And I’ve already realized that, dang, the hero should really interview the cleaning staff and the last people to use the room that the murder was in. Like, duh, this is a murder mystery, right? Makes you wonder what I was thinking. On the bright side, that will allow me to establish some stuff for later on while getting my wordcount up as a bonus. Frozen Dreams is a bit sparse in that regard.
Snippet
The whole place was set up as what the court primly calls a ‘conference room,’ Sultan’s Seraglio edition: New Californian nobles have a real problem remembering where their own beds are, and sometimes in a crisis they don’t have time to remember. A look at the walls confirmed that none of the ah, devices on the walls were sharp, and the only things that could be removed were a set of flimsy-looking handcuffs. Excuse me: ‘manacles.’ I privately resolved not to actually touch anything.
Handcuffs? Manacles? Oh! Binders! Gotcha.
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And yeah, your word count is light, by today’s standards (thank you very much Mr. Weber) but I’m sure it’s something you can work out by including a novella side-story or three.
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Mew