Here’s a sneak peak of Redline Lover. I think I first posted a snippet of this (different snippet) two years ago. This has been on the back burner for a while. Hopefully will have a date for this soon.
Charlene Teglia all rights reserved
When you’re running in the redline…you’re riding the edge
“That makes twice Maggie’s joined you for lunch,” Pete said, leaning over the engine compartment of the truck Adam had been working on when she arrived. “I guess you’re not scared of a girl.”
Given the nail marks she’d left up and down his spine, it might’ve been smart to be afraid. Or at least wisely wary. But all he felt was the deep sense of well-being that came from having a fundamental need satisfied. Adam made a non-committal sound and checked the battery connections.
“I’m glad,” Pete said. The serious tone made Adam look up. “You deserve to have something more than work to look forward to.”
This sounded like dangerous ground. “There’s nothing wrong with work.”
“Not as long as that isn’t all there is.” Pete jerked his head towards the office. “Speaking of which, you have a package to deliver.”
A rush of adrenaline fueled his body. “It’s enough for me.”
“If you really believe that, you’re dumber than I look.”
“I have what I need.”
“Uh-huh.” Pete gave him a skeptical look. “You do now. Let me know if you feel the same way when she leaves your ass cold a second time.”
“It doesn’t matter how I feel.” Adam felt his face harden, felt lead in his center.
“The hell it doesn’t.”
Adam shook his head. “It doesn’t, and that’s why.” He made a gesture in the direction Pete had first indicated. “You know what she’s doing while she’s back here? Trying to get a story.”
“So give her one.”
“I can’t do that.”
Pete gave him an exasperated look. “Not the whole story. Just enough truth to make her believe that’s all there is.”
“And then what?” Adam felt the urge to tighten his hands into fists and deliberately relaxed them instead. “Live with the lies?”
“It’s not lying. It’s withholding information on a need to know basis. She doesn’t need to know.” Pete shrugged. “It’s the Washington way. She grew up here. Half her friends’ dads couldn’t talk about what they did for a living. It wasn’t that long ago that the NSA still pretended to not exist.”
“She’d think I was lying about something else,” Adam bit out. “She’d find out I was gone when I was supposed to be at work, and she’d connect the dots. They’d be the wrong dots, but I wouldn’t be able to tell her the truth. You think she won’t leave my ass cold when she thinks I’m cheating on her? I’d rather she walked away now and left us both with the memories.”
“Memories should be real comforting. Let me know how that works out for you.”
“Shut up, Dr. Phil. I have a package to deliver.”
I know there’s a lot of discussion about the value of social media, and for those debating whether or not Twitter is truly necessary for them, I present: ten things I learned on Twitter.
1. From Heather Osborn, I learned about this. And now I know in my heart that it is my one true love, the dessert of my dreams and the only one I’ll ever need. Except for those times when I need a little creme brulee.
2. From Shannon Stacy, I learned about this book. I’d buy it for the title alone, but it also has a Navy SEAL.
3. From Dorchester Publishing, I learned that Jeff Strand’s Bram Stoker Finalist novel, Pressure, is available now in mass market paperback, and it’s socially responsible, too. I have loved Jeff Strand’s work since How To Rescue a Dead Princess. I’m sure it’s equally socially responsible, if you want to pick up more than one Strand book to make your week complete.
4. From I Can Haz Cheezburger, I know whenever there’s a new lolcat. I think the value of this service speaks for itself.
5. From John Scalzi, I have learned many things about bacon. And cats. And bacon cat.
6. From Anya Bast, I learned about a good source for French lessons.
7. From Neil Gaiman, I learned about Crazy Hair. (I can always claim I bought it for my kids. Shhhh.)
8. From Powell’s books, I know when they are having a sale.
9. From Kate Rothwell, I learned that not everybody has the same kind of midlife writing crisis. Some of us want monsters and explosions, some want, er, something more serious and grownup.
10. From Holly Lisle, I get reminded of the value of doing what you love: "Do what you love because you love it. Doing something selfless means you get nothing out of it, that it’s meaningless to you, that you erase yourself by doing it. And yourself is ALL YOU HAVE. Never erase yourself. Never choose to do things that are meaningless to you, whether out of guilt or duty."
And there you have it. Life enhancement via Twitter. And it could be yours, too.
Spent the last two days doing research and revisions for a novella that a plot and location change impacted significantly. For the better, but there’ve been a lot of details to pay attention to, and I have been dutifully paying attention to them.
But the crack book lurks and pounces. I wake up in the wee hours of the morning and there it is. “Look! This scene! This is how it goes!”
I know how this works. If I start to write the scene, I’ll look up hours later and I’ll have written another chapter. So I’m not going to fall for the “just this little bit, just a page” song and dance. I’m sticking to the novella.
When novellas are gone, crack book can have its way with my brain.
(Yes, novellas are fun, too, but the revision work uses different mental muscles, which is probably why crack book is so omnipresent right now. It’s using the rest of the brain space not currently occupied. Which leaves me nothing for daily life so I’m trying to avoid turning on the stove.)
I keep working on Red Queen when I’m supposed to be doing other things, which is why I’m calling it “the crack book”. It’s addictive and won’t leave me alone. Here’s a sneak peek:
When planning a fairytale wedding, it’s dangerous to forget an important fairytale rule; the uninvited guest always curses the celebrated event.
copyright 2009 All Rights Reserved
“Did you invite anybody interesting to our wedding? Some little detail you didn’t tell me?”
“Not an invitation. I sent an announcement.”
I nodded. “To who?”
“To the griffin king.”
“Griffins,” I said. “Like a lion, but with wings? Those are for real?”
“For real. And the king of the griffins is the king of all beasts.”
“We have an evil overlord?” I burst out.
“Not evil. Just overlord.”
“Do we need his permission to get married?”
Zack shook his head. “Mating is a pack matter. But it’s polite to notify the sovereign of these things. We haven’t had a queen for over twenty years. We may be invited to court so you can swear fealty.”
“Court being full of other shapeshifters,” I said. “Any of whom could be a psychopath.”
“David and I would never leave you alone.”
“Why am I not reassured?”
“Because you’re very smart.” Zack hugged me hard. “Mostly the various races of shifters keep to themselves and their own territories. Court has its own set of rules.”
“In other words, at court even a wolf queen has to watch her step?”
“Yes. It’s not our territory. We don’t have the final say there. And maneuvering for power isn’t a purely human phenomenon.”
“You really know how to kill the afterglow,” I muttered. “Is there anything else you didn’t mention before? A family curse? A wicked stepmother?”
“Good.” I felt faint as it was. “Glad there aren’t any further surprises waiting. So I should be on my guard against feral shapeshifters, and the griffin king might send us a royal invitation we can’t refuse.”
“That covers it.”
“Just so we’re clear.”
Via the random number generator, the winner of one signed print copy of Miss Lonely Hearts is Fran Lee. Congrats, Fran, and I’ll need your snail mail address to send the book.