Weekend Writing Warriors: Snow Angel

 

Welcome to a weekly post of Weekend Writing Warriors. If you'd like to check it out or give it a try, click here to go to wewriwa.blogspot.com

Emmily Unbound is now in my editor's queue for November 29th.

Sorry I've been absent. My husband has ongoing medical issues to which a heart attack was added a little over a week ago. After five days in the hospital, his recovery is slow. My job is at maximum stress levels. The wonderful young man that worked with me just moved on to a bigger, better, brighter-future job--the state's D.E.P. (I am so happy for him). After all of that... Across the Night Sky is more than I can tackle right now. I needed to write, not edit. Have you ever felt that way? 

So, moving forward. I'm working on a scifi-ish second-chance romance short story. Is that even a thing? Probably not. I'm enjoying the journey, though.  

I'm just going to start at the beginning. It's a long excerpt--meant to give you the twist taking the story into scifi-ish territory.

Sometimes Caroline tries to convince me I’m senile. Tries. And she’s doing it again. She doesn’t even set my groceries and medicine on the counter before she starts." 

“Whose footprints are on the porch?” Her voice turns scolding when she continues.  “Aunt Eva, you didn’t go outside to fill the bird-feeders, did you? Not in this snow!”

“I most certainly did not. You told me to stay inside when it’s icy or snowy, and I do.” 

She raises her brows as she tilts her head forward, like she’s dealing with a seven-year-old. “Then who left the tracks in the snow? They lead from the porch right out to the feeders and back again. And since you’re the only one here…”

It’s tempting to play dumb. Honesty will lead to that worn-out discussion about me moving into a senior care complex. Then I’ll tell her that senior care is a nice way of saying old folks’ home. It’ll go downhill from there, right to her telling me they don’t want to, but since I told them about my visiting spaceman, they doubt I can continue living on my own--that I can't sort out reality from make-believe. 

But I can.

That's the snippet. Thank you so much for visiting. This is a WIP so comments are especially appreciated. :-)

 

Weekend Writing Warriors: Across the Night Sky 32

 

 

Welcome to a weekly post of Weekend Writing Warriors. If you'd like to check it out or give it a try, click here to go to wewriwa.blogspot.com

I'm very close to asking my editor to put Emmily, Unbound into her queue. By the end of the weekend I will send that email.  And I admit, I. Am. Scared. To. Do. It.

Moving forward. Last week Veronica and Aurora pointed out that readers might not enjoy reading about real bodily functions. :-) I revisited that in my ms. and changed last week's snippet to reflect that change. The drool remains, though. :-)

This is a snippet from a WIP entitled Across the Night Sky. 

This is --I'm not sure what it is. lol. Space Opera. The romance is central. It is not HEA at the end of this book. (There are 4 books in this universe). It is a story of different cultures, different alien races, intolerance, and the tenacity of an abducted human woman dragged across the galaxy. Oh, and her love story with an alien man destined to be a ruler.

Marissa, abducted human, 20-something, is with an injured 'alien' man, Kuylerh. I'm in a new chapter. Kuylerh's rescue has arrived and once again, she's being abducted, but this time it's by his group. She's just had something used on her to subdue her.

Last week's snippet ended with:  While the old guard took a seat at what had to be the controls, her thoughts became a silent prayer. Please, wake me from this nightmare.

 

The snippet:

   

Where she sat, Rissa could only see out the little window beyond the controls, but she became surer by the second she wasn’t in Kansas anymore.

Kansas? She wasn’t even on the same planet.

Facing her abductor—that’s what he was after all--since  he’d taken her against her will—she couldn’t turn her head away.

Beyond him, through the tiny window, darkness was broken only by distant stars. In the pit of her stomach, something worse than nausea was going on. Flutters, then quivers, then it did a wallop of a somersault. Despite all the muscles ignoring her, her eyebrows were working just fine, lifting higher and higher. 

What a sight she must have been, her disbelief transforming into sheer terror right there in front of her kidnapper.  

Her mind raced. They really weren’t human, and that wasn’t Earth. 

A few more lines:

A sour taste rose in the back of her throat. Acceleration pushed her back into her seat. How had this happened? At the point of hysteria, she managed to make a sound. It was the best her paralyzed voice could pull off, and it didn’t sound at all like she was screaming for help.

 

That's the snippet. Thank you so much for visiting. This is a WIP so comments are especially appreciated. :-)