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9097_10150302215524970_935804015_nWorks in Progress Blog Hop

I was nominated for a Works in Progress blog hop by Crystin Goodwin. I know I don’t do this kind of thing very often, but Crystin’s debut novel, UnBlessed, has been on my TBR list ever since I read Jesse’s fabulous non-review here for Rosie Amber’s Book Review Team. I’ve just started reading it, and holy YA!—was Jesse ever right about all the stuff she wouldn’t tell us.

Apparently, now I’m supposed to contact all my buds and invite them to participate so that we can all get a voyeurs’ peek at their work in progress. And I’m so okay with that. Except for the organizing and coordinating and… Everyone who knows me even a tiny bit knows what part of that isn’t going to happen. So instead, here are links to some incredible writers who made the HUGE mistake of visiting my latest blog post. (See…your mother was right. No good deed goes unpunished.)  Maybe you can join me in trying to sneak peeks at their latest and greatest.

Sue Vincent: Sue’s luminous blog, The Daily Echo, is the mashup of her artist/photographer’s eye, tours of ancient Britain, books, poetry, a graphic novel, and (hilarious) commentary from the small dog she belongs to.

Seumas Gallacher: If there’s a word—or a thousand—to describe Seumas, I don’t know them. He’s a tartan-bleeding Scot who hasn’t lived in Scotland for decades, an incredible writer of thrillers, social media glutton, and writer of Seumas Gallacher, one of the funniest, most interesting blogs on the web. (And he rocks the kilt! Don’t miss the video link mid-page.)

S.K. Nichols: Susan’s blog, my brand of genius, shares reviews, thoughts about writing, and (hopefully) work in progress. I absolutely loved her book, Red Clay and Roses, and can’t wait for what’s next.

Georgia Rose: She posts literate and thoughtful reviews and interviews on her blog, Georgia Rose Books that are always entertaining. And that’s all very well, but fans of her writing are impatiently waiting for the third and final volume of her thrilling Grayson trilogy. Maybe she can (temporarily) pacify us with a few snippets?

There are so many more of you out there. I’d like to challenge every writer I know to join in and post for this WIP blog hop. The rules are very simple:

  • Link back to the person who nominated you.
  • Write a little about and give the first few lines of your first three chapters from your WIP.
  • Nominate some other writers to do the same.

cropped-null-city-metro-station3.jpgI’m just finishing up the next book in my Null City series, Round Trip Fare. Each book in the series is in the Null City world, but basically functions as a stand-alone, with its own set of main characters. In this one, Carey Parker is a bounty hunter working for the Accords Agency enforcing warrants for those attempting illicit use of their special gifts. But her goal is to find her missing brother and sister, lost defending Null City. The book begins with Carey as a teenager training to be a warrior.

Sign posted in the Metro Station: 

SUPERPOWERS SUCK? For a normal life, Null City is only a Metro ride away. After one day there, imps become baristas, and hellhounds become poodles. Demons join the PTA, and worry about their taxes.

The only sound in the impossibly light-filled room is the tapping of her fingers on the keyboard. Fed by the smallest part of her awareness, the celestial light reflects off her screen. She absently dims it and checks the clock icon. To the Eldest, she knows, time has little relevance and email even less.
Multiplayer online games help.

Chapter 1
2002: St. Helens Ranch, Eastern Washington State
“I need a bigger sword.” Carey ran her finger along the edge of the slender blade before laying it on the picnic table. Her twin grunted but didn’t raise his eyes from the book in front of him. She paused to pull a knife from her boot, dropping it also onto the table.

Chapter 2
Carey pulled one of the long, pointed shuriken from her hair and cautiously inserted it into the cast that had covered her left arm since getting back from the hospital three weeks earlier. The itch was crazy-making, but the shuriken didn’t…quite… reach the spot. Forget this crap. She pulled her knife from her boot and started to cut the cast.
“I wouldn’t do that.”

On Marley’s door, the lock’s tumblers hit the shear line with a satisfying click. Carey grinned. Breaking and entering was one of her little hobbies that Harry frowned on. She’d lost track of the times he’d confiscated her lock picks. Or the times she’d stolen them back.

I’ve shown you mine. Now won’t you show us yours?