I am in the process of editing the second and third books of the Minstrel’s Song quadrilogy (that’s a four-book series).
I am about three-quarters of the way through the first book in my new fantasy(with a dash of sci-fi) book… which will most likely be another trilogy.
But what’s next?
I never wanted to be a Robert Jordan or a Terry Brooks. I love those authors, but I had no interest in being those authors. I don’t want to write one 15-20 book series. I’d rather be like Timothy Zahn: new trilogies, new worlds to explore, different characters to meet, and none of them like the ones that came before. I have two new worlds to write in when I’m done with Grayden’s Tale (working title), the first is a sci-fi mystery adventure, and the second will be a return to an epic fantasy setting in an all-new realm.
What’s next? Well, I have a sci-fi world up and running, complete with history and some interesting new technology. I’m not actively writing the story yet… as we’re what I’d call in the “beginning stages” of story-outlining for this series… but I did get hit with inspiration a few weeks ago. So I thought I’d give you a sneak peek at the next project on the horizon (remember, this is just a rough draft… “Under Construction” as it were…)
She breezed into my office like the last breath of Winter before the final thaw. She looked the part, too, dressed in a floor-length, silver silk gown and elbow-length midnight blue gloves. She was in her mid-fifties, and held herself with that regal grace some women acquire as they age. She had long silver hair and her icy blue eyes that stared out at me from under her broad-brimmed gray hat. Of her appearance, it was her eyes that caught me, there was a fear in them that assured me this was no regular client worried about a lost dog.
Logan blinked. He berated himself for staying up so late watching old Dragnet vids. Even though he had never been to Earth, he enjoyed many of its historical relics. It was his parent’s influence, of course. They had been born in the deep south of Old America, and clung fiercely to their heritage, despite being extremely grateful for the opportunity that had allowed them to join the Anglish continent on Mars with their own parents when they were in their teens.
Brushing aside these thoughts, he stood up and stretched his hand out across his desk to the woman.
“How do you do, Ma’am? My name is Logan. Please have a seat and tell me what I can do for you.”
The woman hesitated as she placed her hand delicately in Logan’s. “The sign on the door said… I mean… pardon me, but am I in the right place? I’m looking for Detective R. Welles.”
“That’s me, Ma’am, R. Logan Welles,” he grinned. This happened all the time. Daisy wanted to know why he wouldn’t let her just change the sign on the door, but he liked the “R,” it looked grand, and yet reassuring, as if it was saying, “it’s okay, you can trust me to get the job done.” If letters had character, an R would be one of the best. Besides, it would hurt his parents’ feelings if he dropped his first name altogether.
Puzzlement flashed through the woman’s eyes, but she didn’t press the point. Instead she took a seat and stared at him across the desk.
“I’ve heard stories about you,” she said. “I tell you this because I want you to know that I’m not just darting into the first detective’s office on the street.”
“Fair enough,” Logan replied.
“My name is Carmon Eidelberg, perhaps you recognize the name?”
Logan frowned. “You any relation to Herbert Eidelberg, one of the leading engineers for Aditus?”
Carmon nodded. “Very good. He is my husband.”
Logan felt as though he had just passed a test. He leaned back in his large, comfortable desk chair and clasped his hands over his stomach, waiting for her to continue.
“You come highly recommended, Mr. Welles, so I won’t waste any more of your valuable time than I must. I do hope very much that you will take my case. You see, my husband is missing. I believe something terrible has happened to him.”
“Why haven’t you taken this to the authorities? Why hire a private investigator?”
She hesitated. “He has only been missing for six hours.”