What are you Writing? (Sunday Fiction Post-up: Vol. 20)

The Draconid Peaks where the Nocs nest.

The Draconid Peaks where the Nocs nest.

Time for the Sunday Fiction Post-up! Come share your current work-in-progress here. I’m in the dragon zone over at Romance Done Write at 20k. I have a steep daily goal of 1100 words a day and I’m having trouble hitting my word counts. But I’m gonna keep going.

I invite you to post your title, genre/sub-genre and about 100-150 words starting on the second paragraph of page 19. I know I have a few non-writers, so you may also post an excerpt from your current blog post-in-progress. No need for critique, just a little writer love.

Here’s mine :

I can’t figure him out and it annoys me. Before I even joined the Akademie my peers competed against me, anything to prove the General’s daughter was no better than anyone else or my accomplishments were the result of favoritism. Those kinds of people I’m able to read, their motivations like a list scrolling down their skin. But Ryu, his choices stray from my expectations, they surprise me—and that’s dangerous.

Like he knows I’m watching him, Ryu picks up his head and looks me straight in the eye. His gray eyes stand out against the sharp angles of his bronzed skin and the semblance of a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. If he thinks we’re friends after what I did in the arena today, he’s wrong. So I don’t turn away and shoot him a hard stare. It’s when I hear Captain Daskalov say my last name do I realize he’s not the only one staring at me. Every pair of recruits’ eyes is on me. Jamari kicks my boot from across the skinny boy between us who then glares at me like I did it. I’d glare at me, too.

Have a great Sunday! And Write on!


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20 Responses to What are you Writing? (Sunday Fiction Post-up: Vol. 20)

  1. jadedagehero says:

    The Heroes Of The Jaded Age

    Like talking to a brick wall. He’s in Galaxy Motel, room F9. The road you’re on, only leads to pain kid. Only leads you to this bar, with a glass of vodka that soon turns into a pitcher the older you get.”
    I stood and walked away from her. I was going to leave, but I couldn’t allow her to think that I couldn’t do everything that my father could. I walked back over to her with a purpose.
    “At least I’m doing something, instead of getting piss drunk in a place of fallen maskless heroes.” I said.
    “These maskless heroes once had your spunk, and six times your power. I’mThey could do more than just simply go invisible and sneak up on people. That’s like bringing a toothpick to fight God.”
    “And yet, I keep fighting. I’m not a pathetic old woman like you.”
    “Harsh words, little girl. This pathetic old woman has saved more lives than you can count, and unlike you I’ve never gotten any of my teammates slaughtered.”

    Liked by 4 people

  2. “His gray eyes stand out against the sharp angles of his bronzed skin and the semblance of a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth.” Um-mm, awesome! Totally loving your story!
    Try not to be so hard on your word count there you’ve really got it humming along. I’m at the last 10,000 of my WIP and its like pulling teeth. Its all laid out and I write a paragraph…pause..write another…mow the lawn. What is my problem?
    PS…You need to tell me how to get that super cool widget at the top left with WIP #’s.

    Okay I had to bump to like 119, because I am pretty sure you’ve heard the other already and maybe even this…life’s a blur. 🙂

    “Defender of the Realms” Paranormal Romance …

    Complete darkness and light. Utter madness.

    The worlds of two different gods clashed and combined forces. Generations of folklore had come true and passed into a reality.

    Thoughts plagued him –

    The Devlin of Ahearn. He knew his legacy. He equally knew what he could become, fighting hard to remain at peace, to stay within the normal confines of being human. The lands he controlled understood and feared the ‘Legend’ passed down through century’s time.

    He looked a man through and through.

    Liked by 3 people

  3. More time at the Akademie! This book is really starting to intrigue me. I like the “motivations like a list scrolling down their skin.”

    Here’s from Dark City as always, my gritty contemporary novel.

    Eli studies her face. “What do you want?”

    The question carries a weight beyond the beginnings of a romance. Scarlett answers with uncharacteristic honesty. “Everything. I’d like to hold the world in the palm of my hand.”

    He grins, charmed. “Scarlett the Conqueror.” The fond note in the words warms her.

    “What do you want?”

    He doesn’t hesitate. “Isn’t it obvious? I want to be here with you, right now.”

    That someone could want something so trivial, simply, gracefully, seems absurd. “That’s all? Just this?”

    “I like to think of the past and the future falling away like sand. So that all I stand on is a moment.” He looks down into his salad. “That’s how I live with myself, I guess.”

    She gives him a warm smile, hoping to cheer him. “That’s profound.”

    He returns the smile, and laughs. “I don’t know about that. But this is nice. Being with you.”

    Liked by 3 people

  4. Reblogged this on brittneysahin and commented:
    Check out the blog: Romance Done Write – Every Sunday you can share an excerpt from your work – and read other’s work. I like it because she chooses a specific page/section for you to share!

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Romance Suspense novel: Silenced Memories

    Michael pushed the glass door of his sister’s office open and stopped in his tracks when the event planner turned toward him. He shut his eyes for a second, but even when he opened them they betrayed the slightest hint of astonishment.

    Kate smoothed her hand over her dress as she approached him. She found herself feeling insecure, an emotion she hadn’t experienced since grade school when her body hadn’t developed to what it was now. “Hi, I’m Kate Adams of Marissa Adams Events,” she said, her voice trembling as she extended her hand. “My stepmother is Marissa Adams.”

    He remained in front of the door, studying her with guarded eyes. His sleeves, rolled to the elbows, exposed his strong forearms, and it took her a moment to pull her gaze away from the ripple of flesh. Perhaps he doesn’t recognize me with my hair down. She could only hope.

    Liked by 3 people

  6. Jin Okubo says:

    Reblogged this on Jin Okubo 大久保 仁 and commented:
    I find that writing in spurts when I have word goals gets me at about 1500 for my writing days

    Liked by 1 person

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