Sadly, my Christian Fiction Friday blog hop I joined fell to the wayside. I have realized recently that blog hop hosting is rather time-consuming so I don’t fault the host at all.
Someday, I might pick it up myself, when I’m more established.
That said, I found another blog hop and it’s quite established.
WIPpet Wednesday is where authors post Works in Progress. Today, I’ll be posting from my 2nd book in the 3 book series I’m currently editing.
Right after #NaNoWriMo, I’m about to embark on the great FINAL EDITING ADVENTURE of my Book 1. Wish me luck, because after this I am washing my hands of this and sending it off, querying etc etc. Unless someone tells me there is something majorly horribly wrong with it (which I have actually had pretty fair and positive responses from both editors and beta readers) then I’m seriously done with this manuscript
(But really, are we ever done editing??)
Onward to my WIP for today. 18 Paragraphs for the 18th of November. This is from Chapter 1. Working title Waters of Peace. For those of you who are new to my blog, you can check out the synopsis to my first book here, called Second Chances.
WARNING: There is a tiny bit of domestic violence referenced at the end of this WIP.
Jessica cringed when she realized how late it was. How am I supposed to meet up with Chris now? Should I call or wait for him to call? Either way he would be furious, she was almost certain.
Sure enough, Chris called her within a minute.
“You’re late. Where are you?” he demanded the moment she answered. She held her hand over her ear to reduce the amount of traffic noise.
“I’m sorry—I was in a car accident,”
“What happened? What did you do?” She explained what had taken place and told him that she still had to call for a tow truck. After letting a string of curses regarding the other driver slip from his mouth, he said, “Have them tow it home. I’ll meet you there.”
After hanging up, she called a tow company, and then waited in silence; her body shaking. Gas and exhaust fumes spewed from the passing cars; tires screeched, horns honked, engines revved. Her head began to pound.
Once the tow truck arrived, she politely asked if she could ride with the older man as he towed her car home.
“No problem,’ he replied. “Hop in,”
Knots of frustration, anxiety and sadness coiled in her stomach as she rode home, on top of the aching headache. She’d just gotten her car back after it had been in the repair shop for several days. She’d been so elated to have it back. A gift from her parents given on her eighteenth birthday, her car was her baby—I’ll probably never see it again…I can’t afford another car…not working part time. Chris won’t put the money up for another car…what am I going to do now? How am I going to get to school and work?
Chris stood waiting in the driveway as the tow truck pulled up to the curb. As she got out and stood aside, Chris helped the tow truck driver back her mangled car into their driveway. Surveying the extensive damage to the front end of her car for a second time elicited more tears.
Once the driver unhooked the car from the chains, Chris paid him in cash, and he pulled away. Chris turned and approached her.
“Stop crying, it’s embarrassing,” he snapped. She quickly wiped away her tears and inhaled a deep breath to control her emotions. “How could you have let this happen?” He gestured toward the damaged car in the driveway. “How could—“
“I told you, someone pulled out in front of me,” she interrupted. His hand slapped her across her right cheek, sending a new wave of hot tears to her eyes. She squeezed them shut forcing the tears back, while she waited for the stinging to subside.
“Don’t interrupt me,” She nodded in understanding.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” she apologized quickly.
“We just got your car fixed—and now we have to deal with this.” I know, I know! She wanted to shout. I feel the same way…it was my car after all.
Waiting until he paused longer than ten seconds, she said, “The other guy pulled out in front of me. I think his insurance company will pay for the repairs.” Or total the car and cash it out, she thought sadly.
“They had better,” Chris muttered, folding his arms over his large chest. “Let’s go inside. I’m starving.”