The Writer's Voice

Cupid's Literary Connection is conducting an interesting contest this month.


As one of the participants, here is my entry:

Title: The Adamant
Genre: Adult Urban Fantasy

Summary: 

No one tells Shamira Kelley how to live her life. Not the parents who abandoned her. Or the ancient relic that seeks to bond with her.

First 250 words:

His lazy strides across the mall caught my attention. Like he had time to kill and everyone else could wait at his leisure. Most galling was how people moved out of his way. No glares. No commotion.

He appeared to be about my age, early twenties with black hair that curled just below the collar of his white shirt. With the body and gliding walk of a dancer, his physique should have been drawing stares.  But that wasn’t what piqued my interest. What set me off was his arrogance. Not his looks. Totally secondary. I barely noticed. Really.

Glances from the people in the crowded mall slid off, went around him like light bending around the source.

“Look, the gods have blessed us with one of their own,” I said to Olive, my former guardian.

She turned away from matching towels and shot a glance around us. At forty-two, Olive still has the body of a model but a fluff head she was not. Like me, she is wary of crowds.

“What?” she said.

I gestured. “That guy. The one walking like he thinks no one will touch him. He’s the picture of arrogance, isn’t he?”

Olive’s brow gathered as she focused on the area where the black-haired man paced unimpeded. He moved like a king among his subjects.

“Who?”

I gaped at her. “Him. That man. Strutting across the mall.”

I pointed.

Her gaze sharpened but then shifted to me again.

“I don’t see what you’re dithering about.” Olive shrugged.