You know how I said I would write to push past my writer’s block, even it was crap? Well, seems the universe took it as a sign to screw with me. Later that day, my throat started hurting. Night time sucked because I couldn’t sleep. And then I woke up Wednesday morning and wish I hadn’t… my sinuses were trying to kill me! I could barely swallow and wanted to cry each time I did. My nose was stuffed up and running constantly. Walking almost destroyed me since I couldn’t catch my breath.
On Friday I went to the doctor’s although I was feeling a little better at that time. He said there wasn’t any sign of infection. Hey, guess what? Turns out, I had strep throat. Yay me! Today, I’m feeling pretty damn good. *Don’t hate on me, Universe!* This past week I wrote several thousand words, and even fixed some timeline issues.
Here’s a little snippet from the first chapter of Chained in Desire, Victor’s story. Please keep in mind, it’s unedited.
His footsteps echoed in the empty hallway. A lesser man might have found it creepy, deep in the bowels of the earth, no one else around except for one hiding, slightly cranky mage. Victor grinned, enjoying the run-away-in-fear atmosphere.
Crossing the receptionist’s room which boasted dust, cobwebs, and more dust, he opened the plain wooden door and entered the vast library. Shelves upon shelves of books dominated the room, overwhelming anyone unfamiliar with the area. Victor, however, had been here numerous times, mainly to irritate the caretaker.
Directly in front of him were three couches, two faced each other and one faced the main door. A large rectangular table squatted in the middle, littered with magazines, newspapers, and other odd bits of paper. Tidiness wasn’t this mage’s strong suit.
“Yo, Keep, what’s happening, my main man?” he yelled into the seemingly deserted room, and his voice echoed back.
Keeper was here, somewhere. The mage rarely went far during the day, always on hand for the Coterie and anyone else who needed him. His official title was Keeper of All Knowledge, and everyone called him Keeper for short. His real name though, who knew? Victor wasn’t privy to it.
“What do you want?” Keeper grumbled, his aggravated voice floating from behind one of the bookshelves to Victor’s left.
Glancing around, he tried to spot the other mage’s hiding place. Shadows flickered and moved until finally Keeper came into view, a grimace marring his face. Victor grinned widely.
“Hey, Keep, long time no see,” he said.
“What do you want, Enforcer?” Keeper snapped without any heat. They’d played this game too many times. He purposefully bumped Victor’s shoulder on his way past, and sneered when he dropped onto the brown leather couch. “And stop calling me Keep.”
Laughter finally burst from Victor. He loved harassing the old man, although “old” wasn’t a person’s first thought when they met Keeper. Looks alone put him in the late thirties realm. A few threads of silver in his reddish brown hair added to his air of refinement and was the single hint of age. No wrinkles or no thinning hair. Nearing the millennium mark and he could pass for a barely middle-aged businessman.
“Oh please, you love it when I visit. It’s the only excitement you get, buried here amongst these dusty books. Everyone else stays away from here for a reason. It’s boring! Plus, I brighten up this dreary place with my handsome face,” Victor said, wondering how long before Keeper banned him from the archives. It happened each time he visited. Ah, damn it, he didn’t have the time to torment Keeper. He needed the other mage’s help. “Actually, let’s forget I said anything other than ‘Hello, how are you?’ so we can continue with the reason why I’m here. Sadly, I don’t have the time to annoy you today.”
Keeper’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. One of the mainstays of their long relationship was irritating each other. And after two hundred years, Victor knew how to set off the usually unflappable mage.
Victor sank into the couch on the right, and ran his fingers through his mussed hair. Maintaining his looks wasn’t a priority, and most days he barely gave a thought to his clothes or hair. Cleanliness, not style, was important to him.
Clutching at his chest, Keeper wheezed, “I think… my heart… so shocked!”
“You’re such a drama king,” Victor sighed, ignoring that he hammed it up as much as the other man. “I need information, if possible. Probably easier if you’re not annoyed at me.”