Several nights ago, when the moon was high and I was sleepy, I laid in bed, and like Martin Luther King, I had a dream, but unlike Martin Luther King, I will not revolutionize the world, and in fact I’m pretty sure I’ll regret this opening sentence entirely.

I don’t have dreams all that often, or maybe I am and they’re just so boring that I forget them the moment my eyes open. This one was fairly unique in that it burned a single image into my mind — and from that image came an entire story. Well, the skeleton of one, anyway.

The image spoke of a lot: a dark romance, a bloody past, and an even more bloody quest for vengeance. In that, a story was waiting to be born. I sat down and started typing a general outline as it came to me, and in the end I had sketched out an entire novel.

So, here we go: can I juggle two novels at once?

(the answer is ‘yes’)