ArchAngel update and snippets!

I tell you, this NaNoWriMo has a strange effect on me. It turns me from an ordinary human girl into a hunched-over, numb-fingered, single-minded beast, snarling over cups of coffee and tea, pounding away at the keyboard like a blacksmith at an anvil.

And I love every minute of it. Even the moments where writer’s block strikes you out of nowhere and you sit there wondering “What happens now?”

The moments that take you from


Even those moments where you sit there and go “…I WROTE that!?”

Anyway, I have now officially reached


(So, can you tell I’m a little bit obsessed with gifs right now? Yeah, I’ll tone down, I promise. 🙂 It’s just – they’re so much FUN!)

I thought, for your amusement and my feedback, I’d post a few snippets from ArchAngel so far. I hope you enjoy them, do tell me what you think (even if it’s negative. I can’t bite across the internet).

He kept his hand around his gun as he walked back to get his coffee. As he lifted it, his phone rang. He paused and pulled it out of his pocket.


Cautious, he pushed ‘talk’ and lifted it to his ear. “Hello?”

            “Do you love the girl?”

            Simon’s entire body froze. “What? Who is this?”

            “The girl, Simon. Do you love her?”

            “What girl?” No, no, no…

            “Reese. She has such lovely red hair – I knew a girl with red hair once. Do you want her to live? If you don’t, just say the word. If you do, then you’ll obey my instructions.”

            Simon was already striding to the door of Reese’s bedroom. The instant his hand touched the knob, the voice on the other end of the phone spoke again.

            “Ah-ah-ah, Simon. Don’t open that door.”


“Does anything scare you?” she asked again. “Because it’s frustrating being with someone who rolls with the punches like you do. It makes me feel like I can never freak out about anything.”

            “Doesn’t seem to stop you,” Simon grinned.     

            Reese slapped blindly at him and managed to hit his arm with a solid whack. “Very funny.”

            The doors slid open on the thirtieth floor and they stepped out. Reese stuck so close to Simon that they were nearly in sync as they walked over the receptionists’ desk.

            “Oh. It’s her.” Reese’s voice was flat and disapproving.

            “What do you have against the woman?” Simon demanded, keeping his voice low. “You don’t even know her.”

            “I know. I just don’t like her.”

            “Yeah, well, we need her to get us into Luther’s office, so be nice,” he said sternly.

            “Oh, hello again,” chirped the receptionist as they approached.

            “Wow,” muttered Reese in Simon’s ear. He did his best to subtly elbow her in the ribs.

            “Yeah, look, we need an appointment with Luther Conway as soon as possible. It’s really an emergency of sorts.” Simon gave the receptionist his most winning smile, while Reese made a quiet gagging nose behind him.

            “Oh, I see.” The receptionist faltered, looking torn between sending them in right away, and assigning them an appointment at a later date. “Well… let me ask him.”


“Great!” Reese threw up her hands, as if signaling the end of the world. “Who KNOWS where he’s going! He could be in a space shuttle, for all we know! He could be flying across the world! He could be in Iowa!”

            “If it’s any consolation, I doubt he’s inIowa,” said Simon, putting his hands in his pockets and squinting at the bright winter sun.

            “Oh? Why’s that?” she demanded, planting her hands on her hips again.

            “Because he hatesIowa,” was Simon’s short answer.

            “Almost as much as I hate him right now, I bet,” she huffed. They stood there in awkward silence for a moment before Reese asked, quite abruptly, “Do you want coffee?”

            “Yeah,” said Simon, jumping at the chance to do something rather than just stand there. They walked to the corner coffee shop and got in line.

            “What do you want?” Simon asked Reese.

            “Salted caramel mocha,” she answered. “Grande. Extra hot.”

            “Right,” he said, taking a brief moment to mentally jot the order down. He walked up to the counter. “One grande extra-hot salted caramel mocha,” he said, with a sideways glance at Reese, “and one tall latte.”

            “BO-ring,” mouthed Reese, crossing her arms and studying the selection of snacks behind glass.

            She glanced up when she realized that both Simon and the barista had stopped talking.


            “Are you going to add something to the order?” asked the barista.

            Reese straightened. “One blueberry muffin, thank you,” she said stiffly.

            Simon smothered a laugh and handed cash over to the girl behind the counter. He and Reese walked over to a table and sat down.

            “If your nose had been stuck any higher up, it’d have been in the stratosphere,” said Simon, grinning impishly at Reese.

            She stared at him. “What are you talking about?”

            “You. Being all prissy back there.”

            “I was NOT being prissy.”

            “Sure. Fine.” He leaned back in his seat and balanced the chair on its two back legs, his expression contradicting his words.

            Reese leaned her elbows on the table and tangled her fingers in her hair. “What are we going to do about Gabe?” she asked after a moment. She raised her eyes to meet Simon’s. “You’re a cop. Can’t you call in the force?”

            Simon barked in disbelief. “Why? Because a friend took an impromptu vacation?”


“If you’re looking for a pat on the back, you won’t get it,” saidGary, obviously disgruntled. He rotated his broad shoulders inside his Carhartt jacket. Simon looked down at the pavement, still smiling, as if secretly amused at something. “You’re gonna get yourself killed one of these days,” the police chief added again, looking at the younger man.

            “Only if you promise to come to the funeral.”

            “Sure, I’ll come. I may just lower the coffin myself.”

            “I knew I could count on you, Gary.”

            They both leaned against the car, savoring the crisp, early December air. “What are you doing for Christmas?”Garyventured at length.

            Simon shrugged.

            “You could always come over to my house. The wife likes you well enough. So do the kids.”

            The captain smiled at the mention of the Hackman twins. Six years old and rambunctious, they called him “Uncle Simon” and insisted on piggyback rides every visit. Over. And over. And over.

            “Thanks,” he said after a moment, squinting in the opposite direction at the bright sun. “I’ll think about it.”

           Garygave him a hard slap on the shoulder. “See you tomorrow, captain.”

            “And you, Chief.”

            As the chief’s car pulled away, the cell phone in Simon’s pocket rang. It had been set on “Canon in D” for as long as he could remember, which earned him no end of teasing from the rest of the force. They insisted he was the only police captain to have classical music as a ringtone.


I hope you enjoyed these snippets of ArchAngel!!! He’s coming along very well, if I say so myself! But I”d best be off now; lots of writing to do. (Oh; and to anyone who’s interested,  I bought a thirty-dollar purse for  four dollars today. I love it. It’s awesome. Also, we went to Barnes and Noble and I saw a book about the Hubble Telescope – and I thought ‘Hooble’. Thank you, Thor.)

Credendo Vides,



5 thoughts on “ArchAngel update and snippets!

  1. HaHA! I didn’t read the excerpt ’cause I’m trying to get caught up – but I saw the first few lines – and you gave me an idea. *evil laugh*


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