Sunday, July 26, 2009

Writing Again

I wrote THE END on one book, and now have to get started on my other WIP that was interrupted by Angel at Dusk. How do I go back to writing the suspense when I just finished with paranormal?

I sat down in my little hole in the back room, lights off, TV muted (for the purpose of ambient light and a distraction for my youngin as he fell asleep), my glass of wine and keg of water, and my mini to type. I read over the first 36 pages I had written to catch up on where I had left off, and started brainstorming on how to move forward.

“Let’s recap what exactly did happen,” she said as she eased up from the couch. She was standing rigid in front of him with fire in her eyes. “I was on my way to walk down the aisle to a man that loved and cherished me. A man who did not second-guess his feelings for me.” She started pacing, “I recall being stopped at the foot of the church steps by you professing your undying love for me after you had all but walked out of my life the year before stating you could not be with someone like me.”

Connor started to fidget at her version of what happened. She continued.
“Then out of nowhere this crazy son of a bitch comes at us with a gun, shoots at you as I’m being tossed into a truck! On my wedding day! Why exactly was I kidnapped? Oh let’s see, someone had the hair brained idea that they could get what they wanted from you by hurting what they thought was important to you. Ha!” She became louder as the story continued. “Little did they know you were a coward who didn’t know what love meant and couldn’t fathom what my soon-to-be husband, who did love me, was going through!”
“Mel,” he tried to interrupt.

“Oh, no,” she snapped as she stopped pacing to face him, “let me finish. I wouldn't want to bury these feelings again.” She continued pacing, “so here I am, trying to keep the horrible visions of my death from clouding my current predicament. The bastards knock me around a few times until I pretend to be unconscious, and as I’m lying there with the heel of a boot on my throat, I hear them discussing the next step in their plot for revenge.” In her ranting she never considered that her son and his friends might hear what was going on. Again Connor tried to interrupt, “Mel, please just…”

“Let me finish,” she said through gritted teeth. “They put me in a wooden box, dropped me into that dam mine and I was left for dead.” She was trembling. “I know why they wanted to come after you. I know whom they were working for. You lied to them to do what you thought was right and I was hurt because of it. I had told you before what was going to happen and you ran from me. All you cared about was your precious story, and you ended up dragging me into it anyway.” “Mel,” he stood up this time and grabbed her to make her stand still. “I’m sorry.”

And that's as far as I got...*sigh*

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