Oh, but did I sleep really well. I crashed out early, and didn’t awake until right around 5 AM, which was a half hour ago. Still have my cough, but I’m hoping the rest and the good feelings I’m having will get rid of soon, along with the plugged up right ear I’ve had since the first of the month.
There are just some things you shouldn’t have to live through.
I finished Chapter Fifteen of Her Demonic Majesty last night, and felt pretty good about it. Very good about it, in fact. That chapter is one of my favorite throughout the whole novel, because it’s the point where Jeannette not only begins to put pieces together for herself, but, when confronted with why things are working out for her, realizes what is holding her back. Once she realizes, she gives a smirking minion–yes, I can use that term–a quote from The Stars My Destination, then turns him inside out. No, literally: she pulls his insides out through his mouth and anus, and kills him in a matter of seconds.
My ladies don’t mess around when you’re screwing with them.
But, right before that . . . funny thing when I was putting this novel together. It was the first time I decided to go all-in with Scrivener, and that I’d write the entire novel using the Windows beta version, so I had a few weeks to play with it before NaNo hit us hard. I was playing with the Name Generator in Scrivener (Tools>Writing Tools>Name Generator) and was popping out names. And when I decided it was time for a name for this minion, I hit the button, and one of the first names that came up was . . . Anakin. Really. It was fate that this guy would be known by the name Anakin Florey, and that he was going to suffer.
On Facebook I mentioned that his name allowed my main character Jeannette to get off a good line at his expense, and my friend Zoé said she wanted to see that line. Vos désirs sont des ordres, Madame. So, without further ado–and a warning that the next section is going to have some naughty language in it–here is an excerpt from Chapter Fifteen of Her Demonic Majesty, copyright 2011, 2012, by Raymond Frazee, all rights reserved.
Jeannette’s vision was nearly back to normal. She saw the man slap a short black woman across the chest. “Find Klass and tell him to contact Vena. Tell him we found something—” He grabbed her arm roughly as she turned to leave. “But don’t tell him what; give the message exactly as I told you.” Once the girl was out of the room he said in a much softer voice, “I want to see the look on Alek’s face when I hand this one over.” With that he leaned over Jeannette—
She kicked up and planted her booted foot squarely in his groin, then rolled backward and stood. For the first time Jeannette was thankful for Merta’s long, well-toned legs, ‘cause she wasn’t all that certain she’d have pulled off the same move with her old body. It also helped that this clown thought I was still out of it—
Jeannette chided the man now backing into the door while clutching his groin. “Did that hurt?” she asked in a mocking tone. “It looked painful.”
“Fucking whore!” the man said, hissing the words between clenched teeth. “I’m going to . . . you’ll . . .”
Jeannette snorted, feeling an incredible bravado coursing through her. If I’m going to die, I’m going taunt this asshole so he’ll pay attention to me, and give Diana time to come to and do something. And if she doesn’t deal with him . . . maybe she can heal and get out of here with the goods. “What are you going to do, huh?” She grinned wildly. “Attack me while clutching your throbbing balls?”
“Yeah, you already said that . . .” Then Jeannette remembered what the woman had called him. “Wait a minute: Anakin? Anakin?” Laughing loudly, she said, “Holy shit, you must be biggest, whiniest asshole in existence in this universe!” Jeannette crossed her arms, cocking her weight to one side. “Whaddaya do to get this gig? Go out and murder everyone aboard a train, and then piss and moan to your girlfriend that no one understands you?”
Anakin Florey couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “What in shit’s name are you talking about?” he screamed. “You’re fucking nuts, bitch!”
Jeannette backed up until she felt the far wall behind. She reached behind and pulled the door to the library closed. “Oh, you got no idea,” she said. Walking slowly towards Anakin, Jeannette lifted her hands waist high and began wiggling her fingers. “Come on, Ani: lets see you bring it.” She stopped and placed her hands on her hips. “It’s the only chance you’re going to get.”
The effect Jeannette was hoping for was taking hold: Anakin was not only hurt from the attack, but he was extremely pissed off. Those two things together meant he wasn’t thinking straight. Speaking through clenched teeth, he said, “Your ass was almost gone down on Lower Michigan—”
“Yeah, but it wasn’t,” Jeannette said. “Least of all not because of you, loser.”
Anakin clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles were turning bone white. “I was there!” he yelled. “I was there to take you down!”
“But you didn’t!” Even though she knew there was a good chance she was going to die, Jeannette was enjoying herself. How often can someone say they actually got to pick on some asshole named Anakin? she thought. “None of you did! That’s why I’m back in da house, shithead! Back here, Ani! Because you guys are all a bunch of . . . fucking . . . losers!”
From there it ends in tears. Which is probably for the best . . .
But there is other news–because, finally, I’ve gotten off of whatever funk was holding my ass down, and started putting together a query letter for Couples Dance. Yes, I know, I’ve been whining about this for over a month, that I was going to get a letter out and all that jazz, but something has really been kicking my butt hard, and it’s been holding me down for about a month now. Some Muse told me this a couple of weeks back, but I was like, “I don’t think so.” Yeah, now I think so. Now I think I’m moving forward again–
I have the letter; I am filling it out; and it’s going out. Really. No bullshit this time. You’ll see the update on my author’s page on Facebook.
I’m getting ahead of the curve again. It’s not going to be like my dreams last night, of wandering around in abandoned buildings searching for something. I gotta go for what’s mine, and get it.
The past is over. Ain’t got nothing but future ahead of me.
So time to enjoy that sucker.