Kim Golden's Blog - Posts Tagged "wip"
30 Days, 30 Stories: Story #9
It's Day 9 of the 30 Days, 30 Stories challenge and I thought I'd combine it with #FLF or First Look Friday. I'm giving you an excerpt of one of my unpublished novels, The Time Is Now, as Story #9: Chris & Kyra:
She drained her glass too quickly but she didn't care. He saw that in the way her set stance dared him to criticize her. But he didn't say anything. He drank the rest of his scotch and stared out the window. This wasn't how he'd imagined their reunion. He blamed it on too many movies. He'd concocted a romanticized version of it in his head with her throwing him knowing looks and him suggesting they take a walk like in the old days. He hadn't factored in the rest of the cast of characters--the bitter ex-girlfriends, the hangers-on who'd want any piece of his attention they could get.
Chris inched closer to her until their knees touched. Kyra watched him. The expression on her face was unreadable. She licked her lips. "I want to kiss you so badly," he said, not bothering to pretend any longer. "I've been wanting to since I saw you earlier."
Her lips parted but she didn't say anything. She licked her lips again. She was nervous. He realized that now. So he took the initiative. Just as he had 15 years ago. And when he kissed her, she tasted the same and her body felt so good in his arms. He had to remind himself they were in a public place. And when they parted, she was trembling but she was smiling too.
"Some things never change," she murmured.
"Oh yeah? Like what?"
"You're still a great kisser."
He grinned and kissed her again, this time lingering over her moist lips and breathing in the scent of her perfume. "You want to take a walk...?"
She nodded fervently. They paid the bill and left without a backward thought for their former classmates and catching up.
She drained her glass too quickly but she didn't care. He saw that in the way her set stance dared him to criticize her. But he didn't say anything. He drank the rest of his scotch and stared out the window. This wasn't how he'd imagined their reunion. He blamed it on too many movies. He'd concocted a romanticized version of it in his head with her throwing him knowing looks and him suggesting they take a walk like in the old days. He hadn't factored in the rest of the cast of characters--the bitter ex-girlfriends, the hangers-on who'd want any piece of his attention they could get.
Chris inched closer to her until their knees touched. Kyra watched him. The expression on her face was unreadable. She licked her lips. "I want to kiss you so badly," he said, not bothering to pretend any longer. "I've been wanting to since I saw you earlier."
Her lips parted but she didn't say anything. She licked her lips again. She was nervous. He realized that now. So he took the initiative. Just as he had 15 years ago. And when he kissed her, she tasted the same and her body felt so good in his arms. He had to remind himself they were in a public place. And when they parted, she was trembling but she was smiling too.
"Some things never change," she murmured.
"Oh yeah? Like what?"
"You're still a great kisser."
He grinned and kissed her again, this time lingering over her moist lips and breathing in the scent of her perfume. "You want to take a walk...?"
She nodded fervently. They paid the bill and left without a backward thought for their former classmates and catching up.
30 Days, 30 Stories: Story #10
I was out all afternoon with some friends so I didn't have time to write a brand spanking new story for Day 10 of 30 Days, 30 Stories. Sharing an excerpt instead from my unpublished novel, The Time Is Now.
Story #10: Unsettling News
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She hated thinking about that night when her dad's partner showed up with another officer she'd never met before and asked to speak to her mother. Kyra had been at home alone. Her mother was working the night shift at the hospital so the officers told her the news in slow, careful tones. She remembered how their words disappeared. She could see their mouths moving but she heard nothing; her dad's partner, Joe Schmidt, was sobbing--heart-wrenching sobs that unnerved her.
"Your dad was the best partner I ever had," Joe Schmidt said again and again. "The absolute best--damn it, he should be here. He should be coming home to you and your ma."
The other officer was calmer. He kept calling Kyra "ma'am" which she couldn't understand at first. Her mother was "ma'am"...she was Kyra, sixteen years old, Kyra Amelia Halliwell. She was the girl who was in love and was accepted to five different colleges and was going to the prom soon. Her hands shook and then her entire body seemed to vibrate and clatter. And then she was on the floor and she was screaming but she didn't know if the noise was really her or if she was imagining it. But a black hole was opening beneath her and the darkness was pulling her in, and swirling and mawing. She didn't remember anything until something cold and wet stunned her back to reality. The other officer had placed a compress on her forehead and was asking her if they could take her somewhere so she wouldn't be alone. She told them to take her to Chris's house.
"Don't you want to go to your aunt's house on Brown Street?"
She shook her head fiercely. "I want to be with Chris."
So they drove her there. It was nearly midnight when they arrived and Chris's mother didn't want to let her in until Officer Schmidt explained what had happened. Even then, his mother hesitated. It was Chris's father who'd ushered her in and called for Chris. She was still shivering, tears were still streaming down her face and she felt her legs giving way beneath her.
When Chris appeared at the top of the stairs, she just sobbed his name and he practically flew to her. He took her upstairs and ignored his mother's protests that Kyra should go to the guest room. He took her into his room and laid her on the bed and covered her with his quilt. Then he lay down beside her and melded his body to hers, holding her and whispering in her ear that everything would be okay and urging her to close her eyes and just hear his voice. And she drifted to sleep and heard only him and the sound of his breathing and his heart beating and blood rushing through her ears.
They lay like that all night.
Downstairs his parents argued. His mother didn't want some stranger showing up on their doorstep with her problems.
That was how Mrs. Morrison saw it--a police officer, a father gunned down in the line of duty, was an "unsettling problem" that neither they nor Chris needed. She woke once and heard Chris's father talking about compassion and shock and how Kyra was right to come to Chris. But his mother refused to back down. The next morning she drove Kyra home and said she should be supporting her mother rather than clinging to Chris.
Story #10: Unsettling News
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She hated thinking about that night when her dad's partner showed up with another officer she'd never met before and asked to speak to her mother. Kyra had been at home alone. Her mother was working the night shift at the hospital so the officers told her the news in slow, careful tones. She remembered how their words disappeared. She could see their mouths moving but she heard nothing; her dad's partner, Joe Schmidt, was sobbing--heart-wrenching sobs that unnerved her.
"Your dad was the best partner I ever had," Joe Schmidt said again and again. "The absolute best--damn it, he should be here. He should be coming home to you and your ma."
The other officer was calmer. He kept calling Kyra "ma'am" which she couldn't understand at first. Her mother was "ma'am"...she was Kyra, sixteen years old, Kyra Amelia Halliwell. She was the girl who was in love and was accepted to five different colleges and was going to the prom soon. Her hands shook and then her entire body seemed to vibrate and clatter. And then she was on the floor and she was screaming but she didn't know if the noise was really her or if she was imagining it. But a black hole was opening beneath her and the darkness was pulling her in, and swirling and mawing. She didn't remember anything until something cold and wet stunned her back to reality. The other officer had placed a compress on her forehead and was asking her if they could take her somewhere so she wouldn't be alone. She told them to take her to Chris's house.
"Don't you want to go to your aunt's house on Brown Street?"
She shook her head fiercely. "I want to be with Chris."
So they drove her there. It was nearly midnight when they arrived and Chris's mother didn't want to let her in until Officer Schmidt explained what had happened. Even then, his mother hesitated. It was Chris's father who'd ushered her in and called for Chris. She was still shivering, tears were still streaming down her face and she felt her legs giving way beneath her.
When Chris appeared at the top of the stairs, she just sobbed his name and he practically flew to her. He took her upstairs and ignored his mother's protests that Kyra should go to the guest room. He took her into his room and laid her on the bed and covered her with his quilt. Then he lay down beside her and melded his body to hers, holding her and whispering in her ear that everything would be okay and urging her to close her eyes and just hear his voice. And she drifted to sleep and heard only him and the sound of his breathing and his heart beating and blood rushing through her ears.
They lay like that all night.
Downstairs his parents argued. His mother didn't want some stranger showing up on their doorstep with her problems.
That was how Mrs. Morrison saw it--a police officer, a father gunned down in the line of duty, was an "unsettling problem" that neither they nor Chris needed. She woke once and heard Chris's father talking about compassion and shock and how Kyra was right to come to Chris. But his mother refused to back down. The next morning she drove Kyra home and said she should be supporting her mother rather than clinging to Chris.
30 Days, 30 Stories: Story #19
Story #19: Feel
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She didn’t remember the drive home. All she remembered was how the resentment eating away at her grew in mammoth proportions. How could she have married a man as irresponsible as Will—someone who’d sign away part of their dream just to get more money from his mother? At one point, Michael began to fill the silence by singing along with the radio. His voice cracked whenever he tried to hit high notes, bringing a smile to Cassie’s lips. What Cassie did remember was turning to Michael as they stopped at a traffic light and asking him if she could spend the night with him. She remembered his stunned silence and then the nervous way he’d looked at her. He’d licked his lips and pressed them together—he wanted to say yes, she knew he did. Damn it—why did his indecision kick in just when she’d decided to shove off the yoke of being Will Castle’s widow?
“Don’t take too long answering—there might not be a second shot,” she’d said, her words coming hot and strong out of her mouth. “Do you want me, or not?”
“I do,” Michael said, his voice just barely audible over REM singing “Losing My Religion”. “I want you so badly I can almost taste you.”
That was what rang through Cassie’s mind as they drove on without speaking. Now she’d taken this step, smudged out the boundaries between tenant and landlord. Had there ever really been one? Ever since he’d turned up on her driveway she’d been dancing around the issue that this was the man she’d loved before she’d even met Will. Ten years ago, she would’ve done anything for Michael if only he’d asked.
By the time they pulled into the driveway of Marlborough Cottage, Cassie was shivering though it had nothing to do with the cold. She hopped out of the car and stalked towards the converted garage. Michael trailed behind her, his footsteps measured. What was the best way to do this? In the car it had seemed so easy to just declare that she wanted to sleep with him. She didn’t wait for him; instead she quickly unlocked the door and then took the steps two at a time to his apartment. Her heart was beating wildly. She knew she ought to slow down, but she couldn’t. One pause too many and she’d lose her nerve. She heard him climb the stairs and her anticipation swelled. She undid her coat and tossed it aside. She unbuttoned her sweater, then thought better and nearly redid them. Then he was standing at the top of the stairs, his blond hair shining in the dim light. His movements were slow, almost measured, as he too removed his vest and scarf. When they were face to face again she tried to ignore the tight expression on his face. She smoothed it away and kissed him, tentatively at first. His lips were soft under hers. When his arms slid around her she pulled him closer and she knew he wanted her, she felt it in the strength of his arms and the slow slide of his hands over the curve of her ass.
“Are you sure?” he murmured in her ear.
Nodding, she stepped back just enough to lead him down the dark hallway to the bedroom. He didn’t resist, there was no longer any doubt in his eyes. And the more she drank him in, the more she remembered the first time they made love in his small studio apartment in Stockholm. She remembered how each time he thrust into her, his mouth grazed her ear. She remembered his ragged breathing, and the murmured words… This was what she wanted. To remember what it felt like to be with someone who loved her, who’d craved her. Ten years and she still remembered the trail of freckles on his left shoulder, the raised scar on his stomach…and when he pulled her to him again and began undressing her, the wet heat growing inside of her made her weak. His smile told her what she already knew—they were in for a long night.
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She didn’t remember the drive home. All she remembered was how the resentment eating away at her grew in mammoth proportions. How could she have married a man as irresponsible as Will—someone who’d sign away part of their dream just to get more money from his mother? At one point, Michael began to fill the silence by singing along with the radio. His voice cracked whenever he tried to hit high notes, bringing a smile to Cassie’s lips. What Cassie did remember was turning to Michael as they stopped at a traffic light and asking him if she could spend the night with him. She remembered his stunned silence and then the nervous way he’d looked at her. He’d licked his lips and pressed them together—he wanted to say yes, she knew he did. Damn it—why did his indecision kick in just when she’d decided to shove off the yoke of being Will Castle’s widow?
“Don’t take too long answering—there might not be a second shot,” she’d said, her words coming hot and strong out of her mouth. “Do you want me, or not?”
“I do,” Michael said, his voice just barely audible over REM singing “Losing My Religion”. “I want you so badly I can almost taste you.”
That was what rang through Cassie’s mind as they drove on without speaking. Now she’d taken this step, smudged out the boundaries between tenant and landlord. Had there ever really been one? Ever since he’d turned up on her driveway she’d been dancing around the issue that this was the man she’d loved before she’d even met Will. Ten years ago, she would’ve done anything for Michael if only he’d asked.
By the time they pulled into the driveway of Marlborough Cottage, Cassie was shivering though it had nothing to do with the cold. She hopped out of the car and stalked towards the converted garage. Michael trailed behind her, his footsteps measured. What was the best way to do this? In the car it had seemed so easy to just declare that she wanted to sleep with him. She didn’t wait for him; instead she quickly unlocked the door and then took the steps two at a time to his apartment. Her heart was beating wildly. She knew she ought to slow down, but she couldn’t. One pause too many and she’d lose her nerve. She heard him climb the stairs and her anticipation swelled. She undid her coat and tossed it aside. She unbuttoned her sweater, then thought better and nearly redid them. Then he was standing at the top of the stairs, his blond hair shining in the dim light. His movements were slow, almost measured, as he too removed his vest and scarf. When they were face to face again she tried to ignore the tight expression on his face. She smoothed it away and kissed him, tentatively at first. His lips were soft under hers. When his arms slid around her she pulled him closer and she knew he wanted her, she felt it in the strength of his arms and the slow slide of his hands over the curve of her ass.
“Are you sure?” he murmured in her ear.
Nodding, she stepped back just enough to lead him down the dark hallway to the bedroom. He didn’t resist, there was no longer any doubt in his eyes. And the more she drank him in, the more she remembered the first time they made love in his small studio apartment in Stockholm. She remembered how each time he thrust into her, his mouth grazed her ear. She remembered his ragged breathing, and the murmured words… This was what she wanted. To remember what it felt like to be with someone who loved her, who’d craved her. Ten years and she still remembered the trail of freckles on his left shoulder, the raised scar on his stomach…and when he pulled her to him again and began undressing her, the wet heat growing inside of her made her weak. His smile told her what she already knew—they were in for a long night.
30 Days, 30 Stories - Day 30
"Are you listening to me?"
Nick blinked. He'd done it again. Dazed out while his sister Ellie was talking to him. It wasn't intentional. He hadn't slept well in days and she kept bringing up the past. He didn't want to talk about the past anymore. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand and muttered an apology. "Sorry, Ellie. What are we talking about again?"
"Boston," she said tersely. "I asked you if you're going to come home for Thanksgiving."
"That's months away." Nick kept his head down. An ant meandered between his feet. The back of his neck was wet with sweat. He hated the end of August almost as much as he hated thinking about going back to Boston. "Anyway, why can't you just come here?"
"I always come to you. It would be nice if you made an effort too."
We sound like an old married couple, he thought. He lifted his head now and was met with his younger sister's grimace. She was five years younger but sometimes it felt like she was the older sibling. Especially lately. She took care of so many practicalities.
"Have you got your ticket?" Nick stood up and stared into the darkness. A train whistle sounded in the distance. It was probably her train--the Northeast Regional that would carry her away from Richmond and whisk her back to Boston. She'd been here with him for two weeks and now he was ready to return to his normal life.
"Of course I have my ticket," she quipped. "I don't lose things."
"Don't be like this, Ellie." He turned back to her and ruffled her chestnut brown hair. She'd pulled it into a neat bun, just like she always wore it. He wished she'd let her hair down and stop worrying about him. "You know going back is hard for me."
"It's been five years though."
"Doesn't mean it's any easier."
"It's never going to be easier if you don't face it."
Other passengers were venturing out now, jostling for the perfect position to wait for the train's arrival. Nick took his sister's bags and moved aside. Ellie followed him. The air smelled wet. He was pretty sure it would rain soon. He could already feel the coolness of it in the heavy air.
"Did you forget anything at the house?"
"You know I didn't," she said and touched his shoulder. "I just...I know going back is hard for you. But it would be nice for my big brother to come and visit me. And everyone misses you."
"I know...I'll think about it."
"I'll even let you bring Rufus," she grinned. "He'll get his own room and everything."
"Rufus is a given. Where I go, he goes."
"So you'll come?"
"I'll think about it, Ellie. That's all I can promise right now."
"Okay," she conceded. "That's better than nothing."
The train pulled into the station, loud enough to drown out any attempts at conversation. They said their goodbyes and then Ellie hugged Nick so tightly he nearly gasped. "We'll see each other again soon," he assured her.
"We'll be okay."
She nodded and kissed his cheek. "Love you, big brother."
"Love you too, kid."
He watched as she showed her ticket to the conductor and then headed across the tracks to the northbound platform. Thunder rolled across the night sky and fat drops of rain began to splatter on the asphalt. But Nick didn't move. He wanted to make sure his kid sister was on the train and he wanted to see the train pull out of the station. So he stood there, ignoring the chatter of the others who were seeing off friends and loved ones, ignored the umbrellas snapping open around him. The signals clanged and announced the imminent departure of the Northeast Regional. As the train finally pulled out, Nick waved. He could just see Ellie through one of the mottled windows. She waved back, her expression hopeful and heartbreaking.
Maybe she was right. Maybe it was time for him to go home.
Nick blinked. He'd done it again. Dazed out while his sister Ellie was talking to him. It wasn't intentional. He hadn't slept well in days and she kept bringing up the past. He didn't want to talk about the past anymore. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand and muttered an apology. "Sorry, Ellie. What are we talking about again?"
"Boston," she said tersely. "I asked you if you're going to come home for Thanksgiving."
"That's months away." Nick kept his head down. An ant meandered between his feet. The back of his neck was wet with sweat. He hated the end of August almost as much as he hated thinking about going back to Boston. "Anyway, why can't you just come here?"
"I always come to you. It would be nice if you made an effort too."
We sound like an old married couple, he thought. He lifted his head now and was met with his younger sister's grimace. She was five years younger but sometimes it felt like she was the older sibling. Especially lately. She took care of so many practicalities.
"Have you got your ticket?" Nick stood up and stared into the darkness. A train whistle sounded in the distance. It was probably her train--the Northeast Regional that would carry her away from Richmond and whisk her back to Boston. She'd been here with him for two weeks and now he was ready to return to his normal life.
"Of course I have my ticket," she quipped. "I don't lose things."
"Don't be like this, Ellie." He turned back to her and ruffled her chestnut brown hair. She'd pulled it into a neat bun, just like she always wore it. He wished she'd let her hair down and stop worrying about him. "You know going back is hard for me."
"It's been five years though."
"Doesn't mean it's any easier."
"It's never going to be easier if you don't face it."
Other passengers were venturing out now, jostling for the perfect position to wait for the train's arrival. Nick took his sister's bags and moved aside. Ellie followed him. The air smelled wet. He was pretty sure it would rain soon. He could already feel the coolness of it in the heavy air.
"Did you forget anything at the house?"
"You know I didn't," she said and touched his shoulder. "I just...I know going back is hard for you. But it would be nice for my big brother to come and visit me. And everyone misses you."
"I know...I'll think about it."
"I'll even let you bring Rufus," she grinned. "He'll get his own room and everything."
"Rufus is a given. Where I go, he goes."
"So you'll come?"
"I'll think about it, Ellie. That's all I can promise right now."
"Okay," she conceded. "That's better than nothing."
The train pulled into the station, loud enough to drown out any attempts at conversation. They said their goodbyes and then Ellie hugged Nick so tightly he nearly gasped. "We'll see each other again soon," he assured her.
"We'll be okay."
She nodded and kissed his cheek. "Love you, big brother."
"Love you too, kid."
He watched as she showed her ticket to the conductor and then headed across the tracks to the northbound platform. Thunder rolled across the night sky and fat drops of rain began to splatter on the asphalt. But Nick didn't move. He wanted to make sure his kid sister was on the train and he wanted to see the train pull out of the station. So he stood there, ignoring the chatter of the others who were seeing off friends and loved ones, ignored the umbrellas snapping open around him. The signals clanged and announced the imminent departure of the Northeast Regional. As the train finally pulled out, Nick waved. He could just see Ellie through one of the mottled windows. She waved back, her expression hopeful and heartbreaking.
Maybe she was right. Maybe it was time for him to go home.
