My writing journey started with fiction at an early age, though I’ve been really awful about a.) finishing and b.) publishing the stuff.
However, I’ve made a promise to myself that I WILL FINISH A DRAFT OF THE SPECULATIVE FICTION BOOK I’ve been working on by the end of this year. So… more to come on that.
For now, here’s an excerpt:
We’re at Bretta’s apartment in another five minutes, clomping up the concrete stairs to the ninth floor. I dial her number again as Dom pounds on her door. Neither elicits a response.
His eyes meet mine, flicker away. He rubs the side of his neck self-consciously. “Uh. Don’t watch.” He pulls a multitool from an inner pocket of his jacket and applies the thinnest blade to the lock.
I of course watch, fascinated. “Since when do you — ”
The door creaks open, and I fall silent, though my heart thuds with the force of Kyla’s subwoofer. The inside of her apartment is dark.
Cappuccinos at the dated granite-topped island. The kitten, rolling on the floor. I’m really here this time, and yet I’m not. I think of the kind, liquid-eyed detective. Do you know where you are?
Hands around her throat —
Half-blind, I press the toe of one hiking boot onto the plush platinum carpet, then the other. I’m dripping dirty rainwater everywhere, but I don’t care. I glance back at Dom, whose hand hovers over the lightswitch — but he doesn’t turn it on. I understand why.
Both of us can feel it.
* Current wordcount (as of March 25, 2017): 30,478 *
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