Se muestran los artículos pertenecientes a Junio de 2007.
Just finished the edits for ErRatic!
I'm so pleased! This is my birthday week, and the edit for ErRatic came through. It was like a birthday present to myself to get it finished.
What a wonderful week! Everyone has outdone themselves with gifts and coffee outings, and invitations to dinner - and that's not all! There have been Happy Birthday emails from around the world. I feel so very happy!
I have all my books out to publishers, and am awaiting decisions on the last 6. "No" isn't a bad thing, because I have other publishers keen to get the work, so it's just a matter of time and timing. I don't want to assume a negative, and send the book off elsewhere then hear I've disappointed an editor. Bad form!
Three essays left to go over the next week. I have to get over birthday and get back to working on Uni stuff. I'm just still in celebration and book completion mode. I'm not even working on #29 and #30 right now!
I'll leave you with a bit of Gilded Folly. It's coming out in paperback soon, so watch for it on Amazon!
Cheers,
ND (http://www.NDHansen-Hill.com) | Melody (http://MelodyKnight.com)
Rom crawled through the daisies, burying his face in the turgid branches. He snatched at flowers with mosquito-bitten hands, crunching the heads and rubbing them over his swollen face. The pastel masses of blooms were crushed and flattened, leaving streaked and bloodied blossoms in his wake.
His breaths were panting rasps, ragged and uneven. His chest was filling, his throat was closing, and he couldn’t breathe. Using his elbows and his knees, he squirmed his way along.
The water. If he could just get to the water. He could see it now through squinted eyes—a black wash in the foreground. Gritting his teeth, he lifted his head, and peered at the moon reflected on the surface. The castaway radiance beckoned him forward, and he crawled, his breaths coming in whiny wheezes.
Mosquitoes danced into his vision, feathering his eyelids, tickling his eyebrows, darting in stinging raids to feed on his scalp. In such proximity, it was difficult to put them into perspective. They were garish monsters come to steal his life force away. Dancing devils, gossamer harbingers of death...
He had a defence, but only if he lived long enough to use it. Only if he could reach the reflected moon. It had always been his trigger...before.
Stay the impulse. The warning sang loudly in his ears. It will bring them in. You will no longer be able to hide in your dreams.
Surely, it was too late to hide. What was happening to him tonight had forced him to emerge from the shadows.
Shivering incessantly, Rom pushed himself to his feet. Gagging and choking, he lurched forward, nearly falling on his face. In a stumbling near-run, he took five long, loping strides and leapt, soaring across the dark, watery surface of the pond.
At the same moment he stretched out his hand, aiming desperately for that bright white globe of reflected light.
His fingertips touched, then pierced the surface.
The pseudo moon shattered, into a thousand dancing pieces.
At Cerridwen Press (http://www.cerridwenpress.com/productpage.asp?ISBN=1-4199-0409-4)
.