WIP Snippet #6

WIP Snippet #6

WIP Snippet #6

Puddles in the Pavement

 

In honour of British Puddlings Day, I bring you a snippet about my pudding-scoffing archangel sleuth, Uriel, from Puddles in the Pavement. This is the first story in which you’ll meet Uriel in the flesh, unless you subscribe to my newsletter and read the bonus story. Uriel will make a detective of you yet. And he’ll stuff you with pudding. Spotted Dick is not what it sounds like.

character art of Raven Albright. Young man with long black hair and makeup.

WIP Progress

Puddles in the Pavement: draft complete, 30,046 words

Stage: edited, ready for publication

Projected publishing date: Summer 2023

“They’ll be lining up from here to Bishopsgate if you keep giving them half a crown for a pudding,” said Bel.

“How do you know it was half a crown?”

“Please! I can tell exactly which coin and exactly how far down the bucket was. I have a knack for these things.”

“Pointless things,” Uriel huffed.

“You’ll be financing her move to Pimlico. Then who will make your puddings?”

“The boy needs new shoes. If he doesn’t have them within the week, you and I are going shopping.”

“You can buy my new boots while you’re at it.”

Uriel threw the newspaper at Bel. “Christ, it’s still warm.”

Bel let out a long sigh. “These rooms are stifling, and the sun’s barely up.”

“Yesterday you complained about the rain.”

“Why must the British weather try to fit in every meteorological phenomenon in a single month? It’s supposed to be spring.”

Uriel did not respond.

“I hate it here,” Bel tried.

Uriel remained silent. There were only so many times he could listen to his brother beg to open the Mayfair house before he gave in. Of all his brothers, Bel was the most persuasive and his favourite, two factors which, when combined, usually had Uriel giving in quickly. Just this once, he was determined to stand his ground.

He settled by the window, his breakfast bowl already waiting on the small mahogany table. He carved himself a portion of the steaming pudding with a giant spoon and doused it in custard.

Bel waited for Uriel’s first moan of delight before giving him the news. “There have been twelve reports of missing persons over the last two days.”

Free Books

Free Books

Free Books!

I’ve teamed up with a host of sci-fi and fantasy authors this month to bring you a free book hoard. With so many subgenres represented, and with novels, novellas and short stories to choose from, you’re bound to find something that fits your mood.

character art of Raven Albright. Young man with long black hair and makeup.

My novella, The Weakest Link, is just one of the books available to download for free this month.

When life gives you blood and ashes, you’d better have a mop handy.

Being the only human in the family sucks.

Amethyst’s family is just like any other. So, her aunt is a pyromaniac, her uncles are into gardening, tea, and biting, and her dad is the leader of a vampire coven. So what?

It’s her sister that’s the problem. Mara is a liability with a price on her head and wolves at her door. Literally.

When a deadly threat invades their home, trust within the coven is at an all-time low.

And Amethyst is the weakest link.

~~~

Click the button or the banner below to find your next read, and hopefully find a new favourite author or two. Happy reading!

 

WIP Snippet #3

WIP Snippet #3

WIP Snippet #3

Puddles in the Pavement

 

Last week, I gave you a snippet from DeMobbed featuring Gabriel (you know, the one from the nativity). This snippet is from Puddles in the Pavement, the second book in the Tales from the Noctuary series, which is set in the late Victorian era.

character art of Raven Albright. Young man with long black hair and makeup.

WIP Progress

Puddles in the Pavement: draft complete, 30, o46 words

Stage: edited, ready for publication

Projected publishing date: summer 2023

Rosemont steepled his fingers together over his desk, eyeing his visitors with the sharpest of blue eyes. “To what do I owe the pleasure, gentlemen?”

Uriel and Bel shared a worried look.

Rosemont glanced at the man hovering by the door. “You may leave, Jelly.”

He bowed his way out. “Your grace.”

When the door was firmly closed and Rosemont was certain the man had gone back to his own desk, he said, “If you’ve come to turn my life upside down, you’re too late.”

The two men sighed as if they’d both been holding their breath.

Uriel quirked an eyebrow. “A bit bold for the workplace, isn’t it?”

“What are you talking about?”

Jelly?”

“Good grief, Uriel, it’s the man’s name. Do you think I routinely gift my employees with ridiculous terms of endearment?”

“Perhaps not routinely,” Uriel admitted. “His name is really Jelly?”

Rosemont massaged his temples. Oh, to have had just one week without a visit from this meddlesome pair.

“We’re here about Lord Farringdon,” said Bel.

Rosemont sighed. “I heard you two had been poking your noses in.”

“The man confessed,” said Bel.

“It’s a pity he cannot be tried twice,” said Rosemont. “We can have him up for perjury, of course, but—”

“The God-Wolf didn’t take him for the murders of five women,” Uriel said.

“He took him for the murders of eight,” Bel added.