Tuesday Tag
Written by:
Welcome to the next installment of Tuesday Tag – a serialized story wrote each week by someone new. Last week Margaret tagged me to write the next scene. If you’d like to get in on the fun it’s real simple to do so. All you have to do is know the rules (listed below) and inform us that you’re interested.
Simple, right?
Of course… so, these are the rules of the game:
1. Read the previous Tuesday Tag Posts so you know what the story's about.
2. Write your scene - suggested word count is somewhere around 500 words.
3. Make sure your scene doesn't contain anything offensive and that it continues on in a sensible way from the previous post.*
4. If you're tagged (and we will make sure you're ok with it beforehand), you must write the scene in time for the Tuesday Tag Post - that means you'll have a week, no more, no less.
5. Tell us a little about yourself so we can do the introductory post right here, on Critique This WIP.
6. Have fun!
*we reserve the right to de-tag you if your scene is unacceptable.
So, here's a little about me:
I have three kids, two dogs, and one cat… as if my life wasn’t hectic enough, I dream of becoming a published author. Romance makes everything in life better, in my opinion. If the guy gets the girl, I’m a happy camper. The movies where that don’t happen are deemed “stupid movies” to me and never watched again (sorry, Nights of Rodanthe… I know I rushed out and bought you as soon as you were released and you’ve collected dust ever since. Hey, I don’t like wasting Kleenex… so sue me.). Aside from here at CTW, you can also find me at my personal blog, Writer Junkie.
Okay, I’ll stop torturing you with my sleepy attempt at humor… on with my scene!
***
Jocelyn awoke to loud, insistent pounding. The sound barged inside her skull and forced all other thoughts but shutting up the pounding from her mind.
“Go away!” The words echoed between her temples, intensifying the pounding. She cupped her temples in her palms, moaning as the pain lessened slightly.
“Hang over, Princess?” A deep, masculine voice penetrated the intense thump-thump-thump between her palms.
She squeaked, grabbed her coverlets and pulled it to her chin, as her eyes popped wide. Through the blurry image – and shooting pain – she recognized Colin reclining on her bed. Looking way more relaxed then he had any right too.
A lock of his wavy brown hair rested on his forehead. Blue eyes sparkled in the morning light streaming through her white lace curtains and those dimples that made her weak in the knees graced her morning wake up call.
“What are you doing in here, Colin?” She whispered. Not only because mother would likely have him skinned alive if she found out Colin was in her home, much less her daughter bedroom, but because the headache that woke her was still beating a vicious melody behind her eyes.
“I heard about the wedding that never was. How could I not come here? What are best friends for?”
“Mother would not accept that as a reasonable excuse for you to be in my bed at-” she glanced at the alarm clock, “-six o’clock in the morning?”
Oh, my God. He had to show up at six? He couldn’t have let me sleep until noon?
She relaxed back against the thick pillows. The horizontal position eased the headache, but only slightly, as she turned to look Colin in the eyes.
He traced his forefinger across her jaw-line to her chin, his eyes held understand and something much more intimate. Something she wasn’t ready to identify while he was lounging in her bed.
“What kind of friend would I be if I left you to deal with the emotional fall-out of Marie Claire all on your own?”
“An alive friend?”
“That’s not-”
“Jocelyn.” A knock – unrelated to her hangover – sounded from the seating room section of her private quarters.
“Oh, my god! It’s mother.” She shoved at Colin’s chest. “Get out of here! No, hide somewhere!”
Colin ducked beneath the satin bed-skirt in the nick of time. Heat rushed to her cheeks as she turned from where he disappeared to her setting room. Mother strolled into the room with all the grace of a queen entering her throne room.
“Exactly what do you think you’re doing, young lady?”
****
If YOU want to be tagged in the near future (and get in on the fun!) please let us know via comments or e-mail at critiquethiswip(at)gmail(dot)com.
Simple, right?
Of course… so, these are the rules of the game:
1. Read the previous Tuesday Tag Posts so you know what the story's about.
2. Write your scene - suggested word count is somewhere around 500 words.
3. Make sure your scene doesn't contain anything offensive and that it continues on in a sensible way from the previous post.*
4. If you're tagged (and we will make sure you're ok with it beforehand), you must write the scene in time for the Tuesday Tag Post - that means you'll have a week, no more, no less.
5. Tell us a little about yourself so we can do the introductory post right here, on Critique This WIP.
6. Have fun!
*we reserve the right to de-tag you if your scene is unacceptable.
So, here's a little about me:
I have three kids, two dogs, and one cat… as if my life wasn’t hectic enough, I dream of becoming a published author. Romance makes everything in life better, in my opinion. If the guy gets the girl, I’m a happy camper. The movies where that don’t happen are deemed “stupid movies” to me and never watched again (sorry, Nights of Rodanthe… I know I rushed out and bought you as soon as you were released and you’ve collected dust ever since. Hey, I don’t like wasting Kleenex… so sue me.). Aside from here at CTW, you can also find me at my personal blog, Writer Junkie.
Okay, I’ll stop torturing you with my sleepy attempt at humor… on with my scene!
***
Jocelyn awoke to loud, insistent pounding. The sound barged inside her skull and forced all other thoughts but shutting up the pounding from her mind.
“Go away!” The words echoed between her temples, intensifying the pounding. She cupped her temples in her palms, moaning as the pain lessened slightly.
“Hang over, Princess?” A deep, masculine voice penetrated the intense thump-thump-thump between her palms.
She squeaked, grabbed her coverlets and pulled it to her chin, as her eyes popped wide. Through the blurry image – and shooting pain – she recognized Colin reclining on her bed. Looking way more relaxed then he had any right too.
A lock of his wavy brown hair rested on his forehead. Blue eyes sparkled in the morning light streaming through her white lace curtains and those dimples that made her weak in the knees graced her morning wake up call.
“What are you doing in here, Colin?” She whispered. Not only because mother would likely have him skinned alive if she found out Colin was in her home, much less her daughter bedroom, but because the headache that woke her was still beating a vicious melody behind her eyes.
“I heard about the wedding that never was. How could I not come here? What are best friends for?”
“Mother would not accept that as a reasonable excuse for you to be in my bed at-” she glanced at the alarm clock, “-six o’clock in the morning?”
Oh, my God. He had to show up at six? He couldn’t have let me sleep until noon?
She relaxed back against the thick pillows. The horizontal position eased the headache, but only slightly, as she turned to look Colin in the eyes.
He traced his forefinger across her jaw-line to her chin, his eyes held understand and something much more intimate. Something she wasn’t ready to identify while he was lounging in her bed.
“What kind of friend would I be if I left you to deal with the emotional fall-out of Marie Claire all on your own?”
“An alive friend?”
“That’s not-”
“Jocelyn.” A knock – unrelated to her hangover – sounded from the seating room section of her private quarters.
“Oh, my god! It’s mother.” She shoved at Colin’s chest. “Get out of here! No, hide somewhere!”
Colin ducked beneath the satin bed-skirt in the nick of time. Heat rushed to her cheeks as she turned from where he disappeared to her setting room. Mother strolled into the room with all the grace of a queen entering her throne room.
“Exactly what do you think you’re doing, young lady?”
****
If YOU want to be tagged in the near future (and get in on the fun!) please let us know via comments or e-mail at critiquethiswip(at)gmail(dot)com.
Oh man, this is shaping up to be so much fun!
I'm excited to see what happens next.
Love it! ; )