Today is my brother’s birthday. He passed on five years ago, but I still acknowledge the date for a few moments during the day.
As I write this, our household is recovering from the Birthaversary party. We did, indeed, have a party and it was a very lively one, too! I don’t drink alcohol, but even I woke up feeling like I had a hangover – I guess sleep deprivation and dehydration will do that to you, despite the lack of alcohol. But it was a fun, fun night….
Working notes: Current manuscript….ready for this? White Dawn, book #4 in The Vistaria Affair series. If you like Latin men, military heroes, war and revolution storylines, and hot, frank sex then you’ll like this series.
It’s set in the fictional country of Vistaria, a small island nation that lies off the coast of Mexico. Vistaria is full of proud, honorable and hot army men (it’s ruled by a military junta), until a revolution sweeps through the country. The heroes and heroines of the series are all Loyalists, working with the tattered remains of the army to win back their country….or their men’s country, for most of the heroines are America, caught up in the war because of love.
I’ve written about the first third (maybe less – I can never write short!), and already, the book is starting to take off and write itself. I love it when I reach that point in a story. I completely lose track of time when I’m writing. I’m in “flow” just like Mihály Csíkszentmihályi wrote about.
Yesterday, for instance, I had a day off from the day job, and sat from 7.30 in the morning, until 4pm when Mark came home. I wrote 44 pages and I was shocked when Mark walked in the door. I honestly thought it was around noon.
Here’s a flash excerpt for you, to salt your anticipation:
An Excerpt From: WHITE DAWN
Copyright © TRACY COOPER-POSEY, 2015
All Rights Reserved.
“Where did you get that?” Carmen asked curiously, for the camp had been dry ever since she had arrived. Not because Garrett wanted everyone sober, but because alcohol of any sort was impossible to obtain.
The label on the bottle in Garrett’s hands was a familiar one. Carmen hadn’t seen it since before she had left for college, though. It was Vistarian Mescal. “Did Hernandez slip you the bottle?” she asked.
“Go back to your skinny lover,” Garrett told her. “Leave me alone.”
He might not be drunk enough to suit his tastes, but he was still very drunk. His speech wasn’t slurring, though. Garrett’s super-human discipline apparently didn’t take a breather even when he was blasted.
Carmen sighed. “I need you to dig in and focus for a moment,” she said sharply. “We need to send someone to the rendezvous point. They need to observe it until we get there for the meeting and make sure it isn’t an Insurrecto trap. It’s nearly a day away from here anyway, but twelve hours observation should minimize the risk.”
Garrett smiled, and his teeth were very white in the m
oonlight, contrasting with the darkness over his face. “Ms. Fix it,” he said.
“Garrett, snap out of it,” she said.
“Why?” he asked, his tone reasonable.
“Because I can’t talk to you when you’re like this.”
“Don’t want to talk to you anyway,” he muttered.
“The feeling’s mutual,” Carmen shot back. “You’re always talking about the chain of command, Garrett. I have to talk to you and you have to give the order. So save me from having to spend any more time listening to your self-pity. Straighten up for thirty seconds, and I’m out of here.”
I found this picture on the left, on the Internet – it’s a perfect likeness of Garrett; blond, scarred, scruffy and with a really really big chip on his shoulder. Isn’t he just…mmm?
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