Happy #8Sunday, y’all! If you haven’t dropped by on a Sunday in a while, you’re in for a treat. Each Sunday, Weekend Writing Warriors hosts a blog hop in which the participants share eight sentences of a work and they wait with bated breath for feedback. Be sure to drop by the #wewriwa site HERE for a complete list of participating writers and instructions on how you can participate if you’d like to.
I’ve been sharing from my current WIP the last few weeks, Residue, which is book three in my S3 series. Today, I thought I’d switch it up a bit and share a few sentences from book two, Recoil, as I just shared this one with a couple of friends for evaluation. It’s been in the soak tank since before Thanksgiving and I’m almost ready to being round one of self-edits on it. So, without further ado…meet Cord from Recoil.
Cord McAllister had welcomed into his life women of all shapes, sizes, colors, creeds, and religions over the years. He’d thought he’d seen and experienced everything there was to know and realize about the female species.
He could not have been more wrong.
Nothing and no-one could have prepared him for the force who was the one standing before him now covered from head to toe in what he could only assume was powdered sugar. Every square forty-five inches and every ounce of forty-seven pounds of tawny toned, black-haired Lucy Wayland was the only female in history with the capability to take Cord to his knees in less than sixty. He knew she was under that thin layer of sticky silt clinging to her somewhere. The question was, what would it take to find her?
Actually, if he were being honest, she wasn’t exactly the only female to ever take him to his knees.
I hope you enjoyed a first glimpse of Cord and his conundrum named Lucy. Don’t be a stranger! If you’re liking what you’re reading on Sunday, jump over to the sidebar and sign up to follow the blog through email alerts when new content is available.
Thanks for stopping by and have a great week, y’all!