Wednesday Words: Old

wurkn-on-mai-plan-for-word-domination-caleb-pupWednesday. Again. Funny how that works. I finished the line edits for THE BOSS AND HIS COWGIRL. The manuscript is headed back to Mr. HQ Editor. He really pushed me this time. That’s good. But here it is Wednesday. Again. And that means it’s time for #1LineWed. Today’s Kiss of Death theme over on Twitter is “OLD.” I had to look around for something from a WIP about “old.” I found this. It’s a snippet. From the Russian’s story. I’ll let it speak for itself.

He was a man who would never wear a suit and tie. He was a man who would never succumb to the trappings of civilization. Wild. Fierce. Powerful in ways that made women sigh all the way down to their deeply feminine cores. This man would keep his woman safe, bring meat to the cave, and fuck her into oblivion. Danger gathered around him like shadows at midnight. I was always a little afraid of him. But never enough to walk away.

What happened was all my fault. If I’d been the one strong enough, brave enough to leave, I wouldn’t be standing here gazing at the faces around me. No one looked at me. I stood at the back, listening to the rain tap dance on my umbrella.

Nothing made sense. Not how we met. How he came to possess me. How I surrendered to him heart and soul. How his touch devoured me like flames. How, in the end, the light of his love would flicker out, leaving me in the dark.

“You don’t belong here.”

I glanced at the woman who had sidled up next to me. She obviously did, with her spiked blonde hair and patched leather jacket. Property of Easy, the patches said, the words hugging the leaping wolf with the comet’s tail. She was right. I wasn’t Nightrider property. Not anymore. Not that I’d ever been. Really. I didn’t belong, but I’d been unable to stay away.

We’d parted badly, he and I, him ripping my heart from my chest when he roared away on his Harley without a backward glance. I’d heard the news that brought me here from a little bird far too happy at sharing information guaranteed to shred my heart. Again.

So here I stood, hiding under my umbrella though the rain gave way to drizzle, watching to see if it was true. Tall, he could see over the crowd. His eyes found me like a heat-seeking missile. He recognized me, but his expression never changed. That told me all I needed to know. He was done with me. Irrevocably. I was yesterday. Old girlfriend. Old news.

Someone spoke to him and his gaze slid away. Freed from his spell, I turned, walked with an unsteady gait I blamed on the uneven terrain back to my car. I watched my feet, unwilling to trip and fall, furthering my embarrassment. I stopped when I saw the black motorcycle boots blocking my path.

Tilting both the umbrella and my head, I looked up. I’d been a cherished possession when I’d been his, back in the dark ages. He brushed two knuckles across my wet cheek as he breathed my name. “Grace.”

In self-defense, I said the first thing that came to mind. “There’s not enough rain to hide the tears.”

“Do you miss me so much, kotenok?”

Kitten. He still called me kitten. I couldn’t answer so I stepped around him, determined to leave.

He called after me, his voice curling around me like warm fingers. “Always you lied to yourself, but you could never lie to me.”

Truth, that, but I kept walking, telling one final lie to myself—that I could walk away. From my destiny. From Sergei.

No telling when the Russian’s story will be finished. It comes to me in snippets like this so I write them down and save them. What about y’all? Who has some “old” words to share?


About Silver James

I like walks on the wild side and coffee. Lots of coffee. Warning: My Muse runs with scissors. Author of two award-winning series--Moonstruck and The Penumbra Papers, Red Dirt Royalty (Harlequin Desire) & other books! Purveyor of magic, mystery, mayhem and romance. Lots and lots of romance.
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6 Responses to Wednesday Words: Old

  1. Awesome!

    Well, considering pretty much every one of my genies is ‘old’, I thought I’d give you a snippet about the one genie who actually looks old – Demetri Polotkin, Esq. – from In Deep Wish.

    “I trust him with my life.”
    “It may come to that before this is over, you know.” With that cryptic remark, the old bastard turned and stalked from the room. I never met a genie who looked older than the fake age I adopted to throw humans off my trail, but this guy had to be in his seventies. Maybe it was an affectation he put on so his clients wouldn’t think he was too young to litigate. Maybe he just liked the attention. Of course, he could’ve just been turned into a genie at a ripe old age and decided he liked himself too much to change.
    As I followed him, with Major clicking along the tiles behind me, I tried to figure this guy out. I mean, if he really was trying to for old and wise barrister, he should’ve dressed the part. I know he said he didn’t like the heat, but the Hawaiian shirt and Bermuda shorts were way beyond what was necessary for my air conditioned building. Hell, it was too much for Estes Park in the summer, too. A hot day up here hits the 80’s. He looked like he was vacationing in Phoenix.
    “Excuse me, Mr. Polotkin?” I said as he walked down my halls like he owned the damn place.
    “Call me, Demetri. Please.”

    • Silver James says:

      OOH! That’s a fun snippit. I do so love the Djinnocide series! Jo is a favorite and I want a Major. 😉 And any barrister in his 70’s cool enough to wear a Hawaiian shirt and Bermudas could get my retainer. 😀

  2. First let me start off by saying: I just got the scare of my life…
    Old, what would work better than a snippet from the first story I ever tried to write, the story that made me want to be a writer, the story that still pops up now and again and reminds me that one day I will have to admit, I will never be ‘good enough’ for it, and just write anyway?!?
    Lost. I lost everything except for the first 13 chapters that I’d transferred into Scrivener.
    I’d decided to clean up my desktop and move all my stories to a single folder. Only, when I went into it, all I found were the Scrivener chapters. Everything else was missing. All my notes, my bios, my arc summaries, research on history, culture, religions, etc., all my WIP chapters and pictures were gone. There is no way I would have gotten rid of those! I checked my flash drive, my other flash drive, then my OTHER flash drive, I checked my Seagate external, I checked my Passport external – I checked them again and again and again. NOTHING!!! I checked my recycle bin and found shortcuts to my stuff but that was just a tease because I could not open them – the files were missing!!!
    It made no sense, I am ANAL about having a 100 backups (as you can see). How could I have accidentally deleted those files from EVERY backup?
    About to cry, I looked one last time on the Passport, which automatically backs up files. And there, I noticed a second file for my story IN the file for my story… stay with me here. I was sure I’d checked this already, sure it would just lead to a Scrivener backup but NO – My missing items were in there!!!!!
    All I can say is: prayer works ’cause I was begging God, as I plugged that Passport in, that somehow the files had been downloaded in spite of my idiocy.
    Now that I’ve set that up, and copied my story all over the dang place, I will leave you with a blurb from my first every story Vow of the Valkyrie. Please be gentle, this was my first attempt at writing ANYthing:

    Carlin was a handsome Prince and he knew it. His hair was thick and dark, nearly as dark as an Ebbollei’s but not quite, and his eyes were a piercing blue. He had a strong jaw and a muscular physique, both of which won him the approval of many aspiring females. He could have any one of them for his queen, willingly but he wanted only Pelope.
    She was an angel, dainty and pure with silken hair the color of butter and a gentle nature. It was said she was favored by Enaid, a feminine deity worshiped mostly by the peaceable Denorian shepherd folk and Pelope’s beauty left no doubt of this in his mind.
    His mother’s plan all but guaranteed she would be his and how he wanted her. At this moment though, he tortured himself, wondering if he would be able to follow through. Alin was his oldest and closest friend after all. He was also Pelope’s betrothed and that didn’t bode well for friendship.
    “Bring it to the right, we’ll pull in between those two larger boulders, the ones just off shore there.” Parker was Pelope’s older brother and a lion of a young man. Where she was sunny and fair, he was golden and brawny. Their eyes were the same though, a dark but warm brown that gave their faces a friendly glow. At twenty, Parker was already developing laugh lines around his eyes.
    Carlin pulled harder on the oars, enjoying the burn as his muscles strained with effort.
    The others jumped out and pulled the little boat onto the beach but he only watched as Alin lifted Pelope, carrying her easily over to dry sand. The most adoring smile graced her pink lips and he shuddered. He would do anything to have her look at him that way. He fought back his frustration and leapt into the shallow water to help Parker secure a line around one of the many man-sized boulders that littered the narrow strip of beach.
    Sea birds danced over their heads, squawking their annoyance at having been chased from their shallow, saw-grass nests. The black tips of their wings sliced through the air with a surgeon’s precision but he waved them off absently, his thoughts held no room for such insignificant things.
    In front of them loomed a sheer cliff whose sorrel face burned with the early sun’s glare, causing all to squint. Alin brushed the sandy, ill-mannered curls from his eyes, looked up at the unscalable incline before him and frowned. “How are we ever gonna get up there?”
    Parker trudged up from behind and patted his friend’s shoulder. “Don’t fret, Carlin never comes unprepared.”
    Carlin smiled appreciatively at the compliment, as well as the irony. Alin smiled back, oblivious.

    • Silver James says:

      Awwww! I like it! You have a natural rhythm to your storytelling and a real sense of fantasy. Plus there’s some truly cool word choices in this piece! “ill-manntered curls”, “wings sliced…with a surgeon’s precision” 😀

      And I’m so glad you found your files! I really need to look into Carbonite or something so my backups happen automatically. All my writing is now saved to Dropbox. 1, I can access it from any computer, and 2, if my computer crashes, I can access it from any computer. 🙂

  3. THANKS!!!
    I looked into Dropbox – had a free account to try it out but it wanted access to everything. I’d type an email and Dropbox would show up asking me to send it through them. I’d open a file on my desktop and DB would pop up asking me for permission… (I might be exaggerating a bit there, but I could not get away from it. It wanted its grubby little hands on everything and it creeped me out 😉 )
    Someday, if I get a paying job, I might look into Carbonite. If you get a service, be sure to tell us what you think!

    • Silver James says:

      I will. I hear good things about Carbonite but for now, my free account with Dropbox works great, at least for the writing stuffs. And huh…I don’t remember having that problem with Dropbox. It did want to “save” all my photos but I turned that off. I don’t remember how, but I did. LOL

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