"Why didn't you wake me?!" - "You didn't seem to want waking."
The first draft and minor cursory edit of Alien's Vice is officially sent for its developmental edit! As a recap, Alien's Vice is the sequel to my two-book plan for the Shards of Infinity series. Book One, Alien's Host, is currently out as part of the Unwrapping the Alien anthology.
I tried not to get too hung up in small wording details when giving the rough draft a once-over: the point of the developmental edit is to judge the overall plot and character development, not get hung up on wording. After incorporating feedback that comes as part of the developmental edit, I will do a more detailed stylistic and grammar edit before sending it off to the editor again for the copy edit.
Yes, I know that's a lot of edits... But I decided to focus on quality at the expense of speed.
He “oofed” as I scrambled, hands and knees digging haphazardly against his body as I pushed away to clamber off the bed. I stood pressed against the bedroom door, arms crossed on my apron-concealed chest and legs pressed together tightly.
“Why didn’t you wake me?!”
“You didn’t seem to want waking,” Kuthil Ash Kharn propped himself up on an elbow. I kept my eyes firmly on his, for his hard, marble-patterned chest was bare and led into nothing but a flap of blanket positioned precariously low on his groin, revealing the V-taper that led from his hips to…
“Not you,” I snapped. “I mean, you too. Both of you. Fuck.” I raked my hand through my hair, unsure of what the fuck I meant anymore.
Kak could have woken me up when he sensed Kuthil Ash Kharn’s presence in the bed. He’s done it before, forcing me from my dreams. Why did he let me sleep through that? What had I done?
He rose up in my chest and I took a deep, slow exhale out of the subtle pang of nausea. I seethed, stifling him as he attempted to flood me with some sort of… reassurance? Acknowledgement? Alarm? I didn’t need that now. I needed that hours ago!
I couldn’t help myself—my eyes strayed to Kuthil Ash Kharn as he sat up in the bed, arms rippling with striated muscle. He mercifully adjusted the blanket more securely over his nether region, but the knowing glint in his eye made me want to punch him. “Your sleep betrays you, Layla Oberman.”
I had nothing to say to either of them. I realized I was standing in my underwear covered by a mussed up thigh-length apron, staring at the naked alien before me like an idiot, unsure whether to be very angry or very aroused.
“I have to go feed the chickens,” I blurted. He raised an eyebrow, presumably at my sudden claiming of responsibility for the chicken coop.
A smile played on his lips as I fumbled for the doorknob and backed myself out of the room, refusing to turn around and give him a glimpse of my nearly bare ass—as if I didn’t just spend the night pressing it against his naked body. I willed my cheeks to stop burning.