Good day to you, friend!

We're closing in on the SECOND WEEK of Camp NaNoWriMo, and surprise, surprise! I'm ahead of my goal.  Shockingly. . .  {Also, I gotta say, I enjoy the less-stress atmosphere of Camp much more than NaNo in November.  heheh  It's certainly more my pace. :]}



Due to last week being the final week of my writerly link-up, I didn't share a Week 1 wrap-up of Camp.  It was a little more difficult hosting a prompt that bled into the first week of April---RIGHT as Camp started, and I've decided not to do that again come Summertime.  But thankfully, it didn't affect my writing for camp in any way.

So, now I'm here & I thought I'd share a few snippets with you from what I've written these two weeks.  Wanna sneak peek??

By the way, this is a brand-new WIP for me.  I first met the characters a few years ago, and I believe I wrote an excerpt or two somewhere featuring them, but the plot idea & the characters themselves were all rather shiny & wholly a concept story.  Now, I've fleshed them out a wee bit, gotten a gist of the story, & am working from there.  (Definitely winging it at the moment, though!  And does anyone else feel like you're betraying your other characters & WIPs by focusing on a different one or is it just me??)



Anywho, on to the tidbits!

           A sharp gasp of pain escaped her lips even with the desperate attempts to remain silent. One never knew who—or what—lurked in these abandoned buildings.
          Gingerly, she craned her head slightly to inspect the wound. Still no sign of healing—if anything, it was most certainly worse. She knew infection had set it despite all her efforts.
          A flash of memory berated her vision, but she blinked rapidly, willing it away.
          That safe house had been far from safe. And now they knew she'd survived.

Photo by Amanda Sandlin on Unsplash

          Could she really risk her life on such a thing? She was the number one, most wanted criminal in the world right now. There was no telling how high the bounty was for her head. Certainly high enough even the most respectable person would be tempted.
          She couldn’t take the chance.

          Opting for the confident stance of a woman in her lair over the turn-tail-and-run her body was screaming at her to do, she watched the door’s lock blink green, allowing the intruders entry, and prayed her appearance was more formidable than she felt. Her shoulder had yet to cease its throbbing. And it seemed standing made the pain all the more agonizing. Her aid kit had long since run out of meds.
          With her right arm completely useless, she gripped the Bygone pistol in her left hand, and held it hanging parallel to her leg. With luck, it would go unnoticed for however long was necessary. Shooting left-handed, however, was another matter. And now, with the pain full-force, she honestly didn’t think she had the strength to stand.
          How easy it would be to simply surrender.
          But gathering every ounce she had left, she straightened her spine and met the newcomers unflinchingly.

Photo by chuttersnap on Unsplash

          He replied calmly, “And neither do we.” She caught the flicker of his gaze as he took in her sidearm, and she marveled at his night vision. “You can put that away. We will not harm you.”
          Her smile was bitter, though they couldn’t possibly see from the fair distance separating them. “Forgive me, if I do not believe you.”
          He chuckled. “Understood. But give us some warning if you plan to shoot. Deal?”
          His words had a nice lilt in his accent. Sharp, but rather pleasant. And she sensed honesty.
          She relaxed. Slightly. “Agreed. Who are you?”

          These men looked genuine enough—but didn’t all bad guys seem that way at first?
          The taller one seemed to assess her as she lowered her weapon. But one suspicious move and she’d have it drawn again. Being constantly on the move had honed her reflexes considerably. Or perhaps she was simply being paranoid.

          Her eyes flashed. Were they part of the terrorist organization? But before she could pose the question, a fresh wave of pain hit and it was all she could do not to drop the gun, grasp her shoulder, and fall into a fetal position. Still, a small gasp escaped and she covered by shifting her weight to a different foot, hoping—praying—they didn’t notice.
          She caught Darrow’s momentary frown, but it passed over his features quickly. Warrick looked ready to explain his words, but she rallied her voice and stated as sharply as she could manage, “I have no use for terrorists. And they certainly have no use for me.” She lifted the pistol, hating how her vision was beginning to waver. “Now. Our deal said I’d tell you when I’d shoot. Well, you’ve got thirty seconds to clear out. So get going.”
          Just breathing was difficult now.
          And the pistol was growing heavy. “This place is occupied. But come back tomorrow—” The next wave caused her vision to flash—she had never felt such pain. With a gasp, she doubled over and dropped her gun.

That's all I have to share for now.  :]  Is it at all intriguing enough?  Everything I've written seems so rough & haphazardly tossed about, but that's what a first draft is like, isn't it?

So, what of you, dear bean?  Are you taking part in Camp?  Have you shared any snippets from your current project that I may have missed??  It's difficult at times to comment on all the blogs I follow (no matter HOW MUCH I WANT TO), but I so love seeing what others are up to in their writerly journeys.  

Happy writing, y'all!  And have a lovely weekend!!