Inspiring Mondays

Today's picture is of a Drow. Drow are dark-skinned elves that live underground. In Champion of Valor, they tend to be all about themselves and often clash with their underground neighbor, the dwarves.

Deadlines

Are you the kind of person who flourishes when a deadline is looking? Or do you panic and stress out and freak out instead of working?

I'm the former. I need deadlines. I need to have a goal, something that keeps me in line and focused. Without deadlines, I just flounder along, making excuses. A deadline wipes out my excuses and leaves me with nothing but work.

In case you can't tell, I'm on a deadline for Champion of Valor, so that's why this post is so short. Hope everything's going well for you all, whether you're working for a deadline or not!

Vampires should die... oh wait a second...

Vampires have been done to death... or have they?

Personally, I'll read just about anything. I'll read vampire stories and I don't think I'll get tired of reading them any time soon. And if you walk through a bookstore, you'll see vampire books everywhere.

That said, am I in the minority here? Are people sick of reading vampires stories? Or are you still reading them?

I've written a few short stories about vampires but not a novel. I'm trying to decide if I should write some more vampire shorts or shorts involving selkies. I'm leaning toward the vampires considering that one of the main characters in Champion of Valor is a selkie.

Which short stories would you be more like to read - vampires or selkies? Oh, I should mention that the vampires are more traditional vampires - horror, not romance. These vampires are creatures of the night. I vant to suck your blood and leave you to die kind of vampires.

Seriously Series

I like to read standalone novels but I also like to read series.

Growing up, I adored the Babysitters' Club and Sweet Valley High (there's doing to be a new series for the twins with them in their late 20's). The Anne books. Nancy Drew. I loved the Chronicles of Narnia and Lord of the Rings (although technically, LotR is just one really long book).

Since then, I've read many more series, including Harry Potter. Currently, I'm on book 3 of the Sookie books. I really liked the first book. The second is good but not as good as the first. So far, book 3 seems even more downhill.

Will I continue to read them? Yes. But why have they started to turn south on me? That's hard to say.

I've been thinking about series a lot lately as I'm working hard to finish up Champion of Valor, Book III in the Kingdom of Arnhem series. I want to tie up all the loose ends, develop the characters from the previous books further even while I balance introducing new characters and races. It's a balancing act.

I think with series, it's important to continually build. You have to have character growth in each book and throughout the series. Each book should be separate and yet when read together, there should be something more. There should be an overlying arch to the books in a series.

Do you like to read series? Why or why not? What's your favorite series? Mine is probably Harry Potter. Or Outlander.

Writing The Next Line Blogfest

3:00 am. Those numbers glowed green, staring at me, letting me know I wasn't sleeping. I couldn't. If I did, who knows what injury I would wake up with. Every night a dream would consume me, and when I woke, something on my body was cut, bruised, or almost broken.

I started at the ceiling. The fan squeaked and wobbled, trying to produce air flow. It wasn't succeeding. I turned over, hugging my pillow. What's happening? Maybe I should see someone, but who? A doctor? Padded room for sure. Is there such a thing as a dream specialist?

A branch scratched the window. I turned over again. 5:00 am. Where did the last two hours go? Adrenaline pumped through my veins, accelerating my heart. My T-shirt was damp and clinging to my back. What happened? Did I dream, again?

Bang. Bang. Bang. I jumped up. Someone was at my door.

"Who's there?" I called.

No answer.

I threw my covers aside and threw the door open. No one was there.

Of course not. I climbed back into bed.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Maybe if I ignore it, it’ll stop.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

I covered my head with my pillow.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

“Leave me alone!” I threw my pillow at the door.

The door opened but still no one was there.

Maybe a glass of warm milk would help me sleep. I walked downstairs into the kitchen and paused. The refrigerator door was already open, the milk on the counter. I picked up a glass full of milk and drank. The milk was not too cold and had no hot spots. It was perfect. I returned the carton into the fridge and closed the door.

“Hello, Megan.”

I jumped and dropped the glass. It broken into a million pieces, its shard flying everywhere.

“Greg, what are you doing here?”

“You need to go to sleep, Megan.”

I trembled all over. “You can’t be here. I’m seeing things.” I closed my eyes and began to sing a song. After I screwed up the second verse, I opened my eyes, hoping he was gone.

He was still there.

“You’re dead, Greg, you died two weeks ago. A teenage driver hit your car.”

Greg tilted his head to the side. “I do remember a car crash.” He stepped forward, toward me.

I backed up until I bumped into the wall.

Greg still approached, his bare feet stepping on the broken shards of glass. He didn’t react to the pain, didn’t leave blood on the floor.

I screamed and ran past him, up the stairs, to my bedroom. I slammed the door shut and locked it. Climbed into bed.

Everything would be better in the morning. I couldn’t wait for the sun to come up.

“You need to go to sleep, Megan.”

I screamed again. The door was still shut, still locked, but Greg had somehow gotten into my room. He advanced and grabbed my pillow from the floor. He forced me to lie down on my bed and pressed the pillow to my face.

Just before my vision turned black, I could see flashing lights and heard tires screeching. Only then did I remember that I was the teenage driver that had hit and killed my brother.