NaNoWriWhat?

Originally posted at Flirty Author Bitches:

Yeah, we’re all talking about it: that November marathon of writing mayhem that crushes egos, stresses family relationships and brings up the stock value on Starbucks and M&Ms.
National November Writing Month…NaNoWriMo.
This will mark my fourth outing. I’ve won twice. Let me rephrase that: I’ve completed the word count twice. Because with NaNoWriMo, there are not losers. Just winners and those who slink away, tail between their legs in shame.
I am here to say to you…slink no more!
NaNo can be a lot of fun, if you don’t take it too seriously. I mean, aspiring authors don’t need to crash into any more walls. Published authors don’t need the additional pressure to perform. We all know what its like to look a deadline in the eye and the consequences of not meeting it. Because we signed that thing called “a contract.”
Yeah. That.
Like always, I started late on NaNo, but strong, quickly pulling out ahead of schedule. And par for the course, I got distracted, diverted or otherwise pulled away by something shiny. Usually I can get it back together, but last year, my mother was hospitalized and nearly died in November. I spent most of the month nursing her. And contrary to my expectations, I returned to my forgotten manuscript and finished early.
This year? Dealing with the fallout of an accidental foreclosure on a property my mother owns, and of course, a real, live deadline. It’s today. And I’m behind…and writing a blog for you! Something had to give and its my NaNo masterpiece. But never fear, by Tuesday I’ll be racing to catch up again.
My message is this: do not let NaNo or deadlines or calls for submissions take the joy out of writing. Years ago when I was having a miserable time at both home and work, a supervisor said my job should be a sanctuary from the troubles at home. Unfortunately, the job was worse than my home life, but I understood the sentiment.
At that time, my shelter from both the day job and the home job was my writing. And while its my major occupation now, I fight to remember that this is what brings me joy when I’m unhappy, solace when I’m down. When I’m bored, I think up something new and I write it! In my opinion, there are few greater things than to find happiness and satisfaction in your occupation. I won’t let the intensity of NaNo take that away. At the same time, I love getting that little badge and sharing my word count on Facebook!
So write long and prosper! If you’re doing NaNo, have fun!
Happy Tails!
Belinda

Exclusive Excerpt! Silver/Steel

Coming December 4 to Loose Id!

 

“SO YOU SAVED my son. Then you screwed him.”

Dane didn’t move, keeping his gaze on Dylan’s face.

“You saved him a second time, then ended up here, even after the town rejected you. Why is it I get the impression you’re a hell of a lot more dangerous than any of those rogues?”

“Because I am.”

Dylan wanted to move, to get away from the touch of this alpha wolf. He’d felt and been impressed by the power emanating from Lukas Blacque, but this older wolf’s energy was off the charts. And all of that amazing focus was centered on Dylan.

“How’d you know how bad it was?” He gestured to his ankle.

“Logic. Blacque told me you were old and powerful. He had Jason cuff you with steel. That kid’s cautious and edgy. If he agreed to using iron on you, then he perceives you as a threat. And old fae like you don’t take well to iron or steel.”

Dylan nodded in acknowledgment of his words. He liked Dane Blacque. In another place and time, they might have been friends. But in the here and now, Dylan had to convince the wolves to free him, to let him heal, and more important, to give him the freedom to finish his hunt.

“My son is brilliant.”

Dylan looked steadily at the alpha wolf. Most people would assume the alpha spoke of his elder son, but he knew better.

“He is. And his mind is restless. That’s why he tends to…run amok.” He couldn’t hold back the smile. Dane smiled back.

“You understand him, then. He’s more dominant than he gives himself credit for, but he doesn’t want to lead. Blacque didn’t either, but he can’t escape his own nature to be an alpha. Travis, though…his contributions will be different. Great, if he finds himself.”

“He doesn’t want to be at the bottom of the pack structure. He’s afraid of fighting, so he seeks confrontation to defy that fear. He craves structure yet is a free spirit.”

“Do you love him?” Dane leaned forward. Dylan sat up straight, fighting the urge to retreat.

“I barely know him, Dane. And he barely knows me.”

“That’s not what I asked. I know damn well the fae don’t mate like shifters do. They claim their partner. They draw blood and mark their lover. Gender isn’t an issue. Reproduction isn’t an issue. Fae like you fall hard and fast, and while you don’t have the whole ‘mate for life’ thing going on, you guys are pretty permanent. For you, love isn’t just a gift; it’s a weakness that can be exploited.”

Dylan literally felt the blood drain from his face. Dane Blacque spoke the truth, but it couldn’t be the case. He tried to recall the last time he’d been in love. It had been in another life, another world completely.

“No. I am far too old.”

He paused when Dane laughed.

“I’ve been accused of being a cradle robber, but my target was only decades younger than me. You must be older than Travis by a century, maybe more.”

“Much more,” he whispered through stiff lips. “I don’t know that I am capable of love.”

“Of course you are. That and the bite on Travis’s lip are all that’s keeping me from slapping a steel collar around your neck and dragging your ass out of town.” He let loose of Dylan’s leg. “That metal had to hurt. Badly.”

Dylan nodded.

“And I’ll bet you didn’t complain once. Not to Travis, anyway. See, you don’t want him upset. You don’t want him feeling bad for something he has no control over.”

Dylan looked away, every word lodging in his heart like iron-tainted arrows. He cursed the alpha, and he cursed Travis. He cursed himself for being so vulnerable, for falling so easily.

“You’re dominant. It oozes from your pores. Yet he commands you. Because of that, you won’t do anything to hurt my son, will you.” It wasn’t a question.

Dylan raised his chin slightly. He met Dane’s dark, sharp gaze. A brief shake of the head was all the alpha needed—and all he had to give. Because the geas was far more powerful than any love or compassion he might feel for anyone. He’d already hurt Travis; the kid just didn’t know it yet. Thanks to the wolves, he knew exactly who his prey was, knew what he looked like and where he lived.

For a moment he considered not following through, not fulfilling the hunt.

The geas screamed at the thought—the brands burned his skin. He winced, grateful the wolf would blame the iron poisoning for his pain.

“It is unlikely your son is as bonded to me as I am to him. When I am healed, I will leave.” His heart twisted at the words. It wasn’t the artificial pain of the enchantment, but true grief of his heart. He’d loved unwisely and would suffer the cost.

“Quite the sacrifice, Dylan. I guess I’ll have to be satisfied with that, then.”

Things That Go Bump...

When I was very young, my elementary school held a Halloween Carnival every year. It was one of the most fun, highly anticipated events in the area, with game booths, trick-or-treating, cake walks and movies. I think my favorite part were the cake walks, because even though I couldn’t see well and had no “skills” whatsoever, I still managed to win a cake almost every year. Then we’d head over to one of the darkened classrooms and watch horror films.

They were usually old Hammer flicks, B-movies that were weak spin-offs of the old black and white classics. I do remember seeing Dracula, Frankenstein’s Monster and the Wolf Man in the mix. I don’t know…maybe that stuff all rubbed off on me because I certainly took the old tropes and over the years, spun them into my own mythos. But instead my vampires wearing formal wear and speaking in an Eastern European accent, they wear Dickies and coveralls, and are French, English and American.

My werewolves spun out of those movies as well, generally they’re working class men and women, more comfortable in auto shops, construction sites and police cruisers, though some journey out into space. And no matter the pack, under the watchful eye of their alpha, they tend to live in a communal fashion, their status earned and their bounty shared. As Blacque would say, “Damned Socialist Werewolves.

I haven’t ventured out into the land of the Modern Prometheus…yet. My mind just can’t find a sexy angle to zombies and undead creatures. But at some point, I’ll be sitting around, maybe looking at the moon and inspiration will strike.

Until then, you get my shifters and vamps and all the other paranormal creatures that inhabit Belinda Land.

So as my gift for the Howloween Blog Hop, I'm giving up a bunch o' swag...stuff I have reserved for RT. Some nice stuff here, guys! If you live outside of North America, I'll substitute the prize for your choice of 2 of my backlist e-books. So leave a comment to win! And I apologize for posting late, I have no internet access and couldn't post from my Android.

So, what's your favorite character from a scary movie?

Coming in December: What do you get when you throw together a young wolf shifter on a bad drug trip and an ancient fae assassin on a lethal deadline?

Silver/Steel…(was formerly Dream Hunter, and then Cold Steel. Let’s see how long this title lasts!)

Coming in December from Loose Id Publishing