A Day Late and a Dollar Short – The February 2014 Update

The February Update of this writer’s journey is being posted on the first day in March. And so my life has been going lately.

I’ve been sucker punched and laid low by circumstances of late, but I’m learning to feint in a good way.

As of the writing of this post I’ve sent the finished novella, The Scent of a Witch, to my editor and await word before submitting to publishing companies.

Isn’t this overkill, if you aren’t self-publishing? Obviously, even the tiniest e-publisher provides both an editor and a proofreader at no cost to the author.

Reviewed by LASRBut we can all miss something or multiple somethings and garner a sales-stopping review like this three star comment by Long and Short Reviews of my short story One Stormy Night:

Repeated typos and grammar and spelling errors lead me to give this novella a lower rating than it would have otherwise received. While it was easy to figure out what author intended to say most of the time, the actual meanings of a few sentences remain a mystery to me.

Can I blame the editor or the publisher?

No. Ultimately, it was my name attached to this work and I have resolved to work harder.

I want to make it as a writer and no matter how good the story is and how welled developed the characters are, honestly I have to write at my grammatical best. If that means hiring an editor prior to submitting to a publishing company then so be it. The megalomaniac inside myself can rip her hands from the steering wheel of our career and enjoy an iced coffee.

OSNLovers of One Stormy Night, you’ll be able to read an error free edition of this short story or maybe you’ll join me as I grow with my next entry inside the world of romance.

***Unedited Excerpt: The Scent of A Witch***

“I couldn’t leave you in the visitor’s room, Adua.”

“Don’t call me that. My name is Ada.”

“Ada.” He lifted her chin up into his hands, stroked his fingers down her throat.

Her skin blazed with the touch and she scooted away from it. This was no time be thinking about how even his gaze warmed her insides and how she would love to trace her fingers over the ridges of his abdomen. Never had the desire for one person been this strong. Concentrate, idiot. “Why did you bring me here?”

“You fainted. Fatima elongated the state of unconsciousness. She is also Ngali.”

Also Ngali. A witch like me. Ada swallowed the impending snicker. If she starting laughing again she might never stop. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“Why did I bring you here? I wanted to make sure you were safe. There is the possibility that you may experience some…some discomfort as your power grows.”

“Like what?”

“Visions.” He turned away from her and stared out of the window. With his face in profile, his hair was as dark as she’d imagined last night and more beautiful in the shimmery light filtering in through the window. “They can be overwhelming at times.”

Visions? Like the one she’d experienced the first time she saw him.

Without a second thought, she moved her hand through his hair, lifting and twirling the silky strands with her fingers. “Was that all?” She leaned close to him, breathing in his intoxicating scent until she was almost panting. “Was that the only reason?”

“No,” he growled deep and low. “I want what you want.” Ewan placed his hands at her sides, his nearness sending a delightful tingle down her spine. He kissed her.

Unlike before, she could respond. Ada parted her lips for the slow entrance of his tongue. Ewan tickled the insides of her cheeks and swept across the roof of her mouth, languidly stoking the fire already melting her core.

Suddenly it was alright. This she could understand – the heated kiss and his moans of pleasure echoing in the moonlit room.

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