To say I’m easily distracted is probably the largest understatement in the world. Especially when it comes to writing projects.
The fancy sequel feels distant, so I thought it best to let it breathe a sec. Then work got…shitty…for a couple days. So bad it would have affected any word I put on paper. I had to dumb down my brain with episodes of Real Housewives. Yes, it was that bad. Nothing better than watching somebody else’s drama unfold for a while.
Then Charissa and I got distracted yesterday on Pinterest. Creating story boards for our WIP’s.
See…here’s the thing.
We sorta started this futuristic urban fantasy last March while I was in the process of cleaning up my submission package for queries…and then I don’t know what happened. It’s literally the full first act of the book. She moved on to this romance story and I was querying…and the project just sort of died down, I guess.
But since we’re doing WIP boards, we start one for ours because it’s come up a couple times, and we both love it, so it’s not going anywhere.
Out of curiosity, I open the doc yesterday and AM FLOORED by it. And what’s crazy is I accidentally opened the rough version. Once I looked at the edited, I was literally like, We stopped writing this?!
Who likes books with lines so good you wanna quote them?
I felt like this had those in spades. Charissa and I ended up tossing several back and forth, both in disbelief. Both asking, We wrote this? And it’s been since freakin March, so we’d forgotten a lot of what we did. In the recent conversations, we both agreed the “government” of the world was too complicated, but reading it with fresh eyes, I thought it was actually far simpler than we made it out to be. (We tend to overthink things…)
The world building amazed me.
I whipped my hair into a low hanging braid and headed for the closet to retrieve my hover board. Sleek, black…my very own jaguar of the skies. I’d kill a man for fucking with my board.
With my baby tucked under my arm, and the double-edged, curved sword secured to my waist, I propped open the window. The drumming sound of rain filled the apartment, muffling the car horns on the streets far below me in the Lowers of our nation’s capital city. The occasional police whistle sounded between the random honks.
Cars zipped by me in the hover lane, their lights reflecting off millions of raindrops in the blackened sky. Out of habit, I glanced above me to the Uppers and the hover lane reserved for the ridiculously wealthy. If you didn’t live outside the city, you lived above it. Skyscrapers made of glass and steel reached higher than should have been possible, just so the wealthiest of the wealthy could literally look down their noses on the rest of us.
A cabbie approached at a speed I was pretty damn sure wasn’t legal. I readied my board outside the window and jumped out onto it. Its anti-grav lost a few inches of air under my weight causing my stomach to flip even though I’d expected it. The green cab flew by and I hitched onto its bumper, riding the waves of air currents coming off its chasse.
It’s told from the POV of two kick-ass characters.
“Go with God, Demon,” I said, thrusting my blade deeper. “Tell Lucifer Mira Cavanaugh said hey.”
“And by the way, Demon. The name’s not Hunter, you bastard.” My voice rang out and echoed against the walls of the tomb-like cathedral. “It’s Jonas. Jonas fucking Knight.”
Ethan shook his head and a clipped laugh shot out of his chest. “I was going to tell you to be careful. I was going to tell you that my brother won’t go down without a fight, and that he’s every bit as good as they say he is. Then I realized what I’m asking. How this has to end.”
“With your brother’s death.”
His lips pursed and he looked away again. “It’s you or him and I’m at odds with the outcome.”
Because why shouldn’t we have Ethan in love with Mira and is forced to send her after his brother Jonas…? Yeah? Mhm.
Then when Mira and Jonas meet? OMG.
The clatter of his knife hitting concrete sounded as he fisted my leather jacket and yanked me closer. Piercing blue eyes ringed with red narrowed on me. He shook me. “Your. Name.”
He had me up on my toes, but I did my best to straighten my spine and meet his gaze with my own brand of dangerous. “Mira, you disgusting meat suit.”
He laughed, throwing his head back to let the sound echo around us. When he looked down at me again from his lofty height, he licked away a coating of blood on his full lower lip. “Mira Cavanaugh. I’ve heard of you. You’ve quite the reputation yourself for a Princess.”
For the first time in my life, the title wasn’t just an insult, but an expletive rolled up in sewage, buried under the grave of the foulest rotting corpse. “Oh! Fuck you!”
I gripped both of his ears and head butted him.
That’s just a taste. These two are freaking fantastic together.
So, all that said, I think we’re going to attempt this again WITH our other projects. She’s just started the rewrite to an urban fantasy I had to beg her to write, and I have my own to work on. Gonna have to work out a schedule.
Here’s our board, linked to Pinterest if you’re curious I might be a little excited.