Yes, I've been neglecting this blog. Sorry about that. It's because I've been stressed over a freelance assignment and writing another novel (a fourth in the Adept Series), and trying to sell a car and dieting. So I've been just a wee bit stressed.
To reward your patience, here's a first-draftish sample from my new novel (which is as of yet untitled):
The door to my room burst open with a loud crack of shattering wood. I sat up to see the blonde woman, Ariel, step in, holding what looked like a small metal box with a handle and a barrel. I knew exactly what it was. Amazingly, I also noticed she was wearing off-white pants and a burgundy blouse that looked silk. Anyone could easily mistake her for a trophy wife except for the very deadly weapon in her delicate hands.
She opened fire, the incredibly rapid gunshots strobe-lighting her grimacing face as the sound crashed through the air.
I knew if I stayed in that room I would die. Don's room was next door but by the time he got here, she would kill me with that submachine gun. I rolled off the bed away from her, smacking my butt on the window. I hoped the mattress would afford me some protection.
The gun stopped firing and I assumed she was walking forward to get a clear shot at me. There was no escape. I didn't dare teleport out of the room for fear of materializing in another object. That would be both deadly and spectacular as two objects tried to occupy the same space. I could teleport outdoors but then I'd fall 22 floors to my death. If only I could teleport with a blanket, I thought ruefully. I could use it as a flying carpet.
I could put up a protection spell but unlike her, I couldn't move with it up and eventually she'd wear it down.
Then I noticed the window was cracking. She'd hit it a few times in the fusillade of bullets she'd fired at me.
I heard three gunshots, deeper but more distant. The machinegun's staccato voice range out again, but seemed to be pointed away from me. I looked over the bed in time to see her shooting at Don in the hallway, his large black pistol in his hands pointed at her.
I decided to try and tackle her even though that didn't work in San Francisco when she attacked Vaughan. It was the only thing I could think of.
I stood up and jumped on the bed just as Don crumpled to the floor, red stains growing on his white shirt. Ariel turned with alarming swiftness and, seeing me, shot at me. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. I saw the muzzle flash of her weapon and the smoke coming from its barrel, the shell casings being ejected in a rain of brass to land on the carpet. I felt the bullets enter my body in my torso and the pain was incredible. I fell backward off the bed and against the already weakened window. It shattered and I started to fall out. I grabbed at the curtains, the only thing I could reach, and for a long moment I hung over the abyss below me, my feet dangling in the air.
Then the curtains pulled off the rod and I fell.
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