I promised you guys check-ins didn’t I?
Hehee, well considering that I almost forgot today’s post because I’m burning away at SORB, I’d imagine you can guess how I’m doing.
I never expected to be able to pump out words like this. And not all of them are crap either (just some :p).All those years I swore by pantsing and this year, with a plan at my back, an outline and a good, firm base of background research, I can put my fingers to the keys and type. I don’t have to stop. There’s no ‘Ugh, what now?’ or ‘Crap, how did I get here?’ It just flows and flows and it makes sense. And I know where I’m going. There’s no holes or bumps (insofar as you can say that about a ‘first’ draft). I love my characters. I love what they’re doing and I love knowing (to some degree) where I’m going to send them next.
Hell, if this is what planning a novel gives you over pantsing, I may never write that way again!
Never say never, Illy.
It’s going so well that I don’t really want to jinx it. But I do want to give you a sample. Not too much… first drafts aren’t really to be shared (says I) but this is one of my favourite scenes so far. A scene that didn’t even exist in previous incarnations of SORB!
From the corner of her eye she saw Ray glare at her, but she was too focused on her route to the door to care. She practically ran and heard rather than saw Tristen follow. Reaching the door, she pressed her forehead to the cool, double glazed glass for a moment.
“What’s happening to me?”
The hand on her shoulder made her yelp aloud. She spun around and found Tristen standing directly behind her, so close she could smell the mint on his breath.
“Are you okay?” He whispered.
“Yes. I mean I think so.” She tilted her head back, gazing into his eyes and all the shades of the forest they held. “Just stressed, I suppose.”
“I’m not surprised. You really did help me, today, I want you to know that.”
A warm, fuzzy tickle ran from her head to her toes. “Really?”
“Oh, yes.” He smiled. It was like watching the sun peep up from behind a cloud. “Really.” His voice dropped an octave and Ileandra felt the base rumble of it in the pit of her stomach.
She tried to back up but the door blocked her path.
“I didn’t come here just to show you those photos,” he whispered.
“No?” The squeaky answer didn’t even sound like Ileandra’s own voice. She licked her lips. Clenched her hands into tight fists. Tried again. “What do you mean?”
“I wanted to check on you.”
He smiled and those wrinkles appeared around the corners of his eyes again. “Yes. You’ve been through a lot, it’s enough to drive anyone to madness. I wanted to be sure you’re okay.”
“That’s sweet of you.”
“It’s my job.”
Every sensible part of Ileandra’s mind told her this was far beyond the call of duty, but somehow, she just couldn’t care.
She stared up into his face and inhaled the minty scent of his breath. She watches his lips part and the line of moisture between them break to showcase the pale tip of a pink tongue through the gap.
Wild thoughts of kissing raced through her mind and she tightened her fists.“That’s kind of you.”
At last, he backed away.
Perhaps not a moment too soon, because Ray chose that moment to stick his head into the doorway. “Everything okay out here?”
Tristen shook himself and glanced over his shoulder. “It’s fine, Mr Young. I was just telling Miss Young how to reach me if she remembers anything else.”
If his earlier actions hadn’t been clue enough the blatant lie cinched it. Ileandra gazed at Tristen and knew then that he was here for more than his job.
She grinned at the understanding that this man liked her and enjoyed the thrilling boost it gave her flagging ego.
Fussing with her hair and half pulling the dressing gown off her shoulders, she stepped to one side and opened the door.
“Thank you Detective,” she purred, enjoying the inner thrill as his gaze whipped back to hers. “I appreciate all your help today.”
He stared at her exposed shoulder. “Um… of course. Pleasure— I mean, it’s my pleasure. I’ll… go now.”
Before he could take a step, Nick thundered down the stairs with his shoulder bag slung over one arm. He hauled his coat off the rack on the wall. “You still here, Detective? I thought you’d be long gone.”
“I’m leaving now,” he said, scurrying through the door with his head bowed.
“See you, babe.” Nick went next, pausing long enough to plant a light kiss on her forehead. “Don’t forget to call the doctor, okay? Let me know if your dad is staying or if I need to leave the office.”
“Sure.” She whispered, cheeks burning with a completely different emotion.
He grinned. “Nice one. Bye Ray.”
“See you, Nick.” Ray waved until Nick slipped out of sight, then turned his gaze to his daughter. “Get some clothes on,” he said, “we need to talk.”
And that’s all you get. :p
Until next time!