Goals, Shelves, and Fantasy

12:00 AM Elizabeth Seckman 17 Comments

Misha Gericke and Beth Fred host the monthly goal update. You can sign up and track your progress by clicking the magic bar under their names.

My goal for the year was to publish two books in a year. Not looking real good for this year, but the goal is still a good one, so I will keep trying to hit the mark.

Defying Reason: 1st draft is done. Got some plot things that need fixed, so letting it cool while I work on getting another book drafted out.
Hoosier Daddy: I'm somewhere in the middle of this story and keep hitting walls. Ugh. Walls?! Why can't you just be doors?
Flip My Heart: Drafted out, but is desperate need of a plot overhaul. Will probably only keep the concept and characters. 
Cherries: Oh my, I see walls again!

Don't forget the Shelfie Blogfest! Here's the fabulous Tara Tyler with one of her shelfies. I must say, she has some mighty good taste in books ;)

Check out the other shelfie shots floating around the web!
                             
Ellie Garrett

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Bored, Katia ventured to a staircase and climbed down, down, down. Her legs cramped up again, and she balanced on one leg, pulling the other leg's ankle to her butt to stretch out her quad. As she switched legs, her balance decided to take a hike, and she stumbled down the stairs. Her head cracked against something wicked hard, and she closed her eyes. Strong hands touched her, helping her to her feet. "Tony?" she murmured, opening her eyes. A man she had never seen before shook his head, his wispy sideburns not moving. He gave her a puzzled glance as he released her elbow and stepped back to bow. "I am not this Tony, my lady. I am Lord Landon Philamore." He straightened, and his eyes flickered over her so quickly she thought she was mistaken. Wait—those eyes. She had seen them before. In her dream. She shook her head and winced. A knot was already forming, and she rubbed it gingerly. "You're hurt." Without touching her, he still managed to propel her forward into a seat. They were in some kind of living room, with three couches, two chairs, and a roaring fireplace. Roaring fireplace? But it was summer! "Where is Tony?" she asked, glad her voice did not tremble. The man narrowed his strangely colored eyes ever so slightly. Maybe he wasn't used to women talking to him in such a tone, but she didn't care. "There is no one here by the name of Tony." She opened her mouth, but he held up his hand before clasping both of his behind his back. "And it should be I who is asking the questions. Who are you and why are you in my mansion?" "Your mansion?" The guy was delusional. Or maybe she was dreaming again. But the pain, the throbbing… She resisted the urge to pinch herself. A masochist she was not. She stood, intent on walking over to the window to look out, when a wave of dizziness washed over her. "Sit," he commanded, but his voice had softened. A small degree. "You are not well… Lady…" Lady? Did she look like a lady to him? She glanced down at her clothes, relief flooding her at seeing her sundress, although even more wrinkles had been gained from the tumble down the stairs. Normally she wasn't such a klutz. When she looked at him again, pink colored his cheeks. "Did you just check me out again?" she demanded. "Check you out?" His puzzlement seemed genuine as his dark eyebrows drew together. "I assure you, my lady, I do not know what you are referring to."