story:
A while back I admitted that I was writing a few short stories. I asked readers to pick the book the Dark King should read*. . . I loved the suggestions, and I now have in my head a great bookshelf of their books. (It's a wooden shelf, free of knickknacks but for a few odds that were left behind when they went over to pick up a book.) Still, Pheona had the perfect suggestion . . . actually so did Tiger, Dusty, and RedRainDrops66, so all 3 of these folks can ping me (email or catch me thru PM on the Rath) if they want
a) to read it before anyone else does (i.e. in draft form in the next month or so)
b) a copy of the anthology whenever it releases (signed if you want--or not)
c) a copy of a different one of my books (signed or not if you want)
d) a copy of Irial's selected book (which clearly will not be signed) or the one they recommended.
And with the business out of the way, here's the excerpt in question . . . It's not a big one, or a finished one, but *shrug* I'm in one of those moods today . . .
Unlike some faeries, he didn’t bother with a glamour. He sat on a bench across from the tables where she had coffee with her weekly study group. These together-but-not times were the closest thing she’d had to a date in months. He read whatever his book of the week was, and she studied.
She couldn’t see the cover at first. She glanced at it several times, trying for subtle, but he noticed.
With a grin, he lifted it higher, blocking his face as a result. The extra benefit of that move was that she could look at him unabashedly while they both pretended he didn’t realize she was admiring him. He looked happier of late, far more so than he’d looked when she’d left Huntsdale. Ruling the Dark Court had suited him, but advising the new Dark King seemed to suit him better. He hadn’t lost his taste for indulgent clothes though. A silk tee and tailored linen trousers flattered him without being ostentatious. The silver razor blade he’d worn before was accompanied by a small black glass vial. Without asking, she knew it was the same ink that she had in her tattoo.
Maudlin or romantic? She wasn’t sure.
He lowered the book—one called American Gods this time—taking away her unobserved access, and stared at her for several heartbeats._____
* It was NOT a contest, but I'm in a mood so *shrug*


Comments
Great program you and Kelley gave at the LoC. Even better was getting the chance to chat I screwed up at RWA. Go you! I think back to Balticon 2007, and all I can do is grin.
Cheers and smiles,
Jean Marie