Diana Pharaoh Francis | Diana P. Francis | Diana Francis


Saturday, August 8th, 2009
snippet sat . . err . . sunday

Yeah, I’m late. No wait! I’m early! Sunday! Snippet Sunday! It’s still alliterative.

From Bitter NIght, since it’s coming soon:

Her gaze ran over him. He was maybe seventeen and cute beneath the ugly uniform and acne. His face was still curved with baby fat, but in a few years he was going to be a lady-killer. She felt her face hardening. In a few years, he’d be a tempting target for a witch. He blanched at the sudden violence in her expression and took a step back. She heard his heart start to race and smelled the sour scent of fear. In a minute he’d pee his pants.

Fuck. She grabbed her change and the coke cup and went to fill it. She leaned her hip against a bolted down chair and studied the floor until her burgers were ready. No danger here. No danger here. She repeated it to herself, hoping Todd would feel it and believe. When he plopped the two grocery-sized sacks on the counter, she grabbed them without a word and strode out the door.

And now, your turn. Bring it on. Show me what you’re working on.

2 comments to “snippet sat . . err . . sunday”

  1. David Lee Jones
    Comment
    1
     · August 9th, 2009 at 12:59 am · Link

    Di,
    I love your new look on your website. Kudos!
    I have to apologize though, I have been so busy with promoting my book I have not been able to read your latest. I have already purchased all of the Crosspointe books, I just have not had time to start them. Please forgive this GRAVE oversight!

    Despite this, I am still your biggest fan though!

    Love ya,
    David Lee Jones



  2. David Lee Jones
    Comment
    2
     · August 9th, 2009 at 1:09 am · Link

    Here is a snippet from my latest titled THE SHAMAN STICK

    …The Indian Exchange was the quintessential country souvenir shop. A hodgepodge of items from batteries and blankets to sunscreen lined it’s sagging shelves. There seemed to be no organization to the distribution of the store’s merchandise. In the back of the store was a large room that had been haphazardly added to the main building. Rough splintered planks stabbed at passersby as they passed through the room’s arched entrance.

    “My camera needs new batteries,” Marlene turned to Louise noticing her still trancelike state, “are you gonna be okay? Do you need some aspirin or tylenol?”

    Her cousin nodded idly and Marlene wandered slowly towards the front counter of the store reluctant to leave Louise’s side. After purchasing her items she saw Louise at the back of the store under the arched entranceway with a colorful wood cut sign which read “authenic souveniers”.

    Louise shuffled forward like a zombie and disappeared into the room beyond. Marlene quickly followed concerned for her cousin in the strange state she was in.

    At the archway she had to pause a moment as she studied several totem like figures painted upon the large wooden beam that trimmed the outer arch. These were painted in non offending earth tones with splashes of bright red here and a splashes of gold there. Marlene could not help herself as the images seem to pull her in and she found herself studying them with ever growing scrutiny. It was as if something was tugging on her very soul and she could not pull free until one of the splintered edges of rough rough wood pierced her skin as she leaned in too close.

    She suddenly snapped back to reality as neurons fired and signaled the pain to her brain. She rubbed the wound on her forearm grimacing as she noticed a rather large splinter of darkwood had lodged itself deep under her skin. The skin around the intruding chunk of debris was already turning red with irritation.

    Within the large room the merchandise of the store’s namesake crowded countless shelves basking in the waning sunlight of the dying day. The sunset made the room glow in an odd red light.

    “This is new” she mumbled to herself as she scanned the room for Louise.

    After a long moment due to her disorientation she finally spotted Louise near a glass counter talking to a dark skinned man with jet black hair. As she made her way over a shooting pain shot up her arm from the fresh wound. She gingerly touched the gash and noticed it was hot to the touch….



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