Currently: 43,200 / 50,000

My WIP is not where I needed it to be by now, but with just under 7,000 words to go, there’s no time to stop and worry about it. I thought the falling action and denouement would be easy, a free-flowing tumble of resolution that would see me writing at breakneck speeds until The End.

Alas, it’s not like that at all. Everyone gets their emotional resolution in these final scenes and there’s a lot of darning and weaving to do. Who could have predicted that six perspective characters would make for a complicated convergence of story threads? WHO COULD HAVE POSSIBLY PREDICTED THIS?

My partner and I have instituted a new thing in our home to help me get this manuscript done in time to give beta readers a reasonable deadline. We call it our “hour of power”, where we both sit in the study room and work alone together. Him on his projects, me on this beastie. It’s a lovely sharing of suffering, and I’m so touched by his enthusiasm and support. On my moodiest, most sluggish and unmotivated days, this seems to help me keep writing.

So, a little news…

Project CLAY now has an official title and launch date. Yet We Sleep, We Dream is a steamy SF paranormal romcom landing across bookstores on 23 September 2023.

It’s an Aussies in space story, and I can confirm it contains sex, drugs and casual swearing. Blurb and cover are on the way, but for now please enjoy this excerpt featured earlier this month in Dot Club.

To my subscribers who read this in the newsletter, thank you for keeping our little secret. Another sneak peek excerpt will be coming soon!

Excerpt from Yet We Sleep, We Dream:

“Engineering’s more of a concern. You know, in case the sensors and monitoring are wrong and it’s not just the lights that are out. But that’s why we need to make sure gravity’s all good around the ship, in case someone needs to go down there and check things out. I, uh...”

Is it really necessary to explain this in such basic terms to a figment of his imagination?

And did he really have to explain it out loud?

Am I even speaking out loud?

He huffs a smile to himself and eyes the half-smoked joint again. Funny business, all of this.

But the redhead walks over. Nick is mesmerised by her bare feet across the cold floor. Her footfall somehow seems too thick and loud and physical. Especially physical. He never knew his imagination could be so vivid.

“No, you don’t need to explain it. Although I adore the sound of your voice, young one.” She runs a cool hand across the back of his neck. “I knew someone like you. He saw me bathing in a river beneath a twin moonrise and fell in love, the poor soul. He visited the river every moonrise for seven years, hoping to win me over. And then he gave up. And now that he’s gone, I find myself thinking of him, of what-ifs we never gave a voice. Now that I’m near you, I wonder all the more. I lament that even gods can be naïve.”

“Is that what you are? A god?”

She stands so close he can feel the heat radiating from her body. Her long hair smells like honey and wine. She touches him on the face, thumb brushing the ghost of a kiss across his cheek. Vibrations gather on the tip of his tongue.

Titania.

He knows her name like he knows his own heartbeat. She is here. She is real. Of course she’s real.

“Come.” She holds out a hand.

“Where?”

“Over by the window.”

Nick drops the tablet and obeys.