The Line of the Day--NO CRITTING

Hi, Gang. *Waves* I haven't posted in here for a very long time. I hope I'll remember to stop by more often.

From my current WIP in my series, The Hourglass Trilogy:

Mr. A handed me my cup of peanut butter latte. “Bottoms up.”

He took a sip from his and wrinkled his nose.

“Bad?” I asked.

“Is this what they use to unclog drains?” he asked. He glanced at the barista who was now giving him the stink eye. “No offense.”

I snorted and took a sip. “Um, it’s…not bad to me,” I said. “Could be worse, it could be bubblegum.” I mumbled the last part so that only Mr. A could hear, and he snickered as we walked away from the counter.

“You’d better be careful what you say in front of her,” I said. “We might get a spit-flavored latte next time.”

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Nice, flarue. Good to see you back!

onesecondglance said:

Nice, flarue. Good to see you back!

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Thank you.

Erin slapped twin C4 charges against the elevator doors, then ascended the dark shaft to rejoin Alex and Jenna fifty feet above.

<snippet of silent radio conversation with another team member>

Aloud, Erin asked, “Ready?”

Jenna’s voice was quiet, even in the silence of the concrete shaft. “Yes.”

Beside her, Alex said, “Just blow the damn doors, Erin. Let’s take our sister back.”

Erin nodded, then smiled. In the stillness before an attack, she knew exactly who she was--what she was.

No one would keep her from her sister.

Interesting, thedark. Piqued my curiosity.


New from the WIP, from the killers POV.

He wandered around the Riverwalk for an hour before he settled in at MadDogs. It was slow, but he hadn’t expected there to be a crowd on a Monday night. But then, it wasn’t the urge that brought him out tonight, it was something else. A new feeling had surfaced, the one from the other night, and its name still eluded him. It wasn’t as strong as the urge, at least not yet, but it was there, just at the edge of his consciousness.

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Nice one, thedark. I want to know what happens next after the kaboom (is there a kaboom? lol).

Good line, Ken. What is the urge that he usually has?

flarue said:

Nice one, thedark. I want to know what happens next after the kaboom (is there a kaboom? lol).

Good line, Ken. What is the urge that he usually has?

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Now you know I can't tell you, that would be cheating.

"Where's the kaboom? There's supposed to be an Earth shattering kaboom."

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ec-8A5k16Ak

Ken Hoss said:

Now you know I can't tell you, that would be cheating.

"Where's the kaboom? There's supposed to be an Earth shattering kaboom."

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ec-8A5k16Ak

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Well, I'm definitely intrigued.

"I'm going to blow up the Earth." lol! Thanks for that, I haven't seen that in years.

Well, I'm writing again. Probably won't be able to do much with this one either, but it's writing. This is something a little different. Written in first person from the point of view of my regular character's wife.

"Even after I left him sitting in a jail cell in the basement of the town hall, the tears I shed were for him, not for me.
But when I got home and faced the boys, the two of them sitting at the kitchen table, talking to each other as I came through the door, I wanted to cry again, for them. For me. For all that our lives had been and would be."

Nice lines, Jeseymour.


Fresh off the press. This is from the killers POV. He is sitting in a pub on the Riverwalk a day after his last kill. Something has changed and he is struggling with a new feeling. Now a waitress has given him the push to figure out what the feeling is and what he has to do. This picks up toward the end of the scene. Sorry, a lot more than one line, but it needs context.

“Sorry, but you just look so familiar. I just can’t place where I’ve seen you before. I’m usually pretty good with faces and names, but I can’t remember where I’ve seen you before.”

“Sorry, can’t help you there. I guess I just have one of those faces,” he said and shrugged.

She sighed and nodded. “Yeah, I guess, but I still can’t help thinking that I’ve seen you before. Well, I should get your order in.” She turned and walked back to the bar. When she reached the bar, she turned back and stared at him for several seconds before placing his order.

As he watched her watching him, the new feeling grew stronger, and he knew what it was. He also knew that he couldn’t have her telling anyone that she knew him, if she really did. It wouldn’t be good for him if she decided to call someone, like the police. While the urge was dormant, this new feeling told him what he had to do, and he knew this one would be very different.

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Quote from Glimmers

This is from my WIP Glimmers:

A noise escaped my lips which sounded like a cross between a snarl and a cry. I looked around my studio. He was gone; the mist was gone and the night was over. My heart pounded so strong I worried it might break through my chest and land on the couch.

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Ken, deliciously creepy, in the best way. And how is the feeling different this time, I'm left to wonder...

And Amy, love the "land on the couch" part - threw in a moment of humor in a tense moment.

Jenna, the POV character, is watching from the rafters as a large crowd of teenagers gather in a fan club meeting for her and her vigilante team -- the New York Girls in Black. Jenna's a little freaked out at the adoration (a few paragraphs back, she was thinking It wasn’t right, this adoration. This fandom. They weren’t fucking superheroes, and she wasn’t here to sign autographs or pose for photos. ).

But she's loosening up.

-----

“Second item,” continued Shayna. “We need a name for the club. Can I hear some ideas?”

Shayna held out the microphone, and a flurry of loud suggestions met her query, ranging from “City Shadows” to the more colorful “Black Horde.”

But below her, young Lee Nicholson offered a suggestion that nearly made Jenna lose her grip with the sudden urge to laugh.

“Gibblets! We should call ourselves the Gibblets!”

Shayna hollered, “You hear that folks? Gibblets! What do ya’ll think?”

Wild cheering erupted, vibrating through the rafters and through the soles of Jenna’s leather boots.

Jenna giggled. She couldn’t help herself--Gibblets sounded like a cat treat.

thedark said:

Ken, deliciously creepy, in the best way. And how is the feeling different this time, I'm left to wonder...

And Amy, love the "land on the couch" part - threw in a moment of humor in a tense moment.

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Thank you

thedark said:

In the stillness before an attack, she knew exactly who she was--what she was.

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Thedark - The above line is the kind that grabs me and makes me think. Love it!

By far one of my favourite threads on this forum, LOVE reading these!!

Okay, so this is a tiny snippet from my new WIP:

Cardogenic shock - in laymans terms, her heart was failing.

His was breaking.

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Here's something from my Jack Miller WIP, it's an exchange with a homeowner that perfectly captures the MC's voice.

I banged on the door, and yelled, "FBI,"
The homeowner opened the door, "Can I help you?" She asked.
"Ma'am do you own a laptop?" I ask.
"I do, Why?" The homeowner asked.
"It is of paramount importance, that I get to that computer right now," I said.
"Let me see your badge," She said.
"I don't have time for this horseshit." I shoved past her and into the house.
"You can't just barge into my home like that," the homeowner said.
"I've got a badge that says I can," I plugged the USB into the laptop.
"I'm still waiting on that badge," she said.
"Here, take my jacket, I'm sure there's a badge in there somewhere." I tossed her my jacket. "Nick, it looks like they're headed to that motel just off the highway."
"There's no badge in this jacket," the homeowner said.
"That's probably because I'm a private investigator."

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IAMWRITER said:

Cardogenic shock - in laymans terms, her heart was failing.

His was breaking.

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That was touching and sad and great, all at the same time.

Great lines, everyone.

Love the lines, Amy_D, love the imagery.

Gibblets! Ha! Love it.

Here are a few lines from the WIP. Cal is just getting up, and he's staying in a flea bag motel.

Cal threw his legs over the side of the bed, stretched and yawned. He glanced at the clock and shook his head. Damn, after nine and I’m just getting up. It’s a good thing I’m not back home or Delilah would give me holy hell for sleeping in this late. Guess I’d better jump in the shower and then head down to see those detectives. Wonder if they have any news on our boy.

He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, stood and walked into the motel bathroom. It was a dumpy little place, just off the Interstate, but since he was on his own dime it would have to do. A cockroach scurried out across the floor as he turned the light on and he squashed it with his foot. Where there’s one, there’s a million. He turned the faucet, waited for the hot water and flipped the shower valve.

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Old folks AND new folks! Love new blood in my favorite thread.

Exposition time. This is from the beginning of my sequel, and I'm trying to establish existing relationships without going into miles of detail. This is Greg, our favorite emotional cripple:

He had thought, for years, that what he felt for her was complicated, designed to trip him up when he least expected it. For a time, he had thought her presence was a curse. It was only recently, when faced with losing her, that he had recognized what he felt for her was simple. What was complicated was coping with it.

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This is the guy who wasn't going to get a POV. He has worn me down, and he now has a POV. He's waking up after having lost his leg in a battle.

WARNING: one naughty word.

"Doctor Xiao did a nice job of cauterizing the wound. We shouldn't have any trouble growing you a graft. But in the meantime, it's going to hurt like a son of a bitch."

And just like that, Raman's brain registered the pain, white-hot, nearly numbing, all the nerve endings screaming. He could feel his toes, the toes he did not have anymore. He had always thought that was a myth. "What about the rest of me?"

"Concussion, contusions, one deep cut on your back under a left rib. About what you'd expect for a firefight."

He liked this doctor and his dry practicality. "Who are you?"

"Commander Robert Hastings, chief medical officer, CCSS Galileo," the man said smoothly.

Raman frowned. The name was familiar. "We've met."

"Three years ago, on Aleph Six."

"Did we get on?"

"Not even a little bit."

That made sense. Raman preferred people who were not so easy to charm.

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Love it, Liz. He did right to wear you down.

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.



WARNING: Graphic Language























Hector shouted at him over the roar of the C-130 engines. “Hey, Roberts. You think we’re going to get into the shit pretty soon?”

“Well I sure didn’t sign up to sit on my ass, Sanchez,” he said and turned to the Colonel. “What do you think, sir?”

“I think both of you need to shut the fuck up and get off this fucking plane.”

Dave looked back at Hector and shrugged as he readjusted his duffle bag. The sun was just rising and the heat was stifling. It reminded him of the day he got off another C-130 at Tan Son Nhut Airbase. It felt the same, but the feel in the air was different, and he wasn’t a Sergeant in the U.S. Army, he was a mercenary fighting someone else’s war. All he knew about his employers was that they called themselves the FNLA, the National Front for the Liberation of Angola. It didn’t really matter to him what they called themselves, as long as he got paid.

It was six years and six thousand miles from the jungles of South Vietnam and yet there was a familiar feeling to it all. As they walked to the waiting trucks, he thought about what had brought him here, other than his buddy Hector talking him in to it. After three years in country, he had done his share of killing and had seen hundreds of bodies, a lot of them from his own platoon. And yet he was here, knowing that it would only be more of the same.

Ken Hoss said:

And yet he was here, knowing that it would only be more of the same.

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Nice, Ken. Really sets his personality into place for me.

thedark said:

Nice, Ken. Really sets his personality into place for me.

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Thanks, thedark. Like a lot of people who lived through that war, or any war for that matter, he has a lot of demons running around in his head.