Well, here we go. I’m back! Yay! School has started, work has started, I’m moving in 9 days, life is about to stay insane for awhile. But! the writing is good, as it always is. I have been awarded the wonderful position of Municipal Liaison for NaNoWriMo in the DFW region. I’m so excited to see what November has to bring. While I was gone for two amazing weeks, I got the proofs for the book cover for Dying Embers, which should coming out in December. w00t!
I also got to play with my new godsons, which is even better!!
Anyway, enough rambling, without further ado, 14 sentences from chapter 7 (20-8=12+2=14) of the newest thing with no name. To join in WIPpet Wednesday, just post some of your WIP (Work In Progress) and have it in some way correlate with the date. Feel free to get crazy with the math. Once you do that, go here and link it up and check out everyone else’s!
So Molly was a witch. Not something she completely expected, but it fit everything that Emma knew about the woman. Starting with why there were never any photos of her.
Witches lived for nearly ever, their aging process slowed down until it would take close to three hundred years before one wrinkle would appear on her pretty face. Emma had no idea how old Molly was, but if she had to guess, she’d say at least over a hundred and probably closer to two hundred.
Emma heard heels on the floor coming down the hall and she started to panic. She needed her purse. Flipping onto her other side, she looked at the night stand and sighed when she saw her purse sitting on top of it. Emma reached out and slid her hand inside, grabbing the tiny eight ounce water bottle. Twisting the already broken seal, she took the cap off and downed the contents of the bottle.
It was her last one. Putting the bottle back into her purse, she laid on her back and stared at the door just as Molly came through. Emma’s heart pounded in her chest and she tried to hide the flush in her cheeks. Molly instantly came over to her, concern written all over her features.