What are you Writing? (Sunday Fiction Post-up: Vol. 32)

via pixabay

via pixabay

Time for the Sunday Fiction Post-up! Come share your current work-in-progress here. If it’s not one thing it’s another. I’ve been so busy – but busy is good! So here’s something from one of my archived WIP that I’ll hopefully pick up again. It’s a YA thriller with strong romantic elements, working title CREEPER.

I invite you to post your title, genre/sub-genre and about 100-150 words starting with the the first paragraph on page 15 or chapter 11. 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 sighed and turned the frame face down on the table. Everything around me reminded me of Josh. The gate key even hung on a key chain he’d bought me on our class trip. Annoyed, I snatched the ring off the hook and stomped to the back door. Before the day was over I was bound to throw a tantrum.

Denver barked. “What is it boy?” I asked, stopping with the door handle in my hand. He barked again. I was in no mood for his nagging. “I’m telling you, it’ll just depress you.”

Denver cocked his head to the side and whined. I swear he was worse than my mother—he knew when something was wrong and insisted I spill it before I was allowed to leave the room. I massaged my temple and then stared into those dark brown eyes that belonged more to a human than my canine companion.

“It wasn’t me,” I said. Denver’s unblinking gaze implored me to continue. “I don’t know how it happened. One minute I was having lunch with Candace planning our shopping trip for prom dresses, and the next I had broken up with Josh and was ready to tear him apart.”

Have a great Sunday! And Write on!

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4 Responses to What are you Writing? (Sunday Fiction Post-up: Vol. 32)

  1. Awww, I love dogs. Denver reminds me of a dog I used to have.

    Sorry I’ve been away for a while, I’ve been really busy. Anyway, I’ve started a new project. This isa cyberpunk novel that is yet unnamed.

    Edward, the boss of the Denver Cartel, was a gangly man all knees and elbows, standing before a window looking out onto the Rocky Mountains. He wore a shirt and tie, freshly pressed and flawless, and khakis. He looked like he had stepped out of a picture from fifty years ago, one of the candid cellphone captures of the early 2K’s.

    “Cat,” he said. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. Rico tells me your service is invaluable.”

    Cat remembered that his hands, the long, spiderleg fingers, had crushed the windpipe of one of her fellow thugs just a few days ago.

    “Thank you,” she said, with a deferential nod. “I try my best.”

    “Let’s see…let’s see…” he grinned, eerie as a skull, walking towards her. “You got any tech besides this little beauty?” He brushed a finger at the very edge of the metal implant on her throat. “You know I invented those?”

    “They’re pretty useful, sir,” she said. “I don’t have any other tech, no.” The narco squad didn’t augment her in any way that could be detected by the naked eye, or a simple body scan.

    Liked by 1 person

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