I’m on a Roll

I don’t know if it was the threat of Candy Havens’ Fast Draft that got me going, or just that I was tired of being a loser who couldn’t step up and focus—but my writing is definitely beginning to pick up and it feels good.

I officially begin Fast Draft on Monday, and the goal is 2000 words per day, which is 8 pages per day. I’m hoping that will give me a solid rough first draft by the end of two weeks that I can really work on refining when I leave to go on my vacation—and of course I’m bringing the laptop on vacation.

I leave you with a small snippet of Absolute Justice (I’m really getting into Mira’s voice, she’s got a smart mouth on her that ROCKS ! ):

“Mira, stop. This is no game, and I don’t intend to fight you.”

“Good.” She pulled a deadly-looking knife from a sheath at her waist. “That will make the slicing and dicing even easier.”

As she moved to attack, Justice sighed, lifting a hand and using his psychic powers to freeze her where she stood. She cried out, infuriation evident in every straining muscle of her body. Her strength, as she fought against his power, was phenomenal, but he’d known that it would be since she’d been able to thrust him out of her mind earlier.

“Let me go.”

“Promise you won’t try and hack me to pieces, and I might.”

“Not a chance.”

That, at least, hadn’t changed. The old Mira would never have given in either, or made promises she had no intention of keeping, just to make things easier on herself. “Then I guess you’re stuck, aren’t you?”

She snorted, and even with his power holding her body immobile, she still managed to give him a look of such disdain he almost smiled at the woman’s audacity. She either had no idea who she was dealing with, or she was the most reckless, foolhardy creature on the planet. “You think I won’t break free of this, especially if it means getting to kick your ass all over town?”

“I’m only asking for five minutes.”

“Five minutes that I’ll never get back.”

Justice took a step toward her, noting how wide and round her eyes got at his approach. Did she think he was going to hurt her, or could it be something else? Could she be afraid of having him close, afraid of what he made her feel? “I think you can make the time for an old friend,” he murmured, lifting a finger to trail down the line of her cheek.

She flinched and hissed as if his touch burned her, but Justice didn’t back down. Although he would have said that he was centuries beyond being able to feel anything even remotely akin to emotion, there was a small tug within the otherwise emptiness of his chest that felt suspiciously like desperation as he realized that she really would fight him to the death here and now—if he gave her just half a chance.