Ten points to anyone who gets the title! Today’s #1lineWed prompt is **Pale/Impale**. Since there are no vampires in the current WIPs, here’s a quick scene from NIGHT WISH. Yes, with RDR#9 back in NY, I’m once again working feverishly to get this book ready for release. This isn’t a spoiler. Just a teaser of a scene. And I’m not giving y’all any background. You just have to take it as it. 😉
I was the first one through the doorway. Gunsmoke hazed the air, the acrid stench clogging my nose. Gravedigger and Easy plowed into me because I’d stopped cold. No one spoke while we surveyed the room.
A guy wearing one of our cuts sprawled on the floor, dead eyes focused on the figure standing over him, a Glock dangling from the woman’s slack hand. Fuck. I’d know those sweet curves anywhere. Gen. What the hell was she doing here?
“He’s dead,” Gravedigger announced. He’d know.
“Wiz, you need to get the gun.” Easy’s low voice wasn’t meant to carry.
“Yeah,” I agreed.
Gen’s head came up, horror etched across her pale skin. Her eyes were the size of silver dollars, and though hyperventilating, she managed to gasp out, “It was an accident.”
I stepped closer, reaching for her. “Gimme the gun, babe.”
“I didn’t mean to—” Her voice broke.
Grabbing the Glock, I passed it off to Easy then gathered her into my arms. “Who is he?”
“A…a…” She gave me a helpless look. “A Nightrider?”
“What did he do to you?” I growled the words. She jerked away from me, stumbling back and going down hard enough to bruise her sweet ass. I squatted next to her. “Shh, babe. It’s okay. I’ve got you. He’s not one of ours.”
“I killed him.”
“Did he hurt you?”
A breathy “No” accompanied Gen’s shudder. Her gaze glued onto my face. “But he tried.”
“We’ll fix this.”
We would. That’s what we did best—hide the bodies.
And there ya go. Writers, any impaled words of paleness to share? Readers, what makes you go pale?
Ooo, good one!
Here’s a little bit of Cinder Ugly that fits and doesn’t give too much away (nothing to those who’ve read the first two books)… It’s Jeni and her best frenemy, Mara, going to visit Mara’s grandmother.
Before I knew it, the cab was pulling up outside a long, low building. The sign said Wellspring Community for the Active Aged. Well, wasn’t that trendy sounding? “Your grandma lives here?”
“For the past year or so. I guess she told Mom she was here, but Mom didn’t bother passing it along. Like she didn’t bother passing along the facts that Grams was still alive.” She sent an annoyed puff of air up toward her bangs. “Sometimes parents can be such a pain in the ass.”
“You’re telling me.”
Her olive skin paled. “Gah. Sorry. Your mom is way worse than mine.”
“No BFD. It’s all about perspectives.” In Mara’s perspective, a lying parent was terrible. In my perspective, I wish the worst my mother had done was lied. You know, instead of tried to kill me.
Yay for you being n the editing process! Can’t wait to read this one!!!