Hola Snippetteers!

Here’s another bit from SB, it picks up right where last week’s left off. We’re still in Ezra’s POV, so the “he” is Red. The usual caveat to squint while reading (and ignore the creative punctuation :)) applies.

He always wore nice button-down shirts, in videos or going to the Mini Mart in Drop—jewel-tone red, purple, black—that looked like silk.

“Where are you headed?”

“Nowhere, just out driving.”

Even in the dark I could see his brilliant smile; he probably paid good money for that whiteness. I couldn’t see his long black hair or whether he was clean shaven or had that short patch of beard he sometimes wore on his chin, but the smile did me in on its own.

“Where are you headed out here on foot in the middle of the night?” Red asked.

“Home.” A few steps closer won’t hurt. Maybe.

Thanks for reading, and for the “on sub” luck! *fingers still crossed*

Let me know what you think in the comments, and then head over to the Snippet Sunday group on Facebook for links to more snippets!

Hola Snippetteers!

Last week I promised a proper intro to my new story so here it is—along with another snippet.

My latest project that’s out on submission is an LGBTQ+ Romance featuring Ezra Cook, who was assigned female at birth and identifies as bisexual and genderqueer. Ezra is caregiver to older brother Tray, who’s living with early-onset Alzheimer’s, and they live in an unincorporated area outside the small town of Drop, Oregon. Drop is about halfway between Portland and the coast, near where i used to live, and is completely fictional. 🙂

The story, which i’ll call SB for now, is told in alternating first person POV. This snippet picks up right where we left off last week so we’re still riding along with Ezra, who was walking home in the dark and the rain when a car pulled off the road.

Red Richardson, also known as Ellred Long, the name he got the day he was born. Back from Los Angeles where he never really made it but came close enough to be a Big Man in this little backwash town of five hundred (give or take). What he was doing that far off the highway or any of the main roads, I had no clue.

“Hey,” he shouted. Even just hearing him shout you couldn’t help but know the man could sing. “Let me give you a lift. It’s starting to rain again.”

Slowly, to give myself time to figure out what was going on, I approached the passenger side of the car. I didn’t want to get in—that was trouble waiting to happen if I’d ever seen it—but I wasn’t looking forward to walking for another two hours either. I bent at the waist to look in the window, a safe four feet between me and the car; a blast of warm air hit my face and I tried not to look too hard at him.

Thanks for reading!

Let me know what you think in the comments, and then head over to the Snippet Sunday group on Facebook for links to more snippets!

photo credit- http://www.gratisography.com/

Hola Snippetteers!

I’ve missed you guys! Today i hit send on another novel, so i thought i’d share a bit and see what you-all think. And if the story gets a little “on sub” luck out of the deal, so much the better.

These are the first 10 sentences so i’ll hold off on an intro for now, but will warn you that this is an unedited snippet, best read while squinting. 🙂

It had been a while since the last time a moving vehicle hit me, but I wasn’t in the mood to take chances. The night was dark—no moon and only a smattering of stars peeking between the clouds, but at least the rain had stopped—and even though the county road I walked along was flat I’d just passed a blind turn. A blind turn the locals had been known to straighten now and then, especially when the weekend and low visibility coincided.

I ran toward the neighbor’s fence, their patched fence with a boulder guarding the apex of the turn, and hoped whoever sat behind the wheel didn’t mean to run me down. The way my luck was going that night, with the unexpected rain and Granddad’s truck quitting, it surprised me when the car stopped and I still stood upright.

The GTO, the 1964 stock GTO that I knew to be deep purple but looked black just then, rocked gently and then settled. It rocked again when he leaned across the seat to roll the window down. Even if he’d seen the truck he wouldn’t know who I was. He’d left town before we moved here, and only one thing about me is at all noteworthy anyway. Everyone knew the day he came back to town.

Thanks for reading!

Let me know what you think in the comments, and then head over to the Snippet Sunday group on Facebook for links to more snippets!