Unfinished Work

Hello, Sia followers!

Did you ever have way too many irons in the fire.  Having a yard for the first time to work with has given me way too many projects to do outside.  I managed to finish using Mold Armour to get the disgusting green mold off the outside of my house and it's a beautiful baby blue again (I didn't put the mold there in the first place; that was the previous owner).  I got rid of that awful pile of wood and I even have a deck, table, and grill set up.  I still need to get a photo of my new shed too.  Still haven't used it - need some tidying up first - but it will really improve the state of my yard.  Then, there's my most recent addition to the yard - an unfinished tree bench.  I would have had this done back in June, but the screws kept acting stripped and pulling apart as soon as you finish a section.  Then between long hours at work and the heat wave/drought we've been having, I've been trying to stay in the A/C to keep cool and hydrated.  So, it remains unfinished. 

Another unfinished project is the raised bed I was supposed to have gotten put together last summer to start a garden in.  I had these big plans to start with one raised bed and put chicken wire around it for a place for the sugar snap peas and green beans to grow.  And, if it was successful, I was hoping to add another each summer until I am able to have enough produce over the summer and some to freeze and can.  Well, that hasn't happened either.  Which, considering the drought, might be a good thing.

Some people believe one of the reasons why spirits still walk this earth is because of unfinished business here.  I really hope my unfinished yard work doesn't become my unfinished business - roaming my yard and wailing about the work to still be done.  Oh, wait....  Did that last week.  Ok, moving on. 
So, yes, I believe in ghosts.  I've been on ghost hunts and have been slowly collecting all the equipment I would need to help in measure activity.  I have an EMF detector, my phone has an application that supposedly picks up voices, and I have dousing rods.  I even took a class and have a signed certificate saying I have completed a ghost-hunting course that included hands on experience.
Recently I have practically become a specter to my Twitter and Facebook friends and family.  I've been so wrapped up in doing anything but go on the computer and finish the draft of my first Atlantean book that I am sure you all have been wondering where I have been and what I have been up to.  Well, I was afraid.  Honestly afraid of finishing the first draft.  I was afraid to get the book out there to be criticized and found lacking.  I was afraid of editing - because I felt like I would be cutting up something I poured so much of myself and my life into.  I was afraid of costs to get a hard copy to beta readers.  I had found just about anything and everything to be afraid of.  But, I should have been afraid of never finishing.
Needless to say, the draft is done and now I am in the process of brainstorming cover ideas to give myself a wee break before I dive into editing.  Anything keeping you from finishing your life's work?
Happy Reading!

One of the Lucky Ones

While I technically didn't get officially elected, I'm taking from James Garcia Jr.'s post and Tameri Etherton's post that I have been unofficially selected to be a winner of the Lucky 7 Meme.  Thanks, Jimmy and Tameri!  Happy Birthday to you both as well!  So, with no further ado, let's see what we have.

Here are the rules:
1) Go to page 77 of your current WIP.
2) Go to line 7.
3) Copy down the next seven sentences, lines, paragraphs (I've seen it done many ways).
4) Tag 7 other authors.
5) Let them know.

I've elected to post seven paragraphs per item 3) above.  Please be forewarned, there is very adult content here.  I even had to change my blog's settings for mature content.  This is from my upcoming first book of a trilogy on Atlantis.  The current working title is Before Atlantis:  From Mediterranean to Mesopotamia.

“How to service me.”

            Her will rose to the surface, wanting to do something violent to this man to protect her freedom, but she forced her docile expression to stay fixed.  “I am a seeress of my people, not a whore, Yemeni, although I know there are followers of this army who are very well versed in the art of servicing men of your tastes.”  She wanted to suggest he summon one of them, but held her tongue.  The violence in his expression spiked and she was treated to another slap across the face, opening up her lip.  She tasted her own blood, but didn’t wipe it from her face as she looked up at him with childlike hurt in her expression. 
            “None of them look as fresh and rare as you, woman,” he said, his voice dripping with contentment with the blood on her face. 
            She bowed her head feigning her acceptance of her fate.  “Will I be yours alone or shared by all the men?” she asked in a meek voice.
            Yemeni looked at the men who brought her in and ordered them out to guard the entrance to the tent.  Inwardly she grinned in triumphant.  He came closer to her and grabbed her hair to pull her up.  The pain that lanced through her skull was intense and caused her muscles to clench and try to curl away only to cause her more pain in her neck and shoulders as he nearly dragged her to a pallet with cushions adorning it.  He threw her on the cushions and began to peel off his robes.  She sent a quick inner probe to ensure her child was safe, then rose to her knees and grinned at him. 
            Yemeni paused in removing his breeches at her strange smile.  She curled a beckoning finger to him.  Surprised, he moved closer and she put her hands on his thighs, ignoring the throbbing member jutting up at her from his breeches that still required removal.  Her blue eyes bore into his.  Suddenly, he collapsed beside her.  Sighing, she rubbed her head at the ache and felt new warmth on her upper lip.  Swiping at her nose, she discovered by the red smear on her wrist that blood was dripping from it.  She sighed.  Too much power use for her body.  She will be helpless soon.  She ripped Yemeni’s robes into strips and bound him.  After ensuring his bonds were sufficient, she touched his temples and infiltrated his mind, trying to find something good to work from. 

 Chapter 14

Ashur was in no condition to give commands.  No nightly attack would happen.  No one wished to risk harming Nimuan while she was in the enemy camp and Ashur was coaxed away from the front line by his mother in the early morning hours.  She took him home and managed to get him to sit on his pallet in his room.  She fixed him some tea and brought it to him, startled to find him in the exact place and position she left him in.   Light was beginning to brighten the sky as she knelt before him and cupped a hand to the cup she handed him that steamed.  His grip took the stone cup, but he simply held it. 

Now for the seven nominees.  So many have already received this wonderfully fun award, so it will be a difficult choice.

1. Rose Pressey
2. Angela Wallace
3. Amaleen Ison
4.  Kait Nolan
5.  Michelle Krys
6.  Jackie Miller
7.  M.E. Franco

If it seems random, it was.  I tried to go through my Twitter follower list and looked at a bunch of you to see if you have 1) a blog and 2) not received this award yet.  I'm looking forward to seeing what those lucky 7 have for their WIP excerpts.

Happy Reading!