Gilgamesh and Enkidu wrestling

Oh Great Old Ones, I am writing a Novel!

Lately I have not managed to update this blog as often as I would like to. Apart from the usual reasons of dayjob and family, another thing has crept up:

I am actually writing a novel, and this time it is pretty serious. This is actually my second attempt at writing a novel. My first one was a steampunk novel, a sizable fragment of which is still on the harddrive of the computer I am writing this blog entry with. Unfortunately, that particular novel is not going anywhere any time fast.

BUT: Luna Press of beautiful Edinburgh in beautiful Scotland will publish an anthology which includes a short story that is based on a sub-plot of that novel and features most of the original main characters. Maybe there will be more in the future.

Here is a teaser for that one, it is called Heirs

Below LZ Württemberg, foothills stretched towards the horizon, slowly merging with Mount Hasan. Here, long ago one of the greatest cities of early mankind had thrived.
Two days had passed since the Prince and his team had left the Württemberg and gone on their errand. All Von Kober and his crew could do was wait, either for a message from the ground or something else. It was the something else that worried him. Too many something elses.
How strangely moods transformed perception, he thought. Down there was a magnificent, exotic, almost alien landscape. He should be sitting there, drawing sketches of the volcano in his diary. Instead, he scanned the ground and the sky. Every boulder a sniper’s hiding place. Every cart a mobile gun. Every speck on the horizon the scout of a fleet, even the goat herders made him nervous.
Von Kober almost hoped for something to happen, to give him a vent for his tension. He fixed his binoculars on yet another point in the sky. After a few moments he adjusted focus and magnification.
“Richnow, possible airship north-north-west, take a look.”
The second navigator swiveled the fixed observation telescope around, it took him a moment to find his mark.
“Confirmed, Herr Kapitän. Airship. French configuration. Heading our way.”
Von Kober hurried up the ladder to the bridge and took the master-tube.
“Attention all stations. We have just spotted a French airship. Power up the turrets but do not extend. Boiler room, I want the Württemberg able to go to full speed faster than ever before, come up with something and do it fast.”
“Herr Kapitän.,” came Richnow’s voice from below. “The airship has just gone on a parallel course to ours. Ah, there’s the name…” he paused.
“It’s the Toulon.”

The Toulon.
Every member of the Imperial Zeppelin Corps had heard of her, Captain Baquoy’s vessel. 
Captain Baquoy, a living legend.
Captain Baquoy, the French Empire’s most highly decorated captain. While on single patrol, ambushed by a pirate squadron over Siam. Came out of the engagement with six kills and not a single casualty on his side. 
Captain Baquoy, a personal friend of…
Oh my God! Albrecht thought. Is that it? Is that what is going on down there?

The project I am working on now, which is already significantly more advanced than the steampunk novel ever was, at just below 38.000 words is a completely different one. For one, I am writing it in German and it is dark fantasy, not steampunk at all.

This is the first sketch of the cover:

ObsidianSketchSmall

The final cover image is also done, alll (c) Nele Diel and all rights reserved by me. No copying, distributing, download etc. in any way shape or form without written permission (except fair use).

Some bullet points concerning the novel:

  • The main protagonist is a black, female necromancer
  • The technology level is roughly late bronze age
  • The necromancers are the good guys

So, if the updates are not coming as often as usual, now you know what I am up to.