#Novel Update

[liangyulian]

Question for fellow translators and reader of fan translated novels, manga/manhua etc.:

Recently I've been working on translating Chinese webnovels, I haven't posted anything yet but it's been a lot of fun and I look forward to sharing stories I really enjoy with others out there. My question is for both translators and readers I suppose.

When it comes to translating and reading how much of the original format, wording, sentence patterns etc. do you use?

I enjoy adding in footnotes and diving into cultural things like idioms and metaphors, and in general I think it's always better to stay true to those to try and keep the authors original ideas and wording. I think it gives a unique opportunity for readers to learn about another culture and language.

But there is a big difference between basically MTL cleaned up to be readable and really going through and editing. Like, if it were a gradient scale and on one side is MTL and the other is fully revamped and Anglicized how do you find your comfortable middle point? Both for the reader, and for yourself, a translator who wants to stay true to the author and story but also deliver a smooth reading experience?

Am I making sense? Does anyone else have this problem??? Have I completely gone insane???

[rs-hawk]

Sneak peek of my WIP novel Love After The Labyrinth. You can read the whole Prologue right now on Ko-Fi under my “Cup Of Coffee” tier

“You think that the Gods owe you anything? You could give your life for Them, and They still would not praise you. You would get no reward. That is what is expected of you. Did you think that you were special to Them?” her tone dripped with resentment and condescendment. “You are merely the son of a God, barely even a demigod. Your own father graced you with no magic, no powers to speak of. All you have to your name by Him is that you are His son. You are lucky that you did not end up like my son. It is only by Zeus’s grace that you did not end up that way, seeing as how He was a bull when He defiled your mother.”

Before Minos could answer, the cry of an infant filled the room. The King cringed, his face contorting in disgust. “Didn’t I tell the maids to get rid of that thing? Why are you insisting on keeping it here?” The truth of his wife’s words, he refused to hear.

[novelcain]

hurraaaay! the first chapter of When Worlds Collide is officially finished and will be posted around 1 pm CST after i give it one more read through :)

[faytelumos]

You know what? I should be doing updates for this book like I did for the last one.

I'm at about 70k words right now. We're in the Scary Place, we've had two scares and a minor encounter at this point.

I'm still behind schedule? But I'm catching up. Slowly.

[morganmaietto]

Major Update (Just Life Things)

Hello hello!

First I just wanted to come on here and tell you guys that my house was struck by lightning caught on fire and is unsafe to live in. No injuries and all pets are safe, my family and I are staying at a hotel for an indefinite period of time until their insurance can get a rental.

And lastly, I’m working on chapter 16 of The Mirror Effect and I’m planning on finishing it hopefully before leaving the hotel.

[theravenclawrevolutionary]

Having a meeting with my creative writing professor today to give him the first chapter of my book to look over for advice... I know I've been saying this for forever, but hopefully publishing stuff starts soon(ish)...?

[writing-slanted]

Oh hey y’all. “Happy” 7 days of writing. I haven’t updated because it’s been an absolute STRUGGLE but I’ve actually kept up with my word count! Currently I’m at 10,000 but I haven’t written yet today so it should be 11,666 by tonight.

I hope everyone is doing okay! In light of new developments I’m reposting resources for those who are scared and in distress after this news.

Stay safe, stay strong and keep expressing yourself!!

[anon-apple]

Hot Soup and Soft Bread 16

Table of Contents and Synopsis <- Chapter 15 Read on WordPress

Chapter 16: Soymilk and Fried Dough IV

Liu Xiaoying didn’t say anything after dinner that day, and she didn’t behave differently either. However, this made Zhong Qiuyan feel like he was on the tenterhooks. He wanted to sleep over in Cunqu’s room, but he didn’t know if Xiaoying would mind. Qiuyan hugged Cunqu and rolled around in his bed, complaining: “I would rather Xiaoying beat me up, then say to me ‘Leave my grandson, you cabbage-eating pig[1]!’ Then I’d reply ‘I will never leave your grandson unless I die!’ Then Xiaoying says: ‘I insist on separating you two’...”

Cunqu cut him off: “You have to stop watching so many 8pm TV dramas.” 

Qiuyan sucked on the skin of Cunqu’s collarbone and finally stopped after he left a hickey. While scrutinizing his handiwork, he asked: “So what is Liu Xiaoying thinking?”

Cunqu said that his grandma is a straightforward type of person. She would say whatever was on her mind. If she didn’t say anything, then perhaps there really wasn't much to say. Maybe it’s because she didn’t have anything to say, or maybe she didn’t know how to say it.

In the end, Xiaoying really didn’t say anything and didn’t act any differently towards Qiuyan. 

In October, Cunqu was moved back to the daytime shifts. After he finished up, it was past 6pm. He held his water bottle and got out of the driver’s seat, planning on handing his report to the dispatch worker. When he walked into the central hall of the public transportation terminal, he saw Xiaoying sitting on the couch hugging her little handbag. 

Qiuyan stopped and walked over. He asked: “Madam Liu Xiaoying, how come you didn't say anything beforehand about coming here to find me?”

Xiaoying replied: “I didn’t plan on coming today. But then I suddenly felt like coming today.”

Qiuyan didn’t know what she was talking about and filled a cup of warm water for her at the water dispenser. Then he sat down next to Xiaoying. The hall still had other employees walking in and out. Xiaoying looked up at the clock mounted on the wall across from them and asked Qiuyan: “You and Zhou Cunqu. Are you two ‘Homosexual’[2]?”

Qiuyan looked at her. Xiaoying said with her head lowered: “This old lady might be old, but I’m not dumb. I’ve already had an inkling that there was something off about you two.” She let out an elusive sigh and continued, “In the 2000s, an arsonist set off a fire in East City’s Phoenix Mountain Park. The people who set the fire and those who were chased out by it from the park were all brought to the police station. I still have an impression of that event because one of the male teachers of our school was also there. That year I had just retired, and I heard on the news that the whole group were homosexuals. The male teacher quit immediately after. I don’t really understand this. So in the past two days, I’ve been going to the library to read up on it, but I can’t comprehend much of what the books are saying. I really am old; it’s quite difficult for me to accept something like this.”

Qiuyan opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by a notification on his phone. Cunqu texted him asking: Are you off work?

Xiaoying looked at Qiuyan’s phone home screen background. Displayed on the screen was Cunqu holding a picture book, happily laughing. She and Qiuyan sat side by side, silently watching the people occasionally walking in and out of the terminal hall. Xiaoying sighed and said: “But I love Zhou Cunqu very much. More than you love him, for sure.”

Qiuyan said: “So now you want to compete over this, old lady?”

Xiaoying said: “Definitely more than you.”

She laughed and continued: “But I don’t have much time left to love Zhou Cunqu. Although I don’t really understand what ‘homosexuality’ is, I know that you’re a pretty good person. Zhou Cunqu is also a pretty good person. The two of you loving each other doesn’t seem like a bad idea.”

Xiaoying took a sip from the cup of warm water. With a slight tremble in her hands, she said to Qiuyan: “One day, when Second Grandma[3] goes up to the sky, she will protect you both. Grandma is the type of person who is true to her words.”

--

Early the next morning, Cunqu sent Qiuyan off to work and stood beside “Double Yolk Egg” Grandpas to read the morning paper. The paper that day wrote about how the new No.7 subway line officially started operating. A baby tiger escaped from the Cliff Mountain Wildlife Zoo, and citizens should be careful. A little kid named Mengmeng from the Blue Danube Residential Community got his head stuck inside some equipment in the community playground and was successfully pulled out after half an hour. 

Cunqu read with interest. He was someone who escaped from society. Reading about societal news now, he found it novel and fascinating. He even looked with enthusiasm at where the No.7 line passed through. He saw that it passed through Moonlake Park. When they went on their evening walk after dinner, Cunqu dragged Qiuyan to look at the route map. Qiuyan held his hand and swung their hands back and forth saying: “Little fool, I saw this on the news with my phone a long time ago.”

Cunqu continued to study the map of the No.7 line’s route. Then he suddenly said, “Next time I want to ride your bus line.”

They looked at each other.

Recently Cunqu always went out in the daytime, and he had no issues holding simple conversations with others. They tried to go for a walk on Breadfruit Street at the busiest hour in the evening. At first, Cunqu would be done after not too long, and he would want to hide regardless of who they ran into. Later, the chubby little kid spotted them taking a walk after he had dinner and insisted on joining. And so Cunqu with Qiuyan on his left and a little kid tugging his hand on the right, walked down the street pressed between the two of them. The chubby little kid always rambled to Cunqu about things that happened at kindergarten. He talked so much that Qiuyan couldn’t even say anything in between. The little kid tugged Cunqu this way and that. Behind them, Qiuyan cursed: “Damn. Give him back to me. Give him back to me!”

When the days got colder, Qiuyan and Cunqu would sit on the sofa and accompany Xiaoying to soak their feet[4] after they returned from their walks. The cool nighttime air blew in from the open balcony doors. Qiuyan played with the ends of Cunqu’s hair. Xiaoying, sitting on the side, started dozing off while watching the TV. Cunqu felt his own hair, and suddenly asked: “Since I’m always going out these days, shouldn’t I cut my hair?”

And so one afternoon that week, after learning haircutting at the trade school for over 2 months, Da Yu was suddenly invited to Xiaoying’s home to cut Cunqu's hair. Da Yu cleared his throat and said: “First I want to thank you, ge, for your acknowledgement. But I’m a bit scared.”

Qiuyan said: “Don’t worry. Even if you mess up,  you just won’t be able to leave this door ever again.”

Cunqu laughed. He said: “Just cut it shorter, that’s all.” 

With the utmost seriousness, Da Yu prepared his tools, ones for washing hair, cutting hair, shaving, the entire set. Through the mirror, Cunqu watched hair slowly fall onto the ground. He didn’t know why, but no one in the room talked or did anything else. They all stood there, quietly watching Da Yu cut short Cunqu’s hair. 

After finishing the haircut, Da Yu rubbed his forehead and nervously asked Cunqu: “How is it?”

Cunqu smiled at Da Yu through the mirror and replied: “Very good.”

Then he turned to ask Qiuyan: “How is it?”

Qiuyan rubbed his hair and said: “It feels like I switched boyfriends. How great.” Cunqu smiled and punched him in the chest.

That night, they went to the street-side open-air food stall that Qiuyan and his Mulberry Garden brothers frequented. Qiuyan squeezed Cunqu’s hand and asked if he felt uneasy. Cunqu shook his head. The food stall was filled with people at eight or nine o’clock at night. Cunqu looked around, and people’s heads looked like they were bobbing up and down in the ocean. A’Shan arrived a bit late, earnestly opened a bottle of beer, clinked it against Cunqu’s juice, and said: “Congratulations to ge for starting anew. I’ll drink all of this.”

Cunqu smiled and lifted his juice glass, finishing half of it. Then he quietly leaned back against his chair, listening to Qiuyan, A’Shan, and Da Yu jest around. Qiuyan’s neck would turn red whenever he drank a lot. When he said something funny, he’d pull Cunqu in with his arm and insist on repeating it to him.

Cunqu listened quietly, thoughts drifting off to the seven hundred some insomniac nights he locked himself up in his room reading his books. Those nights felt like a drawn-out echo from the bottom of a well. Drawing on and on. Until he thought he would be forever trapped within it.

Qiuyan suddenly waved his hand in front of his face. Putting on a cutesy tone, he asked: “Is our family’s baby sleepy?”

Da Yu went “Ah?" Then he yelled loudly, “Zhong Qiuyan you’re so nauseating.”

Qiuyan hit the table and yelled back, “It’s not like I’m talking to you!”

A’Shan waved his hand and said: “Alright, alright. Don’t start fighting for real. Alright, Qiuyan…Ge, hurry up and pull back his dog leash.”

-> Chapter 17

Footnotes

[1] Lol this is a common saying in China to describe someone (the pig) who got together with someone above his pedigree/ he doesn’t deserve (cabbage) and doesn’t even realize how good he has it.  [2] This was in quotes in the original too, indicating Xiaoying’s unfamiliarity with the term. [3] Reference to how Qiuyan jokingly referred to her as “Second grandma” a few times in the past. [4]  This is a common thing people in China, especially the elderly do every day. They fill up a washbasin with hot water and soak their feet it. It’s good for circulation and helps warm the whole body up if it’s cold. Also just very relaxing before bedtime. 

[dashofmonsterspublishing]

Posting cover art up on Patreon

I've been holding onto the cover art for a couple weeks now wanting to do a big reveal but with work and mom life I haven't been able to construct the teaser to it that I wanted, so it'll be up on Patreon today!

[lu-novelization]

Linked Universe Novelization Masterpost

Welcome! This is an accessible novelization of the Linked Universe comic (@linkeduniverse) so that Jojo’s incredible creation can be shared with more people. All credit to this AU (alternate universe) and the storyline go to JoJo @jojo56830. This page is a work in progress and will be updated frequently.

If anyone has suggestions on how the image ID’s or the novelization could improve to make them more accessible, please send those in the ask box and I will happily make the changes (/genuine).

How to help: Join the discord! There will be more info there.

What is LU? Answer: LU is the shorthand nickname for Linked Universe. LU is a Links Meet AU in which nine Links from different Legend of Zelda games meet and travel together to defeat a great evil.

Fan-created Accessible Character Guide: link here

Posts:

Novelization Masterpost: link here

Original LU Post Description: link here

Character Image Descriptions: Time, Twilight, Warriors, Four, Wind, Wild, Hyrule, Legend, Sky.

Described Images Masterpost: link here

Tone Tag Lists: I will generally write out the entire word for the tone tag because is can be hard to remember what the short tags all stand for, but this list is helpful to have anyway. Link 1, link 2

Frequently Used Tags:

Novelization: used when there is an update to the novelization

LU image description: used for image descriptions of the original post

[the-purity-pen]

Editing My Novel

If anyone remembers "Country Roads" with Farmer!Shane Walsh...

And also if anyone remembers, I took it down from Tumblr and turned it into a novel during NanoWriMo 2022...

I am editing it and touching it/looking at it for the first time since December 1, 2022.

I feel so much like a writer right now. After having such a long ass break from writing, this feels so incredibly good.

I hope to give more updates as I go and of course will share any links to it when it's fully done and self-published!

[novelcain]

I have survived!

God can try to strike me down but I shall not fall!

[annlillyjose]

dairy whiskey – update 05 – i finished the book!

[image description: on a background of large, green leaves, a white serif font reads “dairy whiskey – update 05” / end id]

feels so weird to say this, but this is the last update for dairy whiskey – the litfic novel for messed up people (aka me and my pals)

the stats, the facts:

i finished writing this book on 28/06/2023 around 4:00 am

the first draft rests at 76,684 words

this book has ten chapters and ten vignettes

i am deeply sorry to dinah for all the pain i’ve caused her

i miss this book so much already that i cannot sit a minute without thinking about it

i am officially a wreck. a proud one regardless.

i also have a few goodies for y’all!

the dairy whiskey playlist

redeemed by ransom – the dairy whiskey chapbook

unsplash collection

if you think i’m obsessed with my book, yes, i am. i very much am i most likely will be for a long time (if not the rest of my life).

fun fact: i finished writing it a day before my twentieth birthday, so it’s officially the book i wrote through my late teens. gonna be super emo and say, “i grew up with this book!”

so, again, welcome to the final update for dairy whiskey, covering the last three chapters and vignettes.

excerpts and taglist under the cut.

disclaimer: this is an original work of fiction. plagiarism of any kind will not be tolerated.

TWs:

chapter eight – mahalath leannoth

i’ve got two excerpts to share from this chapter. they’re super no-context, you know the drill.

The door to the room had been open, so I stumbled in, rosary in hand. Safety pins were scattered on the bed, some of them bent from pressure. The windowpane and the tiles next to it were covered in talcum powder. On the dressing table were two glasses of black coffee, its dry stain in rings on the bottom of it. It smelled of sweat and American body mist. One of the two pillow covers had been burned with an iron box, leaving an eye-shaped hole in the middle. Curly hair patterned the floor. Among those, like the promised silver lining in a dark cloud, I found it – a white strand of hair, thin, wavy, and membraned in cobwebs.

welcome back, grandma. bye again.

the next excerpt is another one of the thousand melodramatic emotional experiences that dinah goes through.

Nothing made noise. Every lone thing that had been alive and blooming in the village had died. Every land was barren, every river was flooding, every beautiful thing had turned to dust. Every face only a blur and every sound, a cry for help. Everything bleak and bleached, everything lost. Everything was gone and yet, the lives of everyone else remained the same; remained unchanged. Every family untouched but mine. All of them fortunate but mine. Everybody in their nests but me, a raven, flying about the village with a song in its head. It had come from nowhere, cutting through my silence, and it would stay forever as a muffled hum. A somber cry.

it actually runs a bit longer but yeah. that will be it for now.

vignette eight – lover’s vengeance

no excerpts from this chapter. enjoy the silence.

chapter nine – womb stain

teeny tiny excerpt from this one because i can never really shut up.

Mist covered the plantation and the road to the house. It rested in like a chiffon skirt.

vignette nine – vortex of wrath

we’re back with austin vignettes and pretty pretty prose for this pretty pretty boy.

Austin has been both abyss and mirrorball, but today, he is reborn in dirt. He is human more than he is boy. More than an accumulation of lessons and silences forced into place. Today, he is free, his wings unclipped, his fire unleashed. Today, he is lover. His ribs are knives sharpened against the metallic ring of revenge. His hands, mapped with fury, make love with sin. Today, he is man more than he is son. He is tide. He beats against the shore. Today, he takes in a sweep.

this goes on for another half an hour (more or less) because austin is everybody’s favourite and he deserves the world.

chapter ten – wine hearts

only one excerpt from this chapter too.

I woke up in the afternoon with pain piercing through my head. I sat up in bed, clutching chunks of hair in my fists. I buried my head in the pillow and groaned, but the pain remained. I got up and went to the bathroom. I turned the shower on and stood under it, the water, cold despite the sun, falling on my skin. My skin melted under it like a glacier, heat escaping every pore that had trapped it in. I lathered shampoo into my hair and soap onto my skin. I washed myself clean, brushed my teeth, and dried my hair with a towel. I wiped my body with another and changed into a fresh pair of clothes – an olive-green T-shirt and a creme long skirt.

also runs longer and talks about more things dinah does that are… ahem… unfortunately relevant to the (no) plot.

vignette ten – the beginning and the end

so, this is a vignette i might actually take out. i like how the story ends without it and kinda feel like this doesn’t fit that well, but we’ll see about that next month when i sit down for edits.

until then, that’s it! that’s my book! big thanks to everyone who supported me throughout the process of writing it. hope y’all get to hold this in your hand real soon!

– ann.

general taglist (ask to be added or removed)

@shaonsim @heartfullkings @vnsmiles @dallonwrites @sienna-writes @violetpeso @flip-phones @rowansghost @ambidextrousarcher @zoe-louvre @writing-with-l @magic-is-something-we-create @femmeniism @frozenstillicide @wizardfromthesea @rose-bookblood @coffeeandcalligraphy @rodentwrites @saltwaterbells @snehithiye @at-thezenith

[binarybitex]

monday, 04/08/2024

below the cut: updates on Heart Hollow, a snippet from today's writing, as well as a little peek into my busy body kind of day :-)

genuinely such a productive day. I slept for like 14 hours, had some wacky dreams, and woke up feeling completely revitalized !!

I wanted to get some writing done this morning but ahhh kinda stressed out. this week I have a lot of responsibilities to tend to. so I decided to just get a bunch of chores done and brainstorm out loud to myself as I tidied up. and wow what a motivation tactic! I have so much fun just spit balling while doing mindless tasks like cleaning that I just... kept cleaning!

I went to the grocery store too, and made chocolate chip cookies for me and my partner. took a shower to wash off all the cleaning chemicals I felt lingering on my skin. yucky. thinking about it, all I had to eat today was a coke zero and a chocolate chip cookies. no wonder my stomach hurts lmao

I wrote down some of the ideas I've had over the weekend. I'm reworking the structures of books 2 and 3. it's hard not to get too ahead of myself... I still have a first book to finish!! ahhh.... I just think book 2 is going to be a lot of fun to write. I just love writing romance so much.

around sundown I decided to actually sit down and open up Heart Hollow. the past week or so I've been aching to rework what I have for chapter 10. like I've been saying, this chapter has been killing me for months. I think I finally got it down though.... I really needed to consider what lewis was feeling after certain events in the upcoming chapter Boss Babysitter. (so hard to talk about it without spoiling !!)

i wrote until a quarter till midnight and now I'm finally laying down in bed ..... had to force myself bc my document was starting to look like a jumbled mess to my tired eyes lmao... oh and I guess bc I have time sensitive responsibilities tomorrow too.... whatever tho 🙄 lol

and, from today's writing burst, a little snippet. the only snippet I could share that doesn't flat out spoil anything aaagghh.......

eeeeek I can't wait for boss babysitters release. I know I keep saying that I JUST want to be prepared before I send it out into the world. id like to have more writing on deck so I don't leave y'all hanging on ANOTHER cliff hanger for months ...... sorry about that btw. I know the mirror break is a fat fucking ball to drop and leave off on..... lmao 💀

[rosewood-mountain]

Rosewood mountain

Chapter one

 Cries of agony shatter the peace of the early fall morning. For a few hours even the crows and owls fall silent. The vast and dense forest seems to listen in as tears began to decorate the crunchy grass of the graveyard. Brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers all weep as a young woman, Lucy Jackson, aged 22, is lowered into her final resting place. Her headstone carved only days prior. The coffin is crafted with the wood from the mountain sides, a wreath of dried daisies and ivy sitting upon the coffin's lid. 

The service comes to a close as dirt and soil is shoved into the open grave. Her portrait sits by, a smile on thin pink lips, bright green eyes glimmering with potential, thick brown curls flowing along her shoulders, glimmering in the sunlight as if it was shining amber. Her face dusted with freckles. She leaves behind her mother, father, two brothers, and six close friends. All of them clinging to one another as part of their world is covered in earth. A life snuffed out too soon. 

By noon the crowds disperse, leaving only one person remaining. From the edge of the town graveyard a  man emerges from where he had stood. In the relative quiet and shade of an old oak tree. 

He is dressed in funeral attire. A black button up, worn and faded from use, dark slacks with a small tear on the ankle. Black dress shoes, dirty and scuffed from his time in the graveyard. 

His wavy blond hair falls past hazy blue eyes, chewed and chapped lips pulled tight as he ambles forward. His calloused hands reach into his pockets to pull forth an old rosarie, its gray beads and cross glimmering in the faded sunlight. 

His thumb rubs against the beads slowly as he kneels by the young woman's grave. Sniffling hard he holds back his tears and lets out a shaky sigh. His eyes read the stone over and over, hoping that somehow the name would change. 

“Lucy Jackson, Born January third 1960, died 1982. A loving sister and friend.” 

With a shutter, silent tears manage to slip past long eyelashes, down a soft and flushed cheek, falling to the dirt like the first drops of rain before a long storm. 

“Jacob?” a voice calls, deep and rough. 

The blond man's head whips up suddenly, a hand flying out to wipe the moisture from his eyes, to no avail. The dam had broken. His normally calm, almost blank face is warped with agony.  Lips pulling back in a snarl as his jaw clenched shut. Brows furrowed as he gripped at his rosarie tighter. His voice is caught in his chest as a taller man trudges over. 

The man wears an old brown leather coat over a black tee shirt, faded blue jeans covering his legs, a tear across one knee. A pair of brown boots cutting through the grass as he draws closer.  He has a sharp and angular face. his chin and neck covered in a five o clock shadow. A large hand reaches up to awkwardly  scratch at the stubble. Thick brows drawn close as he joins the other at the grave. 

Lowering himself down into a squat beside the blond man he takes a moment to glance at the headstone, reading it once over before sighing low. A tanned hand coming up to remove his brown leather Stetson hat. Holding it in a loose grip. Chestnut colored hair flutters about his face in the autumn breeze. 

“I dropped by your house, figured you would be here.” The man says, his voice hushed, only slightly louder than the breeze. His deep brown eyes locked with Jacobs, their intensity forcing the weeping man to avert his gaze to the ground. He tries to muster his voice back, sniffling loudly as he tries once again to calm himself. His face twisting as he forces a neutral expression. Despite this the tears continue to fall. 

“We saw each other a few days ago Laz…she got a scholarship, god she was so happy. She talked for an hour after the letter arrived. How she would get to move out of Rosewood. We could move out of Rosewood… she was going to become a lawyer.” Jacob whispers. Hands trembling slightly as he shakes his head.

“Please tell me you have a suspect.” 

Laz pauses, chewing on his cheek before he speaks. A hand comes to rest on Jacobs shoulder.

“We do have suspects. Laura at the Gas Station mentioned seeing her get into a red Austin allegro…based on that , I got a warrant for a room at the Loger motel. I have my fingers crossed it's a quick case.”

Jacob nods before turning his body to face the detectives. 

“Whoever did this…I would pay to see them hang. They don't deserve the air they breathe”

“I can do my best in accordance with the law. “ 

Laz says,  holding the smaller man's shoulder in a comforting grip. His eyes filled with silent sympathy.

“You saw her on my table. She was in agony "Jacob says before he wraps his arms around himself. Trembling as visions of Lucy's body on his embalming table filled his mind.

The rope marks around her blackened wrists. All of her fingernails and toenails missing, having been torn off. Throat cut so deep that she was nearly decapitated, blood all over ripped and muddy clothes. Her once hopeful and soft eyes warped with fear. 

Laz shivers at the thought, his own stomach churning at the visual once again. 

He couldn't help but feel lost. He never had seen Jacob cry at a funeral, never had to step away from an autopsy for a breather, and certainly never saw him vengeful, with hate and violence swimming in tear full eyes. The normally stoic mortician crumbling on the grass. 

“I know…he will get what's coming to him. I swear it to you. As a friend.” he promises, dropping to sit down at the man’s side then yanking him against his chest. Strong arms wrapping around Jacobs body. After a moment the mortician's shaky hands come up to coil around his waist. Holding on as if he was going to fall into the open mouth of hell. 

“Please” Jacob whispers as he rests his forehead against the shoulder of Lazs jacket. His sobs fell silent as the mountains began to awaken, the sound of birds calling and trees shifting in the breeze, leaves tumbling to the earth.  

“When was the last time you slept?” Laz asks as he gets a better look at his friend's face, noting the dark circles and redness in his eyes. 

Jacob shakes his head and looks away. 

“ I think you can guess,” he whispers, his expression falling completely blank. As if a switch had been turned off, or he had run out of energy to cry. 

“Come on, I'll walk you home… you need time to lay down." Laz slowly clambers to his feet, pulling Jacob up with him. 

There was little resistance from the blond man as he was led away from the graveyard, stumbling as the exhaustion began to creep up on him. Eyes heavy as he ached for the warm embrace of his sofa. 

Laz keeps a hand on him, leading the young man like he was a zombie, eventually  reaching the Connors funeral home. Built in 1903 by Jacobs grandparents, it served as both the only mortuary in Rosewood, and the Connors family house. 

The old blue siding faded from wind and rain. The black shutters in need of some minor repairs and a fresh coat of paint. The old wooden front steps creaking loudly as the pair ascend  them. 

After a moment Jacob reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a rusted house key, inserting it into the brass lock, turning it with a loud clunk. The Black door whines as it swings open into the mudroom. 

Laz relinquishes his hold on his friend as they step inside, toeing off his boots as Jacob did the same. Leaving their shoes at the door the pair enters a spacious living room. The gray walls adorned with different crosses and pictures of saints. An ornate mirror sits over a large brick fireplace, full of the ashes of last night's fire. In the center of the room is an old couch, its once bright red color faded by time and use. A white knit blanket is draped over one arm and an old pillow, likely dragged downstairs by Jacob, sits crumbled at the other end.

A small table sits in front of the sofa. A frayed bible lay open on the surface. Laz sighs as he notes the familiar surroundings, before turning to Jacob. 

“Why don't you go get changed into something comfy and take a nap. I'll draw the curtains” he says, attempting to shoo the man into his room. After a long pause Jacob seems to register the taller man's words. Turning slowly he stumbles towards the set of stairs at the far end of the room. Holding onto the old banister he makes his way to the master bedroom. 

Meanwhile Laz walks to the large living room window, taking a moment to stare out. The home has a great view of all of Rosewood. He can see the church Jacob attends  each Sunday, despite the difference in faith. He can see his highschool, the police department. All of the small businesses and restaurants that line the main street. 

With a sigh he grabs hold of the black curtains and yanks them shut, some light still managing to shine through, but it seemed to dim as clouds rolled into the valley.

Turning around, Laz watches as Jacob trudges back downstairs, no longer in his mourning clothes and instead dressed in a pair of black shorts and a tee shirt. His hair askew from running his hands through it. 

The detective sighs and nods offering a soft smile as the man gravitates towards the sofa. Wordlessly flopping back into the cushions with a loud huff. The couch groans under the sudden weight. Laz leans against the back as he watches the mortician shove his face into the pillow and wrestle with the old quilt, eventually pulling it over himself. 

“Get some sleep, if you need anything, call the station and if i'm not there then call my house.” Laz instructs watching his friend fight sleep. 

“I will…you going to check that warrant tonight?”

“Yep, and I will call you if I get him.. You will know before the papers ” he smirks and pulls at the brim of his hat, earning himself a smile from Jacob's lips. 

As he walks to the door to slide his boots back on, he turns. The mortician calls out, his voice drawing slowly.

“Don't do anything stupid Laz…i'll kill ya” 

The detective smiles and shakes his head. Turning the door handle as he steps out,  calling back before the door latches behind him.

“I know”

[sir-walton-goggins]

I'm officially halfway through my novel!!