September 22, 2013
Okay, I have to take a break from mentioning what's going on during my favorite shows to completely toot my horn over making apple butter for the first time and having it turn out totally awesome! Seriously, if it passes the man and kids test, it's pretty much a 'write it down for posterity' kind of deal. LOL
Tonight's post is from Utter Not a Word and it's one of my favorite types of fiction, writing wise. I love to take a word or phrase and set the tone of the whole manuscript with it. In this story, the main characters take something of a journey, growing and stretching until they fit together so well, they have to blend. J
Here's the tagline:
Maren Roth is reeling over the loss of her oldest friend after a skirmish with an opposing faction goes horribly wrong. Wayne Edelman, a superior adept with the responsibility of their sect resting in his hands, offers comfort and support in a very unexpected way and Maren realizes the man has become an expert on reading her moods. With a huge battle brewing, she takes solace in the concept that together with Wayne, they might have a fighting chance at winning.
And the preview snippet…
Maren nudged Wayne with her knee. "Move over."
His eyes blinked open but he didn't argue, scooting to the rear of the berth, letting her crawl in under the covers. She gave him credit. He didn't wrap an arm around her or spoon up against her. And he wanted to, she knew it with certainty. But he'd wait. Bide his time until she relaxed, which might be never, or in five minutes.
She had no clue.
At least she'd sleep. The sound of his breathing would soothe and lull her into slumber. The heat from his body would warm the chill she couldn't quite shake. And the solid, quiet strength of him would prop her up and get her through another night and carry over to the next day. He wouldn't ask how she felt, or if she needed anything, or whether something had gone wrong.
He'd hold back, and let her open up when she could face the situation head on. A new, and frankly odd, experience. Maren didn't know when Wayne got hip to her, when he started to read her moods so damn well she didn't have to speak a word.
But she appreciated it.
Someday she'd have to tell him in plain terms.
But not tonight. She craved the comfort and warmth he provided. The safe haven only he seemed able to create.
Reaching out, she found his hand, palm up, and she laced their fingers together. The connection steadied her and soothed her weary heart.
She yawned then sighed, finally letting her mind calm. "Thank you."
Wayne didn't speak. He squeezed her hand then hauled her close, tucking her head under his chin. Maren burrowed close and her eyes drifted shut, the events of the day slowly seeping away under the rhythmic beating of Wayne's heart and his slow, even breathing.
Order from chaos. Courage born of despair. Wayne equaled light at the end of her very dark road and Maren held on, relishing his ability to just be there.
And utter not a word.
I'm not one hundred percent certain how this one is going to work out, but Maren's on the right track. Wouldn't you agree?
That's it for this week.