|
Now that we've all thawed out after that polar vortex, it's time to have a look at this month's upcoming events! (I'm sorry I'm a few days late, but the aforementioned weather waylaid me for a whole week without reliable interwebs.) As we head into the most romantic month of the year, let's see if we can share some of our greatest loves - our books, poems, and stories - with the world!
Click here (or the image below) to see this month's events list.
PITCH CONTESTS
THEMELESS CONTESTS
COOL THEMES
NEWS
Volume 35 of Writers of the Future is available for pre-order! This will be my first time in paper print. (I don't make any money from the sale of the book. I'm just excited. Isn't this cover image cool?)
#Write4Life is also returning in May to benefit the World Literacy Foundation! (My last newsletter listed the wrong charity - oopsie.) We've already nabbed some big name books to give away (Kelley Armstrong! Eeek!), and we're tossing around ideas on how to make this event bigger and better than ever.
On an unrelated note, I'm also planning out my first ever term as DM on a DnD campaign using one of my books' settings. Will I be a hit or a flop? Time will tell!
TEASER
From work-in-progress, Darkness Rising, YA dark fantasy.
I can’t be a tool. I can’t go back to that life.
She had escaped all that. She had worked so hard to escape. She’d become a Kite, against all odds and tradition. She had stripped herself bare to earn that right.
And then her mother had killed her father, and taken control. And she stole Nso’s choices away.
“You’re thinking about your mother, aren’t you?” Thomas said. She spun. He sat in an alcove, his legs crossed, that strange sword placed across his knees. He looked like a starsdamned priest or something. Daveed was nowhere in sight.
You’re too distracted. You should have seen him.
“Daveed found a dark room to sleep in. Very empty. I checked.”
She shot him a glare.
“What? I can see you looking,” he said.
“I don’t have to talk to you,” she snapped.
“I never said you did.”
Confound this dusty plebeian. She couldn’t faze him, not even with her best glare.
“Did you steal that sword, little Dosta?” she hissed.
He raised an eyebrow at her. “Oh, Miss Kite, you wound me. I am so very offended, and you have completely distracted me from the substance of this conversation.” His eyebrow fell, and his voice flattened out. “No. I didn’t steal it. My master made it with his bare hands. Then he killed himself. And I get extremely angry and upset about it sometimes, and I look just like you did a moment ago, which is why I thought you were thinking about your mother. And I was right, wasn’t I?”
She crossed her arms, but even in her own head, she felt she did it out of feeling cold, rather than anger. Confound him, confound him. He has a hold on me. How did I ever let honorless scum get a hold on me?
“Tell me why you hate her,” Thomas said.
A big thanks to all my Patreon supporters!
You make these monthly newsletters possible!
|
