We hope you had a great week and a happy holiday if you celebrated Thanksgiving. We celebrated Thanksgiving with the Scribe in true character fashion by doing writing sprints! 🙂
What’s a word sprint?
That’s where we set a time and the Scribe has to write until the time is up. I know. It’s more exciting for us, characters. than anything else. We get more words about us! But you get the book faster too because every word our Scribe writes is one word closer to the final one in the book.
We did let the Scribe out to visit her parents for some good old Italian sausage stuffing and apple pie. See? We’re not tyrants.
But a funny thing happened. The Newsletter-Dragon, who handles all our digital needs, uploaded the new covers for the Robin of Larskur series and set the first one (Hunter’s Night) to 99 cents, but it didn’t show up on Thursday. It’s 99 cents now for everyone, everywhere (or the local equivalent). The sequels are coming in 2022.
And now, an update on Curse Breaker Trapped! The story will be tightly focused on your favorite characters as we grapple with a problem we’ve been ignoring for 6 books.
But we can’t ignore it anymore. The end of His Angelic Keeper Tempted drove that home for us, and that’s what we’ll be searching for in Curse Breaker Trapped, a home of our own.
It might take all the magic we possess to find it and more than a few battles with the people who stand in our way. But I’m getting ahead of myself. This is Ran, Sarn’s son, and I’m supposed to talk about another book since we’re continuing our special presentation with another installment of:
by Melinda Kucsera
“Oof.” Sovvan passed through the piles of papers on a large desk without disturbing them. But she couldn’t say the same for the short man sitting in the chair facing her. His bushy eyebrows climbed up his forehead as he stared, open-mouthed, at her. He looked quite disturbed by her unconventional entrance, and she didn’t blame him.
He had dark, frizzy hair that stood on end, hopefully not from shock. She didn’t want to give the poor guy a heart attack. The dark circles under his probing eyes gave his hard, angular face a vulpine cast. Maybe he should get some sleep instead of staying up late to do paperwork.
The man shoved his chair back as Sovvan’s head passed through his desk, giving her an eye full of its contents. Oh my. This guy had some interesting things in his drawers: glowing stones shaped like dragons, dragon-shaped daggers, spiky metal dragons for throwing, as well as other bits and bobs she couldn’t even begin to identify.
This fellow had a serious dragon fixation. Dragon statues surrounded his desk. They stared at her with glowing crystal eyes as Sovvan landed on a leather footrest and became corporeal again. Of course, the footrest was dragon-shaped and the throne this guy sat on too. Who was this man? The lord of the dragons? A pagan priest who worshipped a dragon god? Did dragons even have gods?
Sovvan put those questions aside as she swept her dark hair out of her eyes. She took a moment to braid it again. There wasn’t anything she could do about her borrowed robes. They were white before her trip to Hell, but now they were soot-stained in places, and there was a rent in the bodice. At least the violet trim at the hem and edges of the sleeves was still intact. She’d even managed to dry out during her fall.
But she doubted she could pass for an angel as tattered as she was. That was probably a good thing since she wasn’t an angel, just some kind of weird hybrid, and he was staring right at her. Holy smokes, she was visible.
“You can see me?” Sovvan grabbed his hands and squeezed them.
He just stared at her, aghast, as if she committed some terrible faux pas. Uh-oh. Had she just escaped one set of troubles only to land hip-deep in another?
The Search for Mom
“What about Mom? What happened to her? Can you use your magic to check on her or prophesy or whatever it is that you do?” Faylon elbowed Fedre when he sat beside her.
She looked better than he did. There wasn’t a mark on her or the tunic and trousers that had replaced her impractical robe. When had she found time for a wardrobe change and where had she gotten those clothes from? Faylon hadn’t been wearing them when they’d left home. Even her black hair looked freshly combed and braided. That must be an illusion. Faylon must have lied about being able to cast them on herself because there was no way she could look that good after all the fighting and running and the imploding magical gateway thing.
“What are you staring at?” Faylon touched her dark blue tunic. It clashed with her swirling red-glowing eyes, and that was probably why she’d chosen it.
“You. Your clothes aren’t soot-stained like mine. Nor are there any rips. There’s no sawdust in your hair either. You don’t look like you’ve been to Hell and back. Where did you even get those clothes from? You didn’t bring any supplies when we left home.” Fedre scooted away from her in case she was playing another trick on him.
“Oh, this?” Faylon waved a hand to encompass her spotless clothes. “I’m a shifter, you fool. I can change my shape and my clothes to suit my needs. Besides, I didn’t like wandering around with sawdust in my hair and holes in my robe. I have standards you know.” She folded her arms and turned away from him.
“Can you fix my clothes? Because I’m a hot mess.” Fedre shook the sawdust from his hair, but the wind just blew it in his face.
“Sure. Let me put my claws on.” Faylon’s hand elongated, and red claws extended from her fingers.
“That’s okay. I’ll live with the dust. It’ll come out, anyway. You can put those away now.” Fedre moved to the other end of the fallen Memory Tree.
“It’s your loss.” Faylon let her claws sink back into her fingers, and she flexed them just to creep him out. Sisters, they were impossible sometimes. “Can you look for Mom, or did the whole gateway takedown thing knock something loose in your head?”
“Very funny.” But it was a good question. Could he check the future for their mother? Fedre rubbed his chest to ease a sudden ache there as he called up a flame on his palm, just like his mother would have done if she were here. I should have stayed in Hell to help her.
She hadn’t given him a choice, and there was no point regretting that now. Mom had made her choice.
Get His Angelic Keeper Fallen today to continue this fun adventure. We’ll be back with more on Monday. Until then, stay safe.
–Sincerely, Ran, son of Sarn, and the Scribe, Melinda K.
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