I started working on a novel before the fire. I'd actually had a BUNCH of novels that were either finished or nearly there. Unfortunately, I am a secretive person and don't like sharing my stuff until I absolutely have to and my oh-so-carefully kept backups were all in the house.
But! All was not lost. I'd happened to email the first two chapters of a novel to my boyfriend because I wanted his opinion on whether or not it was too weird. And so I had at least the start of something left over from before the fire.
Well, usually I write a hell of a lot faster than this but, you know, homeless, trauma, etc. It was hard to get into the right mood.
Finally, I'm writing again. I remember why I sent this to my boyfriend and worried about it being too strange, though. I mean, interracial is hot, right? People like that. Except my two races are Hittite and Egyptian. And I think the Hittite might have PTSD. And this all takes place during the reign of Ramesses II against a backdrop of decapitations and prisoners of war.
Oh yeah. And it looks like the relationship might be a BDSM one.
Sometimes I catch a brief glimpse of exactly why I'm so poor. Luckily the lucidity doesn't last very long.