Please Sir, May I Have Another?

“Hey, Rob, I really liked your book.  When is the sequel going to release?”

Send me an angel,
Send me an angel, right now!

Sequel?  What sequel?

Everything was resolved in the book, right?  The hero saved the day, got the girl and the villain was banished back to the nether-regions of Hell.  What else is there to say?

Oh, right.  Immortal, gun-toting, half-angel hitman/woman for the Throne.  They don’t just go away, do they?  And no one gets out of this life alive.

Except me.  So far, so good!

This angelpunk genre isn’t going to grow itself, so a sequel of what happens next to Del, Marrin and the rest is certainly in order.  Except I’m incredibly short-sighted.  First, I didn’t think anyone would publish the book (thank you WildChild Publishing).  After publishing, I didn’t think anyone would read the book—except those obligated as family or friends.  It stands to reason that six months after releasing Tears of Heaven, and marketing the literal and metaphoric hell out of it, I also wouldn’t have thought anyone would want a sequel.

Or did I?

If you've already bought my book
They make excellent Fourth of July gifts

Muahahahahaha!

No, no.  You were right the first time.  I had no thoughts toward a second book.  I was all about other projects, including samurai, short stories, an extravagant fantasy epic . . . until about two weeks ago.  As I detailed out earlier this week, I managed to figure out a rough plot for the next Del book (gotta come up with a series name)—Hell Becomes Her.  I don’t want to give away anything at this point, but your favorite, angry, angsty, sarcastic, three-gun wielding half-angel will be back with a fury.

A great deal of fury.

Yes, there will be swords

I can promise at least as much fury as you can think of.  Even if you can think of quite a bit of fury, I assure you, Del will be bringing more. (No refunds, credits or exchanges.  The management is not responsible for lost of stolen fury.)

But, and here’s the thing, with only really a few days into the writing process (due to my body’s need to recover from that nasty virus I had), I’m only a few thousand words into what will be at least a 70,000 word novel.  Then there’s the submissions, the revisions, the sobbing myself to sleep at night due to the stress.

All that takes time.  So time is all we need.