In the event you missed my announcement: Emergence is now in the hands of my Betas. And, if you volunteered to Beta and didn’t get an e-mail from me, let me know. The more the merrier. Keep in mind, it came in at roughly 120k and if you haven’t read First of Her Kind you will probably be lost.
And another announcement: a while back I participated in Greylands, a project hosted by Krista Walsh. It is with extreme amounts of happy dancing that I get to tell everyone that the project has been compiled, edited, and is in the final phases of being published. For a more in depth idea of what Greylands was and is, you can read A Serial Reanimated as well as this post describing it. Basically, Krista invited us to play in her world and the result . . . well, I guess we’ll let the readers be the judges. Soon, very soon, I’ll get to share the blurb and the cover.
In the meantime, I’ve decided I’m going to be spending some quality time with Ethan and Rainie. I’m into Chapter 6 but need to pound out some plot issues and make sure I know where I’m heading. I’m also sharing chapters with my Crit Partners as I go along. It will be interesting to see what kind of feedback I get.
So, for 10/16/13 . . . sixteen short paragraphs from Chapter 5. This takes place early in the Ethan/Rainie relationship. If the scene from last week makes the final manuscript it would be far after this one. Suffice it to say, Rainie has found herself in a situation once again — mainly of her own making, you know, that headstrong, rushing in before your brain catches up, type of situation. Basically she was knocked out and this is the following morning.
Rainie groaned and peeled her eyes open. Thank god she’d remembered to close the blinds. The screaming state of her head wouldn’t have tolerated sunlight at the moment. She blinked through the dim light at the cracked ceiling, marveling that she’d never noticed the bits of plaster hanging from it like tiny stalactites. A ring of smoke drifted lazily up, deforming in an errant draft. What the —
A weight shifted on the bed beside her. Too much weight to be Sinbad. She rolled her head on the pillow.
Oh, hell no. No, no, no!
Rainie launched from the bed, snatching at the blanket that remained firmly wound around the half naked hunk. She lost her grip and her balance, and staggered back into the dresser. Not her dresser. Not her bed. Definitely not —
He grinned at her, his cheeks dimpling. “Mornin’, sunshine.”
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
He held up the cigarette in his hand. “Having a smoke. Want one?”
Rainie looked around the shabby, sparsely decorated room. “You live here?”
“If you want to call it that. Yeah. I would have taken you back to your place but I have no idea where that might be.”
The room tilted and Rainie thrust out a hand to keep from falling. He caught her by the arms before she ever saw him move.
“You should probably lay back down,” he said.
“No. I need to –” A cool draft against her legs drew Rainie’s gaze downward. “Where are my pants?”
More importantly, who removed them? Oh, and the t-shirt? Not yours either.
Rainie clenched her jaw. “Let go of me.”
The hunk shrugged. “If you insist.”
He backed a step which proved to be a bad idea for more than one reason. First, it gave Rainie a full view of his boxer wearing, lean, muscled body. Second, she immediately lost her balance and fell smack into his chest. A hard, sculpted chest. Putting her hands out to push away from him only resulted in her fingers finding equally luscious abs.