In order to avoid completely cluttering up this community, I'll add writing updates in comments below this post.
You can basically follow me building my books, struggling with my characters and putting them through hardship.
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Not sure what happened to the day.
I ended up writing about 500 words for a prequel for a new vampire series Writer Brain keeps pushing at me. I hope I can keep it to a short novella. Title is "Penumbra". Yes, it makes sense.
I read a comfort book or two, played Spider Solitaire, cooked food (need to improve my sauce-fu) and kind of lost myself.
Let me share the beginning of "Penumbra". (My character kept surprising me, such fun!):
It was raining.
Of course, it was raining. This was bloody New York, after all, and at this time of the year, it was just as likely to snow as it was to rain.
Leander flipped up the collar of his coat for a little more protection before stepping out from under the eaves and onto the sidewalk. He walked fast, with the stride of a man who knew exactly where he was going and why.
In truth, he was just trying to put distance between himself and the body. Discovering it had been a little shock, but he’d grabbed what he had been sent to find and hurried to get away, leaving no trace of his presence.
Leander kept walking, keeping his stride, slipping out of the neighborhood, making sure to shake any tail, ignoring the rain. Something had not been right, something was bothering him, and it wasn’t the body.
It certainly wasn’t the first one he had seen, and more than likely also wasn’t the last. At least this time, there hadn’t been much blood. It was always easier without the blood. Something about that always made his stomach queasy. Not that he would admit that to anyone. He was a damn P.I., and he was good at what he did. Nobody needed to know about his reaction to blood.