Tuesday, August 12, 2014

Teaser Tuesday - Wish in One Hand

Dipping back into the more recent manuscripts languishing on my hard drive while they wait for publication, here's a bit from Wish in One Hand (or Djinnocide - whichever title blows your skirt up higher.)

Hope ya like it.

Basil said this would be ‘easy-peasy’ (his words, not mine). Hearing my centuries-old business partner use the phrase, in and of itself, should’ve been a heads-up. But, no. I took him at his word and dropped into upstate New York blind.

I closed my eyes.  Before the breeze of teleportation could ruffle my hair, I stood in what could’ve been a storeroom at the Louvre. Except I knew better. Some guy with more cash than ethics whipped out his double-platinum, diamond-encrusted Visa and bought a great many things he should never own. Judging from what I saw at first glance, this Master was one naughty monkey. No fewer than a dozen works of art reported lost or stolen graced his gallery. In one corner even sat a Rodin missing from a prestigious Italian museum.

Too bad he hadn’t halted at owning another person.

Growing up as the daughter of a cat-burglar has its advantages. But as my fingers itched toward a priceless Faberge egg, I admitted being Reggie’s child had disadvantages, too. One big one: brushing the egg’s cloisonné surface started an alarm-ageddon loud enough to blow out eardrums in Pennsylvania.

I jerked my hand away and threw a quick wish. The alarms stopped, but the damage didn’t. Even in this sleepy backwoods, I had ten minutes tops before the authorities arrived.

My senses made short work of locating the genie in question. His sanctuary—his lamp away from home, so to speak—sat nestled on a velvet bed in an ornate showcase. Cringing over the cliché of a genie living in a lamp, I smashed the glass and snatched the offensive thing.

And suddenly life became way more interesting than I needed.

The initial appearance of a genie to any new friend usually ends up as ‘poof, here I am’. Some djinn like a little more pizzazz. This bastard’s full pyrotechnic display shot me halfway across the room. Only quick thinking, and energy I couldn’t afford to waste, stopped me from destroying a couple million dollars worth of masterpieces.

“Sunuvabitch,” I shouted as the smoke coalesced into a human shape. Before I knew it, I found myself staring at a stand-in for Omar Sharif—Lawrence of Arabia style.

“You are not my Master,” he said without looking at me.

“Damn straight I’m not.” The whole Master/genie transaction requires more personal contact than my standard latex gloves allowed. Unless one of them had been pierced somehow—say by tiny shards of glass from a broken display. “Shit.”


And it just gets more fun from there for Jo.  I really hope to be able to someday have this whole thing available for people to read.  Keep your fingers crossed.  (Lord knows, I do - which makes it really hard to type.  :wink:)

3 comments:

Silver James said...

I love this book. Still. And the second one! Still waiting for the third, and yes, all them will see the light of day sooner than later!

B.E. Sanderson said...

Thanks, Silver! Your support keeps me chugging along. The third one is even more first drafty than the second, but someday I'll edit it and then you can read it. You know, after I finish this and that and the other thing and then do Nano. How does 2015 work for you? ;o)

Aisyah Putri Setiawan said...

Banned complain !! Complaining only causes life and mind become more severe. Enjoy the rhythm of the problems faced. No matter ga life, not a problem not learn, so enjoy it :)

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