a short excerpt from GHOST IN THE RAZOR

Since it’s Christmas, let’s have one more excerpt from GHOST IN THE RAZOR:

“No,” said Markaine. He had a thick Caerish accent. Caeria Ulterior, from the sounds of it, highlighting his words with a burr.

“I’m sorry?” said Caina.

“Whatever you are about to ask me,” said Markaine, not looking up from his notebook, “the answer is no. I have no interest in creating a painting, a mural, a fresco, or any other artwork for you or your employer. No sum of money shall change my mind.”

“I’m not here for a commission,” said Caina.

“Of course you’re not,” said Markaine. “I’m sure instead you’re here to socialize. The civil war in the Empire might affect trade. Or it might not. Hmm, let’s all stroke our beards and nod and pretend like we can see the future.” His free hand fluttered at her. “Off you go.”

Suddenly Markaine’s relative poverty made a great deal more sense.

Caina nodded, climbed over the stone seat, and stepped into the row behind Markaine. She made sure to stand so her shadow fell upon Markaine’s notebook, blocking his light. The painter looked up, blinking, and scowled at her.

“Really,” he said. “That’s very petty.”

-JM