Thanks to the awesome Jackie at Bouquet of Books for choosing me as one of her Lucky 7! Jax is one of my all-time favorite people, so you guys should go visit her beautiful blog here.
1. Go to page 77 of your current MS. (Or a fave book)
2. Go to line 7.
3. Copy down the next 7 lines - sentences or paragraphs - and post them as they're written.
4. Tag 7 authors.
5. Let them know.
I'm currently revising Spark, my urban fantasy crazy-fest. These are seven sentences between MC Riona and Sven, the half-demon who's been in love with her for almost 800 years. Obviously, he effed up.
“I’m going to go to my car,” she said through clenched teeth, “and get my change of clothes, dress, and leave.”
“Riona…”
“And you are going to sit here, alone, and think about what should have happened, as opposed to this…mess.” Riona shuddered with her anger at its boiling point. Sven sat like a scolded animal, eyes boring into the floor with their own heat. She slammed the door behind her for good measure.
The chill of late afternoon air cut through the terrycloth like a hundred little talons. Her back throbbed against her shivering muscles. Demon blood was highly valued in the first and second centuries for its anesthetic properties. The first Trackers hunted these demons, and Reapers like Demaris would make the kill. Reapers and Trackers always worked in teams, side-by-side, sometimes marrying and becoming one hellishly amazing track-and-kill machine. The marriages were rarely borne from love. More or less, they were the logical next step.
That’s how her mother and father were. A team, but not necessarily in love. The system worked for the most part, with or without love. Reapers and Trackers, Rippers and Psychers. Balanced.
The clothes she needed lay neatly in the backseat, a pair of jeans and a pale green button-down shirt. Her shoes had been salvageable, at least, though the dark stains on the leather would never come out. That’s what I get. A ruined $300 suit, ruined $100 shoes, ruined evening, ruined hope… She cursed herself for hoping. That was the one thing she knew never to do.
“I’m going to go to my car,” she said through clenched teeth, “and get my change of clothes, dress, and leave.”
“Riona…”
“And you are going to sit here, alone, and think about what should have happened, as opposed to this…mess.” Riona shuddered with her anger at its boiling point. Sven sat like a scolded animal, eyes boring into the floor with their own heat. She slammed the door behind her for good measure.
The chill of late afternoon air cut through the terrycloth like a hundred little talons. Her back throbbed against her shivering muscles. Demon blood was highly valued in the first and second centuries for its anesthetic properties. The first Trackers hunted these demons, and Reapers like Demaris would make the kill. Reapers and Trackers always worked in teams, side-by-side, sometimes marrying and becoming one hellishly amazing track-and-kill machine. The marriages were rarely borne from love. More or less, they were the logical next step.
That’s how her mother and father were. A team, but not necessarily in love. The system worked for the most part, with or without love. Reapers and Trackers, Rippers and Psychers. Balanced.
The clothes she needed lay neatly in the backseat, a pair of jeans and a pale green button-down shirt. Her shoes had been salvageable, at least, though the dark stains on the leather would never come out. That’s what I get. A ruined $300 suit, ruined $100 shoes, ruined evening, ruined hope… She cursed herself for hoping. That was the one thing she knew never to do.
This time, she closed the door gently as she bee-lined toward the bathroom. Sven chattered lowly on his cell phone, his tone heated, though the words were a jumble. Riona disregarded him and changed, already missing the way the robe wrapped around her like lamb-wool soft wings. The shirt scratched against her wounds, pulling against scabs that would disappear by tomorrow at the earliest. What did it matter if Sven had tried to bind her? She’d been bound to him since that first afternoon so long ago.
I've totally already revised this, but the meme says "as is" not "as is revised." So...yeah.
Now for my Lucky 7 ^_^
Laura Diamond @ Laura Diamond Lucid Dreamer
Beckah-rah
Krysten @ The Shadow's Series
Janne @ This Week's Hobby
Landra @ Rise of the Slush
Wilkins McQueen @ Elephants Thailand and China
Jack LaBloom @ Jack LaBloom Romance Writer, Or Maybe Not
3 comments:
Thanks! Carol Riggs nominated me for this meme too! Posting next Friday an excerpt from ENDURE. ;)
Nice wordage, lady! :)
Wow! Thanx bunches! I feel special all over.
Right there with Diamond! Nice words.
Thanks, y'all :)
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