I have to take a few paragraphs and talk about this past month: February 2018. This year, I committed myself to overhauling my original Moondrake written in 2016. What was a single POV is now three separate POVs. What was about 40,000 words became 60,000. What was "unfinished" is currently being written and is another 20,000 words presently.
I mentioned in a prior blog about my goals for each month. Here are the main three at the moment:
Goal one: write a monthly blog.
Goal two: write at minimum 5,000 words for Moondrake
Goal three: write at minimum 2.000 words for the next Southern Jersey Shores installment.
I'm happy to report that all of February's goals were met and exceeded. Yeah!!! But I also gotta "toot my own horn" because not only did I exceed 5,000 words on Moondrake... I killed it with 11,134. For SJS, I wrote just over, totaling 2,126. I haven't had such a prolific month since my last Camp Nano and I think I only squeaked in around 15k with padding from blog posts and review writing.
I hope I'm able to keep the momentum going. Gotta get through March and then on to Camp NaNoWriMo in April.
Also for this month, I've got to work on my IMPACT flash fiction, a 300 word submission for my Queer Sci-Fi group. I've submitted works for the past three years. I haven't won, but my stories have all been accepted for inclusion in the yearly book that comes out. Only the top 100 make it.
And on that note, how about I include year one's flash for you. The theme: Discovery
(Oh! I'd forgotten, this first one is actually a take off of Moondrake. How serendipitous.)
Craving Scents
The alien leader nodded, and a sweet, heady aroma of vanilla and spice arose. Mason scowled as his crew grew languid, their stances relaxing. Their mouths slackened, and they gazed at their captors as they were drawn apart.
The two aliens who’d shot his lover, Bran, knelt beside him, pressing him effortlessly to the floor of the spaceship. Mason watched him succumb to whatever magic these strange beings had, and gasped when Bran stared hungrily at the mouth of the one in front of him. Bran's full lips parted, his beautiful hazel eyes blown wide—that lustful, hungry gaze belonged to him, not some alien creatures! He glanced over at his crew and found them all with greedy, wanton expressions. He’d never seen this in all his travels through the solar systems.
Mason rounded on the humanoid-appearing aliens. “What did you do to them?” he protested. And why am I the only one unaffected?
Startled, their leader lunged forward, grabbed Mason’s upper arms and spun him. He held Mason’s back to his chest. Mason twisted, but his muscles refused to obey, his efforts futile against the alien’s strong grip, and yet his mind stayed sharp. All his men, including Bran, had given in to their cravings, wrapping themselves around their captors, kissing them with abandon. He shuddered, and the alien holding him leaned down, placing his mouth against Mason’s ear.
“Why are you not affected, little captain?”
The breath of the alien blazed hot on his neck, his arms were pulled behind his back while fingers worked to bind his wrists. He struggled ineffectively, his body sluggish and unresponsive. He’d carelessly given the leader time to subdue him. To work his magic on him. He panted, inhaling more of the scent, the fight fleeing his body, spiraling him into unconsciousness.
