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Editing, drowsing, procrastinating
I went through and did a rough-edit of A&E. I think I did a pretty good job and I've been patting myself so hard on the back that I may have sprained something :P
Here, have a taste. It's a broment between Warrick, Caspian, and Melissa:
The first time Warrick went out with Melissa--or Blue Devil as she'd been named--Caspian had raised his eyebrows as high as they would go and burst into laughter. Warrick had to glare at him to get him to stop.
They were at their meet up point on top of an old candy factory. There was still the faint scent of burnt sugar and the red and white candy cane striped smoke stacks were rimed with black soot. Warrick couldn't help feeling as though they'd stepped back in time. Back to when they were kids themselves, just starting out and so fucked up and confused that it ached to remember.
"Come on, you're going to give the kid a complex," Warrick said.
Caspian shook his head. "Dude, I thought you vowed to never be the guy that took some kid into a deadly situation?"
"Well, times change," Warrick said. "Besides, she's still got her training wheels on, so we'll try to keep her out of the more hardcore situations until she's ready for it."
"Is Vereint okay with this?" Caspian asked. "He's not worried about something happening to her?"
Warrick shifted his utility belt to stop it cutting into his stomach. "He's worried, of course he is, but he checked to make sure that she could do all the moves suggested by the League training manual."
"No one can say you're not thorough," Caspian said, "so I guess I'm not too worried if you're not." He still looked a little uneasy though, probably flashing back to all the trouble they'd gotten up to when they were young.
"Did you guys forget I was here?" Melissa asked plaintively. She had pulled the black head stocking on, but held her blue mask in her gloved hand.
Caspian gave her head a rough rub, his gloves squeaking across the smooth material of the head stocking. "Big people are talking." He laughed at her outraged expression and pulled his foot away from her retaliatory kick. "I'm just kidding with you, kid. Don't take life too seriously."
Melissa gave Warrick a look. "All that training we did is really in the League manual?" she asked.
"If you're going to be my sidekick you're going to be the best sidekick out there," Warrick said. He made a mental note to get her a copy of the manual. "Other heroes will be wishing theirs were even half as good as you."
Caspian gave him that "You're crazy" look he'd gotten so good at. "You don't think it's a little childish entering your sidekick in a Whose Sidekick Is Better Competition with a bunch of superheroes that don't even know they're competing?"
"Probably." Warrick shrugged. "But you better believe I won."
Caspian shook his head. "Your drive to win is completely ridiculous." He looked around. "How is this supposed to work?"
"What do you mean?" Warrick asked.
"Usually you carry me, but she doesn't fly." Caspian looked at Melissa. "Do you?"
Melissa shook her head, biting her lip.
"Don't worry so much," Warrick told her. "I'll carry you both in. It should be easy."
"It doesn't seem like a great long-term plan." Caspian ducked out of the way before Warrick could slap his head.
"It's not meant to be." Warrick glared at him. "I'll have some superscientist make us a mini-jet or something."
Melissa gave him a doubtful look. "Can you fly a plane?"
"No, but I'm willing to learn." He nudged her shoulder. It was hard having her question him. "Don't worry about it so much. We'll figure things out."
She was wound so tight that he wanted to tell her it was going to be fine, but he had a pretty good idea she would only believe it if she saw it for herself. She needed to get some experience under her belt before she could relax.
He gave her a soothing look. "You climb on my back and hold on. I'll carry Caspian old school style."
"What's that?" She cocked her head.
"He hates the bridal carry," Warrick said, "so I have to hold him under the arms like baggage."
"Hey, I'm right here, you know," Caspian said.
"Sh," Warrick touched his lips, "superhero and sidekick are communing." He gave him a shit-eating grin. "Payback, bitch."
"Ew. So you carry him by his pits?" Melissa shook her head. "What if he's all sweaty? Gross."
Warrick laughed. "Welcome to the glorious career of a superhero. Long hours, low pay, and a short life expectancy."
"And stinky pits," Caspian added with a grin.
Warrick knew they were being light-hearted about a serious business, but he figured Melissa would face the horrors of superheroing in due time. And when that happened, she would need all the good memories of the job she could get.
It was always the quiet moments when they could laugh and joke that Warrick thought of. Because no matter how bad things got, he knew Caspian was a great partner and would always be there for him.
He clapped his hands, forcing his mind back on track. "Come on, kids, we got stuff to do today."
"Super stuff," Caspian lisped.
When Melissa climbed up on his back, Warrick was reminded of how young she was. It was like holding a scrap of silk; she could blow away at any moment and he wouldn't even know she was gone until she screamed and hit the ground. It was a sobering thought.
"Make sure you hold on tight," he ordered.
"Yes, sir," she replied cheekily. He thought she might have thrown a salute at the back of his head.
Caspian gave him a grin and held his arms open as though for a hug. "I think she's going to fit right in."
"Thank you, I'm sure," Warrick said. "You just better know that any bad habits she picks up, I'm blaming on you when Vereint asks."
Other things happening:
- Shorts and Squares: Jagged Blade is dropping January 14, if all goes well.
- I am working on rewriting Visions of Blood & Shadow, Blood Wine, and Fantasy. They will be re-released with new covers and everything. Nice.
- Paradigm Shift is on schedule and will be released in February.
- I will be updating "Little Bit Strange, But Still Special," "Rolling In the Deep," "Faster Than the Speed of Love," "Off to See the Wizard," and "Honest Liar."
- The Panic Pure is being edited and will be available (hopefully) late February or early March.
- I have been working on feygan.com and have added a bunch of stories and will continue to add more.
Here, have another excerpt. This one is from the upcoming Faizel 02.
Sometimes Ewing wondered if they had invited a devil into their midst. Because there wasn't a doubt in his mind that Charlemagne was possessed.
And the devil was named Faizel. Charlemagne's darling love.
Ewing personally thought of Faizel as a booty call gone wrong, though he would never say it aloud. He valued his life too much.
Charlemagne wanted to keep Faizel secret, and Ewing was willing to go along with it. Because honestly, how could he even explain someone like Faizel? The guy scared the ever living fuck out of him, and that was no lie.
"Are you certain that this is the way you want to do things?" Deacon asked in her "I'm a completely hard as nails Law Officer" voice.
Ewing fought to keep still where he knelt on the hard wood floor along with the other low level vampires. It was pretty boring, but he wasn't one to battle the status quo. He didn't want to get tortured and killed.
Isadore had been summoned by Prince Lucian and they had all been forced to come with her and display her level of awesome to the rest of the Lords and Ladies. It was kind of a relief to look across the banquet hall and see the other retinues; some of those guys had it really rough.
Ewing didn't even want to think about what was up with the guy with the weird metal clamps on his face or the chick with the fish hooks through her nipples. All he had to do was wear old fashioned clothes and serve imaginary tea; that didn't seem so bad in comparison to what those other schlubs had to put up with.
Seeing that everyone was focused on the drama unfolding in the middle of the room, he risked stretching his back and cracking his neck before getting back to his frozen position. He even dared to lick his dry lips a minute later.
Back when he'd been human, he'd fantasized about what it was going to be like when he was Turned. He'd imagined lounging around wearing cool clothes. He'd imagined driving fancy cars and owning the city and everyone in it.
Instead, he dressed like a complete hose-bag and catered to a woman that made his testicles shrivel. She was hot, with long waves of inky black hair and eyes that seemed to have been permanently rimmed with heavy black kohl. She was also hardcore pathetic, though she expected them to do whatever she wanted.
He'd thought being a vampire would mean freedom. Instead he'd been forced into the life of some old lady's permanent bitch-boy. His place in the Hierarchy was so low he didn't even get to sit in a chair--he spent his time kneeling with his palms to the floor.
He wasn't jealous of Charlemagne's higher rank though. That guy was in a much worse position: He actually had to sleep with the old broad whenever she wanted. Isadore was sexy, but Ewing had no desire for her. Which was probably the reason why he was kneeling on the floor rather than standing behind her throne-chair all mannequin-faced like Charlemagne.
Stuff was getting loud and there were angry words being said. Law Officer Jenny Deacon was looking for some missing girl and she'd requested that Prince Lucian gather all the master vampires in the city so she could question them. She seemed to think the girl was in an Enclave somewhere and of course all the vampires knew which one because none of them could keep a secret.
Ewing had never realized Deacon was so arrogant. Storming the Prince's Citadel and demanding answers as though Lucian were a peasant She was lucky Prince Lucian had the hots for her, because Law Officer or not, he would have torn her apart if she were anyone else; Ewing had heard the stories. But she was so raw to the job that she probably thought she could take on a Prince.
Charlemagne thought she was an idiot, and Ewing couldn't help agreeing.
Ewing risked a peek, and there that expression was on Charlemagne's face. He had to muffle a snort.
Most people would probably have thought Charlemagne's face was blank, but Ewing knew the guy better. There was an extra bit of arch to Charlemagne's brows and a barely smoldering flame in the back of his eyes. He was holding back a sneer through sheer force of will.
Charlemagne played his role perfectly, but Ewing knew how much he hated to have his time wasted. He had to put up with it from Isadore, but Deacon was only human. Charlemagne would never be indecorous enough to step out of line in public, but Ewing could tell he wanted to.
From the minute he Woke for the first time as a lesser vampire, Ewing had known the best he could hope for was being a master's lackey. His place in the Hierarchy had been set by his biology and there was nothing he could do about that. Charlemagne, though, he was one of the lucky ones. He was of the master class and Ewing had never seen him hit his limit. He was strong enough that Ewing wondered why he took orders from some masters that were obviously inferior. Yet Charlemagne would just bow his head and do as he was told.
It was weird.
There was a sudden loud crash and a load of screeching and Ewing found himself caught up in what was taking place in front of him. The boring posturing was over and it was time for some action. He was reluctantly entertained.
Here, have a taste. It's a broment between Warrick, Caspian, and Melissa:
The first time Warrick went out with Melissa--or Blue Devil as she'd been named--Caspian had raised his eyebrows as high as they would go and burst into laughter. Warrick had to glare at him to get him to stop.
They were at their meet up point on top of an old candy factory. There was still the faint scent of burnt sugar and the red and white candy cane striped smoke stacks were rimed with black soot. Warrick couldn't help feeling as though they'd stepped back in time. Back to when they were kids themselves, just starting out and so fucked up and confused that it ached to remember.
"Come on, you're going to give the kid a complex," Warrick said.
Caspian shook his head. "Dude, I thought you vowed to never be the guy that took some kid into a deadly situation?"
"Well, times change," Warrick said. "Besides, she's still got her training wheels on, so we'll try to keep her out of the more hardcore situations until she's ready for it."
"Is Vereint okay with this?" Caspian asked. "He's not worried about something happening to her?"
Warrick shifted his utility belt to stop it cutting into his stomach. "He's worried, of course he is, but he checked to make sure that she could do all the moves suggested by the League training manual."
"No one can say you're not thorough," Caspian said, "so I guess I'm not too worried if you're not." He still looked a little uneasy though, probably flashing back to all the trouble they'd gotten up to when they were young.
"Did you guys forget I was here?" Melissa asked plaintively. She had pulled the black head stocking on, but held her blue mask in her gloved hand.
Caspian gave her head a rough rub, his gloves squeaking across the smooth material of the head stocking. "Big people are talking." He laughed at her outraged expression and pulled his foot away from her retaliatory kick. "I'm just kidding with you, kid. Don't take life too seriously."
Melissa gave Warrick a look. "All that training we did is really in the League manual?" she asked.
"If you're going to be my sidekick you're going to be the best sidekick out there," Warrick said. He made a mental note to get her a copy of the manual. "Other heroes will be wishing theirs were even half as good as you."
Caspian gave him that "You're crazy" look he'd gotten so good at. "You don't think it's a little childish entering your sidekick in a Whose Sidekick Is Better Competition with a bunch of superheroes that don't even know they're competing?"
"Probably." Warrick shrugged. "But you better believe I won."
Caspian shook his head. "Your drive to win is completely ridiculous." He looked around. "How is this supposed to work?"
"What do you mean?" Warrick asked.
"Usually you carry me, but she doesn't fly." Caspian looked at Melissa. "Do you?"
Melissa shook her head, biting her lip.
"Don't worry so much," Warrick told her. "I'll carry you both in. It should be easy."
"It doesn't seem like a great long-term plan." Caspian ducked out of the way before Warrick could slap his head.
"It's not meant to be." Warrick glared at him. "I'll have some superscientist make us a mini-jet or something."
Melissa gave him a doubtful look. "Can you fly a plane?"
"No, but I'm willing to learn." He nudged her shoulder. It was hard having her question him. "Don't worry about it so much. We'll figure things out."
She was wound so tight that he wanted to tell her it was going to be fine, but he had a pretty good idea she would only believe it if she saw it for herself. She needed to get some experience under her belt before she could relax.
He gave her a soothing look. "You climb on my back and hold on. I'll carry Caspian old school style."
"What's that?" She cocked her head.
"He hates the bridal carry," Warrick said, "so I have to hold him under the arms like baggage."
"Hey, I'm right here, you know," Caspian said.
"Sh," Warrick touched his lips, "superhero and sidekick are communing." He gave him a shit-eating grin. "Payback, bitch."
"Ew. So you carry him by his pits?" Melissa shook her head. "What if he's all sweaty? Gross."
Warrick laughed. "Welcome to the glorious career of a superhero. Long hours, low pay, and a short life expectancy."
"And stinky pits," Caspian added with a grin.
Warrick knew they were being light-hearted about a serious business, but he figured Melissa would face the horrors of superheroing in due time. And when that happened, she would need all the good memories of the job she could get.
It was always the quiet moments when they could laugh and joke that Warrick thought of. Because no matter how bad things got, he knew Caspian was a great partner and would always be there for him.
He clapped his hands, forcing his mind back on track. "Come on, kids, we got stuff to do today."
"Super stuff," Caspian lisped.
When Melissa climbed up on his back, Warrick was reminded of how young she was. It was like holding a scrap of silk; she could blow away at any moment and he wouldn't even know she was gone until she screamed and hit the ground. It was a sobering thought.
"Make sure you hold on tight," he ordered.
"Yes, sir," she replied cheekily. He thought she might have thrown a salute at the back of his head.
Caspian gave him a grin and held his arms open as though for a hug. "I think she's going to fit right in."
"Thank you, I'm sure," Warrick said. "You just better know that any bad habits she picks up, I'm blaming on you when Vereint asks."
Other things happening:
- Shorts and Squares: Jagged Blade is dropping January 14, if all goes well.
- I am working on rewriting Visions of Blood & Shadow, Blood Wine, and Fantasy. They will be re-released with new covers and everything. Nice.
- Paradigm Shift is on schedule and will be released in February.
- I will be updating "Little Bit Strange, But Still Special," "Rolling In the Deep," "Faster Than the Speed of Love," "Off to See the Wizard," and "Honest Liar."
- The Panic Pure is being edited and will be available (hopefully) late February or early March.
- I have been working on feygan.com and have added a bunch of stories and will continue to add more.
Here, have another excerpt. This one is from the upcoming Faizel 02.
Sometimes Ewing wondered if they had invited a devil into their midst. Because there wasn't a doubt in his mind that Charlemagne was possessed.
And the devil was named Faizel. Charlemagne's darling love.
Ewing personally thought of Faizel as a booty call gone wrong, though he would never say it aloud. He valued his life too much.
Charlemagne wanted to keep Faizel secret, and Ewing was willing to go along with it. Because honestly, how could he even explain someone like Faizel? The guy scared the ever living fuck out of him, and that was no lie.
"Are you certain that this is the way you want to do things?" Deacon asked in her "I'm a completely hard as nails Law Officer" voice.
Ewing fought to keep still where he knelt on the hard wood floor along with the other low level vampires. It was pretty boring, but he wasn't one to battle the status quo. He didn't want to get tortured and killed.
Isadore had been summoned by Prince Lucian and they had all been forced to come with her and display her level of awesome to the rest of the Lords and Ladies. It was kind of a relief to look across the banquet hall and see the other retinues; some of those guys had it really rough.
Ewing didn't even want to think about what was up with the guy with the weird metal clamps on his face or the chick with the fish hooks through her nipples. All he had to do was wear old fashioned clothes and serve imaginary tea; that didn't seem so bad in comparison to what those other schlubs had to put up with.
Seeing that everyone was focused on the drama unfolding in the middle of the room, he risked stretching his back and cracking his neck before getting back to his frozen position. He even dared to lick his dry lips a minute later.
Back when he'd been human, he'd fantasized about what it was going to be like when he was Turned. He'd imagined lounging around wearing cool clothes. He'd imagined driving fancy cars and owning the city and everyone in it.
Instead, he dressed like a complete hose-bag and catered to a woman that made his testicles shrivel. She was hot, with long waves of inky black hair and eyes that seemed to have been permanently rimmed with heavy black kohl. She was also hardcore pathetic, though she expected them to do whatever she wanted.
He'd thought being a vampire would mean freedom. Instead he'd been forced into the life of some old lady's permanent bitch-boy. His place in the Hierarchy was so low he didn't even get to sit in a chair--he spent his time kneeling with his palms to the floor.
He wasn't jealous of Charlemagne's higher rank though. That guy was in a much worse position: He actually had to sleep with the old broad whenever she wanted. Isadore was sexy, but Ewing had no desire for her. Which was probably the reason why he was kneeling on the floor rather than standing behind her throne-chair all mannequin-faced like Charlemagne.
Stuff was getting loud and there were angry words being said. Law Officer Jenny Deacon was looking for some missing girl and she'd requested that Prince Lucian gather all the master vampires in the city so she could question them. She seemed to think the girl was in an Enclave somewhere and of course all the vampires knew which one because none of them could keep a secret.
Ewing had never realized Deacon was so arrogant. Storming the Prince's Citadel and demanding answers as though Lucian were a peasant She was lucky Prince Lucian had the hots for her, because Law Officer or not, he would have torn her apart if she were anyone else; Ewing had heard the stories. But she was so raw to the job that she probably thought she could take on a Prince.
Charlemagne thought she was an idiot, and Ewing couldn't help agreeing.
Ewing risked a peek, and there that expression was on Charlemagne's face. He had to muffle a snort.
Most people would probably have thought Charlemagne's face was blank, but Ewing knew the guy better. There was an extra bit of arch to Charlemagne's brows and a barely smoldering flame in the back of his eyes. He was holding back a sneer through sheer force of will.
Charlemagne played his role perfectly, but Ewing knew how much he hated to have his time wasted. He had to put up with it from Isadore, but Deacon was only human. Charlemagne would never be indecorous enough to step out of line in public, but Ewing could tell he wanted to.
From the minute he Woke for the first time as a lesser vampire, Ewing had known the best he could hope for was being a master's lackey. His place in the Hierarchy had been set by his biology and there was nothing he could do about that. Charlemagne, though, he was one of the lucky ones. He was of the master class and Ewing had never seen him hit his limit. He was strong enough that Ewing wondered why he took orders from some masters that were obviously inferior. Yet Charlemagne would just bow his head and do as he was told.
It was weird.
There was a sudden loud crash and a load of screeching and Ewing found himself caught up in what was taking place in front of him. The boring posturing was over and it was time for some action. He was reluctantly entertained.