I am really failing at the "posting more when I have no day job" thing. >_>;; Ah well, in any case, I come bearing news!
First up, I'm participating in Dear Author's August giveaway extravaganza. ^__^ You can see the calendar of giveaways here (it shows the current month, so if we're still in July when you click that link, you'll have to change the month, which I'm only saying because it took me forever to realize that was why it wasn't working for me >__>;;).
Anyway, I am scheduled for a giveaway on August 2, in which I'm giving away a signed paperback from my backlist, international winners included. Megan's post is the following day -- she's giving away copies of Dance, and LT3 has its own giveaway on the 18th, so keep an eye out for that as well. ^__^ I'll try to post a link to it directly when my giveaway is live but...
Travel! I'm dragging Megan up to New York for family stuff. We're visiting my parents for a few days, and then heading over to my sister's (about 4 hours away) for wedding shenanigans. Should be good times, but we'll be on the road and out of touch a lot, so uh, replies and posting of giveaway links may be delayed (at least on my part, I am terrible at remembering things when I'm not in front of a computer).
The More Travel bit comes in with Authors After Dark, which LT3 will be hitting up in a few weeks. Me, Megan, and Sam will all be there. It's our first time at AAD, but should be good times. ^__^ We're renting an SUV to haul all the crap we're bringing, which should be fun. ^__^
In non-travel news, I've spent most of July working on three things (1) HR stuff for LT3 (which you probably don't care about ;3), (2) website stuff for LT3 (still in progress, but definitely getting there on the rehaul!), and (3) writing, mostly on my Proud to be a Vampire story, which is titled Drinker Class X and mostly deals with how I feel government would bureaucratize the hell out of vampires. :3
For the interested, an excerpt...
"Laurence Wickes?" She asked, picking through her piles of paper with her long, bright red nails even as she asked.
"Yes, ma'am," Laurence said, approaching the desk slowly, as though putting it off would make it easier.
"Fill out these forms and bring them back up when you're done," she said briskly. There was no name plate on her desk, Laurence noted, taking the clipboard and pen she handed him.
Retreating to the corner, Laurence mechanically filled out the standard medical information forms. There were a few more pages than he was used to, but that was hardly a surprise given his new medical status. Scowling, Laurence filled those pages out as quickly as he could, then shuffled them to the back. It wasn't a mature reaction, but Laurence figured he deserved a few moments of immaturity.
Finishing the last of the sheets, Laurence brought it all back to the secretary. She took them, unhooking the pages and flipping through them quickly. She stuffed them into a folder and said, "I'll let Dr. Ashdown know you're here."
Laurence took that as his cue to return to his seat. He sat down as the secretary slipped into the actual office, giving Laurence a glimpse of another dimly lit room. Was the doctor too cheap to buy electricity? Laurence slid down in his seat, running a hand through his hair and reminding himself for the hundredth time that it was just four one-hour sessions. He could handle four sessions with a stuffy shrink trying to get him to talk about his feelings.
The secretary reappeared. Her skirts were the same gold-threaded black as her corset, and Laurence watched her settle back at her desk. The shrink didn't seem to have another patient in, so unless he got off on making his patients wait—which he might, because doctors could be assholes—then Laurence should be in pretty quickly.
Why he couldn't go to the department's shrink was beyond Laurence. He knew Dr. Bornholdt. She was sick to death of dealing with his department, so it was usually pretty easy to get her to assure her that he was fine, not traumatized by his job, and that he was ready to return to active duty. Given Laurence's luck lately, he was going to get stuck with some stuffy old man who would insist on going over every iota of how Laurence felt about everything before he would maybe sign off on Laurence returning to duty.
Stifling a sigh, Laurence glanced at the bookcase nearest him, wondering if he was allowed to read any of the books on display or if he was supposed to sit there quietly and await his doom. Before he had time to do more than contemplate a few titles, the door to the inner office opened, revealing Dr. Ira Ashdown.
He was much younger than Laurence had anticipated, closer in age to Laurence than to Laurence's father. He was also much prettier than Laurence had expected. He had soft-looking dark hair that fell over his eyes, a pair of thin-rimmed spectacles perched on his nose, and a delicate looking face that made him look even younger than Laurence had initially thought. He wore black trousers that fell to his heel, a deep blue vest over top a bright white shirt, and a slightly darker blue neck cloth tied neatly at his throat. His black jacket was impeccably tailored, showcasing his slender build.
"Mr. Wickes?" he asked, and if he'd caught Laurence gawking, it didn't show on his face. Laurence stood, abruptly reminded that he wasn't here to ogle the shrink. Ashdown stepped back, holding the door open to let Laurence through. Laurence walked past him, into the office, noting that Ashdown smelled faintly sweet. Not that that meant anything; everyone had smelled faintly sweet ever since the attack.
"Have a seat," Ashdown said, gesturing to one of the chairs across from the large desk. The office itself was a bit larger than the foyer, and the desk took up much of the space. It was, as he'd seen from his brief glimpse, lighted without the use of electricity. The lanterns in the office were the type that could be shuttered, though they were currently open to their widest, spilling firelight across the furniture.
There were two chairs in front of the desk, and both were large, deep, and fully cushioned. They were a dark brown, Laurence thought, though the dim light made it near impossible to tell. There were more bookcases in here, though they held more books than curiosities. A few accolades hung on the wall behind Ashdown's desk, framed and neatly lined up. The most curious thing in the office was the large cabinet bolted to the wall, though care had been taken to paint the bolts a similar shade to the wall and cabinet itself. The cabinet was locked, with three keyholes that Laurence could see, and likely at least one he couldn't.
"What's that for?" Laurence asked, as Ashdown took his seat behind the desk. The office setup was an improvement over the department's shrink, at least. Dr. Bornholdt had a chaise in her office, and she tried to get him to lay down every time they had to talk, claiming it made it easier to discuss difficult topics. Laurence could only ever think about how awkward and uncomfortable it was.
"Grade C controlled substances," Ashdown said, as though it wasn't strange for a shrink to have any sort of controlled substances in their offices. "Now, Mr. Wickes—"
"Laurence," Laurence said, making a note to look into the legality of Ashdown having controlled substances in his office. Maybe he could blackmail his way out of the rest of his sessions, faint hope though it was, considering Ashdown would likely have lied if he was doing anything illegal.
"Laurence," Ashdown said in agreement. His voice was calm and soothing, and Laurence reluctantly gave him a point for that. "As I'm sure you're well aware, this is the first of four sessions mandated by the court. By law, I have to go through a number of things about your new status that you probably already know." Ashdown smiled wryly, and Laurence gave him another point for having at least half a sense of humor. "That will probably take up most of this session, and we'll work out a schedule for the other sessions that works for you."
"No chance I can get them all done tonight?" Laurence asked half-heartedly, drawing another small smile from Ashdown.
"Unfortunately, no," Ashdown said, picking up a large black folder and passing it over to Laurence. "The point is to make sure you're acclimating, after all. You can have a session a week, but no closer than that."
LAURENCE WICKES
DRINKER CLASS Q
Laurence stared at the label, running his fingers over it, before flipping the folder open. He would much rather be anywhere else, but ignoring the problem wasn't going to make it go away. He needed a Class A rating to be declared fit for duty, not Q, and ignoring it all would only get him a Class X rating.
"Feel free to ask any questions you have as we go through this," Ashdown said, his voice dragging Laurence back to the present.
"Can you not afford electricity?" Laurence asked, aiming for distraction. He really didn't want to go through the information in the packet, even if it was his way back to work.
Ashdown smiled again; if he was annoyed or frustrated, it didn't show on his face. There were wrinkles around his mouth and eyes, Laurence noted, so his initial assessment of Ashdown being closer to his age was probably accurate. Mid-thirties was respectable enough, Laurence decided, certainly not enough to fault Ashdown for being too young for his job.
"Most of my patients are like you, new drinkers," Ashdown said, glancing at the lantern on the corner of his desk. "You may not be experiencing any sensitivity to electric lights, but it does happen to almost half of new drinkers."
"So you do everything by lantern light?" Laurence asked, glancing around the room. There weren't nearly enough lights to make it easy to read or write for long periods of time.
"I can turn on the electric ones if you like," Ashdown offered, so there were lights hidden somewhere. "Though I should also let you know that if I'm not able to get through the state-mandated information in this session, we'll have to add another in to fit that in."
"Nah, you can leave them off," Laurence said, shrugging. "I was just curious. Never seen anyone sticking with just lamplight these days."
"Any other questions before we get started?" Ashdown asked. He had a copy of the folder Laurence held spread open in front of him. Laurence shook his head, opening the paper folder. There was about an inch of paper inside, tucked neatly in the pockets on each side of the folder. "We'll be going through everything on the left side; the right side is there for additional reference and includes the contact information for the offices you'll be dealing with to get your medicines, blood supply, and classification papers."
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