YES! I am on cloud nine again...
I heard from the publisher and our book cover was approved exactly as submitted! They did an awesome job of creating the spine and back of the book to match the front cover we designed. I could not be happier with their work! Alas, though, I am enduring a little bit of a trial concerning it because I want to make a slight change and the link they gave me to make my suggested changes is not functioning... I put in a call to the right peeps and now have to wait. Oh well... I pulled out my hair earlier about it, but now I am calm. Calm... Calm... shalom... shalom... ahhhh...
So here is the bone. I am sending out a delicious bone. I love this bone so much that I am only sharing one-third of it with you... The other two-thirds will be available on the web site under the tab LOOSE RABBITS...
Here is the delicious meaty bone concerning how Rakum (vampire) Javier ended up with Elder Roman. In the novel, their relationship is important to the plot, so this sweet partial chapter will mean much more when you get to read the novel. But it is still tasty by itself. Have a bite if you like. This Rabbit is yummy...
(the following is a rough draft and will likely meet some changes before it is posted to the web site in December... it is a sneak peak Bone for you my sweets..)
REMEMBER what a Loose Rabbit is... [hyperlink] these chapters are NOT in the novel. They are LOOSE... providing info and back-story, and although perfectly in sync with the novel, they do not directly effect the plot of RABBIT:CHASING BETH RIDER. Think of them as 'deleted scenes'...
RABBIT: Loose Rabbits
Roman and Javier / The Early Years
Year 1877
It was midnight when eight-year-old Javier arrived at Roman’s secluded log cabin in the wild forests outside Montreal. All legs and arms, Javier stumbled through the front door, accompanied by a Rakum Senior student who had escorted him from their burned-out Group-Lair fifty miles South. The youngster took in the room with huge green eyes, his lips parted in a comical ‘O’. His overseers had trimmed his black hair short for the trip and his skin was milky white. He wore rough canvas trousers two sizes too big and a stained white cotton shirt with sleeves two inches too long. Roman regarded the wafer-thin pup with an amused grin and shooed off his chaperone leaving the two of them alone.
Elder and proselyte.
Barely a proselyte, really.
At a new eight, Javier smelled more human than not and Roman breathed through his mouth more than once in disdain. He was not accustomed to such young ones, but soon enough, he’d begin to transform the boy properly. Purge the weak, beggarly elements and replace them with immeasurable, unstoppable Rakum gifts. Born to a mortal woman by a Rakum Father, Javier would grow much like a human boy until he reached thirteen. At that point, his metabolism would slow gradually until he aged only days as the years passed him by. As his appointed guardian and Elder, Roman was expected to prepare him for an eternity of life at the top of the food chain.
Little Javier stopped in the middle of the room, took in the four walls slowly, his mouth still agape, and then faced his superior. When Roman did not acknowledge him for several long seconds, he shifted his weight to one foot and bent his knee, throwing his balance to one side. He looked like a tiny gymnast, double-jointed and loose-limbed, perhaps able to contort himself into any number of odd shapes. Roman pondered all this as he watched the kid bear up under the scrutiny. He wanted to know what kind of pup they’d sent him. What was he up against with this orphan? This would be the youngest Rakum Roman had ever discipled. Yet he was up to the challenge. The Fathers requested him specifically, and that had to count for something.
Roman softened his gaze and attempted to send the boy a telepathic directive.
“Come close, Javier.” Roman watched the kid’s face, but gauged no reaction. His eyes were wide and intelligent, taking in every detail; yet he heard nothing telepathically.
“Come close, Javier.” Roman said, his voice low, and the boy stepped up without hesitation. “What stage did you complete before your Group-Lair was destroyed?”
“Stage five, Sir.” Javier responded in a thick French accent.
“Parlez-vous du français?” Roman asked and the boy nodded shyly. “
Quelles langues parlez-vous?”
If the kid spoke more than two languages, it would suggest a higher-than-average IQ. Roman spoke fifty mortal languages and was prepared to test the boy in each and every one if he showed a propensity for linguistics.
“English, German, Spanish, French and Hungarian.” Javier answered in accented English, attempting to dazzle his new Elder by his accomplishments. Roman nodded with approval.
“We will get along fine, young man.” Roman allowed a small smile and Javier’s eyes sparkled. Roman grimaced.
The kid was a romantic.
From that point forward, Roman made an effort to disguise his affection. Very rarely, a Rakum was born with an over-developed sense of joviality. Now he understood why the Fathers chose him. They wanted to test him. Roman had never missed with a proselyte and the Fathers were capricious. They sought to trip him up; or at least see if they could.
Roman cleared his throat gruffly and laid a heavy hand on the youth’s shoulder. “Stage five. How efficient are you?”
Stage Five was drawing blood from a human victim, eventually against their will. Even an eight-year-old Rakum was expected to procure his own food, and Roman wanted to know where to begin.
“Top of my class, Sir.” Javier responded, and puffed out his narrow chest.
“Are you ready for Stage Six, then?” Roman removed his hand from Javier’s shoulder and pushed up the sleeve on his right arm. Stage Six was initiated by an Elder’s blood. The immature Rakum would experience extreme pleasure at ingestion, but crippling pain as the Elder’s time-enriched blood seeped into his system. And the leeching effect of Stage Six lasted several nights.
Despite knowing all of this, Javier’s green eyes widened and he nodded his head.
“Let’s see. Show me.” Roman put out his arm and Javier hesitated.
“Sir?”
“Yes?”
“Can I go to the bathroom.” Javier frowned and took on a puppy-dog expression. Roman sighed and nodded.
“That way.” He gestured through the hall door and watched the kid shuffle out of the room at a trot. He was cute and worse, he knew it. Roman shook his head. Why didn’t they send him a brute? A wild-child that no one else could control?
Roman looked up at the ceiling, memories of other Rakum he’d discipled over the years filtered down to him. There had been dozens. But somehow this one connected with him on a deeper level.
Roman closed his eyes.
Discipling a youth through First Ritual required vicious and violent instruction. It was easier with the brutes.
So much easier.
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