In which I fall behind…
I only got 800+ words election night. Last night was even worse. I still have hope for tonight, but man, it’s slow going. The words just don’t have any life. I know the plot, the characters, everything, but there’s just no energy and vibrancy to the words.
I just have to keep going. Keep pushing. The magic is there. I just have to find it.
On the bright side, I’m off tomorrow and Monday. Hopefully I can make up some lost ground. Total (before tonight’s work): 10,996 words
Snippet (still not NaNoWriMo material):
Bloody hell. She’s brought us to a sex shop.
Sig gritted his teeth, sure his face had exploded in fire. He shot a subtle look at the other man to see his reaction.
Studying the chains and clamps, Masters whispered, “I guess my handcuffs aren’t enough for her any longer.”
A surge of fury and shame swept through Sig so viciously he trembled. “Enough for me, you mean. Is that what this is about?”
Masters arched a brow at him. “I have no idea what the lady’s about. You know her better than I.”
Do I? Shaken, Sig slipped closer to her so he could overhear her quiet words to the young woman running the back counter. He tried to be invisible, making himself small and thin and dark, barely even breathing. But the young woman’s eyes flickered his way and she gave him a small, knowing smile.
“Very good,” Charlie said. “May I try a few to make sure I select the correct grip?”
“Of course.” The shopkeeper pulled down several short-handled crops and flails. “These look to be the best length for your arm and height. This one,” she pointed to a flail with thin tails of cloth, “delivers the softest blow. This one uses beads and leather to deliver more pain without the same cutting strike. Which do you think will suit your needs best?”
Charlie chuckled softly. “I don’t honestly know. I’m afraid I’m a novice at all this. However…” She trailed her fingers over the braided detail of the leather flail. White cording made an intricate webbing about the black leather. “I find this design the most interesting. What do you think, Sig?”
“I despise it.” His lips felt so tight that he could barely speak. “Why would you even think I’d like such a thing?”
She tilted her head, her eyes wide with mock surprise that made him quiver with rage. “Why on earth would you assume it’s for you?”
I think if I got 200 words on election night, I was lucky…
And I hope you find the magic soon. I love the snippets!