Wednesday, July 30, 2014

Editing Never Stops (and this one is for my upset fanfic readers)

You'd think that once you say you're done editing your work, you're actually done editing your work...right? 

Right.

WRONG.

Yes, I publish original work, but I was a fan fiction writer first. I've been on FF.Net ever since mom first got me a computer and a dial up internet connection (showing my age, yes) and I've been addicted to it ever since. I grew up as a writer on that website. When I learned about the Kindle Worlds program I actually full on sobbed like a big baby because I never thought there would be a chance for me to put my work out to have people actually read it outside of the normal fan fiction audience (mostly teenagers-but that doesn't mean I don't love every single person who has reviewed one of my stories through the years). I'm a little blessed in that some of them love my work so much that they want to know when I publish other things.

We will NOT even go into what I feel is the mess of one of my other novels. My goodness. I wrote it when I was 14 and finished when I was 19. That thing just... No idea how much I just wish I could bring myself to delete it!

So...right now, I'm going through my All This Time document, fixing a few things here and there. I got an email today from them asking me to fix a couple typos. When I had another co-writer, and when we poured over that thing like maniacs. 

Blarg.

But, on a funnier note, I have a blog now, so I'm going to share the original All This Time April Fool's joke we played on our readers. I still die laughing every time I see it. This is a scene that didn't make the final cut of the story because it was just a joke. Oh, and I'm planning to finish Petrova Blood during NaNoWriMo, and subsequently release that story on Kindle Worlds sometime in 2015. I'm also finishing No Exit and Better Halves and will probably work on them between finishing out the rest of my Cheap series.

(This is a fun, easy day for me...I'll post something more serious later this week, haha!)


            A week after Stefan’s birthday, Elena found Katherine walking in the hedge maze by herself. Things between Katherine and Stefan had been improving lately, so Elena was surprised to find her wandering out there on her own.
            “What are you doing out here?” she asked cautiously.
            “Nothing,” said Katherine. She heaved a sigh and turned to face Elena. “There’s something I have to tell you.”
            Elena frowned. “What is it?” she said.
            “I could be wrong,” said Katherine. “I mean, it’s been so long since the last time, and it shouldn’t even be possible.”
            “What are you talking about?”
            “How am I going to tell Stefan?”
            “Tell Stefan what?” said Elena. She was starting to feel frustrated now.
            “I’m pregnant,” she said.
            Elena’s jaw dropped. “What?!”
            Katherine made frantic flapping gestures with her hands to quiet Elena and looked around wildly to make sure no one heard.
            “But this doesn’t happen!” said Elena, still making very little effort to lower her voice. “Vampires can’t have kids! Stefan never had kids!”
            Katherine’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Stefan isn’t the father,” she said.
            “What? Who is?” said Elena. Before Katherine could answer, anger flared up in her. “Damon?!”
            “No, no!” said Katherine. “Of course not. It’s…it’s Giuseppe.”
            “This can’t be real,” said Elena flatly, turning her back on Katherine and walking away, keen to put some distance between herself and this madness.
            “It is real, Elena,” Katherine insisted, following close on her heels. “I love him! And I don’t see why you’re so surprised. He is closer to my age, and he’s just as handsome as either of his sons.”
            Elena stopped in her tracks and looked around. “Then does that mean you won’t be with Stefan?”
            Katherine wrinkled her nose. “Of course not,” she said. “He’s far too young for me.”
            “Then what were you doing with him all this time?” said Elena in exasperation.
            “Well, I have to get to know my intended’s favorite son, don’t I?” said Katherine in a tone that suggested that she thought Elena was being extremely dim.
            Ignoring the baffling implication that Katherine and Giuseppe were engaged, Elena stayed on topic. “Then Stefan is fair game?” she said tentatively.
            It was Katherine’s turn to look surprised. “But what about Damon?”
            “What about him?” said Elena. “I’ve only been with him because I thought you’d take my head off if I tried to be with Stefan.”
            By now, they had reached the back door of the house, where they found Damon standing on the other side. He had obviously been listening to the last bit of their conversation, for he looked very troubled. “Is that how you really feel, Elena?” he asked.
            “It—it is,” Elena stammered.
            Damon sighed. “I understand,” he said. “Do whatever makes you happy.”
            “What about you?” said Elena. She couldn’t help feeling a little sorry for him. He had been so sweet to her, after all.
            “Oh, don’t worry about me,” said Damon. He reached down and scooped up something at his feet, which turned out to be a white rabbit with a tuft of gray fur between its ears. “It’ll just be me and Flopsy. Two very handsome bachelors. We’ll take Mystic Falls by storm.” He looked at the rabbit. “Isn’t that right, Flopsy?” he added in a cooing baby voice, nuzzling his nose against Flopsy’s.
            “I hope you have fun,” said Elena, and Katherine added her own well wishes.
            “Thank you, ladies,” he said, and strolled off through the open doors with a purposeful stride.


            Elena sat bolt upright in her bed, Damon’s arm falling limply from its spot around her waist. Her heart pounded in double time and her breathing was far more erratic than it ever needed to be in a being who didn’t require oxygen to survive. Bits of the extremely disturbing conversation replayed in her mind over and over, making less and less sense every second. “What the hell?” she asked Damon’s bedroom, which offered her no suitable explanation.

            Damon muttered something indistinct in his sleep next to her, but didn’t wake up. Slowly, her pulse and breathing eased, and she resumed her previous position snuggled up next to him, pulling his arm back into place and weaving her fingers through his. “I miss the sire bond dreams,” she muttered vaguely before sleep reclaimed her.

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