Glowing Halo
pussinboots's picture

About the author
pussinboots
Novel: The Clockwork Pyramid
Genre: Fantasy
33,072 words so far  

About pussinboots

Location: Bellingham WA, USA

Home Region:
USA :: Washington :: Bellingham

Website: http://plunderpuss.net

Favorite novels: Lies of Locke Lamora, Maia, The Lighthouse Duet, The Princess Bride, The Rise of Renegade X

Favorite writers: Carol Berg, Tad Williams, C.S. Friedman, George R. R. Martin, Neil Gaiman, Scott Lynch, Lois McMaster Bujold, Jesse Hajicek

Favorite music: trite mid-90's alternative rock

Non-noveling interests: pirates, folklore, indie comics, drawing, old west, ancient egypt

Joined: October 7, 2003

This Year: Official Participant

NaNoWriMo History:
'03 '04 '05 '06 '07
'08

NaNoWriMo posts: 24

NaNoWriMo buddies: 10

 

Brief Author Bio:

One of God's little practical jokes.

Synopsis: The Clockwork Pyramid

SHORT VERSION:

A wig-maker, a vampire, a weredog, a tomb raider, and a surprisingly sexy mummy set out to solve a mystery and become pawns in a war between the ancient Egyptian gods.

LONGER VERSION:

Ketra is an apprentice at an upscale wig shop at the height of the Industrial Revolution in Memphis, Egypt. She's not particularly good at her job, but it's a fair position, better than working in one of the smoggy factories on the banks of the Nile where homeless spirits roam alongside more ordinary cutthroats and beggars. She doesn't have a family, but she has friends and quiet visits from a minor god who doesn't have much to do now that humanity has technology that's better than magic.

When a notorious crime lord (who may or may not be having a death feud with the sun god) walks into her shop and orders a special hairpiece, Ketra doesn't like him, and she hates him even more when his order gets her into trouble. Her god friend explains that Fate, which is supposed to be sealed until the end of time, has been stolen from the gods by some mysterious person or persons. There shouldn't be steam engines for another two thousand years, for one thing, and for another, someone attacked the Underworld, and for the worst? That hairpiece Ketra is making is going to get her fired whether she does a skillful job or not. Fired, and probably executed.

Time to 1. tell off a crime lord without getting her knees broken, 2. break into a tomb to put the hair back on the mummified corpse (who may or may not be walking around), and 3. stop this from just happening again tomorrow. Ketra and her god are going hunting for a traitor who murdered history-that-should-have-been.

Excerpt: The Clockwork Pyramid

Prince Meryamunra felt self-conscious in front of the god who steered the boat.

He lay on his back, his head propped up on the Amulet of the Pillow. The ornate hematite cradle would have been cool against his neck if he hadn't been swathed in linen bandages. It wasn't the only changed sensation since waking—his limbs felt heavy, weighed down with embalming fluid, but his torso, freed of organs, felt hollow and sticky. If Meryamunra wriggled a little, which he couldn't help now and then, he felt his ribs scrape along the inside of the withering flesh.

Over his wrapped toes, which pointed up at the starless night, the god Anpu gripped the spoked wheel with long, slender black fingers. Not the deep earthen brown that Meryamunra's skin had been, not even the blue-black gloss of the traders from the south, but a quiet darkness that swallowed light and thoughts and fears, darker even than the sky above or the waters of the Afternile where they stretched away into nothingness.

“You may sit up, if you can,” Anpu said. He glanced over his shoulder, his jackal's head as dark as his muscular back, but covered in velvet fur that called to Meryamunra's fingers.

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