3 Things, 3 Tags, & 777
An Author Spotlight
The steam locomotive to the Victorian Era is on the way, but it has to make an extra stop. It’s too difficult for me to post more than once a week, so please forgive me for doing a combination today. Before the engine reaches our Steampunk platform it’s going through the 777 Switching Station.
The train is at the switching station because I was triple-tagged for the 777 Writer’s Challenge. I was tagged by three delightful blogger-authors. I hope you’ll enjoy their blogs.
The Rules: Go to page 7 of your work‑in‑progress, scroll down to line 7, and share the next 7 sentences in a blog post. (Rather than tag anyone, I’m opening the challenge to all. Anyone who wants to take up the challenge is welcome to do so.)
A few times recently I’ve promoted my novel (Atonement, Tennessee), and the sequel that’s in the works. So for this challenge I’ll share a snippet of another work in progress (WIP) that I put aside in favor of finishing Atonement in Bloom. (It doesn’t really matter, since I haven’t had time to work on any novel…) Admittedly, I tried to manipulate the rules, but I still didn’t come up with a snippet that I was satisfied with sharing… Such as it is, here is my “777” from “The Guitar Mancer.”
Set-up: The Guitar Mancer is a quirky urban fantasy. It opens on New Year’s Eve, 1969 in Nashville, Tennessee. My 777 comes from the prologue, which centers on the villain, an evil supernatural being who is able to access power through music… (And put Chuck Berry in the back of your mind. I said it’s quirky.)
“I am still weak from countless years underground — obtaining an instrument that is well bonded to a mancer would restore me completely,” the man who called himself Yamata Orochi murmured.
Stepping outside his cell, Orochi bent to touch the incapacitated guard’s face. “What was the instrument?” he demanded roughly, and the injured guard arched his back in agony as the answer was dredged from his mind.
“A strange concept for an instrument,” Orochi murmured. “An electrical guitar? Yet this electrified guitar invoked the power quite well in the music that renewed me. Now, where do I find this place, Deep-Down Louisiana close to New-Or-Leans… among the evergreens?” quoting from the song, he compelled the poor guard to answer.
Okay… with that bit of blog-keeping out of the way, on to the serial! The three things that fueled the steam locomotive for this episode are from an author who is a great supporter of this blog — the outstanding Olga Núñez Miret. She has a newly released Young Adult series called Angelic Business. For a limited time, book-1 is free!
Now, without further ado… All aboard!
From last time…
“Hurry! Get inside,” Cornelis ordered pointing toward the building that was the laboratory of the version of him that inhabited this world. “Quickly,” he added with a sharp pat to the goat’s rump. “Hang on tight, Copper!” he called.
The lavender goat bolted toward the laboratory, carrying Copper on her back.
“What was that?” I exclaimed.
Cal Hicks came to himself as we all ran behind the goat. “I was so sure it was dead,” the amethyst ape said. “That was the hunting call of the one eyed one horned flying purple people eater!”
26. Glass Eye, Silver Vinaigrette, Sextant
“I feel funny,” Copper said and indeed she looked pale.
The one eyed one horned flying purple people eater roared a terrible screech a moment before, though the creature was not within our sight. I thought all the excitement must be too much for the girl. Copper, Corneils, Cal Hicks, and I hurriedly hid from the beast in the huge laboratory that belonged to the amethyst world’s duplicate of Cornelis Drebbel.
Copper got down from the lavender alpine goat that had playfully carried her into the building. She really did seem unsteady. Absinthe had been concerned about us consuming the water of this strange place. I wondered if something she ate or drank at tea disagreed with her.
Frantic cries from outside caused Cal Hicks to dash to the door. When he opened the door, the violet complected chimpanzee housekeeper rushed inside. She was in a terrible state, having heard the roar of the flying beast. She sank to a stool that was nearby.
“Viola! Whatever brings you out here? Were you hurt? Did you see the beast?” Cal Hicks asked in a single breath.
The housekeeper shook violently. I stooped down to see if she was hurt or unwell. That was when I first noticed that she had a glass eye. (Of course the eye was purple.) It was also the first time I realized that she must be elderly. There were broad strands of pale lavender in her reddish purple hair. It was not until that moment that it occurred to me that those pastel streaks would be the same as gray hair in our world.
Cal Hicks turned to us and described how the purple people eater had attacked the village where Viola grew up. She had been among the casualties. He discretely indicated that her eye had been one of her wounds. It was no wonder just hearing the creature frightened her to such an extent.
The amethyst ape seemed to know his way around the laboratory quite well. I thought he must have worked closely with the purple version of Cornelis Drebbel. He went directly to a table that held many intriguing devices. Cal opened a drawer and removed an intricately designed silver vinaigrette. An invigorating scent drifted over to me when he took the vinaigrette to Viola. The aroma seemed to revive her.
“Smelling salts?” I inquired.
“No, not precisely. Rather than ammonium, it’s a restorative herb,” Cal explained.
Assured that Viola was only over-excited and not injured, I stood up again. As I moved I felt suddenly lightheaded. There was also an odd hollow feeling at my heart. My ears were ringing. I closed my eyes, placed my hand to my solar plexus and took deep breaths. When I looked up I noticed Copper sitting on the floor, the lavender goat nuzzling at her hair affectionately.
I tottered a little as I stood. Viola handed me the vinaigrette and patted my arm in a grandmotherly way, but I wasn’t experiencing the vapors as she had. Whatever I was experiencing it was not from the emotional response that upset the housekeeper. She nodded, encouraging me to inhale the scent. I found that it actually did help. I took it over to Copper, suspecting that whatever had overcome me was also the cause of her discomfort.
“Viola, you must have run to catch up with us,” Cal said. “Whatever was so important?”
“It’s the family. They’ve returned. I wanted to make sure they got to meet your extraordinary guests, but I wanted it to be a surprise for them. So I hurried here, only telling them that I was going to fetch you,” Viola explained. “Then I heard that horrid beast. I’ll never forget that awful day!” she cried, tears leaking from her good eye. “So I ran the rest of the way, fearing for your safety — for all of you.”
When Viola uttered the word “family” Cornelis paled. He looked from me to Copper. “You’re not feeling well,” he said and it was a statement not a question. “They are too close,” he muttered worriedly.
“Who do you mean?” I asked unsteadily. The dizziness was making it hard for me to think.
“Your doppelgängers! They are too close. That’s why you feel ill. A hollow feeling? Dizzy, ears ringing? Am I right?” Cornelis demanded and I nodded apprehensively. “You must not get any closer to your doubles from this world!” he said, including both Copper and me.
At the excitable tones from Cornelis, Absinthe poked his head up from the alchemist’s jacket pocket. The tiny fairy stretched his wings and then fluttered to a long worktable that was covered with charts, maps, and scientific looking implements. The Green Fairy inspected the maps and drawings carefully. He was just as thorough when he began to examine the contrivances scattered across the table.
He was also remarkably silent. Though I’d never heard him utter an actual word, the tiny skunk-looking fae usually muttered, chirped, or grunted most of the time — especially if he was intrigued by something. However, Absinthe seemed quite serious as he investigated the strange implements on the long table.
He stopped abruptly when he came to a gleaming brass sextant. It was beautifully decorated with amethyst cabochons. The navigation instrument was supported by two exquisitely formed gold mermen. The apparatus sat on a wooden base of purple streaked mahogany.
Absinthe checked the sextant closely, finally muttering very quietly. However, he still didn’t seem to be himself. For a moment I wondered if he had a doppelgänger nearby as well. Then the Green Fairy sighed resignedly. He looked up at Cornelis and chirped something that the alchemist seem to understand. They exchanged a sad look.
The Dutchman moved to examine the sextant. He muttered in much the same manner as Absinthe. Finally he nodded. “Yes. This should do the trick,” Cornelis said with a decisive nod.
He turned gravely to Absinthe. “Can you take care of the err… the Purple Fairy?” Cornelis asked the tiny Green Fairy, and Absinthe nodded, again with that sad resigned attitude.
Then with a sharp pop Absinthe disappeared.
“What Purple Fairy?” I wanted to know.
The amethyst ape seemed to grasp the fact that was eluding my dizzy noggin. I struggled to catch up to their thinking, but I felt so woozy. I vaguely remembered the amethyst ape calling the purple people eater a fae — a fairy.
“Oh you don’t mean?” Cal Hicks gasped with a horrified expression.
Viola echoed Cal’s sudden inhalation, putting a hand to her mouth. “No. You can’t mean that very small green creature is going out to confront the giant one eyed one horned flying purple people eater!” the violet chimpanzee housekeeper exclaimed. “Why the poor little thing won’t last a minute. Please! Can’t you call him back?”
Will the doppelgängers of Felicity and Copper come any closer? What will befall our heroines if they do?
Absinthe and Cornelis seemed so sad. Could it mean that the tiny Green Fairy means to sacrifice himself? What will become of Absinthe if he confronts the purple people eater? And what about that sextant — what might it do? Or perhaps I should ask, what kind of trouble can it cause? Be sure to be at the train station next time!
Copyright © 2015 by Teagan Ríordáin Geneviene
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