So… I’ve started a new attempt at book six in my KILLING MEMORIES series. I’m a different writer than I was when I first wrote this series in 2002-2006, so I’m not expecting to fall right back into the same writing style. It’s slow going right now–only 20 pages in–and a little dark and sad at the beginning, which makes me wonder if I’ll be able to pull it together to have a decent story that picks up the light, playful tone of the other books.
I don’t know. Nothing really excites me about writing at the moment. I’m definitely feeling like I’m in a bit of a slump, which sucks. So, in order to hopefully break out of this, my new goal is to write at least 1 page a day. I’ve written 5 pages so far today, so I guess it’s working.
No promises that I’ll actually finish KM6 — untitled at the moment (not a good sign). I hope I do, but like I’ve always said. I’m not going to write it without having a solid idea that I’m proud of. At the moment, it’s a bit of a free write. Want a taste? Okay… here’s part of the opening (subject to change):
Shoved into a closet full of butt plugs, leather whips, manacles, gags, dildos, fake butts and vaginas, and mannequins covered from head to toe in black Lycra with nothing but butt, nipple, and mouth holes, a bloody hand moved over my mouth as an equally strong arm, despite the cuts and lacerations and bruises, wound around my middle pulling me close against a naked and equally battered body. I could feel her heart racing against my spine and knew that she held me not for my protection, but for her comfort. I nodded once and she released my mouth. I smacked at my face, but the taste of her blood had already hit my tongue and I couldn’t help but dry heave and spit—quietly—onto the floor. Madame Cherry freed me to carefully position her sex mannequins around us in a semicircle. They stood with their mouths, lined with rubber spikes, wide open, like some perverted sentry ready to defend their dominatrix queen.
Her arms were back around me and we curled into a ball of human arms and legs. I wasn’t sure where she began and I ended. Her breath was hot against my neck. I frantically searched for her hand and grabbed it in mine.
“FIND HER!” a man bellowed.
Contrary to popular belief among my family and friends, I’d never gone looking for trouble. I never asked to be a part of murder investigations. I never wanted trouble. That’s not to say that it wasn’t exciting when it smacked me right in the face, but I never went looking for it. Anything I’d ever done that was remotely dangerous was done in the name of love.
Excerpt: Prologue KM6