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I’m out. I’ve got mixed feeling about being out. I’m happy to have made the bottom thirty and happy that I’ve done so well two years in a row but this story is barely started. Even though I’ve got most of the ground work laid out in my head on in a notebook I need time to sit and concentrate on getting the words down which at the moment I don’t have. Plus with it being connected with two others it tends to trigger scenes from the others and then I’m off on a tangent and well that ain’t good for getting it done. I need to get enough stuff out of the way to be able to write three books at once because I think that’s how this is going to work. With my US trip less than 9 weeks away I’m planning to pick up with Troy and Jolene when I get back. Or I might work on them while I’m in the US. Need to decide which story or stories will be getting the international treatment.

Even though I’m out I thought I’d share the unedited first section with you all. Next week I’ll give you a taste of Troy but for now you just get Jolene. Enjoy.

Cold trembling fingers reached out to trace the letters engraved on the headstone, the chilly marble slab the only tangible link to the family Jolene still missed. Ten years hadn’t even begun to numb the pain or take away the gaping hole in her heart. The years hadn’t answered the questions that screamed to be answered.

Set back from the rest of the graves, the stone sat under a shady tree. She’d picked the spot for the lack of light, her babies would never again enjoy the sunshine and neither would their final resting place. She knew it wasn’t a rational thing to want for them but at the time, and even now, it seemed fitting.

The icy pre-dawn wind blew across the ground and whistled between the marble, slate and sandstone that marked the lives of so many. In this place, surrounded by death, Jolene breathed the breath of the living-dead. She wasn’t physically buried in the soil with her family, but her soul was. If it hadn’t joined them the day they died, it had the day she killed the man responsible.

The courts ruled it self-defense. She wasn’t a murderer and could live her life a free woman. She didn’t feel free. She had taken a life. It had been kill or be killed and Jolene had come out the winner. But in the end he’d won. In the struggle for life and death her ex-husband hadn’t succeeded in taking her life. No, when she’d gladly taken his, he’d taken something far worse.

He’d taken her soul.


Categories: News, Writing
  1. February 18, 2009 at 1:34 am

    Okay. Going to see if this works (again!!!).

    I am so sorry you’re out. I love the blurb and wish things had gone better for you…

    I’ll tell you that another friend of mine was doing well in a similiar contest two years ago. She got knocked out, too. BUT, ended up selling another story within the year. So, here I am crossing fingers and toes that the same happens to you…

    Have a good one!!!


  2. February 18, 2009 at 2:20 pm

    Sorry you didn’t get into the next round, but you did really well. So yay for you. And a great first section… unedited you say? My goodness, that is just great.

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