WIPpet numbers for 8th November, 2017:
11+8=19 paragraphs from Goth of Christmas Past
I haven’t ditched Tabula Rasa, but I am taking a break from it to write for NaNoWriMo. Thus, I’m snipping from my very new (and rough) WIP Goth of Christmas Past.
The pictured cover is NOT the cover, although I think I might recycle it for something else (which would require me to write something else ^_^). The wonderful, incredibly talented Emma Pickering (designer of the cover for Champagne) is currently working on the cover art. The main bit of it is done, but it still needs the background and…and I’m so excited! Like a kid at Christmas! :D Emma—you are a superstar. Thank you so much!
Onto the WIPpet: this is the beginning of the first scene of the Prologue/Chapter One (whatever it turns out to be). I’ve already had to rejig the characters once, so anything could happen!
Some readers might recognise these guys…
* * * * *
Bursts of strobe light, five flashes in time with the double bass pedal and speed-strumming of heavily distorted guitar. On the fifth set, Jay squeezed his eyes shut and jerked his head to the side. Too bright, too loud, it pulsed through his body like palpitations—he had to clamp his teeth tight together to stop them vibrating. The pit was alive, a mass surging as one to the chant.
With panic mounting, he was lifted off his feet, the space he’d occupied immediately filled by the mindless mob. No air in his lungs, he couldn’t breathe. Shit, I’m gonna be crushed to death.
With eyes still shut and arms tight to his chest—a shield against the rough buffetting of hot bodies—he was hoisted above the carnage, terrified, frustrated, but relieved. The light dimmed, the volume dropped, and a welcome whoosh of chilly air whipped over his bare arms and up the sleeves of his t-shirt.
When finally his feet touched down again, he opened his eyes and shrugged angrily. “What the hell, Hadyn?”
“I thought you were having a fit!”
“You had your eyes shut, and the lights—”
“You went all stiff.”
“Yeah, well, you know…” Jay’s anger diminished as the explanation registered. He waved his arm towards the fire exit through which, he assumed, they’d just left the gig. “People?”
“Oh.” Hadyn sagged in remorse. “Sorry. I didn’t… I just…I just got you out of there.”
“No way you carried me out here on your own.” Jay was slim, not that tall, probably underweight. OK. Definitely underweight because he forgot to eat, which was weird when Hadyn never seemed to stop. However, they were the same build.
“No,” Hadyn confirmed. “Some big guy in front of us.” His eyelids drooped, along with the corners of his mouth, and he fidgeted with his hands. “Jay…I’m sorry, man.”
“Don’t worry about it. Hey, thanks for looking out for me.”
A sheepish smile appeared in the midst of Hadyn’s mosh-tousled hair. He straightened up and looked towards the building—an old warehouse converted into a performance venue that got some big names, although it was Jay and Hadyn’s first time. “What if they won’t let us back in?”
* * * * *What is WIPpet Wednesday?
WIPpet Wednesday is a blog hop where authors share from their current works in progress - expertly organised/hosted by Emily Wrayburn - and the excerpt has to relate to the date in some way. For links to other fabulous authors' WIPpets, visit: http://www.inlinkz.com/wpview.php?id=355404
Thanks for reading