Today is cooler at my house. It’s starting to feel like fall, which might be my favorite season. Fall is a very sensual season to me. (And by sensual, I don’t just mean the sexytimes kind of sensual.) What appeals to your senses this time of year? The smells? The crunch of leaves that are starting to fall? The cooler mornings?
I’ll confess, I miss Istanbul. I find myself wanting to go back in the winter and see how the city has changed. Would it be quieter? Or bustling with more local energy now that the high season for tourism is almost over and cooler temperatures have come? Another year, maybe.
It’s important to invoke the senses in every scene, particularly when you set a book in a location many readers won’t be familiar with. What does it sound like? What are the smells? How is the light different or the same? Ask those questions when you’re writing and when you’re reading and enjoy traveling the world via book.
Lots of fun news lately. The audiobooks for the Elemental Mystery and Elemental World series are out now, and available at Amazon and Audible. I also just finalized a deal with Egmont Lyx in Germany for the first translation of A HIDDEN FIRE, which is so cool. I’ll be posting more about that as I know, but it’s looking like the translation might be out around March of next year.
And initial copy-edits are almost done for THE SCRIBE! (Advance Reader Copies will be going out soon.) A very few early reviews are starting to come in. I sent just a couple copies out to get some initial reaction from reviewers I’ve worked with a long time, and I’ve been very pleased so far.
Karina over at the always excellent Nocturnal Book Reviews had this to say over on Goodreads:
“All in all, despite being unsure about the middle part of the story, I’m in love with this new series from Elizabeth Hunter and can only predict that few books in it will rock my world. Cheers to that, peeps!”
And Leisha over at RoloPolo Book Blog just emailed me her review, which will post on release day. (Thanks, Leisha!) Here’s an excerpt:
“The Scribe is Hunter’s finest work to date and I say this after having assigned 4½ to 5 stars to every book of hers that I have read. The Scribe blew me the hell away, so much so that it has taken me several days to process what I read and be able to write this review. This book is simply stunning.”
I’m really excited for you guys to read it! I’m already working on the second book, and once these edits are done, I’ll be able to go full bore on the writing bits, instead of the editing, too. Until then, here’s a teaser:
Malachi watched the edge of the water where the waves crashed up against the embankment as a giant freighter glided through the narrowest part of the Bosphorus. It was a normal sunny day along the water, so why was his mood so dark?
“What’s with you today?” Ava nudged her foot against his knee. She was relaxed again. The change in her temperament would last for a few days after each appointment before the agitation would start again. It was a curious cycle, but one he couldn’t question more without arousing suspicion. He caught the tip of her shoe in his hand, pinching her toe under the leather before he released it. Another curious thing. He found himself finding ways to touch her without contact with her skin. A brush of arms as they passed each other. A hand on the small of her back as they walked through a crowd. It was fleeting and probably unwise, but he couldn’t resist.
He didn’t really want to.
He frowned when he realized he’d never answered her question. “I’m fine.”
“You’re being all broody, Mal.”
He muttered, “I really wish you’d stop calling me that.”
Ava picked up her glass of tea and sipped before she answered. “It’s good to want things… Mal.”
He couldn’t help it; she made him smile. He shook his head, relieved that she hadn’t wanted to do anything more strenuous than stroll along the waterfront and shop a bit. She’d bought an embroidered purse for her mother, earrings and a scarf for herself. The earrings were so long they almost brushed her bare shoulders, and the scarf held her hair back, its colors vivid against her dark curls. He felt it again, the pull to put his hands on her. To stroke the skin where the jewelry touched. To pull the scarf from her hair.
They’d retired to a café, one of Malachi’s favorites, to drink tea and grab a quick bite to eat. Bread and cold salads covered the table, a mezze platter of eggplant and yogurt and the spicy tomato salad she loved. Black olives and oil-soaked cheese. Ava tore off a piece of bread and dipped it, still tapping her foot against his.
“Have you always fidgeted?” he asked.
“Yes. My mom says it’s the reason I’m so thin. Couldn’t keep still if my life depended on it.”
“Even though you eat constantly.”
“Hey, you burn through a lot of energy when you contain this much awesome.” She winked, but the smile on her lips held a trace of bitterness.