#more books
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I'm writing a new book about angels and demons and the humans who have to deal with them because I want to and nobody can stop me. Here's the first chapter, which is pretty short. I have written this just now on my phone so live with any typos. There's no WIP intro. I haven't added to my Writeblr intro. I do what I want.
Let me know if I should write the rest of the book.
The Giant's Gamble
Chapter 1
Kirjath slipped through the ajar side door, contorting like a reed in a hurricane to clear the splintered doorframe. The nightclub music throbbed ahead of him, so loud he felt the vibration in his breastbone. To angelic ears, it was about as melodic as a jackhammer accompanying an angry toddler. But that didn’t matter. He wasn’t here to enjoy himself. Did he ever enjoy himself, really?
In the gloomy light, lovely young humans sauntered out of his way, half of them making cow eyes at him. The other half, mostly young men, did their best to puff themselves up, like offended cats. But the tallest of them didn't reach his shoulder.
He brushed past them all with a weary smile and pushed deeper into the club. Not towards the bar, which lay under a web of pipes that crawled across the unfinished ceiling like tentacles of some cosmic horror. Not towards the dance floor, where people who had, from his perspective, been born yesterday gyrated and swayed. No, his destination was at the back, through a door marked employees only. Locked, of course. As if it mattered.
With a twist of the wrist, he broke the doorknob off. It took only a second to dismantle the whole lock apparatus and squish himself through the too-small space. Nobody noticed, not with the music thumping overtime.
A dank narrow hallway greeted him on the other side, lit only by a bare bulb hanging from a frayed wire. It stank of black mold and piss. But at least he didn't have to look at the humans anymore. Kirjath hated places where humans tried to substitute alcohol for actual courage. And the music hurt his ears.
Down at the end of the hall, he found a crumbling stairwell leading down. Old leaks had scarred the cement with rusty water stains, as ugly as tear-stained mascara. No one had inspected this part of the building for decades. No doubt Camriel had ensured it. Well, he wouldn't be able to, after tonight.
He found his brother in the depth of his lair, sitting on a couch that had half-collapsed under his giant frame. Camriel wasn't actually his brother, for neither of them had ever been born. But the relationship was an appropriate shorthand.
The other grigori was staring up at a ceiling he'd plastered with pinups of anorexic teen girls. He looked almost skeletal himself, with legs so long the hems of his pants fell mid-knee. He stank of wine and too much cologne, the kind that claimed to be full of irresistible pheromones. His eyes were closed, but Kirjath couldn't tell if he was visiting the Intangible or just drunk.
“Camriel,” he said and drew his sword from thin air, which is where he kept it. People looked at you funny if you wore as sword these days. Especially one long enough for a giant.
The other angel opened bloodshot eyes and stared up at him. “Kirjath? Have you come to kill me?”
He nodded. Obviously so.
Camriel sat up, and the couch collapsed the rest of the way with a whump. “Why this time?”
This was obvious, too, but Kirjath answered, because he knew Camriel loved to live in denial. “You've been siring children. Triplets, all so big they had to be cut from their mother's belly. All unnaturally beautiful and strong.”
Camriel scoffed and scrambled to his feet from the ruins of the couch. “C-sections are routine now. Doesn't even kill the mother. What does it matter?”
“Nephilim are never routine,” Kirjath said. “Even if the mother survives.”
“Oh, like the modern world can't use a few more men of renown? They can get basketball scholarships. Life will be a cinch. Really, they should thank me.”
“Who should? The children you abandoned?” His grip tightened on his sword.
Camriel tossed his long hair over his shoulder. If he'd ever tried to comb it, the comb was probably still lost somewhere in there. “Heaven should thank me, for improving the gene pool.”
Kirjath nodded and offered his brother his most disappointed look. And then he stepped forward and rammed his sword through his brother's stomach.
“Ow! Fuck!” Camriel said, curling around the steel that had split his intestines. “What the fuck is your problem?”
Kirjath kicked his feet out from under him and ripped the blade loose, spraying the mildewed carpet with gore. He stood over his dying brother and said, “We were exiled. Because you couldn't stop breeding. Because you couldn't leave the humans alone.”
“It wasn't just me,” Camriel said, his tone utterly offended.
“The grigori,” Kirjath snarled. “Because they wouldn't stop. Because none of you would. And now look what’s become of us. I'm not going to let you keep breaking the law. Not that one. The only one that matters.”
“What are you, heaven’s watchdog?” Camriel spat. “They threw you out too, Kirjath! They threw us all out! So what if I broke their laws? Who the fuck cares?”
“I care,” Kirjath said. He lifted his sword.
Blood ran down Camriel’s lips and pooled in the hollow of his throat. “You think you're better than me?” he gurgled. “Better than the rest of us? Because you never knocked up some girl? You're not. Because you--”
Kirjath swung. And his brother's head rolled away, lips silenced, as the irony stink of blood overwhelmed the little room where his brother had spent his sad little life.
He'd be back, but not right away. And by the time he made his way back to the Tangible, perhaps he would have learned his lesson.
He turned his back on the headless body, dismissing his sword back to nowhere from whence it had come. And came face to face with a young woman. She stood in the doorway with a delighted look on her face, and she wore the sigil of Lilith at her throat.
“You killed him,” she said. “How wonderful.”
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Just chapters and snippets
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“La rebelión permanente: las revoluciones sociales en América Latina”, de Fernando Mires
#argentina#lectores#book#books#men reading#currently reading#reading in public#bookporn#subte#buenos aires#books books and books#more books#more books please#bookpic#book post#bookphoto#book photo#books with me#book tok#booktok#book toker#booktoker#livros
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Bro you need to warn a girl before she starts watching The Terrror because I didnt realise how obsessed I'd become with researching the Franklin Expedition
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New acquisitions. Time to get serious… a little bit. And mean.
Carla Hoch - Fight Write: How to write believable fight scenes
Michael J. Carlson - Hurting Your Characters: A writer’s guide to describing injuries and pain from the character’s point of view
Samantha Keel (@bysamanthakeel) - Ten B.S. Medical Tropes that Need to Die Today… and What to Do Instead: A scriptmedic guide
Sorry, Tyler…
Sorry not sorry, Xavier…
PS: Digging for references on Tumblr for Carla Hoch and Michael J. Carlson. As soon as I find one, I'll update the post.
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One thing to look forward to about returning to the States: bookstores full of books in my primary language.
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Decorating tip! Who has enough bookcases...
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GET IT OF MY DESKKKKKK
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Guess who got some new books!!!
Guess who got some new books!!
Guess who got some new books!!!
THIS ONE DID!!!!!!!!
#books#books and reading#rina kent#reading#yaaay me!#yaaaaaas!!!#more books#getting back into reading
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Everywhere I go I see Ali Hazelwood
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#new books#book#books#tbr list#more books#librarylife#book shelves#book shelf#book shop#reading corner#readers#read#reading#reading community#books and reading#readers of tumblr#readersofinstagram#book readers#reader
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Brilliant!
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Friday the 13th is the perfect day to start a new WIP I shouldn't be writing.
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“Ficciones”, de Jorge Luis Borges en la Línea A.
#ficciones#jorge luis borges#borges#escritores#literatura#literatura argentina#argentina#buenos aires#book recommendations#lectores#instabooks#books#book#books books books#more books#more books please#booksbooksbooks#books on boooks#bookporn#bookpic#bookphoto#bookcover#bookhaul#bookhunter#book hunter#book with me#reading#la gente anda leyendo#leyendo#currently reading
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goodwilllibrarian
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What do you mean, I went overboard? Yeah, I bought 28 books. 28, not 26, two of them aren’t on the photo cause I gave one to my mom and one to my man. So yeah, 28. But 9 of them are for my boy! So in the end it’s only 17 for me. So I fail to see your point. 17 books is a quite reasonable harvest for a two days trip to the Salon du Livre. And no, I don’t give a shit about storage. There’s always a corner left somewhere in the house to add a new pile of books.
#salon du livre de Montréal#compulsive need to buy books#books#more books#booklover#bookworn#booknerd
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But, despite it all, at least I got new books though. Always look on the bright side.
#bookblr#bookworm#book collector#book addict#bookaholic#bibliophile#new books#more books#never enough books
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