Welcome to the second half of the year!
July 1st is the exact midpoint. I hope 2026 has been good to you so far…and if it hasn’t, I hope it turns around right this minute.
Yesterday afternoon, I got the shooting schedule for the Hallmark movie adaptation of my book, which was so wild! In a few weeks, I will be flying out to Vancouver and then taking a car to Langley, because I’ll be visiting the location near Fort Langley. A production coordinator is booking my hotel for me, and I’m glad to have him as a contact so I don’t get lost. 🙂
And here’s another fun thing: Writer’s Digest is reprinting an article I wrote (and paying me a small honorarium) for a digital romance guide they’re creating. You can check out the article if you want to, and if you didn’t read it before: it’s “5 Things That Make a Hallmark Story.”
Anyway, let’s get into WIP Wednesday, where I share a snippet of a work in progress and invite you to do the same!
These are the rules:
•Limit your excerpt to 400 words or fewer. Otherwise, I might trim it.
•Don’t link to work for sale. However, you can link to your website or a social media account!
•No graphic sex or violence. Salty language is fine!
•Avoid making criticisms or suggestions on other people’s work, including mine, because we’re sharing work that’s still rough. But it’s good writer luck to leave some encouraging words!
Once I visit the Hallmark movie set, I’m going to be obsessed with writing my romcom…which mostly takes place on a Hallmark movie set! This trip is going to be an amazing research opportunity, and I’ll take a ton of notes.
But in the meantime, I’m working on my thriller. For this month’s excerpt, I’ll stick with the business travel theme! Claudia, an executive assistant, has learned that she’s getting fired at the end of the week, and she’s sabotaging her bosses.
It takes me a couple of hours, but in the end, I’m pretty proud of Kimberly’s new travel arrangements to Singapore.
The flight out has two connections, in San Francisco and Seoul, with a six-hour layover in Seoul. All in all, it’s twenty-six hours of flying time. It’s possible she’ll notice how messed-up this is the day before she leaves. But given the fact that she once yelled at Bonnie from an airport for choosing the wrong flight, there’s at least a chance she won’t.
She’s now booked at a cheap motel, rated 2.1 stars on a travel site. Reviewers say things like cockroaches in the bathroom, more like a jail cell, and room was so mouldy I couldn’t breathe. She may try to book something else the minute she sees this place, but it won’t be easy, since she will be arriving at one in the morning, and her first meeting is at eight.
I recall another email chain. Kimberly had an invitation to speak at a conference for women leaders. Several organizers were copied. Get back to them and make an excuse, she said to me in an email. I’m not doing these rah-rah things any more.
It’s so easy to accidentally “reply all.” People do it all the time.
So I respond: I think it sounds like an inspiring event, but okay! I’ll tell them you have another commitment. Then I schedule the send for Monday morning. Reply all. Oops!
As an afterthought, I cancel Kimberly’s upcoming hotel reservation in Las Vegas—the Palazzo at the Venetian. I replace it with what looks to be the hilariously named Palace Motel, which, judging from the reviews, may be the shittiest motel in Vegas. Like the place where former showgirls go to OD. Or at least, if they meet Kimberly, they’ll want to. Kimberly will probably check her travel arrangements after her Singapore trip. Still, it’s worth a try.
It’s Peter’s turn. The next quarterly board meeting? Let’s delete that from the calendar. The mid-year one-on-one with the CEO? Delete. Crucial emails about the merger? Delete, delete, delete.
Kimberly’s gaze drifts toward me, and I smile and give a little wave. Her blue eyes become slits. I haven’t smiled at her in weeks.
She’s standing in front of what was once Bonnie’s desk, and a fresh wave of rage crashes over me. Kimberly literally GOT AWAY WITH MURDER.
I am really hoping to make a lot of progress on this one in July! I bought a packet of tiny smiley face stickers, and every day that I write 1,000 new words, I’ll put a smiley face sticker on the calendar.
If you’re in the mood, share something of your own below…
OR, tell us about your summer writing goals, or whatever else is in store for the month, if you feel like it! Thanks so much for stopping by, and have a great rest of your week!
Just flying in to say congratulations!! Hallmark Movie!!! I think it’s every romance writers dream. So happy to see it coming to fruition for such a well deserving human being.
Ahh, thank you Christina! You are so kind. I appreciate it!
I’m working on my next suspense book “Hunting Ted Bundy” that takes place the beginning of 1978 in the Northwest. It is about a nineteen year old who’s sister disappears outside of Butte, Montana a day after Ted Bundy escapes from Colorado. Here is the end of the first chapter:
Jill crawled inside her Mustang and turned on the engine. Jacking the heat high, she flipped on the car radio to her favorite FM station. Jim Croce’s “Time in a Bottle” was just ending.
She put the car into drive and pulled onto the street. Her favorite new band, Fleetwood Mac, came on the radio, and she cranked up the volume. “Don’t Stop Thinking About Tomorrow,” she sang along.
Turning left onto Fifteenth Street, she stopped at the light on Sherman. A car’s headlights came up fast on her bumper. The person’s head in the car behind her bounced up and down. Once the light turned green, she pulled onto Sherman heading north to work.
The man followed in a light-colored Volkswagen Beetle. He put his blinker on to go around her, then slowed when he got even with her car. A tan Volkswagen Beetle. A chill skittered down her arms. Wasn’t that the kind of car the newspapers had associated with Ted Bundy and the disappearance of numerous women in Washington years ago? The man rolled down his passenger window. His dark hair blew in the breeze.
It couldn’t be. Would he have had enough time to get up this far? Probably not, but this guy was definitely being creepy.
She gripped her car keys, swinging from the ignition. If someone wanted trouble, they’d find it. She’d taken a self-defense course offered by the college where she learned that a key in her fist made a good weapon.
She caught another red light and glanced over at him. His unblinking eyes stared directly at her.
She jerked her attention away, then back. He was still staring.
Her pulse pounded to the music. When the light turned green, she stomped the gas pedal, causing the Mustang to fishtail, but she got control quickly.
When she glanced back, the Volkswagen had turned left across Sherman and vanished. It was gone, vanished into the winter night. The heat in the Mustang felt suffocating as Jill tried to steady herself. It was just a guy. Just a dark-haired guy in a common car, being stupid.
Still, her pulse thundered. The fear was slow to drain from her body.
Here she was, letting her imagination get the better of her. Or was she? What if she’d just sped away from the most wanted man in America?
Hi Kathryn! Thank you so much for sharing! I love the perfect period details, like the models of cars and the songs on the radio. Love her attitude, too (“If someone wanted trouble, they’d find it”) and “her pulse thundered.” Great project!
Go Claudia! I adore this form of revenge, especially the reply all oops. How exciting about visiting the set and then getting to use the experience for a rom com project. So cool!
I’m working on a bonus chapter (maybe an eventual epilogue?) kind of a teaser for my paranormal romance series. Here’s an excerpt of Daxton and Lilith heading off on their own research excursion to a kink club:
When Daxton caught sight of her, she saw the heat flash in his hazel eyes, and then he did the thing she liked most about the young werelion: he made her laugh and set her nerves at ease. He swept a gesture to his own leather pants, as if they shared a wicked secret. Then he clutched his chest and made as if a series of arrows were stabbing into his heart as she walked toward him. The pair of them looked like Danny and Sandy in the final scene of Grease. A witch librarian and a werelion playing dress up to gather information about a lost poem at a kink club. What could go wrong?
“Lilith.” Dax palmed his chest as if in pain.“Daxton.”
“You look like vampire bait.” He ushered her into the passenger door and closed it gently.
“Tell me about it, stud.” She smiled sweetly through the open window and he took one more arrow to the heart one-handed before stage-staggering to his door. Goddess, no man had ever made her laugh and feel sexy at the same time. It ruffled her, and Lilith did not like emotional chaos. Leave that to the young and dumb.
“I’m serious, Lilith.” Daxton turned to her as they pulled into traffic. “I know that you’ve been to Rattendans once before, but not for one of Valentijn’s moon balls.” The werelion eyed her again, then sniffed the air. “Are you wearing perfume?”
“The moon doesn’t have balls, Dax.”
Daxton huffed a laugh and looked over to her once again. His face went serious as he stopped for a red light. He reached across the seat and picked up her right arm gently by the elbow, then brought the crook of it to his nose. Lilith’s heart hammered at the contact. He trailed his nose along the sensitive skin of her inner arm, breathing in, then gave a warm, satisfied sound that seemed to come from the back of his throat.
You are an exquisite human being. Generous and prolific among other things. Creative, and so giving to other authors. Do you have a PO Box you could DM me? I want to send you a copy of the children’s book you edited for me. It’s not ready yet but in a few months.
Jill! You are way too kind, as always. I am so excited about your children’s book! Email me! It’s bryndonovan1@gmail.com . I hope everything is going well with you!
This is a great idea, Bryn, and huge congrats on the Hallmark movie!!!
Thank you, Becky! And thank you for reading! I hope the summer is treating you right!
Yes, it is! Thanks, Bryn:)
Bryn, enjoy Canada! This WIP is later in Chapter 1 of “Good Cop, Bad Detective”:
The two-seater Ferrari halted. I caught my breath at its flawless paintjob of lipstick red on black, the fruit of craftsmen back home, well, northern Italy. I wanted to be proud of this wheeled beauty costing years of my patrolman’s salary.
A girlish face peered out a window but pulled back after eye contact.
I stepped out. My mentor ‘Old Man Simpson’ taught approaching deliberately. “Let them hear your heels.” Its engine purred.
The cinnamon-haired, beer-scented driver turned his Lake Michigan blue eyes at me in a fixed gaze. His square jaw posed a Cheshire grin.
“You ran the light.” Simpson taught entrapping suspects. I shot leading questions about drinking and disco biscuits—slang for Quaaludes. He feigned ignorance.
I leaned forward. “How fast were you driving?”
“You got a radar speed gun?”
The girl chuckled while my neck warmed.
He drummed the steering wheel. “CPD has six cars with radar guns, and they’re only used on LSD.”
Lake Shore Drive, not the drug. Did he have an “in” within the CPD?
“Your word against a college man.”
My head buzzed with anger. “You got an appointment with a breathalyzer.” Dispatch chattered on my police radio.
The kid leaned towards his skinny passenger, pretty in a violet clubbing dress. “Watch this.” He spun back. “Fuzz Man, no can do.”
My skin blazed. “Why the hell not?” I scrutinized the kid’s deadpan face.
“Dad.”
My uniform felt too small. Suspects talked back, talked back plenty. But this kid’s attitude brought back every schoolyard bully I’d suffered at Saint Catherine. “I don’t care if your father’s the pope. You smell blitzed, and caused an accident.”
He laughed. “You know Jack Lynch?’”
The kid looked a little like Jack Lynch, our alderman—maybe a lot. Crap.
“Dad says I’m alderman after him and then, your future mayor. Word from the bird!” He grinned. The girl oohed.
I balled up my fists. I could yank him out and smack him against the Ferrari. Squeeze the handcuffs on too tight. Many cops would slug your face and tell everyone you tripped.
He reached for the ball atop his stick shift. “It’s been a slice!”
I seized his bony arm. I moved my other hand to my holster.
The girl’s murmuring evaporated. The kid vacated his smile.
I raised my service revolver to his temple.
His wide eyes darted from my killer stare to the barrel pressed so tightly against his skull the skin lumped like a bedspread under a heavy laundry basket. Sweat beads dripped from his forehead.
“I’ll blast your brains all over her face.”
Hi John! You must research this story for HOURS to get all these details right. I know I always say this, but it’s so authentic and I just love that. Great dialogue and great, gritty crime scene here!
Congrats on the Hallmark gig. Hope more of your works follow. Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice iseries will be on Netflix soon. So, I am querying an adaptation. Following is the first page or so.
Colonel Fitzwilliam is waiting for his aunt and cousin and, lacking anything else to do, he is kicking rocks into a pile near the carriage. Then, he brushes a piece of lint from his sleeve of appropriate travel clothes of an early nineteenth-century English gentleman. He expected the soon to arrive two ladies to wear fancy dresses. So, Colonel didn’t want to hear his aunt’s wrath criticizing his appearance.
After careful consideration, he is delaying his return to his home, as he was escorting the two ladies to their home, Rosing Park. They had spent the holidays with their family at Pemberley, the home of Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth Darcy. He smiled and bowed when the ladies arrived to board the coach. “Good morning, Ladies.” They nodded.
By holding her elbow, he assisted his aunt Lady Catherine de Bourgh, up the steps into her expensive, plush carriage, knowing she demanded proper etiquette from him. Then, with a loving smile, Colonel extended his hand, assisting his cousin and bride-to-be, Anne de Bourgh, to the seat across from her mother. He followed the two ladies and sat beside Anne. A footman closed the door. Knowing his Aunt Catherine would be critical about the family’s Christmas, he chuckled. She will be amusing.
“What a wonderful holiday week with the Darcys! I enjoyed seeing Pemberley so beautifully decorated. The food was delicious, and I enjoyed the ball last night. What fun!!! The couples danced to music played by only the best professional musicians Darcy could hire. The ball gowns of the ladies were a rainbow of colors. Of course, the candlelight made our lavish jewelry sparkle.” Her eyes twinkled. “I attended balls often at Pemberley when I was younger. Fitzwilliam’s father, George, and my sister, Lady Anne, held elaborate balls often.”
Colonel chuckled thinking he should have expected Aunt Catherine to be contrary.
“Anne dear, please adjust your hat. It’s not on straight. Sit up and don’t slouch, please.” Lady Catherine’s critical voice was well-known by her daughter.
Hi Diane! I love getting Colonel Fitzwilliam’s point of view. I always wanted to know more about him! You do a good job of getting that historical flavor, even in his internal monologue. I hope you have success with querying! Thanks so much for sharing 🙂 And thanks for the good wishes!
Hi Brynn. (first time commenter/long time lurker) Oh man, this excerp is so good! I love Claudia. Hope it doesn’t backfire on her though. [guess I’ll just have to buy the book as soon as it’s released to find out] The Hallmark set visit sounds exciting! If you get a chance, visit the Fort Langley National Heritage Site. it might inspire a pioneer-era romance? Congrat again on the movie deal! Have a great time in my backyard Brynn! I’m putting in a request with the universe that you have the kind of weather Vancouver likes to brags about. Stay safe.
Hi Margaret! Thanks for the encouragement on this new project 🙂 I think I will get to visit Fort Langley! Any weather that’s cooler than Chicago is right now will be extremely welcome, haha. Have a wonderful rest of your week!
Hi Bryn, can’t wait for the movie! So exciting! Congrats! do you know if sharing WIPs here will prohibit us from submitting to potential agents/publishers (since there’s often a clause about work being original and unpublished)?
I had a recent medical diagnosis that forced me to leave my second job. I need to find a new one where I can work from home very part-time with a flexible schedule. In the meantime I need to start working on my certifications for this year’s medicare and aca open enrollment.
I’m trying to figure out how to work my writing time into that. I feel guilty writing when I don’t have my second job that pays the rest of the bills, but there are so few jobs out there I know it’s not reasonable to expect to get one quickly.
Anyone have recommendations for a good balance? (Or a job recommendation, haha!)
Andrea, I am so very sorry to hear about the medical diagnosis and your having to leave your second job. Navigating ACA open enrollment is no fun, I know, and I’m sure the same is true of Medicare. I hope you find a flexible part-time job soon! Please don’t feel guilty about writing. Maybe the silver lining of all this is that you have a little more time to do it! If you aren’t already set up on FlexJobs.com, that might be one good place to look. Sending all the good wishes for health and abundance your way!
ooh, devious!
🙂
I love your WIP above. Revenge is in the air!
Haha, thank you! There is so much revenge in this story! 🙂
My upcoming new Work in Progress is told from the viewpoint of Ruby, a young woman whose best friend Amy has gone hiking in the wilderness with Craig (Amy’s boyfriend).
Ruby discovers an urgent piece of information that she needs to pass on to Amy as soon as possible; only for her to not be able to reach Amy, since the latter’s phone is switched off!
When Ruby makes the difficult decision to drive to the trailhead and search for Amy before it’s too late, she realises every second counts. On top of that, the unfamiliar terrain causes her anxiety to return…
Hi Amy! Oh, this sounds like something I would read the heck out of! I love the layer of the unfamiliar terrain and her anxiety. Have fun writing!
Congrats on the movie, Bryn! That’s such a dream come true. Be sure to keep us updated 🙂
This excerpt is a fight scene, where my main character, Willow, is trying to escape from some assassins and has to fight her way past a few “zombie junkies” in the forest leading to the train station. Writing fight scenes is such a challenge, and there are a lot in this book.
—– From Chapter 4, Banglar Station:
Willow pushed herself up off the ground and stood, hands, face, and legs covered in mud. The dude was right in front of her, blocking her access to the path, and he was holding a rusty six-inch combat knife with a bone-sawing edge. “Crazy girl try’n to kick me?”
“Just let me be on my way,” Willow said, keeping her eyes locked on his and the knife hand in her peripheral vision. In a fight, the eyes always lead the attack. “I won’t cause you any trouble.”
“Ain’t gonna happen, li’l girl,” he cackled, waving the knife back and forth. “Gives me the backpack, an’ maybes I only hurts ya a little.”
The idiot looked high as a kite, and Willow found his bloodshot eyes hard to read, but that only made him more dangerous. Still, there was no way she was giving him her backpack. Her mother once told her that when she was in real danger, she shouldn’t be afraid to fight dirty.
That seemed like appropriate advice right now.
She shot her arm up and waggled her fingers in the air above her head to distract him—a dumb trick that rarely worked, but it did in this case. His gaze turned up to her hand, and with his eyes averted, she whipped her foot out in a crescent kick to send his knife hand to the side. With the same foot, for the fighting dirty part, she delivered a powerful front snap kick right into his groin. He folded forward, yelping, and she used a double palm strike against the top of his head to send him backward. Unfortunately, he hadn’t dropped his knife, and as he fell, he lashed out with it, catching Willow off guard. She didn’t have time to dodge, and the blade cut a small gash in her elbow.
“You idiot!” She cried as the dude landed on the ground, hands between his legs, cursing and curled into a ball.
Anger and pain raced through her as crimson droplets fell onto the mud at her feet. Even though it would have felt good, she resisted the urge to kick him again while he was down; that was against the code of conduct she had been taught.
She glared at the other two losers standing six feet away and shouted, “You want some, too?”
Shaking their heads, they backed away.
Hi Fred! You are really prolific, and it’s inspiring to me! I think you’re doing a great job of writing realistically about how a girl beats a guy in a fight. I don’t know what “zombie junkies” are, but I look forward to finding out. 🙂 Have a wonderful rest of your week!
Excited to hear Knight is getting a film; would be eager to know what liberties the studio takes on it; James Patterson in his Masterclass said once the studios get it you have no control, but you mentioned you worked for Hallmark so hopefully they honor your vision.
I’m returning to my long overdue story that I’ve been talking about forever and yet don’t really progress on. Here’s the first bit I’ve written in what must be years. Perhaps it will finally get my creative juices flowing again.
I recently heard about a book called Sacred Games, a tome of a crime thriller written by Vikram Chandra. It’s length gave him the ability to weave a complex and epic story, and kind of revived my hope of somehow tying in a long espionage/illicit business/gang war/academic story wrapped up as a coming of age thriller, based on my protagonist Zoey, who again is an ex-spy.
Here’s my excerpt (428 words; I’m not good at editing so please ax as you see fit).
Zoey sat across the table from Lev, hand holding up her tired head, a completely blank look on her face, and her eyes glossed over. Her mind was turning things. Margo was the complete opposite, her energy palpable as she tried to pitch the idea.
Vertical farms, nutrient optimization, fully robotic operation, brand new varieties of marijuana and other products she was pitching on. The build out of door-to-door fulfillment. And most importantly, papering over that the fact that licensing wasn’t all in order, and that their other products weren’t all that legal yet.
The TV news was worried about gas station substances. Their other products made those look akin to the hazard of a wrapper of Smarties; they took potency to a new level with the mushroom derived products. Maybe they’d be a two minute filler story on the 10 o’clock news at worst, one that no one pays attention to. Or maybe it would kill people and ruin them.
Zoey’s vacant thousand yard glare, almost through Lev, seemed innocuous. In reality her brain was cranking while she monitored Lev’s every glance, breath, hand movements and word like a polygrapher.
Lev, though young, was no rube. He was technically, operationally, tactically, strategically and street savvy. His questions dug into the plan and cut through the papered over red flags. He was brief and direct, but polite though intense. He had a presence about him, despite being on the lean side. He reminded Zoey of the guy on YouTube who pretends to be a janitor but actually is a power-lifter who as a joke shows jacked guys how to lift their weights correctly, then makes a trick of lifting their barbell with one hand.
Lev was interested in the venture though. And Zoey knew it. She simply had to understand the risk he brought to the table and decid whether they would treat him as a full partner, an equal.
The service doorbell rang. Lev flinched, not expecting company. It was Zoey’s old friend Joe, an ex-State Department Regional Security Officer and former NYPD Internal Affairs Detective of 14 years. His charge was to bring security to their business. He had the brawn private security firms look for to meet their requirement of being able to bench a car.
Cartels who are bold enough to plant marijuana farms in the middle of national parks with full utilities and irrigation systems, despite patrols by US Forest Service Park Rangers armed with M4 Carbines and squads of DEA operators are not ones to shy from a turf war, if needed.
Hello Chris! I can think of a lot of reasons (practical-wise and Hallmark brand-wise) that the movie version of Her Knight would be very different from the book. I think it’ll be fun to see the different ways they take the same idea, to be honest! I’m sure the characters and the general vibe will be the same.
We’re both writing thrillers! I’m having to do a lot of tech research for mine, and yours looks like it would need a ton of research. I laughed at “being able to bench a car.” I have been so angry about marijuana farms in national parks, and I love it that you’re including that, because I don’t think that many people know about it!
It sounds like you have some really interesting characters here. Thank you for sharing! (And hey, 438 words is close enough, since you’re a long-time regular 😉 ) Have a great weekend!
Wednesday flew by! I planned to share some of my WIP, but the day was gone in a flash! I do want to thank you for all you share with your readers. I, for one, appreciate you.
My Missouri Ozarks series comes close to matching the criteria for Hallmark movies. I’m going to work on that.
Enjoy your time on the movie set. I’m eager to read about it. Again, thank you.
Hi Bonnie! Some days do go by in a flash! 🙂 Thank you so much for the kind words. I appreciate it! I hope everything is going well with you, and hope you have a good 4th of July holiday!
So exciting about your movie, Bryn. I hope you enjoy every moment of the experience. It’s fantastic. And I hope it leads to other successes. Just remember to have fun.
I’m currently going a little mad, setting up requests for ARC readers (about to go live any second) for my paranormal fantasy romance, Under the Same Stars. Here is a 400-word excerpt from early on, when the main couple meet (the cute-meet??). The alpha wolf shifter thinks she’s responsible for trapping his young brother in a horrific metal trap, almost severing the boy’s leg:
Reflexes honed in the fight rings of Akkadd helped me roll out of the huge predator’s reach and spring to my feet.
The wolf had already pivoted…
Shit, he’s fast.
The fangs launched for my throat again. My head whipped back. Slavering jaws missed me by a whisper.
Gods, this wolf was the size of a jeep. A charcoal jeep, with grey and amber highlights. Werewolf? Lycoshifter? Some creature that snacked on steroids? His energy spiked around him: mystical power and raw masculinity, filled with anger and confidence.
He knew he could take me.
I swallowed. We didn’t have time for this. Those dragomyrs were comi—
The black wolf leapt for me again in an explosion of snarls.
My clenched fist smashed down on his muzzle as I front-flipped. Cleared his massive body easily. His nose twitched and he did a double-take.
Yeah. Weren’t expecting that, were you, Charcoal?
Another one bounded from behind the yew tree, jumping over roots breaking through the forest floor. Smaller, with a red-ish coat, yellow eyes, lips curled in a guttural snarl.
Visceral fear crawled out from where I’d hidden it long ago. Buried memories resurfaced, my heart throbbing in my throat.
Wolves tear to pieces what you love.
You kill them or they’ll kill you.
The smaller one sprang, teeth bared. The flat of my foot slammed into his chest, winding him. He yelped, arced backwards, thumped the ground and lay dazed.
The big one was already on me again. My forearm smashed against his throat, stopping his teeth sinking into me.
Thick fur, huge forepaws, claws slicing into my shoulders.
I bit back a cry. Show no weakness.
His mouth widened, growling a storm as his claws dug deeper into my flesh, tearing it open. Searing pain flooded me. My block held; he couldn’t reach my throat.
We locked eyes. His, outraged. Deep forest green with amber flecks. Was he furious because he thought I’d set that trap or because he couldn’t beat me—a girl half his size.
He blinked, his full weight crushing me as he barked into my face, spittle hitting my cheek.
My eyes watered and my ears damn-near popped—those snarls could pierce armour. He would rip my throat out in a heartbeat if I wavered.
Still, my block held. His gaze widened.
Yeah, he was pissed off because he couldn’t beat me.
Well, fuck you, lyco.
Hi Kate! This sounds like an exciting story! WIP Wednesday is really for work in progress, but hey, you can share something from a WIP next time. And it’s giving me an idea: I should do an excerpt party post sometime for published and about-to-be-published work! 🙂 I feel you on the ARCs. All the things leading up to a release can be so intense! But CONGRATULATIONS on the upcoming release, and I hope you have tons of success with it. Have a great rest of your week!
So sorry, Bryn! I didn’t realise. This whole project has been (and book 2 continues to be) my WIP for so long, I forgot that actually, this part is now complete. Next time, for sure, I’ll post something on the final book WIP, currently only 50k words in…if I can put the broken bits of my head back together again 🙂 Enjoy making your movie!