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progress...
May. 25th, 2015 07:48 amSent agent email with proposed title of new book. Have not yet gotten panicked "oh god no that's horrible no!" response.
Next up: editor.
Here, have some non-spoilery bits:
The ‘post’ wasn’t a post at all, not like she’d been expecting. Instead, there was a collection of bones hung on the stockade wall, some held there by thick rusty nails, others seemingly wedged into the wood like they’d grown there. Some were the size of her hand, others longer, some bleached white and others crackling-brown with age and weather, and Isobel reached out her own hand to touch one, only to pull her fingers back as though she’d been slapped.
“What is this?”
Lou’s brows drew together in confusion, her head tilting as she looked first at Isobel, then at the bones, then back at Isobel. “The wards,” as though a child should have known that.
Next up: editor.
Here, have some non-spoilery bits:
The ‘post’ wasn’t a post at all, not like she’d been expecting. Instead, there was a collection of bones hung on the stockade wall, some held there by thick rusty nails, others seemingly wedged into the wood like they’d grown there. Some were the size of her hand, others longer, some bleached white and others crackling-brown with age and weather, and Isobel reached out her own hand to touch one, only to pull her fingers back as though she’d been slapped.
“What is this?”
Lou’s brows drew together in confusion, her head tilting as she looked first at Isobel, then at the bones, then back at Isobel. “The wards,” as though a child should have known that.
