I'm still lame...

Okay, so I'm still lame. Last week was "stop procrastinating, everybody write" week for LARA. I met my goal (I got "Reina's book" entered in a contest), it was such a hectic week at work that it was at the cost of my friday flash. Also, I spent the weekend in SD with the fam and Shamu. So, I greatly apologize for not having a story for you. Again. I'll make it up to you. Promise. Got any story suggestions? This you're burning to know about your fave character? Post away. Have a great week.

Apologies and Triumphs

I'm so sorry I didn't get arround to writing a flash for you -- or posting something. I recently finished True Confessions -- YAY! I was pretty driven to get that done.

As it turns out the Gurlz love the YA story I wrote them so I'm polishing that up for a contest or two.

So, I've been keeping busy. But I do have a few ideas for some new stuff for you. Hopefully it'll be worth the wait.

Flash Fiction Friday

Sorry, I didn’t write anything new for you this week. I am trying to finish a project which has been incredibly difficult to write, though it has also been fun. The Princess Mo is much different to write than Rory. Anyway, here’s the prologue from said project which I call True Confessions of a 4000-Year-Old Virgin. Enjoy!

From the journal of Morwenna, exiled princess of Faerie
© 2008 Suzanne Lazear

We are not mortal. Some of us were, once. Some of us never were at all. We are quite different from mortals in our beliefs, our actions, our thoughts, our work, though generally we try to blend in. Since the dawn of time we have intermittently walked in their world and tried the best we can to not reveal our secrets.

There are many of us, all unique and different. There are the SuNats, the supernatural, the vampires, werewolves, witches, and shape shifters. They have always lived among the mortals since they came about.

The Celestials are entirely different. Whereas the SuNats see themselves as People, and fully part of the mortal world, the Celestials see themselves as Outsiders who partake in the mortal world but are not part of it. They are above that. There are bright and dark Celestials; they are Angels and Demons, Imps and Succubae, and the Gods and Goddess of old and new.

Then there are the Fae – the creatures of Faerie. Like Celestials, there are bright and dark Fae. These are your elves and fairies, your dragons and kitsune, your ogres and goblins. They came from a realm not of this world called Underhill and still do, though many make forays to the mortal world, often to cause mischief or of late, to do business, or even good. Still, many regard mortals with contempt or pity. Dirty, short-lived creatures with little or no magic.

Some High Fae do live among mortals, usually as exiles, misfits and the “forward thinking.” Often they take mortal jobs, sometime mortal mates. They stay in the mortal realm either by force or choice, some flit back and forth trying to balance Underhill with Mortal life. Others have no intention or opportunity to permanently return Underhill

Those who do stay and either can’t or won’t go back are regarded by the other High Fae with contempt or amusement. With pity. But in reality they are just people. People who are just looking for their place in the universe. People who are searching for happiness. People like me.

Flash Fiction Friday -- Chosen

this is the opening of a project I *will* do eventually...


Chosen
©2008 Suzanne Lazear


Arianrhod Annabelle Morgan Epson D’Ingénue pushed the green plastic grocery cart down the aisles of the heath food market. A chubby hand thrust out, pulled a box off the shelf, and waved it in the air. “Cookie mama?”

Ani couldn’t help but laugh at the expression on her toddler’s face. At two and a half, Ceri Nan was a blonde angel who was nearly impossible to resist.

“One treat, alright baby?” She planted a kiss on her toddler’s pale forehead. Ceri Nan reminded her so much of her sisters – blonde, blue-eyed and angelic on the outside, and a bundle of sheer will on the inside.

“’tay.” Chubby bare arms clutched the package to her chest as she rode patiently in the front of the cart while they shopped.

They turned to go down the freezer aisle and Ani relished in the coolness as she opened up the door to the cooler to buy Ceri Nan’s favorite ice cream. It was a hot July day in New Mexico. The kind of day that made her wish she still lived on the coast.

Ani was also wearing a long sleeved turtleneck, but she nearly always did in public. Witches were tolerated in this part of New Mexico, but there was no need to advertise her rank and station.

Her eyes lingered over a package of tofu ice cream sandwiches. Unlike the rest of her little family, she was vegan. She didn’t usually indulge in treats, but the latest round of edits on her upcoming book was driving her to distraction.

Not to mention the trauma of finding her husband in bed with a woman she considered a dear and trusted friend.

Reaching into the freezer case, she grabbed the package. As she closed the door to the freezer case, the hair stood up on the back of her neck in a way it hadn’t for six and a half years. Immediately fear pulsed though her veins. She had hoped that they would never find her again. That they’d leave her alone.

No one defied the curse.

In a second, Ceri Nan was in her arms. The box of ice cream sandwiches fell to the ground, forgotten.

“Cookies,” Ceri Nan wailed. They needed to get out of there. Now.

“Later baby.”

It was too late. Years of nothing had caused her guard to slip. She felt the brush of a hand on her shoulder. It was all that was needed.

If she had been alone, she would have done the same as she had since the first seeker found her at fourteen. She would have used her magic to kill them, then taken off. Before she could be touched.

Gathering up Ceri Nan cost her precious time. Though she would not, could not, kill with her tot watching. Not that there was anything she could do now.

It had been done.

“Arianrhod Morgan.”

That was her name, but not one she had gone by in twelve years. It was what they always called her. Usually they spoke before they tried to touch her.

Fear seized Ani, paralyzing her as she clutched Ceri Nan to her chest. Slowly, she turned to face the seeker. There was no use in running now. A fiery pain on the right side of her face extended from her temple to right below her ear.

He looked like all the others. Slim, tall, muscular, pale. This one had a shock of blue black hair and eyes like blackberry jam. There was a black sigil on his right cheek, extending from his temple, to just below his ear. Her mark.

How did he succeed where the others had failed?

Ani was not the girl she was when the first seeker found her. She wasn’t the woman she had been at twenty when the last seeker came. Now Ani was a mother, a wife, a witch with many responsibilities and a career...

Also, with five seekers dead by her hand, this one had probably been warned.

The seeker spoke again. “Arianrhod Morgan. Daughter of the Dark Moon Tribe...”

This was the day she had feared for her entire life.

Finally he spoke those words. Words which tore at her very soul. Words that tore apart the world she spent the past twelve years building.

What had she been thinking? Why would she be enough to defy the curse?

“You have been chosen by the dark goddess to serve her.”

It didn’t matter that it was broad daylight. It didn’t matter that they were in the middle of a grocery store.

This cannot be happening.

But it already had.

His eyes met hers. Was that pity? Impossible.

She wanted to hate him for ruining her life, for sentencing her to a fate worse than death. A fate that would lead to her death. He was simply doing his job.

“May she bless and protect you.”

The last thing Ani wanted was her blessings or protection. She was already in the service of the brighter aspect of her, and quite happy.

For six generations the curse had wrecked havoc on all female children born into her family. It would for one more.

The seeker disappeared as silently and as quickly as he appeared. That was his gift. No one ever escaped a seeker. The fact that she had, not once, but five times was something out of legend and lore.

As the fiery pain burned on her cheek, tears leaked from her eyes. Her knees turned to jelly as she sank to the ground in the middle of the freezer aisle.

Ceri Nan was abnormally silent, as if the tot knew something had just happened.

Something frightening. Something life changing.

For a witch, it was the thing nightmares were made of. A nightmare she had lived though with both her sisters.

Now it had happened to her.

After all these years of defying the curse of the Dark Moon Daughters, Ani had finally been chosen.

Whew!

Part of the hecticness that's been my life the past few weeks has been good hecticness. In my last round of queries, an agent actually took the time to tell me what was wrong with my sample chapter, give me the title of a book to read, and tell me that she'd read the re-write.

So...

I re-wrote Chapter One three different ways, past them around and obsessed so badly I forbade myself from working on it Labor Day weekend.

But...

I got it done. I sent it and the updated summary off yesterday!

Wow, I feel good.

So my fingers are crossed. Hopefully she likes it. If not, my writing is that my stronger because of this.