New release sample: DAWN OF THE LIVING PROOF

 By that time, Pop had come in, stomping snow off his boots. Considering my driveway and the backyard had been shoveled clean, that meant he had been walking around the house, examining the scene of the doppelganger's mad scramble to get away from Kurt and Jane.

Maurice flew into the living room and did something. From where I was sitting, I could see him flying back and forth across the front door, up and down, diagonally. He never tried to open the door, but he must have found out something, because he was scowling when he came back into the kitchen and got close enough I could see his face. A head less than an inch tall didn't really reveal much detail until he was nearly up to my nose.

"You got glowing streaks in the air, going around the house," Pop reported, once he had hung up his coat and pried off his boots. "I don't think ordinary eyes can see it, but ever since last summer, I can kind of squint and see things." He shrugged. "What's weird is the lack of footprints, except where it looks like something had a wrestling match for a few seconds."

"What did you see on the front door?" I asked Maurice.

"Something was trying to get in." He shook his head and stomped across the table to the doll-sized table and beanbag chair I kept on hand for when he visited. All the plastic Barbie-style furniture wasn't very comfortable. "There were fingerprints or whatever all around the frame, and along the walls, like it was trying to ooze through but couldn't find a hole. What's really weird is there is no energy, no magic keeping anything out. Unless your really good construction and insulation works against spookies like they work against bugs and weather."

"Nothing you can sense," Angela gently corrected him. "Whatever this thing is, it seems to obey certain ancient protocols … which still doesn't seem to help us identify it."

"Kurt and Jane are chasing it. Maybe they'll find out some things to help us," I said.

"Okay, honey, what happened?" Pop picked up the carafe of tea now that the coffeemaker had finished brewing, and brought it over to the table.

New release sample: DAWN OF THE LIVING PROOF

 

Mum let me get off the phone. I barely remembered to flip the locks on the back door before I tottered over to the refrigerator. And then I drank straight from the jug. I didn't care that I spilled a few drops of chocolate milk on my shirt. Mopping up those dribbles made me aware once again I was in my summer-weight pajamas. The ones with worn thin spots that were fine when it was just all girls, but it wasn't just my parents coming to check on me. Besides, Kurt and Jane would come back as soon as they finished dealing with the doppelganger.

Maybe I should be worried, the longer it took them to come back?

I snagged my big, fluffy red robe and slippers. My feet were cold, too. I put water in the coffeemaker, to brew up some of Pop's special recipe tea, and I was pulling all sorts of treats out of the cupboards when the back door opened. Mum and Angela led the way. Holly was behind them. Maurice leaped off her shoulder, out from under her fluffy scarf, and zipped around the kitchen before coming to hover in front of me.

"You okay, kiddo?" He looked me up and down, eyebrows rising as he looked at my legs. I was standing up, but more leaning on the counter than really standing. It was the only way I could reach the shelves where I had stashed the really good homemade goodies. Starting with those deluxe oatmeal cream pies.

I shrugged. I wasn't about to admit that his reaction to seeing me on my feet, when he knew I was starting to get my legs back, was a little more reassuring than was good for me. The doppelganger hadn't reacted at all. Did that mean it knew my legs were coming back, or the doppelganger just didn't know me well enough, or didn't notice enough details to wonder? 

"Here, let me do that." Angela gently but firmly shoved me back down into my wheelchair, which I had had the sense to get and bring into the kitchen. She and Mum bustled around the kitchen, bringing out cups and plates and putting the containers of goodies I indicated on the table.

New release sample: DAWN OF THE LIVING PROOF

 "What happened?" Mum demanded, before I finished saying hello.

"The doppelganger showed up here. Kurt and Jane chased it. They're still chasing it, as far as I know."

In the background, as she repeated what I had just said, I heard the grumble of the trusty old VW minibus that had been old when Mum and Pop adopted me.

"We saw something, but we didn't know what it was, too much light, too much warping."

"How?" I aimed myself for the refrigerator. The spikes in my temples needed a good dose of chocolate milk before they got any deeper and met up with the corkscrew aching sensation coming up through my stomach.

"We went back to Divine's with Angela and Maurice and Holly, to talk." Mum sighed. "And see if there was anything we could find in some of those very esoteric books she keeps locked up. Angela and I both got a feeling that something was wrong with you. Maurice persuaded the Wishing Ball to show us what was happening. There was a figure in your doorway and -- Lanie, why did you open the door?"

"It couldn't get in. It needed me to let it in." I nearly laughed as I realized what had happened. It really was like in the rules laid down by Buffy: vampires can't get in where they aren't welcome. The doppelganger had gone right through the fence and those cars, but couldn't get into my house … because I hadn't welcomed it or invited it in. "Where are you?"

"We're about to turn into your neighborhood."

"Okay, let me pull out supplies for a long talk. I really need to get off my feet. The back door's open."

New release sample: DAWN OF THE LIVING PROOF

 

Kurt and Jane sped after it, joining hands a second before they vanished, enclosed by the Ghost field. I stood there long enough the cold air through the screen door penetrated my pajamas. My shivering combined with my wobbling knees and aching feet and tired thighs to send me sliding down the frame of the door to the floor. Real good.

I scooted back away from the door far enough to shove it closed with my mind. That kind of hurt, meaning my mental punch to the doppelganger took a lot more energy than I intended. I got up onto my knees enough to flip the light switch and got the door locked again. Then I sagged back against the wall to catch my breath.

Okay, I was on the floor in the living room. My options were to crawl to the kitchen, where I could pull myself up and navigate by holding onto chairs and counters. That made sense to me, because I was going to need to chow down on something before my reaction headache hit. Best bet was chocolate milk and trail mix, and then those to-die-for treats Jane and Felicity and Holly and I had created when we were goofing around a week ago. Little Debbie oatmeal cream pies, sandwiched together with peanut butter, dipped in melted chocolate.

And why was I sitting there, thinking about food, when I should be getting into the kitchen before my head started throbbing and my stomach clenched so tightly I couldn't move for the cramps? 

I went on my hands and knees. Not as bad as I had feared. I got into the kitchen and pulled myself up by holding onto the closest chair. I was slightly out of breath and fighting a little vertigo, which worried me, when my phone rang. I nearly burst into tears when I saw the call was from Mum. That told me more clearly than my shaking legs and aching head that I had really strained myself with that doppelganger.

New release sample: DAWN OF THE LIVING PROOF

 "Mal -- what?" He grinned. Definitely not Daniel. The real Daniel would understand that word, and the implications.

Really, what more proof did I need?

And still this thing looked at me and didn't react to me being on my own two feet. Which were getting kind of achy. So was this a different doppelganger? Or didn't he notice I was sitting in a wheelchair when he planted himself next to me at our table at the party less than three hours ago?

"Hey, a little help here!" I shoved hard with my mind.

I was half afraid my telekinetic fist would go right through the doppelganger, but to my great satisfaction, he went flying off the front step and out into the snow with a satisfying ooph, wide-eyed and stunned. The black light effect flared and shot off crackles of static and sparks before dropping back to its starting levels.

Kurt and Jane stepped out of a slit in the air. They also hovered about two feet above the top of the snow drifts.

Doppelganger Daniel scrambled backward in the snow for a few feet. It was more than a foot deep, because hey, I never used the front door. The mailbox was on the side of the house, so brother Harry never shoveled the front sidewalk. Come to think of it … I looked in the last of the fading black light streaks, and there were no footprints leading up to my front door.

"The thing teleports or whatever. It didn't walk here," I called out, as Kurt and Jane split up to perform their pincer move on the doppelganger as it struggled to its feet.

"What do you want?" Kurt spread his arms.

Jane mirrored him. Swirls of light radiated out from their hands and spun around, forming a sphere around the melting thing that no longer looked like Daniel. Kind of gross, but nothing like the melting wax figures they used in the opening-the-Ark-and-creating-chaos scene from Raiders of the Lost Ark. 

It made little squawking noises, then sort of flattened and slid sideways, shooting off a cascade of fractured, dirty-looking light as the walls of the Ghost field squeezed it. Too late. It flared, more ugly black light special effects, and sped across the yard. Through the snow fence the Mulcahys put up next door. Out into the street. Through four cars. Then vanished from sight, leaving streaks of red light behind it.

New release sample: DAWN OF THE LIVING PROOF

 

I wiped my suddenly sweaty hands on my pants. Oh, yeah, I was in my pajamas. I didn't want Daniel to see me dressed like this. Besides, why would he come at nearly 3am? Why would he use the front door? He had always used the kitchen door, from the very first time he came to my house.

Proof he wasn't Daniel? Kind of a relief … Still, opening it to the doppelganger wasn't very smart, either. Then I looked down at my legs again. I was standing up. The reaction of whichever Daniel was at the door would clarify who he was. Besides, Kurt and Jane were probably hovering --

My phone pinged, as if he heard my thoughts.

Here. Did you know Daniel glows in the dark?

Duh. Not him.

Plan?

Pincer move? Get ready.

I took the last few steps to the door. My knees wobbled. Too much time standing, and I didn't note when I got up, so I didn't know if my upright-on-my-own-feet-again time was increasing. I winced as I hit the light switch next to the door, fearing I would hit the wrong one of the three. One switch for the light outside, one for directly over the door inside, and another light at the other end of the room. Like I said before, we never used the front door. Which should have been proof enough whoever was there wasn't Daniel. So did the doppelganger glow because Kurt and Jane saw it through the Ghost field?

Taking a deep breath, I flipped the deadbolt and yanked hard to pull the door open. It stuck -- because, hey, never used -- and groaned as I pulled it open.

Daniel grinned at me and reached for the screen door handle.

He glowed, an odd, black light sort of effect, like when dead Obi-Wan showed up to talk to Luke. Or Bob Newhart as Professor Proton talked to Sheldon, much against his will. Professor Proton, not Sheldon.

Off the Bookshelf: THE IDEA, by Erik Bork

 

Writing Book

I heard about this book listening to the Story Blender, a podcast by Steven James.

The subtitle is: The Seven Elements of a Viable Story for Screen, Stage, or Fiction

Each chapter devoted to the elements has a checklist to go through, to see if you're providing the element, meeting the criteria for making your script or book the best it can be. Translation: the most salable, readable, watchable product for the producer or publisher to support.

A sample from the Table of Contents: 

Chapter 1: Focus on the idea. The 60/30/10 Rule, The Problem, How "High" is Your Concept? and Nailing the Logline. 

Chapter 2: Punishing. Degree of Difficulty, Great Stories Are Like Great Games, Adapting True Stories, Television and the "Web of Conflict."

On and on. Intense. This is one of those books I'm going to have to read several times to get everything out of it, and refresh what I've learned in my mind, so I can apply it to the brainstorming and revising process.

Glad I bought it, and definitely keeping in my library.

New release sample: DAWN OF THE LIVING PROOF

  

My doorbell rang. That freaked me out, because nobody ever used the doorbell. I only had a doorbell on the front door, and the only people who used it were people I didn't know. Why would a stranger be ringing my doorbell at nearly 3am on New Year's Day? My office window was on the back of the house, my blinds and curtains were down to block out the cold radiating through the glass, and there no lights on to let anyone know I was home or awake.

"Is something out there?" I asked, when the two AI's just blinked at me.

"I can't really … tell," London said after a pause that felt way too long for me. "We'll have to get back to you." The screen blanked, and for a second I had to fight down a sense of being abandoned.

My legs started aching and jerking, with those near-cramps that I could only deal with if I got up and walked around. I jerked myself up out of my wheelchair, and suddenly I got a freaky, stupid, nasty idea. I snatched up my phone from the side table where it was charging and unplugged it. As I walked, carefully, out of my office and aimed for the front door, I texted Kurt. Just in case whoever was outside had really sharp ears and could hear any conversations going on inside. Which might mean it heard what London and Sherwood and I had been discussing.

Something or someone at my door. How close are you?

By the time I got down the hall and turned to cut through the living room, my phone pinged.

Over the schools.

Knowing how Kurt and Jane could go near-sonic speeds in the Ghost field, they were probably over my house by the time I took five steps. Granted, my steps were really slow. I put my phone in my pocket, mentally shrugging as I realized I was in summer-weight pajamas and about to open my door to frigid temperatures. I paused to study the silhouette visible in the little porthole window of the front door. There were no lights on behind me. Not even the nightlight in the fan over the stove. That had burned out two weeks ago, and I had been too busy preparing for a full blow-out family Christmas to deal with things like replacing the bulb.

The enemy couldn't see me. Unless he could see through solid objects, and then the gig was up anyway.

 Another knock. Then a voice that sounded like Daniel called through the door, "Lanie? Are you okay? I'm pretty sure you aren't able to get to bed after all that weirdness." He laughed, and it was Daniel's laugh.

His normal laugh. Not the ragged, kind of awkward laugh he had been using the last few weeks.

The real Daniel would know that I couldn't sleep for all the ideas swirling through my head after what happened at Eden.

Right now, I was kind of hoping Daniel was at the door. Maybe we could finally have some privacy to discuss things, like why he couldn't seem to look me in the eye lately, or make jokes, and why he kept on the other side of the room during our Star Trek club Christmas party.

New release sample: DAWN OF THE LIVING PROOF

 

So it was a good thing I still wasn't asleep at 2:45am, working on my next Talk to Terry column, when London took over my computer screen to report in. She apologized for not recognizing that the lack of change in the energy filling Neighborlee over the holidays was actually a danger sign.

"Come again?" I wondered for a moment or two if I had fallen asleep and was dreaming this report.

"We should have gotten surges of energy from all the high holiday spirits and good will spilling into town from about Thanksgiving onward. There was a slight rise. Enough to make us think everything was fine. We should have realized the energy bubbles should have been a lot higher and stronger. Meaning something was draining that extra energy all the visitors and shoppers and holiday activities have brought into town."

"And with the big surge of excitement from New Year's, whatever happened when the doppelganger came into the party and masqueraded as Daniel … it was covered up?" I guessed.

Yeah, I had been reading some of the right science fiction books, but obviously not all, or not enough.

"Basically. We're tracking down its footprints, its energy signature. We think we've found one weak spot where it slipped through the defensive shield."

"So it came from outside?" That little bit of news gave me a jolt of energy. I was not going to bed any time soon.

"Looks like it."

"And it hasn't slithered out again," Sherwood reported, as my computer screen split in two to let him show up. "At least, as far as we can tell." 

"So what's it doing? Who is it masquerading as and who is it bothering right --"

Off the Bookshelf: GILDED, by Marissa Meyer

 

Marissa Meyer comes through with another revision of a familiar faerie tale.

This time it's Rumpelstiltskin.

Sort of.

We have the miller's daughter and the lie that she can spin straw into gold, but the king who requires the feat is uber evil. In fact, not even human. And the offer of the firstborn child in payment for help is made to the gold spinner, rather than a demand coming from him.

And then there's the whole intricate tapestry of the dark, twisted, nightmare side of faerie tales that most of us don't hear, even if we devoured all the grim Brothers Grimm stories.

Whew! Worth the wild ride (even if it involves the Wild Hunt), rich with detail and heartache and humor ... but buckle your seatbelt and brace against whiplash, when the book comes to a sudden stop even though the story itself is nowhere near completion. Yep, there's got to be another book, hopefully coming soon, because the fate of Serilda the miller's daughter is nowhere near set in stone, even if it's so achingly grim and hopeless.

Can I hear a "wow" from the peanut gallery?

New Book Releasing TODAY!

 

New from Ye Olde Dragon Books

Just when the guardians of Neighborlee believe they can relax and enjoy the results of their labors, a new enemy makes a strike, aiming at some newcomers who have come to town seeking shelter. Is this another, roundabout attempt to break down the defensive shield around the town, or a more sinister plot?

 

Are the attacks aimed ultimately at Angela?

 

Clues indicate this isn't a new enemy at all, but an old enemy making another attempt to get a foothold in Neighborlee and perhaps steal not just magic, but break open the gates that Divine's Emporium and Angela keep securely closed.

 

What type of magic is this that seems to be active only at night, and disintegrates with the coming of dawn?

Available in Paper, Ebook and Audio!