- I will be at the Indie Girl Conference in Charleston, SC at the end of February. If you are in the area, please come by to see me and tons of other fantastic authors.
- Tonight I am participating in a chat about Ember (book 1 of the Jinn Trilogy) in my book club on Facebook. Please feel free to join! https://www.facebook.com/groups/365135506943168/
- Currently there is a contest running to select Selene’s wedding dress for the book Tiddly Jinx and have a character named after you. http://eepurl.com/Lsuvb
That’s all I have right now. I will post my conference/appearance schedule soon. I leave you with a story I started writing years ago, but somehow doubt I will ever finish in novel form. So, rather than letting a perfectly good idea go to waste, I will start telling it in blog form. I will try to post an installment once a month. Please leave comments to let me know what you think.
The Abnormal Life of Mortimer Lee
Mortimer Lee died for the first time on May 6th 1941. He was thirty one years, one hundred and eighty three days, four hours and six minutes old. Mortimer often reflected on the year he first died and was then subsequently born again into a life of abnormality. No one was more surprised than he was when he opened his eyes for the first time to found himself in a mortuary... except maybe the mortician, he passed out. Mortimer couldn't remember anything that had happened after being hit by the trolley car while on vacation.
Mortimer, having always had a sharp mind and above average intelligence, assessed the situation. He quickly exited the small, cold, windowless room certain that no good could come from staying here until the small man with glasses woke up. As Mortimer made his way out of the maze of hallways he caught sight of his reflection in a glass case. Mortimer stared at himself amazed that he could look so bad and still be moving around. His hair was plastered to his forehead with blood, a trail of dried blood was on both ears and nostrils, and his suit was torn and dirty. While brushing off his suit and trying to remove some of the blood with a handkerchief Mortimer noticed that his left leg was completely sideways from the knee down.
Mortimer was surprised that this did not bother him more. He should be in pain, conceptually he knew that, but the pain was not there. In fact Mortimer didn’t feel much besides annoying stabs of hunger. He reached down and snapped his knee back into the proper position with a crack, but no pain. Shrugging, Mortimer continued towards the door. He found an open office along the way. In an effort to make less of a spectacle of himself on the street Mortimer picked up a hat and coat that were on an oak rack just inside an office door.
Mortimer shuffled his way back to his hotel with his head down. He still could not fathom what had happened to him or why he wasn’t at the hospital. Numbness seemed to have taken hold and had not relinquished its vice like grip as it seeped into his brain, clouding his thoughts until all he could think about was the tremendous hunger growing by leaps and bounds. Fluky’s, known for their hotdogs, was on Mortimer’s way back to his hotel. The smell of meat made his mouth water and tunnel vision set in. He limped to the window, stomach howling with nearly ravenous hunger.
“A hotdog with everything would do the trick” Mortimer thought to himself. He got his lunch and took a large bite with greedy voraciousness.
The food in his mouth however tasted mushy and grainy. He couldn’t force himself to swallow the hotdog that tasted like sludge in mouth. Mortimer made a dash for the alley before spitting out the hot dog and dry heaving. His body lurched and the hunger screamed in his mind. While he was bent next to the dumpster Mortimer smelled something mouth wateringly delicious. Something he couldn’t quite recognize, but was definitely meat. It was similar to what he encountered earlier, but more pronounced this time. He followed his nose, the hunger t blinding him to all else. Mortimer’s hand shot behind several crates with the accuracy of a cobra and a mind of its own. He looked at the squeaking and snarling rat it had seized from the alley and before he could stop himself he took a large bite right out of the side. He chewed the sinewy, tasty meat at last feeling relief. Warm blood trickled down his mouth and throat as Mortimer’s mind became more at peace. When he finished the last delicious morsel, he looked at his hands covered in rat blood and willed himself to be disgusted instead out wanting to lick his fingers clean.
He wiped his bloodied hand on his already ruined suit then fastened his stolen trench coat and adjusted his fedora to a Bogart-type angle before resuming his journey to the hotel. Making it to the hotel without thinking about the incident in the alley was easier than Mortimer would have anticipated. The rat was pushed from his thought by throngs of people moving past him on the streets. He heard their heartbeats echoing in his head, the rush of the blood in their veins made his mouth water, and the delicious siren’s smell of meat, glorious meat, filled his mind. All he wanted was a taste. Just a nibble here or there, was that so unreasonable?