October 7, 2018
As you may well know, in most of my books I do include some righteous indignation on the part of one or more of my characters–SHARK’S BREATH will be no different.
I am not the lone ranger when it comes to the lengthy period of time it is taking to get our beach cleaned, of course , there is nothing I can personally do about that. So, I’m determined to find out what could be done; what could have been done, and am going to talk with an environmentalist – all the arm chair stuff doesn’t get anybody anywhere. In the mean time–I thought my readers might enjoy a little excerpt from the work in progress, Shark’s Breath:
He walked curtly into the next room and hit the button finding the “Luck be a Lady” tract on the Sinatra CD. He sang the title phrase, sauntered back into the bathroom, through to his bedroom, opened the drawer to the bedside table and removed an envelope.
His eyes scanning the pages, B.D. grinned broadly. “Bitch, she buys me a used car and she’s getting a million dollars.” Twisting his body to the rhythm of the song, he released, “stick with me baby, I’m the one you came in with.”
B.D. slid the envelope back into the drawer, and removed his jeans and Henley shirt. He snapped the waistband of his briefs against his tight stomach, pulled them down, then threw them into the hamper before entering the shower.
Musing about the differences between he and his sister, B.D. lathered his long hair, sneering a bit as he recalled her jealousy. ‘It’s not fair, you got all the good features,–the great cheek bones, the damn foot long lashes, and great hair. I’d kill for that hair.’ How many times had he heard that from Eleanor growing up.
Funny, he thought. I’m the one that’s having to do all he killing, not her. “But things are going to change now, big sister. Maybe Human Resources would be interested in the squalor you live in, the parade of men you run through your legs and the way you treat your daughter. Maybe Uncle B.D. needs to gain custody of the little doll.”
The bar of soap in his hand, he lathered his belly and imagined Eleanor finding the will gone from her jewelry box. “Stupid. My sister was always stupid. What did she think?” He chortled loudly, and exited the shower, beginning a grooming process he had honed to perfection.
QUOTE: “The essence of lying is in deception, not in words.” John Ruskin
WRITING TIP: Do you have to be a good liar to be a good writer. I think not, at least for me, writing is all about the truth, even if it is about a fictional story.
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