Good morning WIPpeeters and guests! I have been mostly iced in since last Thursday, and when I did venture out to work last night, I crashed my car on the way home. All is well. I’m not even sore this morning, and Emilie (my car) is only scared a little bit–more like bruised.
I’m in the midst of finals, so I have done absolutely no writing this week except for the Creative Buzz Hop. The prompt was “serenity,” and it was so much fun to write on. If you want to join in, it’s free for all.
Onward to my WIPpet this week. What is WIPpet? I can hear my guests asking this! WIPpet is an amazing thing. That is all. =P WIPpet is where those who write post their WIP (Work In Progress) on their blog that somehow correlates with the date. For example, today you will be getting 27 paragraphs from me. 25 of those are short, as this is mostly dialogue, and 2 of those are long. So it’s a quick read–I promise. I arrived at this number with some simple by intriguing math. 11 (for the day) + 12 (for the month) + 1 + 3 (for the last two numbers in the year) = 27.
To get you into this excerpt, I will provide some quick information. Peter Schultz has been around since the previous book, where Grace (Deputy Halling) discovered him drunk on more than one occasion. He’s 19, and she felt something tugging at her because of the poor kid, so instead of arresting him for public intoxication and a minor in possession, she finally ended up taking him to a rehab facility. Fast-forward to this book. Peter is trying to figure out what he wants to do when he grows up. He’s started school again and is working toward his degree once more, which he will accomplish in a few short years. He’s been hanging out with Grace’s ex, Amya, who is the Police Chaplain for the Sheriff’s Department. Grace is taking Peter out on his first ride-along so he can see what she does for a living–it also happens to be Saint Patrick’s Day.
So without further ado–27 “short” paragraphs.
“I promise—you won’t get hurt or shot at tonight. We’ll stay away from those calls.”
“That sucks,” he pouted.
Grace shook her head and turned down Montgomery, heading into her district and away from the university.
“It does not suck,” she hissed. “It’s part policy and part that I don’t wanna get shot at.”
Peter grinned and turned to her, holding out his hand palm up. Grace gave him a funny look, her brow scrunching and her nose wrinkling as she tried to figure him out. Something was off about him, but then again, she hadn’t spent much time with the kid when he was sober.
“Calm down, boss,” he started. “I just want to see what all the fuss is about in this job.”
“Why?” she asked as she turned down the road and started to drive slowly through the residential streets.
“Because I thought about being a cop once. And I thought about not being a cop. Now I know that it’s not what I want to do, but I do want to do something similar.”
“Like Amya,” Grace muttered.
Peter turned in his seat and stared at her full on, giving her a blank and surprised look. Grace caught it and turned back to face the road, following the number eight line from the last bus stop to the transit center. She wasn’t going to ask Peter what that look meant at all.
“How did you know that?” he asked for her.
Grace rolled her eyes and spun her wheel so that they could sit in the parking lot and watch the people get off the buses. Grace rolled her eyes and spun her wheel so that they could sit in the parking lot and watch the people get off the buses. She ignored him as best she could, not wanting to talk about Amya if she could avoid it. She put the car in park and started to watch each individual that got off the bus, hoping that just one of them would do something suspicious so she could avoid talking to Peter even more.
Peter would have none of it and twisted in his seat to face Grace. She ignored it for as long as she could, but by the third time he repeated his question, she felt she had to answer.
“How did you know that?”
Grace sighed. “I took a guess. Between you spouting off Scripture and hanging out with Amya, I figured it was coming somewhere around there.”
Peter smiled and turned to look out the front of the vehicle, whispering, “‘The Lord is my shepherd. … He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul.’”
“I know that one.”
“Which one is it then?”
Grace shook her head and looked at a black male, six foot three, wearing a gray hoodie and with pants down his ankles. He looked strangely familiar. She couldn’t place him though, and he wasn’t doing anything that currently would lead her to pulling him aside and questioning him, so she let it go.
“Which Scripture?” Peter asked again.
“Don’t remember exactly,” Grace muttered.
“It’s Psalm twenty-one. People say it at funerals a lot, but I think that it’s much better in other cases. ‘The Lord is my shepherd.’ It’s so awesome. God guides me and leads me and prevents me from going astray.”
“I think you went astray,” Grace said as she picked up on watching another individual walking down the street toward the transit station. She tracked his progress as Peter continued.
“I did—but God came and found me. I’m pretty sure that would happen for any one of the flock that got away.”
“What?” Peter asked.
“I highly doubt God’s going to come find me. I don’t want to be found.”
If you would like to join in the wonders of WIPpet Wednesday, head on over to MyRandomMuse after making your post and link it up. If you’re just an avid reader and want some more amazing excerpts, head on over to MyRandomMuse and comment on other’s posts. We’re all comment whores.
Thanks for tuning in!