Post by MAYOR HECTOR "HADES" TORMEI on Aug 7, 2011 19:50:01 GMT -5
So, I've started to write a novel I've been wanting to write for several years now but I'm stuck with the title. I'm posting what I have so far and I would love some feedback. The basic plot is that Valerie witnessed a murder and is at risk of being hurt by the Russian mafia. She's put under protective custody but is kidnapped and held by a mercenary hired by the mafia to watch her until the trial.
Any suggestions are welcome!
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Chapter One:
'I'm a nosy bitch. I know it, everyone around me knows it, and it has always gotten me into trouble. Have I learned my lesson and changed my ways? In 29 years of existence, had I not figured out that being a nosy bitch helped no one and only hurt me?
Nope.
This insatiable curiosity of mine has always screwed up things. Take, for instance, a certain event that occured when I was a high school freshman. I had heard about a shed on school grounds dubbed the Love Shack by the football team. Naturally, I wanted to see it for myself and was arrested for voyeurism when I stumbled on a pair of boys together.
That ridiculous trait of mine has gotten me into trouble yet again. Two weeks ago I saw a man get shot in the back of the head by another man, all because I had heard someone speaking in a foreign language in a back room and wanted to go see what was going on.. Now, I'm stuck in a safehouse under 24/7 security. Why? The man who was killed was a Russian Embassador, the killer part of the Russian mafia. And I could identify him.
Great, right? Wrong. I have to testify in a trial almost a year away. A year. Until then, I'm Sally Nobody, living in a house with a group of Secret Service agents. I don't go out on my own, I don't talk to my friends or family, I have to change my appearance every so often (hair cut, dye job, wig, tanning booth), and the only people I get to talk to are men who are restricted to monosyllabic responses. Some of them are really cute but still. There's only so much testosterone a girl could take before going batty.'
I sighed and clicked my pen shut, tossing my joural over to the side. I had only been under surveillance for 3 days and I was already starting to lose it. A therapist told me to get into a diary routine to help cope with the stress. It helped a little but mostly I felt stupid while writing.
"You alright there?" A deep voice asked from behind me. I jumped a little and turned around, glaring at Lt. Jack Holson. He was one of my 'handlers', one of the more decent ones. He was pushing 40 and wasn't the stereotypical devastatingly handsome Secret Service agent; he had pale skin, was balding, and was so square he looked like a cinderblock. Jack was cool though, a bit gruff, but not a total ass to be around, not like most of the others.
"I'm good, Jack," I gave him a bright smile and turned back around. Jack gave a sniff and walked around the couch, sitting beside me.
He gave me a level look before asking again, "You sure you're alright, Valerie?" I smiled and patted his knee, assuring that I was indeed. Just stressed out, freaked out, and scared shitless most of the time. Jack didn't look like he believed me but he accepted it at face value and switched on the television. Judge Judy. Ironic. I moved my journal beneath the pillow at my side and made a show of getting comfortable to watch the show with Jack. He gave me a disgruntled look but didn't comment when I slung my legs over his. I loved bothering him, the faces he made were hilarious. I had a soft spot for Jack, moreso than the other Secret Service drones.
Cpt. Eddie Franchez for instance; he was handsome, he was smart, he was strong, but he was about as interesting as watching paint dry and had an ego the size of Texas. He thought that he was God's gift to man and I couldn't stand being around him. Unfortunately, he ran point on a lot of things so I had to put up with him. Unfortunately. I tried my level best to ignore him unless I had to pay attention, like when we had to go out for something.
Time passed in amiable silence, just Jack and me watching Judge Judy bring down the law on some idiot's head. Halfway through the episode Jack got tired of trying to keep his hands in the 'safe zone' as he liked to call it. The safe zone was him not touching me unless he had to for an emergency; usually, the safe zone was ignored. His hands had been resting on the back of the couch but they gradually made their way to rest on my ankles, I didn't mind much. As long as there was no stroking involved, his hands could stay there. They were pleasantly warm too, his hands, so that was a plus. I had really bad circulation and my hands and feet were always cold so...
Jack gave a grunt beside me, asking me something I didn't catch. "Say again?"
"I said, penny for your thoughts?" He repeated slowly. I hummed to myself thoughtfully. I hadn't really been thinking anything and I told him as much. Jack shrugged and moved my legs off of his lap. "Well, I'm cooking dinner tonight so I better get to it," He stood up off the couch, leaving me and Judy alone. I took one look at the screen and decided against staying and watching the riveting outcome. Snatching up my diary, I followed Jack into the kitchen. Eddie sat at the table, going over reports of some kind, so I made sure to give him a wide berth. Tossing my journal onto the counter, I stood there, waiting for Jack to acknowledge me. He gave me a flat, knowing look, and told me to start chopping uup vegetables that he tossed my way. Onion, celery, bell pepper, garlic...looked like a New Orleans style dish tonight. Not surprising seeing as Jack was from the city. While I finely diced all the healthy stuff, per his instructions, Jack cleaned a pack of chicken thighs; all the while, Eddie sat behind us grumbling about one thing or another. I wasn't great in the kitchen, a well established fact after I gave everyone food poisoning after making lunch on my first day. Jack was a wizard in the kitchen, if I had my way he'd cook every single night, but he, Eddie, and Lucas, the other agent who lived with us full time, traded off.
Cpt. Lucas Black wasn't ever around much, he sort of just faded into the background. I only ever saw him when we were eating and even then he stayed quiet. He was a tall, stringy looking man that honestly made me uncomfortable. His fingers were really long, too long, and it freaked me out.
On Jack's command, I took my carefully sliced and diced vegetables to the skillet he's been heating up. I tossed them into the skillet and Jack nudged me out of the way immediately so he could do the cooking. I wasn't allowed to use the stove.
Any suggestions are welcome!
-----------
Chapter One:
'I'm a nosy bitch. I know it, everyone around me knows it, and it has always gotten me into trouble. Have I learned my lesson and changed my ways? In 29 years of existence, had I not figured out that being a nosy bitch helped no one and only hurt me?
Nope.
This insatiable curiosity of mine has always screwed up things. Take, for instance, a certain event that occured when I was a high school freshman. I had heard about a shed on school grounds dubbed the Love Shack by the football team. Naturally, I wanted to see it for myself and was arrested for voyeurism when I stumbled on a pair of boys together.
That ridiculous trait of mine has gotten me into trouble yet again. Two weeks ago I saw a man get shot in the back of the head by another man, all because I had heard someone speaking in a foreign language in a back room and wanted to go see what was going on.. Now, I'm stuck in a safehouse under 24/7 security. Why? The man who was killed was a Russian Embassador, the killer part of the Russian mafia. And I could identify him.
Great, right? Wrong. I have to testify in a trial almost a year away. A year. Until then, I'm Sally Nobody, living in a house with a group of Secret Service agents. I don't go out on my own, I don't talk to my friends or family, I have to change my appearance every so often (hair cut, dye job, wig, tanning booth), and the only people I get to talk to are men who are restricted to monosyllabic responses. Some of them are really cute but still. There's only so much testosterone a girl could take before going batty.'
I sighed and clicked my pen shut, tossing my joural over to the side. I had only been under surveillance for 3 days and I was already starting to lose it. A therapist told me to get into a diary routine to help cope with the stress. It helped a little but mostly I felt stupid while writing.
"You alright there?" A deep voice asked from behind me. I jumped a little and turned around, glaring at Lt. Jack Holson. He was one of my 'handlers', one of the more decent ones. He was pushing 40 and wasn't the stereotypical devastatingly handsome Secret Service agent; he had pale skin, was balding, and was so square he looked like a cinderblock. Jack was cool though, a bit gruff, but not a total ass to be around, not like most of the others.
"I'm good, Jack," I gave him a bright smile and turned back around. Jack gave a sniff and walked around the couch, sitting beside me.
He gave me a level look before asking again, "You sure you're alright, Valerie?" I smiled and patted his knee, assuring that I was indeed. Just stressed out, freaked out, and scared shitless most of the time. Jack didn't look like he believed me but he accepted it at face value and switched on the television. Judge Judy. Ironic. I moved my journal beneath the pillow at my side and made a show of getting comfortable to watch the show with Jack. He gave me a disgruntled look but didn't comment when I slung my legs over his. I loved bothering him, the faces he made were hilarious. I had a soft spot for Jack, moreso than the other Secret Service drones.
Cpt. Eddie Franchez for instance; he was handsome, he was smart, he was strong, but he was about as interesting as watching paint dry and had an ego the size of Texas. He thought that he was God's gift to man and I couldn't stand being around him. Unfortunately, he ran point on a lot of things so I had to put up with him. Unfortunately. I tried my level best to ignore him unless I had to pay attention, like when we had to go out for something.
Time passed in amiable silence, just Jack and me watching Judge Judy bring down the law on some idiot's head. Halfway through the episode Jack got tired of trying to keep his hands in the 'safe zone' as he liked to call it. The safe zone was him not touching me unless he had to for an emergency; usually, the safe zone was ignored. His hands had been resting on the back of the couch but they gradually made their way to rest on my ankles, I didn't mind much. As long as there was no stroking involved, his hands could stay there. They were pleasantly warm too, his hands, so that was a plus. I had really bad circulation and my hands and feet were always cold so...
Jack gave a grunt beside me, asking me something I didn't catch. "Say again?"
"I said, penny for your thoughts?" He repeated slowly. I hummed to myself thoughtfully. I hadn't really been thinking anything and I told him as much. Jack shrugged and moved my legs off of his lap. "Well, I'm cooking dinner tonight so I better get to it," He stood up off the couch, leaving me and Judy alone. I took one look at the screen and decided against staying and watching the riveting outcome. Snatching up my diary, I followed Jack into the kitchen. Eddie sat at the table, going over reports of some kind, so I made sure to give him a wide berth. Tossing my journal onto the counter, I stood there, waiting for Jack to acknowledge me. He gave me a flat, knowing look, and told me to start chopping uup vegetables that he tossed my way. Onion, celery, bell pepper, garlic...looked like a New Orleans style dish tonight. Not surprising seeing as Jack was from the city. While I finely diced all the healthy stuff, per his instructions, Jack cleaned a pack of chicken thighs; all the while, Eddie sat behind us grumbling about one thing or another. I wasn't great in the kitchen, a well established fact after I gave everyone food poisoning after making lunch on my first day. Jack was a wizard in the kitchen, if I had my way he'd cook every single night, but he, Eddie, and Lucas, the other agent who lived with us full time, traded off.
Cpt. Lucas Black wasn't ever around much, he sort of just faded into the background. I only ever saw him when we were eating and even then he stayed quiet. He was a tall, stringy looking man that honestly made me uncomfortable. His fingers were really long, too long, and it freaked me out.
On Jack's command, I took my carefully sliced and diced vegetables to the skillet he's been heating up. I tossed them into the skillet and Jack nudged me out of the way immediately so he could do the cooking. I wasn't allowed to use the stove.
