But it’s not over yet.
Word count: 59,233
Deaths: 11 and a 1/2 (somebody was resuscitated)
Broken Moon is nearing the climax, after which will be an abrupt and breathtaking downward spiral towards the apocalypse, which my intrepid protagonists may or may not be able to avert.
HOW WAS YOUR THANKSGIVING?
I’m more grateful and philosophical about Thanksgiving every year. Part of me wants to whine and complain about little things, but the grown-up in me reminds me of how lucky I am, and then I have this blissful moment of absolute happiness as I realize just how much I have going for me.
This is my writer’s mind, you understand. I might be a little bit bipolar. Just a weency little bit.
AND SPEAKING OF WEENCY, my wonderful nephew and I had a wonderful time catching up on the Eency Weency Spider games and general madness running around the house screaming and leaping off the stairs and driving his mother absolutely insane. I miss that. When I get out of school and EJ and I can harass her fulltime, she will probably want to kill me with a shovel and bury me in the backyard under the flowers for fertilizer.
“Why are you so cynical?” I said. “Maybe you don’t appreciate what we do, but there are hundreds of humans who do. When you have superpowers, you might as well do something good with them.”
“That wasn’t the philosophy of the early alphas,” he said. “You ever wonder where they got the idea for super villains? Look down your family tree.”
I scoffed. “Please.”
“Why do you think there’re Purgers?”
My condescending response froze halfway up my throat. “What? What are…?” Oh, frak. I stood up. “What are Purgers, Gem? Are they prets?”
He heard the urgency in my voice. “No. They’re humans. Marine type guys. Back in the day, when alphas went off the tracks, they hunted them.” Pause. “Why are you asking?”
I couldn’t answer. I was hearing something.
“Aura?” His voice grew darker, concerned. “Aura, why are you asking me about Purgers?”
“Farren,” I said, and my voice wavered. No answer. The boot steps stopped. “Gem,” I said, my voice a breath. “They’re here.”