I work as an editor, right? So you can imagine my horror and dismay (and gratitude) when my friend Alyssa (beta reader) returned my MS back with roughly one million* typos, doubled words, and misspellings.
Wow. Some of them are quite embarrassing. Guess my editing cap and my writing cap can’t both fit on my head at the same time, hardy har. So if any of my beta readers haven’t started yet (you know who you are), I will send you a less-typo copy of CSH.
Apparently I say “wretch” instead of “wrench” a lot. Characters are puking all over the place. XD
Still have a lot of enthusiasm for my new book. Whee!
Excerpt of the day:
A man on a brown mare led the horse forward, dismounting. Teague watched the scenario play out in her mind. She would ride on the back of his saddle, strapped into place to prevent escape, then be taken to some unknown cell far away from the caravan and any form of safety. Who were these strange men? They would never tell her. They would ask her questions she didn’t know the answers to, then beat her for insolence. They might do other things, terrible things Teague only heard about in tall tales.
And then the sun would set, she would change, and everything her parents spent their lives protecting would be gone.
Weirs, chapter 1