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All First Sorceress Glenna Stormraven wants is to be left alone, with no whiny princesses to deal with. Just when she thinks she’s found a home that’s out of the way, an enterprising gnomish realtor starts selling the neighboring property. It’s up to her to handle the situation, deal with more fussy clients, and with her less-than-desirable neighbors. Meanwhile, Poggy Strankfelder finds out that selling land owned by demons has consequences that come in the form of pickle-salesman-turned-assassin Jiurt.

I’ve been working on this book since the start of July, and that’s the blurb I wrote at the beginning of it, before I knew exactly what twists and turns the plot would take. It’s still surprisingly accurate, although I’ll probably end up changing it soon because while accurate it doesn’t quite reflect all the right details. I estimate I have at least 10,000 more words to go to tell this story in its entirety, and while it’s a fun story I’ll be glad to see the end of it. Because this thing has kicked my butt. Every time I think I’ve got the story figured out, I end the scene and then I’m stuck figuring out what happens next. The world is fun to play with, but some major editing is going to be needed to make the right elements come out and the whole thing needs to be more vivid.

But that’s the next draft. For now, I’m going to keep writing until I’m finished, and since I’m actually on a role here I don’t want to stop to take too much time writing this post. So here’s a little clip from one of my favorite parts.

“That’s a really nice mace.”

“I thought so,” Jiurt said, swinging the object in question in a loose figure eight.

“You’re not giving it back, are you?”

“Not a chance.” Another swing. “This is spoils of war, Strankfelder. I earned this.” He stopped the mace so it was right in front of his face. “Besides, I need to build up a collection of loot so I can sell some of it and get a new shirt. Again.”

“Maybe if you stopped working out for a few months women would find you less attractive.”

Jiurt slammed Poggy against the wall, practically frothing at the mouth. “I never had a problem with women tearing my shirt off until I started working for you and you decided that the easiest way out of every situation is to turn feral females on me. It’s not a good solution!” he hissed. “If you try it again, I’ll decapitate you and just collect that stupid bounty.”

“I thought your moral code wouldn’t—”

“Morals only last through so much groping, Poggy!”

“Okay!”

“Let’s just go, already.”

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