I'm so close to the end of this book, I wish I could just stay in my room and plug away. Oh, well. Time enough for that when I show my family this really is a job and one I want to fully pursue! If they have concrete evidence this writing pays off, they'll back off and help out more.
Celia requested that I include an excerpt from my book. How about I start with the prologue. I think it's a good hook
---Shouts from the next room made eight-year-old Billy Anders look up from buttoning his too-small shirt. A loud thud against the wall sent him running out the door of his bedroom and down the narrow hall of the trailer. The loose tails of his shirt slapped his back.
He turned the corner into the small living room. His mother, Claudia, stood in the middle of the room, cigarette smoke streaming through her nostrils. Her yellow hair stuck up all over.
His eyes darted around the room, searching, until he looked at the farthest wall. There was little Penny Jean, huddled on the floor. Dirt-smeared streaks on the wall above her told more of the story. He rushed over and knelt beside her. "It’s going to be all right,” he whispered as he brushed away her tears. “Let’s go back to my room.” Soft strawberry-blond hair tickled his cheek. He kept his voice soft as he helped the trembling little girl stand though he was boiling with rage inside.
“Go ahead and help her,” his mother snarled. “Just keep her out of my sight.”
Billy watched as Claudia turned her back on them and stalked off to the kitchen. She grabbed a bottle of beer out of the icebox and lit a cigarette. With a light nudge, he guided Penny Jean down the narrow hall toward his bedroom. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his mother settle on the shabby couch and pop off the cap of the bottle with her thumb.
Tamping down the anger he felt toward his mother and returning his attention to the little girl beside him, Billy whispered, “Don’t worry, little PJ. I’ll keep you safe."---
No comments:
Post a Comment