The Line of the Day--NO CRITTING

IAMWRITER · Oct 9, 2014

Ooh love this thread as always!

My contribution is a couple of lines that came to me whilst planning for the NaNo WIP.

"Goes without saying that everything that's just been said will stay between us three."

"Four," Mariel couldn't help but correct, glancing down at her stomach as she ran a hand over it. "Baby's first bank robbery. Also, baby's last."

thedark · Oct 9, 2014

IAMWRITER said:
"Four," Mariel couldn't help but correct, glancing down at her stomach as she ran a hand over it. "Baby's first bank robbery. Also, baby's last."

Ohh. Love that!

Jack McManus · Oct 10, 2014

Originally Posted by IAMWRITER

"Four," Mariel couldn't help but correct, glancing down at her stomach as she ran a hand over it. "Baby's first bank robbery. Also, baby's last."

thedark said:
Ohh. Love that!

Seconding thedark. Made me sit up and go, "Hey, I want more."

Jack McManus · Oct 10, 2014

Ken Hoss said:
From the new WIP, Mercenary Road - Angola Dawn. It's about a Vietnam vet who goes to fight in the Angolan civil war in 1975. Still not sure of the genre, but I'm thinking military thriller.

Good stuff there, Ken. I hope we will see more of it.

ETA: Ah, found some more in SYW, heading back over there to tear into it.

Ken Hoss · Oct 11, 2014

Well, I don't like to disappoint, smoothopr8r.

Fresh off the presses. Further in to this and Dave and Hector have arrived at the training camp.

WARNING: Explicit Language

*Note to HJ: Sorry, but if I bleep out the language, it loses the real feel. Hence the warning.

Dave tossed his duffle bag out and jumped down. Their new home was a large canvas olive drab green tent, which he assumed was Army issue. He picked up his duffle and moved away from the truck.

Hector jumped down, grabbed up his duffle and joined him. “Shit, this is better than we had back when we were in country,” he said, looking at the tent. “Was lucky to get out of the fucking rain over there.”

Dave looked up at the sky, shielding his eyes, and back at Hector. “Don’t think we have to worry about rain.”

IAMWRITER · Oct 12, 2014

Thanks thedark and smoothopr8r

Enjoying what you've been posting here, Ken. Looks like this WIP is coming along very nicely!

Ken Hoss · Nov 5, 2014

Reviving this thread, as it seems to have fallen into disfavor.

Kidding of course.

Nothing on WIP #2, but I have had a breakthrough on #1. Seems the killer is more willing to open up to me now, which may or may not be a good thing. He is one sick and twisted SOB. Well, you be the judge.

In this excerpt, the killer has taken a new victim, and has also changed a few things in his MO. For example, he has kept this victim alive for a full 24 hours, whereas he normally kills them within an hour or so.

WARNING! GRAPHIC CONTENT

The girl moaned and he looked down at her, straight razor in his right hand. Her eyelids fluttered like delicate butterflies and his heart began to race. The other half told him that it was time. He lifted the razor and pressed it against the left side of her throat, just over the jugular. This would be its inauguration, its first blood.

Her eyes opened and he gazed into them, drinking in her fear as he drew the blade across her delicate neck. As she began to choke on her own blood, his own blood began to boil and his heart pounded in his ears, drowning every other sound out. He lifted the blade and watched as the life ebbed from her body, flowing into a pool of red ooze beneath her head.

lizmonster · Nov 5, 2014

Wow, Ken. Visceral and creepy. Brrr. :scared:

Nicely done!

This is a rough little NaNo bit. Elena has just filled Greg in on an event she had left out of an old field report, and he's a little...ticked off about it. Oh, dear. And they had been getting along so well.

“This isn’t some random act of insubordination,” he said, getting to his feet. “He drew on you, Elena. He threatened to kill you. I don’t care what kind of war zone you were in, that should have ended his career! And after all that - how in the hell did you end up in bed with him?”

That was apparently going to far. “Are you mad about the omission,” she snapped, eyes flashing, “or about me sleeping with yet another man who isn’t you?”

Ken Hoss · Nov 5, 2014

lizmonster said:
Wow, Ken. Visceral and creepy. Brrr. Nicely done!

Love the lines, Liz. If I had to guess, I'd say he's more pissed about her sleeping with yet another man who wasn't him. :tongue

Thanks, Liz, glad you found it visceral and creepy, that's exactly what I was going for. It wasn't easy to write that part, at least in my head, but for some reason it just flowed out when I started. I fear that I may be getting too close to this killer. :evil

I did just buy a 6 disc set called "Inside the Criminal Mind". It's a 30 episode documentary that covers killers like Jack the Ripper, H.H.Holmes, Jeffery Dahmer and John Wayne Gacy. Some interesting material, and lots of ways to kill. It also includes spree murderers, mass murders, as well as rampage killing and the killers. It's a crime writers dream.

Ken Hoss · Nov 5, 2014

More from this section, further down from the previous. Note, this may not be as graphic as my prior excerpt, but if you suffer from a weak constitution, then I suggest that you do not continue.

CONTAINS MINOR GRAPHIC CONTENT

The other half wanted a different trophy, a trophy that required this tool. He walked around the table, shears in hand, and began his task. It wasn’t as easy as slicing off an eyelid, or scooping out his prize, and yet it was what the other half told him to do. The shears were up to the job and made short work of the bone in her left ring finger. With a final snap, he lifted his trophy up and shuddered in excitement.

There was one more thing to do before he could clean up, one more trophy to take, and then he could dispose of her. He had taken a similar trophy from his last victim, a trophy the new feeling had told him to take, before he knew its name. He reached back into his bag and removed a pair of scissors, another new addition to his tools. Her hair was soft to the touch and for a moment he almost regretted taking her life, but that quickly passed as he snipped a lock of her silky golden hair.

Ken Hoss · Nov 15, 2014

Okay, so I haven't had to endure delving into the killers mind these past few days. Actually, I think I've been avoiding it to be honest. It is a very dark, sick and twisted place. Below is an example that I pried from that place.

To note, the killer has changed his MO and is now taking time with his victims, taking pleasure in their fear and discomfort, euphoric as he draws the razor across their slender necks.

WARNING: CONTAINS SICK AND TWISTED STUFF

With some disdain, he lifted the body from the table and lowered it onto the blue polyethylene tarp. It wasn’t what he had intended, and he would have preferred something less conspicuous, but it would have to do. He kneeled down next to her, closed his eyes and inhaled her scent one last time. He shivered with excitement at the memory, the way she pleaded with her eyes as he placed the razor to her neck, the smell of her fear mingled in with her blood as he drew the blade across.

Ken Hoss · Nov 16, 2014

More from this chapter, the killers POV. This follows the previous line I posted.

WARNING: GRAPHIC CONTENT

Before he could move her there was one more task to finish. There was still some cleaning to do, at least three quarters of a gallon by his estimate. The shiny gelatinous pool of darkness that had once been her life reflected the light from the propane lantern above, and had just begun to coagulate as he watched in childlike wonder. It was another reason to despise the other half, to want it gone and to embrace the urge. The urge had never demanded this much from him.

Ken Hoss · Nov 16, 2014

Being prolific today. More from the killer. Follows the previous.

WARNING: SICK MIND ALERT!

He turned and walked back to his car, breathing in the early morning air with a smile on his face. The other half was silent now, and he didn’t miss it. He did miss the urge, the one feeling that he understood, and had since just after his twelfth birthday, the day he had made his first kill.

Introversion · Nov 16, 2014

Whoa, Ken! This is quite a dark direction for you.

Interesting!

Warning: Mild language in this snippet from my WIP:

As a neighbor, Doug figured he’d eventually have to brain Jason with a shovel, dice him, and feed him to chickens in the dead of night. But a garrulous ex-coworker, even a shovel-worthy asshole like Jason, was useful enough to suffer among the living.

Zelenka · Nov 16, 2014

Great stuff, Ken and Introversion!

Saoirse · Nov 16, 2014

Completely new to this thread.

Ken & Introversion, great stuff! Ken, yours is creepy (and I like creepy!). I get Dexter feels from it.

Here's some of my WIP that I've been revising. From a completely new scene to the draft.

WARNING: EXPLICIT LANGUAGE

(Hope that's okay!)

Backstory: My Hunters are trapped in the basement of one of the buildings in their compound. One of their own has just betrayed them...

[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]"I'm not giving up." Cobra paced. "I didn't almost kill myself getting here just to give up. There has to be a way we can get out of here."[/FONT]

[FONT=Times New Roman, serif][/FONT]

[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]I had a thought. "What about the duct work? But none of that leads outside," I grumbled. [/FONT]

[FONT=Times New Roman, serif][/FONT]

[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]Shit. Dumb idea.[/FONT]

[FONT=Times New Roman, serif][/FONT]

[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]"Wait a sec." Brianna came forward. "I remember some intel from like, forever. Supposedly each Hunter compound in the country has a hidden tunnel system that leads outside. Some Hunter compounds are even connected together via these tunnels. If we could find it – "[/FONT]

[FONT=Times New Roman, serif][/FONT]

[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]Cobra grabbed Brianna and kissed her, full on the lips and everything. She flushed. "You, my dear. are fucking brilliant."[/FONT]

[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]Brianna studied the ground and her shoes. "It's not that big a deal. It's just something I heard. It might not even be true."[/FONT]

[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]"No, I think it is." Sam smiled at Brianna. "I had forgotten about the tunnel system. And, naturally, I've forgotten where it is exactly."[/FONT]

[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]"We'll fucking find it," I said, standing. "We can search the basement in no time flat. And hopefully, we'll be able to get out."[/FONT]

Zelenka · Nov 16, 2014

Sounds intriguing, Saoirse!

Not done this for ages. This is from my current WIP. My MC Cally Taylor has found herself caught up with a group of weirdos in some abandoned cellars beneath the Embankment in London, something that seems to be left over from a forgotten building.

‘What do you think is in here?’ she asked.

‘You ask a lot of questions and so far it doesn’t seem to bother you that you’ve not got any answers,’ said Macheath.

‘Oh it bothers me, don’t you worry. You said there’s something down there.’

‘So I did.’

‘So what are you, psychic?’

‘No. See, now there’s a direct answer. You should be pleased.’

Ken Hoss · Nov 16, 2014

Thanks, Intro, Erin and Zelenka. Yes, it is a different direction for me, and some days I fear going back down that path. Seriously. It is a very dark and scary place.

Love it, Erin. Love the grumbling and self deprecation. (Shit. Dumb idea.) Very interesting.

Very nice, Zelenka. How does your character manage to get into such predicaments? Is she unlucky? You've piqued my interest and I want to know what happens.

Well, now for something a little lighter, thank goodness. This is from Cal's POV and he is talking to a football player at the college, who is a friend of the missing girl. In this scene he has brought up the girls ex-boyfriend who she got a restraining order against for his behavior. Cal makes a "suggestion" to the friend who doesn't care too much for the guy either.

“Yeah, I got that when I questioned him. Kid has a serious attitude problem and somebody needs to give him a tune up,” he said and winked at Jason. “Wouldn’t surprise me if it took the police two or three hours to respond, and by then whoever did it would be long gone, and probably hard to identify.”

Jason gave him a puzzled look. “You saying what I think you’re saying? You want someone to beat up Derrick?”

Cal waved his hands and shrugged. “All I’m saying is that the boy needs someone to take him down a notch or two. I ain’t condoning violence or telling anyone to do anything. Just sayin’, that’s all.”

onesecondglance · Nov 17, 2014

Wow, so many great lines here! Good to see this thread alive and kicking...

Something I wrote yesterday. (bad language warning)

For the thousandth time that night she wished she could be inside. See the look on Elizabeth's face when Lyndström caught sight of her. Or maybe she wouldn't see him, but he'd see her and circle around. Glancing off the drunken fuckwits in the club, with their aviator shades and gold chains, white shirts and fake designer jeans. He slips between them, snakelike.

Elizabeth is sipping exorbitant champagne, with a rose petal floating in it. That makes it a cocktail, so the club can charge an extra hundred for the glass. Some dumb yuppie is paying in the hopes of a dance, but she's already turned her back, halfway across the club now, heading for a cubicle.

Lyndström is behind her, close enough to pluck that petal from the glass, but she's oblivious, so self-assured, gliding to a table, evicting the doe-eyed girl in a too-short too-tight dress with a dismissive sneer, sending her tottering off in too-high heels and too-wet tears ruining her mascara. Elizabeth doesn't sit; she drapes herself over the plush leatherette seat. Only at the last moment does she see him.

He grins like a tiger, then everything is blood and broken glass. There's blood on his teeth when he smiles again.

JWNelson · Nov 18, 2014

He put on his sunglasses, turned up the collar of his sport-coat, and pushed open the smoked-glass front door of the saloon in the little shopping center. It had a nautical name and fake anchors and life-saving rings and fishing nets hung on the walls. There was a long, murky aquarium behind the bar with a large, lonely fish staring out at the world, its tail slowly moving from side to side as if it wanted to swim through the glass. The joint stank of sweat, stale beer, and despair.

Ken Hoss · Nov 18, 2014

Love it, OSG. Blood and broken glass. Nice.

Welcome, JWNelson. :welcome:

I like it, reminds me of the old private detective novels, like Mike Hammer or Sam Spade. Noir.

Here's my contribution for today. Back in the killers head, and even more disturbing as he is having a battle between two forces inside his head. (He's going Gollum, as one beta told me.) :tongue

Note: No dialog, as this is all in the killers POV.

He lifted the leather bound album out of the box, blew the dust off and set it on the table. The cover was cracked with age and the book itself bulged from the glut stuffed inside. This was his first memory book and it held a special meaning to him. Inside he had meticulously glued articles about himself and his victims, at least those that had been found. There were other things inside too, things that made the urge angry when he read them, and he had no idea how the other half would react.

As he began to remove the strap that held the large book closed, a small thought began gnawing at the back of his head; what if the other half doesn’t like what it sees, it may want you to do something that would get you caught, and that would be bad for us. He pulled his hand back from the strap, but another thought dug at his brain, a stronger thought; we have to know, we must read it.

Ken Hoss · Nov 22, 2014

Finally got the killer back and added this tonight. Continued from last post. Warning, this is some weird stuff. Oh, and to add a little more context, the chapter title is Mind Games.

The other half was awake now, fully aware of the book on the table in front of him, and it wanted him to open it. His hands trembled and his heart raced as he reached for it. The urge joined with the other half, forcing him to pick it up and open it. He flipped through several pages, but the other half was not interested in his victims, it wanted to see what he was hiding.

As he continued, his hands shook even more, and he dropped the book. A sharp stabbing pain pierced his skull and he grabbed at it; the other half was angry now. When the pain subsided, he reached down for the book, looked at the open page and the other half screamed inside his head; this is our tormentor.

Ken Hoss · Nov 23, 2014

Just one line today, but it's still a creepy one, I hope. :evil

They were united now, a single mind with a single purpose, just as he had feared. In the back of his mind, in a place hidden from his demons, he screamed.

Ken Hoss · Nov 23, 2014

Getting prolific today. Another LOD, this time from Cal's point of view*. He's at a crime scene where the body of a coed was discovered. He has just met the medical examiner for the first time. (The one he knew retired.) It does not start out well, especially since Cal has kept him waiting.

*A welcome change from the killer's POV!

The ME stopped pacing and looked up as Cal came from behind one of the oaks. “You must be Jessup. Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting here?”

Cal looked down at him and shrugged. “My guess is not as long as she has,” he said, looking down at the tarp covered corpse. “You got anything else to bitch about, doc? If not, you want to fill me in on cause of death?”

Introversion · Nov 23, 2014

People have been prolific, I see!

Nice, Ken & JWNelson!

Am nearing the end of the current WIP. Trying to wrap this up in a couple of weeks.

The ugly little building on the shambling east side of Cleveland belonged to a man called Roofer. Roofer was not the man’s real name, but it was the only name he’d ever offered. Roofer was an information broker; a buyer and seller, a magpie collector of facts and rumor. Doug once asked him what price he set on divulging his real name. Roofer just bared yellow and broken teeth, and said if Doug had to ask, he couldn’t afford.

Doug wasn’t sure he could afford Roofer today, but one thing about Roofer: he never sold you something he didn’t have, and he always told you when you couldn’t afford what he did have.

Doug peeled off the Special, and left it in the Monster before approaching the front door. Roofer didn’t suffer connections he didn’t control inside his business. You risked having a patch or hardwire fried — and in the case of a hardwire, if you were brain-damaged by that, well… You should’ve known better, shouldn’t you?

The Line of the Day--NO CRITTING

QWERTY!!!

Weaving through the night.

smoothopr8r

smoothopr8r

Storm Rising A Kelli Storm Novel

QWERTY!!!

Storm Rising A Kelli Storm Novel

Possibly A Mermaid Queen

Storm Rising A Kelli Storm Novel

Storm Rising A Kelli Storm Novel

Storm Rising A Kelli Storm Novel

Storm Rising A Kelli Storm Novel

Storm Rising A Kelli Storm Novel

Pie aren't squared, pie are round!

Going home!

Mi verkas

Going home!

Storm Rising A Kelli Storm Novel

pretending to be awake

JWNelson

Storm Rising A Kelli Storm Novel

Storm Rising A Kelli Storm Novel

Storm Rising A Kelli Storm Novel

Storm Rising A Kelli Storm Novel

Pie aren't squared, pie are round!