Creating an outline for your new novel: New mom edition- Guest Blog with E.C. Hinrichs

Find a 30% off hard cover journal, get fancy new pen and now all you need is inspiration. I sit at my desk and await inspiration to flow through my fingers. I open the journal with your pen poised. You will then hear a strange silence followed by an unsettling gargle combined with fussing. Run to baby. Baby is fine I can go back to writing. The baby expels a foul noise and smell. I now know what the problem is. I check his diaper and there is nothing there. I put the baby back beside me and start jotting down chapter one outline. I hear a wet noise combined with giggles. I look down, and see a dark mess leaking out of the diaper on to the floor. 

I draw a bath. I run through different scenarios I want to put into the first five chapters. I get soaked while trying to bath the baby. We finish the bath, and both get changed. He starts crying again. He must be hungry. That’s ok, I’ll feed him and then put him to bed for a nap. That’ll work! I can get him down for a nap and then work. I get the bottle ready followed by swaddling him up tight. The baby downs the bottle in record time. His rose bud mouth gapes slightly open with a line of drool flowing. I creep out of the room, sit down at a table and start on my first three lines before a scream causes me to jump leaving a long scribble across the page. 

My peace has lasted a whole fifteen minutes. I go to the room and soothe him back with sleep with another bottle. I hum a few songs. He drifts off to the sound of my snores. I wake up to the sound of my partner coming through the door. 

At last! Relief! Surely, He can keep an eye on the baby. I greet him with a huge hug and a giggly baby. I’m ready to hand the baby to him for papa time and he says, “Ooo! Sorry! I’ve gotta take a dump.” My bangs flop in front of my face. I put the baby in the rocker and start on dinner. It’s done by the time my partner is finished. 

I ask over dinner if I could write for a bit while he watches the wee one. He agrees and sets him down for some tummy time. My mommy senses start tingling. I hear a cry, not a pain cry no- a fussy cry. I peek my head in and he’s on his phone distracted. I look desperately at my partner. I send telepathic messages to tell him to pick up the baby. Those cries are ignored. MY telepathy is ignored. Instead, I cough loudly. He looks up at me and blows a kiss. He says that he thinks the wee one might be tired and hungry. 

No worries I can put the baby to bed and then work on my writing! After all I can even do it in bed. I go to prepare a bottle while papa finishes up tummy time. He passes the wee one to me and I hold him in my arms. I gaze down on his little face and smile. Look at this little guy, curly brown hair, button nose and chubby cheeks! He’s so cute! I give him a little squeeze and thank my lucky stars that I have been blessed with this bundle of joy. I give him his bottle. His coos are music to my soul between his greedy om nom noises. I crawl into my bed and burp him. I flip open my journal as he snoozes on my chest. My pen is steady.

I write the first line: Trinity Smith is in an exorcist anonymous grou…..

I awake hours later with the baby in the bassinet, my journal tucked under my arm, under the covers, under my partner’s arm. 

I guess there is always tomorrow… right?

There Will Be Blood

Trinity Smith 

Book One

E.C Hinrichs

Genre: Supernatural thriller, paranormal romance

Publisher: Beyond the Fray publishing 

Date of Publication: June 2021

ISBN 13: 9781954528079

Number of pages: 258

Word Count: 72,602

Cover Artist:  L. Douglas Hogan 

Tagline: A riveting and seductive novel…

Book Description:  

Evil threatens the world, but a secret organization stands united to stop it. 

Trinity Smith, a sentinel agent for H.A.L.O, protects the world from energy vampires. 

She may have met her match in her next target, Frank Tennorman, a self-described reverend with a high body count. Distracted by juggling her work and personal life, Trinity must take Frank down before she becomes caught in his crosshairs. 

The only thing certain in Trinity’s future is there will be blood.

Amazon

Excerpt:

I looked down at my Batman vintage watch that was always 3 minutes behind and
noticed that the middle man was late- again. His name was Phipps. No one knew where he came from or why he chose to watch over people or deliver these “S.O.S messages” to people like me. Despite what I had said to Damon, I knew I couldn’t quit. Well, quit that easily. Maybe start slowly- I requested that my next assignment be kept quiet and make everyone think that I had quit. Would that even work? No, maybe not. All I wanted to do was find my journal and write it out but I hadn’t been able to find the darn thing for a few days. I tried to forget about it and turned my attention to the agent I was going to see. He could keep my quitting a secret, right?

And who was the most quiet in all of our underground society? Phipps. No last name that I know of. They said he was a seer. They said that his superpower was to see issues a head of time and to bring the news to the chosen. I always hated being called that, almost as if we are permanently marked away from society. Good bye normal life. I flicked my cigarette as if to spite that cosmos that cursed me with this bloodied affliction.

“Curses… why do you always refer to everything as curses?” Phipps appeared behind me and startled my calm and cool façade. He crossed his long tan arms theatrically as the wind bustled through his silver hair. “It must be the Hungarian blood in you.” I glanced back at him gathering the last reminisces of my calm and cool and gazed into the clear blue of his eyes.

“Of course a German would say that,” I scoffed while I turned fully to face him. “And for God sakes.” I shouted. “Would you make some noise? Or at the very least put a fucking bell around your neck.” He sported a smirk that proved to him that yes- he had indeed gotten under my skin. A thing I knew he had to relish. “So, what’s the story, morning glory?”

“His name is Frank Tennorman. He is 41 years old and he is a sucker.” Phipps started to pace around me; another theatrical trait he indulged himself in. “He moves in younger circles, and singles out the most impressionable. Then he enchants them into believing in him and his “healing” ability. After which he starts to feed off of their energy until they are of no more use to him. Then he discards them when there is nothing left to take. He prefers to feed on the addicted, the mentally unstable and children. Think of it, as his own personal all you can eat buffet.”

“Is he aware that he is doing it?”

“That is questionable, but given his age and the number of offenses it is highly likely.”

“Number of offenses? So, this is defiantly not his first time.”

“Yes,” he said with a thoughtful pause. “He has… a history.”

“So, why didn’t you send one of us before?” His smirk dropped and the icy seriousness of the situation draped his eyes making his face look like the mask of death. Something told me that here was something different about this assignment. Something dangerous- why else send the one with the savior complex?

“We did, and they couldn’t handle it.” I looked up into his face with questioning gaze.

“If they couldn’t handle it why not sic a Reaper on him and end the problem altogether?”

I saw him shift uncomfortably.

“It’s not that simple,” his eyebrows gathered together. “We can’t just sic a Reaper on him. If we do that the Reaper turns into a Sucker and then we have a Reaper-Sucker on our hands.” I hated it when he made sense. He sensed my caving, “And would you want an assassin who can suck life out of people on the loose?”

“No, I guess not.” I chewed on the thoughts that were spinning through my head.Why would you not dispose of someone so dangerous? Why not find some ‘natural’ accident for them to get into? Reapers are the psychic assassins of H.A.L.O. I have only seen them have to kill 7 times and in their rose-scented attack, they were their scariest. I could never figure out why the smell of roses accompanied a Reaper’s attack but it did. Lord knows Reapers aren’t very dependable but the Impressers are. They could make him get into a habit that could kill him. “Okay, why couldn’t you get an Impresser to take care of him?”

“Your assignment isn’t changing.” He said with a forceful glare. “Your assignment
remains the same: infiltrate, watch and end the Sucker’s damage.” He said with a gilded eye roll.

“End it? End it so he can try to torture people in a physical sense? C’mon Phipps.” He shook his head and I could tell he didn’t feel like talking about this anymore.

“Do you still take pictures and write?” He said attempting not to answer.

“Okay, now I’m scared… what are you intending on doing with me?” His eyes sparkled
with a good humored delight.

About the Author:

E.C Hinrichs born in Canada and moved to the United States. She spent most of her college career writing and studying literature. After her college, she spent her time working in different careers before settling into human services. She has spent the last seven years working with children, the elderly, and persons with disabilities.

E.C Hinrichs spends her free time reading Tudor history, paranormal nonfiction and fiction.
 
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