November 12th, 2010

writing new amsterdam

Sie schläft mit mir, doch nur für Geld. Ist doch die schönste Stadt der Welt.



I'm so in love with this cover. I love the hands on the woman in the high-necked gown. She's an artist, you see-- 

And copies of the trade hardcover are still available for pre-order.

For centuries, the White City has graced the banks of the Moskva River. But in the early years of a twentieth century not quite analogous to our own, a creature even more ancient than Moscow’s fortress heart has entered its medieval walls.

In the wake of political success and personal loss, the immortal detective Don Sebastien de Ulloa has come to Moscow to choose his path amid the embers of war between England and her American colonies. Accompanied by his court—the forensic sorcerer Lady Abigail Irene and the authoress Phoebe Smith—he seeks nothing but healing and rest.

But Moscow is both jeweled and corrupt, and when you are old there is no place free of ghosts, and Sebastien is far from the most ancient thing in Russia....




In other news, I'm getting a cold.
sf star trek horta/spock

fly! fly, you fools!

Hmm. "Mobius Heart" is pinging at me. Which is nice, because I was starting to wonder if it ever would. I think I'll port it into Scrivener and play with it.

But first, breakfast.

(I did just pop the file open and put in a note to myself--only to find I had made the same memo to me at an earlier date. So much for that stunn ing narrative epiphany. But then I had a second, new narrative epiphany. So yay.)