So I realized I haven’t blogged since September. Ouch, not good Angela! Life has been pretty hectic these last couple of months. The band takes up most of my weekends (if you like Christian music, check out Particle Blue, we have a free download right now! Plus, you can hear me sing a little. Fun? Yes!)
As for writing, much hasn’t changed since September. I’m in my last round of edits and finding some betas to take a read through. So far the feedback has been awesome. I’m really excited about this one and can’t wait to start querying in January! The fun part of edits is rebuilding chapters from the ground up. You read the chapter and you’re like, wow, this just isn’t working, so you scrap it and start over. The result up to this point has been awesome. I love my rewrites even though they mean I have to adjust a lot of other parts, but oh well! Here is a little about the book I will be querying! Super excited. I made a cute mock cover too. Woot, Woot!
The only thing worse than seeing the past and the future, is trying to figure out your own. Which is exactly what sixteen-year-old Scarlett Lux is trying to do. But every time she gets close, Konstantine—Majester of The Society of Assassins—sends one of his minions to capture her.
Lucky for her, Mason Salvatore, an assassin royal, and the mysterious Sebastian Andersson are ready to spring into action to keep her alive. The problem with two hott guys hanging on your every move? Whenever they are in ten feet of each other a fight transpires. But there’s no time for jealousy and kissing (even though Scarlett can’t seem to stop); not when Konstantine is trying to kill her for her light—the power to melt the barriers between realms—a power Scarlett doesn’t know she posses.
Now, Scarlett has to hurry to uncover the past before it kills her.
The Scarlett Lullaby is a twist off the classic fairytale Sleeping Beauty with underlining themes from Helen of Troy.
Want to see a little teaser?? Well, glad you asked!
Here is a little sample of part of the first chapter from Mason’s POV.
Inhaling deep, Mason’s mind swirled, voices buzzed, and scents trailed through his nose until he found the odor—decaying corpse, whisky and cigars—of his target. Upstairs in the VIP lounge Giovanni caroused with two blondes. The excitement and adrenaline thrashed through Mason. It’s go time.
He loved his job.
Mason turned to Leighton, but kept a keen eye on the rest of the place in case other vamps were patrolling the premise. “He’s upstairs, but not alone. Two blood–lovers, plus the entrance is guarded. ”
Black velvet ropes and a large bodyguard kept stragglers from sneaking into the VIP lounge. The only way to reach Giovanni was up the winding staircase. Leighton seemed to notice that too.
“What’s the plan, boss?”
With Mason’s height going unnoticed seemed nearly impossible. Why all assassins were over six feet tall was beyond him. It made sneaking around much harder. Except the females, who resembled runway models with their long legs and slim build.
Mason pressed his palm against the thick stone walls. They dated back fifty years or older, when the nightclub probably functioned as a office and not a place the undead dwelled. Nevertheless, the cracked foundation proved to be sturdy enough to travel through.
“Pose as one of Giovanni’s blood banks,” Mason said, backing away from the wall. “The guard won’t let you in otherwise. I’ll meet you up in time to slice and dice.”
“Are you sure the walls can handle it?”
“Yep,” Mason nodded. “Let the games begin.”
After Leighton sauntered toward the guard, Mason found the washroom. Luckily the stall against the wall was unoccupied. Mason tried to avoid molding at all costs—it sucked and took more energy than he cared to use. But he didn’t have time to fret, the clock was ticking. With his back against the cool concrete, he closed his eyes, and took a deep breath—allowing the process to begin.
The stone drew him in, wrapping around him like a fleece blanket. Concrete poured into his veins, filling each crevice blood touched. No longer human flesh, he and the rock become one. Pain seared throughout him. The first time Mason molded, he swore the process would kill him. Now it was like dipping a hand in ice then into bubbling wax. After awhile you only felt numbness.
And a little piece of Scarlett…
The eerie silence continues as Scarlett stares at the man in front of her. Anxious to find something—anything—to focus on, but molten silver takes the place of true human flesh. After six months, he has yet to fully materialize. Today his hair mimics the sun as it cast rays of light down upon the sand. She imagines his hair would be coarse and thick between her fingers.
Grey shadows drip from his outline, exposing a creamy complexion. Scarlett’s eyes travel along his body and grab onto every crevice of his form. Finally they arrive at his face; those fierce iceberg eyes pour into hers, like she’s drowning in an ocean. The tide snakes through and pulls deeper until she breathes nothing but him.
Unable to resist, Scarlett steps forward and touches him—brightness bubbles through her desperate for an escape. She holds a hand in front of her face, mesmerized, as her palm burns golden. Slowly, brightness weaves into the air, tinged with lilac, indigo and ivory.
Scarlett swallows, instead of fear, she feels whole, as if a void inside of her is filled. She giggles and the pretty light buries beneath the surface, hiding like a gopher from his shadow.
“Dance with me, skönhet.”
He draws her attention back to him and a frown twitches at her eyebrows. Has he forgotten they are unable to touch? He glides close; his gaze never escapes hers. Those delicate eyes of his resemble frost melting off a windowpane in winter. Scarlett imagines his skin is like satin. Even the hairs on his arms are soft and thin, like the web of a spider.
“You must believe,” he whispers, the closeness of his mouth teases her.
She nods, knowing she believes each word he speaks to her. “I do.”
The blurry image flickers as Scarlett holds out her hand. His grip is like thick glass. With one hand on her clothed hip, he hums—the melody sweeter than a nightingale’s song. He twirls Scarlett in; the wintry aura he releases sends her sinking again. His hand travels across her neck, into her hair and down her side as they dance.
“Where are you, skönhet?” His voice hums, deep and familiar. She adores how he regards her as skönhet. Which she learned means, Beauty in Swedish.
“I’m here,” she whispers.
His silvery head shakes, “No, skönhet. Don’t you want to be with me outside your dreams?”
“More than anything in the entire world.”
Her love for him steals her breath away and every moment they are apart Scarlett weakens. Pain wrenches through her as they dance because she realizes soon she’ll awaken, and he shall be nothing but a dream—a dream she wishes were real life.
“I’ll find you soon. Min sovande skönhet,” he says. “I promise you,”
Wishes fill her soul to one day feel his lips against hers. Praying she will be able to memorize what he looks like instead of a shadowy figure with a glass body.
Her name repeats. Then a pull, and like a plunger to her soul, a force drags her away.
That’s all for now folks.
If I don’t post again, MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!
I may not post again till after then, must get this book perfect!!