection of the wards.

I hated it when Sienna murmured about magic. A murmur had led to many a close call in our youth. I’d lost my hair at sixteen because of a murmured caveat. It took two months for the skin to grow back on my left hand when I was twenty, also due to a offhanded ‘foot note’ murmured by Sienna.

Why I kept following her into these situations was pure stupidity on my part, but it seemed she always caught me just at the right time — this time I was angry and needing to prove I wasn’t just worthless garbage to be left on the side of the road.

Hence the dirt that was now coating the ass and legs of my second favorite pair of jeans. The floor was actually hard packed, but still dirt rubbed off.

 – from Friday:

Gah! I didn’t end up writing Friday. Boo.

What have you been working on?

From this week’s writing:

I am currently in the middle of writing the first draft of The Seer of The Wastelands, which is the direct sequel to Spirit Binder, and will be hopefully released this December. Here are some bits from this week that struck me as tiny pieces of gold among the dull, serviceable rock of the first draft.

Monday:

Jose stepped toward Ema. “You underestimated me, Seer,” he growled.

She shook her head sadly, “No, you underestimated the wolf.”

He glanced back at the wolf, it regained its feet with a shake of its head. A nasty cut sliced through the thick pelt of its broad shoulder.

“A second blow with finish the beast.”

“Not from your sword.”

He turned back to her, holding his bloody sword aloft. “And why not this sword?”

“Because its wielder is already dead.”

“What — ” He stumbled, and looked, rather belatedly, down at his leg. It was bleeding profusely. “But I heal,” he murmured, confused.

“Not this,” Reyes snarled, and stabbed Jose through the heart from the behind.

Tuesday:

Reyes snickered. “Let the Seer do her tricks if our host requests it. I wouldn’t personally believe a word out of her mouth.”

“A man like you wouldn’t want to believe in anything beyond himself,” the Rancher replied, calm but forceful.

Reyes narrowed his eyes as he bared his teeth in a grimace of a smile. “We are your guests,” he growled, and then rose to leave the room.

Wednesday:

As he came to his finish he whispered, “Ema,” into her neck, and she realized it was the first time he’d called her by her given name. Later, when she cried his name again and again as his fingers brought her over the edge of bliss and beyond, she understood the need to name the source of that utter pleasure, that moment of utter freedom … no matter how fleeting it was …

Thursday:

“Get out of bed, Seer,” Wyn snapped.

“They will wait,” she murmured.

“You knew they would come,” Jared said, something dangerous not well-hidden in his tone.

“Yes,” she whispered, and he moved away from her.

“You knew they were coming when you came to me last night?”

A door click indicated that Wyn had retreated into the hall.

“Yes,” she answered, pulling up the sheet to try to dampen the chill that surrounded her now.

Friday:

“We are well met, Jared Null,” she whispered. “All will be well.”

“You are dismissed, Null. Run along after your friends,” the corporal sneered, and Ema suddenly hated him for his prejudice toward the mercenaries, even though his attitude was typical and expected.

“Ema,” Jared said, her name a quiet and desperate sound that seemed to explode from his chest painfully and without intention.

She closed her eyes and repeated, “We are well met.” Then she turned away.