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Sunday 29 May 2016

Back writing after a difficult week

Oh but its hard being a part-time writer. The day job can be a source of terrible frustration as it never leaves time in the day to get on and do what I actually want to. This afternoon though I have been back at my desk typing away at The Last Titan. Yey!

2036 words drafted today involving Sapphira, an ancient Olympian goddess and and lots of TV sets!

I am enjoying myself.

A quick sample:

SPOILER ALERT - 
THIS IS A DRAFT FROM BOOK 4 OF THE FORGOTTEN WINGS SERIES

The Fermi residence was a quite magnificent affair, a grand glass mansion overlooking the sea on one side and a more traditional brick construction on the other.  It was classy and tasteful I thought as we swung through the gates which opened to let us through, and up the tree lined drive to the main entrance.
“A very good day to you Madame,” said Scolari as we exited the car. I looked at him and frowned. He was the same man who had appeared on the video chat earlier Or at least, it was the same body. As he led us into the house I turned to Margaret and Michael and run my hand across my throat. “He’s already dead,” I mouthed to them. I wasn’t even sure how I could tell that. Maybe it was the absence of any kind or aura (I could after all still normally see something with my ‘short’ Sight) or maybe it was some other more subtle cue. It didn’t matter; I just knew. There was no soul in the creature in front of us. It was dead. As far as one could practically define it, it was a zombie.
Scolari stopped suddenly and faced me. “You know don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Well it doesn’t matter, does it Sweetie? I’m in the house so just carry on following this one.” The figure started forward again. “I didn’t expect you to appear so human. And pregnant? Surely you can do better than that?”
We walked down a corridor and into an atrium with a glass lift. Atomic willed Scolari’s body to take us up to floors and walked us along another length of a landing until we got to a room of noise and shadows. The last zombie I had seen was a pitiful, broken thing that walked with an unnatural gait and moved with almost robot jerks as Kennefick the sorcerer controlled him. This one moved with a fluidity and grace that may even have surpassed what the man had managed when he was actually alive.
The noise I was hearing was a jumble of voices, music, street sounds, some sporadic gunfire, passionate lovemaking … it was a cacophony of different events in at least four different languages. It was chaos. Bedlam.
It was eight or nine large TV screens tuned to different channels, each one blaring out at top volume. Atomic had her back to us as we entered the room. Over her shoulder was a boxing match in German whilst the news played out in Cantonese. There was a Hollywood sci-fi movie in one corner whilst something quite pornographic was happening on the lower right. Elsewhere a war was being fought and cheerleaders were pom-pomming for the Broncos.  Meanwhile, in Deli …
“Is it not fantastic?” the goddess purred. All these stories, all these happenings.  And it’s just travelling through the air. Through the air! The mortals have finally done something to impress me.
I managed to focus on what she said but it wasn’t easy.
“Atomic,” I said, “I come with greetings. I would like to speak with you.”
“Pull up a chair, Sweetie. Let’s just enjoy all this for a while.”
I swallowed my impatience and Margaret pulled up a chair for me to sit on.  The Chinese news programme clicked over to one in Spanish from Panama. To my left was a cage holding a naked woman. She looked at me with wide eyes and mouthed “Help me.”