Choices - The opening

[ldyofshadows]

I'm feeling especially brave...or suicidal right now.  This is a lil' over 5 pages b/c it gets through the introduction (sort of) all three main chars and the world itself.  Look forward to hearing something, good or bad.

The planned 45th Anniversary Gala of the Bureau of Non-Human Species had been the talk of Tampa for more than six months.  Plates ran between a thousand and fifteen hundred a head; all funds gathered were being donated to the Red Cross.  The Bureau, more so than memories of the Great Coming Out, was a monument to the fact that the non-human races, vampires, mages, weres, dhampires and half-demons, no longer had to hide their differences from the humans.  Instead they were protected under the laws just as humans were.  The Bureau served two main purposes: it gave the humans a sense of being protected against the non-humans, with its Investigator unit so non-humans could capture and bring in non-humans.  Its primary focus was to serve the non-humans though, so there was a licensing unit for the mages after they had undergone training in their powers, a registration service for vampires to ease access to blood supplies, along with other units more applicable to the weres, dhampires and half-demons.

The air on the evening of the Gala was heavy, thick with the threat of rain that hadn’t fallen.  Athdara MacKechnie, head liaison to the vampire’s Council of Nine, was running late.  She’d been expected at the Gala by seven thirty at the latest to mingle and celebrate at the instruction of the Bureau’s director, Grant Price.  Her attendance at the function was mandatory as she was also one of the two guests of honor at the function, in commemoration of her part both in the Great Coming Out of the 1920’s when the non-humans finally made their presence known to the humans and her part in getting the Bureau established during the Civil Rights movement of the 1950’s and 1960’s.

As she pulled her Mercedes convertible up to the valet parking attendant at the Imperial Hotel, she glanced at her niece, Sarah Hensley.  “You do know I hate you for making me come, right?”

“Now dear,” the elderly woman said comfortingly, “You like parties.”

Sarah was the descendant of Caila, Athdara’s half-sister, and had lived with her since Athdara had gone to France during World War II to rescue her after her parents died.  No one and nothing was more important than her niece and so she’d grudgingly consented to attend the Gala.  But even Sarah hadn’t been able to convince her to go until after she’d satisfied her fear that the other guest of honor, the founder of Savage Enterprises, was sending the current CEO of the corporation in his stead.  Anthony Caldwell, one of the oldest vampires known, had founded the company in the early 1930’s.  It had grown into an international conglomeration on the strength of its research division, SRI, which had focused solely on research and development to meet the needs and demands of the non-humans of the world.  Savage was also responsible for funding a great deal of the Bureau’s activities, relieving the American tax-payers of some of the burden for the Bureau.

Athdara hated no one more in the world than she the arrogant billionaire, who most saw as a philanthropist and playboy since he’d stepped down from position as CEO seventeen years earlier.  She had had the misfortune of knowing him when she was human.  Only a very small group of people were privy to how she had known the bastard.  It was her darkest shame, that she’d been his mistress, especially in light of the fact that he’d slaughtered the young twin boys she’d always considered her brothers when she’d ended their two-year arrangement.

Smiling politely at the attendant who’d opened her car door, she took his hand and stepped out of the car.  Sarah had picked out the dress especially for tonight, not willing to trust the disaster that was Athdara’s fashion sense, and she supposed it was flattering enough.  The gown was dark green silk, with a full skirt, high collar and long-sleeves.  She never wore anything that would reveal skin below her chin into public.  Too many questions might be asked, although she accepted that she was probably overly sensitive about the subject.

Waiting for Sarah to join her at the entrance to the hotel, Athdara looked out over the parking lot.  It was filled with expensive cars and limousines, testament to the exclusive A-list caliber expected attendees.  Having looked at the list, she knew there were three US Senators, fourteen Representatives, the state’s governor, along with numerous celebrities expected.  The proof of so many famous faces being expected had been in the barricade she’d had to drive through that the Bureau had gotten permission to put up to keep the members of the media at bay.  A few select journalists had been invited as well, to satisfy the media hounds.

Putting on her public face, she stepped through the doors and led her niece through the lobby toward the ballroom where the Gala was actually taking place.  Deirdre Hensley, normally the day-time receptionist at the Bureau, had been drafted at the last minute to check off guests as they arrived.  She was Sarah’s granddaughter, and like Sarah, was clearly related to Athdara.  They all shared the same basic facial features, although Sarah’s hair in her youth and Deidre’s currently were black compared to the deep copper hue of the vampire’s.  The hair was attributed to Athdara’s Scottish father, who Caila had not shared, but Athdara had inherited the luminous green eyes of their infamous mother, the courtesan L’Emeraude.  Deidre beamed as she saw them, studied her list and nodded before turning to the caller next to her and whispering their names.

As the pair stepped into the glittering ballroom, their names were called out to the assemblage.  That touch had been Director Price’s, insisting he wanted the affair to have an old-world touch, from an era when parties routinely made announcements as their guests arrived.  Athdara had vigorously debated the point but in the end had lost.  Giving those guests that looked in her direction the brilliant smile that had graced more than one magazine cover, she headed for the nearest waiter she saw.

Sarah broke off from her to find their assigned seats in the dining hall.  Athdara knew they would be toward the front of the second room, hated it but accepted the way it was.  It hadn’t mattered to the committee deciding who their two honorees would be that there had been hundreds involved in the process of bringing non-humans to the forefront of human attention.  Somehow she’d been the one who got noticed, who had testified before Congress during the push to get the Bureau established.   All she’d ever wanted was to make the world a little safer, for humans and non-humans alike, not the fame or infamy that had come with the efforts.

She snatched a glass from the tray the waiter was carrying and sniffed it cautiously.  Blood/champagne cocktails were not her favorite, but it would have to do.  Nothing less than a couple fifths of scotch would ease her nerves that night.  The same vampiric metabolism and biological functions that kept them physically at the age they were converted also made it very difficult to become drunk on regular types of alcohol.  She spied Grant across the room and as she sipped the drink, she wound her way through the room, stopping from time to time to talk with guests.

As she reached the director’s side, she frowned up at him.  He was impeccably attired in a black tuxedo, and even in his early fifties he was a handsome man.  “You know I’m still not talking to you for this, right?”

He grinned down at the petite redhead.  Athdara was no more than five foot four barefoot compared to his nearly six foot frame, but she turned more heads than he did usually.  “Of course not.”  Grant appreciated lovely women, as most men did, and Athdara was precisely that.  She’d been converted in her mid twenties, so retained eternal youth and had watched Grant progress over the past fifteen years from a unit chief to deputy director and finally four years ago Director of the Bureau.  She’d remained in the same position she’d held since rejoining the Bureau fifteen years ago, vampire liaison, because she didn’t want more attention than she had to.  She’d been asked by the former director to put in her application for the position of director, but had refused.  That hadn’t stopped Grant from trying to push her into the role of deputy director though.

“Good turn out,” she muttered, looking back over the crowd.  “Sorry for being late.”

“The main event isn’t until eight.  Harry Myers from Savage isn’t here yet,” he commented.

Harry had taken the reins when Caldwell had stepped down seventeen years earlier, presumably to move on to other interests.  She’d met the striking mage on more than one occasion in her work for the Bureau.  They were putting the final touches on a merger of the Bureau’s research division and SRI, and because of her position as Grant’s de-facto deputy director, she’d been pulled into it.  Harry Myers was just one of hundreds of examples of just why she’d helped bring the non-humans out of the shadows. 

Prior to the Great Coming Out, the non-humans had frequently been at each other’s throats because they were beyond the laws of humanity and there were great species rivalries.  The vampires of course thought they were top of the food chain, looking down on everyone else as a food source and were traditional enemies of almost everyone.  Mages thought they were special, with powers ranging from telepathy and telekinesis to true spell powers.  The dhampires, which many considered hybrid human/vampire crosses, unfortunately, had been everyone’s favorite scapegoat.  They were neither as strong nor as fast as a vampire, but were longer-lived than the humans with some of the telepathic gifts of vampires and mages.  The weres – no one had dealt much with the weres until the Coming Out because the weres had preferred to remain in the wild, far from the influence of mankind. 

Sipping her drink, she sighed.  “I’m only staying until after the ceremony, Grant.  You got me here, I’ll make my little speech, and then I’m leaving.”

He patted her shoulder comfortingly.  “If you can speak in front of Congress and convince them to create an entire bureau that they really didn’t want to create, you can deal with a little appreciation, Dara.  It’s only one night and then you can disappear back into your office until it’s time to make the announcement about SRI and the Bureau.”

“Gee thanks ever so,” she said drily.  She spent a great deal of time trying to avoid thinking about the upcoming merger because it had Anthony’s fingerprints all over it.

As she started to drain her glass, the caller boomed out, “Mrs. Patricia Redding and Mr. Anthony Caldwell.”  Athdara choked on her cocktail as she swung around to stare toward the entrance.  Just walking through the doorway was a rather attractive, willowy blonde woman in a dazzling gold and blue gown.  Athdara’s attention though was riveted on the tall man next to her.  Anthony Caldwell hadn’t changed a bit, as might be expected, still incredibly tall, dark blonde hair which just touched the top of his shirt collar.  He’d been stunning in evening clothes in the 1800’s, but in the modern equivalent, the tuxedo, he was breath-taking.  Wide shoulders that made no secret of the strength he had even were he not a vampire tapering down to a trim waist, he radiated power, control and above all arrogance – at least to her, then and now.  His most incredible feature, the one that still haunted her dreams occasionally she’d deny it to her permanent grave, were his eyes.  Brown so dark they frequently appeared black, it had felt as if he could see straight into someone’s head or even down to their soul.  In retrospect, Athdara acknowledged, he probably could and did, damn him.

Even across the ballroom from him, she felt tendrils of lust curl through her belly, and despised herself for feeling any sense of attraction for the murderous bastard.  A great deal of practice at being in the public eye kept any sign of her feelings from her face after the initial shock wore off.  However, before she could look away, return her focus to Grant, Anthony’s head turned in her direction and their eyes met.  Separated by the length of the room, it was still like a punch to the gut to look at him.  He gave an enigmatic smile and before she could block the contact, his thoughts had touched hers.  Hello love.

[pilot27407]

OK, I’ll tell you the same thing others told me… too much telling, not enough showing. We don’t get to understand your MS, there is no POV, and there’s not much to make us turn the pages. Try a prologue. In it you could tell us briefly about the convention, what’s going on in their world and anything you decide that we must know to understand the premises. We need to have a feel of time and place. Once you start the story, you better introduce us to your Mc, through internal dialogue try to get us into her head, and show us what she sees and feels.
At this point, you’re telling us, then you have a one line dialogue and get back into the telling mode. There’s not enough action, suspense, character or intrigue to GRAB out attention. Your wordsmithing is fine but you must give your reader more than words. 

[Lizzerbear]

I think you've definitely got a way with words and your idea is so fun! 

But Pilot is right about the telling v. showing. You've delivered a whole lot of information right off the bat and it's too much too fast, I think. I'd suggest beginning with Athdara pulling up at the gala, turning to her elderly neice (love it! And it'll intrigue the reader into wanting to know how that's possible), and then slowly trickle out info throughout the beginning of the novel about who these characters are and how things came to be.

It's a tall order, but I think it's necessary to keep the reader turning the pages. Good luck!

[Oubliette]

Because I am a conformist and do what is popular so I don't have to think too hard myself, I am going to agree with the comments of those whom responded prior to me.  Too much information is in there, not enough story.

It's important to explain the world.  It really is.  People don't like feeling lost.  However, we also like to learn about the world by experiencing what makes it different from our own vicariously through the characters.

I think some conversations, either overheard or directly through the MC's mouth to comment on the merger, or to comment on the non-humans rights, or tell more about the Gala might help with the flow. Of course, you don't want some long speech that is just an information dump.  Just a suggestion, and may not be the best one out there.

One thing I will loudly say is that Anthony's arrival was predictable.  I think that you should not mention Anthony until he actually arrives.  Then after Athdara spits out or chokes (*goes back to re-read*... oh chokes is right) on her cocktail, only then do you go into the past.  Hint that there is a reason she was reluctant to attend, but only unmask him as the reason once his presence is actually in the story.

Otherwise you've got a great idea going here.  I like the premise.  The writing gets a little dry at times, but again, you've got the show-versus-tell issue to work on.  Don't feel bad.  Almost everyone I know gets cautioned about this; it doesn't mean one is a bad writing.  It just means that the dry fact-based style of reporting events is not quite as engaging or appropriate for story writing.

[ldyofshadows]

Thanks Oubliette (love the name, btw).  Of course I find some of that amusing b/c my tendency has always been more dialogue, less show...except in this one chapter.  I'm not sure why/what I was thinking, other than I needed/wanted to get the information out there as quickly as possible.

Given it's a romance, figured it would be rather obvious Anthony would show up, buuuut...I'll try reworking it.  Good suggestions.  Ty.

[Oubliette]

Ha ha ha another dialoguer (yes I am aware that is not a word; but this is not a formal document so neener neener neener) in the midst.  I am a dialogue heavy writer.  Some people like it.  Some people don't.

I also understand you want to get the information out there as quick as possible to hook people into the premise of your story.  However, there's (hopefully) the summary on the back of the book when it gets published to tell people the premise, so you won't have to worry about getting it all out in a big bang at the beginning. Of course, sometimes bookback summaries are way off, but... well... uh... that's a rant for another day.

[ldyofshadows]

Threw out the old (relatively speaking) and tried again.  Blah.  I didn't like the old version to begin with, but...

Athdara looked up from her book as the limousine eased itself into a small hangar at the airfield.  The Savage Enterprises corporate jet was already parked and from the quiet of the hangar, the engines had already shut down.  She hadn’t thought they were running that late.  Folding down a corner to mark her place, she shut the book and stretched.  It had been a long ride from her home half an hour north of Tampa, but pleasant enough since she hadn’t been driving.  When Grant Price, the director for the Bureau of Non-Human Affairs had called her two hours earlier, she hadn’t been nearly as serene about the situation as she’d made herself since.

“Why aren’t you able to pick up Mr. Myers, Grant,” she’d asked in disbelief.

“Apparently a crisis has arisen that I need to go into the office personally for, Dara.  Can you be ready by the time the car gets out to you?  Sarah can drive herself, can’t she?”

Her elderly niece wasn’t that elder, she’d thought, but nodded even knowing Grant wouldn’t see it.  “Yes, but…”

“I appreciate it.  Harry and his wife should be landing in about an hour, but I’ll send word ahead that you're running late.
”
And that had been that.  She slowly climbed out of the vehicle, brushing out the folds of her long skirt.  The 45th Anniversary Gala for the Bureau dictated formal dress and Sarah had bullied her into going shopping for it.  Her gown was dark green silk, with a full skirt and long sleeves, despite the sweltering mid-July Florida heat and Sarah assured her that it was at the height of fashion.  As her stockinged feet touched the cool cement of the hangar, she muttered to herself and reached back to grab the matching shoes and slip them on.

The door to the jet was just opening as she turned toward it and she straightened her shoulders.  She’d had the good fortune to meet Harry Myers, the current CEO of Savage, on numerous occasions and recently had spent many hours on the phone with him trying to arrange the upcoming merger of the Bureau’s research department with Savage’s SRI division.  Walking across the hangar, she saw a willowy blonde in a form-fitting blue and gold dress step onto the ladder and descend, glancing back over her shoulder as she laughed.  Dara paused, eyes narrowing slightly.  That wasn’t Harry Myers’ wife Tiffany, and their daughter was only eleven, so clearly it wasn’t her.

Movement from the exit hatch to the plane drew her attention back to it as she resumed her walk to the foot of the stairway.  The tall man exiting was not Harry Myers, but rather Savage’s founder and original CEO Anthony Caldwell.  Her blood turned cold and only through a great deal of effort did she keep herself from bolting.  Harry Myers had been supposed to attend in Caldwell’s absence, as Caldwell was actually one of the two honorees for the evening, but his scheduled had supposedly blocked his personal attendance.

The young woman smiled warmly at her.  “Athdara MacKechnie, well isn’t this a nice surprise!  We were expecting Director Price to meet us, weren’t we, Anthony?”

“Yes we were.” 

“You’re not Harry Myers,” was the only thing Dara managed to blurt, and she was actually proud she got that much out.  Shock had dulled out everything else, followed swiftly by panic.  She’d only agreed to attend the Gala once she’d been sure he wasn’t.  Sarah was going to be at the Gala…how was she supposed to keep Anthony from seeing her niece?

“Very observant,” he responded drily.  “Did my assistant not call the director regarding the change?” 

The other woman chuckled.  “I don’t think she did, judging by Ms. MacKechnie’s surprise.”  She held out her hand.  “I’m Patricia Redding.  Anthony drafted me into joining him last night when Harry called him with pneumonia.”

Remembering her manners, Dara quickly shook the woman’s hand.  Get them into the car, make nice talk until they got to the Gala, and then she could retrieve Sarah and get them both somewhere far, far away from Caldwell.  “It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Redding.  My apologies for seeming a bit startled.  It’s just, well, no one was expecting him even though he was one of the honorees tonight.  If you’ll come this way, we can be on our…”  She paused, glancing to where the limousine was waiting in a patch of sunlight from the open hangar doors.  “Ahh, tolerance.  What’s your tolerance for sunlight?”

“It’s late enough you needn’t concern yourself…Ms. MacKechnie,” he said.  The pause was only a fraction of a second, but she heard it; she also recognized the slight tinge of amusement in his deep voice.  It gave her a slight sense of relief, that he wasn’t going to make it plain to his companion that they’d met 200 years prior.  Probably Patricia was his girlfriend and he didn’t think it would go over well that an ex-mistress was their ride to the Gala.  “I usually have little trouble once sunset is only a couple of hours away.  I’m not that old yet.”

Anthony Caldwell was over twelve hundred years old, one of the oldest vampires still walking the earth.  He looked exactly as he had when she’d been human, damn him and the gift of agelessness that came with conversion.  The voice was very different though; he’d lost the upper-crust British accent.  Then again, from what she knew, he’d been in America for nearly a century so it made sense that it would have changed.  “Ah, well, good then.” 

Climbing back into the car, she grabbed her book and slid to the far end of the seat.  As the other two joined her, she unobtrusively slid her feet out of her shoes, grateful the long skirt covered the movement and bare feet.  She never wore shoes if she didn’t have to, a long habit dating back to childhood.  Patricia cocked her head at the book she was holding.  “What are you reading?”

Dara held it out to the other woman.  “The Tempest.  Do you like Shakespeare?”

She gave a delicate shudder.  “Heavens, no.  My husband drags me to the theater every couple of years to see one of those plays.  Between work and the twins, I rarely have time to do more than read a few pages of the newspaper.”

Some things haven’t changed, have they love, came the silent query in her thoughts.  Jerking her attention from Patricia, she met Anthony’s dark eyes, the eyes that had haunted her dreams for two hundred years.

Stay out of my head, you son of a bitch, she snapped before she could stop herself.  Damn it, she had been intending to be polite, regardless of what he did or said.  The mental contact had been so unexpected though…

Tsk tsk, my dear.  That’s not very nice.  His mental touch withdrew although there was a hint of laughter left behind.

“Husband, twins?”  She returned her attention to Patricia with an effort.  “You’re not...”

Patricia giggled.  “Oh lord, I’m sorry.  Did you think Anthony and I were…”  The giggle turned into outright laughter for a long moment.  “Forgive me, Ms. MacKechnie.  I don’t mean to laugh, but the idea is just so odd.  I’ve known Anthony since I was a baby; he’s my godfather!”

Dara’s green eyes blinked rapidly, trying to process that.  “Godfather?”

She nodded.  “I’m dhampire-born, and he was working on a couple of projects with my parents around the time I came around.  They asked and apparently he said yes, so I’ve known him my entire life.  Oh god…You thought he was my boyfriend?”

Even eighty plus years since the great Coming Out of the non-humans, it was strange to hear a dhampire admit to being one.  They were considered little more than bizarre half-breed vampires, stronger than humans but weaker than vampires themselves, with a need for blood periodically and an extended life-span.  Vampires had never gotten along with them, and in fact had gleefully hunted them until the mid-20th century when the laws were changed and updated to include non-humans in protections and the dhampires profited most by no longer being afraid to reveal themselves from to their stronger kindred.  “It seemed a logical conclusion and you do seem the general type he’s been photographed with in the past.”  And the only reason she knew that little factoid was because her secretary at the Bureau never failed to point out an article when the handsome billionaire was featured, be it on a Top-50 Bachelors, or simply some press-conference he’d given for Savage.

You wouldn’t be jealous, now would you?

Refusing to rise to the bait a second time in just a few minutes, Dara ignored the comment as Patricia shook her head.  “True.”