Family life, writing life, work life, I can't give up any. But creativity is intoxicating, and whenever possible, I'm off chasing the muse.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Win a free e-book: tell me where you'd rather be!
Some days get hectic. Sometimes responsibility tires you out, and you just wish that, for one day, or a few simple hours, you could be away. Carefree, careless, self-indulgent, even pampered.
When I wrote Beside the Darker Shore, I wanted carefree time away. I created a vampire named Arturo who loved to indulge, and had him extend an invitation to his villa in rural Spain. The arrival to his villa appears in the excerpt below. But I'm wondering where you'd like to go? Imagine no job, no family, no duties to fulfill, just a day somewhere--from your own backyard, to an amusement park, to another planet. Where would you like to go?
I'll be drawing names to win a free e-book of the novel from the entries here and on my other blog and live chat as Beside the Darker Shore is launched today. Please join in. I'd love to hear where you'd like to be!
Buttoning his cuff, Arturo returned his stare. “I can’t ease the world for you forever. You are vampire. You need blood. You will kill.” He pointed to the window. “For now, look. The Picos de Europa.”
They had entered a dark gorge with jagged cliffs rising like castles, mottled limestone, veined in blue-gray, black, and streaks of pink. Water gushed through a rocky cleft, catching the skittish moonlight.
The land had turned savage, David thought, although in the valley at his right, he could make out a small hamlet run with what appeared to be orchards. “Cherry and walnut orchards mostly. There is little wealth here,” Arturo said, “but Tomas has brought food and wines from all over my country. For the festival. Red Riojá, Cariñena,Valdepeña—you will taste these wines on our humans’ breath."
... in the distance, the villa materialized. It appeared at first as a natural rock formation, running unevenly across the valley, but then David could see how the stone wall arced and dipped along the wave of the valley. In one low dip was a higher arch, with iron gates. The entrance.
He turned a smile at Arturo who hadn’t spoken a word since the car. Then he hurried to the gate. Not rock, but marble created the arch over the stonework, and words were carved into the arch: “La mejor salsa del mundo es el hambre.” Arturo stood hands on his hips before the entrance. “My angels recite Cervantes: ‘Hunger is the best sauce in the world,’ they say.”