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Tag: Work in Progress

Sneak Peek: Song Prologue

I thought I’d give you a sneak peak at my current work-in-progress.  I’m HOPING that it will be ready to publish by the end of this month, but I’m not promising.  Every time I get good momentum, something around me requires days of my attention.  Nevertheless — I’m about halfway through it right now and am really excited about the story that is shaping up.

The title is not set yet.  It used to be Song of Retribution, then it became Song of Revelation, and lately it’s been Song of Redemption.  I may just cut my losses and title it Song, or The Song.  We’ll see. (Though you can see Debi created the draft of the cover with the Song of Retribution title.)   Here is the Prologue:

Angela Montgomery stared at the smart board in front of her and ran through the calculations again. She tried to ignore the little shivers of nervous excitement that danced up her spine.

“Did we just …” Donald Andrews clicked a few keys on the laptop in front of him, magnifying the image on the smart board screen so that it covered the entire wall. “Did we just …”

Angela walked forward, staring at the screen. “You know what, I’m cautiously going to say yes. Yes, we did.”

Alvin Berry let out a loud, “Whoop!” He removed the ever present knit cap from the top of his head and tossed it into the air. The group collectively looked at each other and grinned. Years of work, and the breakthrough sat right there on that smart board, staring back at them.

“We should celebrate,” Lorie Frazier announced. She pulled her glasses from her nose and casually tossed them onto the stack of papers in front of her. “We need to celebrate, then we need to call a press conference.”

Angela looked back at the screen. “We have to be sure.”

“We’re sure,” Alvin said. “Look at that beauty. It is so simple yet so elegant.”

“Call James,” Lorie said. “Tell him to make us a reservation in the most ridiculously expensive restaurant Atlanta has to offer. Tell him we’re going to celebrate.”

Angela let the giddy excitement take over. She laughed and hugged Don as she pulled her cell phone out of her pocket. Her husband was going to flip. For five years, she and this amazing team of engineers had worked to perfect this revolutionary data storage solution. For five years, usually for six days a week, usually for not less than twelve hours a day, they’d worked in this basement lab in her home. While she’d hoped and prayed for all that time, now that the reality of what they’d accomplished actually shone back at her from that beautiful smart screen, she realized she hadn’t ever really been certain they’d succeed.

But they had.

She got James’ voice mail. “Darling,” she purred, knowing he’d hear the smile in her voice, “We did it. We’re done. I cannot wait to show you. Come home. Come see. We need to celebrate.”

As soon as Angela hung up, she gave Lorie a hug and said, “We need cheesecake.”

“Copious amounts,” the near-sighted genius agreed. “With strawberries and good coffee.”

Angela felt her heart skip when the red security light started flashing. Panicked, she whirled around. “Back it up to the snap,” she said to Don.

His fingers clicked on the keys with the speed of machine gun fire as spoke. “There’s no time. We didn’t do an incremental yesterday because the waffle was running a defrag,” he answered.

Alvin pressed a series of keys on his computer and several small screens appeared on the smart board, all showing different angles of her home. Men in masks moved through the empty house with military precision, high powered and very deadly looking carbie rifles tucked tightly into their shoulders at the ready. They stared around every corner through the sights on the short rifles.

“Can you remember how we got here since the last backup?” she asked Alvin. If she’d ever met anyone whose memory rivaled her husband’s, it was Alvin.

His voice sounded flat, emotionless. “Of course I can.”

She watched as a crouched figure outside the entrance to the lab tape plastic two liter bottles filled with water to the hinges of the door. The security was tight and the door was sealed, but not sealed well enough to handle a blast of a shaped charge pushing water like the world’s most powerful cutting torch.

She’d known the risks. The success of their project was potentially worth upward of a hundred billion dollars in the first year, and that was on the conservative side. The long term applications of the soon to be patented technology could not even be calculated. The reason they worked out of her home instead of in some lab was for the secrecy of the project, a vain hope of security by obscurity.

They’d taken some precautions. An incendiary device much like a military grade thermite grenade perched atop each server array that would, when detonated, melt its way through the machines at 1275 degrees Fahrenheit, effectively destroying everything in a completely unrecoverable fashion.

“Then destroy it. Destroy it all.”

Lorie’s finger hovered over the steel pins. “You’re sure?”

The explosion above them shook the room. Alvin rushed to the inner door and made sure the panic room door remained bolted on all four sides. Angela closed the lid on her laptop and slid it into the 2 inch air gap between network switches. Then she draped her hand on Lorie’s shoulder and whispered, “Do it.”

Alarms went off and the lights flickered. As she flew backward from the shock of the blast blowing open her door she prayed — for courage, for protection, for strength.

 

Hallee Bridgeman Precious Signature


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Muse Monday: Re-Writes

Welcome to Muse Monday!

Every Monday, I’ll write a post about writing, or the muse, or frustrations with the muse, or excitement about the muse, or whatever strikes my fancy to write regarding the craft of writing. I’ll also include a Linky. Link up YOUR post about writing, or the muse, or frustrations with the muse, or excitement about the muse — ANYTHING to do with writing and the craft of writing.

Re-Writes

My current work in process was the first book I ever wrote.  I wrote it in 6 weeks – 100,000 words of uneducated, un-researched story that just poured out of me.

The thing is, it’s a really good story.  The other thing is, there is so much in there that is just junk.

It wasn’t so hard to re-do the first half of the book.  The mystery and intrigue plot just needed a little bit of refining.  I did need to incorporate the things I’ve learned about police procedure and such over the last fifteen years.  But, all in all, tt wasn’t too bad.  The relationships needed a little bit of help, but it was okay.  I breezed through seventeen chapters in two days (about 8 hours) of writing.

I thought, “Wow!  We originally wanted to publish this in August.  Even though I ended up taking the summer off, maybe we can still do it in August, or close to it!”

Then I hit a wall.  The relationship changed and became sexual – what I do not write now.  The intrigue and mystery plot got more intense and I was able to see just how clumsy I used to be about that type of plot.  And while I’ve started sprinkling some elements of faith through the story, there isn’t nearly what there needs to be — especially now that I’m removing the sexual relationship.

Consequently, when I got to chapter 18 (and really, I deleted two chapters until I got to this one, so it’s the old chapter 20), I read, re-read, started to re-write, and finally decided to scrap it all and start fresh at that point.  Three solid hours of writing Friday and I have half a chapter to show for it.

As I write this in preparation for Muse Monday, it’s actually Saturday, and my mind is whirling with plot ideas, character development, and where things need to go in the story.  I’m itching for that 9AM-2PM writing window on Monday morning to roll up my sleeves and dig into the second half of this book.

What is going on in your Muse world this week? Leave a link to your blog post! Here are the rules.


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Six Sentence Sunday: Remove Your Hand…or Else

She could never take him on in a game of cards.  Every cruel thought in her imagination seared right through her sapphire eyes and bored into his, which he struggled to keep impassive.  Still, she maintained her cool façade, something he deeply admired amidst his mirth.  Tony carefully bit down on the inside of his lip to keep himself from laughing at her next words.  “I don’t play those games, Mr. Viscolli.  Remove your hand, or else I’ll remove it.”

 

Want to read more?  Sapphire Ice will publish this month!  Check back soon for dates!

What is Six Sentence Sunday?

1) pick a project – a current Work in Progress, contracted work or even something readers can buy if you’re published

2) pick six sentences

3) post ‘em on Sunday

Hallee Bridgeman Precious Signature


I’m so grateful for your visit, today.
You would bless me if you added me to your Subscribe via any Reader feed reader or subscribed Subscribe via Email via email.
You can also become a fan on Become a Facebook Fan Facebook or follow me on Follow me on Twitter Twitter. I would love to see more of you!


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