In this scene, Allie is being chased through an open field by something massive. She doesn’t know what follows her. It catches up. She trips, falls to the ground and lies cloaked in the grass, waiting with her eyes closed.
I can hear it taking in my smell, savoring the scent of its spoils. A whimper escapes me. It’s breath is hot and oddly sweet-smelling, just short of my face. I open my mouth to scream and feel a rigid hand against my lips.
“Shh…” he whispers. “Don’t move.”
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In this scene, Allie Lynch drives up to the gate on Seavey’s Naval base, where she’s been assigned for the next four months. From her car, she spots sexy Colton Briggs, the military guard:
Elation doesn’t quite describe how I feel watching him ascend from the booth. It’s as if I am watching the sun rise again. While he stands half in and out of the doorway, I savor his athletic frame. Why couldn’t fatigues be made of spandex? With a flick of his wrist, he beckons me to the gate. My heart thrums erratically with excitement as if he’s beckoned me to a tryst.
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This week’s six comes from my debut novel, Halos: Somnium that will release on December 16, 2011.
In this scene, Allie’s nightmare returns.
The sunlight twists and morphs into the reflection of dark mirrored sunglasses belonging to a man with brown hair and a thick brown mustache to match. In the mirrors, the face of the blond girl stares back in sheer horror. My heart hammers frantically against my chest and suddenly I’m choking on each short breath. His voice, dauntingly smooth, taunts me from the nothingness that I’m desperate to escape to. “That’s it, darlin’, just relax.” Dread seeps into my bones.
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Okay, for those who have not seen this before, I’ve decided to give you some snippets each week. ONLY six sentences at a time! I’ll have you know…this isn’t easy. When I decided to sign up, my mind instantly boggled. Which six sentences do I choose? Ugh. Like my little sister in a shoe store. We could be here a while…but, I’ve picked my six for the week. So here we go!
In this scene, Allie arrives in Kittery and decides to pull off for gas at one of those strange, outdated stations. While paying inside (because the pumps don’t have one of those fancy convenience pay thingamajigs), she is greeted by two creepy locals. A missing persons poster plastered to the wall grabs her attention:
She looks to be about my age with sandy brown hair and brown eyes, radiantly smiling back at me. Her expression, so vibrant and happy, is haunting. How long has she been missing? My stare must be obvious when the clerk hands me my change with his grease-stained fingers, then glances back at the flyer himself. He turns back toward me; his turbulent eyes meet mine. “Watch yaself.”
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