A writer's muse is a curious thing.
It lays dormant when time to write abounds and springs up at the most inconvenient times.
Side note: KDP is rejecting the cover for the second installment of Before the Blood, so I have to call today to see if the spine needs to be a little larger as we can't figure out the issue, although cover size seems to be the issue.
Still, now that Before the Blood is, essentially done (except for copyediting, formatting, and KDP snags), I'm looking at the next three projects: a Bertrand the Mouse story for early readers, the third book in the Adventures of Cornell Dyer chapter book series, and my werewolf story.
Second side note: The werewolf story is part of the BryonySeries, but except for its setting (the tourist town of Shelby), which anchors the story to the series, there's no other connection (or crossover characters).
I have a list of sight words for Bertrand that's simmering in my brain. I'm supposedly having a planning breakfast with Timothy on Saturday for Cornell. And I've done some playing around with character development and story imaginings for the werewolf story.
Last night, just as I settled into bed later than I wished the back cover copy for the latter (call Lycanthropic Summer) sprang into my head.
I may still tweak it, but this is the essence:
Caryn Rochelle loves werewolf tales and promised herself
she would write the world's greatest werewolf love story before her eighteenth
birthday. But with the date just months away, Caryn has shredded more drafts
than she's kept and is feeling desperate.
But then she learns the town's most prestigious couple has a
dark secret: they're keeping a savage boy about her age locked in their
basement. One glimpse, and Caryn's inspiration skyrockets. She knows she
ought to report them, but...
Can it really hurt to wait until she finishes her story?
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