Fast Draft Day 004

I barely made it D&E this morning after staying up too late last night watching DVR’d Survivor and America’s Next Top Model.  I actually got up okay (the lure of a programmed pot and fresh hot coffee waiting for me!) but my focus was fuzzy.  I struggled to get a couple of hundred words, and then my mind needed a break.  Still, I made decent progress – though not stunning.

Last night’s words: 770

This morning’s words: 1,144

Total:  8,479

My goal for today is to eventually break 10K.

This is the last longer snippet I’ll share, though I’ll try to do a line or two each day.  This is the first scene with hero and heroine on page together, setting the tone for the erotic components of the story.  What do you think – are they going to burn up the page?

His hands clamped on my upper arms, hauling me up out of the water to him.  The dream again.  I fought to wake up.  I didn’t want to be here.  I didn’t want him to—

I flailed and managed to land a glancing blow to his head, but he chuckled deep in his chest, more like an animal’s purring that any sound a human would make.

“I’m happy to see you too, Cassie.”

I jerked and twisted against his grip with all my strength, but he didn’t slacken his hold.  He didn’t even try to restrain or evade my blows.  Each time he pulled me through the dream, I fought.  I tried to fly free of him, but I couldn’t escape.  We both knew it, and the ease in which he held me to his chest only infuriated me more.  I dug my nails into his shoulders like claws, ripping my way down his meaty biceps. 

His breath hissed out, his eyes slitting dangerously, but he didn’t try to stop me.

“Don’t call me that.  I hate it.  It makes me sound like a little girl.”

The growing darkness in his eyes eased a bit.  “Your mother used to call you that.”

I shuddered, instinctively ducking my head and curling my body tighter into a ball.  “Get out of my mind!”

His lips brushed my temple.  “Forgive me, lady, but that is impossible.”

Tenderness from a massive warrior who could crush me with his smallest finger.  That easily, he made me melt against him.  He had to have felt the tension leaking out of my body, but he didn’t make any move to further his advantage.

Disgusted at myself for letting him win so quickly, I turned to questions.  Analytics and reason.  Not insanity.  Because I had to be insane to think any of this was real.

“Tell me your name.”

Amusement lightened his voice to the warning rumble of an approaching storm.  “You heard a rousing tale about me this afternoon when you toured your grandmother’s property.”

I shook my head, but that only made my lips brush his chest…and the rougher scar tissue over his heart.  Supposedly where Alvarado’s spear had pierced his chest and killed him.  “If you’re really Tecun Uman, the Guatemalan national hero, then how can we understand each other?  He died in 1524!”

“Magic.”

Of course.  I forced out a derisive snort.  “I don’t believe in magic.”

“Besides, I’m not really Tecun.  Or rather, he was not the man people thought him to be.  He was more.  He was legend.”

“So you’re legend?”

“Yes.”

“Then you’re not real.”

He didn’t answer.  His heart beat strongly beneath my cheek.  He stroked my back, his palms so big and broad I could imagine him ripping his enemies’ heads off with his bare hands.  I didn’t want the magic of his hands.  I didn’t want to succumb yet again to his seductive dreams that left me sweaty and needy.

In desperation, I threw out more questions.  “Who are you?  Really?  If you’re not him…”

“I am him, but more.  You won’t believe the truth.”

I pulled back so I could see his solemn dark eyes.  He traced my face as though he was carving my image into his memory forever.  “Try me.”

He arched a brow, his lips quirking.  He lowered his head toward mine but I shoved him in the chest.  “No!”

He didn’t have to stop—a gnat would have as much impact upon his strength—but he paused immediately at my request.  I’d learned very quickly in these dreams that he would always take my refusal seriously, despite the darker edge to his sensuality.  He’d enjoyed my initial struggle too much to hide his erection digging into me.  I’d fought him, even bloodied his arms, but I hadn’t told him no.

“You know what I meant.  Tell me the truth.  I’ve learned things since the first…”  Swallowing hard, I averted my gaze.  The first dream.  The first time I died in his arms, and he brought me back to life.

“Some people know me as Kukulkan.”  When that name didn’t garner my response, he added, “Great Feathered Serpent.  Quetzalcoatl to the people of Teotihuacan.  Tlahuizcalpantechultli, Lord of the Star of the Dawn, but only when my wrath had poured out upon my enemies.”

I made myself look back into his face.  Chiseled, proud, strong, larger than life, yes, but very much human.  “So you want me to believe you’re a god?”

“Some have thought me to be a god because they didn’t understand how my kind could come and go through the gates between our worlds.  For a thousand years, I often walked your earth as a man, until I died as Tecun Uman K’iqab, Black Butterfly Grandson of K’iqab.  I haven’t been able to pass through the gate since.  They’re locked until the Return at the end of the age.”

Now I could roll my eyes and laugh, because I really didn’t buy any of his crap.  “December 21, 2012, yeah, I’ve heard all about it.  The Maya predicted the end of the world thousands of years ago.  Sure.”

“No,” he replied in that calm, solemn way of his that carried so much silent weight and strength that I could almost believe he was a god.  “Not the end of your world.  The time of our Return to your world.  A new age will begin.”

“With Mayan gods walking around again.”

He nodded, letting some of his humor return in the sensual curve of his mouth and the teasing tone to his voice.  “Some thought us to be gods.  Especially when they were taken to be our lovers.”

Taken.  My stomach muscles fluttered, both with fear and an arousal I couldn’t deny.  Another woman might have thought he’d used those words lightly.  I took my date to dinner.  I took—chose—a new lover.

In these nightly visitations, he’d already hinted that he’d take me every way possible, preferably with me kicking and screaming all the way.