Temptation Thursday, that is. The first Thursday of each month on the Plotting Princess blog we are going to post five (5) lines from books, short stories, articles, etc. we are currently writing. Each month you will get a variety of different authors, genres and styles from various Plotting Princesses—both published and unpublished—and from time to time we might just throw in a few "guest" authors into the mix.
These teases might not be from the very beginning of the story; they could be from anywhere, any chapter. So you never know what you are going to get. Although we will try to keep it at least PG-13 (we have a few authors that write some really steamy stuff, after all).
So, jump right in and get a taste of a few of our Plotting Princesses' current writing projects. Enjoy!
THE LITTLE BIRDIE WHO DIDN'T GET AWAY—Vicki Batman
The instant I parked my Jeep in my townhome's driveway, a hard rap on the window scared the bejeezus outta me. Jerking my head aside, I found my neighbor--Ben, Ben Whitson--with a panic-stricken look on his face. A week ago, he'd introduced himself on move-in day with a gift bag filled with a newspaper, coffee, and pastries. Now, his large hand covered a piece of stiff paper.
Setting one hand on my strongly beating heart, I rolled down the window with the other. "What's up, Ben?"
COLLATERAL DAMAGE—Phyllis Middleton
I’m a bloody, cut up mess from the pavement burns and flying debris embedded in the length of my backside. The paramedic pulled a hunk of something from my shoulder and added it to the plastic pan already half-full of glass, wood and metal. I felt him tugging at skin, but it didn’t hurt because the shock numbness had control over me. I pulled back the gauze from my elbow to peek at the road burn underneath. Blood oozed quickly at the fresh supply of oxygen and I got a warning from the paramedic to leave it alone.
MURDER FOR THE HALIBUT—Liz Lipperman
Jordan swallowed hard when a wave of nausea pulsed through her. When it finally passed, she continued, “First of all, I’ll probably be hanging over this rail all day long. As for the other, you know how much I hate fancy food. What made me think I could pull off a gig judging a bunch of wannabe chefs when I probably can't even taste what they cook without gagging? They’ll laugh me right off the cruise ship.”
ONE KNIGHT ONLY – Michelle Miles
“Does this armor make my butt look big?”
“Very funny.” Elyne scowled, unfazed by Maggie’s humor.
“But…I’m too small and skinny to look like Finn,” Maggie complained, looking at her reflection in the polished steel. She couldn’t quite make out what she looked like other than a foggy blob. She wished she had a real mirror.
I'M NOT COLETTE--Linda Steinberg
Breaking away from her tour group, hurrying to meet her friend, Megan Adele Chandler rounded a corner inside the Musee d’Orsay and came face to face with herself.
She stopped short. The young woman in the nineteenth century painting wore a Victorian French felt hat bursting with flowers and lace that nearly obscured her forehead. But the midnight blue eyes staring out at Megan were unmistakably her own.
Her breath ebbed away.
The RELATIONSHIP COACH—Sylvia McDaniel
Relationship coaches are no more than glorified witch doctors making money off people’s emotions, Reed Hunter thought as he stood in the glitzy, hotel ballroom in Austin, Texas. He gazed at the throng of people--mostly women--eager to see the dating guru that had screwed up his convenient sexual arrangement.
Her Twelve Steps of Dating seminar had somehow convinced his girlfriend, Blair, that since he wasn’t promising her a ring, honeymoon and his last name, she needed to move on. And she had. Packed up, moved out and left with a so-long-sucker text message.
CURRENTLY UNTITLED WORK—Chris Keniston
Shooting the cheating, conniving sleazebag between the eyes wasn’t the best idea she’d ever had, after all, Texas is a death penalty state. On the other hand, a well-placed bullet in each ball could work, didn’t Lorena Bobbit get off Scot free?
Margaret Colleen O’Brien glanced at the clock on the dashboard. For the past two hours she’d conjured up the most satisfying ways to get even with William J. Cox, if that was even his real name. So far shooting his balls off was number one on her list.
DANGEROUS DECEPTIONS—Kathy Ivan
Scott couldn't take his eyes off the body at his feet. A pool of blood spread out in a halo of dark sticky red beneath the matted gray hair of Mrs. Abgail Spencer. For one brief moment, he gave thanks he hadn't had breakfast yet. Wouldn't do to be spewing chunks all over a possible murder scene.
He whirled around at Alyssa's sharp intake of breath right behind him.