From Haunted Houses to Haunted Mirrors
News & Networking
Happy Valentine's Day! This has been my week for finishing past work. I wrapped up a novel, newly named A Spirited Encounter on Tuesday, and then finished up a novella, A Kiss for Luck, on Wednesday. The novella may be of special interest to all you romance writers out there who like to turn a dark phrase or two. Nocturne is calling for submissions for in the 10,000 to 12,000 word range. So, do what I did: write one in 4 to 5 days. You have nothing to lose, and if Nocturne don't want it, someone else will. Novellas, because they are a quick lunchtime read on a PDA or mobile phone, are growing increasingly popular. I didn't master the novella "technique" until late last year, but it's one worth pursuing. I'm still not all that good at the genre, but it's about expanding your abilities and increasing your readership.
I've also been blogging, answering interviews, and next week am being interviewed by a journalist. It's been a very busy time for me!
Have a great day, one and all!
http://www.shelleymunro.com/blog/2008/02/13/guest-blogger-nd-hansen-hill/#comment-3466
Also, this week, I blogged at: http://talesofthetrade.blogspot.com/
Tempter (I may want to stick this in a book some time): Saturn's moon, Titan, has more than enough natural gas to supply our Earthly requirements, but the source is a long distance away: 750 million miles! Methane in the atmosphere led scientists to inspect Titan's lakes, where many of the hydrocarbons are found, and they've turned out to be rich repositories. The hydrocarbons cannot really be utilised at such a distance, but it certainly makes for interesting reading, offering insight into this orange moon. To read more, visit http://dsc.discovery.com/news/2008/02/14/titan-oil-cassini.html
Save Your World: Red Cross (discussion of rescue efforts and how you can become involved) http://www.volunteermatch.org/nonprofits/partnerships/arc/index.jsp
Now, an excerpt from one of my books - Grave Images, methinks. Enjoy!
It was trying to wake him up. Jarron could feel a restless tugging at his blankets; a voice in his ear.
A sense of self-preservation made him force open his eyes, only to find that the room wasn’t dark at all. Besides the dim light at the head of his bed, there was an odd glow to one side, that grew brighter as he watched.
It’s the drugs, Jarron tried to tell himself. He’d welcomed the painkillers ever since the doctor had told him he needed to get more sleep. Only Jarron knew it wasn’t the pain that was keeping him awake—it was the loudness of his thoughts.
He’d told the doctor about the hallucinations, but no one else—other than Kris. Jarron didn’t even know why he’d admitted it to Kris.
A moment of weakness.
He’d regretted it ever since. Ever since he’d seen that flicker of fear in Kris’ eyes.
There were other things, too, but they weren’t as frightening as the weird visions. That time when Wakeman had come into the room. Things like knowing who was standing outside the door, or that there was someone else in the room, even before he opened his eyes.
Like now.
He wanted to close his eyes; to block it out and pretend it wasn’t there. Like he’d done as a kid—hide under the blankets, Jar.
Only he knew it wouldn’t go away. It was too demanding. Insistent. He suddenly realised that hiding would be worse—would give it the opportunity to intrude closer on his space. To prod and poke the blankets. To maybe find a way inside—
Stop it.
Face it.
In the other bed, he heard a gasp. “Jar!” Nick whispered.
But Jarron was busy facing down his demons. “What—what do you want?” he asked, unaware that he’d spoken aloud.
It was the trigger. Like a vortex of swirling golddust, the glow gained substance—gathering it from the far corners of the room.
The outer door was pushed open. Andy Wakeman stood there, stunned, as the creature took form. The light in the hall seemed dim compared to the brightly glowing translucence of the apparition in their midst.
Jarron was only vaguely aware of Wakeman’s presence. He was staring now, at the oddly ethereal beauty of the being at his side.
It was a little girl. As he watched, she began to sway. Then, with a flourish and swirl, she began to dance. Swirls and pirouettes—a phantom ballet, but with a childlike innocence that left Jarron stunned.
No evil intent.
She spun, ending it a little clumsily, as a child does. Her redeeming grace was in the lightness of her step. She ended with a curtsy, and her smile told Jarron she was well aware she was the centre of all eyes.
That’s what it is, Jarron suddenly knew. She just wants somebody to watch.
With a smile that seemed to linger in the room, the dancer faded out. Only a slight chill in the atmosphere marked her passing.
Marked her passing, Jarron thought. Such final words.
Grave Images http://www.fictionwise.com/ebooks/eBook3778.htm
Cheers,
Thanks, www.mikesfreegifs.com,
http://www.wondercliparts.com/holidays/valentines_day/valentines_day_graphics.shtml
and www.wilsoninfo.com, for the animations!
