That Bloody Girl

I have officially started Book Two! It feels great to have a chapter down, but honestly, I am still feeling really overwhelmed. What if I can't do it again? What if I am taking on too much this time? Even though I have successfully written one good book that people are really responding to, I am still terrified that this little dream of mine--becoming a full-time, well-selling author--is just a fantasy. As much as I like having the freedom to create my own look and run my own social media, I worry that if I don't ever get a publishing company interested in me I will never make it. I want so much to do it on my own--well, with the help of some wonderful friends. But will success come my way? Clearly I worry and think too much. Maybe that is why I am a writer. I am excited about the story I want to tell. There are a lot of elements that I have yet to really hash out, but as with TSF, I know most of that will come along as I write. I'm going to be focusing on isotope analys

So, here is a little snippet of what I have written so far of book two. It's short and my first draft, but I am finally getting started. Let me know what you think! The Skeleton Girls Sometimes I still dream about sirens. The echo of them—bouncing against houses, reverberating off of sidewalks and asphalt streets—a melody on repeat. The corresponding colors, the memory of them dancing, penetrating the black city sky, play like a series of disjointed home movies on the insides of my eyelids, haunting my sleep with the weight of melancholic nostalgia. I usually wake with a cool sweat dappling my forehead, names of lost friends on my lips, the vision of blood spatter dancing in my head. But, not tonight. Tonight there will be little sleep. And the sound of sirens will be reality, police and emergency vehicles rushing to another scene of another crime in this city. The blood spatter that will stain the streets will be fresh and fragrant, the body it came from still very much