If you are a writer or an aspiring writer, then you already know this. But some readers are unaware that traditional publishers and most literary agents prefer that writers adhere to certain generally accepted word counts in their manuscripts. Both agents and editors have been known to reject manuscripts sight unseen simply because the word counts were noticeably shorter or longer than what is considered the norm.
For single-title romance novels, the preferred word-count range when I signed my first contract was 90,000–100,000 words. I believe that remains the standard today. But I’ve always had trouble sticking to that. So much so that the only Immortal Guardians novels I’ve written that did conform to it were Darkness Dawns, Broken Dawn, and Cliff’s Descent. Darkness Dawns was 99,500 words. I barely squeaked in under the mark with it. Broken Dawn and Cliff’s Descent were both 90,000 words. Awaken the Darkness was supposed to be a novella (10,000–40,000 words) and ended up being 82,000 words. LOL.
Aside from Darkness Dawns, all of my traditionally published novels fell into the range of 107,000–113,000 words. But the first drafts exceeded that, so I removed some scenes to bring the word count down. Quite a few actually. And those are the scenes I’ve chosen to share with you, along with a few from my indie novels. Note that I didn’t cut these scenes because I didn’t care for them or thought you, the reader, wouldn’t enjoy them. I cut them solely to reduce the word count and—in a few instances—to improve the pacing.
For the aspiring writers out there who are agonizing over having to do the same, I hope this will help.
Without further ado, here are some Immortal Guardians deleted scenes.
In the original manuscript, this was the next-to-last scene in the book.
As still as a statue, Bastien sat in an armchair in his subterranean bedroom at Seth’s castle and stared at nothing.
Bitterness mingled with hunger and made his stomach burn.
On the table beside him, a tray laden with food and a bag of blood went untouched. Though David’s admonitions to eat and transfuse himself still rang in his ears, Bastien disregarded them.
He had infused himself only once since Seth brought him here: the day of his arrival. He hadn’t trusted them not to attack him and had wanted to swiftly heal his wounds and rebuild his strength. It had been his first and only infusion of bagged blood, which hadn’t been as bad as he’d always assumed it would be. Bagged blood versus fresh blood was a bit like chocolate milk versus hot chocolate. Same basic taste—not that he drank it—just a different temperature. The cold creeping through his veins had felt odd, but his ability to control his body temperature had easily countered that.
Unfortunately, blood and food weren’t the only things Seth had provided. He had also conveyed information. Bastien had wanted to ignore it—just as he had the meals Seth, David, or Darnell delivered—but couldn’t once his damned gift told him it was all true.
Seth showed him the police reports first, then followed those up with visual memories of the crimes detailed in those reports. Memories Seth had taken from men Bastien had considered friends. Men Bastien had sheltered, protected, and tried to help.
When he had begun building his army, Bastien had only recruited vampires his gift told him were sane. Then he had altered the vamps’ diets and habits in an attempt to save them from the madness.
It had seemed to work. He hadn’t touched each of them on a daily basis, but he had done so often enough—or so he’d thought—to ensure they had not succumbed. He had believed his gift would reveal the emotional upheaval that would indicate they were slipping.
Like Blaise so many years ago, however, they had hid it well, not returning to the farmhouse they called Bastien’s lair after a kill until they were calm.
Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands.
There had been so many murders. Men, women, and children, all of whom had died screaming and filled with terror at least in part because Bastien had given their killers safe harbor.
Everyone had lied to him.
Well, almost everyone. Tanner, Cliff, Joe, and Vincent had remained loyal.
He almost laughed.
Four people in two centuries. What a joke. He understood now why Roland Warbrook was such a recluse.
“It isn’t poisoned.” The voice carried to him from the doorway, the words spoken so softly and tentatively he wouldn’t have heard it had he been mortal.
Raising his head, he beheld the petite woman he had nearly cleaved in twain the day he had arrived.
Seth, David, and Darnell alternately called her sweetheart, Amiriska, and Ami.
Bastien stared at her, somewhat amazed that he hadn’t heard her approach. She must be as quiet as a cat.
Or had his bitter thoughts and self-recriminations simply drowned out her footsteps?
Tonight she wore her preferred mode of dress: pajama bottoms and a T-shirt. Her small feet boasted thick, fuzzy socks he had heard Darnell entreating her to wear earlier to keep them warm.
Bastien didn’t know who she was exactly but gathered she was another stray Seth had recently taken in. One who had been starved and badly mistreated both his eyes and his eavesdropping had informed him.
“You shouldn’t be down here, princess,” he warned her wearily.
She looked better, well rested, and had gained a few pounds since he’d been incarcerated here. She had been heartbreakingly emaciated the first time he’d seen her and was still too thin. But her shoulders and arms looked a little less bony now. And her short red hair was clean, if unevenly cropped.
“What makes you think I’m a princess?” she asked softly.
Her stealth wasn’t the only thing about her that reminded him of a cat. There was also something very soothing about her presence, as if she could lower a man’s blood pressure simply by being in the same room with him.
“Everyone around here treats you like one.” He said it without rancor and tried but failed to find a smile. “You’d better be on your way before King Badass finds you with me and skins me alive.”
Instead of leaving, she took a few hesitant steps into the room, trailing her hand along the wall. “I heard them talking. They’re worried about you and say you’re not eating.”
He snorted. “Let them worry.”
She motioned to the tray. “The food isn’t poisoned.”
He remained silent. She really shouldn’t be here. Seth didn’t want her anywhere near him.
When he didn’t respond, she ventured another step closer. “I thought perhaps that was why you weren’t eating, because you feared they might poison or drug you. It’s what I feared when I first came here.”
So she had been aided against her will as well. “That isn’t why I’m not eating,” he murmured.
“Oh.” She studied him for a long moment, her solemn green gaze unwavering.
“You should go. Darnell is looking for you.” He could hear the mortal wandering from room to room upstairs.
Nodding, she returned to the doorway, then paused and looked back at him. “I’m glad Seth saved me. I wasn’t at first. I feared he and David might be like the others. But now…” She tilted her head to one side. “Aren’t you glad that Seth saved you?”