My NaNo Novel for 2014!

I had actually decided not to write for the NaNoWriMo challenge this year, but after a “friend” bugged me to do it, I did. I already had a story in mind, but had not determined what I wanted to do with it. So, a couple of weeks before the first of November, I developed my characters, my story map, and my fictional city–complete with a grid of the streets and location of all major buildings. I completed my research and typed up my notes, and on November 1, 2014, at 4:30 a.m. I started writing. By November 9, 2014 at approximately, 2:00 p.m. I had finished the first 50K! Now, near the near, I am revising (2nd round) and my word count is over 72K. Since i plan to publish the “finished” work (after 3 more rounds of revising and editing), it will be available on Amazon as an eBook, hopefully before the end of January.

At any rate, here’s what the cover looks like–right now.

rev nano2 There’s an excerpt on the NaNoWriMo site and I’ll probably post it again, soon! Some ideas are worth pursuing! This one certainly was!

Excerpt–Mightier Than The Sword–Novel-in-progress

Samson wanted to leave with Melandro, but Tiffany and Tyson quickly closed down the club and everyone had to stay put, including Samson. Tyson called for police reinforcements and Tiffany called in the Sheriff’s office. This was way too much for them to deal with. Traffic was blocked from entering the parking lot of Club Jazzy and for a three-block perimeter. Behind the club was the river so they weren’t concerned about anyone leaving in that direction.

“Tyson, make sure all of guests are comfortable and have the police collect every glass at every table and bag them. Battle, call the hospital and make sure everyone is x-rayed for needle pricks and their stomachs pumped. Swatere, check the bathrooms and collect all the garbage cans. Whoever is responsible for this, is not getting away again!” Tiffany thundered orders.

Pretty soon the place was packed with uniformed officers, interviewing guests and taking notes. All of the stemware bagged and all the eating utensils and food put aside.

Samson and the other owners were dumbfounded. They couldn’t believe this was happening on their opening night. Immediately, technicians were brought in to rule out food poisoning for which the chef was eternally grateful for them saying, the food was not tainted in any way.

When the stemware was bagged and tagged, another agent from the FBI took them directly to the lab where Katie was standing by.

When Tiffany asked Samson what Melandro had been drinking, she immediately became suspicious.

“I only saw her drink club soda. Then after we announced our engagement, she had a sip of the champagne. Ask the bar-tender if she had anything else.”

When Tiffany asked the bar-tender if Melandro had anything to drink, he just shook his head. “She came back here once, to fix what she was going to call a Jazzy special. I don’t know what she put in it and she washed the shaker as soon as she made it.”

“That figures,” Tiffany muttered. “What about the glass she used for the champagne toast, has that been cleaned as well?”

“No, in fact she never finished the drink so it’s on the counter—right where she was sitting before she collapsed.”

“Battle, get that technician over here to check the contents of this glass.”

The technician had brought specially formulated strips to test for poisons and he immediately put it in the glass. It turned blue—indication of a toxic substance.

“Okay, get that to the lab and I want results tonight, not tomorrow!” she barked.

Samson sat at the bar with his head in his hand, not knowing what was going on. “Samson, do you have a pen I could use? I don’t have one in this tiny little purse,” Tiffany explained.

“Yeah, sure. Let me get you one of the marketing ones from the office.”

“Franklin,” she called to a uniformed officer, “Please escort Samson to his office and bring him back here pronto.

Walking back to his office with his police escort, Samson’s heart sank. This was supposed to be a night to remember, but not because of three people being rushed to a hospital, but because he had decided to commit to one woman. When he unlocked the door, he sighed and went quickly to his desk and opened the drawer. Stunned, he picked up the syringe and the vial, wondering how they got there. Since Franklin was standing right behind him and saw the syringe and vial, Samson plopped into the chair, not saying a word.

“Agent Harangue,” he radioed. “You need to see this. I’m in the office near the back of the building. Don’t make a move,” he ordered, pulling his service revolver out and keeping it aimed at Samson.

“I’ll be right there,” she said, motioning for Tyson to follow her.

“I don’t know what this is or how it got here,” Samson stammered.

“Don’t say anything else until Agent Harangue gets back here,” Franklin ordered, stepping back from Samson, watching every move.

Tiffany and Tyson burst through the door.

“What is it?” Tiffany asked.

Franklin motioned with his gun at Samson. “Get up slowly and move away from the desk.” Turning to Tiffany, he said,

“There’s a syringe and a vial in the drawer. Samson here says he doesn’t know how they got there.”

Fortunately, Tiffany had brought a pair of latex gloves to the back with her and an evidence bag. She put on the gloves and gingerly picked up the syringe and vial, putting them into the evidence bag.

“Tyson, take these to one of the technicians and have it analyzed right away. If this is what I think it is, we’ve finally solved these murders and hopefully, those who are at the hospital will survive.”

“Franklin, read Samson his rights and take him in for questioning. He’s to be held until we get back from the hospital and no one, I mean no one is get back here. As soon as everyone has been interviewed and we have contact information, turn them loose and tape the place off.

Samson was read his rights, handcuffed and led out of the club, totally mortified by what had just happened.

Revised and Made Over When Money Talks

cvr2https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/373509

Excerpt–When Money Talks 2

Mara stayed just long enough to inquire if there was anything she could help others with and being told no, prepared to leave.  As she walked through the lobby, going towards the door, Eric came from Bonnie’s office and they both waited for the security guard to unlock the door so they could leave.

“So, how did the first day go?” Eric asked.

“It went well,” Mara responded, no more cordial than she was earlier and not really looking at him.  She was fidgety, impatiently waiting for the security guard.

Eric took a really good look at her, appraising her from head to toe.  He noted how sophisticated she looked in the navy blue suit she wore, with a red silk blouse and matching red heels.  He wondered why she was so impatient and then it occurred to him, she might have someone waiting for her at home.  Even that thought didn’t deter him from thinking about how much he appreciated her exquisite good looks.

“I’m glad.  I hope every day goes well for you.  I understand you’re from Atlanta.  Why did you decide to move to Houston?”

“I needed a change,” Mara replied, exasperated with the question.  “Is that good enough for you?”

“Whoa!  I didn’t mean to offend you,” Eric apologized. “I was just trying to hold polite conversation while we wait.”

At that moment, the security guard returned from wherever he had been and unlocked the door.  As they walked out into the early evening heat onto a bustling sidewalk of people, Eric turned to tell her good-bye, but she was walking in the opposite direction. For a second or two, he started to let her go without any further attempt to say anything to her, but then decided he wanted to know what was eating at her, so he followed her around the corner of the building.

“Mara,” Eric called after her, “Could you wait just a moment?”

Mara stopped and turned around, really irritated now.  She couldn’t imagine what he could have to say to her and she certainly didn’t have anything to say to him.  While she was pondering what he could want, he caught up with her.

“Mara, have I offended you by anything I said?” Eric asked as he stopped and stood in front of her.

“Not really,” she replied. “I just don’t like people asking me questions that are none of their business.”

“I wasn’t trying to be nosy, just friendly.  That’s the way Texans are.  We are very friendly people, you know,” he said smiling, sensing how uncomfortable she was and wanting to make her feel at ease with him.

Mara stood and stared at the man in front of her.  Eric had a stocky, muscular build, was over six feet tall, and wore his dark wavy hair cut short.  His smile revealed slightly imperfect white teeth and changed his demeanor from somber to playful.  Listening to him make an appeal about Texans being friendly made her smile.  She visibly relaxed, at least for a moment.

“Eric, I’m sorry.  I don’t mean to be rude.  It’s just that moving here, finding a job, and being alone without friends or family has made me a little tense.  I didn’t mean to take it out on you,” she apologized.

There was a lost sheep air about her that tugged at Eric’s heart.  As she stood there looking up at him, waiting for him to accept her apology, he saw a wealth of wisdom that did not belong in the eyes of one so young—a wisdom that could only come from the experience of tragedy.  He noticed her long mahogany hair framing her exquisitely shaped face—somewhere between being an oval and pear-shaped, her wide-set oval eyes and pert little nose.  Her full lips were now almost turned down in the cutest frown he had ever seen.  He wanted to get to know her.

“Let’s start all over again.  Hi, my name is Eric Harrison and I’m very pleased to meet you Miss…,” he said holding out his hand waiting for her to fill in the missing name.

“Mara Mooring,” she responded holding out her own hand and smiling at him.  I’m pleased to meet you.”

“Well, since we are so pleased to meet one another, would I seem forward if I offered to buy you a cup of coffee?” he asked, grinning now at their little game.

 

Available soon as an ebook on amazon.com.  You’re going to love it–a bit of a departure from what I normally write–it is hot and steamy.  Watch for it within the next 72 hours.