The Story

Like rumbling storm in the distance, the voices are starting to gather force, breaking through this lethargy that has encased my brain these last few months. Yes, the story is beginning to speak to me, conversations drifting through my mind, situations flashing before me; I’m finding myself beginning to drift into day dreams full of suspense, heroes, heroines, side-kicks, love, drama, a little comedy. Yes, a little. This isn’t Operation Eden, but rather an old love titled The Devil You Know, a romantic suspense that it almost 70% finished anyway. That is, if it weren’t for the fact that I’ve started re-writing it. But it doesn’t matter, it’s calling to me anyway and I’m going to answer it. Wish me luck.

For you writers: Do you have an old story that you’ve gone back to and finished; or are thinking about going back to pick up again?

Readers: Is there a story that you began to read only to not like it, but then for some reason picked it up years later and loved it?

The winner of the copy of Smart and Sexy is Jennifer Y. Email me with your address and I'll get this out soon. Congratulations!

Oh, and just for the heck of it, here's a very, very raw excerpt from the prologue. Travis Montgomery has come across a car on fire, a car that belongs to his partner Everett Rush, a man that may be a traitor. And it's real raw here - unedited.

As flames began to lick at his face Travis reached for his hat to beat them back down. The man moaned as screams erupted from the back seat. Travis, torn between the two men, tossed the hat aside, and concentrated his efforts on the deadweight at his fingertips. The black smoke blocked his view of the man’s face, but Travis could see spots of orange and yellow peeking out from behind the thick clouds. His lungs burned from the lack of oxygen, spasms of coughing causing him to loosen his hold and back out of the car for a few cleansing breaths. Tears ran down his face from smoke stung eyes as he darted back into the front seat. With adrenaline pumping, he managed to pull the unconscious form half way across the car, and then had to back off anew as flames flicked across him.
“Dammit to hell” he screamed in frustration and then quickly dived back in again. This time he was able to get both hands around the burning form and, with one giant lurch, pulled the figure out of the car. Dragging his load over to the roadside, Travis rolled the man over, hands beating the fire which continued to burn the victim’s clothes. Sirens rang out from the distance as onlookers gathered. Checking the still smoldering man, Travis was relieved to feel a pulse. Standing up, he turned back towards the car and the other trapped man. Just then, the flames reached the gas tank and the vehicle rocked on its chassis. The fire had won.

Travis stood in the cold drafty alley and rang the buzzer above the intercom again.
“Hello,” came the breathless reply.
“Maddie? It’s Travis.” He pulled the jacket’s collar up around his ears.
“McNeil? What ... come on up.” A clicking sound unlocked the door and Travis stepped into the small foyer. Before him was the stairs to her loft, to his left the door to her store. I don’t want to be here. Letting out a slow breath, he climbed the stairs, pausing at her open door.
“Hey Trav, nice surprise.”
She looked beautiful standing there, her hair all tousled from sleep, the red robe tied snugly around her slim waist. He really hated what he had to do, but knew it would come easier from him.
“Mad, I’m sorry, it’s about Everett.”
Madison’s face paled and she clutched at the lapel of her robe, gathering it against her throat. “He’s been hurt, hasn’t he?” she whispered.
“He’s dead, Mad.” Travis hadn’t meant it to be so blunt, but couldn’t think of any other way to put it.
Madison stared at him blankly for a few moments and then her legs seem to give out. Travis grabbed her before she hit the floor, her body a dead weight in his arms.