Excerpt: Girl Nevermore

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Girl Nevermore is my dark contemporary young adult novel based on real life events. When I was much younger, my best friend at the time tried to take her own life while sitting next to me in class. She went to the bathroom with the pass that hung by the door, was gone for a while, and came back a completely different person.

She slowly started fading away as she sat next to me.

The image of her eyes haunted me for almost a decade, and I still remember the look she gave me to this day, but I've grown up a lot since then. While the helplessness I felt in that moment used to cause me anxiety, I've realized I'm much stronger now and much more sympathetic because of it.

Thankfully, my friend is still alive, but some people do not get second chances like she did. I've lost a lot of people - a lot of good people - along the way, and I cannot imagine how it would have been to lose her in that moment.

Girl Nevermore's story grew from that single moment, and the thoughts and feelings that I had after. I never truly grasped how much it affected me until later on in life. But events like that change you.

If you are in the mood for a dark story, Cooper's journey is full of life lessons, things that took me a lot longer than her to realize. Today, I am sharing a small piece of Girl Nevermore with you. Cooper finds the journal that her twin sister, Kayla, had been keeping. Over the course of the book, she reads her sister's writing. Kayla never seemed so alive, and then ... Well, I'll let you read to find out the rest. Enjoy the excerpt from Kayla's found journal below:

We pulled into the park, stealing drinks from the flask he keeps in his glove compartment. We leaned against the side of his car, passing it back and forth, him taking bigger gulps than me.

When the sprinklers came on, I was already a little light-headed, feeling freer than I had in a long time. I kicked off my shoes and ran into the grass barefoot, laughing as water soaked through my jeans, my shirt, everything. The grass squelched between my toes, and I watched him watching me. His dark eyes never left my body.

It felt blissful, perfect.

Trent and I don’t talk much. There’s not much to say. We just are. We’re two different people who are from separate parts of the universe. But when we collide, our worlds smash together with such fire I can barely breathe. I want to take the feeling he gives me and bottle it up, keep it for whenever I need it.

This kind of perfection never lasts a lifetime. I’m not stupid. But that’s why I’m soaking it all in. I take every chance I can get with him to make up for all the insignificant moments that will happen later. Because as long as I live, I will never meet anyone who makes me feel as alive as Trent does now.

I spun around in the middle of the field until the stars collapsed in on themselves, blending together into one blurring ball of light. I wanted to kiss that sky, get sucked up into it and dance forever.

When I stopped, the world kept moving around me. Trent marched right through the sprinklers, dropped the flask in the field, and wrapped his arms around me. He kissed me with such an intensity I thought I would melt right into his skin.

That’s how he makes me feel, like I could become something bigger than myself. I’ve never felt that kind of power before. I grinned the whole way home, wondering how I got so lucky, but also wondering how I was going to keep this a secret.

Because I want Trent to be mine and just mine. I don’t want to share any of these moments with anyone else. They are too beautiful, too enormous. And I’m afraid if I tell someone, they might become a little bit smaller, and that would ruin the magic we have now.

New Goals and BONUS: Hipstopia 2 Excerpt!

I did it again - went overboard with the goal creation.  But hey, if I aim high and only accomplish half of what I set out to do, then at least I accomplished half of an insanely long goal list, right? Right.

So, I'm aiming for two self-published releases next year.  Hipstopia 2 is a definite (and no, it won't be called Hipstopia 2 once I can come up with a better title).  The Unanswerable I would really like to get out in October - because horror books in October?  Yes, please!

I want to edit everything I currently have on my plate next year.  This means editing five works - on top of trying to grow my own proofreading business. But I need to get this stuff edited - otherwise, it's never going to see the light of day (and that would make me sad).

I also want to write The Underground (Unseries #2) and Rioss Origins (Rioss #0.5).

Basically, this is a Holiday Wish List to my future self.  Please self, do all the things!

For those of you who read this whole blog post, I have a surprise for you!  It's an excerpt from Hipstopia 2.  This is from Murphy himself, folks.  He and Jay will be sharing the spotlight in this duel narrative novel. 

Murphy

Before all of this had started, there had been a lightness to her intense, brown eyes. The air of nonchalance even came across in the way she stepped, sure-footed and buoyant. I never saw that anymore, the lightness had been destroyed by something feral, something sinister... something that I had created.

I stared at the glass of whiskey she placed on my desk. Her fingernails were chipped, skin cracking in pink, raw hangnails. She pushed the glass towards me. The golden liquid sloshed around the cold stones Sky had tossed in.

"Why did you let him go?" She asked again. It was the hundredth time, and every time her dark red lips formed the words, I wanted to shudder. There was such contempt and disdain behind the way she spoke.

Looking up, I met her eyes. Fearless and fierce, none of that girl who thought she could change the world. This was because of me, because of what I had made us do... because of all the destruction we made together. "Because I couldn't stand killing him."

She rolled her eyes and knelt down next to me, making our eyes level.  Her breath reeked of yesterday's wine, and her eyeliner was smeared along the edges of her eyes. The white and black striped suit coat, her uniform, was too sophisticated for this moment. I reached out and nudged one of the edges down off her shoulder, revealing white skin in desperate need of sun. The white v-neck underneath was better made for her, simple and pure. At least, the her that used to exist.

"You're in charge now, Murphy." Her words circled around my head, but I couldn't listen. "You have to make the tough decisions, even if it means killing someone you love."

Sky placed a single finger on my knee, tapping once, twice, three times before she stood up. My hand fell away from her shoulder. Sky adjusted her jacket and ran her fingers through her cropped, black hair. I remember when it used to be long. Before everything. "Even if it means killing me."

Kingdom of Obsession

I haven't posted excerpts in awhile - heck, I haven't posted much of anything.

Camp NaNoWriMo kept me busy last month, and this month?  Well, I really have no excuse other than:  DOTA 2.  And more DOTA 2.  We also got an adorable new kitten named GERTY (and two points goes to the first person who can tell me where we got that name from).  That makes five cats.

It was never our intention to adopt him, but him and Munster (our 2 year old) get along so well, we eventually had to cave.  Oh, that and he's flipping adorable.

But it is time that I post an excerpt.  Nina Pelletier does weekly writing prompts (sometimes more than once a week).  I always try to use them to create new, better excerpts for my novels.  This is one for Kingdom of Obsession.  It's a first line prompt that begins with the first line from Fifty Shades of Grey.  Which, I still haven't read yet - has anyone else?  I'd love to know some fellow writers/readers opinions on it!

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I scowl with frustration at myself in the mirror. Nine years. I blinked slowly. My hair was the same, a little more wily and unkempt than usually, but that was attributed to nine years in bed. My eyes were the same, the same aging crow’s feet that just started to pucker when I forced a smile onto my lips. My lips were less pale than before, probably because I hadn’t used as much makeup. I twisted them to the side, almost expecting the reflection to move in the opposite direction.

I had tumbled through a rabbit hole.

This didn’t happen in real life.

My knuckles turned white with the pressure I applied to the corners of the sink. Except it did. I’m living proof. I closed my eyes. I’d wake up in a second. I’d wake up and my mother would be dead again, my husband would be wrapped clumsily in the comforter besides me, and my son will be in the other room. I’ll wake up in California, sun shining through the lush trees of our house.

I opened my eyes. My reflection gazed back at me, green eyes locked on mine. The corner of my right eye twitched.

My mouth opened, and I started laughing. The guttural sound pounded through my throat, escaping my mouth in hysterical heaves. Someone’s knuckles brushed against the door. The laughter bounced off the walls, reverberating my core, filling me with utter hatred for the rest of the world.

My spine tingled, my whole brain swelled in my head and I almost lost control of my body. My limbs slowly went numb against the realization. Gone. Gone was the life I knew, and all I had left was the bitter prickling that trembled in the back of my neck, separating myself from my body. I wasn’t here, but my reflection told me I was. This was me, here, now.

It was a lie.

My reflection stopped laughed and instead screamed. The noise was so sudden and so fierce that I winced at the sound of my own voice. I found control of my right arm, just long enough to thrust it into the mirror, distorting my face into tiny pieces and reflections.

At least I now resembled how I felt.

These broken pieces, they had to fit back together somehow. They had to still be alive. Nine years couldn’t have been a dream. People don’t dream for nine years. The pounding on the door got louder, nurses and doctors, the lot of them were working to open the lock. I didn’t let them have the pleasure of seeing me like this. I unlocked the door and pushed it outward. Everyone gazed at me, eyes locked on mine as my fingers dripped blood onto the floor.

My dead mother  My mother gasped.

My ex-best friend My best friend swallowed.

The nurse stood ready with another needle.

“I’m getting them back.” I marched across the room and sat at the edge of the bed. The nurse and doctor exchanged a look, very prepared for my insanity, but not for this. I was calm, cool, collected, at least that’s what I told myself. “I don’t care what any of you say, it wasn’t just a dream. Dreams don’t last that long.”

Almost 200 Followers

One follower away from almost 200 has me thinking.  I should probably make a post with my favorite quotes from all of my current works in progress.  Short and sweet, but fun fun fun.

"My Summer Vacation by Terrance Wade" - Short Story, Humor
My dad always told me, "Terrance, if you see your mom trying to get in through that door, you lock it - you understand?"  So when my mom comes in through the window, I'm thankful it's not that door.

Rioss - YA GBLT Urban Fantasy
He opened his mouth to answer me, but before he could get any words out black and red bile spewed from his mouth.

RUHE - YA Contemporary
Delia threw her arms out in an elaborate gesture.  "My messenger name is Delialovesyou.  I know, super cute, right?  Totally.”

Soul Therapy - YA Paranormal Romance
She never really could get used to the underlying sense of desire he exuded. It oozed out, and he always seemed too eager, which is why Jess hadn’t done anything with him. She hadn’t decided if he was worth it.

2042 - Science Fiction

    "Okay, no, really... who put you up to this?  Albert?"  I hollered down the hallway.  Albert poked his head out of the office.  I got up out of my chair and pointed to the machine thing, it was still reaching for me.  "Did you get this guy?  What is it, a new kind of robot-ogram?" Albert walked towards me and stopped as he saw the clunking machine.  The machine's eye refocused on Albert.

    "Albert Stevenson?"

    "Kayla, I think you should..."  Albert stammered out a few words before the robot interrupted him.

    "Albert Stevenson, you should really return those DVDs."  Its voice boomed.  Albert's face whitened.

Good Criminal Heart - YA GBLT
Blood trickled down the back of my head and my knuckles were dropping blood.  My blood, and Nick’s blood, in one beautiful mess that spread throughout the hallway floor.

Kingdom of Obsession - Contemporary
“But nothing, Cat.  You and David split for the same reason in my ‘dream.’”  I rolled by eyes, “And mom only found her cancer because of the accident that never happened… but did happen.  In my...” Other life, second life, dream, memory, “Whatever, it was as if that accident never happened.”

That's all the teasers I have for today.  Rioss is officially in the hands of an editor!  And yes, it is one that I am paying for, but she's crazy amazing, and I'm excited for her feedback.  I have a good feeling about this one, folks!

Z is for Zones

As promised, here’s another excerpt.  It is a continuation of Q is for Quarantine.  These are all part of the new novella The Unanswerable.

Tim McGarth, the news anchor, shuffled through his papers.  “This just in, drop zones have been announced.  I repeat, drop zones have been announced.”  Everyone in the cellar cast brief glances around.  A map came on the screen.

The dead center of Manhattan was blood red.  It got lighter as it drifted out from the center.  The camera switched back to Tim.  He gulped audibly.  He was still in the city, just like us.  Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead.  “Seems as if the only way to contain the virus is to eradicate it.  Everything, folks.”  He loosened his tie.  “I must say, it has been fun, New York.  You gave me the anchor position, and I tell you, if I didn’t have to step on a few toes to get here, it wouldn’t have been the same.”

He ruffled his hand through his hair, messing up the perfect part.  “I think everyone in the studio agrees with me.  It is now time to go and be with your loved ones.  By this time tomorrow, our fabulous city might not have any survivors.  It has been an honor-" he choked on his words, "and a privilege to work with all of you."  The camera zoomed in on his eyes, “I’ll be home soon, honey.”

Tim got up and walked offstage.  A few people that worked in the studio wandered aimlessly around set before a “technical difficulties” message popped up on the screen.

There was an audible groan inside the cellar.  “They can’t do this,” a man stood up.  “They can’t.  We aren’t sick, none of us are sick!”  He slammed his fist against the wall.

Diane held onto our son with both hands.  He tried to wiggle away, but she wouldn’t let him.  “We have to have some faith, Diane.”  I leaned my forehead against her wet cheek.  “I love you.”

I couldn’t keep my own tears from coming to the surface in my eyes.  I had seen too many people try to escape – too many people gunned down by the hazmat suits.  You would think that eminent doom would make someone risk it all, but I couldn’t.  I was too scared that I would lose them – or that they would lose me. 

She pulled me into her arms along with our son.  “I love you too, Matthew.  I always will.”  Her words escaped her mouth with heavy, thick breaths.  This was the beginning of the end.

V is for Virus

This is actually the beginning of The Unanswerables.  The very first scene where Matthew finds out about the virus.

I loosened the tie around my neck when the newscaster was interrupted by that emergency broadcast noise. It immediately said, “This is not a test.” Diane glanced over at me from the kitchen and nodded towards the TV. She continued to cut up broccoli, and I flopped down in front of the television. My son immediately scooted across the floor with his train set in hand and rammed it into my polished shoes. I smiled, reached down, and patted his head. He turned four next week, and he was getting to be very precarious, though he still didn’t talk much.

The television flickered and the newscaster, Tim McGarth, was back on screen. He looked pale, as if during the interruption he had seen death itself. I leaned forward and tossed my tie onto the armrest. Diane hated when I did that, but I didn’t want to miss whatever he had to announce – it looked important.“Folks, I have just received news that there has been a deadly virus…” he paused to swallow. “That has broken out in all major cities across the globe.”

The room spun. I couldn’t have heard that right. The stifling air in my New York apartment was probably getting to my head. I glanced outside. The sun was nearly set over the horizon, casting long shadows from each of the buildings. The city looked fine.

“It is unknown exactly what the virus is, or how it is spreading, but it seems that only the major cities have been infected. As such, New York is now in a state of quarantine. As is Los Angeles –“ I stopped listening. I stared at the screen and watched his mouth move, but all sounds stopped. I looked down at my son, who grinned up at me. His white baby teeth reflected what was left of the natural light.

“Diane?” I said. I took off my polished shoes and tossed them aside on my way to our galley kitchen. She stood over the stove, her blonde hair getting caked across her forehead with the steam from the… whatever she was making. “Diane, I think something’s wrong.”

She narrowed her eyes at me, “Don’t tell me, you put your tie on the couch again and it slid into the seats.” Diane’s face lit up, grinning at the teasing joke.

I frowned. I opened my mouth to explain and a large rumble was heard overhead that shook the whole apartment. The china in our cabinets jingled as it vibrated against each other. Keegan came running in and wrapped his arms around his mother’s legs, almost toppling her over. His blonde hair almost disappeared inside the apron.

“Keegan, what have I told you about-“ Diane began after she steadied herself, but she glanced at my face and stopped. “What’s happening?” She put down the spatula and shut off the stove, picking up Keegan in one scoop. He nuzzled into her neck and mumbled something. “Now, now, it’s okay.”

We walked over to the television, where Tim McGarth was sweating profusely. I couldn’t tell if it was because of the hot lights, or because he was still in shock. I felt that way. “He said there was a virus.” My voice got small at the last word, almost unwilling to admit that it was real.

Q is for Quarantine

Another Excerpt from The Unanswerable.

“You can’t do this to us!”  Diane’s face got red.  The man was wearing a full hazmat suit and made no indication that he had heard her.  The rifle in his arms glared at us.  My son buried his face in the back of his mother’s knees.  I placed a hand on the back of his head.  He looked up at me and put on a smile, but then with the next shove of the crowd, buried his head again.

He was too young to even know that he was going to die here.  That this was the last attempt we were making to get out of the city.

Diane’s nostrils flared.  “I have a son, he’s three!  THREE!  And you are condemning all of us just because a few people are sick?”  Her voice pierced the air, but was drowned out quickly by the screams of all the other people in the crowd.

It wasn’t a few people.  A few people would indicate that it could be contained.  No, it was everyone.  And whatever it was had somehow only managed to manifest itself in the major cities.  Biological warfare, whatever you wanted to call it.  It didn’t matter what it was, or had been, what mattered now was the mass of people that were pushing against the two lines of soldiers.  If anyone got too riled up, a rifle would shoot them down.  So we stayed at the barrier, eyeing the men in the hazmat suits, wishing they would give us more hope than the blank stare.

It was three days ago.  The word quarantine sent the city into a panic.  My wife and I huddled on the couch with our son and flipped to another channel.  His eyes lit up as some Disney show came on the screen. 

“What are we going to do?”

They had already walled up the borders.  There was no way out.  “We wait a day, then go.  Too many people will be headed out tonight.”  As if on signal, screaming and horns sounded from the street below.  Our son was too zoned in on the television to realize what was happening.  It was just another day in New York City to him.

I grabbed Diane’s hand and heaved my son onto my shoulder.  We edged our way through the crowd, away from the hazmats, away from the border, away from hope. 

“What are we going to do?”  She asked me again after we had taken shelter in a basement.  People, women, children all huddled together like scared rats.  The condition for staying in his house:  If you sneezed, you were sent away.  That was the first sign.  Sneezing. 

We hadn’t met any more sick people after the first three days, but the media said it was spreading.  We watched the screen, it cast a dim glow around the room.  It was our only light source, and the only link we had to the outside world and mayhem.  And that’s when we heard the announcement.

Stayed tuned for “Zones” on Z is for Zones for the next installment!

O is for Olives

This is an excerpt from my novel Kingdom of Obsession.  It is unfinished and is still a WIP.  But now that I've gotten a bit more patience with my writing, I might go back and start it again.  This is a memory that Olive is having:

Seven years ago, Eddie, Dennis, and Gloria and I were in Vegas doing a couple’s weekend. We mostly just went because I had never been. I wish I had more memories from that weekend, but you see, Gloria and I were still in our early twenties and got free drinks most everywhere we went. Her and I ditched the boys for a little bit and took a long walk down the strip. When we came back to the hotel later, they looked at us and wanted what we had.

But the one clear, distinct memory I had was when we were in a small club in the heart of downtown. The music was blaring, and we could barely hear each other. But we ordered martini after martini. Eddie and Gloria were happy then, hands all over each other. Such a different picture from today. Anyway, Dennis and I were making fun of them as usual.

But when Dennis got another martini in front of him, I plucked the olive from the bottom of his drink. Not very gracefully, I might add, as some of the martini sloshed out of the glass. “Hey, Olive, stop it!” I sucked the olive down and licked my fingers, arching one of my eyebrows. Dennis wasn’t really upset.

“Olivia’s an Olive now?” Eddie slurred.

“She will be!” Gloria asked.

I held my glass up in a toast, “You are what you eat, after all.”

“Olivia, you can eat anything from the bottom of my drink whenever you want.” I grinned at Dennis, but the grin faded as I saw the look on his face. It was a mixture of pure joy and panic. I couldn’t place that look. Then he knelt down on one knee, “But only if you, Olive, do me the honor of marrying me?” His voice shook as it got caught in his throat.

J is for Jeep

Another Excerpt from The Unanswerable. 

We stretched in the morning summer air. It was sweltering, which was good and bad. While our water bottles were running dangerously low, everything else was in good condition. We had been traveling through ash and rubble for days. Every time we got to a new town, Alisha's eyes lit up. They sank just as quickly when we saw the abandoned houses, pilfered goods, and flattened stores. Every town had been the same thing, destruction. We needed transportation. We needed more water. We needed food.

So when we got into Fulton, I wasn't expecting anything to be different. She scraped the ash off of the road sign. "We might as well know where we are." Alisha dusted to soot off on her jeans, which didn't really help. We were covered. "I really want to find new clothes." She spat into her hand and tried to rub off some of the mess, it only made it bundle up into black chunks on her hand.

"I really want to get out of the north east. The last newscast I heard said that the virus had hit there the worst. That's why they bombed so far out... I guess."

"You're lucky you heard the news one last time." Alisha kicked a stone. It bounced in the ash like it was skipping on water, causing small wind ripples across the street. "I didn't even see any of this coming. I ran outside after the first explosion. The apartment complex across the street was engulfed in flames."

And that's what you get for being completely unaware of your surroundings... kids. We walked in silence until we got to the town. The buildings looked more windswept than destroyed. "Maybe this is the end of it." I walked to the first house. While the ash had smacked into the side, blacking out the windows, the inside looked like it was picked clean.

I kicked the door open, a sharp pain shot up my hip. I still wasn't used to all this physical activity. Living a cushy office job was probably the worst possible career for someone in this world. Other than some cushions left with the couches, there didn't seem to be anything else. Alisha crept in after me and marched around. She disappeared through a doorway and I heard cabinets open and shut.

"Nothing - no food... no anything. Oh! The tap still works!"

I heard the running water, "I don't know if I would-"

"Ew!!!" She came out, her hands blacker than they were before. "Is everything around here destroyed?"

I chuckled as she wiped her hands on the cushions, leaving deep stains on each. Then I saw it. A small metal object that reflected the light. "Hold on, Alisha. What's that?"

She looked down and smiled. Her hand curled around the object and tossed it towards me. The keys jingled in my hand as I caught them.

"Garage." We both said at the same time. We scrambled over the couches and busted the door down to the garage. There it was, the most magnificent thing I've seen in my whole life.

"Why does it have to be open?!" She whined.

I walked around it and kicked the tires. "Still good. I say we take it." I grinned and leaned myself against the jeep. It had no top on it, and the top wasn't anywhere to be seen. But it was a vehicle, a set of wheels, and something that could probably still get a grip on the mess that is outside.

"Ugh." She threw her pack in the back. "We are going to die from ash inhalation."

"Probably," I tossed my pack in and jumped into the driver's seat. I pushed the key into the ignition and cranked it. The engine roared to life. "At least now we can do it in style." I put on my best grin.

"You give a guy a nice car, and he reverts into a five-year-old." Alisha rolled her eyes.

E is for Escape

Here is another excerpt from The Unanswerable:

     "Take my hand!"  I narrowed my eyes as I stared into the darkened shaft.  I knew what she was clinging to, hope that we could somehow get our son out.  That he would somehow be okay if we could just stop and resuscitate him.  We couldn't wait any longer.  We had to get further away from the city.  Maybe the cellars had worked for a few days, but as the rubble started to shatter around us, I knew our situation was beyond desperate.  It was hopeless.

       And she didn't want to try without him.   She reached her right arm up, our fingers barely touched.  She coughed and held his body closer to her legs.  He was nuzzled there, like he always did when he was scared.  But he wasn't scared anymore.  He wasn't anything anymore.

        "Diane, you have to let go."

         Mist invaded her green eyes and she looked back down at our son.  "Matthew, I can't."  A loud creak came from inside the mound of rubble.  It was only a matter of time before the last beams gave in.  We were losing time.

         "Diane, please, I can't do this without you."

         "But we're so close... and he might."

         I grit my teeth, ready to cry, but more desperate to survive.  To get us out of there.  "Please, take my hand."

         She stroked her son's hair and sobbed.  She kissed his head and it seemed like she was finally ready to let go.  But then this girl scrambled her way out of a small opening in the rubble.  Her blonde hair was black with ash, and she gasped at the air.  She glanced from my wife, my son, and me in a second.  She grabbed my outstretched arm, and I hoisted her up.

         "Diane!"  I yelled.  The girl was already scurrying off to safety.

         Diane curled her hands around Keegan's head.  "Okay... I'll come up."  The ground rumbled and shook.  I lost my foothold and had to scramble backwards to avoid being sucked down the shaft.  The wood cracked and splintered.  It all happened so fast.  The small hole out of the cellar was there, and then in a moment's hesitation, everything collapsed.  The hole was gone.

         I screamed her name and buried my fingertips in the shards of glass, broken wood, nails, and ash that covered the whole mess.  "Diane!"  My hands bled and mixed with the soot that covered my fingers.  It was a blackened red mess.  She had to still be down there, she couldn't just be gone.  I was just talking to her.  I screamed and pounded my fists into the earth.

         A hand curled around my shoulder.  It was the girl, tears stained through the soot on her face revealing pasty skin.  Her eyes were the color of the sky before it had grown black with pollution.  Her lip trembled when she opened her mouth.  A high-pitched squeak escaped, and then she formed the words, "We still have to get out of the city."  She sounded so far off.  This girl wasn't real.  Everyone was dead.  My wife and I were the last survivors.  This must have been my mind playing tricks.

         But when she pulled on my arm and nearly yanked it out of socket, I snapped back into reality.  The hiss of a bomb sounded in the distance before it hit the earth.  And our feet pounded on the ground.  Away from the chaos, away from the bombs and destruction, away from my wife.  All my instincts kicked in, and they told me to survive.  I had to keep going.  I had to keep going for her.  If Diane couldn't live for us, I had to live for the both of us.  Something had to go right.

         When the bomb hit, the whole earth shook and flames licked towards the sky.  Debris pierced the air with a choking mushroom cloud.  Another building collapsed and more screams echoed in the night.  We might be the only people making it out alive.

         We scrambled over the road blockade that was upturned.  It was the government's last try to keep us inside.  We thought we would be safer towards the outskirts of the city... but they started bombing here first.  But we had no idea how far they were going to go out.  Everyone outside the city thought they were safe, but judging by the smoking ash that choked the air, no one was safe anymore.

D is for Drinking

I will be posting occasional excerpts from my current manuscripts/WIPs, and today is one of those days.

Marc turned to me, breathing hard, blood dripping down his chin. His eyes were blackened with thick circles around them, and red in the direct center. A growl escaped his throat that made all the hairs on my neck stand on end.

The streetlight poured into the alleyway from above us, making the whole scene glow with an eerie euphoria. Marc looked ready to pounce on me.  He was animalistic. Noted: Never interrupt Marc’s feeding. But it didn’t help that my body reacted in a way where I was ready to pounce too. With all my nerves firing at once, I was ready for anything that he might try.  And part of me thought I could beat him.

Marc let out a short grunt and narrowed his eyes at me. I could see him, beyond the instincts, beyond the vampire that stood before me, he was there. I focused on that. I made my body focus on that so I wouldn’t lunge at him. He loosened his grip on the blonde guy. The guy looked perplexed, not scared, worried, or anything that would naturally float through a victim’s head. He didn’t run either. He stayed pinned against the wall, waiting.

Marc closed his eyes and evened his breathing. Then he whispered into the guy’s ear, “You slipped and fell. It hurt, but you’re fine now. And no, you don’t want to see a doctor.” The words drifted from his mouth with red steam. The hot blood particles mixed with the air. I was glad I already ate because my body almost lost it on the sweet coppery smell. 

D is for drinking blood ;)  And no, my MC isn't a vampire - though this passage sure makes him kind of sound like one, huh?  Rioss has been finished recently and is currently in the editing process.  I'm actually really excited about this piece because of how complex the story becomes.  There are layers to it, and things that I didn't even realize would happen.  My characters were so strong that they took me on for a ride, not the other way around.  Rioss is intended to be the first in a trilogy, though I haven't even started outlining the second book.

B is for Boat

This is another excerpt from The Unanswerable.  The cover concept is to the left, but there is no guarantees that this will be the final cover.  I will be posting excerpts from time to time throughout the A to Z Challenge, but most of them will probably be really silly anecdotes and self-reflections.  Here it is:

      She stumbled over the rocks that had fallen across the street.  I caught her by the arm and steadied her.  "You okay?"

      She nodded and yanked her arm away from me.  It seemed like the silent treatment would never wear off.  Teenagers could really hold a grudge.  Though, I couldn't honestly say that I blamed her, after everything I had said.  I was ashamed of myself.  She didn't deserve the blame, there was so many things that happened in one desperate moment.  Alisha wasn't the problem it was me. 

      We walked by another collapsed house.  The grass was littered with ash, it was completely gray.  The whole area was gray, and it smelled of burning hair.  We passed by a few more cars, and I kicked some of the tires.  They were all flat from the shards of the explosions.  It was a miracle that we were still alive.

      Alisha pointed to a boat.  It was perfectly untouched, huge.  Whoever once owned the house that was now a pile of rubble was clearly rich.  How had it stayed so perfect?  It looked so incredibly out of place with everything around it.

       "I always wanted a house boat."

       I never thought I would be so grateful to hear a teenager talk in my whole life.  "Why?"

       She kicked at the soot underneath her shoe and thought about it for awhile.  Our footprints left deep impressions in the inch of ash.  "I wanted to be able to leave whenever I wanted."  She turned back towards the way we had came.  I stopped with her and joined her gaze.

       It was flattened.  The sky looked as gray as the ash from all the smoke and debris that still was caught up in the air.  It probably wouldn't settle until the rains came, and who knew when that was going to be.  It was the middle of a hot summer, and even though the humidity was making the soot stick to our sweaty necks, making the creases black as night.

       "It seems ridiculous now, don't you think?"  She glanced at me, the blues in her eyes still managed to capture the sun through the haze.  "To want to leave it all behind?"  She turned around and took a few steps down the road.  "It's almost like it was supposed to happen."  Alisha clenched her fists and kept going.

        I don't think fate had anything to do with this.  It wasn't destiny for me to lose my wife and son, but I had learned by now that this was just her way to have it make sense.  She couldn't stand to think that her brother, mother, and father had all disappeared in an instant.  Her friends, her future, her life, everything shattered overnight.  Just like mine.

        Fortunately for her, she wasn't in love, not when the bombs dropped.  Fortunately for her, she didn't have a child.  Unfortunately for her, she hadn't even barely lived yet.  When the announcement came on, that was all she thought about:  I still need to live.  I need to keep on living, and I just need to go.

        That was what I thought.  But I thought about my wife too.  As soon as she passed, it went back to me.  All my survival instincts kicked in and I ran with Alisha by my side.  My wife didn't even get a proper burial.

         I caught up to her in a few long strides.  "It wasn't because you thought about escaping.  All of us think about getting out at some point.  I used to ask people if they wanted fries with that.  That summer, I really wanted a way out."  I chuckled.

         She gave me a sideways glance and sighed.  "I thought about running away so many times.  I packed a bag one night.  I was so angry when my mom grounded me for going out with Tom.  It's so silly.  If only she could see me now..."  Alisha got a high pitched tone, "'Now, Alisha, what have I told you about hanging out with older men?  You know they only want one thing!'"  She laughed.  I laughed too.  I thought so many times how I would have "the talk" with my son.  I worried about being a good dad.  "Is it true though?"  She stopped suddenly and grabbed my arm, "Do you all really only want one thing?" 

Lucky Number 7

1000th.monkey tagged "Whoever wants to do this" so I figured, in celebration of just finishing my WIP (Woo, Rioss is finally done at 65,000 words... editing to begin soon).

Don't forget about my giveaway!  (Ends March 31)

According to the rules:

Go to page 77 of your current MS
Go to line 7
Copy down the next 7 lines - sentences or paragraphs - and post them as they're written.
No cheating/tweaking/polishing/rewriting

And here are the seven lines from Rioss.  I'm a little disappointed that none of them included dialogue, but for a rough draft, the passage isn't too bad:

     As if this was no big deal that we were stuck in here together. But remembering the bloodlust that I felt last night, what I felt towards him… it was the darkest, purest form of rage that boiled inside me. I couldn’t help to think that Marc probably had that too. We were, are, natural enemies. Everything in my body told me to run away, to attack, to kill, to hide, everything all at once. The instincts shot through my body, and I only managed to keep them under control because of her.

     I forced myself to return the smile, though I had no idea what they were talking about.

1000th.monkey's did come with questions, so here I go!

When did you start blogging and why? 

I've had a lot of "blogs" over the years.  From livejournal to myspace, they were all ways for me to tell stories.  I even have an old journal that I can't even remember where it is hosted that was dedicated to my high school writing.  But this blog was started on August 8, 2011 with my short story "Kasha."  I definitely started this as a motivation tool.  If I met some cool people who encouraged me to write, then it was 100% worth my time.

If you could do anything tomorrow, what would you do?  

Take the day off.  I really want to edit my pieces that I've finished.

Describe your happy place.

Star Island.  I can totally show you:  Picture here  I took that photo last summer when my husband and I traveled out to Star Island.  We did it days before we got married (and I got a vicious sunburn).  I wanted him to see it before we got married, since I did a lot of growing up on the island.  :)

What was your first happy memory? 

I guess the silliest memory I have was when me and my second grade friends were running around and pretending we were in the Animaniacs show.  

What was the scariest thing you've ever done? 
Sat in a graveyard way late at night.  I have an awesome ghost story about that night, but it was kind of horrific when it was happening.

Where is the strangest place you ever had an idea for a story? 

I usually get ideas in my car - by talking to myself.  I have conversations like "Would you rather - and why?  What if someone chose the other route?  What if this happened?"  And eventually, a concept comes out of it.  Sometimes I think I'm crazy, but other times I realize that this is just the way I work.

Where do you write? 

Anywhere I can, but usually on a computer at a desk (I pretty much only exclusively use desktops).  I have an AlphaSmart that could bring me anywhere.  When it is warm outside, sometimes I'll sit in the backyard and click away on that.

If you just won a ticket to anywhere in the world and you had to take me, where would you take me and why?

1000th.monkey, hmmmrrmmmm...  Well, seeing as how I've been to Europe already and am going to Hawaii soon, I'd have to say I would totally force you to go snowboarding with me.  Let's do the Alps ;)  And why?  Because I really want to snowboard - and regardless of whether you like it or not, it is bound to be beautiful.

I am also supposed to tag seven people, but most people I know have already done this.

Though I don't think that Crystal Licata has done this yet (so I'm calling you out).  If anyone else wants to do it, please feel free - I'd love to read yours!

The Unanswerable

Don't forget to check out my March Giveaway!  Ends March 31st!

A new excerpt from a new project The Unanswerable.  I really really need to stop coming up with new projects and focus on my old ones.  This may be the last excerpt from this for awhile, but hey, it's fun stuff.  Also, my idea for a cover is below as well.  Fun times :)  I love designing, it's a really good way to pass the time.

Here's a project update (you can look at my WIP bar on the left hand side too!):

• Rioss - just passed the 43k mark.  Working towards 70k, then onto editing and possibly book two.  Though, I might pause on book two and go back to it a bit later.
• Ruhe - I really need to finish editing this piece.  Someone kick me in the butt until I get this done, please?  This is on the back-burner, as I focus on Soul Therapy.
• Soul Therapy - currently in two contests.  Waiting for the finalist announcement on Brenda Drake's blog, and waiting for the Amazon Breakout Novel Contest quarter finalist list.  Still need to do some serious editing here too, but it's still written.
• The Unanswerable - new project, post-apocalyptic story.  See below for cover concept and an excerpt!  Just started the brainstorming process.  Possibly an adult novel.
• Kingdom of Obsession - put on hold
• Good Criminal Heart- put on hold
• 2042 - put on hold

Dark clouds rolled across the sky in the abandoned town. The windows were boarded up in the small convenience store that we took shelter in, but the windows were shattered. It was going to be a long night.

Alisha came up behind me, running her fingers along my back. She nestled herself into the crook in my shoulder. “What’s going to happen?”

I sighed and looked at her. Her eyes refracted the darkness of the sky, I could see the clouds rolling over her eyes. A lightning bolt shot down from the sky in the direction we had come from. We had gotten out just in time. Thunder shook the air and a cold gust of wind picked up.

“We go inside, for now. We wait.” I turned and walked in the door. We had found a lot of supplies from an Army Surplus store only a few blocks away. Most people had taken all they could carry. We were probably the last of the crowd heading south. We hadn’t seen anyone yet, but since there were no cars and no food left, we had to assume we weren’t the only survivors.

She shut the door and locked the latch. The whole place smelled of rotten wood. The whole town was like this, but the convenience store had the most solid roof. We weren’t far from the city, far from the explosions. That’s why almost everything was destroyed. Everything had collapsed.

Alisha settled down on her sleeping bag and hugged her knees, burying her face in her hands. She sobbed slightly. I squeezed my eyes shut. If I ignored her for long enough, she would get over it. She would come out of it.

But as another wave of thunder ran over us, shaking the whole building, her wailing only increased. I sighed. Verity would have my head if she knew I was letting a girl cry like this. I couldn’t, I wouldn’t… for her.

I sat down next to Alisha, and she immediately curled her body into mine. As tears rolled down her face, the rain started to pound the side of the store. Little sprays of water got inside the cracks in the boarded up windows and shot onto the floor.

“I just can’t believe they are all gone… my mum…” I didn’t want her to continue. I didn’t want to hear it. I wanted to grieve just as much as Alisha did, but we had to get out, we had to survive. I couldn’t stop to think about her, not yet. “My dad, Adam…” She took several shaky breaths before letting another wave of hysteria creep into her. She shook and pounded on my chest with her fist. “Why us? Why me? Why you? Why now?!”

I grabbed her wrists and pulled her face close to mine. I could smell the salt of her tears, I could taste the cherry gloss that she had applied to her lips. “Stop asking. It is us, it is me and you, and there is no other reason. You understand?”

She nodded a little, her dark brown hair fell into her face. She sat up and looked down at the floor, refusing to look at me again. I leaned my head against the wall with a thud.

“I don’t want to blame you, Alisha… but I do.” I closed my eyes. I didn’t want to look at her, because I needed to say this. I needed to tell her otherwise it was going to eat me up. “If I didn’t help you… I might have been able-“

Her hand touched my cheek. I opened my eyes, and she was an inch from my face. “I’m sorry, Matthew. I’m so so sorry.” Tears welled in the corner of her eyes. “I was so scared… and…” She sat back on her heels. “I’m grateful you did. I don’t mean to seem like I’m not. I’m still scared.” She shook her head.

I took her hand and grit my teeth. It was easier than crying, to feel my teeth pressed so hard against each other that they might shatter out of my skull. I loosened my jaw for a moment and said, “It’s us now, okay? It’s just us, and we both have to learn to live with that. No more whys. I can’t deal with any more whys.”

I Heart YA Giveaway Winner!

And the winner is...

Tiffany Drew!!

Congratulations!  I will send you an e-mail shortly to get your mailing address (and which title you would like!)

To everyone else:  I will be having more giveaways in the future.

I can't believe I'm over 100 followers!  It seems like just yesterday I started this blog with the hope of maybe getting a few people here or there to notice my work.  And while I'm an avid reader, I'm also a writer.

The next giveaway will be my birthday giveaway in March.  I'll have two winners - the first one will win one of a few books.  The second will win my first e-short story. (I plan to publish two of them soon, so you'll be able to choose which one you'd like).  Exciting, yeah?

And with that being said, I should leave y'all with an excerpt from Rioss: 

I paced outside of the room.  We were in the front office, the nice looking one.  The one that didn’t have bars on the outside and blackened windows.  I would have taken the time to bask in what little sunlight I was getting, but I was too impatient.  As much as I wanted to listen in all my nerves were firing at once, I couldn't focus.  What if my parents truly start to believe that I’m not getting better?  What if Dr. Calhoon convinces them that I’m crazier than I am?  Wait, scratch that, what if she actually convinces them that I am crazy?

It was stress.  They blamed it on the wolves, on me seeing Adam’s throat slit in half.  They blamed it on the way I could describe the details of the flesh as it bounced on his neck.  They blamed the fact that I could describe the bubbles of blood that ran along the forest floor.  They blamed all of it on that one event.  Sure, post-traumatic stress existed, but that wasn't it.  Adam was still alive.  I knew it.

I ground my fingertips into my arm, forcing myself to calm down.  I needed to know what they were talking about.

Dr. Calhoon laughed.  The cackle was loud enough that even the guard sat up more straight.  He had eaten onions for lunch, the sweet tanginess of them bubbled out from inside his stomach and escaped his mouth with the souring smell of stomach bile.  No, I told myself.  Focus on the words, the vibrations in their vocal cords.  Focus.

Giveaway Winner!

Last month, I ran a giveaway for a paperback copy of Water for Elephants!

Congratulations goes to:

Janina at Synchronized Reader

I'll be in touch shortly to get your mailing address!

Additionally, I am participating in the I Heart YA Giveaway Hop!  I will post on February 13th with details, but please note that rafflecopter will not open until midnight on the 14th (as per giveaway hop rules).  It looks like I'm going to have some fun library copies to give away.  The winner can choose one of the four books.  In March, I'll be doing another giveaway with the three remainder books - so on until they are gone!

In addition, it's been a really long time since I've posted any writing, so here's an excerpt of my short story "Yellow Eyes."  It is based on my DnD character!  *pushes up the nerd glasses*

Telleke bent over me and soothed my hair, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to.”  His voice was calm, collected, cool, everything that I wasn’t.  He offered his hand.  I took it.  When I was back on my feet, a few steps later, he shoved his leg between mine again, and I crashed into the ground.  The class roared with laughter.

I rolled back onto my feet, hunched my back and glared at him.  I launched myself and screamed at the top of my lungs.  I tackled Telleke into the ground and shoved my fist into his nose.  The crack of my knuckles against his skull sent a shooting pain up my arm, but it was no worst that what happened to his face.  His nose was skewed, off-center.  It was already turning purple.  Not to mention the blood.

I scampered backward off of him.  The whole class stopped breathing , the instructor rushed to Telleke’s side.  I stared down at my hands.  The blood, the blood, the blood.  A flash of my mother’s face, the twisted knots in her hair catching all the falling red that escaped her mouth.  All of the deep red that pooled around the back of her skull.

That's all you guys get for now ;)  Ideally, I want to publish this for .99 or something really cheap.  I really love the weird, random story that my DnD character managed to create.  Did I mention that she has massive compulsive disorders now?  Oh, yeah, and she eats chalk.  She's quite fun to play, though she can't contribute that much to the group.

Congratulations again Janina!  I look forward to next giveaway! 

Rioss

I'm now up to 18,000 words, and I'm still pantsing.  I outlined the very beginning of the novel, but honestly, I have no idea what's going to happen in the middle.  The characters keep surprising me, which I am thankful for, since they won't allow me just to write the main plot.  They keep introducing side stories and sub characters, and unsuspected villains... etc.

As far as #WIP500 is concerned, it's going well.  I've written at least 500 words every day, including 2,000 yesterday.  I know it is only one week in, but I feel like I'm being held accountable by some mythical internet beings (and Cara Michaels).

* * * Rioss Excerpt * * *


Marc’s hair was plastered against his forehead, caked on by a mixture of sweat and a thin layer of grime. He had just showered yesterday. In fact, all of him looked so much more alive yesterday. He had a blush that was spread across his face, tone in his skin, and all of that was gone. One day with the guards had stripped him of anything that made him look alive. He walked up to us, but walked was the wrong word. He limped? His whole body looked rigid, as if he lacked the very essence of movement.

Trixy and I exchanged a glance. Concern welled in her eyes. I didn’t know what to make of it - what had happened to make him look so bad in just one day?

He collapsed in the seat next to me. His body trembled slightly as the air around him turned cold, or was he just that cold?

“What did they do to you?” I said under my breath, as if we were being watched. I tried to ignore the other patients' eyes on us, there were no guards, no orderlies, no reason to be paranoid, but I was. This wasn’t supposed to happen to people - even if people made me feel the way Marc did. Though, sitting next to him now, there was no threat. All of my body stopped being on edge, and I was actually worried about him.

“They wanted me to eat,” Marc said. He flopped his head down on the table and grumbled some more words into the plastic.

Trixy arched an eyebrow at me, “Isn’t that usually supposed to make people feel better?”

Marc coughed, his whole body heaved and shook with it. He used his arms to prop his head up. It looked like it was taking all of his strength just to lift his head off the table. He looked at Trixy with the same sideways smile that he always had. “I told them it wouldn’t work.” His eyes glazed over.  He was distant, lost. “That’s not the way I eat. They put an IV in my arm.” He showed us the crook of his elbow, a deep, red and black bruise had spread throughout the area. It looked like a rash from allergies.

“What are you talking about?” I hissed.

He opened his mouth to answer me, but before he could get any words out, black and red bile spewed from his mouth. The bloody liquid spread across the table and leaked in large drips onto the floor.

Rioss

My new work in progress, inspired by Sarah Rios (or really, just one of the many people that has been encouraging me to write this piece).  I'm up to 7,000 words, and hope to finish an additional 25k before I go back to work (next Tuesday).

A brief tidbit:  Jeremy told his parents that he was a werewolf.  They thought he was insane and dropped him off in Rioss Hospital.  It is in the hospital that the story unfolds.  Here's an excerpt:

         But the scream was so guttural. It had seemed urgent, like life or death. Usually, when people screamed in here, it was madness. It would be shrill and would last for minutes, and it would happen again and again. This was once, and then it was silenced. The doctors wouldn’t have been able to get to her that fast.

I don’t know why I was so worried. Screams happened all the time at Rioss, but all the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. Something told me not to go to bed, and I stayed up, eyes trained on the window. If I saw a shadow, heard any footsteps, I would lunge. Five minutes passed without any more noises, just the usual shuffling of feet to the sides of me. Some deep moans from people that were forced into sleep by enough drugs that would induce a coma on any normal person. The window remained empty, but it was my only way to see out of my dingy room.

If anyone was coming for me, I would be ready. Ten minutes passed. Then fifteen. Then the shadows on the walls changed. Someone moved outside, but too fast. Someone was - another scream. Blood curdling like the one before, but on this floor. Again, it died as quickly as it had started. I heard the same voice, still muddled. Relax, it said. I crouched close to the wall, my heart pounding in my chest. Five more minutes, then ten. The shadows changed patterns again. A distant latch on a door clicked into place. Silence.

After a few more minutes, the only thing I could hear was the pounding of my blood rushing through my head.

Deja Vu Blog Hop

There's another awesome blog hop going on (and though I cannot get the widget to work, I can still link to it).  Take some time to cruise the other blogs over at: DL Hammon's Blog.  There are some really good entries out there that went overlooked the first time around.

The deal is you re-post one of your previous blog entries.  This is mine from when I first started blogging, and didn't have many followers.  It is from Derrick's perspective (one of the really good friends of my MC in Good Criminal Heart - work in progress) and I think it captures him almost perfectly.  I love Derrick as a character, more than my MC, to be honest, and that's why I loved this post.  This is not supposed to be a finished piece, this will never be published (except on here).  This is Anthony's story, not Derrick's - but Derrick plays a huge role.  It was a fun exercise, and I still invite feedback if you care to give any.

Here's the original (with some editing to spiff it up a bit!):

Kelli slid towards us after the show was over.  I tried to turn my back on her, but something about her made it impossible.  It might be the fact that she follows your eyes wherever you turn.  She wouldn’t let me forget about her.  So eventually I gave in.  There was nothing about her I particularly liked – but it wasn’t like I hated her either.  The ratty nest of bleached blonde hair with black underneath, the dark make up coating her eyes, the pink lip gloss that she used, the over-sized t-shirt that she wore dangling off of one shoulder, it all made her a complete scene girl, and for whatever reason, she had decided to fall for me.  I never could tell her that I wasn’t that into it, into her, but I figured, what else did I really have going for me at the time?  She wasn’t a bad girl, she just wasn’t particularly nice either.

“So where are we going?”  She smacked her gum chewing lips together and tossed her hair behind her shoulder, it fell in a clump.  I looked to the guys – they were already doing their thing.  Anthony was talking with Tyler and Jess about god knows what, and Eric was already off with his girl, what the hell was her name again?  It was one of Kelli’s friends – I didn’t know.  I always thought it was weird that someone would be into him.  Eric was scruffy, he had long hair, was kind of dirty, and was really lazy.  Sure, he came up with great lyrics for our band and was somewhat of a musical genius, but if we weren’t going to become famous, he really had no future to speak of.  Kelli’s friend was what you would call gorgeous, short, petite, a pixie brown haircut and eyes to make you melt.  I never understood it.

“No idea,” I shrugged the band’s gear onto my shoulders.  “Tyler, is your car open?”  He was still talking to Anthony – who looked bored, but he always looked bored.  The crossed arms, jaded look in his eyes, shuffling his feet every minute or so, yup, bored.  Maybe Anthony was always bored.

"Tyler, your car man?”  He tossed me the keys without even looking.  Kelli swooped down and plucked them off the floor.

“Perfect,” she got a smirk on her face.  I almost sighed, but followed her swaying body out back towards the car.  I put in two of the cases, shut the trunk, and turned around before Kelli crashed into me.  Her lips collided with mine.  I wondered if other guys ever felt this way – completely and utterly molested when a girl kissed them.  Did they just “go with it to” or were they actually into it?  And it wasn’t that I wasn’t into Kelli – okay, it really was that I wasn’t into her, but what was I supposed to do?  So I kissed her back and felt miserable about it.  I continued to keep up a charade with her, and for what?  She was just using me, probably not the same way that I was her, but it was still similar.  She had no interest in the type of person I was, she probably couldn’t even tell what color my eyes were if I shut them.  She was just, dare I say it?  A groupie.

That’s when we heard the screaming and saw Anthony and Tyler run into the alleyway.  “Should we go help them?”

“Naw, let them take care of it – Tyler’s strong, I mean, you’ve seen the guy right?”  Kelli rested her head on my chest.  On instinct, I put my arm around the small of her back.  “He’s so handsome, I mean have you ever seen his muscles? Ugh.”  I made a face as Jess came up from behind Kelli.

“Excuse me, bitch?”  Jess's lips pursed, her hands on her hips.  Jess was overprotective of Tyler, for good reason.  Tyler never realized how many girls threw themselves at him on a daily basis, but Jess did.

I inched myself away from them as their voices raised, cussing and screaming at each other.  I stared up at the sky, I could just barely see the outlines of the clouds in the dark, midnight blue.

Can We Guess Your Character's Age Contest Entry

Brenda Drake is holding another awesome blogfest contest.  With your comment below, remember to try to guess my character's age as well!

I'm still unsure of this as a beginning -- the first chapter always seems to be the hardest for me.  Though I think it is "getting there."  Any comments/helpful insights would be very welcomed :)  I always love constructive feedback!
 
           My father dropped the last bag with a huff and looked over the long winding sidewalk up to the main set of brownstones xxxxxxxxx.  "Are you sure you don't want us to come in with you?"

            I shook my head.

            My mother arched her eyebrow.  She looked at the measly two bags that I had packed.  "We could come back with more of your stuff, you know.  It's not a far drive."

            I shook my head.  I didn't want anything else.  Everything that had been left at home was there for a reason.  The old jacket from Ched, the worn out skirt that was too small that had been to one too many parties... everything was a reminder of who I used to be.  This was a fresh start, or it was supposed to be.  Though, I didn't know how much of a fresh start I could get here.

            My mother wrapped her arms around me and held me in a hug for a little too long.  I was used to this, after everything I had put them through.  I patted her on the shoulder, attempting to let my thoughts cross into her head.  It would be fine, I wanted to convince her.

            My father hugged me for just a moment before he pulled away and took a hesitant step toward the car.  "We should at least bring your bags up, kiddo.  What if they start asking too many questions?"

            I held up the pad of paper and tried to smile convincingly.