I can’t figure out what manuscript to work on along with the fourth book of my Winter Creek, Montana series, so I’ve decided to give away the first paragraph of each one of my unfinished ones.
Maybe I’m strange, but I like to work on two manuscripts at a time. When I get blocked in one, I have the other as backup.
And I always get blocked somewhere in the middle. Never fails.
Here’s the first paragraph of The Marshall’s Lady for you.
She wanted to be anywhere but here.
Short and to the point, yet it set up Kim’s story well.
And here are the choices.
A Search for Forgiveness
(Actually this is the one I should choose because I only have a chapter and a half to write. I have to fix up the conflict a bit, though.)
Her temper would get the better of her, if she wasn’t careful. Rina needed to get her anger under control before she did something really crazy. Like strangle that lawyer. Dragging in a cleansing breath, she peaked out the window of the diner, seeing nothing but the shadowy reflection of an unhappy, upset woman.
The Treasure Myth
(Mystery with a ghost and a buried treasure.)
She would recognize Jed Forrest anywhere. “What are you doing here?”
(Romantic suspense involving stolen diamonds.)
Her hazy gaze focused on the sign showing she’d reached her final destination. Colorful letters spelled out the name of her new temporary home—Hidden River RV Park, as long trapped tears escaped and slid slowly down her cheeks. Over a year had passed since her husband’s fatal accident; hundreds of miles separated her from the site. From the outskirts of Atlanta to a small town a few dozen miles from San Antonio, Texas, she’d traveled the interstates with no tears.
(The first book about a trio of elderly matchmakers. Contemporary romance)
Sunlight just began to brighten the sky when Abby Thomas slipped out of her vehicle. She took in the quiet calmness, breathing in the peace of the silence. Soon the air would be filled with noise and confusion, talking, yelling voices and traffic sounds, but it also would be ripe with the scents of sweet and savory bake goods.
(Paranormal about a psychic and her pain-in-the-butt (dead) grandmother.)
For the first time in longer than she could remember, Jane Bellwood slept well. No nightmares invaded her rest, causing her to moan and cry out in the dead of night. No spectral man or woman, no boy or girl, no child screamed in her mind for help. For once, she awoke refreshed and rested.
Do any speak to you?