End of a Tough Week

Hey folks, it has been one of those weeks when my plans truly amused the gods. In other words, dang little I’d planned actually took place, but I seemed to be overly busy every day. Sometimes life just goes that way and we either go with the flow or drown.

When I take a hard look back at it, I did accomplish quite a lot, just not a lot writing oriented.

However, there has been some progress. Book three of the Nova series is well under way and book two is nearly ready to launch. So, on that note, here’s another glimpse into Assassin of Nova and a look of the final cover.

The small speeder closed on the fleeing mail carrier ship like a striking falcon. Pulling alongside the aging craft and matching speed, Kella reached for the communicator. “Mail carrier Argus, slow your rotation; we will lock on.”

“No.” The reply was short, but the voice sounded fearful. The captain had an idea who might be in that small ship and he wanted only to be anywhere she was not.

“Look at your screen, Captain. Do you see the woman with the tattoos? Do you know who this is?”

“Yes.” He was terrified now.

Lessa moved closer to the screen and spoke. Her voice left no room for argument or dissension. “Slow your rotation if you wish to survive.”

“Yes Lady.” The ship’s rotation slowed and the speeder locked on.

The air lock hissed open and Lessa slipped through. She was instantly hit with a blast of energy from a high powered pulse weapon. Anyone else would have been killed instantly; Lessa was staggered, but remained on her feet.

She thrust out her hand and the man screamed in pain as the weapon burst into flame, severely burning his hands. A twist of her hand and his clothing caught fire. He screamed again, but she closed her fingers tightly and the flames vanished. Her hand flew open again and he was hurled against the bulkhead where he hung in the air.

“Where is she?” That voice was deep, filled with hate and rage, and clearly not the voice of a human woman.

“Not here,” he gasped out.

“I know that. Where did you leave her? Speak.”

That terrible voice sent waves of fear and pain through his body, and he whimpered as he answered her. “PX19. They were waiting on PX19.”

“Your hands are ruined, and your eyes no longer see.” At that dread pronouncement his world went dark and he fell to the deck, whimpering in fear.

Lessa stepped past him and made her way to the bridge. A quick scan of the ship’s auto log showed her the co-ordinates on PX19. She sent them to Kella then returned to the loading bay where the hapless man lay on the floor.

“I will contact the Borelian Guard; they will come for you.” With that she turned and slipped gracefully back through the air lock.

Now for the ROW80 check-in:

Goals:

1.      Write 10,000 words per week. (I only managed six thousand this week. Sigh)

2.      Read 10,000 words per week. (I truly doubt I managed this either. We’ll call it a miss.)

3.      Edit ten pages of a completed MS. (Got this one done.)

4.      Feature a new author every Friday. (I didn’t manage this either on Friday. Perhaps next week.)

5.      Read and comment on 10 blogs per week. (This one I did manage.)

Folks, if you are an author and want to be featured on this blog, just drop me a line here:  prudymac@gmail.com

Well, that’s about all I have in me this week folks. I know I should devote the next two hours to writing, but I just don’t have it in me. I’m going on World of Warcraft and commit some mayhem for a while then I’m calling it a day.

Talk to me friends; tell me you had more success than I did this past week. J