Right in the middle of Off the Beaten Path Giveaway, I’ve taken a break from the guest posts to enjoy a beautiful autumnal afternoon. Around the ridge, trees are reddening and orange leaves are falling. The air is crisp and the sky is terse.
Gaia is in the hands of the second and final proofreader. Elios and Marie’s Journey are both being edited. Gaia’s cover is almost done as well. For the first time after months, I don’t even remember how long it has passed since last time it happened, I am writing something new. Well, Notturno it’s one of those projects I started one year ago, but I never finished it, therefore it counts as new to me.
From Notturno, a NA fanstasy novel:
Dalia found the three of them more and more revolting as minutes passed. She shrank to the farthest corner of the cage, hoping they would leave her inside and never come close enough to touch her.
The woman who was now staring at her with unblinking black eyes, held a malevolent expression on her wrinkled face. She shook her head in mock disappointment. “By the end of your staying here with us, you’ll wish the mercs kept you.”
Dalia would have told her she was already of the same opinion, but she closed her mouth tight. Her new captors didn’t seem sound of mind, and she was already of the impression that anything she’d say or do would trigger their bad tempers. She shivered under the woman’s scrutiny.
“What are we going to do with you?” The woman stepped back and tilted her head one side and then the other.
“Let her work for us.” Dant joined her, and they stood side by side, looking at Dalia.
Lars walked close by and then passed them, heading straight to the cage. “That’s a great idea, methink.”
Dant seemed to think about it for a moment, and then smashed his open palm with a fisted hand. “She could work in my bedchamber.”
Dalia was now uncontrollably shaking.
“Yes! Can she work in my bedchamber too, Catal?” Lars took the woman’s hands in his and jumped up and down, like an overgrown child.
The woman, Catal, slowly shook her head, the beads at the end of her tresses noisily clinking against each other. “You never take care of things. What if you break this one? She looks too scrawny.”
“We’ll take good care of her. We’ll even walk her outside—” Dant’s hands slid up to the woman’s elbows.
Catal forcefully loosened his hold on her arms. “She is a nocturnal. Remember?”
Monica La Porta 