Teaser Tuesday

Happy Teaser Tuesday everyone!

I've gotten a lot done last week up until now. It's cutting close to the day I have to go back to hell, I mean that place where knowledge is power and all that other good stuff ^_^

I started outlining for UTJS and I added another love interest, because I love love triangles. His name is Peregrine March and he's a clumsy wizard who drinks too much.

And then I have two new WIP(s) One is called The Tying of Two Nots and it's about Nick and Bailey, two compulsive darers who find themselves in each other's arms after a night of heavy drinking. Bailey ends up pregnant and now they're trying to find out what they should do.

The other one is untitled, but it's about this girl who wakes up from a coma only to discover that her mother and little sister were kidnapped. With her boyfriend Duncan they set out on trying to find out what happened to them, only to get caught up in a magical war between the Witches and the Dragons. I'm really excited about this one.

Okay, okay, enough about me. I hope everyone else got a lot done, and I hope you're excited about it.

Hopefully I'll have something from either two of those new SNI(s) to post next Tuesday, but until then, here's another snippet from Have Mercy.

I realized I needed to establish Alden's voice a little more in the beginning. Plus, as always he had a lot more to say. It's also a cameo for Colby because she just popped into the story. And I had to mention somewhere about the music teacher retiring because the new music teacher, well let's just say she's an important part of the plot too.

It was Monday. The sun was shining. The birds were chirping. And for once, I felt like going to school. Usually I just go to first period and leave after homeroom. But if I went to school today, I would have actually stayed the whole entire day.

My music teacher, Mr. Snyder was retiring. After forty five years of teaching, three of which he spent dealing with me, he was going on to a better place. Some retirement home in Florida. He was the only teacher I liked. I still gave him hell like the others, but I payed attention in class. When I needed advice about something, he was always there for me. I loved the man like a father. So of course I wanted to be there to see him off. But that bastard that lives in the same house and whose sperm helped bring me into this world, wanted to disrupt my learning, just to take me to go see a stuck-up doctor for no fucking reason. Go figure.

For the third time this morning, my phone rang. I put it on vibrate, but the low buzzing sound was getting on my nerves. I knew who was calling. I didn't feel like talking to her. Colby. My ex. The girl next door. She had so many titles, but girlfriend wasn't one of them. At least not anymore, so I didn't feel obligated to answer her call.

We broke up over a week ago. She texted me saying it was over. I said okay. I've been single for a two weeks now. It feels good. Maybe I should be thanking her, instead of ignoring her. I mean, if it weren't for her, I would still be somebody's boyfriend. I wouldn't get no action at parties and my reputation would be ruined. Plus, I wouldn't have gotten the number of this really hot girl I met at Skunk's party. She wrote it on my hand and I accidentally washed it off. I forgot her name, so I can't ask around for her. Oh well.

I picked up a shirt off the floor and pulled it on. Running my hand through my hair, I grabbed my jacket and walked out of my room. I couldn't close my door because my dad took it off the hinges. I guess he figured I wouldn't hold a gun to my head if I didn't have any privacy. There was always the bathroom, though.

He and his wife were in the kitchen when I walked downstairs. They were speaking in low tones, as if I gave a fuck about what they were talking about. After hugging and kissing, my father grabbed his car keys and we left the house.

Teaser Tuesday

Happy Teaser Tuesday everyone!

It feels like I haven't did one of these in a long long time. But my days are getting hectic. School is almost here, and I really don't want to go back. The only good thing about going back to school I think is the new clothes.

Unfortunately though, I caught a cold off of my little cousin and if it doesn't clear up, I might not be able to go back the first day. Lucky me, right?

Ooh and I'm going to the bookstore today! I'm so glad Blood Promise and Break came out today, so I won't have to make two trips.

I haven't writing as much as I want to. I'm still having the usual doubts. I don't know what genre I want to stick to writing. Then there's the fact that every time I think of something new, I see a book that is similar to the idea and then I have to scrap it.

I took a few Shadow notes yesterday. I decided that having four MC's wasn't the best idea. And I am thinking maybe I should try writing it in first person. As for Under the Jeweled Sky, I am trying to flesh out my characters to make them three-dimensional.

I have been doing a lot of research though. Since UTJS is based on a lot of mythology, I have to look up everything I can.

Have Mercy is one story that I'm still working out the kinks. I've been having a few doubts about it, seeing as though I don't really write contemporary. The plot has changed dramatically and I really don't know if it might work out, but I really like it.

Okay, enough of my rambling.

This snippet is from Have Mercy.

There were a lot of people I didn't feel like talking to today, and Colby Reynolds was one of those people. She was sitting on the porch, when we pulled into the drive. The engine died, letting out one loud noisy wheeze. As I got out of the car, her eyes locked with mine. Shit.

"Hey Colby," my father said. His voice was flat, but he flashed her a soft smile which she returned with her famous mega watt one. But I could see the glint in her sparkling blue eyes. She didn't make it her business to hide it from me either.

"Oh, hi, Mr. Summerville," she replied. "How are you today?"

Her voice was obnoxiously sweet. I wanted to puke. "Fine, fine."

"That's good," she replied.

My father nodded his head, and went in the house. The door banged shut behind him. We were alone. Me and Colby. She was staring at me. I was staring at her. Her cheeks turned red, her eyes caught on fire. She closed the distance between us.

Slap.

"What the hell was that for?" I asked, touching my cheek.

"Don't play dumb, Alden," she spat, "I heard about who you screwed at Richie's party."

"Your point?"

"The girl you were locking lips with was my cousin, Amber."

Amber. Amber. Right, that was her name. I was pretty drunk that night, at Richie's party, so I really didn't get her name and I kind of forgotten what she looked like.

"I'm still not seeing your point."

"She's freakin' fifteen! That's my fuckin' point! You better be glad I didn't tell my brother about this because he would have..."

I stopped listening to her. My thoughts were on other things. Fifteen. She was fifteen. I screwed a fifteen year old. Oh, shit. I looked up at Colby.

"Is she okay? I didn't get her pregnant or anything."

"No, thank God." There was a glimmer in her eyes. A strand of her blond hair fell in front of her eyes. "I just don't know why you didn't tell me."

I nodded, "Oh, I forgot. I have to tell you about every girl I have sex with. Well, let's see, there's..."

She rolled her eyes. "Alden, you're a jerk, you know that?"

"Look, I'm sorry. I'm just really having a fucked up day."

"What's wrong?"

There was so many things I could say to answer her question. I could tell her the truth. I could tell her part of the truth, or I could lie. I didn't want to do any of those things, so I just shrugged.

"Nothing," I replied, "and for what it's worth, I didn't know she was your cousin or that she was fifteen."

"That still doesn't make everything alright."

"What do you mean? I told you I didn't know she was...."

"It doesn't make it alright for you to go down on the first person you see the night after we break up."

"Well, you said you wanted to start seeing other people."

"I know," she said.

"Then why do you care?"

"I don't." Her lips tightened, and then she moved around me. "Look, I'll see you at school or something, alright?"

"Yeah, sure. Bye." She descended down the steps and across the lawn. I didn't wait to see if she went inside her house.

Beatrice was cleaning when I walked into the kitchen. Scrubbing, scrubbing, scrubbing. Down on her hand and knees, her sleeves pulled up. Cleaning. The counters were as white as snow. Squeaky clean, but she just kept scrubbing. Just like my father, she had weird quirks that only showed when she was angry or whatever. She didn't look up at me when I opened the refrigerator and pulled out a beer. She didn't look at me as I twisted the top off and took a swig. I wanted her to though. I wanted her to look at me like I was a demon from her own personal hell. I wanted her to have something to complain to my father about. But she just kept scrubbing.

"You missed a spot," I said. Beatrice muttered something under her breath, and then threw the sponge in the sink. As she passed by, she glanced at me, that look, that look that I wanted so very much to see, pasted on her face. I smirked. Sometimes I wondered if her and my father were truly made for each other.

She left the room without saying a single word.

Teaser Tuesday

Yay! It's another Teaser Tuesday and I can honestly say that I have been productive. So, for those of you who haven't been lurking around MDW and FNW, I am still working on Have Mercy. I have about 3, 415 words, which is good to me because I am not a fast writer.

It's scary writing contemporary, especially one that's so edgy. Have Mercy isn't going to be a light novel. Also it's not urban fantasy or paranormal or historical so this is kinda new for me.

I worked on this particular snippet yesterday so if you already read it, sorry.

"Alden," she said, "that's a nice name."

I wasn't completely rude. "Thanks."

"Who named you?" she asked.

"My..." I started, but then stopped midway. She almost had me.

"Yes?" she pushed, her eyes getting wider. She looked harmless, I noted, as I stole a quick glance at her. Her skin was a soft brown, her hair fell around her shoulders in tired brown curls. She even wore a tan pinstriped suit. Consistency. I liked that in a person. But those eyes, they were too bright, too intruding. I looked down at my hands, pulling absently at my fingers.

"Was it your father or your mother?"

"My mother is dead." Now, that slipped. It was what I said every time someone mentioned the word "mother" in a sentence. I didn't look at Dr. Rosenberg. I didn't want to see her get that look. The one everyone got when they hear about how you lost your mother at a young age. She died when I was eight. I was seventeen, almost eighteen years old now. You don't get over the death of a parent, ever, but I wasn't one to sulk about it every time someone brought it up. She was dead and there was nothing I could do about it.

I felt myself asking. "Why do you want to know who named me? It's not important."

"Well, we have to start somewhere." Her voice was flat, and I wondered what her face looked like.

"My father asked you how long this would take. I want to know. How long will I have to come here?" I fought the urge to look up at her, but apparently I wasn't strong enough. My head jerked up, and I met her green gaze.

"It depends."

"On what?"

"How fast you're willing to open up."

"I have nothing to open up about," I muttered.

"It would seem that way."

"There's nothing wrong with me. My father doesn't know anything about me. He just...."

"Yes?"

"Nothing."

In the corner of my eye, I saw her take something off of her desk. A clipboard. Pulling a pen out of her breast-pocket, she started to scribble something down. I wondered what she was writing. I mean, we didn't say anything too each other. She didn't know anything about me. They were probably lies, then. After placing the clipboard down on her lap, she looked back up at me.

"So, how is your relationship with your father?"

I rolled my eyes. She was starting the game now. I smirked, "How do you think it is?"

"Why don't you tell me?" she asked. "I want to know."

You're paid to know, I wanted to say but instead I leaned back in my chair. "Where's the couch?"

She laughed, "You watch a lot of television."

"No, I don't. You didn't answer my question."

"I don't have one."

"Well," I said, "it looks like you've answered your own question."

She smiled softly, and then looked down at her watch. A sigh of relief left my lips, as I started to stand. Her eyes flitted over to me. "Your session isn't over yet, Alden. You have twenty minutes left."

I plopped back down in the chair, the legs screeching across the floor. "There's no point for me to stay here. I mean, we're not even talking about anything."

"We can talk about something. What do you want to talk about?" she asked, her eyes colored with interest.

"I don't know. Maybe the weather or baseball or American Idol. I really don't care." Her pen was flying across that paper again.

"Baseball is nice," she said, "Do you like baseball?"

"No. It's boring."

"Do you play any sports?"

"Football," I breathed, "I play football."

She nodded her head, as if she were satisfied that I was answering her questions. There was a moment of silence.

"Do you like playing football?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Of course it does," she countered. "What do you like to do?"

I decided to humor her. "Get drunk, get high, go to parties. You know, the stuff jocks do."

This time, she didn't smile. Apparently she couldn't take a joke.

"Alden, I believe you're a smart young man."

I couldn't help laughing. "Flattery isn't going to get me to say jack."

"The point is, I don't think you're like every other jock."

"Think. That's the key word. You don't know anything about me."

"I know enough."

"Whatever," I scoffed.

She tilted her head to the side. "What does it feel like?"

My mouth went dry. My muscles tightened. I knew what she was asking, but I didn't want her to know that. "What does what feel like?"

"Alden, you know what I'm talking about."

"I don't." My eyes were burning now. My veins were freezing. I couldn't breathe.

"You were right, Alden. There's nothing wrong with you. Your father doesn't know anything about you."

I nodded. "I know there's nothing wrong with me, but he thinks I'm crazy."

"Why does he think you're crazy?"

"Because I don't do what he wants me to do. I'm not him. I'm not ever going to be him. I'm..."

She waited.

"I'm finished talking."

*

When we got home, I locked myself in the bathroom with a fresh packet of Newport's. I needed privacy and my room was off limits. My father took the door off the hinges a couple of days ago. I guess he figured that I wouldn't hold a gun to my head if people could see me do it.

I leaned my head back against the door, blowing out a ring of smoke. It smelled of good days and bad ones. It tasted of happiness and sorrow. As I inhaled and exhaled, I started to remember. The way she talked. The way she smiled. The way she made me feel. I was alive when she was here. And now that she's gone, I don't know what I am. I just don't know.

I took another drag.

My heart felt heavy. My vision was starting to blur. It was coming. I could feel it. Hot and heavy, like blood. They scorched their ways down my cheek and onto the cigarette.

"Why?" I cried. Why? Why? Why? I said it over and over again, but I didn't get an answer. I never got an answer. It was one simple word and no one could answer me. No one. Not even my father or God or me.

I just wanted an answer. That's all I wanted. But no one would give it to me.

And then I saw that gun.

And then everything made sense.

All I had to do was pull the trigger.

That's all I had to do.

But I didn't do it.

I didn't do it and now I'll never know the answer.

The tears came quicker now.

I cried myself to sleep on the bathroom floor.