Updating and Excerpting...
/
Hmmm. I visited my good East Coast friend from Romance Divas, Bria at her Blog today. When I recieved her reciprocating post here, I realized I hadn't posted in a few days and yuck what a bummer for her to have to read that BORING Goal post. Bleck.
So for the Pre-Thursday Thirteen, I'm going to give up an excerpt from my current WIP[work in progress]. I've mentioned the World War Two story I've got going in previous posts but I'll give a little synop anyway.
In case you don't feel like reading the entire bit of mediocre conglomeration of words, I'll tell you now. I'm looking for a comment from you. A Best line or Favorite monologue, a first line or last line...a last line written from your oldest unfinished manuscript[oh, that'll be fun, don't you think?]
Just so you know.
the working title is... LOST IN SPIES :D
The cheezy police really need to get crackin.
[am I stalling? Yes.]
I'm putting myself on the line here, People!
Darn I really hate losing the formatting...
Anyhoo.
Margaret[teacher/translator] runs to catch up with her hubby, Mark[pilot]. But he's already gone. She has made a decision to word within the war effort and holds some doubt and guilt at not "running it by" the old man. ;) it is 1941, summer.
~~~~~~~
“[newspaperman] Ed! How are you? I didn’t expect to see you down here.” Margaret stopped at the end of the long corridor that led to the captain’s office. Dim lights cast an artificial glow on the glossy yellow tiles that lined the floor and sent shadows over the gray cement walls. Wood framed pictures of former officers and soldiers hung in military presicion down the length of the wall. A quick glance told of loyalty and pride.
“Miss Pennington, how are you?” His soft-spoken words held genuine affection for her. He stood as if the world rested on his shoulders. His already slight build seemed to close in on him and there were dark circles under his eyes. They twinkled, though, beneath the bushy eyebrows and the dark, long eyelashes.
“It’s Mrs. Danbury now.”
He stood straighter and his grin widened. “Well, now. That’s wonderful. Congratulations.”
“Thank you.” Noise from planes flying overhead rumbled within the walls. The ceiling trembled. “My goodness,” she said. “They’re close, aren’t they?”
“They’ve been flying circles round this place for days. It’s good to have Mark back.”
She blushed, though she didn’t know why. “I’m actually looking for him. Do you know where I can find him?”
“Check with the Captain. He’ll be able to tell you.”
She tilted her head and studied his face. Knowing, that’s what is was, and weary. She didn’t press him for the information. “Thanks Ed. You take care, okay?”
“You too, Mrs. Danbury.”
An argument was reaching its peak as she reached the door to Captain whathisface’s office. She hesitated disturbing an obviously busy man right now. He had better things to do than look after one uncertain female.
Be careful, Love.
Mark’s words once again gave her the strength she needed. Pushing her shoulders back and holding her head high, she walked into the small brightly lit room.
“I don’t care how many engines need new fuel lines!”
Margaret halted, physically affected by the volume and intensity in the big man’s voice.
“Get it taken care of…NOW!” He slammed the phone down and shuffled through the papers on his desk, completely unaware of her presence.
She cleared her throat at the same time ran her hands down the sides of her skirt. They were damp with nervousness.
“What do you want?” he barked.
“I’m sorry. I—I’m looking for my husband.” Her voice trembled and he was staring at her before she’d said the word sorry. An itchy heat crawled up her neck and she wanted, with everything in her, to turn around and run.
…but then, he smiled and she was immediately reminded of her grandfather. His shock of white hair fell across his damp forehead and his blue eyes, at first cold and hard turned a warm gray. “My dear, you must be lost.”
“No. I don’t think so. I’m inquiring as to the whereabouts of my husband, Mark Danbury.”
A light went on in his face and gentleness graced his countenance. At the same time, she knew right away that Mark was gone.
“He left just after noon. He’s still in Great Britain but he’s unavailable for the time being.” His conciliatory expression wasn’t reassuring. “It’s regulation, Mrs. Danbury. I can’t have my men distracted in the line of duty.”
“Of course. I just… I wonder if you could get a message to him?”
Captain whatshisface nodded.
“A colleague contacted me this morning. I’m going to be helping out with the war effort. I’m going to be helping my students travel to the country where they will stay through the summer.”
“Very well, then.” He handed her a small pad of paper. “write your missive here. I’ll see he gets it.”
“Oh thank you!” Her stomach stopped churning and her heart slowed to a normal pace. “I just feel so badly that we didn’t get a chance to discuss this. I don’t want him to worry.”
He took the paper from her and folded it in half. It slid into his breast pocket and her eyes followed it. She hadn’t thought to leave even a small love note with her husband’s things when he left. Tears unexpectedly pooled behind her eyes. How silly. She’d been fine all day long. She wasn’t going to cry now!
“Thank you,” she whispered and turned to leave.
So for the Pre-Thursday Thirteen, I'm going to give up an excerpt from my current WIP[work in progress]. I've mentioned the World War Two story I've got going in previous posts but I'll give a little synop anyway.
In case you don't feel like reading the entire bit of mediocre conglomeration of words, I'll tell you now. I'm looking for a comment from you. A Best line or Favorite monologue, a first line or last line...a last line written from your oldest unfinished manuscript[oh, that'll be fun, don't you think?]
Just so you know.
the working title is... LOST IN SPIES :D
The cheezy police really need to get crackin.
[am I stalling? Yes.]
I'm putting myself on the line here, People!
Darn I really hate losing the formatting...
Anyhoo.
Margaret[teacher/translator] runs to catch up with her hubby, Mark[pilot]. But he's already gone. She has made a decision to word within the war effort and holds some doubt and guilt at not "running it by" the old man. ;) it is 1941, summer.
~~~~~~~
“[newspaperman] Ed! How are you? I didn’t expect to see you down here.” Margaret stopped at the end of the long corridor that led to the captain’s office. Dim lights cast an artificial glow on the glossy yellow tiles that lined the floor and sent shadows over the gray cement walls. Wood framed pictures of former officers and soldiers hung in military presicion down the length of the wall. A quick glance told of loyalty and pride.
“Miss Pennington, how are you?” His soft-spoken words held genuine affection for her. He stood as if the world rested on his shoulders. His already slight build seemed to close in on him and there were dark circles under his eyes. They twinkled, though, beneath the bushy eyebrows and the dark, long eyelashes.
“It’s Mrs. Danbury now.”
He stood straighter and his grin widened. “Well, now. That’s wonderful. Congratulations.”
“Thank you.” Noise from planes flying overhead rumbled within the walls. The ceiling trembled. “My goodness,” she said. “They’re close, aren’t they?”
“They’ve been flying circles round this place for days. It’s good to have Mark back.”
She blushed, though she didn’t know why. “I’m actually looking for him. Do you know where I can find him?”
“Check with the Captain. He’ll be able to tell you.”
She tilted her head and studied his face. Knowing, that’s what is was, and weary. She didn’t press him for the information. “Thanks Ed. You take care, okay?”
“You too, Mrs. Danbury.”
An argument was reaching its peak as she reached the door to Captain whathisface’s office. She hesitated disturbing an obviously busy man right now. He had better things to do than look after one uncertain female.
Be careful, Love.
Mark’s words once again gave her the strength she needed. Pushing her shoulders back and holding her head high, she walked into the small brightly lit room.
“I don’t care how many engines need new fuel lines!”
Margaret halted, physically affected by the volume and intensity in the big man’s voice.
“Get it taken care of…NOW!” He slammed the phone down and shuffled through the papers on his desk, completely unaware of her presence.
She cleared her throat at the same time ran her hands down the sides of her skirt. They were damp with nervousness.
“What do you want?” he barked.
“I’m sorry. I—I’m looking for my husband.” Her voice trembled and he was staring at her before she’d said the word sorry. An itchy heat crawled up her neck and she wanted, with everything in her, to turn around and run.
…but then, he smiled and she was immediately reminded of her grandfather. His shock of white hair fell across his damp forehead and his blue eyes, at first cold and hard turned a warm gray. “My dear, you must be lost.”
“No. I don’t think so. I’m inquiring as to the whereabouts of my husband, Mark Danbury.”
A light went on in his face and gentleness graced his countenance. At the same time, she knew right away that Mark was gone.
“He left just after noon. He’s still in Great Britain but he’s unavailable for the time being.” His conciliatory expression wasn’t reassuring. “It’s regulation, Mrs. Danbury. I can’t have my men distracted in the line of duty.”
“Of course. I just… I wonder if you could get a message to him?”
Captain whatshisface nodded.
“A colleague contacted me this morning. I’m going to be helping out with the war effort. I’m going to be helping my students travel to the country where they will stay through the summer.”
“Very well, then.” He handed her a small pad of paper. “write your missive here. I’ll see he gets it.”
“Oh thank you!” Her stomach stopped churning and her heart slowed to a normal pace. “I just feel so badly that we didn’t get a chance to discuss this. I don’t want him to worry.”
He took the paper from her and folded it in half. It slid into his breast pocket and her eyes followed it. She hadn’t thought to leave even a small love note with her husband’s things when he left. Tears unexpectedly pooled behind her eyes. How silly. She’d been fine all day long. She wasn’t going to cry now!
“Thank you,” she whispered and turned to leave.
