I am battling this nice little head cold that wants to take root in my sinuses and grow and inflame them and take them over. Over the weekend I wrote about 1300-1400 words total, including a drabble which was part of a scene building exercise for writerverse, over on LJ. I also finished another chapter of Stellar, which may be getting retitled to The Stellar Challenge, but I’m not 100% sure yet. It’s a speculative fiction novel that takes place after the seven main characters die and have to complete this Challenge in order to get a second chance into Heaven.

I have a lot of fun with the concept for it, but I struggle a lot with the particulars of the book, itself. With so many characters to juggle, not to mention their back stories, how their lives impacted them as a person now. It’s really fascinating stuff, but winging it has only taught me so much. I’m still learning a lot about the characters, and hopefully I can keep punching out a chapter here and there and see how it goes.

I tried, and have succeeded, in hitting 1000 words for today, despite this fucking cold. It’s actually a smut crossover I was writing for myself and a friend of mine, but I may change the names and sell it on Amazon because sure, why not? Or maybe put it up on Smashwords, see what happens there. I don’t foresee this one being very long, and right now I can’t put up any of my other erotica short stories up on there until their enrollment in KDP Select expires. 

But really, this cold is kicking my ass and I need to get back to work. At least for a little bit. Here is the drabble I will expand once the next writerverse challenge gets posted:

***

Savin glanced at his phone. furrowing his brow. Mari’s text flashed across the screen: In labor. NEED YOU NOW. His heart stopped as he pocketed the phone. He faced the man in front of him. “I’m sorry — my fiancee’s in –”

The words caught in his throat, refusing to pass his lips. He shook his head. He needed to remain professional. “Mr. Callahan’s in recovery room three.”

“Thank you, Doctor…”

“Bates,” Savin supplied for him, offering him a tight-lipped smile. His phone grew heavy and hot in his pocket. He needed to leave. 

Mari was only twenty-one weeks pregnant.

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