Excerpt: Chapter Two of FIGHTING GRAVITY

Sorry, folks, no #fridayflash for a few weeks. Instead, I'm revealing excerpts from Defying Gravity, Fighting Gravity, and Pull of Gravity. So, here is Chapter Two of Fighting Gravity.

You can read Chapter One of Fighting Gravity here.

 

CHAPTER TWO

“We’ve spoken with Elder McGee, and he’s interested in you, sweetheart. He’s proposing a marriage agreement.” Marissa’s father’s voice pierced her mind.

She glanced at the dim lights popping over her birth town. They reminded her of stars in a pollution-hazed atmosphere. Tonight, these celestial objects gleamed brighter than in her childhood. As the electricity grew sparse, so did the pollution in the sky.

How could I leave my family behind? The thought left her mouth dry and tightened her heart.

Her parents wouldn’t know she’d left until morning.

Perhaps they’d be relieved. Her departure meant one less mouth to feed. As the oldest of six children, she should’ve had a family of her own by now. Fate didn’t work like it did a century ago before the Reckoning. The sprawling metropolises and suburban areas had been filled with eligible bachelors.

Then, the asteroid hit—the town’s folk claimed it was the size of Mr. Ranger’s farm, or about a mile in diameter —into the Atlantic Ocean. The Earth tilted. Those who didn’t die right away had to find other ways to live. Many fled south to safety. Everything had changed in that instant more than fifty years before she was born.

Now if she wanted to marry, her choice included being Elder McGee’s third wife. Although he was the town’s leader, she couldn’t stand to kiss his scratchy chin or deal with the white hair sprouting from his ears. She shuddered at the thought.

Why had the young men abandoned the town?

“Good-bye.” She shook her head. Her breath plumed before her as it mixed with the cold air. She had to continue forward. Her feet crunched the dried grasses, and her bag bumped against her back. She topped the hill and descended away from her home and toward her future. With the town disappearing behind her, she could almost believe her old life never existed.

Her body grew numb from the frigid temperatures. She blew on her gloved fingers and rubbed them together. Her digits tingled from the brief heat. Soon, she’d have to stop, light a fire, and warm up before continuing to the big city of St. Louis. Ships journeyed along the New Atlantic Ocean on a daily basis, or so she’d heard. From there, she would travel south and start her new life.

Or that was the plan.

Farther down the hill, the blackened forest reached toward her like an army of boogeymen. What creatures lurked amongst those dying trees? Wild dogs had attacked Mr. Ranger’s chickens a few weeks ago. Perhaps she should’ve brought some weapons, like a gun or a knife, instead of a pair of scissors. Not that she would know how to use a gun or a knife. She didn’t even know how the scissors would work in her grand scheme of things, but she couldn’t travel completely unprepared.

Her steps slowed to a halt. Perhaps she should turn back. Night would last another three or four hours. She could return to her small cot in the corner of the two-roomed house. No one would have to know she left. Perhaps being a third wife wouldn’t be too bad. She didn’t have to do this.

But she did.

Her eyes closed as she remembered the town meeting a month ago. There she had learned Jimmy, Lane, and Barron had fled to St. Louis. They should have arrived by now. Perhaps they were on a ship to South America. She sank to the ground. Frost chilled her butt, but she didn’t move. Barron had been so sweet to her. He’d followed her around like a lost puppy when they were going to school. Lane was a genius. If anyone could’ve saved their little town, it was he. Jimmy was a little odd, a complete follower, but she had nothing against him.

They’d fled, robbing the town of hope.

She’d known that day she would leave too. It’d taken a month to gather her courage to run away. Her parents’ marriage arrangement with the good Elder was the last kick she needed. No, she couldn’t go back.

She stood, adjusted the bag on her back, and brushed off the grass from her behind. Time to keep moving. The farther away she was the better. After all, she wouldn’t want them to look for her.

Would they?

She scurried toward the forest.

Whoosh!

A flash illuminated the sky. Her eyes widened, the light casting afterimages in her vision. What was that? Her heart leapt to her throat and stuck there.

Boom!

The ground trembled, and she lost her balance and tumbled forward. Her fingers clutched at the grass, and her body halted at a rock. Her hands and knees hurt, but she’d live. Whatever fell from the sky might not be as lucky.

Amongst the husks of the tree trunks, smoky tendrils twirled into the air. Where there’s smoke . . . . She hesitated to check out the site miles away from her. She’d read about airplanes in books, but none had flown since the asteroid strike. Could it have been a satellite? It appeared larger than she’d imagined. She pulled her lower lip into her mouth and chewed on it. Damn it. The crash had happened right along the path she was taking. Curiosity seized her, and she hoped it wouldn’t treat her like a cat.

The crash site was on her path to St. Louis. She didn’t have the time to go around, so she strode toward the accident.

If you've enjoyed what you've read, you can purchase and continue reading the rest of Fighting Gravity at these retailers:  iTunes  Kobo  Nook  Amazon  Amazon UK  Amazon DE  Amazon FR  Amazon IT  Amazon ES  Smashwords

Next Friday, we'll meet Nike in Chapter One of Pull of Gravity. 

Excerpt: Chapter One of FIGHTING GRAVITY

Sorry, folks, no #fridayflash for a few weeks. Instead, I'm revealing excerpts from Defying Gravity, Fighting Gravity, and Pull of Gravity. So, here is Chapter One of Fighting Gravity.

 

CHAPTER ONE

“You can’t stop the rage within you, son.” Phoebus’s mother’s words echoed in his head. Some days he thought she was more like a daimon than Aresian.

“I will stop it.” His voice sounded soft, weak. He’d cut into his chest too deep and still couldn’t remove the daimon’s mark. Hot blood oozed around his fingers. The injury would heal, and if his daimon—his so-called spirit guide—fixed the gash, Phoebus’s injury would be repaired in an instant. But what did he care? He would die. Sooner rather than later before he’d surrender to his daimon.

I’m not that easy to destroy.

“Get out of my head.” Phoebus screamed and clutched his hair, blood smearing on the dark strands. For a supposed executioner, he couldn’t even destroy a simple daimon.

You need me more now than ever before. You shouldn’t have left Aresia. They’re coming for you.

His daimon didn’t sound as calm as normal. Was it scared? Worried he would succeed in taking his mind, his body, his very essence back? Phoebus’s people couldn’t know he’d escaped yet, since he wasn’t expected for the next execution until tomorrow. And the one after that, Phoebus didn’t even want to think about it.

The bleeding had stopped, the flesh stitching together, as if glued. The mark, a serpent wrapped around a sword, had reappeared on his chest. If Phoebus looked at it just right, the creature would appear to slither around the weapon. Perhaps it would strangle his heart in time.

Don’t be so melodramatic. I’m really not that bad.

Phoebus would’ve laughed at the voice if he could, but he was too heartsick to find the humor in this situation anymore. Daimons were bad, and yes, that was the understatement of the millennium.

“Leave me alone.” He struggled to his feet and stumbled along the metallic floors. His boots rang dully, like a clasped bell. He ignored his reflection glaring at him from the shiny walls.

A door slid open at his presence, and he entered the spaceship’s cockpit. He collapsed into the single seat. His fingertips hovered above the panels. If he pushed the right combination of buttons, could he destroy the craft with him in it? Wasn’t this a suicide mission?

His hand dropped to the chair’s arm. Despite what he’d done, what his daimon made him do, he didn’t want to die. Worse, he was a coward.

A sigh tumbled from his lips. Outside the viewing screen, stars sparkled in the distance. If he turned the ship around, he would face his home planet, the red-tinged Aresia along with its lone moon. No other planet shone in sight, but a wormhole loomed with its swirling light. If he could make it that far . . . .

But you won’t. They’re coming for us.

“Let them come.” Quiet rage bubbled within his veins. With his mind, he sensed the weapons upon his cruiser. The laser guns tugged at his heart. If he wanted, he would give into his daimon and protect himself.

A hiss rose from the vidcom, and Hara, his mother, filled the screen. Dark hair sprouted from her typically shaved head. Her cheek bones looked sharp enough to slice steel. Red eyes widened and focused upon him. Of course, they would use her. He should’ve known.

“You’re bleeding.” Her crisp voice cut across space and time.

“Not anymore. You won’t change my mind.” He folded his arms over his chest, now completely healed from his attempt to remove the daimon’s mark.

“They’re coming for your ship, Phoebus, and they’ll bring you home. What were you thinking leaving Aresia like that? You have a job to do. What does your daimon say?”

Of course, she didn’t really care about the blood, his attempts.

“It told me they’re coming.” His shoulders slumped. His escape hadn’t gone quite as unnoticed as he’d hoped. Why couldn’t his daimon be wrong? If his people were close, then he might not enter the wormhole in time. “I never asked for this.”

“Ask for it?” Her laugh burst from her lips in a harsh, high-pitched, and cold tone. “A daimon like yours is fortuitous. Only one every hundred years has the dagger and serpent.”

Lucky, sure, she’d believe that. “They have me killing Aresians.”

“Traitors to our cause and laws.” A sneer curled her lips. “You were always weak, like your father.”

His back straightened and eyes narrowed. “Dying isn’t weak.”

“His daimon rejected him.” She shot back, anger tainting her voice.

That got Mother. Always did.

A blip to his left alerted him to the monitor. Five dots, or crafts, chased him. Escape beckoned. A few more minutes and he’d enter the wormhole.

“As much as I enjoyed this chat, it’s time for me to go.” His fingers danced over the panels and summoned the force shield a mere nanosecond before the first blast.

“Just concede and return home. Don’t be like your father. He was a good-for-nothing—”

“No can do. This is good-bye.” He slammed his fist into the vidcom’s screen. It shattered and went black. Although glass embedded into his hand, he smiled. Yes, this was good-bye. He’d been waiting his entire life for this chance.

“Are you ready to get out of here,” he asked his daimon.

We don’t have to do this, his daimon said.

“Yeah, we do.”

Another explosion struck the spaceship. Phoebus engaged the back thrusters, and the ship reached maximum speed.

“Weapons armed and ready,” a quiet, mechanical voice said.

He closed his eyes and grasped the charged lasers with his mind. Heat combined with his rage and flared toward his pursuers. It wouldn’t destroy them, but it would give him enough time.

Up ahead, the wormhole shimmered.

Boom!

What the—?

“Shield disabled. Rear thrusters damaged.”

The ship rocked and slowed. Freedom was slipping through his fingers like red desert dirt. He punched the instruments, not breaking anything this time, but pain shot from his hand to his arm.

“Oh, come on! Just a little farther.”

The spacecrafts hit him from behind and shoved the ship forward. The gravity sucked him in, and the wormhole swallowed the craft whole. The sensors showed no one following him. Would they? He didn’t know where this wormhole would lead, but it didn’t matter.

He was free.

So you think, his daimon reminded him.

If you've enjoyed what you've read, you can purchase and continue reading the rest of Fighting Gravity at these retailers:  iTunes  Kobo  Nook  Amazon  Amazon UK  Amazon DE  Amazon FR  Amazon IT  Amazon ES  Smashwords


Next Friday, we'll meet Marissa in Chapter Two of Fighting Gravity.

Purrsonal Stories with a Cover Reveal

 

Today is a special purrsonal story, which includes the cover reveal of Defying Gravity, Fighting Gravity, and Pull of Gravity and also includes a chance to win the entire trilogy, but first, it's story time!

I worked off and on since December 2009 on Defying Gravity. It was short-listed for one anthology, which was cancelled. Then, I submitted it in 2011 to a publisher and never heard back, so I withdrew my submission and decided to self-publish the story. It expanded from an 8,000-word story from one POV to a 15,500-word story from two POVs. This story inspired the other two stories in the Gravity trilogy.

The reviews started rolling in, and the majority were four and five stars. Some people wanted more, but to be honest, I told the story the way I wanted it. Then, after a free run, a couple bad reviews almost ruined everything.

That's right. I almost gave up on Fighting Gravity and Pull of Gravity and was tempted to unpublish Defying Gravity too.

But I had promised a trilogy. I re-read Defying Gravity, and I still loved that story and believed in it. Those bad reviews taught me truly how subjective writing is. It was a humbling experience. And I decided to persevere and keep writing.

Fighting Gravity came out on May 1st, and I hope to publish Pull of Gravity by the end of July/early August.

And I decided that all three needed a cover makeover.

So without further ado, here is the Gravity trilogy!

 

I love my new covers, and I think they breathe life into the trilogy. I look forward in sharing Pull of Gravity with you soon.

And now, you have a chance to win a copy of the complete trilogy. All you have to do is comment on this blog post. I will announce the winner on Friday.

Want more chances to win? Some friends are also revealing the covers and hosting a giveaway of the trilogy, so please stop by their blogs as well.

Christine Rains

Aubrie Dionne

Nicole Zoltack

Esther Spurrill-Jones

Rachel Morgan

Golden Eagle

Cher Green

Wednesday's Writing Update: Cover Art Reveal of WOMEN OF FOXWICK

 

Happy Wednesday!

I caught my sister's cold last week, so I've been rather slow and drained from it. In other words, nothing much has gotten done since then.

A to Z Flashes of Foxwick and Fighting Gravity have been accepted into Smashwords Premium Catalog, but it takes a while for stories to appear on there. I'll keep everyone updated. All three are now available on Nook, though, and A to Z Flashes of Foxwick and Fighting Gravity are on Kobo.

 

I've had a change in plans. Instead of working on Pull of Gravity in May, I'm planning to finish up Women of Foxwick. Here's the cover art for it. Aubrie Dionne made it for me. Isn't it pretty? Women of Foxwick is a short story collection featuring five women of Foxwick: Lyrica in "Lady Bard," Vesta in "Dragon Seer," Umbria in "Lady Death," Amelia in "Mage Game," and Zenia in "Magic Seeker." Since May has been so busy and I want to take more time with Pull of Gravity, I thought it would be best to finish up the last two stories in Women of Foxwick ("Lady Bard" and "Magic Seeker") first and get this collection out in June. Then I can write the longer Pull of Gravity and publish it around July.

You can add Women of Foxwick to your Goodreads list here.

Don't forget to enter the 2nd Annual Flash Fiction Blogfest here. It starts next Monday.

So what have you been working on?

Fighting Gravity now available!

Today is the official release date of Fighting Gravity, book two of the Gravity series.

Forced into executing Aresia’s people, Phoebus escapes the Aresian Guard by flying his spaceship through a wormhole.

The only single woman of marrying age, Marissa flees town instead of becoming a third wife.

When Phoebus’s spacecraft crashes upon an asteroid-ravaged Earth, he is captured by a rogue Earthling youth and thrown into a cellar. Marissa stumbles upon the spacecraft, but it explodes before she can find any sign of the alien. When she awakens, she discovers the alien’s whereabouts and vows to help him. But Phoebus’s Aresians have landed and are searching for him. Phoebus and Marissa must battle against their despair and their peoples in a quest for their freedom. And through it all, an Earthling and an Aresian will find it easier to fight gravity than their love for each other.

Some reviews of Fighting Gravity:

"Fighting Gravity captivated me until the end." - Review from Christine Rains, writer

"A roller coaster ride with a sweet interstellar romance at its core..." - Review from Aubrie Dionne, author of Paradise 21

To purchase: Amazon  Amazon UK  Amazon DE  Amazon FR  Amazon IT  Amazon ES  Smashwords 

If you join my author newsletter, you can receive a coupon from Smashwords to download Fighting Gravity for free!

To celebrate Fighting Gravity's release date, Defying Gravity, book one of the Gravity trilogy, is now free through May 4th. So if you haven't snagged a copy, then please do. Also spreading the word would be awesome. *hint-hint*

Defying Gravity is free at these sites (May 1-4): Amazon US  Amazon UK  Amazon DE  Amazon FR  Amazon IT  Amazon ES.

I am also on tour with Bewitching Book Tours today at these sites. If you have a chance, please stop by. *grins*

Fang-tastic Books

www.fang-tasticbooks.blogspot.com

Roxanne’s Realm

www.roxannesrealm.blogspot.com

The Creatively Green Write at Home Mom

www.creativelygreen.blogspot.com

Lisa's World of Books

www.lisasworldofbooks.net

Sapphyria's Book Reviews

saphsbookblog.blogspot.com

(afternoon post)

Book Travels

http://booktravels.blogspot.com.br/

Read2Review

http://read2review.com 

Flutey Words

http://authoraubrie.blogspot.com

JeanzBookReadNReview        

http://jeanzbookreadnreview.blogspot.co.uk/

If the posts aren't up yet, then please try stopping by another time.

Wednesday's Writing Update: Stats, Goal Changers, and Cover Art Reveal

All links open up as a new page.

Happy Wednesday!

You can read my review of Suzanne Collins' The Hunger Games at Surrounded by Books Reviews. Plus my sister and I are going to the midnight showing of the movie tomorrow night! Yay!

I have February's stats.

Word Count: 7,511

Pages Edited: 217

I haven't sent anything out on submission in a while, so I have nothing out there to be accepted/rejected.

I have the cover art for Fighting Gravity finalized. Here it is, along with the description of Fighting Gravity. You can add this book to your Goodreads list here.

Forced into executing Aresia’s people, Phoebus escapes the Aresian Guard by flying his spaceship through a wormhole.

The only single woman of marrying age, Marissa flees her prospects of becoming Elder McGee’s third wife for a chance at freedom upon the New Atlantic Ocean.

When Phoebus’s spacecraft crashes upon an asteroid-ravaged Earth, he is captured by a rogue Earthling youth and thrown into a cellar. Marissa stumbles upon the spacecraft, but it explodes before she can find any sign of the alien. When she awakens, she discovers the alien’s whereabouts and vows to help him. They plot his escape when they learn Phoebus’s Aresians have landed and are searching for him. Phoebus and Marissa must battle against their despair and their peoples in their quest for freedom and love. And through it all, an Earthling and an Aresian will find it easier to fight gravity than their love for each other.

You can also add A to Z Flashes of Foxwick on Goodreads here.

If you click here, you'll see that I modified my 2012 Goals page quite a bit from the start of the year. Yeah, I was overly ambitious at the start of the year, and the only way I could've done everything I would've liked to do is either by giving up social networking (not happening) or sleep (definitely not happening). So I've had to modify it quite a bit and make it much more reasonable.

I've decided to focus edits on two books this year: The Phoenix Prophetess (I'd like to get the edits done by the end of June) and Starred (I'd like to get the edits done by the end of December, preferably by the end of October).

For NaNoWriMo, I plan to write Paranormal Junkies, a YA Horror novel.

I'll still have #fridayflash to write for the blog.

Then, the rest of my focus will be on some forthcoming self-published titles including: the last two books in the Gravity series, my short story collections (4 of them: A to Z Flashes of Foxwick, Women of Foxwick, Men of Foxwick, and Neighbors of Foxwick) involving the Kingdom of Foxwick, and the long-awaited sequel to Once Upon a December Nightmare titled Nightmare Ever After. I'm not sure if I'll get all the Foxwick stories done by the end of this year, but the others shouldn't be too much of a problem.

It'd be nice to get everything done before December, so I can take December off to read more and do some light writing. Of course, depending on time and everything else, this schedule in itself might change, but it's definitely more manageable, I think.

Have you decided to modify your goals before? Do you find yourself planning too much or too little?

Also, don't forget to sign up for my author newsletter. You'll get news before everyone else. I promise not to spam you. Plus, you will receive a free short story ("Magna's Plea") from the Phoenix Trilogy universe. Subscribe to our newsletter
 

#fridayflash "A Full House"

 

This is pre-Fighting Gravity from Marissa's point of view of her household. Sorry if you saw this yesterday too. When I pre-scheduled it, I must've clicked the wrong day. Oops. Oh, and how do you like the new #fridayflash symbol?

A Full House

Her mother’s scream shattered the children’s cries.

The twins, Cari and Lyn, tugged on Marissa’s ratty shirt. “’Issa, is mommy okay?” they asked in unison.

Marissa leaned over and kissed their foreheads. “She’s just bring our little brother and sister into the world. Farah, get down from there.”

She snatched her other sister from the dresser. “All of you settle down and eat your soup. I need to check on Mama.”

Cari, Lyn, Farah, and Caleb settled around the table and their meager meal. They didn’t even have a bouillon cube to add to the soup this time. Just some mashed vegetables and the last of their tomato cans.

“Where’s daddy?” Caleb asked, his blue eyes ripped into her heart. Would he one day leave them like the others? He was still young enough to remain here.

“He’s getting the midwife. He’ll be back soon. Eat up.” The fourteen-year old checked her siblings once more before she entered the back room.

Sweat poured from her mother’s temples. The sheet bulged over her rippling belly. The contractions had started hours ago, but their father still wasn’t back with the midwife. Would she have the baby here? Marissa hoped not.

She never wanted children.

“Mama, are you okay?” Marissa soaked a cloth in the melted snow water and dampened her forehead like her mama used to do when she was ill.

Her mother’s hands clutch the sheets as another contraction stole her breath. Then, she collapsed back against the pillow. “Is he back yet, Marissa?”

“Not yet, but it won’t be long.” Marissa looked at the battery-operated clock. The contractions were coming closer. It wouldn’t be long. One way or the other.

“I’m glad you’re here, Mari-bee. I don’t know what we would do without you.” Her mother kissed her daughter’s hand. Wrinkles and dry skin touched her mother’s hand. She was too old to have another child. Would her father take a young wife in time?

Guilt inched across her chest at the words, the gesture. Marissa wanted to be anywhere else, but home is where she would remain as her sixth sibling would soon be born. Her gaze flicked toward the window. Hazy lights robbed her view of the evening sky. Were the stars out? The outline of hills loomed in the distance. Far enough away would be St. Louis and the New Atlantic Ocean. One day she would leave and go there perhaps. Things were better south where the air was warmer. There would be enough food.

One day.

#fridayflash "An Aresian Ritual"

This flash piece involves Phoebus, an Aresian, and their practices with daimons. It's pre-Fighting Gravity.

An Aresian Ritual

Phoebus’s heart raced as he reclined on the metallic table. The light above his head flickered before solidifying into a white glow. His gaze fell toward the darkened windows hovering to his left. Would his mother be there watching him? She said she’d come.

He swallowed hard and wiped his sweaty palms upon his white trousers. Footsteps clomped closer, and he sucked in a shallow breath.

“Are you ready?” The Aresian male’s gloves popped against his flesh when he put them on.

“Do I have a choice?” Phoebus placed his hands against the table. Metal clanked above them, his ankles, his waist, and his neck.

“It’s not that bad, but we must take precautions.” The Aresian checked the restraints. His head bobbed toward the unseen spectators behind the glass.

The metal felt cold against his flesh. The Aresian pressed a gloved hand above Phoebus’s chest. Would he hear the rapid pounding of his heart? The frightened breaths?

His father had died from this procedure.

Would he be next?

Phoebus’s pulse brushed against the neck restraint as two Aresian females entered the room. Pinpricks flowed over his arms. He squeezed his eyelids shut as his fingertips went numb. “Please, don’t do this.”

“Remain still. You’ll feel a pinch.”

Phoebus opened his eyes as the needle jammed into his chest over his heart. His scream echoed in the small room. His chest felt like it was on fire. His body arched against the metal restraints, but didn’t budge them. The burn singed through his body until he thought he would pass out.

Then the male extracted the needle. “Give it a minute.”

Phoebus could barely hear the words. His voice rasped from his parched throat. The flames slowed and stopped lapping his flesh from the inside out. He gasped for air as the three other Aresians in the room backed away from him.

“What? What is it?” Fear spiked, and he was certain his heart would give out.

“The mark,” the male said and pointed at it.

The restraints disappeared into the table, and Phoebus bolted upright into a sitting position. He stared at the symbol upon his chest, and his being wanted to sink into the table, if he could. A serpent swirled around the dagger over his heart. The executioner daimon. His worst fears were realized.

“No, it can’t be.”

“Congratulations, Phoebus.” The male grinned at him, his red eyes blaring with the thrill of seeing this particular mark.

“It can’t be,” he repeated.

Hello, Phoebus, the daimon said into his mind. We’ll get to know each other very well. Are you ready?

“Noooo!”

Campaign Challenge 1 #writecampaign

Purrsonal Thursdays will continue next month, but as a campaigner from Rachael Harrie's Fourth Platform-Building Campaign, we have these nifty little challenges, so here's mine.

The Challenge is: Write a short story/flash fiction story in 200 words or less, excluding the title. It can be in any format, including a poem. Begin the story with the words, “Shadows crept across the wall”. These five words will be included in the word count.

If you want to give yourself an added challenge (optional), do one or more of these:

Done! · end the story with the words: "everything faded." (also included in the word count)

Done! · include the word "orange" in the story

Done! (This is a sneak peek from Fighting Gravity, book two of the Gravity series) · write in the same genre you normally write

Done! · make your story 200 words exactly!

Crash and Burn

Shadows crept across the wall. Orange flames smoldered through the metal. She would bake in this intergalactic oven. Acrid smoke coated her tongue with bitter ash. The soft ticking from earlier crescendoed into a pounding beat rivaling her heart’s.

Would the spaceship explode?

Marissa had to leave. Now.

Her footsteps tinned against the floor as she neared the cockpit. A little farther, she would be outside. Sweat collected on her upper lip and seeped into her hair. She blinked her eyelids to clear her cloudy vision.

“Ow!” Her arm knocked against the wall.

Crrraaack!

The spacecraft rocked and pitched forward. Marissa lost her balance and fell. The breath whooshed out of her. Stars flashed before her eyes. She stumbled toward the instrument panel. Broken glass shredded her palms and knees, but she fought to escape.

She tumbled from the window. Fire lapped against the dried leaves. Another crack echoed throughout the forest. Run, her mind urged, but her body begged for sleep. She staggered toward freedom.

Whatever happened to the alien inside?

That last thought struck her as the spaceship exploded. The blast flung her into the air, and she crashed to the ground. Her eyes closed as everything faded.

I'm #165, so if you like this, please go to Rachael's blog here and click "like" at my name. Thank you!

Wednesday's Writing Update: Blogger Buddy Fail and Writing

 

Happy Wednesday!

Being off for Presidents' Day has really messed with my head. *laughs* I almost forgot I hadn't written up today's post. Oops.

Yes, I've been a bad blogger buddy. I've been in epic fail mode since February, it seems. I can't keep up and find my happy medium. It'll get there, but it might take longer than I'd hoped. If you've followed my blog and I haven't followed yours yet, please leave a comment with your blog link. I love following back, but sometimes I miss people who follow and don't comment. As for the first campaigner challenge, mine will be up tomorrow, and I'm slowly making the rounds.

The Defying Gravity book blog tour is going well. I've really enjoyed hearing from people. So far the reviews are good, but I'd always be open to more honest reviews, so if you would like a copy to read and review on Amazon/Goodreads/etc., then let me know. I'd be happy to send you a Kindle copy or PDF.

I've adjusted my February goals. The Phoenix Prophetess edits have been moved to March. I figure I'll write the rest of my A to Z Flashes of Foxwick for the A to Z Challenge in March too. I'm still trying to finish up my flash fiction for March's Fridays. Plus, I'm busy writing the first draft of Fighting Gravity. I have the cover art for it already. You'll see it soon. I promise. It's awesome. Even better than Defying Gravity.

So what have you been up to?

#fridayflash "His Father's Funeral"

His Father’s Funeral

His father’s body lay upon the stacks of wood. Each step the death priests took made his shoulders droop. A drum pounded out a steady beat.

Step, droop, beat.

He reached over, his small hand trying to take his mother’s beside him.

She smacked his hand away. The sting just tingled. It couldn’t compete with the ache in his ten-year-old heart.

“Mother?” His voice lifted the question, but cold eyes—not a teardrop sparkled within them—focused upon him.

The death priests lifted the torches to the firebowl.

“Phoebus, your father died because he was weak. His daimon rejected him.” Her voice had hushed to a sharp whisper. He glanced around, but no one heard her words except for him.

Step, droop, beat.

The fiery torches went from the firebowl to the pyre. His eyes filled with tears, and they trickled down his face and dripped upon his boots.

“Now stand up straight, don’t snivel for the dead.”

With eyes closed and tears still dampening his cheeks, he straightened his shoulders.

It did nothing for the pain. The loss. His breath held in his chest until he thought he would burst under the pressure, or pass out.

When he opened his eyes, smoke obscured his father’s body, and he could almost pretend he wasn’t dead and gone.

Almost.

Step, droop, beat.