Happy Thanksgiving (early) to my American friends. May you all enjoy copious amounts of turkey, cranberry sauce and pumpkin pie (a personal favorite of mine). Before I run off to visit the family, more news to share:

  • The very talented Sir Tiefling has created a wonderful concept portrait of Alexis Solovy. Check it out here:

  • New blog post: Rules Are Made to be Broken...Except When They're Not

  • Starshine Part III draft is complete! I realize that may seem a little fast, but the truth is I've had rough drafts for much of Part III written for quite a while. Inspiration for this arc struck early. Here's a little no-context spoiler-free (even more difficult now) excerpt:

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A heavy, damp fog blanketed the air as far as the eye could see. Which, given that it was nearly 0200 and the aforementioned fog, wasn’t particularly far. The street lights gave the fog a washed-out pink glow and created an aura of eerie otherworldliness.

Alex felt the moisture condensing on the fine hairs of her arms. It was cold as hell, but she had needed to dress the part. A deep crimson camisole woven with fine optic fibers draped to her navel; the black leather pants hung low on her hips.

She quickened her pace, and not merely because of the chill. It was even later now and she still had a lot to do.

The club was almost to the beach, and she could hear the surf crashing against the shore. It brought back memories…memories she didn’t have time to indulge. She found the unmarked door beneath one of the refabbed Victorian row houses.

The music assaulted her ears while she was still descending the stairs. Pure synth, no beat, no lyrics, just a pulsing wave of complex tonals designed to soothe the mind and body into a state of open relaxation. It was warmer at least, though she suspected it would soon feel too humid as a result.

The warehouse space appeared pitch black save for vague shadows of people and the neon painted sensory address hanging in the air. With a sigh she accessed it; she’d never find her way through in the dark.

The overlay shimmered to life. Stars appeared beneath her feet, the cool glow of a pale green nebula in the space around her. A triple star system spun above her, comets dancing merrily amongst it in concentric orbits.

She wouldn’t spoil everyone’s fun, but even a full-sensory overlay didn’t come close to matching the real thing.

Alex. The prodigal daughter returns. You can find me on the balcony.

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