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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Tuesday, October 16, 2018

Story: Avellana S.... (serial)

New Celta partial-story posting here, starting today....I'd planned on doing this every day I was away but the trip (and afterwards) turned out to be challenging. I cut the last couple of scenes of Heart Sight. When I rework the story I'm posting now, I'll work on WHEN I want to set it. (And I know the first line set-up is clunky, but I want to get this going): Avellana S(....): After the Loyalty Ceremony as D’Vine and T’Vine, as soon as she had acknowledged each and every Vine, hopefully committed their name and vocation to her memory, Muin whisked her away without another word to his public round tower, through that to his tall and completely personal rectangular tower.

And once she reached there, she put her hands over her face. “I . . . I can not.”

He set his arms around her loosely, supporting, not constraining. “Can’t stay here?”


“Where do you want to go? Multiplicity?”

Before she could answer, the sonorous voice of T’Vine Residence, the huge castle, rolled through the chamber where they stood. “I can reopen the Hopeful Chapel.”

Muin gasped, a surprised squeal escaped Avellana. Her hand shot toward Muin’s so they could twine fingers. They did and they squeezed and hung on tightly to each other.

“I had no idea we had a Hopeful Chapel,” Muin said.

“Our founders constructed a total of four chapels reflecting the religions at that time, including one dedicated to the Intersection of Hope.” A pause. “But it has never been used. It is in the wing to the north, on the second floor, adjacent to the north round tower.”

“I am humbled and grateful,” Avellana said, let those feelings flow from her through the bonds to the Vine Family and the Residence. “But I would prefer the consecration of the chapel to be renewed by my current Chief Ministers.” She inhaled, let her breath wisp out. “I . . . yearn . . . to visit the cathedral.”

“Now?” Muin asked..



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