DANA BLOGGING, WEDNESDAY

Greetings to those who've made it back from All Hallow's Eve. Revenge of the parsnip people (see Jeff's posting and photos below) is a chilling comment on when vegetables go awry! Though on closer observation, it looks like the masked parsnip is causing trouble for the parsnips who live in the pumpkin... :0 !! His head is made of a lime, and theirs are gourds, so maybe he's on a different side of some garden patch conflict over the trafficking of doll parts?! Kudos to Leisa Pichard for her Archimboldo-like tableau.

Another excerpt from my book today...

This one brings you into the nightclub that is the focus of much action in the book. Editor Tiffany Jonas and I are having a contest for readers to think of a name for the nightclub, which will appear in later books. The contest runs until Nov. 22 and there is a cool prize for the one who thinks of the best name. Details are at Aio’s site. Like the City of Broken Glass, the nightclub is almost a character in its own right and a great place to find a party:

“Pretending to head back to the tram station, she circled around the block and turned in to the café’s door. It was an immense place inside but warmly lit, like a cave taken over by fireflies. Though its exterior had consisted only of a shabby, decaying wall and a sign with a chip missing, the interior was nearly extravagant, set on three tiers with a stage at one end on the main level and flimsy staircases leading to upper terraces on all sides. The paper lanterns were in profusion, and a jazz band was warming up to play to a crowded room. People jostled everywhere and bar maids and waiters swam about the crowds, surfacing and ducking though the guests as efficiently as dolphins navigating a choppy ocean. She swam through as well, circling the perimeter of the main floor, surveying the terraces. And there on the third floor, in a distant corner, was the man she had been told was her mark, though a quarry dangerous and unpredictable. The silken coat that had made its sly way into her subconscious was slung over his chair. He wore a styled suit and sported an ostentatious hairstyle of the kind much admired in places of consequence the world over. He sipped a martini pensively, and seemed, even in stillness, to calculate and weigh options with eyes darkened in the dim light of the terrace.”

The nightclub is a place for characters of all kinds to cross paths...

Visit back tomorrow for a final excerpt, and one of political intrigue. Eson is in his element, setting up a deal with a sea trader in a coastal city, far away from his mountain springs. While the other excerpts were from early on in the book, this one will be from the rich, delectable middle, where the thick has plottened considerably ;)

By the way, for those of you who have never tried stuffed monkey, I would highly recommend reading "Twelve Collections and The Teashop" by Zoran Zivkovic. It may be the best dessert you've ever had...