This post is a little bit different. I was planning on posting a short story that I wrote a number of years ago, but somehow my local copy got deleted and I don’t have the brainpower to dive into my backups right now and find it. So instead I will bring you a short snippet of an urban fantasy novel that I hope to publish someday. I wrote the first draft 16 years ago. Since then it has been written and rewritten and then rewritten again. At some point I wrote the entire thing and changed the main character to someone who was supposed to be a side character and then had to change it all back. Anyway, I am polishing it up once again for agent submissions. For now this will be a free post, but once I turn on paid subscriptions then all of my fiction will be for paid subscribers only.
I bring you the partial prologue of Collegium Noctis:
The moon was high overhead and provided the only light in the dark night. It seeped its way into the darkened space of the alley. This was a good place to wait and to hide. What an individual was hiding from probably didn't matter, since the shadows were useful regardless of your reason. The darkness provided many areas that would conceal any figure no matter what their stature, and this was particularly important to the plan.
In these shadows was where the robed figure was waiting and watching. Time was of the essence, and it was quickly running out. Things were already running behind and that could not be tolerated. In the midst of the day it was easy to forget but with this moment of solitude the urgency of the situation came rushing back. Time was slipping away like water through your fingers. It was time. The perfect girl was in the bar just across the alley and all she had to do was leave. So simple and yet so fraught with potential complications. What if she didn't leave through the back door? This seemed unlikely, but unlikely scenarios needed to be accounted for. What if she wasn't alone? Considering the type of woman she was that seemed more likely than other possibilities.
These racing anxious thoughts were distracting and the person in the shadows was finding it difficult to focus, but breathed deeply and muttered under their breath to calm their anxious nervous system. This was the most difficult part, it was always the most difficult part. Once the job was complete then the high of success would take over and all of this would be forgotten. If this task was meant to be completed, then it would become a reality. If it wasn't meant to be completed, then something would go wrong. The universe was about to decide.
When the door to the club finally opened and abruptly spilled light and noise into the alley, the girl was not alone. This was a slight complication, but not unexpected. She cooed teasingly at her companion and teetered slightly on her high heels. Her platinum blonde hair brushed against the edges of her jaw as she shook her head and laughed. Her male companion casually backed her against the wall of the building and started tugging at the bottom of her sequined, skin-tight skirt. She laughed again and pushed him away, "We’re in public, you idiot. Come on, let’s go home." The fact that they both appeared to be drunk was a stroke of good fortune.
She took his hand and led him to her car, the black paint of the shiny sports car blending almost seamlessly into the night. Fumbling, she tried to put the key into the lock and the keys clattered to the ground. Muttering a curse under her breath, she bent to get them and stood to find her new friend standing too close for her comfort. She could smell the stale beer on his breath and it made her cringe. As attractive as he was, drunk men were not as enticing as they often wanted to believe. He slurred in what she assumed was meant to be a flirting manner but came across merely as repulsive to anyone observing the scene, "Well, there’s always the backseat since you lost the keys, its Debra right?"
She thought about answering him but movement over his shoulder caught her eye and she turned her attention to the darkness instead. A surprised exclamation didn’t get past her lips before a person emerged from the shadows and the words stuck in her throat. Covered from head to toe in wine red cloth, almost a dress if she had to describe it, the deep hood effectively covering their entire face. The shadow spoke to them in a tone that was neither distinctly male or female, "Her name is not Debra you fool. And I believe your evening is over now. When you wake then you should grow some manners. If you should wake that is."