Lucky Seven Meme

Chandara tagged me with the Lucky Seven.

• Go to page 77 of your current MS
• Go to line 7
• Copy down the next 7 lines - sentences or paragraphs - and post them as they're written. 
• No cheating

"Like the credit card."

I wasn't the only one startled when Faelan's words cut through the tension. His hooded eyes gleamed from under dark brows.

"Priceless," he said with a wry smile.

June sputtered then stalked toward him. "Looking for a sugar momma are you youngster?" Her face twisted in malice. "You need to stay out of this and keep..."

Her voice died. She came to a quivering stop.

Faelan hadn't moved.

 What is the title of your current WIP? Tell us about it.  

THE ADAMANT is about blacksmith Shamira Kelley a woman possessed by a pendant made from a unicorn’s horn that seeks payback from mankind for its millenniums-old death.

When did you start blogging and why?  

Two years last month. Blogging is a much better solution than a website, easier to keep fresh and update.

If you could do anything tomorrow, what would you do? 

I’d love to see the Northern Lights.

Describe your happy place. 

Sitting in my front yard, warm sun on my face and a dog under my hand.

What was your first happy memory?  

After coming home from work, my tired dad drove me ten miles to see the Christmas lights in town.

What was the scariest thing you've ever done? 
After I toured a wax museum in Hannibal, Mo, I was shaking. I don’t know why, but those wax figures totally freaked me out. I was about to go Hattie Hysterical on ‘em and use my fingernails to claw my way out.

Where is the strangest place you ever had an idea for a story?  

Driving seventy down a busy interstate. The idea for a climatic ending smacked me upside the head and I nearly lost control of my pickup.

Where do you write? 

Messy, paper-strewn computer table in the living room. Try writing with the spouse yelling, “Hey, come see this. ESPN’s top plays are on.”

If you just won a ticket to anywhere in the world and you had to take me, where would you take me and why?  

Scotland. The British Isles fascinates me. I love me some castles and ancient history.

The five Lucky Seven recipients that I admire most are:

Jenn (Substitute photography for writing)

1000^th Monkey

David Powers King

Tara

Magan

Clarissa

Honorable Mention goes to

Angela since *drat* someone beat me to her.

Apathy's Hero, Critique Partner Blogfest

The Critique Partner Blogfest entry.

Genre: Contemporary Fantasy. The Adamant

Status: Completed. Polished. In the paranoid, neurotic stage of 'is this good enough'.

Feedback: I am looking for understandable prose, flow, and everything in between. Line editing would tickle me fine. Looking for help on my query, synop, and first chapter and willing to do the same.

Pitch: A sentient relic made from the horn of a unicorn believes Shamira Kelley is its willing acolyte but possession doesn't sit well and she fights the relic and those who would use it against mankind

First Two Pages:

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, height under six feet. With the body of a dancer, slender waist, and broad shoulders, 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.

“Will you look at that,” I said to Olive, my former guardian.

She turned away from matching towels, threw me a hard look, and shot a quick glance around us.

Olive has experience with my intricacies. Self-preservation is strong with her.

Slender, taller than me, with shoulder length honey-blonde hair, Olive looked younger than her forty-two years. But even with the body of a model, a fluff head she was not. 

 “What?” she said, her voice low.

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 shapely 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. “You have the weirdest notions.” She huffed and went back to sorting through towels. “Which do you think? Peacock blue or this aqua?”

“That guy,” I said. For some reason it was important that she acknowledge me. “The one walking there. Those shoppers just moved out of his way.”

“So? A man is walking across the mall. Why is that arrogant?” She wasn’t paying attention, still measuring one color of blue against another.

A couple had paused with a stroller in the man’s path then casually shuffled out of his path like magnets of opposite polarity.

“You don’t see that?” My voice rose into a higher octave.

Olive made an exasperated sound. “I see shoppers. I see people,” she said shortly then gave me a hard look. “Why? What do you see?”

“A guy, white shirt, long sleeves, black jeans. Right there,” I said and gestured with one hand, “parting the masses like King Kong. Everyone just moves out of his way.”

The arrogant man had stopped to watch a bunch of teens that braided around him. He was smirking behind his hand. Kids towed their harried parents to one side making crow-like calls of excitement.

Olive’s attention was on the teens not the man. I had an inclination to stomp my foot.

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I am willing to trade query, synop, first chapter with CPs and betas in my field of fantasy/sci-fi. YA is fine but I am not good with MG.

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*Book Cover photo is with permission of my good and valiant friend Jenn at Into the Wild Blue Yonder.*