April, 2010
Teaser Tuesday: Reaping
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It’s that time again! Here’s a little excerpt from my newest WIP. It’s very, very rough, but I thought I’d give you a hint at what’s to come. đ
I tapped a sheaf of papersâwhich was all that was left to do after my latest transportâso the pages lined up, and placed them off to the side to bring to the file clerk, even in the Otherworld there was paperwork. I adjusted my stapler on the corner of my desk so the edges matched up, spending almost five minutes making sure it was perfect. Then I slipped my pen in the drawer, and preceded to organize my already organized files, going so far as to make sure the files in the alphabetized folders were also in alphabetical order.
This wasnât done to make sure my workplace was tidy; it was a way of stalling. Just after Iâd transported her to her final destination, Iâd received a message from Azraelâmy boss, âMeet me in my office when youâre done,â and Iâd been a nervous wreck since.
That wasnât at all the way it was supposed to happen. Usually, I got a âgood jobâ when I handed in my paperworkâif he was around. If Iâd done really well, I might have even gotten a handshake, but Iâd never gotten called to his office. And especially not the second Iâd returned from Elysia. In fact, Iâd only ever been to his office once. The day Iâd arrived.
Almost no one went to his office, unless you were a member of his Assembly or you did something very, very wrong. I was not a member of his Assembly.
When I caught myself straightening the pencils in my drawer so the tips all faced the same direction, I forced myself to get up and go to Azrael.
His office was similar to mineâas were all the officesâexcept it was bigger. A lot bigger. But then when you where in charge of every single reaper in the Otherworld it only made sense.
The walls of his office were a fawn color and had wainscoting along the bottom, while my walls were a dingy yellow, as if they had suffered through years of smoking. His desk was beautiful rosewood, while mine was a dented, brown, metal military surplus. He had a beautiful Turkish rug over Mahogany hardwood floors and I had threadbare carpet over concrete.
I stepped into the anteroom, which was a smaller, cozier version of his office. It was where he did his more informal discussions with those in the higher circle. Those that had gone beyond just a simple collector or transporter. Candlelight lit the room, giving it an even more homey feeling.
As modern as the Otherworld had become, it still didnât run to modern conveniences such as electricity. There really wasnât any need. Reapers didnât need the comforts humans did. Cold, heat, light, dark. None of that mattered to us. If we were lucky enough to be given an assignment that meant becoming corporeal, than it would. We would feel the same humans did, but that was rare and only given to the most trusted reapers. An experience I hoped to gain one day.
I grinned when I saw Azrealâs hound sleeping in the center of the Aubusson rug. One massive eye opened, then the rest followed suit. His tail waged, and three tongues appeared from behind rows of razor sharp teeth. I knelt down to scratch his belly with both hands, laughing when his leg started kicking. For a dog that had three heads and was larger than myself, Cerberus was as gentle as a lamb. With people he liked anyway.
âWhose a good boy? Huh? Whose a good boy?â One of his large heads lifted and his tongue slurped up the side of my face. âEww!â I exclaimed, laughing, and trying to wipe the slobber off with my sleeve. âKeep that up and we wonât play Frisbee later.â His tail thumbed heavily.
A throat cleared behind me and I jumped up to stand at attention, trying not to show my embarrassment of having been caught by the man himself, playing with his dog. Cerberus whined, stood, and went to his masterâwho gave him a few strokes behind the ears of one of his headsâbefore going to curl up in the corner.
âEmily, itâs wonderful to see you again. I donât get to nearly enough,â Azrael said, and took my hand to shake it. He gestured to the couch behind me. âPlease have a seat.â
My nerves settled slightly as I took a calming breath. We werenât going to his office, which meant I wasnât in trouble. I sat, but didnât relax completely; Iâd still been summoned. That was never a good thing.
He waited until I sat before doing the same, and then steepled his spidery thin fingers together. He propped them under his chin and then leaned forward to rest his elbows on his thighs, studying me, while I watched him. His dark hair and pale skin glowed under the lamplight. His eyes locked onto mine and stayed there, not even blinking.
When I started to fidget from the intensity of stare, he smiled. âYes, I do believe I was right about you.â
That threw me for a loop and I blinked. âSir?â
âWhen I brought you on board.â His smile grew. âI saw something in you. The others did not agree, but you have proven me right time and time again. As you well know, there arenât many that were in your position that are offered what you were. I am quite proud of you, Emily.â
I blushed and looked down at the hands Iâd clasped in my lap. âThank you.â
He stood up, drawing my attention back to him. âThere is a request I must make of you.â
Knowing better than to interrupt, I waited for him to continue. He walked across the room to shut and bolt the heavy door, sealing us into the room. A feeling of dread settled over me.
âYou did well with your latest,â he said, returning to seat.
âSir?â The abrupt change of subject confused me, but did nothing to expel the dread that was creeping into every corner of my being.
âThe woman. With the heart failure.â
âMrs. Crous?â I asked, stupidly, my eyebrows winging up.
He gave me an indulgent smile. âYes, you would know your charges name. You always do.â
âI donât understand.â
âThat case could have been very difficult.â
I gave a soft snort. âHow so? It was just a standard C & T.â
He shook his head. âThere is no such thing as standard, Emily. But yes, sometimes they are easier than others.â He stared of into space again.
I waited him out, being careful not to say anything. Whatever was on his mind was big and it was bad. Worry and little prickles of panic tickled my nerves.
âWe have a problem,â he said, with a sigh. âA big problem. And I need your help. Iâm making you a part of the Assembly.â
âM-me?â Ohmigosh.
âYes. Iâm afraid youâre the only one it can be. I trust no one else.â His eyes hardened when he said it, stopping me from asking any more questions. He tossed me a file folder heâd pulled out of thin air. It never cease to amaze me how he could do that. âStudy that.â
With a slight hesitation, I flipped it open and read through it. The only sound was the rustling of pages and Cerberusâ light snore. When I finished I looked back up, my brows furrowed. âI donât understand.â
âThereâs been an influx of ethereal activity in the past six months, but no one can find the source. Weâve monitored it, but it wasnât until a girl died and Cera, whoâd been assigned to her, came back without the girlâs soul. Because there wasnât one to collect.â
Shock poured over me. âShe sold her soul?â
He shook his head and sighed. I worried Iâd disappointed him, but it was sadness etched onto his face. âNo. Worse. Read it again.â
I read through again, carefully this time. Going over a few pages several times just to make sure I was reading correctly.
âSomeone stole her soul?â
He gave me an indulgent smile. âI knew it wouldnât take you long,â he said, rubbing a hand over his eyes. It was the only outward sign of agitation Iâd ever remembered seeing on him. âYes, and sheâs not the only one. Iâve had three more reapers come back empty handed.â
âWhy? Who?â
He shoved a hand through his hair. âThere is no good reason and thatâs what Iâd like to know.â
âWhat do we do?â
âI can do nothing. Itâs you thatâs going to have to do it.â
I almost swallowed my tongue. âMe?â
âI need somebody I trust to go to the Corporeal worldâto become corporeal.â He watched me as the news sunk in. âYou will try to find out who is doing this and why. We also need to find everyone whoâs missing a soul, so we may return it to them after we get it back from the creatures that have taken them and you have to do it quickly.â
âWhy?â
âThe longer a human is without their souls the less chance weâll be able to get the body to take it back and the more chance that someone is going to realize theyâre living, talking, and eating with living, breathing zombies.â
I burst out laughing. âZombies? What like those horror flicks that humans are always watching.â
His mouth tilted up a little in the corner. âYeah, a little, but theyâre not like that exactly. The voodoo definition is a more accurate description.â His lips went back to the straight line heâd held before. âBut this isnât a laughing matter, Emily. We donât want any more innocents dying without their souls. And I donât want you to lose yours.â
My heart leaped into my throat. âWhat do you mean?â
âDemons and reapers donât get along because Reapers impede the demons need to corrupt innocent souls. They canât harm a soul as long as we are they to courier them to the Otherworld. If a demon knew you were thereâespecially the one thatâs the cause of all thisâthe results could be disastrous.â
âBut why me? Surely you have someone whoâs been around longer, someone whoâs dealt with this kind of thing before. Someone who isnât here as a punishment.â
âBecause youâre the only one I trust.â
I narrowed my eyes. âWhy?â
âBecause in lifeâand deathâdespite yourâŚmistake, your soul is pure. You have a kindness that knows no bounds, and most importantly, you still remember what itâs like to be human.â
Speak up:
7 commentsRoutines: Are they as important as everyone says they are?
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What I’m reading: Tantalize by Cynthia Leitich Smith.
What I’m writing: “Reaping” Scene 2 of Chapter 2
What I’m listening to: Fighter by Christina Aguilera
Last week I was writing my FAQ page and I came to the question about routines and I realized I didnât really have one. But as a SAHM and an author I realized how important it was for me to get one.
But that may be easier said then done. Not to mention that last week was spring break, so that meant DD and DS were stuck together in our tiny little house 24/7 for over a week. I have contest entries to judge AND for some masochistic reason, I decided to try and write for script frenzy. Needless to say I have been extremely stressed out and if it hadnât been for my year pass to the Orlando Science Center I would probably be bald and rocking myself in the corner.
So, I wanted to talk today a little about routines. Every one says in order to be successful you have to have one. So I went back over my day and found I did have a routine. Not much, but one that works for me.
I get up every weekday morning to take DS to school, then I check my email, play around on the internet until DS and DH wake up, and then make breakfast.
After DH goes to work, I play with DD until lunch and then naptime. Hereâs where I get 3 lovely, blissful hours of writing time. This means that if Iâm on a role, I can easily pump out a chapter. If not, well then thereâs a lot of staring at my screen and yelling at my characters to âjust do something.â
Then itâs off to pick up DS from school, lord over him to complete his homework and chores, and greet DH when he comes home from work(this last part is extremely important. đ If I don’t great DH when he gets home from work, he get’s extremely grumpy).
After dinner, when the kids are in bed, thatâs when I get to read or write, depending on whatâs nagging at me the most. It’s usually a little of both.
Weekends are left for the family. So I usually donât write. If the story is flowing really well, then yes, Iâll write, but for the most part I need this time to recharge.
So, do I have a routine? Yes. But itâs very, very lose and open to interpretation. What does this mean? Iâm not sure, to be honest. đ But Iâm thinking it works for me and that I should keep doing it.
And Iâm going to say the same for all of you. If the âroutineâ you have is working for you, donât change it because someone tells you you have to. Each writer, mom, dad, boss, whatever, works the way they need to. Which is the best way for them. Find a pattern that works for you and stick with it.
So, I want to know, whatâs your routine? And does it work for you?
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4 commentsBefore I’m thirty.
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A few weeks ago a friend of mine turned thirty and it got me thinking about what I’d like to do before I turn 30. And then
a member of my writing group here in Florida posted a few things today on the things she wanted to do before she was thirty and it got me thinking about my own list of goals. Iâve decided to do the same and post what my list was, just for funsies.
Things Iâd like to do before Iâm thirty.
1) Get a publishing deal from one of the big five
2) Meet my agent, my BFF from Canada, and all the members of my critiquing group.
3) Go to Mardis Gras. (I keep telling myself I will do it this year, but it never happens. So next year, Iâm MAKING it happen. )
4) Go to comic-con in San Diego
5) Meet one famous person.
And there you have it. My List. Iâd love to know what your list is. Feel free to comment below.