Okay, the epically talented, and ever-lovely Memo made us a treat!! Okay, she made me a treat but I thought you all might like it as well. Squee!!!
The Women of the Adept Universe – Phase One:
From left to right: Kandy (werewolf), Scarlett (witch), Jade (dowser/alchemist), Pearl (witch), Mory (necromancer), Burgundy (witch/healer), Gabby (amplifier), and Peggy (telepath).
Waiting on the next book in the Adept universe? Idols and Enemies (Amplifier 4) is coming soon!! Subscribe to my mailing list to make sure you never miss a new release!
I thought it might be fun for you to get a glimpse of the process that Memo goes through when she is working up a character for the Adept Universe bible. After we chat about the particulars (description, characteristics, etc), Memo works up a preliminary sketch. Then she sends it to me for feedback.
This is Peggy and Gabby in ‘progress.’
The twins appear in the third Dowser trilogy as well as Misfits 1. They will both eventually ‘headline’ their own books in the Misfits of the Adept Universe seres.
I’m working my way through the Amplifier books today, making sure all the ‘marketing’ bits are in place as I ready for the upcoming push through to the release of book four (preorder TBA). And I happened upon this scene (and the scene right before), and – once again – blubbered through it. Ugh. So much heartache on the Five’s path to freedom of choice.
We were about three-quarters of the way along the corridor when Flynn unleashed his death curse in the northeast stairwell.
By succumbing to death.
Magic slammed against Fish’s nullifying field. It actually shoved him forward into Knox and Bee.
The concrete floor rumbled under our feet. Anyone in the path of the spell, whatever team was blocking the northeast stairwell and whoever had hit Flynn with the spell that had killed him, wouldn’t be left standing. In fact, based on the light display pulsing across Fish’s shield, I doubted whether the stairwell would even be passable.
A sorcerer of Flynn’s caliber held a lot of magic in his blood, in his life force. Enough to wipe out many enemies.
But then, if you were willing to die to do so, you could wreak a lot of vengeance.
Waiting for the residual to fade before moving, we all turned to look at Zans.
She was standing a couple of steps ahead, head bowed, hands clenched at her sides.
Flynn’s magic faded.
Zans glanced back down the corridor, snarling and laughing at the same time. “I bet that stung them. And I haven’t even gotten started yet.” She pinned her dark gaze to me. “Are you with me, Socks?”
She didn’t have to ask. Truthfully, she really shouldn’t have asked, because there was wild magic embedded in vows — when the words were wielded by those such as us.
“To the end,” I said.
“To the end.” Knox, Bee, and Fish echoed the words behind me.
Magic shifted around us, then settled. We were already tied. By birth, by blood, and by magic. Those bonds might have been forced upon us, but we had no one else. No reason not to die for each other.
We lost our rooster Fuzzy a couple of weeks ago, but I was way too emotional to post at the time. The original plan in the Fall of 2014 was to only have laying hens. But when we sold/gave away the other cockerels from our first batch of chicks, no one took Fuzzy so he just kind of … hung out … then suddenly found himself overseeing a flock of hens.
Fuzzy the Blue-Lace Red Wyandotte, sharing the best greens with Red.
We had a rough time when we first moved to Salt Spring Island. I adored Vancouver. And I really, really missed it. Getting the chicks helped cement us on the island, and – nine months later – when our landlords broke our ‘long-term’ lease, it was the chickens that helped us make the decision to stay, to find a place where we could house them on our own property.
Fuzzy overseeing his ladies.
Sometimes when I couldn’t sleep at night from the anxiety that surrounded that time in our lives, I would imagine the chickens cuddled up in their coop, sleeping peacefully and cooing softly to each other.
After a snowstorm and terribly distrustful of the chilly ‘white stuff’.
Fuzzy had been having trouble with his legs for the last two years, and the vet couldn’t figure out the issue. We carried him around a bit for the last few months of his life, just when he needed help or encouragement. Placing him with his ladies when they were free-ranging always made him happy. He loved giving them treats or finding them comfy places to nest, though they usually ignored him. He used to crow after us, calling us back when we dared to leave the property for a walk.
Fuzzy flaring his neck feathers at getting his picture taken.
The night before he passed, he tried to wander off after sunset. But we tucked him in the coop with his ladies and he passed way in his sleep.
Watching over his ladies.
RIP Fuzzy. Thank you for bringing so much light into our lives.
Cabin addition update: Michael built the floor to my new office on Saturday!! Squee!
I’ll be removing the last of the download codes from the Oracle audiobook giveaway in a few hours. As of writing this blog post (according to my end)(there is a delay in the reporting), there are 10 UK codes remaining. The next giveaway goes live at 3pm PDT next Saturday, Aug 1.
The Reconstructionist audiobooks have found a narrator! Whitney Dykhouse!! Whitney is booked until the end of August, so she will start recording in September and the first book should be available in October (depending on upload times, which are currently taking 30+ days). With the next two books following a month apart.
Amplifier 4 is off to the editor for line/content edit! So as soon as I get my hands on a book cover, the preorder will go live. Whoot! I’ll be doing a BUNCH of promos/marketing through Aug/Sept, including temporarily making Amplifier 0 free (yep!) and more audiobook giveaways.
I broke my glasses yesterday. I’m pissed about it because I paid an obscene amount for these frames hoping they could last at least ten years. Sounds like the frames need to be shipping off to Japan for repair (if they can be repaired), which means I have to buy new frames so I can continue functioning. To that end, I have a ‘shopping’ appointment at 10:30am today. I loathe shopping for anything, but trying to buy glasses while wearing a mask is going to be delightful. Hopefully, I find something serviceable quickly!!
We’re reading Grave Memory (Alex Craft 3) for the MCD book club over on the Facebook fan page until Friday, then we will start discussing book 4 (leading up to the new release in August)!
GIVEAWAY CLOSED! As promised last Saturday, here is the audiobook giveaway for I See You (Oracle 2)!!
Cover design by Elizabeth Mackey. Narrated by Jennifer Grace.
Okay! As before, this is a first-come, first-win deal. The giveaway remains open until all the download codes have been claimed. I’ll give away codes for book 3 next Saturday.
Do you want to listen to I See You (Oracle 2) on audiobook?
Yes?
Okay then!
GIVEAWAY CLOSED!!
Reviews are always welcomed and appreciated!!
Did you miss this giveaway? Don’t worry, free codes for book two will go live on Saturday, August 1 at 3pm!
Something shifted in the air around me, stirring the strands of hair that had loosened from my French twist. It wasn’t magic. Or, rather, it wasn’t magic I’d ever felt before.
I straightened, following Kett’s gaze back toward the main path. “What do you mean?”
“Apparently, Garrick blood runs true.”
The grass to my immediate right heaved upward, dirt churning and wooden shards thrust to the surface as the occupant of the grave wrenched itself free of its earthy confines.
I stumbled back, slamming against Kett and bruising my left shoulder.
The corpse pulling itself free of the grave was fresh enough that it still had hair and sinew attached to its graying skeleton. Then the sod and soil churned to our left. A thick-boned arm thrust free of the ground, clawing forward as it dragged a head and upper body into the night air.
Both zombies homed in on us. With the crypt behind us, our only clear route was back toward the main path.
“Oh, Jesus,” I whispered. “Oh, mother of God. Please, Lord.”
Nothing like a zombie rising to convert a witch to Christianity.
“Don’t fret,” Kett said, patting my shoulder awkwardly. “I doubt she can raise more than two or three at a time.”
Jesus Christ. I was cowering against a vampire like some damsel in bloody distress.
I pushed away from Kett. He let me go.
I was a witch. Witches didn’t cower in the face of magic. I was a Fairchild — whether I wanted to be or not. Fairchilds didn’t hide from the darkness —
The earth churned above four more graves. And those were only the ones I could see in the intermittent moonlight.
I sidestepped the nearest zombie to my right, zigzagging through the corpses freeing themselves from their graves all around us as I ran for the main path.
Kett moved with me.
We were past the last row of headstones, four or so feet from the pavement, when something grabbed my ankle.
I shrieked despite my resolve as I almost went down. Kett caught me. I twisted to look behind me. I was held fast by a rotting arm. A zombie had grabbed me even before wrenching itself free from its grave.
Looking back was a mistake. Dozens of zombies had freed themselves from the earth and were shuffling their way toward us. Still more corpses in various stages of decay were pulling themselves from their final resting places.
Kett snapped the arm holding my ankle in two, then flicked the severed limb back behind us. It slammed into the bony forehead of the walking corpse nearest us. The zombie’s head snapped back with the force of the blow, bone splintered. The vampire had broken its neck with a flick of his wrist.
The zombie stumbled, but it kept moving in our direction.
Kett was smiling. Actually smiling. Not smirking, not curling his lip, but a full-on, joyful, thrilled smile.
“Stop smiling!” I shouted.
He laughed. A breathy, rushed, eager laugh. He sounded human. Specifically, he sounded like a human who was about to do something incredibly stupid.
The sound chilled me through. “Smiling and laughing isn’t appropriate in this situation!” I yelled, completely losing my own connection to what was appropriate.
Kett picked up a headstone as if it weighed nothing to him. He tossed it up in the air.
I cranked my head up, unable to do anything but watch as the vampire went mad in a graveyard teeming with zombies.
The stone flew straight up, appeared to hang in the air above us, then spiraled down straight for my head.
“Hang on,” Kett murmured against my craned neck.
I threw my arms around his shoulders. He spun, taking me with him. Outstretched bony fingers brushed my cheek.
We stopped spinning.
The headstone crushed the zombie that had been about to grab me.
Kett threw his head back and laughed again.
Jesus. It was a game. The vampire was … playing.
I was going to die.
I had fought, then bargained for my life at the tender age of sixteen. I’d earned my emancipation, protecting myself from anything or anyone who could possibly have hurt me in any way since then.
And now I was going to die in the arms of a deranged centuries-old vampire, eaten alive by zombies.
Last night I sent this scene to the narrators I’ve called back for the Reconstructionist audiobook auditions. And, listening to these exceptionally talented narrators reading it reminded me just how much I love this moment between Kett and Wisteria!!
Coming soon to a pair of headphones (earbuds?) near you. I mean, they have to be near you … otherwise, you wouldn’t be able to hear anything through them. Never mind. You know what I mean!
Paisley shoved herself between Aiden and his father. A single tentacle sprung forth from her neck. It was wrapped around a large bovine bone. The demon dog flashed a double row of sharp teeth at Kader, then poked him in the thigh with the bone.
“Ah,” Kader said. “Look at you, beautiful. I didn’t know that any of you had survived.” He glanced at me. “Did you get the entire litter out?”
I hadn’t. Only Paisley had survived the destruction we Five had wrought on the compound when we’d escaped the Collective.
Paisley poked Kader with the bone again.
“Yes, sorry,” he said to her. Then he wrapped his hand around the end of the bone, gazing deliberately into Paisley’s blood red eyes.
Silence stretched. A distant rooster crowed, then the rooster overseeing our flock responded. An airplane passed overhead.
Aiden glanced my way questioningly.
I shrugged. Paisley had done something similar when Opal had appeared on the property, making her hold the bone as well. I hadn’t thought to mention it to anyone. But the demon dog seemed to be using the bone that Aiden had given her as some sort of way to vet intruders, friend from possible tasty treat.
Not that I’d let the demon dog eat someone. Though, even I couldn’t stop everything that might happen in the heat of battle.
– Excerpt from Idols and Enemies (Amplifier 4), 4th draft. Releasing Sept/Oct 2020.
MCD taking a water break while hiking at Ruckle Park. Pender Island in the background. Picture secretly taken by Michael.
In an effort to collect all my thoughts for the week in one place, I’m going to try to blog an ‘update’ every Monday. So, yes, this is completely doomed to be a one-off. Ha.
I’ll be removing the last of the download codes from the Oracle audiobook giveaway in a few hours. As of writing this blog post (according to my end)(there is a delay in the reporting), there are 6 USA codes and 11 UK codes remaining. The next giveaway goes live at 3pm PDT next Saturday, July 25.
I’m looking for a narrator for the Reconstructionist series. I posted a call for auditions last night and have already received a bunch of GREAT reads. I’m so excited. I’ve already shortlisted FOUR narrators and I have a bunch more auditions to listen to. It is going to be difficult to narrow down!!
I’m starting my next pass on the story edit of Amplifier 4. This means I go over everything I changed last week and decide if I like it. Then I address all the notes I skipped because they were too hard to wrap my head around at the time. Usually, the second pass smooths everything out.
I made another attempt at baking wheat-free banana bread yesterday, half almond flour/half paleo flour. It wouldn’t bake in the middle. Literally. I had to cover it in foil and kept checking it – over and over – every ten minutes and the center still wouldn’t bake!!!! I’m giving up. Two failed attempts are all I can handle.
We’re reading Grave Memory (Alex Craft 3) for the MCD book club over on the Facebook fan page.
Okay! I’ve got words to edit, auditions to listen to, and lemon sherbet to churn!
