NaNoWriMo: Day 18 Progress

[renisanz]

So, I'm going along writing, and suddenly that it needs more character POVs. So, this morning I wrote this extended scene with Brendan, Miranda's ex, and his outing with Micah (their kid).

The following scene is a perfect example of why you haven't seen any excerpts from me lately. Actually, it's because most of what I've written so far has been rather blah, with me trying to get ahead on the word count, not trying to make it necessarily sound good.

This scene, however, quickly descended into crackerrific territory. But it was oh-so-much fun to write:

 

Excerpt:

As Brendan was signing the credit card receipt for the purchase of 3 pairs of shoes for Micah, his cell phone rang.

He handed the receipt to the Fit Specialist/cashier with a smile and turned away to answer his phone. The caller ID said it was Miranda. He was glad she was finally calling him back. He'd kind of panicked when he couldn't figure out what type of shoes to get Micah, so he'd called and asked Miranda. Then when Jacqui had asked where they would eat lunch, he'd called Miranda again to find out what kind of solid food Micah liked to and would eat. "Hey, Miranda." he said.

There was no response, but he heard voices on the other end of the line. He pressed his finger to his ear and listened. "Hello?" he repeated.

After moment her heard rustling, and then a female voice. "Let me go," his stomach sank as he heard the desperation in her voice.

"Miranda?" he said.

He waited for her to respond, but instead a male voice chimed in. There was a loud clatter, like a phone had been dropped, but the signal failed to disconnect, and Brendan continued to listen, trying desperately to figure out what was occurring on the other end of the line.

Jacqui sensed that something was amiss, "Brendan. . .?"

He held up his hand for her to be quiet, and his stomach turned as the conversation on the other end of the phone played out.

A few minutes later, Brendan hung up the phone.

"What's the matter?" Jacqui asked, the worry evident in her eyes. He saw that she had that she had gotten Micah situated in his stroller, and the little one was already napping, despite the noise in the shopping center, oblivious to all that was going on. Brendan envied his son.

"I'm sorry, we have to go. Now."

"Why? What happened?" Jacqui asked as Brendan leaned down to pick Micah up out of the stroller. It would be faster just to carry him and fold the stroller up to take with them. He walked at a hurried pace out of the Mall and into the parking lot.

"Brendan?" Jacqui questioned as her high-heeled leather boots clicked against the asphalt.

They arrived at the car, and Brendan unlocked and open her door. "Just get in," he said, before moving to put Micah in the back. He set Micah in the car seat and was glad to see that he was still sleeping soundly.

"You talked to Miranda?" Jacqui asked. She was turned in her seat facing the back.

"Brendan sighed. "Yeah. I don't know what all is going on," he shook his head as if the action could shake the memory of what he'd heard, of his father's words, from his mind. "I just need to get to Miranda as soon as possible."

With Micah secure, he leaned back out of the car and walked around to the driver's side. He got inside, and started the car.

"I'm sorry, Brendan."

He turned to his expecting more questions and worry on her freckled face. He was greeted instead with the barrel of a gun. "What the the. . ." he jumped back, the blood roaring in his ears.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asked. It took all his might to tear his eyes away from the weapon to look into the woman's face. "Is this some kind of joke?"

"Far from it, love. I simply can't allow you interfere," she said nonchalantly, as if holding up her date with a gun was an everyday thing for her. Brendan was starting to think that might not be far from the truth. And then there was her accent.

"You're British?!"

Jacqui shrugged. "Consider my cover blown. The Southern accent is always fun, and now you've spoiled it," she pouted.

"Who are you?" Brendan gaped. He needed time to think, to stall.

"That's none of your concern. Drive," she gestured towards the steering wheel with the gun.

. . . . . . . . . .

Yeah. It get's worse. LOL.

Anyway, I'm excited to finally be (a little) ahead on my word count.

 

30129 / 50000 words. 60% done!

Comments

[krissie678.livejournal.com]

It's looking great so far.:)

In other news, I didn't know if you heard or not, but 4 of your stories are nominated at the Isis Awards. Congrats!
http://www.isisawards.net/nominees08.php?m=21&f=39

[renisanz.livejournal.com]

Thank you. :)

Yes, I am aware of the noms, or rather that a few people had nominated some of my fic. Thanks for the link. It's very cool. :)