This excerpt is from the first rough draft of my contemporary romantic suspense. Words are unedited and subject to change. Copyright @ Desiree M. Ortega.
The wood creaked below my bare feet as the cold whispered up my legs, barely covered by the knee-length robe and sleepwear shorts underneath. My body gave way to an automatic shiver, a deep stuttered inhale filling my chest. Reaching the balcony, I stretched out my hand through the open door and let the crisp raindrops dance on my open palm, chilling my skin.
Another day lost, I thought, realizing I would not be painting outside again for the third day in a row. Something called to me, offering me to get lost in nature’s inspiration but ironically, nature’s call was being interrupted by the state of the sky.
Inside my cozy studio room would have to do. I’m not averse to using my indoor studio; in fact, I love the large bay windows that allow me the view that motivates colors on my canvas. There’s just been this restlessness that won’t shake from my bones that urges me to taste the air while I wave my brush.
Leaving the balcony doors open to listen to the tinkering sounds of rainfall, I wrapped myself up in my gray wool cardigan and headed for the kitchen for a necessary fix of caffeine.
Coffee in hand in my abstract terrazzo clay mug, I leaned my hip against the kitchen counter and stared across the room at the open balcony doors that landscaped the region’s breathtaking mountain view. That view is what sold me on spending my savings on a remote cabin in this small town where I seldom leave to converse with the locals.
Except for Friday nights. That’s my chance to fill up my social meter for the week and dine at the local pub. I’ve never regretted an outing before; not even when old man Briars came running in with vengeance and pain in his eyes after catching his old lady, Sarah with the town’s newest traveler. Shortly after his arrival, he hightailed it real quick once Briars informed him of his shotgun out back, in his truck. Sarah came running in crying, begging Briars to calm down and forgive her. The betrayal on his face was something that struck my chest like a brick and I found myself painting deep indigos and crimson that week.
No, as fearful as I was that night of possibly witnessing violence after taking a look at that stricken look in old man Briars’ eyes, I wouldn’t have changed a thing about those nights I ventured out.
Especially this past Friday night which was four days ago.
Update
Currently, writing chapter 10 and as of now, the document stands at 34,537 words. I'm officially on Act 2 of the story where events are picking up in the suspense category. I'm excited to explore this sub-genre more in my writing. I look forward to bringing you along with me on this journey of writing this manuscript project.
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