The Power of Love

Here's the true power of love: I'm posting this love scene from a hospital--while I'm on vacation. Yes, for the love of my book and an awesome writing contest, I'm still posting this.


Name: Wes

Title: A Spoil of Wishes
Genre: Contemporary Fantasy
Entry word count: 748
Manuscript word count: 110,000
Link number: 13

Hot, savage passion mingled with sweet longing in that kiss, erasing Shae’s every doubt: Lorian wanted her. Beyond physical desire, she tasted the raw emotion bursting from his lips. She wanted to get closer, to push this feeling ever onward and see how far it could go.


Shae struggled briefly with his coat. The shirt she handled with less finesses, sending a couple buttons scattering across the room as she rumbled to remove it.

Lorian gripped the low neckline of her dress and with one sharp yank ripped bodice down the center. Shae shuddered at his display of lust and power. She reached up to kiss him again, and her tattered clothing fell away.

Lorian tossed her onto the bed, and she landed amongst the pillows feeling like he had thrown her into the sky onto a cloud. He climbed through the canopy curtain on his hands and knees, slowly crawling up her body. Shae’s fingers traced across his shoulders and down his back, across the patchwork mess of scars.

Shae drew him down until their bodies met, and he rained kisses on her lips and neck, making her gasp and sigh and clutch hard against his skin. He was so strong, so powerful. She was trapped by him, caged underneath his hulking form, but she felt safe there, enveloped completely in his arms. With her lips and her touch she tried to show him everything her words could not express.

He reponsed in kind at first, but then Lorian murmured between kisses, his voice quiet but firm. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Yes we should!”

“You’re drunk, Shae. Really drunk.”

“I swear I want this, Lorian. Oh God, I want you so much.”

He touched her cheek with a gentle hand. “The punch, Shae—the powdered unicorn’s horn--it distorts things; it can confuse what you really want.” He pulled away from her, leaving her feeling cold and alone. “Sometimes people wake regretting what they did the night before.”

Shae was quick to reach out to him, to reconnect physically. “Please, Lorian. Don’t go. Don’t…don’t stop.” If she had known about the was in the the punch, she wouldn’t have had it. This was what she wanted, not the influence of some elixir. She couldn’t communicate all the thoughts and feelings tearing through her, and he was already pulling away. “Please, no.”

His unnatural green eyes were on her again, filled not just with longing, but with sorrow. “I care for you, Shae. I can’t do this. I don’t want it to be like this.”

She had started this; she had been the one to make the move, to kiss him. They had connected. Everything had been so perfect. And now he was rejecting her. She felt hollow—her heart stopped existing.

She lashed out, led by her maelstrom of emotions. “Why don’t you want me? Am I not enough? Am I not enough like her? Do I need to boss you around? Is that what you need?”

“Shae, I didn’t mean—”

She slapped him hard across the face. “How’s that? Does that turn you on?”

His face jerked to one side from the impact. He was very still after the slap, but it couldn’t have hurt him much. Shae took his chin in her hand and forced his head back to her.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard you aren’t going to be able to get up for breakfast.” She planted a kiss on his lips. She would get him back, show him she really did want this.

His lips were lifeless. Everything that had been there was gone.

His eyes were full of pain. Not from her slap but something much deeper. Realizing she had hurt him, Shae was quick to apologize, but it was too late for that. Lorian rose and started for the door.

“No!” Shae scurried across the bed after him, but she made little progress. “No! Lorian, I’m sorry! Please, don’t go. Don’t leave me! Stay! I’ll stop. We can just…we don’t need to. Just don’t go!” The room blurred as tears filled her eyes. “Please, don’t leave me!”

She couldn’t see him now, but the crushing sound of the bedroom door closing chilled her blood with harsh finality. She collapsed into the mountain of bright white pillows, her body still smoldering with unsatiated lust and her heart torn asunder. Shivering in the cold, lonely night, Shae curled up around one of the pillows and cried herself to sleep.





And that is my love scene. The First Kiss scene of the book. Anyway, more from me later this week when I am no longer hospitalized and home from "vacation."

Wes
is OK now. But man did he do a number on himself.

3/12 Birthday Bash Entry

Title: A Spoil of Wishes
Genre: Contemporary Fantasy
Status: Finished MS

Shae leaned back in her chair, letting out a long, low breath. She hadn’t been this stuffed since her last visit three months ago. Her usual breakfast, when she had anything more than a cup of coffee, was just a yogurt or a muffin. Occasionally she had a bagel with cream cheese, and that was filling. But her grandmother Elsa never let her get away with eating so little when she visited.

Today’s breakfast, served out on the porch in honor of the warm spring weather, was scrambled eggs, sage sausage, and French toast made from a fresh loaf of cinnamon-raisin swirl bread and drizzled with all-natural maple syrup. The orange juice was freshly squeezed and full of pulp; the jams were homemade from berries grown on Elsa’s property; the coffee made from fresh grounds. Had there been a cow anywhere around, no doubt the cream would have been fresh as well.

“Is that all you’re going to have?” Elsa asked, eyeing the remnants of the morning feast that still dotted Shae’s plate. That was her way of saying “you’re too skinny and should eat more,” and Shae always took that as a compliment no matter how Elsa meant it. Shae loved her grandmother very much, but she wasn’t ready for the plump, adorable grandmotherly look yet. Elsa was always making little comments about Shae’s lack of appetite and her inability to eat well as though anything Shae consumed back in Philadelphia was somehow tainted because it wasn’t homemade.

“I don’t think I could eat another bite,” Shae said, trying not to think about how many hours on a treadmill it would take to burn off everything she had eaten. That’s what the gym membership was for, after all—not that she ever actually went, but that’s what it was for. If she had time to go to the gym, then she had....

And there we have the first 312 words, as per the contest rules over at Gabriela Lessa's blog. Happy birthday!  Hope it has been great so far!

Wes
has his birthday on 3/15, but he's not having any contests because of it.

Sample pages: Prologue or Chapter 1?

Blog post number 2!  How many do I need before I count as an official blogger?  I guess if I stay consistent through to June, I can call myself that.  If I want to.  Do I want to?

Anyway, on to the point of this rambling. When sending sample pages along with a query (some agents request "the first X pages" and the X seems to be 5 or 10), do I send the very first pages (i.e., the Prologue) or the beginning of the story (which I think of as Chapter 1)?

I'm curious about this because I have different opinions about my Prologue and my Chapter 1.  I think both are really good--not trying to be arrogant, here, I'm just pointing out I'm not sending something I think is less than good--but they have different points.

The Prologue has a faster pace and reveals some of the history of the important characters, but it isn't told from the perspective of the main character from whom most of the narrative is seen. The book can be read without the Prologue, and it will make complete sense and be a whole story.  Some parts of it will make more sense and be a bit clearer, however, if the Prologue is read.

Chapter 1 has a slower pace as the main character is developed (not overly) and her voice is shown.  She has a bit of slower build up to show where she is coming from before the action/twist starts later in the chapter.  I have reworked this section over and over to keep it from being too slow.  I can point out all the reasons I think the info is important and in the best pace/arrangement; of course, I'm not there with readers to point that out while they are reading, so it is kind of a moot point (or a moo point...like a cow's opinion: it doesn't matter).


So that leaves me with the question, which is the best to send: the Prologue or Chapter 1?  I can't help but think Chapter 1, since that is the true meat of the story.

And I do like my beginning.  I just worry that it might not have the suck-you-in it needs for an agent to ask for more pages. Guess I'll find out if I actually get asked for pages, huh?  Trial by fire.

Wes
is going to get burned.