Wednesday Work in Progress.
I envy those writers who can sit down to the computer, know their story, pound out the words and finish what they start. Nope, that's not me. For every story I finish I probably start 10. I'll get a few words or a few pages then the story fizzles and I want to write something else. I guess you could say I am a bit A.D.D when it comes to writing. I don't think I've ever finished a book where I didn't change at least one character's name at least one time. But my bad habits can sometimes work in my favor. When I'm stuck and not sure what to work on next, it's those past stories I go through to find my inspiration.
So...
As I share my work in progress with you, the names, places and title will most likely change. :)
Beautiful Storm - contemporary short story - nearly complete
(unedited - first draft)
Excerpt:
Adrian Beck sat on the beach, tunneling his toes into the warm white sand. The full moon pulled the tide in and called him to the sea. Here, in the tropical breezes of Long Caye, the stress of the city couldn’t find him. Self-imposed exile suited him well. Post 9-11 New York couldn’t compete with Belize Island. Perhaps nothing ever would. There was the crux of his problems. Once he’d lost his firm—lost everything, including those most important to him—he hadn’t felt the same zeal for life. He didn’t see the beauty in buildings anymore, didn’t want to.
The prodigy Adrian Beck, a winner of the American Architecture Award, was burned out. He’d closed his firm, what was left of it after the Trade Towers came down. He hadn’t wanted to rebuild, not after losing so much.
Closing his eyes, he let the balmy night air surround him. His open shirt billowed in the gentle wind. The crash and roll of the waves lulled him to a place where he embraced solitude.
Last week he’d received a phone call. Isa Clemet, developer of luxury casino resorts wanted a meeting. No amount of negotiations would get him back, but that didn’t seem to stop the tenacious billionaire from insisting on a face-to-face meeting. He chuckled. Post 9-11 merges with post Katrina. Not funny, but he couldn’t help seeing the humor. Clemet Casinos wanted to build on the coast in Biloxi, Mississippi. Ms. Clemet wanted the best—she wanted Adrian.
Too bad. Adrian had no intention of giving up his private piece of paradise.
Moonlight shimmered off the cresting waves. Tropical breeze coming off the sea cooled his skin. The salty tang on his lips did make him long for a woman to hold, to kiss, to spread her smooth legs and slide his restless cock into her hot welcoming sheath.
Adrian cursed. How long had it been since he’d had someone special in his life? Three maybe four years. Since before he came to Belize Island to escape the real world.
Gulls rustled in the leaves of the tropical foliage. The spongy sand popped and whispered to him—taunted him. Adrian had always compared a woman to the ocean. Sometimes she could be as fierce as a tropical storm, unpredictable and dangerous and other times calm and wet, like sailing on a cloudless day.
Adrian leaned forward and rested his arms on his bent knees. Movement on the water caught his eye. Silver shimmer stretched into the horizon. He squinted. A swimmer. Long limbs broke the surface. And if he wasn’t mistaken—a woman—swam closer.
A wave caught her and brought her to shore. She stood, a nude goddess born of the sea. His heart pounded. She emerged from the tide, water sluicing over her arousing form. He followed a bead of moisture down her face. Sculpted eyebrows arched over wide almond shaped eyes. At this distance, he couldn’t make out the color, but her skin was bronzed by the sun. Raking her fingers through her hair, she combed her long wet tresses away from her face. She paused and stared at him. Full luscious lips titled into a soft smile. Not a joyous grin, but a sinful smirk that hinted at mischief.
I'll be back later with another excerpt from my BDSM work in progress.
Happy Hump Day,
KyAnn
7 comments:
Great excerpt, KyAnn. I also have A.D.D. when it comes to writing stories. I think it's just a sign that it's not quite time for the forgotten stories.
Great teaser. I'm the same way with changing character names, etc. I get hung up on the smallest details!
Minx
I have given a character a name, loved it, then wrote to the sex and went, oh man that just isn't sexy. lol Then there are names that I knew one day I'd find a story for like Theron in the blood slaves series. It happens with titles too. I had the title Rough Justice before i even conceived the story.
Another excerpt from a work in progress. This one is contemporary BDSM.
Excerpt:
copyright KyAnn Waters 2010
The crack and snap of a whip sounded from behind the closed door across the hall. He hesitantly approached and listened. His own heartbeat thundered in his ears and his ragged breath heightened his awareness.
Muffled voices sounded from the room. A male and a female. He couldn’t discern what was said but the woman’s voice had a familiar tone. Cop instinct kicked in. Assess the conditions, move with caution, and control the situation. Jase turned the knob, opened the door and stepped into the room. Chills broke along his flesh.
“This is a private room.”
Jase vaguely heard the words. He couldn’t focus on anything but Miranda. She knelt naked on the floor, chest rounded over the top of her trim thighs and her forehead resting on her knees. Her blonde hair softly fell around her narrow shoulders and shielded her face from his view. Behind her back, braided rope restrained her arms. The rope wrapped her forearms, bound her wrists together and tied her wrists to her ankles. Her ankles were tucked tightly under her bare rounded bottom.
“Do you have a problem?” The man held a flogger in his hand. He tightened his grip and took a step toward Jase.
“Yeah.” With his first word, Miranda visibly trembled. “Were you with her two nights ago?”
“How is that any of your fucking business?” He tapped the flogger against his thigh. The tassels swished and Miranda whimpered. Red marks crisscrossed her bared back where the man had thrashed her with the flogger.
Jase slowly dragged his gaze from Miranda. “Oh, I assure you, she’s my business.” He grabbed his badge from his waistband and flashed his detective shield to the bare-chested man.
The guy cocked an eyebrow. “I guess that makes her your problem.”
“I asked you a question,” Jase repeated.
“Wasn’t me.”
“Then get out.”
“Whatever.” He tossed the flogger to a small bench. “Don’t be gentle. She likes it rough.” He crossed to a small closet and grabbed his shirt. He pulled it over his head and strode to the door. “Sorry love, I don’t need trouble.” His gaze met Jase’s. “In case you want to know, I haven’t fucked her.” He slipped out the door.
Jase squatted down on his haunches to see her face in the restrained submissive pose. “Are you okay?”
She didn’t speak.
“Miranda, answer me.”
“I’m fine.”
Jase sighed and clasped his hands together between his widespread thighs. “I don’t know what to say to you. I’m full of questions, yet I don’t really need you to answer. Finding you here tells me everything I should know, doesn’t it?”
Her heavy breaths seeped into his psyche. Heated flesh released the scent of her perfume. Beneath the subtle fragrance was the musky hint of her arousal. Still, she didn’t speak.
“When I ask you a question, I expect a response.”
She nodded.
“A verbal response,” he said a
little more sternly. “This is what you want?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
Emma - I feel you on the A.D.D. That is SO me, all the time.
KyAnn - Great excerpt! I've written half a book only to realize the heroine's name didn't work. A lot can be said about a character's name.
Michelle
Check out my NEW release Giveaways & author interviews every Tuesday & Thursday
KyAnn -- The second excerpt was HOT! I like the sense of tension conveyed in simple sentences.
Ex. Cop instinct kicked in. Assess the conditions, move with caution, and control the situation.
Man, you left me hanging there! I want to know what happens next. Does this one have a title yet?
Michelle
Check out my NEW release Giveaways & interviews every Tuesday & Thursday
It does have a title.
Miranda's Rights.
Here is the excerpt that plays off the title.
Excerpt:
Miranda's Rights
copyright KyAnn Waters 2010
Maybe she was broken. She needed a powerful man—a dangerous man—in her life, in her bed, but he had to be so much more. He had to demand from her, take what he wanted so she could be the woman to give pleasure to him.
“You don’t want me. This isn’t you, Jase.”
“Miranda, you have the right to remain silent—”
She jerked on her restraints. “You’re reading me my rights.”
He squatted in front of her. She swallowed at the site of his toned abdominals, muscular arms and heavy thighs. Dark hair dusted his pectorals and feathered into a thin ribbon of hair. Her gaze followed the trail to the waistband of his black denim jeans. She’d stared at the bulge of his cock often enough to know, at the moment, he was thick, erect and pressing into the zippered fly. He was aroused. Not that she questioned her appeal. She knew how her shorts and wedge sandals gave him an erection, but he’d discovered her bound and waiting to please her master.
He reached behind his back and pulled a pair of heavy metal cuffs from his pocket.
Her tongue felt thick, yet her body hummed. Danger glinted in his dark gray eyes and something more. Perhaps he did understand. Clicks from the handcuffs sent a shiver down her spine. The room was warm and getting hotter.
“Am I under arrest?”
“You’re under my control. You have the right to remain silent, however if you speak, you will be punished.”
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