OK, yes, it's Thursday, but it's still Wednesday somewhere in the world. BST? Dunno what you're talking about... ;)
I've not taken part in WIPpet Wednesday for a few weeks, nor any other snippet sharing, because I had a bit of an author epiphany, or meltdown. I'm undecided. The long and short of it is I realised I wasn't enjoying writing, and the reason is...deadlines! I can write to deadlines, no problem at all, but they're not always a good thing for creativity.
So, I'm not doing it anymore!
Unless I really, really have to.
What is WIPpet Wednesday?
WIPpet Wednesday is a blog hop where authors share from their current works in progress - expertly organised/hosted by Emily Witt - 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
It's 29th September, 2016, so I'm going with 29 sentences from page 9 of Class-A, which is both part of Take a Chance - a YA/NA LGBTQ (M/M) anthology (coming this side of Christmas - date to be confirmed) - and a very short interlude in my series, Hiding Behind The Couch. For followers of the series, Class-A happens during Ruminations (starting with the law halls of residence party).
I also get to reveal the cover for the first time! Note: this is the cover for the story, not the anthology. This cover is one of my own designs.
The cover for the anthology is currently being conjured by the magical Natasha Snow.
The characters in the excerpt below are Simon and Jess, law undergraduates. Simon is the main character in this story, which is told from his point of view.
Here's the WIPpet (and the cover!):
He nodded, feeling much the same, except his tiredness extended beyond the late night, beyond many late nights. Big thoughts for a weary soul on a Sunday morning. "Do you go to church, Jess?"
"Not since..." She checked her emotions, but not quickly enough. "No," she confirmed. He had no right to ask.
"Nor do I, although sometimes..." His pulse filled his ears, heralding the flashback. The night before, in her room, asking questions that had seemed urgent, pertinent. If only he'd waited, given her time to become attached, for him to become her habit, her addiction.
"Look, Simon, did you want to say something? Only I'm meeting a friend for breakfast, and I'm already late."
He shrugged, his uncertainty amplified by her dismissal.
She sighed a breath that carried her reluctance to the ceiling, and she watched it go. "I'll keep it to myself," she said with oh, such weariness, "if that's what you're worried about."
"If you saw, everyone did."
"Everyone else was in the same state as you. There was a lot of debauchery in this building last night. Believe me, what you and Taz were up to was far from the worst of it."
"Taz." Simon let the name buzz in his ears and fizzle away, a fading zigzag path of a honeybee returning to the hive.
"Thanks for apologising," Jess said. She was already a blur, distant, disappearing. He had questions for which he needed no answers. Who's Taz? How do you know him? He neither wanted to know nor cared, in truth. He merely wished to sustain their conversation.
Thanks for reading!