Monthly Archives: December 2017

December 8, 2017

Now that we’re passed the first week of December, I wanted to give you guys a better sense of where Crimson Glass is going in 2018.

Starting December 31, I’ll start posting Bittersweet. From December 31 to January 7, I’ll be re-posting Chapters 1-8. They haven’t been hugely rewritten, but they’ve been cleaned up and slightly to adjust to better suit the later part of the story. You don’t have to reread, but I would recommend. Re-posting them here at CG will just make it easier for me to re-post them at the other archives.

Then, starting January 8, I’ll be posting two new chapters of Bittersweet a week on Mondays and Wednesdays.  Bittersweet will run through March. After concluding, we’ll be taking the month of April off, and then in May, my hope is that Mad World will be ready. More on that in a second.

On Fridays, I’ll be posting a workshop item. I’m workshopping a few alternate universe ideas: the murder mystery one I started in the fall, the Scottish story, the magic story, and then I’m playing around with a few others.

Regarding Mad World: I’ve actually re-envisioned the story and it’s going to be almost an alternate version of the show set in the summer of 2003. It’ll be divided into three parts: a rewrite of the panic room and the kidnapping as the first book, and then the next two books deal with two more events set — the original Mad World idea moved back to 2003, and then a third one wrapping things up and dealing with the end of the Ric storyline.

There’s no reason to think I won’t be able to make the May 2018 publication date for Mad World. I’m scheduled to finish Bittersweet this week, and then I should be almost finished the first book in MW by the first week in January, and I’ll just plow through books two and three in January, February, and March.

I’m working on Damaged, it’s still a struggle to make storylines fit together and I haven’t given it enough attention. I’ve been trying to figure out why it’s not working for me, and I’m not there yet. I will be, eventually. It’s not the first time I’ve put Damaged on the shelf for awhile, but we’re at two years now and I feel super bad about that. I’m hoping that once I figure out why Season 3 is being annoying, I can plot that and Season 4 at the same time, at which time I plan to conclude the Victor storyline. There’s no thought for a Season 5 at the moment.

So in 2018, you should get about four full-length novels from me as well as various workshop items, short stories, and possibly Damaged. But you will be getting Bittersweet and all three books in Mad World. That’s a promise.

I’ll be back tonight to kick off Workshop Fridays 🙂

December 1, 2017

I’m going to make this quick and sweet because I’m pretty tired and it’s been a long week. It’s December 1, so where are we with Bittersweet?

The end of the semester seemed to sneak up on me suddenly this week and I had two ten page papers back to back, so I haven’t been able to do much writing. I still have about 10 chapters left to write, which I hope to get going on this week. I’m hoping for at least one day when I can just do nothing but write because I know I can knock out a few chapters all at once if I just had the time.

The good news is that I doubled how much I had for Bittersweet, going from 11 chapters to about halfway through Chapter 23. I have the first twenty chapters already sent to Cora, and I’ll be sending the last of it when I finish. Still on track to come back in January.

And to celebrate surviving November, I have a Micro Fiction for the Workshop. Written in 17 minutes without proof reading for typos: Micro Fiction: Tequila Surprises

This entry is part 1 of 2 in the Flash Fiction: Tequila Surprises

Written in 17 minutes.

Her least favorite time of the day was morning.

Specifically, it was the blurry moments that existed in the space between sleep and waking. When she was toasty and warm, the bed a soft pillow of cotton—

It was a moment before Elizabeth Webber realized something as wrong. Very, very wrong.

She was not toasty and warm, tucked into her comfy bed.

The mattress was a flat as a rock, the pillow might as well have not existed—and was that an arm over her waist?

Oh, what fresh hell was this?

She cracked her eyes a sliver and huffed—she was lying on her side away from the mysterious holder of the arm, but she could confirm she was in a crappy motel.

She slid slowly towards the edge of the mattress. If she could just get out of bed, she could find her things, ignore this ever happened, and go back to her boring life without ever looking at who over belonged to that arm.

But life was not on her side as Elizabeth set one foot on the floor and immediately tripped over a heavy shoe of some kind as she tried to extricate the other leg.

“Fucking hell,” she muttered as she flew forward, her arms flailing and her elbow catching the side of the nightstand.

“Elizabeth?”

Oh. Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no, no.

“Oh, what did you do, girl?” she murmured to herself, squeezing her eyes shut. It wasn’t his voice. This wasn’t happening.

She was a good girl. With a safe life. Who lived a beige, bland existence.

She was a good girl.

“Elizabeth?”

Elizabeth opened her eyes, because maybe it was someone else with that voice who knew her, a girl could dream—but nope. Nope, that was Jason Morgan.

Of course.

“Oh. God. Why me?” Elizabeth muttered, putting her head in her hands. “Was a I war criminal in the last life? What did I do—”

She heard sheets rustle as he spoke again, amused. “Hey. It’s not that bad—”

“Not that bad?” Elizabeth struggled to her feet—realized she was stark naked and reached for a corner of the sheet to drag across her—which only left him a corner of the same sheet.

She looked at him for a long moment, taking in that golden smoothness—could a man look so chiseled? Was it even allowed—focus, damn it. This was what happened when you let Lizzie take charge.

Because now it was all coming back to her. Going to Jake’s. Taking tequila shots. Taking a lot of tequila shots. Seeing Jason in a booth, looking alone, sipping a solo beer.

She had taken some tequila to him, feeling sorry for him. And…then…she’d clearly…done something to have this happen.

“Um, things are a bit foggy,” Elizabeth managed. “I don’t—”

“I don’t either,” Jason confessed with a sheepish half smile. “I mostly just remember the tequila.” The amusement slid from his face. “Did I do anything—I don’t—”

“Oh.” Elizabeth shoved her hair out of her face, blinking at him. “Oh, no. Listen.” He seemed genuinely worried he’d taken advantage of her, but it was way more likely to be the other way around. She had….a thing about tequila. Her inhibitions seemed to evaporate and she was almost sure she had…suggested something illegal in a few states.

But how did you tell a guy you’d lusted after him for the better part of a decade and save face?

“Um.” Elizabeth tried to straighten. “I should…I’m gonna get dressed, I think.”

“Okay,” Jason said slowly. “If you—” The smile came back with a hint of wickedness that she had never seen before. The man was sex on a stick, and now she’d never remember it.

Fate was a cruel, cruel bitch.

“I’ll just close my eyes.” She did so, squeezing so hard she was sure she’d have a headache.

She felt him slide off the bed past her, and then some rustling as he gathered his clothing. “I’m going in the bathroom—let me—let me know when you’re done.”

When the door clicked, Elizabeth dressed in lightning speed, shoving her legs into her jeans, tugging the black tank top over her head, and locating her sandals and purse.

And then did the sensible, sane, mature thing.

She fled the room.

Because she’d just slept with her ex-boyfriend’s twin brother after said brother had just eloped with Jason’s fiance, and she was pretty sure you went to hell for things like that.