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erastesI love fruit pastilles and fruit gums My favourite game (please remember I don’t have a life, so my measure of “fun” does not equate with yours) with eating these is to guess the flavour without looking at them. Now they’ve made them with SHAPES so my fingers tell me the flavour before I even put them in my gob. bah. spoilsports.
I was in a restaurant today and someone ELSE had exactly the same ring tone. Harumph.
Better day with Dad today, thank goodness. I need to focus on the GOOD days. He had no memory of the day before, of course, and so I was able to do the thing that he refused point blank to let me do, and he had no problem with it at all! *headdesk*
Two days “off” now – and I’m aiming to do at least 500 words per day, so I can push the weekly count up to 5000k. total word count is 34,000, so roll on 40,000.
AUTUMN WATCH TONIGHT! YAYNESS!
Would you like an excerpt of Mere Mortals? Why not!? To be published by Lethe Press in Spring 2011.
Crispin Thorne has been made a ward of Philip Smallwood, a man he's never met, and is transported from his school to Bittern's Reach--a house on an island on the remote Norfolk Broads. When he arrives, he finds that he's not alone, Smallwood has taken on two other orphans, Myles and Jude. This scene takes place the morning after he arrives.
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My new companions were already seated, but were not yet eating; Witheridge placed the tray on the sideboard then left us alone, for which I was glad, for I was not yet used to servants there for every little whim, and I wondered whether I ever would be. Myles stood up as I neared the table and I followed him over to the sideboard where he pulled the covers off the many dishes there, revealing such an amount of food that my mouth began to water immediately. After years of schoolboy breakfasts, nourishing but dull and repetitive, this repast of kidneys, bacon, kedgeree, eggs of more types than I had names for and assorted breads stunned me with its opulence.
"Tuck in," Myles ordered, and I have to say that I did, following his suit and loading my dish up in a similar manner to his. Jude remained with his hot chocolate and toast while we two ate, his thoughts obviously elsewhere. Sitting opposite to Myles I concentrated on him, as I had seen little of him the day before.
"Is there anyone else expected? Do you know?"
He stopped chewing for a moment, and waved his fork at me. "No. Just us three. Witheridge told me of both of your arrivals, on the day I got here. I'm certain he would have made it clear if there was to be another. Why do you ask?"
I hadn't really asked for any more reason than to make conversation, but a reason clicked into my head to save me. "Well, there are four bedrooms in the entrance tower; it seemed likely."
"He has a point," Jude said, "and more of an enquiring mind than we gave him credit for." It was obvious then that they had been discussing me since my arrival. "But no, the fourth room is locked fast."
"Just us lucky three," Myles added. "This lucky breed, set in a silver sea—"
"Please," Jude interrupted, wincing, "if you are going to quote, don't mangle."
"So," Myles said, wiping his mouth with his napkin. "Tell us a little about yourself, although I think I could guess most of it."
"There's nothing much to tell of, or guess of," I said, uncomfortable with the avid attention of them both.
"Oh do let him try," Jude said. "He did the same for me, really—it's quite uncanny how much he can guess without being told. Really uncanny."
I looked between them both, a little nervously. I didn't want Myles to guess correctly. "No, I'm happy to tell you."
"I think I can guess, though," Myles said. Jude was leaning close to him, and both of them were staring at me. It was rather disconcerting. He continued before I had a chance to speak. "You're an orphan; you spent your life at school—not a first class establishment—definitely not Eton or Westminster, but somewhere deep in the country and well-thought of. Am I right?"
I nodded but was unimpressed by his so-called guessing. I had admitted most of this to them already.
"Your schooling was paid for, but not extravagantly—you didn't have fencing lessons or own a horse—but your clothes, books, everything you needed was provided for, even a little pocket money from time to time."
"You are close to the mark," I admitted. I hadn't ever had any pocket money. I couldn't imagine what it would be like to go into any shop I wanted and buy anything.
Myles leaned forward and looked to be studying closely, as if he were actually pulling my thoughts from my head. Nonsense and a show of some sort, no doubt, but he made a good job of it. "You were never told who your benefactor was, even though you asked…" He paused and looked deep into my eyes, his mouth quirked a little at one corner. "You had one good friend at school. Someone you cared for a great deal. A boy who took you under his wing, felt a little sorry for you."
"Hey," Jude said, "that's a bit—"
One very very good friend…" Myles continued as if Jude hadn't spoken. "You studied together. Perhaps you even had a study together in your final year? Yes, you did. You visited his family…more than once…and they appeared to like you a great deal." His fingers drummed slowly on the tablecloth. "You were very close."
I felt my mouth drying. Guesswork, surely. He couldn't know. Or was this all some kind of trick? Perhaps the headmaster had told Smallwood and Myles got the story from him. No. I couldn't believe that, although I didn't really know what to believe.
"You were inseparable. Games, study, vacs. Others noticed your friendship. Perhaps they were jealous. Perhaps others said you two were…unnaturally close. Were you unnaturally close, Crispin? Or was it just nasty suspicious rumour?"
I went cold. I could feel the colour draining from my face, and I pushed my chair away from the table. I knew that to react to what was possibly no more than the worst kind of teasing was to give myself away, but I thought this too late, after I'd reacted. How did he, could he know?
"Myles, stop it," Jude admonished, taking hold of Myles' arm. "It was different—" His face was anxious and drawn, looking from me back to Myles.
"I think he needs to know," Myles continued, mercilessly. And then the rumours got too much, didn't they? You were questioned, perhaps? Or you were watched. Perhaps the prefects? Blackmail?"
"I don't know what you are talking about," I muttered. "You filthy—" I stood up then, undecided whether to fly at him, fists at the ready or to just get out of there.
"Then finally you were called into the Head's office—or perhaps you were caught…What were you doing, Crispin?"
Jude was standing now, "Myles, that's enough," he looked genuinely concerned; he attempted to pull Myles to his feet but still he sat there, his eyes fixed on mine."
"You'll shut up if you know what's good for you," I growled. There was no good running out, I need to face this down, find out how much he knew, and how. What was going on here?
"What were you doing? Was it just an innocent kiss, languid and slow, shared over studybooks, or was it worse?" He exchanged a look with Jude, whose face seemed as white as my own.
"You bastard, Myles," he muttered.
"Were you in a state of disarray? Hands caught places they shouldn't be? Hidden away in a dark corner, a cupboard, an empty schoolroom…"
"I said shut up!" I yelled. My temper snapped in fear and I strode around the table and picked Myles up by his collar. "You're no gentleman—You hardly know me…you know nothing…"
"Enough, it seems," he murmured, slack in my grip. "Enough..."
"Enough!" A commanding voice cut through the air, a voice of such vigour and authority that we three—schoolboys that we were—obeyed instantly. I dropped Myles and we all stood almost to attention, spinning round to face the source of the voice. "What the devil is going on?" In the open doorway--with Witheridge standing impassively behind him--was the original of the portrait, our guardian Philip Smallwood, his face suffused with anger.
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no subject
Date: 2010-10-07 06:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-07 06:26 pm (UTC)NOW i spot the typos...*head desk*
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Date: 2010-10-07 06:28 pm (UTC)Any idea if it'll be available in the US or in electronic format?
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Date: 2010-10-07 06:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-07 06:32 pm (UTC)Yes, Lethe are a US company, and all their books are in ebook and print, as far as I know.
http://www.lethepressbooks.com/
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Date: 2010-10-07 06:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-07 06:35 pm (UTC)I can send you a list of them if you like - and as for the sex - it can be as graphic as you like, or closed door and sweet and everything in between. Some publishers such as Phaze (I think) prefer the hotter ones, but most accept all levels.
I can certainly give you help if you need it, don't hesitate to ask. I wish there'd been someone to guide me when I started, as I made some very silly mistakes.
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Date: 2010-10-07 06:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-07 06:48 pm (UTC)Excellent stuff.
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Date: 2010-10-07 06:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-07 09:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-08 01:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-08 09:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-08 10:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-08 10:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-09 01:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-09 01:25 pm (UTC)