Why yes, I am evil.
I have this thing. This thing where the beginning of a book screws with me, even though I know exactly where I'm going and why. For some reason, oftentimes I have to skip ahead and write out a scene from later in the book first. I don't know why, and often that scene will get rewritten once I reach it in the book. But for some reason, it pulls me into the story and the characters firmly enough to get me past my personal bane: the beginning. Then I can go back and pick up that first thread, and write until I've reached that future spot. It's weird, but it works for me.
Hence why the first chapter of Consort has yet to be finished, but chapter 8 or whatever it will end up being is almost done.
Mostly I write in order, and mostly that works best for me. But sometimes this is necessary for me to fall into the book and get the words down.
Which is why I have this snippet to post. Even though it could change a little when I really get there in the book, the actual action of the scene is exactly what will be happening:
(Er...warning to beta readers, it's semi-spoilery, if you thought Mercy and Reaper's relationship was going to be all smooth sailing after Nemesis. But I'm sure you didn't really think that, right?)
“What is it?” asked Atrea at her back.
“Reaper,” she said. “Varen was distracting me for a reason, and his cousin went with Reaper.”
She didn’t know what she expected, why she was so alarmed and worried. The woman hadn’t seemed particularly threatening, and even if she was, surely Reaper was more than capable of taking care of himself. But that didn’t stop her from rushing out of the lounge to look for him, or from reaching out for his mind. She found him mentally an instant before she saw him physically, out in the corridor. Shocked, she stumbled to a halt, and just stood in the middle of the walkway, staring.
She was vaguely aware of Atrea’s soft gasp behind her, but mostly all she knew was Reaper.
He stood against the wall, the woman literally draped over him, her leg wrapped around his so she could press herself against him intimately, her arms wound about his neck, and her tongue halfway down his goddamn throat.
And mentally…there was nothing in his thoughts but the haze of arousal and sex. Far from struggling, Reaper was kissing Flores back, his hands threaded through that tumble of dark hair as he held her tightly against him.
“Holy shit,” said Atrea softly.
Mercy didn’t say anything. She was, for one of the rare moments in her life, utterly speechless. She didn’t think Reaper even knew she was there. And for the first time since Hadrian, she felt something ugly and dark rise up in her throat to choke her. More than anger, it clawed at her insides and brought bright pain blooming with it. Jealousy.
Fucking hell. She was jealous over Reaper.
“What do you want to do?” asked Atrea.
Drag that fucking bitch off him and out the nearest airlock.
Mercy turned around, the back of her hand pressed to her mouth as she swallowed the words back. Atrea’s eyes flicked over her face.
“Mercy?”
“I don’t…I don’t know.” She paused, meeting the other woman’s eyes, aware her own must have shown how shattered she was. It had simply never occurred to her that Reaper would sleep with anyone else. And even if it had, she’d never been jealous when, say, Demon had slept with other women back when they’d shared a bed. This was a startlingly new and unexpected emotion. One she didn’t feel equipped to handle. “It’s not like the Consort relationship is monogamous. I don’t have the right to do anything.”
Atrea studied her for a moment, then looked past her at the couple in the hallway. Mercy heard Flores moan softly, felt through the link as she rubbed herself against Reaper, the sharp spike in his desire. She flinched, and cut herself off from her Consort.
“Fuck that,” said Atrea, low and hard, and strode past Mercy toward them.
Hence why the first chapter of Consort has yet to be finished, but chapter 8 or whatever it will end up being is almost done.
Mostly I write in order, and mostly that works best for me. But sometimes this is necessary for me to fall into the book and get the words down.
Which is why I have this snippet to post. Even though it could change a little when I really get there in the book, the actual action of the scene is exactly what will be happening:
(Er...warning to beta readers, it's semi-spoilery, if you thought Mercy and Reaper's relationship was going to be all smooth sailing after Nemesis. But I'm sure you didn't really think that, right?)
“What is it?” asked Atrea at her back.
“Reaper,” she said. “Varen was distracting me for a reason, and his cousin went with Reaper.”
She didn’t know what she expected, why she was so alarmed and worried. The woman hadn’t seemed particularly threatening, and even if she was, surely Reaper was more than capable of taking care of himself. But that didn’t stop her from rushing out of the lounge to look for him, or from reaching out for his mind. She found him mentally an instant before she saw him physically, out in the corridor. Shocked, she stumbled to a halt, and just stood in the middle of the walkway, staring.
She was vaguely aware of Atrea’s soft gasp behind her, but mostly all she knew was Reaper.
He stood against the wall, the woman literally draped over him, her leg wrapped around his so she could press herself against him intimately, her arms wound about his neck, and her tongue halfway down his goddamn throat.
And mentally…there was nothing in his thoughts but the haze of arousal and sex. Far from struggling, Reaper was kissing Flores back, his hands threaded through that tumble of dark hair as he held her tightly against him.
“Holy shit,” said Atrea softly.
Mercy didn’t say anything. She was, for one of the rare moments in her life, utterly speechless. She didn’t think Reaper even knew she was there. And for the first time since Hadrian, she felt something ugly and dark rise up in her throat to choke her. More than anger, it clawed at her insides and brought bright pain blooming with it. Jealousy.
Fucking hell. She was jealous over Reaper.
“What do you want to do?” asked Atrea.
Drag that fucking bitch off him and out the nearest airlock.
Mercy turned around, the back of her hand pressed to her mouth as she swallowed the words back. Atrea’s eyes flicked over her face.
“Mercy?”
“I don’t…I don’t know.” She paused, meeting the other woman’s eyes, aware her own must have shown how shattered she was. It had simply never occurred to her that Reaper would sleep with anyone else. And even if it had, she’d never been jealous when, say, Demon had slept with other women back when they’d shared a bed. This was a startlingly new and unexpected emotion. One she didn’t feel equipped to handle. “It’s not like the Consort relationship is monogamous. I don’t have the right to do anything.”
Atrea studied her for a moment, then looked past her at the couple in the hallway. Mercy heard Flores moan softly, felt through the link as she rubbed herself against Reaper, the sharp spike in his desire. She flinched, and cut herself off from her Consort.
“Fuck that,” said Atrea, low and hard, and strode past Mercy toward them.