Perry tapped on his laptop in the back seat of the car as it rolled along on the deserted road. They were doing the bank heist in a different way than the robbers of the past. Once upon a time was the day when pistols ruled the west and robberies could be very bloody affairs. But this was the 21st century and convenience meant many things to many people.
In the front seat were the two guys considered the muscle of this crew. Freddy, the driver, kept checking the rear view mirror, first for any following cars and then intermittently at the computer genius still tapping on the laptop in the seat behind him. Freddy had mo love for the complex machines, thinking them some sort of current evil.
In the seat beside was the guy smart enough to know they needed technical help for this job. Ben was the one to recruit Perry. He turned less frequently to survey the young man’s work, but on this last turn saw a smile he knew meant good things.
“Yes?” Ben asked.
“You bet,” Perry said in his deep baritone voice. “Five point six mil split three ways!”
For the 2018 A to Z Challenge my topic is a new book about one of my recurring characters in the weekly flash fiction invitationals I frequent, a top flight detective named Sophie Marcus. Sophie is a single woman in her late thirties who is running from a demon.
For someone who is always matching wits with those who don’t even consider a set of rules to play within there has to be a safe place to get away when the strain gets to be too much. At this point in her career Sophie has settled on a scene from a place she dearly wants to visit in her future, Venice, Italy. Sophie has always felt drawn to places with a rich water culture and Venice certainly boasts that.
The thought of buying her own water taxi and lazily seeing every drop of water in and around Venice gives her the kind of peace that lowers a person’s blood pressure. She has even begun to study Italian so she won’t come off as a rank tourist when she gets her opportunity.
Here is an excerpt:
Sophie found herself transported to Venice more and more often. She was totally fine with that coping mechanism, especially if it precluded slipping toward a more destructive substitute. She’d learned long ago to use her mind to shield her heart and feelings from unwanted threats. The same scene of water taxis sliding through their watery streets filled her thoughts.
However, this time their was a nasty twist. On an approaching water taxi she saw . . . him! No, no that was not possible. She’d left him behind on the East Coast. Two thousand, eight hundred and ninety seven miles separated them. Four 9mm hollow points in center mass, it always was more than enough. But yet, here he was!
Sophie shook her head, barely conscious of the fact this had to be a dream gone wrong. She reached in her small bag for her side arm, but instead felt a cool liquid. She lifted the flap to see dark red blood all over her hand. Then she heard that eery, mocking laugh.
The next installment introduces you to Sophie’s Portland, P.D. partner.
AGAIN? IT IS TIME TO PLAN FOR NANO AGAIN?? ARGH!!! OKAY, I WILL DO IT! So it really isn’t all that much drama to get me to take this plunge. In truth I have changed my writing ways to plan 6-9 months out and Nano was squarely in my sights when I completed this year’s April A-Z Challenge.
I stumbled upon this idea last year when I used the A to Z Challenge to lay out the framework, let’s even call it an outline, of a historical fiction novel. I had full intentions of making it my third Nano effort, but summer came along and all the historical research I felt necessary to give it an authentic feel surrendered to mowing the grass, planting and picking the beans and the considerable stable of flowers we maintain and grow.
Fast forward to April of 2018 and one of the germs of an idea, actually a character and story I have been mentally developing, yes that is a process, got her treatment. The main character is a psychologically troubled master detective with so many issues it is a wonder she can function. This will be the subject of the 2018 NaNo try.
My last successful attempt was in 2016, when I took two characters I consider my franchise team and wrote over 70,000 words within the 30 day confines. While this novel is still in development, that many words in place put it very close to a marketable commodity. The next steps in finding an editor and agent are still something I have lots to learn about, but in NaNo there is so many reference resources made available as well as the chance to talk with experienced and published authors.
I like the feature on the NANO website where you can tie in with buddies and share the experience. Everyone needs encouragement and I enjoy giving it, so this option suits many needs. Why not share your experience where you could possibly build a lifelong writing friend? Yes, we are known as the Warriors of Solitude but only because there are so few of us around we don’t connect much. As in all endeavors however, sharing is a way to make it better. I know some of you visiting will be donning your NaNo gear, including the insane attitude needed to withstand the grins, so give me a yell and let’s get through it together.
Oh, I almost forgot this. If you would like to get a sneak peek at what I will write about you can take a look at the April 2018 A to Z Challenge posts about Chasing Red Silent. Just follow this link: Chasing Red Silent
Most people hate the rain, but when you grow up in one of the rainiest places on the planet you have a different perspective. From the Cropp River in New Zealand Oliver Greene emerged as a collector of bumper shoots. When he met Carina, his Sous Chef wife she was the one who suggested the ingenuous design.
Carina’s best friend Zoey asked about the idea one night as they walked into her restaurant.
“I call it a win-win. I made him see it was better than having them all sit idly by. Plus I have a new closet!”
Parker decided in the first seventy two seconds of meeting Annabelle she wasn’t right for him. She had grammar issues, wasn’t neat enough and walked funny, like she was pushing a wheel barrow. No, she was all wrong for him. There was the niggling though in his mind that his snake bit nature in relationships could be sabotaging something wonderful, but he was all too willing to dodge another potential heart break.
Annabelle only was here because her roommate Kelsey would not leave her alone until she dated a guy, any guy more than three times. Once she explained her predicament to this guy she expected he would take pity and help her fool her roommate into leaving her alone.
Parker hesitated, not wanting to play along, but Annabelle had perfected her pout and he felt defenseless in response.
“Okay, fine,” he said before hugging her.
Neither of them could recall later how long the embrace actually lasted, but the truth they did know was that it was something neither wanted to miss again.
No one enjoys a crowded beach, with folks on top of you as you seek the peace and solitude offered by the ocean gently pounding the sand. As he thought about it, Charlie Floyd decided he would make a difference in the world by creating some unique method to enjoy the beach experience. In her youth, his wife was not nearly as trusting or adventuresome as now. But Charlie’s inventions had proved not only safe, but popular. She’d been able to quit her job as a waitress two decades before and enjoyed a life of luxury.
However, she still had an aversion to water dating back to an incident while still a teen. It took quite a lot of encouragement from her beloved for Maggie to nod her head ot this idea, but finally she agreed.
Bobbing in the ocean water Maggie had to admit it was a great idea.
“Ahoy there!” they heard to their left. Charlie slowly turned to see an annoying man from the hotel where they stayed making his way toward them on a kayak. Ht guy was in the middle of a never ending story about an invention last night when Charlie faked a phone call for his escape.
“Ah, I found you! I wanted to finish telling you about my idea. Hey, great idea, that thing, no one should interrupt us out here!”
“Why would anyone submit to that?” Zoey whispered to her mom, careful to not utter the words loud enough that her father could hear. She’d never had the courage to ask him herself.
“I don’t understand it honey,” her mom said brushing a strand of her from her teen’s eyes. “What I do know is that this place,” she said gesturing to the small replica of the special academy her husband attended, “made your father who he is today.”
Around the corner their words were loud enough to generate a foreboding smile from a husband and father. Soon, very soon.
September 11th. The Day. Caroline wondered if she would ever be able to wipe the memory of watching days long television coverage of the day the world changed forever from her memories. So far thousands of dollars of professional counseling had barely ebbed away at the fringes.
She knew today, the 17th anniversary of that fateful day, was the one that the 93 foot monument to those 43 souls aboard the third plane targeting Washington, D.C. would be dedicated. At one time her therapist had her convinced she needed to attend, to honor the memory of her husband, one of the participants in the in-air rally that prevented an even larger count of loss.
But now she was fleeing another more ominous threat as the category 4 hurricane bore down on her new home in South Carolina. She felt like the storms of her life never ceased. She wiped the window to clear the condensation generated by the coming torrential rains. When would there be a break for her?
“What’s that infernal noise?” Mr. Harper roared from his comfortable recliner where he settled to watch his weekly football game.
“It’s the new neighbor,” his wife replied. “Says he is going to play that contraption in the parade next Saturday.”
“I thought he was working for the animal shelter snuffing out the cats!” Harper shouted. “Someone needs to stop him, I can’t hear my game!”
“I’ll talk to him,” she said, wiping her hand son the apron around her waist.
Sixteen steps later she rapped gently on the door of her upstairs neighbor. She had to increase the severity of her knock for a third time to overcome the ear-assaulting noise emanating from the apartment.
“Oh, Mrs. Harper!” Evan said. “Oh no, I’m so sorry!”
“It’s fine dear, Harry just is having an issue hearing his game.”
“Well, I am trying to get my cat’s head out of there,” Evan said.
“Oh my, how did that happen?”
“She was chasing a mouse and it ran into that pipe,” Evan answered.