For some authors, all they have to do is announce that their latest book is out and I’ll drop everything and buy it. If I love them, I follow them, engage with them on social media and recommend them to everyone I know. When one such author posted to his Facebook group that his latest was available, I immediately went to my Amazon app and bought it and then took a picture of my Kindle in my hand with his cover on it. About five minutes after he said it was live, the book was in my hands.
“Weird,” he said, as a comment to the picture.
In that one word, I knew exactly what he was feeling.
I don’t think I will ever get over the twisting churn of anxiety I get when a book is about to be released. In just a couple of days, The Bonding Blade will start appearing on ereaders. Some have bought it on pre-order. They will wake up to it on their device and perhaps, begin to read right away. The knowledge that this thing I’ve been working on for a couple of years will finally be available is intimidating.
It’s not just the new releases. Any time someone tells me they’ve just purchased a book or are reading something I wrote, my thoughts immediately go to a hope that they don’t hate it. After all this time, you’d think I’d get over it.
But, no. I don’t ever get over it. It’s very much like the anxiety I used to have when waiting for the results of some test that was worth 75% of the grade. Sometimes I’m unable to sleep and invest extreme efforts to avoid thinking about it for fear I’ll start biting my nails.
Did you know that nail biting is also known as onychophagy or onychophagia? A fancy way of saying that you’re busy chomping on your nails because you don’t want to be doing other things with your mouth. According to Psychology Today, this “Body-focused repetitive behavior” or BFRB is a sign of anxiety. Dah! I just love that they refer to it by an acronym. So very military of them.
So even for The Bonding Blade, this book that I’m so proud of, the book I've spent the last couple of years trying to cobble together, I’m still nervous. Excited and nervous. Maybe excited and relieved and nervous. Definitely excited and relieved and nervous and anxious, but I’m glad the day is almost here.
When you’re nervously waiting for something, what do you do to take your mind off things?
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The first time I’d been in this room, I’d felt overwhelmed by the magical elements seeping from every object but now the magic felt more like possibility than danger. I didn’t have a natural understanding of magic the way Gil, Quinn and Cassie did. My brain didn’t seem to function in the same way Reuben’s worked, and I had, evidently, not inherited my mother’s propensity for the dark arts. But the more I’d watched them wield magic, the more admiration I felt for them and what they could do.
I still wasn’t ready to trust all witches, especially the unguided, young ones who caused more trouble than they were worth, but I did respect those that had a calling for molding the natural elements to their will.
I checked my cell phone for the time again. Waiting for Fredricks began to grate at my nerves. “How does he manage to make an immortal feel like she’ll die before he finds what he’s looking for?”
Gil flashed his teeth at me before turning his most intimidating glare to the wizard.
“I thought you knew where everything was in this hovel of yours,” Gil said. “What is taking you so long?”
“I apologize, my lord. There are many references to blood contracts and many more that claim to be a way to break the contract, but upon further inspection, the breakage usually involves the death of the person who entered into the agreement.”
“Well, that won’t suit our purposes, will it, wizard?” I said.
“No, my goddess. I understand. I think I’m getting close.” He held a large book open, his hand skimming over the words. “This one is a bit different. I’m just working out the translation now, but roughly it says, ah… blood is the permanent bond for which the promise lives. Ah, it goes on, and this was the part I was unsure of. Oh yes, right here it says, ‘but the trials of Shamash bring the … the … I just can’t figure out this word. Sword maybe? The dagger?”
“Blade,” Gil said, his voice heavy. He leaned both hands on the table in the center of the room. “The blade of Utu.”
Fredricks and I waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t.
“Gil?”
He straightened, ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath. “You won’t like it, my queen.”
I crossed my arms and leaned a hip against the table. “I don’t like what’s happening to my Quinn now, sooooo…”
Gil held his hand out to Fredricks, who hefted the large tome into his hand. Gil held it up as if it weighed nothing. He skimmed the page, running his finger back and forth over the same passage a few times. His face hardened as he read. Finally, his gaze flicked up to me. “You know of Utu?”
I was so happy when that one was crushed into oblivion, Inanna said.
“Nope, but evidently, Inanna does.”
“I would hope she would. Utu is or was the lord of justice in her time. He meted out punishments, adjudicated disputes …”
“And contracts, I assume.”
“Exactly. He is quite well known for having several items which, after his death, could be used to determine the right and the wrong of things as he did while alive. A staff that would bend and twist when someone told a lie. A ring that would glow to identify the righteous party.”
“Handy. Too bad we don’t have doodads like that these days. Are you saying one of these items could be used to break Quinn’s contract?”
“No. Both of the items I spoke of were destroyed.”
“How do you know that? And how could an immortal die in the first place?”
Gil lay the large book on the table and leaned over it, a rigid set to his shoulders. “I know this because I killed him myself, and destroyed his talismans.”
Fredricks shrank back, sucking in air with a hiss, his hand to his throat. The drama queen.
I waited for Gil to elaborate, but he didn’t. The longer I waited, the more disturbed he looked. Finally, he slammed the book shut and picked it up, holding his hand out to me.
“We’ll be back, wizard. Speak to no one about this.”