Tag Archives: #NaNoWriMo2015

NaNoWriMo is Beating the Stuffing Out of Me

13 Friday Nov 2015

Posted by in Book Reviews, NaNoWriMo, Reviews, Writing

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Incubus Kiss 7

I think I’ve blogged before on how incredibly, easily, inevitably my wandering mind gets the best of me. Writing, before I started my first year of NaNoWriMo and got used to sitting down and putting things to the page, was torture. It was beyond “Look, there’s a squirrel”.

This year I won a class from Margie Lawson’s online academy on writing,  then signed up for two Kiss of Death Coffin classes in the same month. Then signed up for NaNoWriMo 2015. And then my first traditionally published work debuted on November 6. It was a perfect storm.

Margie Lawson’s classes are fabulous. I’d taken a mini course on dialog from her at the Northwest Houston Romance Writers of America fall conference and was hooked. That’s when I won the free class. I was doing the yippee, skippee happy dance. The dialog class made dialog tags more evident for me, and now I’m doing deep point of view.

The reason I’m rattling on about this is that my NaNoWriMo project on a hot incubus demon is behind. The work is behind, not the gorgeous behind of the incubus. Which is beautiful, by the way. As is the rest of him…  Where was I?

So NaNoWriMo is beating the stuffing out of me, but it’s my fault. I got about 3,300 words to paper yesterday, then my dear friend Patti MacDonald reminded us that we’re 40% through November. I may not make it to the finish line this year.

My Incubus want’s his love story told, his lady love wants him out of her life, and the clock’s ticking. Back to work.

My #NaNoWriMo2015 Project, Incubus Kiss

01 Sunday Nov 2015

Posted by in Paranormal Works, Writing

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Copyright Tabitha Bishop 2015

Copyright Tabitha Bishop 2015

Milicente McTernan had lived on the edge of the supernatural world as a lifelong resident of  a small, strange town named Leesbourough, Louisiana. The veil there between real and supernatural worlds was insubstantial and permeable. When her husband, Terry, died after a long and agonizing illness, Mili clung to the familiar while she rebuilt her life.

Into her dreams slipped a beautiful demon, an incubus, whose nocturnal visits were erotic, terrifyingly intense, satisfying, and addictive. She was never allowed to see her demon lover, but by chance one night she glimpsed a man fleeing from her room: Anthony McAllen. The parish coroner, funeral home director, and the undertaker who’d been in her home once, just once before, to collect Terry’s body.

Anthony had some explaining to do, and Mili would not relent until he did, or she died.

My NaNoWriMo Project, Incubus Kiss.

“In our tiny city, the local funeral home undertaker doubled as the parish coroner. Anthony McAllen was summoned by the hospice nurse and had arrived not long after my husband drew his very last gasp of air. Someone had met McAllen at the door, brought him through my house to the master bedroom. The Undertaker was tall and muscular, coal black hair, ivory skin unmottled by sun or age, and his eyes were an unnatural color blue. The palest blue I ever saw in humans.

His voice was a rich baritone and hushed. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Mrs. McTernan.” He held my hand lightly, and it was pleasantly warm, a comforting warm, unlike my husband’s skin.

I looked into his eyes, which were seemingly the height of compassion and consideration and was struck dumb for words. We’d never crossed paths other than a nod or two at wakes or funerals. I was just enough superstitious Irish to avoid people in the funeral trade like Mr. McAllen. He was beyond the word handsome, which was a generic  adjective, so overused and abused. No, there was something almost unhuman-like beautiful about his eyes, his face.

A momentary pause. He waited patiently, still holding my hand, and I slowly withdrew it, suddenly aware of how much time had passed.“