I am working hard to keep The Seventh Kill publication process ambling along. Mid-winter has settled here in South Africa, and with it, the kind of quiet focus that should be perfect for deep work. Deep work however gets interrupted when you have to deal with a tree with a mass of dead branches. A process which nearly took my eye out yesterday, so today I chose writing as a safer option.
I’ve been immersed in the revision of The Seventh Kill, carefully sharpening the story’s edges, deepening its core, and tightening its threads. It’s a different kind of writing—less about discovery and more about refinement, about knowing the story well enough now to make it sing.
One of the major changes I’m making is the removal of extraneous scenes. When I completed the first draft, it felt too short. My early solution was to expand the world through side characters and subplots—to widen the lens. While that added breadth, I’ve since realized that what the story truly needed was depth, not width. Rather than looking outward, I’m now looking inward—into the tension, the characters, the emotional truth of the mystery at the heart of it all.
Two minor side plots I’ve removed include the inner workings of the morgue and city coroner, and a subplot involving an inquisitive journalist. The scene below combines both of those elements, and although I’m fond of it, it ultimately had to go.
A Confidence (A Cut Scene)
Constable Krege hesitated at the morgue door. He glanced over his shoulder at Hubert Pestle, who loomed with predatory eagerness.
Inside, the air was cool and sterile, tinged with the faint smell of chemicals. The morgue’s tiled walls swallowed the muffled sounds of the street outside, leaving only the unsettling quiet of the dead within.
Doctor Ephod appeared from the basement stairs. His manner shifted the moment he saw the pair.
‘Krege,’ Ephod greeted, wiping his hands on a cloth. ‘I hope this is official business.’ His sharp eyes shifted to Pestle, who flipped his notebook open with a flick of his wrist.
‘Doctor Ephod, a pleasure. I’m Hubert Pestle, from The Vancera Chronicle. I’m here for a little information on the murder. You know, just doing my civic duty, keeping the public informed.’
Ephod’s hand stilled on the cloth, and he met Pestle with a frosty calm. ‘I see. And what exactly is it you hope to find, Mister Pestle?’
‘Oh, I’m just trying to get ahead of the official statements,’ Pestle said smoothly, edging closer. ‘The people are restless, Doctor. One mysterious murder in The Burghal? That’s bound to raise questions, and I’m here to answer them. Who was the victim? Can we expect more bodies turning up? Any unusual circumstances you’d care to share?’
Krege shifted. This wasn’t how things were to go. He was trying to get Pestle off his back about a few past favors, but it was clear now he’d made a mistake.
‘Mister Pestle,’ Ephod’s voice was steely, his posture rigid. ‘The victim’s identity and details of the case are confidential. This is a sensitive matter, and anything you’re fishing for will come through official channels. You are in a morgue, not a gossip mill.’
‘Surely you can give me something. A detail? A name, perhaps? We’re talking about public safety here. You and I both know people are terrified. They want answers, and I’d hate for them to think the authorities are hiding something.’
Doctor Ephod’s hands clenched the cloth, his jaw tightening. ‘You have no right to invade the dignity of the dead. Constable, please escort Mister Pestle out.
Krege winced. ‘Pestle,’ Krege said, stepping closer and placing a hand on the reporter’s arm. ‘I think it’s time we go.’
Pestle shrugged him off. ‘Come on, Doctor. Surely there’s something about this case, isn’t there? Unusual wounds? Strange circumstances? There’s something off, isn’t there?’
Ephod’s restraint frayed. ‘You are overstepping, Mister Pestle.’
‘It’s a simple question, Doctor. Why won’t you—’
Krege yanked Pestle back by the arm, pulling him toward the door. ‘We’re leaving, now!’
Pestle protested, twisting in Krege’s grip. ‘Hey, I’m not done.’
‘Oh, you’re done,’ Krege snapped, his patience gone. He dragged Pestle through the doorway. He had let this get out of hand, and now Ephod was furious with him too. The last thing he needed was a coroner breathing down his neck.
The morgue door slammed shut behind them, and Pestle wrenched his arm free, glaring at Krege. ‘What the hell, Krege? I had him right where I wanted.’
‘You’ve done enough. Don’t make me regret bringing you here.’
What to Expect from the Novel
The Seventh Kill is a thrilling fantasy mystery set in a Prague-inspired city where folkloric wards protect against threats old and new. As a criminal conspiracy unravels and siege-like tension mounts, the story weaves atmosphere, danger, and justice into a tight, character-driven narrative. Expect mystery, city intrigue, and ensemble storytelling in a setting rich with tradition, secrets, and action suspense.
Looking Ahead to The Seventh Kill Publication
Revising a novel often means making hard choices—trimming scenes you like in service of the story you love. This scene, though cut, help me understand how the story world works and these changes make The Seventh Kill publication ready. I hope you enjoy this behind-the-scenes look.
The Seventh Kill publication is set for August 2025 and the novel will be available for pre-order and Advance Reader Copies in the same month. If you’re a newsletter subscriber, you’ll be the first to receive updates, bonus material, and early access.
Thank you for following this journey. I can’t wait to share the finished story with you.