It’s Me Me Monday! Time to promote, strut, and celebrate your Me-ness!
Peter is still trying to figure out his own around the Navel in the next part of Unwilling to Be Yours, which is indeed a bizarre place. He picks up where he left off on Saturday, getting used to his new job as Damian’s replacement.
Unwilling to Be Yours is the second prelude to Stealing Myself From Shadows, my novel under revision.
Stealing Myself From Shadows is the first book in my Tales of the Navel/The Shadow Forest series.
Like the large doll with amber curls, slumped over one of the skulls. I had no idea where she’d come from.
“Don’t worry about it.” ‘Brie waved her hand with a complete lack of concern. “If she’s on the shelf, she’s meant to be there.”
A most enigmatic sentence. Gabrielle had a collection of them, ready to include anything odd which might appear in her center of all things bizarre.
Not that this oddness was limited to the Navel’s wares.
A large woman brought the boxes to the store. She didn’t drive a truck, or even a waggon for that matter. I half expected her to in this place.
No, she’d stride up out of the early morning mists which gathered on the main street of Omphalos, carrying the box. Bare biceps would be quivering with tension from lifting them with a strength any muscle man would envy.
If I looked closely at her, I could see wrinkles lining every inch of her skin. They weren’t the marks of age. They resembled the grooves in tree bark. Not that I was sure of this. If I stared at her naked arms for too long, the wrinkles would vanish.
This wasn’t the only odd thing about the delivery woman. Sometimes her skin looked greenish in the right light.
She’d catch me staring only to fix her eyes upon me. For one moment, they’d appear slitted and yellow.
She’d smile, showing a hint of sharp fang.
I’d blink, only to find her warm, brown eyes, gleaming with an amber light, lips curving in a mischievous smile.
Perhaps I was seeing things.