Wow…I really just tried to write July for the date! I will not be joining next week because I will be on a mini getaway with my boyfriend. I so need it. I’m only getting one day off for about 6 weeks straight. Feel free to come kidnap me! So long as fun things happen after the initial kidnapping and I’m not allowed home or near a computer.
Since I haven’t had much time to write, due to work and work and school, I’ll be giving you the next few lines from what I shared last week. I did cheat a bit as this will be my NaNoWriMo piece, but I’ll definitely hit more than 50k words in the one month, so I think I’m safe.
Here’s how WIPpet works. Take an excerpt from your current Work In Progress and post it in a blog. The excerpt must in some way related to the date. And feel free to get VERY creative with the math. Then share that blog with everyone else here and read all the other amazing posts!!
Here’s mine for this week. Taking off from last week, which you can find here, Grace continues to deal with the punk. I have 25 paragraphs (they’re short I promise). My math is this: 10 + 9 +2 + 1 +3 = 25
Climbing up and onto his back, she dug her knee into his spine and grasped for his hand, the knife blade flying out. Pulling her fingers into a fist, she smashed it down onto his wrist until he let go and cried out.
“Get off me, bitch!”
“Stop resisting!” Grace shouted back, seeing red as the punk tried to wiggle his way loose from under her.
She moved up his body and rested her forearm against the back of his neck, working his face into the gravel. He cried out in pain, but Grace didn’t let up. She wouldn’t until his body completely relaxed and he decided to cooperate.
“Stop resisting, and I’ll let you up.”
Swallowing hard, Grace looked up to see Toulouse barreling his way down the street to her location. He had left his cruiser at the end of the block, driver’s side door flung open as he ran as fast as he could down the road.
Grace looked back down at her suspect and sneered as he tried to turn her over. She dug her knee farther into his back and put more pressure on his neck.
“A’ight. A’ight. Damn, bitch. I give up.”
Toulouse got to her and landed on the other side of the suspect. Toulouse grabbed for the suspects arm and wrenched it behind his back and pressed his own knee into the man’s back. Grace reached up and twisted the punks other arm back and watched as Toulouse clicked the handcuffs into place.
Grace let out a breath just as another cruiser pulled up. Two doors slammed and Grace knew who was walking over before she had a chance to even look up. The stupid cop that wouldn’t let up on her and his kid of a trainee. She took a deep breath and bolstered herself for any rude comments, sexual or personal, and started to tug the punk up by his cuffs.
“Got it all handled, Halling?”
If he hadn’t been facing her, Grace would have sneered. “Yes, it’s all handed. Thanks for the assist.”
She turned back to Toulouse and headed toward his cruiser to do the pat down. She knew the three men were giving each other nasty looks behind her back due to their silence, but she ignored them and kept on walking with the punk in front of her.
“You fucking tackled me! I’m gonna report this to your sup. Excessive force is what it is.”
“Shut up,” Grace muttered.
She shoved him against the back of the cruiser and spun him around. She patted down his arms and sides, deciding to wait for Toulouse to come back over for the rest of the pat down. A quick glance over her shoulder told her that he was already coming back.
“Got any needles on you? Anything sharp that’s going to poke me?”
The punk spit on the ground and growled. “None of your business.”
He pursed his lips and lifted his chin. Grace rolled her eyes and tugged on his cuffs to make her point. She didn’t want to get pricked if she could help it, and she was sure Toulouse would agree.
“It’s only going to be harder on you if you don’t cooperate.”
The punk didn’t respond.
“What we got, Halling?”
“Nothing yet. I only did the top half of the pat down, figured you could do the rest. You know, that whole man to man thing.” Grace smirked and stepped back when Toulouse grabbed hold of the handcuffs.
Before Grace could take three steps, an angry black woman came charging down the road, barefoot and braless. Grace immediately stepped between the punk, Toulouse, and the angry woman.
The woman was screaming so loudly with a hoarse and deep voice that Grace couldn’t understand a word she said. Every two steps the woman had to heave a breath as she waddled her large body closer and closer to the punk.