On Writing & Publishing by Robin D. Owens

Personal notes on writing techniques, writing a novel, my writing career and threading your way through publishing a book.

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Location: Denver, United States

RITA Award Winning Author -- that's like the Oscar, folks! Futuristic/Fantasy Romance and Fantasy with Romantic Subplots.

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Thursday, May 14, 2015

Celta Thursday: Cut from Heart Thief

Celta Thursday, cut from Heart Thief: An alarm pealed. Ruis dropped the plans he was studying onto his desk and shot to his feet, then grabbed the back of the chair to steady himself. "Ship, what's wrong?"
"Transmission from T'Elder GreatHouse requesting help from Ruis Elder, FirstSon and Heir to T'Elder GreatHouse."
"Just tell me what's wrong!" Ruis strode to his bedroom and grabbed Celtan clothes, pulling them on.
"Elder Residence states imminent destruction of the HouseHeart by the current T'Elder."
Ruis jolted and his mouth dried. Even he, never allowed in the sacred T'Elder HouseHeart that he could remember, valued it. Something inherent in his very genes.
Ruis cursed. He should have anticipated this action by Bucus. They all should have thought of this. His uncle was just the mean type to destroy what he couldn't have.
Why hadn't he thought! Because he'd been stunned by his own rapidly changing fortunes, appointed Captain of Nuada's Sword, reinstated as the FirstSon and Heir to the T'Elder Family. He dragged on his boots.
"Connect me with T'Elder Residence," he commanded.
"The line -- ah, scry -- is open." Ship had been diligently amending its language to fit Celtan norms.
"T'Elder Residence, this is FirstSon Ruis!" The first time he'd ever said that aloud. He'd have savored the moment if he hadn't been so worried.
"Greetyou, FirstSon." T'Elder Residence's voice was wispy and strained. "We are conflicted. The present T'Elder approaches the HouseHeart with weapons--"
"Stop! As FirstSon and Heir, I order you to take all action to protect the HouseHeart and yourself, T'Elder Residence!" Ruis shouted.
"Thank you," the Residence sounded relieved.
"I'm on my way," Ruis said. "Detain the present T'Elder by any means possible."
"Noted. Thank you," T'Elder Residence repeated.
"Ship, what transport do we have?" asked Ruis.
"We have 'bots fitting a faster motor onto the xx as we speak. It is being prepared in the southern docking bay."
Ruis started to run. As his feet pounded down the hallways of he smiled. He was Ruis T'Elder, Captain of Nuada's Sword and experienced in command, and he was glad. T'Elder Residence needed him, him, the despised Null. And he could help.
He ran faster and grinned at the thought of getting his hands on his Uncle Bucus.
When he reached the docking bay, the transport was revving and the doors opened to the cold night. Ruis vaulted onto the xx, winced at the clumsy vehicle. "Go, as fast as possible to T'Elder Residence."
"The transport** has the coordinates." Ship said. There was a small pause, but as Ruis zoomed out of Nuada's Sword, he thought he heard it say. "Merry meet."
"Merry part!" He turned back to shout.
"And merry meet again," Ship boomed.
Ruis faced forward again and rubbed his hands, then flexed his fingers in and out of fists.
Note, I completely forgot I'd written this.


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