So, I’m almost done with this book. And I’m excited about it–it’s urban fantasy, and there was a lot of world building, and I sort of love it.
I don’t know where it’s going yet–but I’ll keep you posted.
And although it may be a long time before you see the rest, since I’m going to be finishing up tonight or tomorrow, I thought you may want to see a little of what’s got me so invested.
Meet Tucker and Angel. Two guys who are about to break all the rules of heaven:
* * *
through the supplies and started pan-toasting bread for a roast beef sandwich. “You
hated this place on sight—why would you want to fix it up?”
be helping me do shit here, and all you can do is complain that I’m doing it
wrong. Jesus, I’ve been here less than eight hours. Give the rookie a
chance.” With a practiced flip, he
turned the bread and let it brown in the remaining butter.
start replacing objects and taking down walls.” Angel wrung his hands—actually wrung his hands, like an aggrieved 50’s
happen is that I’ll be less inclined to hang myself in the ceiling fan and
create a new cursed object!”
their bickering died down, Tucker heard shock and concern.
added the onions he’d browned earlier. Unbidden, he remembered those days after
Damien… after the funeral. He’d crawled into bed for days, barely surfacing to
go to the bathroom. The only thing that had pulled him out of bed had been the
same thing that always pulled him—the painful punch to the gut that said it was
time to go change somebody’s life. He’d managed a shower and clean clothes that
had hung on him like rags, and he’d even made it intothe restaurant. He had no
clear memory of the young man or the sex in a cheap hotel that had followed.
What he did remember was the guy on
the phone the next morning, whispering to his best friend, “Lor, you’ve got to
come and get me. I think I slept with a homeless man last night. You’re right.
I’ll go to rehab. This is it—I’ve totally hit rock bottom and I need to change
left, and then he’d cried. He’d wept for hours, until the maid had needed to
kick him out, and he’d dragged his sorry ass home.
shaving—and when he’d gone to bed that night he’d made a resolution.
the opposite. He could either drink and mope his way through it, or he could
enjoy the things he had.
“Once, it was that bad. As to whether or not it gets that bad again, I’ll leave
that to you to sort things out.”
was there. He sat down with his sandwich
and a glass of milk, grateful for the coolness of the milk and the way the
grilled onions burst butter on his tongue.
He was savoring another bite of sandwich when Angel spoke, startling
chewing for a moment.
fact, it’s sort of ruined my life. So when I sit down to eat, I want my
goddamned sandwich just the way I want it. Cause it’s the thing that gets me
through the day.”
the shape of the person Tucker had seen all day faded a little, like a picture
in the sun. It returned, and Angel’s hair was darker, his face a little longer.
Not a dead ringer for Damien now, more like his older brother.
even registering that he’d changed.
rolled his eyes.