WIP Wednesday
I haven't been writing much recently, and everything I have written has been either exchange fic or original stuff (I still have half a dozen prompts on Tumblr that I PROMISE I will get to....... eventually).
I always seem to burn out this time of year, both in terms of energy for writing and in terms of actually liking anything I've written, especially since I've been bouncing between three original projects and not really accomplishing all that much on any of them. And working on original novels always feels kind of like a pointless energy sink, because I don't know if they'll ever find an audience other than me.
ANYWAY.
This one in particular is something I've been messing around with on and off for a while, and right now it's one major scene edit from a coherent second draft.
Monster hunters for hire and nefarious schemes!
*
JT slammed the bay doors shut and circled to the other side of the van where Ethan was counting out their payment. His t-shirt was torn in several places, although the wounds beneath were already knitting back together. There wasn’t much that could damage Ethan in any kind of permanent way, and fortunately it looked like their two-timing erstwhile employer hadn’t had any idea what he was dealing with. “Did he stiff us?”
“Surprisingly, no,” Ethan said, and snapped a rubber band around the roll of cash before pocketing it. He turned the corpse over with one booted foot and looked down at the dead witch’s face for a moment. The man’s hands were red and wet to the wrist, where he’d had them shoved inside Ethan’s chest cavity less than ten minutes before. “I don’t think he was planning on letting us leave with the money anyway, somehow.”
JT snorted. “What gave you that impression?”
“Just a guess,” Ethan said, with a brief flickering smile that said plain as day that he wasn’t buying JT’s unruffled act one bit. That was okay. Ethan had always been able to see right through him, and he was pretty sure he’d earned a bit of a freak-out over this. He stepped up next to Ethan, slipping an arm around his bloody waist, rested his palm against the warm unbroken skin that was exposed there, and surveyed the body.
“What the hell are we going to do with him? Also, don’t say ‘I told you so’.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“You were thinking it.”
“It’s probably just as well that we didn’t call the Mendozas for this one,” Ethan allowed.
“No shit,” JT muttered. He wasn’t a huge fan of either of the Mendoza twins, but that didn’t mean he wanted them dead, and dead was exactly what anyone without Ethan’s supernatural hardiness would be right now. “I don’t like this.”
Ethan’s belly quaked slightly as he let out a snort. “What’s not to like?”
“Funny. No,” JT said. With some reluctance, he let go of Ethan to crouch down beside the witch. “I mean, we should have known that something was off with him before we took the job. It shouldn’t have come to this in the first place.”
I always seem to burn out this time of year, both in terms of energy for writing and in terms of actually liking anything I've written, especially since I've been bouncing between three original projects and not really accomplishing all that much on any of them. And working on original novels always feels kind of like a pointless energy sink, because I don't know if they'll ever find an audience other than me.
ANYWAY.
This one in particular is something I've been messing around with on and off for a while, and right now it's one major scene edit from a coherent second draft.
Monster hunters for hire and nefarious schemes!
*
JT slammed the bay doors shut and circled to the other side of the van where Ethan was counting out their payment. His t-shirt was torn in several places, although the wounds beneath were already knitting back together. There wasn’t much that could damage Ethan in any kind of permanent way, and fortunately it looked like their two-timing erstwhile employer hadn’t had any idea what he was dealing with. “Did he stiff us?”
“Surprisingly, no,” Ethan said, and snapped a rubber band around the roll of cash before pocketing it. He turned the corpse over with one booted foot and looked down at the dead witch’s face for a moment. The man’s hands were red and wet to the wrist, where he’d had them shoved inside Ethan’s chest cavity less than ten minutes before. “I don’t think he was planning on letting us leave with the money anyway, somehow.”
JT snorted. “What gave you that impression?”
“Just a guess,” Ethan said, with a brief flickering smile that said plain as day that he wasn’t buying JT’s unruffled act one bit. That was okay. Ethan had always been able to see right through him, and he was pretty sure he’d earned a bit of a freak-out over this. He stepped up next to Ethan, slipping an arm around his bloody waist, rested his palm against the warm unbroken skin that was exposed there, and surveyed the body.
“What the hell are we going to do with him? Also, don’t say ‘I told you so’.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“You were thinking it.”
“It’s probably just as well that we didn’t call the Mendozas for this one,” Ethan allowed.
“No shit,” JT muttered. He wasn’t a huge fan of either of the Mendoza twins, but that didn’t mean he wanted them dead, and dead was exactly what anyone without Ethan’s supernatural hardiness would be right now. “I don’t like this.”
Ethan’s belly quaked slightly as he let out a snort. “What’s not to like?”
“Funny. No,” JT said. With some reluctance, he let go of Ethan to crouch down beside the witch. “I mean, we should have known that something was off with him before we took the job. It shouldn’t have come to this in the first place.”