I love my job!

I signed a contract on 5/26/07 and another today, 6/7/07. Two books on the way, babies! Of Flesh and Blood: Polishing Saber and Mooncusser Cove are in the Liquid Silver Books pipeline!

And the sequel to The Orca King is at 8000 words and I just wrote the first love scene. The hero of this still unnamed sequel (HELP ME! PLEASE!) is Tommy, Big Tom's son. The heroine (who has the same name as my heroine in Polishing Saber because I'm stuck on the darn name and I need to come up with a different one! I'll take your help here, too!) is getting ready to chase some whale tail :)

I love writing. I love sending my ideas off into the ethers to be pulled into your computers where you are both amused and titillated by my prose. What more could a girl like me ask for?

Not a heck of a lot, I'll tell you!

Darr!

oooo...Dare to with Darragha! (I just came up with a new tag line!)

Gisli, Shfiter. Vampire. Hero.

Okay...lose the tattoo (which I haven't quite figured out how to remove in PhotoShop yet) and this guy is a fairly good representation of Gisli (Geezli), my environmentalist shifter/vampire in Polishing Saber.

Here's a little snippet about Gisli:

Gisli cursed under his breath at the opening of the clay tomb found buried in a niche in the cliffs by an eiderdown gatherer. It was a remarkable find. One with dire consequences. He had long rued the day; wished for it never to come.

He had thought the item well-hidden. He had been entrusted to preserve it as a reminder of the great war between the Hidden Folk and the witches; a silent memorial in hopes that such wickedness would never live to serve and control humankind again.
The Old Ones, Gisli included, had grown complacent and even arrogant and vein thinking that they had ridden the world of men and women from the fabric of evil.

The moment the warm hand of the down gatherer touched the clay sarcophagus, Gisli awoke from his long sleep and he realized his dreams of a secure homeland were false and misleading. The ever vigilant, but rarely combatant Hidden Folk, called him to action. He was responsible, thereby he was charged to put right the situation.
He, himself, had sealed the baked earthen box and witnessed in silence as volunteer Hidden Folk transported it and hid it deep inside the basalt of Grimsey. They had sacrificed their lives to the sea after that last great act to protect the secret.

Only Gisli remained—and he went into deep hibernation.
Four hundred years passed. Time, tide, wind and rain had eroded just enough of the crypt to make it the perfect place for eider ducks to nest and leave behind their soft, highly sought-after down.

The man who found the box didn't know what it was--but knew enough to phone the Museum of Sorcery and Witchcraft in Hólmavík, a small fishing village in the western fjords. It was no coincidence that said museum had been founded so far off the beaten track. It had been built upon the epicenter of witchcraft in Iceland. In the lands sacred to the Hidden Folk. In the lands coveted by developers.

Hopefully, there is room in the hearts and computers of readers for a new breed of vampire. This ain't your mama's Carpathian. This is a blood-sucking, shape-shifting , very blonde, very attractive Old One out to save Iceland from developers.

So, what do you think about a vampire with a mission?

Darr