Sorry for missing last week! Two weeks ago, shared a passage from book two of my Camp NaNoWriMo WIP. The MS is proceeding very well, and though I doubt I’ll finish by the 30th, I should come pretty close. Woohoo!
For a variety of non-authorial reason, I’ve been in a major slump the last year and a half. This will be the first manuscript I’ve written from beginning to end in that stretch of time. For comparison purposes, I wrote and put out three books in 2016. Sigh.
A fortnight ago, I introduced Opsie Beaverpaw, an alien duchess with a badly scarred face. (FYI, this is a near-future science fiction romance.) It’ll be no surprise to you folks that the psychological effect of the scar is the wound she needs to overcome.
When her nation’s queen arrives at Opsie’s under-construction house, she’s mess after getting plaster on her face. Opsie may be a duchess, but that doesn’t mean she’s rich and privileged.
“It’s me, Queen Elinor,” said the voice through the door, “I’m here to see you.”
Opsie grabbed a paper towel and rubbed her cheek. No mirrors were up yet, so she bent down to see her reflection in the glass covering a desktop picture of her mother, uncles, aunts, nine cousins, and her, back when she was young and still pretty. “Can you give me a moment?”
“Only one. I’m in a hurry.”
Opsie got most of the plaster off, but her right cheek wasn’t smooth. White streaks stuck in the rough, jagged scars that ran from cheekbone to jaw, highlighting her deformity. If this room had a tap, she could wash the plaster off. But it didn’t and she couldn’t.
She straightened. As she faced the mess the plaster had made of her ruined cheek, anger boiled up. She stomped to the door and put her hand on the knob, but paused. Tamping down her anger but defiantly positioning her plastery scars toward the door, she opened it. “Come in, please.”
“Thanks.” Queen Elinor stood back and waved a companion to precede her into the office. It was a man: a tall, dark, and handsome stranger who glanced too long at Opsie’s scars before meeting her eyes.
She disliked him already.
It isn’t the way I usually work, but here I am, 80% done, and I still haven’t decided on a title! That’s very annoying, I assure you. However, I do know that it’s the fifth book in my Alien Contact for Idiots sci fi romance series
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