Hey friends! It’s the first Wednesday of the month, and you know what that means… time to share a chunk of whatever it is we’re working on!

As always, it’s fine if it’s rough. This isn’t a time for group critique — it’s just for sharing.

I did not get as far as I wanted to on book two of my trilogy. However, I added 14,000 words in April, and progress is progress!

My heroine and narrator, Val, is an empath. This unfortunately means she can tell when Tristan  is attracted — even briefly — to someone else. In my excerpt this month, Val and Tristan have just gotten romantically involved, and she’s with him when he runs into someone he’s hooked up with in the past.


“Tristan!” a female voice called out.

We all turned on the stairs to see a woman I didn’t know coming in the front door. She was petite, with delicate features and dark hair piled in a messy bun on her head. Her black tank top and olive utility pants would have identified her as a Knight even if she hadn’t had a gun at her belt. She strode over to say hello.

Ignoring me, she turned her attention and sparkle on Tristan. “You’ve been through a lot since Manila.” Her erotic interest was so strong that it could hardly be lost on anyone.

Tristan gave an affable smile. “We went through a lot then.” His own attraction sparked, like an answer to an animal’s mating call. “How are you, angel?”

My throat tightened and I could feel my ears burning. He had used that endearment with me, more than once.

Goddess, she was pretty, with an easygoing, confident manner. I felt like an overfrilled lump.

“I’ve been good,” she said, her dark eyes laughing, as if at the absurdity of making small talk. “We should catch up later.”

“Yeah, definitely,” Tristan said. “Hey, I don’t think you’ve met my girlfriend. Valentina Vega, this is Angel Cheng, she was at the presidio in Manila.”

Angel. He called her that because that was her name.

And he had called me his girlfriend. Was that what I was? His reflexive attraction to Angel Cheng was already gone—just another blip, like when he first met Javier Cruz.

Her eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t miss a beat. “Salam. It’s nice to meet you.” She did a dead-on impression of warmth, even though she only felt surprise. “Your name sounds familiar.”

“Val’s a Mage at El Dédalo,” Tristan said before I could respond. “She does debriefings.” Pride mingled with his warmth and, yes, attraction toward me. We all talked about the information I had garnered from the dying man, and about our assignment at the Catholic high school.

It would hardly be the last time I would meet someone that Tristan had slept with. For that matter, I was on friendly terms with a few of them at El Dédalo.

Should I talk to Tristan about this later?

No. Why make things difficult? He scarcely seemed aware it was happening, himself. It wasn’t his fault that he had gotten involved with someone who could feel everything that lay beneath the surface, so that an unremarkable encounter put her through the drama of a three-act play.



I expect to add a little more to this story this month. My writing goal for May, though, is to do another revision of my Southern gothic romance novella, which goes to a copy editor June 1.

If you feel like it, please share some of what you’re working on… or your goal for May, or both. Thanks so much for stopping by, and happy writing!