Jade C. Jamison's Blog, page 23

A to Z Challenge: I is for INTERROGATION

For the A-to-Z April Blogging Challenge, I’m writing a story, aiming for 1000 words a day (every day except Sundays). Continuing today with part 7 of a story about the character Codie Snow.

If you’re new to this series of posts, you might want to start here:

A is for ACCEPTING the Challenge
C is for CODIE

NOTE: I have to tell you this: I always start sweating when I give my freshly written babies to beta readers or ARCs to bloggers and reviewers or when a book goes live. It feels a lot like holding my breath, waiting for the moment when I can take air into my lungs again. This? This A-to-Z experiment (well, not the challenge itself but the subject matter I chose—that is, the decision to write a story) is both better and worse than those feelings. In some ways, it’s better, because I’m telling you as I go that this is a rough draft, that it is, of course, not my best writing. It’s rough and raw and unpolished. But it’s also worse, because I’m kind of letting you behind my curtain. I’m letting you see how messy my writing is before I click the Publish button—I’m letting you judge it without even trying to make it worthy to be judged. And I’m allowing you to see all the monumental screw-ups and wrong turns and ridiculous errors I make in my messy writing process.

But as stressful as all that is to me, know what? I wouldn’t change a thing. It’s like holding my breath under water, but it’s also fun. It’s kind of liberating, and I think it will be cool for those of you following along to see how it evolves (although, like many a beta reader, you might not want to see it again)! Much of my writing undergoes quite a bit of evolution (whether it’s prewriting evolution or the changes come after it’s on paper), and all that is to make the story the best it can be. If I didn’t care, I’d just leave it as is, but I make my writing as perfect as possible for you, dear reader.

That said, this is kind of like one of those “Making of” documentaries, a behind-the-scenes look at a movie. And I guess, rather than waxing poetic, that I should actually write said story. So here we go!

As the three of them—Codie, Pete, and the man named Tanner—walked toward the back of the house, Codie tried to wrap her mind around the oddness of the situation. There was a woman’s dead body in the basement. The house was packed with people, as though there had been a party of some sort, and the deceased’s husband and one of his friends were chatting in the kitchen over a cup of java, acting as though it were just another evening.

Oh, and the prayer room. What the hell was that?

Codie knew she’d find out soon enough, and in a few moments, the thin blonde man named Tanner turned a doorknob and felt along the wall inside the room for the light switch before stepping aside to let Codie and her cop friend inside.

She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t what she walked into. It was a stark white room without windows—whether this room had been built that way or had it been modified later, Codie didn’t have a clue, but it was unusual. It was bright inside with the lights on. The wall to the right was nothing but several sliding doors covering what Codie assumed was a closet and the other three walls were all but bare, save for a few crosses hanging strategically, so that if a person’s eyes were open, it was hard to avoid seeing at least one. Most of them were simple crosses, but one was a depiction of the crucifixion of Jesus Christ. The carpet was a light beige and a few gray mats were scattered here and there on the floor. There was a stack of blue plastic chairs in one corner and one short table in another that held one Bible and a couple of pamphlets, but Codie couldn’t see what was on them.

“This is the prayer room,” Tanner said, looking at them through pale blue eyes framed by some of the longest lashes Codie had ever seen on a grown man. As if reading her mind, he said, “It’s a little bare, but that’s to keep our minds as free from distraction as possible.”

Our minds? So he lived there with the couple? That was kind of creepy.

Pete pulled a small notebook out of his front pocket, and Codie almost laughed. She’d had no idea he had one of those too…but it made sense, of course. “If you’d like to sit, we can take some chairs off the stack.”

“I’m all right,” Pete said, not asking Codie or the other man if they wanted to sit. She imagined he wouldn’t want to sit after being crammed in the patrol car for hours on end. Standing was likely a welcome break for his legs. “Mr. Johnson, can you tell me your relationship to the deceased?”

“She was a friend. Through the church, you know.”

“What church?” Pete’s question sounded bland and matter of fact but Codie suspected it was important information.

“The International Congregation of the End of Days.”  Wow.  That was kind of a mouthful.

Codie hoped her facial expression wouldn’t give away her thoughts, but what she knew of the congregation—what she’d heard, at any rate—was that they were a fringe cult: not quite all controlling but close. She didn’t think she’d ever met any of the members, even in as small a community as Dalton, but they were a thriving enough force that their presence could be felt here and there. Truthfully, though, she didn’t know much about them. She only knew that they supposedly owned lots of property in Dalton as well as other areas in Kansas, Oklahoma, and eastern Colorado.

Rumors, though. She had few facts.

“Tell me what happened this evening.”

Tanner blinked and looked over at Codie before returning his gaze to Pete. “I don’t know how familiar you are with our church, but those of us here are part of Caleb’s ministry.”

“Here? As in Dalton or the house?”

Tanner’s lips curled into an almost condescending smile as he realized that Pete didn’t know much about their arrangement—but neither did Codie for that matter. “In the house. Or houses, I should say.”

“Tell me about that.”

“Well…this house here. This house is for the brothers in Caleb’s ministry, and the house next door is for our sisters.” Codie was fairly certain the man meant sisters and brothers figuratively.

Pete nodded, jotting in his notepad before making eye contact with Tanner again. “So was Mr. Dinsmoor’s wife visiting?”

“No. She was the exception. She and Caleb shared the entire downstairs and the rest of us—the men—have rooms we share with other brothers. But because Caleb and Michelle joined to symbolize Christ’s relationship with his bride the church, he thought it only appropriate that they celebrate that union together. But, um, she still spent a lot of time in the sister house.”

Pete pulled the man back on track. “So tell me what happened tonight.”

“Tonight we were celebrating. Caleb’s ministry, for the moment, is completely full, meaning there’s just no more room in the inn for warm bodies.” The man’s thin lips curled up into a smile. Ah… religious humor. But the timing was bad. Surely, he had to know that. He figured it out and quickly started talking again. “We added one more lost lamb to our fold here in the brothers’ house, and so we were celebrating the bounty that the Lord has given us. Anyway, Michelle came home from work and said she had a headache and headed straight down to the basement. She didn’t even give Caleb the hug she customarily does.”

“Did she act like anything was wrong?”

Tanner shook his head. “No, not physically, anyway.”

“Some other way then?”

“Well, she’s been acting pretty down and depressed the last month or two. When she and Caleb got married last fall, she seemed so happy, like she was on a cloud, because all she’d ever wanted was Caleb. But by Christmas, she kind of moped around all the time. She just doesn’t—didn’t—seem to have the joy of the spirit inside her anymore.”

“Where did Mrs. Dinsmoor work?”

“At a daycare center here in town. I can’t remember which one.”

“Where were you and all the house members all evening? Was everyone accounted for? Did anyone go downstairs at any time?”

“I didn’t notice anyone slip down there. Like I said, we were all celebrating.”

Pete looked up from the notebook. “Anything else you think I should know right now?”

Tanner’s mouth scrunched up at the corner. “Not that I can think of.” He paused. “You don’t think she was murdered, do you?”

“I’m not at liberty to speculate, Mr. Johnson. Forensics will tell us the facts soon enough.” He placed the notebook back in his breast pocket where it was hidden again and said, “We’ll probably need you to come to the station to make a formal statement at some point, but we’re done for now.”

The easy demeanor that had been displayed by Tanner up to this point was replaced by a chilly sensation. Codie wondered what the hell that even meant as they walked back toward the kitchen, Pete’s interrogation complete.

UP NEXT: J is for JAVA

A Deal You Don’t Want to Miss!

In case you hadn’t heard the news, I’ve put the first three Tangled Web books in a box set–complete with bonus stories.  99 cents until release day, so if you want to pick it up, you’ll want to do it quickly!

Tangled Web Series Box Set

includes Tangled Web, Everything But, and Punctured, Bruised, and Barely Tattooed

and three bonus short stories!

Jade C. Jamison

 

Release Date: April 19, 2016

Genres: Contemporary Romance, Erotic Romance, Rock Star Romance, New Adult

Audience: 18+ due to sexual situations, drug use, adult language

Length: 188,000 words

Links

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1MLYbSE

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1qgNRbK

B&N: http://bit.ly/1MPNY7W

Kobo: http://bit.ly/1ZZ8q8x

iTunes: http://apple.co/1NiAoF4

Google Play: http://bit.ly/23kueNK

Blurb

Jade C. Jamison’s “other” rock star romance series!

Includes Tangled Web, Everything But, and the companion novel Punctured, Bruised, and Barely Tattooed…as well as three never-before-seen bonus stories! 99 cents until release day!

TANGLED WEB (#1) Katie Logan has had a secret crush on her best friend Johnny Church since high school, but he’s never looked at her the same way. So when Johnny—now a famous rock star—comes home to visit, Katie can’t bring herself to tell him she’s engaged to be married. She should have, though, because she soon discovers that maybe the attraction is mutual…

EVERYTHING BUT (#2) High school English teacher Erin Lancaster is stuck with the unwelcome job of filling in for the injured cheerleading coach, but she wants to back out when she discovers she has to be auctioned as a date during the annual spring fundraiser. She’s horrified to find her rock star crush Riley Schultz, former frontman of Spawn, will be playing emcee for the event, but she’s even more shocked that he also happens to be the highest bidder for her affections, and sparks fly when she discovers that maybe their attraction is mutual.

Riley’s been in the music business long enough to know that true love is not in the cards for him, but the cute blonde he’s dropped a wad of cash on would be a welcome distraction during his vacation. He has no idea there’s more to her than meets the eye.

Will one week together be enough for them to quell the flames, to enjoy everything but?

PUNCTURED, BRUISED, AND BARELY TATTOOED (companion novel) Kory McCallister has had her eyes on tattoo artist Stone Bowman for quite some time—so long, in fact, that no other guy will do. Stone pushes every turn on button Kory has—he’s tattooed from head to toe; he’s hot; he’s funny and charming; and he’s also mysterious. So when Kory’s friends dare her to ask Stone out on a date, she can’t believe she actually finds the guts to do it.

More surprising? He takes her up on the offer.

She discovers that, while his past might not be quite as dark or mysterious as she’d imagined, it’s bigger than she’d expected, and it’s something she will need to contend with if she decides she wants to keep him around to color her life for good.

Excerpts

From Tangled Web:

Katie went back in the bedroom and opened a drawer, pulling out a pair of fresh panties. As she slid them up her legs, her thoughts drifted back to last night. God, Johnny had played her just like one of his guitars. He was a maestro. She couldn’t remember a time that she had orgasmed so easily, let alone twice in such a short time. And just thinking about it made her feel giddy and guilty at the same time. There was no way to undo any of it. She didn’t know that she wanted to.

“Christ,” Johnny muttered from the bed, half his mouth muffled by the pillow. “I had no idea you had such a smokin’ hot body.”

She hadn’t even known he was awake, and she felt startled. She inhaled, taking her time sucking the air into her lungs. What the hell could she—should she—say to that? If she hadn’t been so wracked with guilt, she might have taken that as a compliment. Instead, she just wanted to bury her head in the drawer. And she felt so…naked. It didn’t matter that he’d seen and felt all of her last night. She spied her bra on the floor beside the dresser and snatched it up.

She wasn’t sure how to handle this situation yet. She would have to say something in response to Johnny. She just didn’t know how or what. And at some point she’d have to tell him everything, whether she wanted to or not. She knew her morning run would clear her head. She’d be able to spend the time running figuring out what to say, how to say it…

From Everything But:

Erin twisted up her mouth in mock irritation but she hoped he could see she was smiling underneath it. “So how’s the game work?”

“What token do you want to play?”

That was a no brainer. She’d play the piece she’d always played as a kid. “The thimble.”

“Aw…how cute.”

She rolled her eyes. “And what about you, Mr. Rock Star? What piece do you want to play?”

“It’s a toss up, but I guess I’ll play man’s best friend.” Riley set both the thimble and the dog tokens at Start. “Now…here are the rules. You ready?” She smiled and nodded and took a sip of her tea. “Okay…we play it like real Monopoly, only with a few twists. So…if you land on one of the utilities or a Railroad or Chance or Community Chest, you still have to do that stuff, but…you also have to say something about yourself that I didn’t know.”

“And you do that too, right?”

“Right. It can be anything. You decide what you want to share. The only thing is it can’t be something I already know.”

“Easy enough. So who goes first?”

“Wait…that’s not all.” She looked at him and saw the twinkle in his eye. “Like I said, we’re playing the game for real, so you’ll buy properties as you go around the board, but if one of us lands on something that belongs to the other, we have to remove an article of clothing.”

“What? You mean, like strip Monopoly?”

His smile didn’t fade. “Yeah.” She pondered it and knew exactly where it would go if they played the game.

From Punctured, Bruised, and Barely Tattooed:

“Can I come in for a minute?”

Kory frowned at herself in the mirror. She still had residual makeup on—she wore her eyeliner so heavy that it would take lots of scrubbing to get it all off her eyes—but her face looked strange and naked. Still, she had nothing to hide.

Stone had amazed her. When she’d gotten up, he’d already had a workout (but she didn’t know if he had workout equipment or had just jogged around his property), shower, and said he’d worked on some drawings. She wondered if he did that every morning or if she’d simply made it impossible for him to sleep.

She supposed she should maybe feel weird around him now, but she didn’t. She only wondered what his huge fucking secret was…and then felt a little stupid, because she wasn’t ready to give up her own secrets anytime soon. “Yeah, sure.”

He took his time as if to give her a moment to collect herself, and the door pushed open slowly. She continued pulling the comb through her hair, though, and she didn’t have to force a smile when he came in.

What was that look on his face? She couldn’t read it. Surprise, maybe? He grinned. “You sure everything’s okay? You’ve been awfully quiet since breakfast.”

She couldn’t help the smirk. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you wanted me shouting to you from the shower.”

He laughed. “No, that’s not what I mean.”

She finished running the comb through her hair and pulled the few strands in its teeth out so she could throw them in the trashcan next to the toilet. “What do you mean?”

Stone Bowman at a loss for words. Yeah, he was. He shrugged and got closer to her. Shit. She knew it. She must look like a fucking teenager without the makeup. Yeah, that had to be why he was staring at her.

Or…not. He cupped her neck and rubbed his thumb on her cheek. “Did you know you are gorgeous? Why do you cake your makeup on like you do?”

“Cake it?”

“Yeah. You’re hiding the best parts of yourself.”

“Ha. Bullshit.”

“Not bullshit.” He leaned over and brushed her lips with his. She felt a buzz pulse through her body.

She took a deep breath.   “You are distracting the shit out of me.”

That smirk. God, that would be infuriating if it wasn’t so goddamned sexy. “I am?”

Kory swallowed, unable to mask her emotions from him. She simply nodded her head. His eyes searched hers, almost unbelieving, and then he grinned and said, “Your first class is at nine?”

A small breath escaped her lips as she considered him. “Yeah.”

“That’s a little less than two hours from now. I can still get you there on time…with a latte in hand.” She laughed then. He was obsessed with getting her that damned coffee. But then he touched her neck with his lips and the laughter ceased as her nipples pebbled under the damp towel in anticipation. He looked at her then, placing a warm finger in the dip just under her neck and tracing it straight down till it hit the edge of the white towel, and he followed his finger with his eyes. “I still want to lick you till you come.” He raised his gaze slowly, drinking in every detail of her skin, up her chin, until he burned holes in her eyes with the intensity. “Do you feel like you could let me try?”

 

Sales Info

Seal All Exits will be on sale for 99 cents the day the box set releases.

SEAL ALL EXITS (Tangled Web #3)

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1zZ8V9k

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1zpYTNo

B&N: http://bit.ly/15dswVM

Kobo: http://bit.ly/1vc2cXv

iTunes: http://bit.ly/1qRT6It

Google Play: http://bit.ly/1QSRtcM

Author Interview: Lashell Collins

Lashell Collins writes rock star romance books just I do, but some she writes with a paranormal twist.  She and I met a while ago through a couple of rock star romance author groups on Facebook!  I recently interviewed Lashell in March, and this is our conversation!

Lashell, thank you for answering questions for me today. I first met you because you were part of the Rockstars Among Us group I was invited to, and we’re now part of a solid Rock Star VIP group. Please tell me how long you’ve been writing (both published and unpublished).

Well, that’s actually a tricky question. I’ve been writing for as long as I can remember. It was always one of my favorite things to do. But I got started writing for a certain rock star fan club website back in 1998 or ’99, and I did that off and on up until 2010 when I started writing romance stories. I self-published my first book in February of 2013. I’m now about to release my eighteenth title on March 29, 2016. [Readers, you can check out Lashell’s new book Rogue Moon on Amazon.]

Woohoo!  Congrats!  You and I both write rock star romance. Can you tell me how many rock star books you’ve written? What has inspired you to write in this particular romance sub-genre?

So far, I’ve released six rock star romances. Five of those are the Jagged Ivory series. JI was my first fictional rock band, and those boys have been very good to me. The sixth rock star romance is book one in a paranormal rock star series called the Rock Shifter Fairytales, and book 2 of that series is in edits right now. Also, I’m working on book 1 of a new rock star series that’s tentatively titled the Outlaw Series, but that title is subject to change. AND I’ve got a rock star holiday series of novellas planed for the 2016 holiday season. So … a lot of rock stars coming up from me this year!

As for what inspired me to step into the rock star romance genre … basically, I’m just a HUGE music fan and I love rock stars. They are insanely sexy and wickedly talented. Full of passion and angst and a fire to create and perform and entertain that burns deep in their souls. I am a music nut, and I love all types of music, from classical to ’80s pop, but rock and roll in particular speaks to me. And writing about the men (and women) who create it is like an escape for me. My daydreams and fantasies come to life in the rockstar romances I write.

I think we’re a lot alike in that regard. Can you tell me who are your favorite bands? What’s the last concert you attended?

YES! Like I said, I adore rock music. My most favorite band in the world right now is Slash’s latest band – Slash ft. Myles Kennedy and the Conspirators (SMKC for short). In my opinion, there is nothing better than Slash on guitar and Myles Kennedy on vocals. Those two together are pure magic! But I also love Alter Bridge, Aerosmith, Nickelback, Joan Jett, and absolutely anything featuring Todd Kerns. In fact, the last concert I attended was an acoustic show Todd Kerns did in Vegas in February in support of his upcoming album, TKO.

Oh!  I love SMKC too!  You and I could probably talk music all day long.  Do you have a bestselling or “breakout” book you’d like to tell me about?

Unfortunately, not yet. I’ve had certain books hit the top 100 on different charts on Amazon, but I’m still waiting for that real (what I would consider) “breakout” book.

Here’s hoping it happens soon for you.  Have you written in other genres or do you plan to? Please tell me about them.

Yes, I actually write in two other genres – Romantic Suspense and Shifter (PNR) Romance. I currently have an ongoing Romantic Suspense series called The Kelly Family. It’s about a family of police officers and the ups and downs they go through on the job and in their love lives. There are currently six titles in that series with one on the way. I’m also currently working on book 1 of a new romantic suspense series called The Issac Taylor Mysteries.

As for paranormal, I have a shifter romance trilogy called Lunar Falls. It’s about the werewolves living in my home state of Ohio. Then there’s the Rock Shifter Fairytales series that I mentioned before. And my latest release is actually another shifter romance novella called Rogue Moon, and it’s book 1 in a new series as well.

It seems a good many authors struggle with writer’s block. How do you cope with that particular problem?

Well, I’ve actually been really fortunate and that doesn’t happen often to me. But one of the ways I avoid it is that my natural writing process is to plot. I’m a big time plotter! I’m one of those writers who plots an entire story from start to finish before I ever write a single word. And my outlines can get extremely detailed, so much so that I’ve actually come to think of that outline as my first draft of the story. It’s that important of a step for me. And I find that once I have the story all plotted out, there’s really no room for writer’s block to creep in because if I’ve outlined properly, then I always know exactly where the story is going.

Now that’s not to say that the characters don’t sometimes take control of the wheel and steer me in a totally different direction, because that happens occasionally. And when it does, I go with it, but I’ll actually go back and revise my outline just to keep everything straight in my head.

Any rituals you perform before, during, or after you write? Anything you do to get “in the zone”?

I tend to make a playlist for each story, or each series, and I’ll listen to that playlist quite a bit as I’m writing because I feel like it helps me to get into my character’s heads a little bit. Also after finishing a story and getting it back from the editor and everything, I’ll usually treat myself to a Krispy Kreme or something.

Any of your characters you love more than any others? Hate? Any of them “speak” to you more loudly?

I can’t say that I love any of them more than the others, but my first hero – his name was Joshua Pierce – he will always be special to me because he was my first.

How much of you can we find in your characters? Can you give us an example?

Well, I think there’s a little bit of me in many of my characters, just like there’s a little bit of my husband in others. But I think the one that is most like me would have to be Dr. Carly Tipton of the Lunar Falls trilogy, only because she’s from my hometown and the story takes place in Ohio. And she’s a veterinarian, and I worked in the veterinary field for many years before I started writing.

If we had to read one book of yours, which one would you recommend and why?

Only one? Oh, gosh, that’s too hard! That’s like choosing between your children! I can’t answer that.

Ha ha! That’s what I always say too! Tell me about something exciting or weird that’s happened to you since becoming an author.

Well, it’s always awesome hearing from readers who have read my books and enjoyed them. That always makes the day special for me. But one very exciting thing that’s happened was getting to meet my favorite rock star and having him agree to an interview for an upcoming book. That was the freaking coolest night of my life, and getting to know him and interview him has been amazing.

Ooh.  I can’t wait to hear more about that in the near future!  What else do we need to know about you and/or your books?

I guess what you should know is that you’re always going to get the same thing from me. You’re always going to get a happily-ever-after. Always. You’re always going to get a satisfying story with an actual plot, and not just a bunch of sex scenes with little substance. And you can always count on my stories having one of three tropes – cops, werewolves, or rock stars. Always. In fact, you’re likely to find more than one of those tropes in any given story.

Lashell Collins is an Amazon bestselling author of romantic fiction. You can stalk her at the following places…

Website: http://lashellcollins.com/

Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/LashellCollinsAuthor/

Facebook Profile: https://www.facebook.com/lashell.collins.9

Facebook Reader Page: https://www.facebook.com/groups/853329598037117/

Rockstars Among Us: https://www.facebook.com/groups/503989643074118/

Rockstar VIP: Main Stage: https://www.facebook.com/groups/443969222459600/

The Wolf Pack: https://www.facebook.com/groups/1435064660059434/

Book Chat: http://www.tracieandlashell.com/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/LashellCollins

Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Lashell-Collins/e/B00BHMAURS/ref=dp_byline_cont_ebooks_1

A to Z Challenge: H is for HOMICIDE

For the A-to-Z April Blogging Challenge, I’m writing a story, aiming for 1000 words a day (every day except Sundays). Continuing today with part 6 of a story about the character Codie Snow.

If you’re new to this series of posts, you might want to start here:

A is for ACCEPTING the Challenge
C is for CODIE

Today’s segment of the story took a long while to write.  I had a lot of research to conduct.  But finally, just in the nick of time, here we go!

Even though it only took a few minutes to get to the address of the murder, there were already two other police vehicles there—one was an unmarked car. Pete said, in a voice that offered no arguments, “Stay here.” She watched him get out and walk over to a plainclothes officer standing beside a cop car. They stood chatting for a few minutes, but there was no way Codie could have tried to eavesdrop without being noticed. The window was rolled up and the car off. More than that, though, was the constant police radio. The sound of that damned thing was going to drive her nuts.

Soon, though, Pete walked back to the car and opened the passenger door. “Want to come inside?”

Holy shit. Did she ever. Now this was what she’d signed up for. She didn’t want to seem too eager, though. “Yes, I’d like that.”

“Let’s go.” She followed pace with him and the other guy. “Not a word.”

“Okay.” She was finally getting her wish, so if Pete needed her to keep her trap shut, no problem.

Before they got to the door, Pete said, “Codie, this is Detective Adams.” The detective looked over at her and nodded but didn’t say anything. Codie could practically feel an icy chill oozing off him and figured he needed to have that kind of veneer to do his job.

There were lots of people in the huge two-story home and it made Codie feel a little unbalanced at first. She looked around and missed part of what was said, but then they were escorted to the basement. After Detective Adams started following a uniformed police officer, Pete placed his right hand on Codie’s arm while holding out his left hand, indicating that she should follow the detective while he brought up the rear.

The feel of the house was tense. Codie could sense a quiet fear and anxiety, the feeling of waiting for another shoe to drop, like there were eggshells under their feet, but she kept silent and kept walking.

When everyone got off the steps, she looked around the room. To the left was a door; to the right was an open living area with a large throw rug, two sofas, and several chairs and, past where the rug ended was mere concrete. Two washing machines, two dryers, a small clothesline hanging from the ceiling, and some shelving took up the rest of the space. The officer led them through the door on the left. It was a large bedroom with two double beds…and a body on the floor. The detective asked the officer, “Forensics been called yet?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Secure the scene.”

“Already done.”

The detective turned to Pete. “Statements are being taken upstairs and forensics is on the way. I’d like to take a peek at what we’re looking at.” Pete nodded and looked at Codie, and the three of them approached the body on the floor. Codie caught a whiff of—was that urine? She kept her mouth shut, but inside her head, she was thinking, Ewwww. She slowly grew used to it, but she started looking at the body. The men weren’t saying much. The detective was writing in a small notebook (how cliché, Codie thought), but Pete was just observing—and was deep in thought, near as Codie could tell.

She was curious herself. Before they’d gotten closer to the woman, Codie had thought the woman’s head had been covered with a pillow, but she realized now that it was several white shopping bags. She noticed the woman’s gray sweatpants were soaked, and then she knew that was where the pee smell was coming from. Seeing the body started to creep her out. The bags that covered the woman’s head were pulled tightly down and the handles were tied over and around. Jesus. Codie wondered then if the woman was killed by suffocation or if the murderer had just wanted to cover the victim’s face.

There was also an empty bottle of store-brand acetaminophen and an envelope next to the body. Codie would have loved to have opened that envelope, but she knew there was no way she was going to get to. A few minutes later, two more plainclothes cops, a man and a woman, came in the door, and Pete said they were forensics. He said to Codie, “You ready?”

Not really, but she knew she couldn’t make that call, so she nodded. Once they were heading back up the stairs, Codie took a deep breath. She hadn’t realized until that point that the air had been heavy—not just with urine but death. She’d never seen a dead body before and it felt strange. The mood in the place was dark and she was sure that also colored how she was seeing everything.

Upstairs, Pete looked around the living room full of people, almost like an intimate party, and apparently found who he was looking for. He crossed the room and stopped when he got to a balding guy in a suit. “Forensics is here. Do you need me for anything?”

“We still have two people to interview—the victim’s husband and another housemate. They’re both in the kitchen. Save the husband for me.”

Pete nodded. “Got it.” He gave Codie a look and she got the message. She followed behind him as he strode toward the kitchen.

Two men sat at the table drinking coffee. Neither seemed to be particularly broken up about the dead woman downstairs. Codie found that odd, because she would have expected a husband to look sad—or at least a little shell-shocked. Instead, they both acted like they’d just gotten home from a football game or a concert.

“Which one of you is the husband?”

The man on the right—a guy with short brown hair and dimples—stood. He was probably about six-foot-four and thin. The guy didn’t smile, but he wasn’t near tears either. He held out his hand to Pete and said, “Caleb Dinsmoor.”

Pete shook his head and nodded, speaking again in an authoritative voice, almost scary compared to how he usually talked. “Someone will be with you soon, Mr. Dinsmoor.” He turned to the other man. “Can I get your name?”

“Tanner Johnson.”

“I need to speak with you.” Looking from one man to the other, he asked, “Is there a place where we can go?”

“We can’t just stay here?”

Pete said, “My lieutenant will be in shortly to speak with Mr. Dinsmoor, and I think he wanted them to have a little privacy.”

The guy named Tanner stood. “We can maybe go in the prayer room.”

Codie loved that Pete’s facial expression didn’t change, because she was curious as hell, brimming with questions. Maybe they would get answered soon enough. Pete said, “Let’s go,” and they were once again moving, walking through the kitchen deeper into the large house.

UP NEXT:  I is for ???

A to Z Challenge: G is for GOING Somewhere

For the A-to-Z April Blogging Challenge, I’m writing a story, aiming for 1000 words a day (every day except Sundays). Continuing today with part 5 of a story about the character Codie Snow. 

If you’re new to this series of posts, you might want to start here:

A is for ACCEPTING the Challenge
C is for CODIE

So “Going Somewhere” means multiple things…one of which is that we’re out of the scene that dragged on for days–something I might need to chop during revision. But, without further ado, here’s today’s part!

Codie was quiet for a few seconds, because she knew why Pete was irritated with her. She’d disobeyed a direct order from him. Now, granted, he wasn’t her boss or her father or anyone who should matter, and she didn’t really care if he was angry with her or not.

But she didn’t want him to end the ride-along.

“Look, Pete, I know you’re mad at me—”

“I’m not mad at you, Codie. Yeah, I’m a little peeved that it’s like you didn’t hear a word I said, but I’m not mad.”

Huh. His voice said otherwise…but Codie wasn’t going to say another word. Instead, she turned her head to look out the passenger side of the window. She had never spent hours driving around their little town, especially in the dead of night. There’d never been any reason for it. She’d always figured it was a lot like when she was a little kid—maybe one car somewhere on the road in the dark of night and you were lucky if the largest convenience store stayed open till midnight and reopened at six. The bars stayed open latest and even they rolled up shop fairly early. But nowadays the small town never slept, and even though Codie had known that, she hadn’t witnessed it. The truck stop at the edge of town was open 24/7—but that hadn’t been the edge of town when she was a kid. It had been out of town a bit. Now it was part of Dalton and the town fully embraced it. There was also another coffee and pancake restaurant in the middle of town that stayed open twenty-four hours, plus two convenience stores, and a good many businesses stayed open till eleven. Oh, and the giant super center on the west end of town never closed—except for Christmas.

Yeah, lots had changed.

Pete’s voice pulled her out of her introspection. “Thing is, Codie, I still have to protect you. That’s my job. You might have heard that one before? ‘To serve and protect’? That still applies, even to you, even if you’re riding along.” After a second, he said, “And if you’re getting ready to argue again that you were never in any real danger, let me tell you something. The supposed suspect, who was supposed to have fled on foot, was still there, drinking a beer and chilling in front of his TV. It doesn’t even matter that the supposed victim was actually the aggressor. What does matter is what if the guy had been really violent? What if he’d had a gun? If you’d bebopped in the house without a care in the world while I was trying to hold the guy at bay, someone could have gotten hurt. You, me, the victim. There are all kinds of possibilities, none of which are pretty. And if the situation had gotten hairy, I would have had you in the way, making my job even harder than it already is.”

Codie understood where he was coming from, but it was lame. “Why’d I even bother?”

Pete sighed. “Look…we usually have ride-alongs wear a vest and sign a release, so if they get hurt, it’s on them, right?”

“I signed a release.”

“Yeah…”

And then it dawned on Codie. “Why didn’t I get a vest?” Pete turned a corner in the cruiser and kept his eyes on the road. “You were supposed to give me a vest, weren’t you?”

He let out another heavy sigh, but Codie saw no signs of defeat in this man. After what seemed like minutes, he said, “Yeah, we were supposed to give you a vest.” He blinked a couple of times before he added, “But a body like yours shouldn’t be covered up like that.”

Of all the things she’d expected Pete to say, that wasn’t it. She felt herself frown as she tried to wrap her mind around it. Was Pete still attracted to her all these years later? “So I’m being punished because—”

Pete pulled the car over, switching off the lights, and Codie felt her heartbeat begin to race as she lost her train of thought. What the hell? She half expected Pete to pull her close and profess his undying love. But when she looked over, his eyes were focused outside. “You know where we are?”

Codie shrugged. They were in north Dalton. Whoop-de-doop. Looked the same as any residential area in south Dalton, east Dalton, west Dalton. Especially without the sun beating down on any of it. “No clue.”

“You’ve heard of the Dalton Devils?”

It tickled her brain. “Biker gang?”

She could barely hear the sardonic sound of Pete’s voice when he said, “They prefer the term motorcycle club. Like how calling a strip joint a gentleman’s club makes it classier.” A voice on his radio broke a short silence as Pete scrutinized the house. “This is the house of the president of the Devils. Right next door is the junkyard. Did you know the junkyard is owned by the Devils?”

“I don’t know. Maybe?”

“What you might not know is their clubhouse is directly in the backyard of the president’s house. Now…the club pretends they only have legitimate businesses and everything’s on the up-and-up, but we know better. It’s just hard making shit stick to ‘em. They have a good lawyer too.” Codie’s ears perked up at that. Her sometimes-boyfriend Slade wasn’t their lawyer, was he? “So I make sure I drive out here at least once during every shift, sometimes twice, and I just observe.”

“That’s not illegal? Or harassment?”

The lights on the dash allowed Codie to see the slight grin appear on Pete’s face, but he didn’t say a word. After another minute, the radio caught his attention again and he picked up the mike. “Eighteen here. Go ahead.”

“A possible one-eight-seven at 807 Central.”

“Roger that. On my way.” Pete turned on the ignition and they were once more speeding down the highway. What the hell was the hurry?

“What’s a one-eight-seven?” Codie asked.

“Murder.”

See you tomorrow with more!

UP NEXT:  H is for HOMICIDE

A to Z Challenge: G is for GOING SOMEWHERE

For the A-to-Z April Blogging Challenge, I’m writing a story, aiming for 1000 words a day (every day except Sundays). Continuing today with part 5 of a story about the character Codie Snow. 

You might want to read these posts first:

A is for ACCEPTING the Challenge
B is for BLURB
C is for CODIE
D is for DANGER
E is for EAGER
F is for FIGHT

So “Going Somewhere” means multiple things…one of which is that we’re out of the scene that dragged on for days–something I might need to chop during revision. But, without further ado, here’s today’s part!

Codie was quiet for a few seconds, because she knew why Pete was irritated with her. She’d disobeyed a direct order from him. Now, granted, he wasn’t her boss or her father or anyone who should matter, and she didn’t really care if he was angry with her or not.

But she didn’t want him to end the ride-along.

“Look, Pete, I know you’re mad at me—”

“I’m not mad at you, Codie. Yeah, I’m a little peeved that it’s like you didn’t hear a word I said, but I’m not mad.”

Huh. His voice said otherwise…but Codie wasn’t going to say another word. Instead, she turned her head to look out the passenger side of the window. She had never spent hours driving around their little town, especially in the dead of night. There’d never been any reason for it. She’d always figured it was a lot like when she was a little kid—maybe one car somewhere on the road in the dark of night and you were lucky if the largest convenience store stayed open till midnight and reopened at six. The bars stayed open latest and even they rolled up shop fairly early. But nowadays the small town never slept, and even though Codie had known that, she hadn’t witnessed it. The truck stop at the edge of town was open 24/7—but that hadn’t been the edge of town when she was a kid. It had been out of town a bit. Now it was part of Dalton and the town fully embraced it. There was also another coffee and pancake restaurant in the middle of town that stayed open twenty-four hours, plus two convenience stores, and a good many businesses stayed open till eleven. Oh, and the giant super center on the west end of town never closed—except for Christmas.

Yeah, lots had changed.

Pete’s voice pulled her out of her introspection. “Thing is, Codie, I still have to protect you. That’s my job. You might have heard that one before? ‘To serve and protect’? That still applies, even to you, even if you’re riding along.” After a second, he said, “And if you’re getting ready to argue again that you were never in any real danger, let me tell you something. The supposed suspect, who was supposed to have fled on foot, was still there, drinking a beer and chilling in front of his TV. It doesn’t even matter that the supposed victim was actually the aggressor. What does matter is what if the guy had been really violent? What if he’d had a gun? If you’d bebopped in the house without a care in the world while I was trying to hold the guy at bay, someone could have gotten hurt. You, me, the victim. There are all kinds of possibilities, none of which are pretty. And if the situation had gotten hairy, I would have had you in the way, making my job even harder than it already is.”

Codie understood where he was coming from, but it was lame. “Why’d I even bother?”

Pete sighed. “Look…we usually have ride-alongs wear a vest and sign a release, so if they get hurt, it’s on them, right?”

“I signed a release.”

“Yeah…”

And then it dawned on Codie. “Why didn’t I get a vest?” Pete turned a corner in the cruiser and kept his eyes on the road. “You were supposed to give me a vest, weren’t you?”

He let out another heavy sigh, but Codie saw no signs of defeat in this man. After what seemed like minutes, he said, “Yeah, we were supposed to give you a vest.” He blinked a couple of times before he added, “But a body like yours shouldn’t be covered up like that.”

Of all the things she’d expected Pete to say, that wasn’t it. She felt herself frown as she tried to wrap her mind around it. Was Pete still attracted to her all these years later? “So I’m being punished because—”

Pete pulled the car over, switching off the lights, and Codie felt her heartbeat begin to race as she lost her train of thought. What the hell? She half expected Pete to pull her close and profess his undying love. But when she looked over, his eyes were focused outside. “You know where we are?”

Codie shrugged. They were in north Dalton. Whoop-de-doop. Looked the same as any residential area in south Dalton, east Dalton, west Dalton. Especially without the sun beating down on any of it. “No clue.”

“You’ve heard of the Dalton Devils?”

It tickled her brain. “Biker gang?”

She could barely hear the sardonic sound of Pete’s voice when he said, “They prefer the term motorcycle club. Like how calling a strip joint a gentleman’s club makes it classier.” A voice on his radio broke a short silence as Pete scrutinized the house. “This is the house of the president of the Devils. Right next door is the junkyard. Did you know the junkyard is owned by the Devils?”

“I don’t know. Maybe?”

“What you might not know is their clubhouse is directly in the backyard of the president’s house. Now…the club pretends they only have legitimate businesses and everything’s on the up-and-up, but we know better. It’s just hard making shit stick to ‘em. They have a good lawyer too.” Codie’s ears perked up at that. Her sometimes-boyfriend Slade wasn’t their lawyer, was he? “So I make sure I drive out here at least once during every shift, sometimes twice, and I just observe.”

“That’s not illegal? Or harassment?”

The lights on the dash allowed Codie to see the slight grin appear on Pete’s face, but he didn’t say a word. After another minute, the radio caught his attention again and he picked up the mike. “Eighteen here. Go ahead.”

“A possible one-eight-seven at 807 Central.”

“Roger that. On my way.” Pete turned on the ignition and they were once more speeding down the highway. What the hell was the hurry?

“What’s a one-eight-seven?” Codie asked.

“Murder.”

See you tomorrow with more!

A to Z Challenge: F is for FIGHT

For the A-to-Z April Blogging Challenge, I’m writing a story, aiming for 1000 words a day (every day except Sundays). Continuing today with part 4 of a story about the character Codie Snow. 

You might want to read these posts first:

A is for ACCEPTING the Challenge
B is for BLURB
C is for CODIE
D is for DANGER
E is for EAGER

NOTE: This is awesome and funny. Author Rebecca Noon (who is also participating in the challenge) caught that in one of my A-to-Z posts, the DV couple’s child called in the incident, but by the next post, the couple was old (retirement age). That just shows how my crazy writing process works, and—I told her in a comment—that’s why I never publish a first draft. My continuity is often all over the place, and that’s one of the things I look for when going back through a draft. In this instance, I can tell you exactly what I did and why. When I began describing the couple, I figured they were in their thirties or forties, nothing unusual, but yesterday I started thinking it might be better—perhaps more unexpected, maybe funnier or maybe even darker—if the couple was a lot older. I thought, if nothing else, I’d have something different to work with. I didn’t go back to see what I’d already written before, so I didn’t remember that I’d already given the couple an age, only to change it a few paragraphs later. I’ll keep writing with them older now, though, since I’ve kind of committed to that, but when I go back and revise, I’ll need to decide which I prefer. If the couple is going to be older, I’ll just need to change the setup. If they’re younger, I may have more rewriting to do. Either way, it’s fine, but it’s definitely one of those things that gets fixed during revision.

Making errors like that one speaks to the “pantsing” process. If I had a tight little outline, it would be harder to make mistakes like that, but I prefer to write the way I do, because I let the story flow more. It feels better to me that way and more natural.

Something different I’m doing right now as well is “letting readers in” long before I normally do. I usually (to use Stephen King’s metaphor) “keep the door closed” until the first (or second or third) draft is done. Why? Because I need what’s in my head to remain uninfluenced by others until it’s all down. This is different, though. This is fun and I’m also sharing as I go! I’m also writing a lot more slowly because I’m “talking about it” while I write…rather than just writing. And I guess I’d better get back to the story at some point!

Even though Breske apologized for inadvertently trying to arrest Codie, she didn’t act sorry. In fact, the waves of indignant anger washed over Codie like nausea. But Codie decided to play it cool, grateful that nothing more had happened. Pete asked Breske to get the woman’s side of the story while he talked with the man. Then he looked at Codie. “You stay there and don’t move.”

Codie felt her eyes grow wide and she nodded. She couldn’t tell if he was angry at her or not, and she tried not to feel a bit of irritation herself. When she’d first talked to Pete about going on a ride-along, she’d made it quite clear that she’d wanted to see the action. Sitting in a cop car, staring at a house and listening to a lot of nonsensical chatter on the radio with nothing to do and no idea of how long she’d be doing said nothing sounded less fun than lying in a dentist chair while some tech scraped on her teeth.

And she was pretty sure other people would have gotten to follow him inside—whether that would have been male citizens or just people not Codie, she wasn’t sure, but she suspected he was trying to protect her.

Pete asked the man a couple of questions, but it was a matter of minutes before the woman’s voice started rising again. Codie figured Breske’s prickly-pear attitude didn’t help the situation much, but the woman was riled up already—Breske just seemed to make it worse. “I told him I’m tired of him sittin’ in that damned La-Z-Boy day in and day out, watchin’ TV we can’t afford and drinkin’ beer we can’t afford. He’s—”

“Dammit, woman,” the man barked back. “I earned them comforts!”

Pete was on the one side, asking the man to give him his attention, while Breske was doing the same with the woman, but it was no use. This was an argument the two seemed destined to play out. The woman continued screeching, but then Pete moved over to block her some and he once more got the older man’s attention. “I just need to know if either of you is in danger?”

“Mean am I gonna kill her?” Pete’s face didn’t change, and Codie was impressed, because she could feel the incredulity changing her features—either that, or she was going to start laughing at any moment, because the situation was becoming comical. But then the man said, “No. We fight all the time, but she’s just extra feisty tonight.”

Feisty. Yeah.

Pete asked, “Describe what you mean by fight.”

“Bicker. Having words, you know.”

Pete nodded. “No physical altercations?”

The man grinned. “Eh. She’s not worth the effort.”

Codie could barely register the action as it happened, but the woman suddenly pushed herself past both Breske and Pete could stop her. The woman started slapping the man on both sides of his face repeatedly, as though she were a boxer training with a speed bag. Codie had no idea what had set her off this time, if anything, but she wasn’t surprised when Breske cuffed her and started walking her out the door. Codie figured the woman kept yelling all the way toward Breske’s cruiser, but her voice faded after a bit.

She and Pete stayed with the man a bit longer and Pete took a full statement, telling the man his wife would probably be out the following day but that she’d probably have a restraining order against her. “That means the two of you shouldn’t be around each other.”

“Her bark’s always worse than her bite.”

Pete tried doing some low-grade counseling with the guy, but Codie could tell her friend felt out of his league and uncomfortable as hell doing so. Once they were back in the car, he told Codie that they sometimes arrested both parties in domestic violence situations, but here it was clear who the aggressor was. He typed out a quick report on a small laptop and then they drove off. He arched an eyebrow before glancing sideways at Codie. “You do know who’s the cop here, don’t you?”

Be sure to tune in tomorrow for the next part! Remember, this is completely unrevised and (mostly) unedited and will likely change quite a bit before publication…but I thought you might enjoy a glimpse into my writing process.

A to Z Challenge: E is for EAGER

For the A-to-Z April Blogging Challenge, I’m writing a story, aiming for 1000 words a day (every day except Sundays).  This is part 3 in the beginnings of a story about the character Codie Snow.  I hope you enjoy it, and please be sure to tune in tomorrow for the next part!  Remember, this is completely unrevised and (mostly) unedited and will likely change quite a bit before publication…but I thought you might enjoy a glimpse into my writing process.

You might want to read these posts first:

A is for ACCEPTING the Challenge
B is for BLURB
C is for CODIE
D is for DANGER

NOTE: Okay, as usual, I’m doing something to myself I sometimes do when I’ve started warming up to the story. I’m starting to question all my decisions. Okay, not all. But I’m wondering if the guy I imagined Codie ending up with is the right guy. I’m wondering if I have enough story for a full-sized novel; I wonder if I’ll lose reader interest, etc., etc., etc.

But I can’t let doubts or questions slow me down. I know if I press through that the story will reveal itself, so I need to jump in with both feet. Here goes!

Codie could hear Pete’s voice carry through the screen door out into the yard where she stood, her stride having changed to a slow crawl as her ears assessed the situation. She could see a little inside but not much, because the people weren’t standing right in front of the door. “Ma’am,” he said, “I’m going to need you to back away some.” Another couple of seconds and Pete added, his voice firmer, “A few feet.” Codie could imagine the look on his face as he tried to communicate to the woman that he meant business. “Now, I need you to tell me what happened.”

Codie could hear a man’s voice then, but it wasn’t loud enough for her to make out any actual words. The woman then started screeching again. “That’s bullshit, Vern. Bullshit! And you know it.”

“Ma’am, I’m not going to ask you again. I need you to keep some distance between you and your husband while he tells his side of the story.” It was relatively quiet for a few seconds, save the TV droning in the background, and Codie inched closer to the house before Pete said, “Sir?”

“Like I said, I just sat down with a beer when the old lady started throwin’ shit at me.”

“I wasn’t just throwin’ shit at you, Vern! It was the goddamned cable bill that we can’t afford!”

Over her voice, Codie could hear Pete telling her once again to back off, but soon those sounds were drowned out by the short blast of the siren from another cop car. Codie turned around and saw the red and blue lights whirring on top of the car, but the driver hadn’t had the siren on long and didn’t leave it on. It almost sounded like the cop had turned it on for just a second so the people inside the house knew he was there.

Oh. Not he. She. The cop was a woman. It wasn’t hard to tell once she was out of the cop car, because the uniform hugged her like a glove, and there was no mistaking her feminine figure. The look on her face, however, was determination and attitude. Codie knew she wouldn’t want to mess with this cop.

Unfortunately, she was on the cop’s radar and before she could even turn back to the action to hear what was going on inside, the cop said, “Hands up!” Codie couldn’t see the cop’s face, even though the red and blue behind her highlighted her body, but there wasn’t enough light from the porch and the front of the house to illuminate her face, so Codie couldn’t get a read on her.

“I’m not—”

But the cop wasn’t listening and she rushed at Codie before she could finish her sentence. She was shoved up against the side of the house next to the screen door, her face mashed into the siding and her arms twisted behind her back, cold metal digging into her wrists. She tried muttering once more that she was with Pete and not a criminal, but she knew it wouldn’t be worth the effort. The cop would find out soon enough.

It wasn’t until the cop led her by the wrists behind her back into the house that it got all straightened out. “Breske! She’s on a ride-along. Uncuff her!” In the meantime, he was cuffing the woman who’d been yelling. The man who’d been talking just stood to the side, and Codie tried not to laugh. The guy had to be pushing seventy—same with the woman—and here they were, yelling at each other like passionate youth.

Well, not so much. They were probably just set in their ways.

By the time the cuffs were off Codie’s wrists, she rubbed them because they already hurt. She could see the red marks they’d dug into her flesh. The tight-faced cop said, “My apologies, ma’am.”

Pete looked half-amused, half-pissed when he said, “Breske’s just an eager beaver. You’ll have to forgive her.”

Codie tried not to give away that she was upset, but she didn’t know that her face could quite hide how she felt at the moment. She was glad when the action drew their attention away from her and she tried to lose that strange feeling of embarrassment and anger.

NOTE:  I’m having to stop today simply because of time.  It is often my biggest enemy when it comes to writing!  But no fear–there WILL be more tomorrow.  Even when I don’t hit my word goal, I will (and do) write.  Be sure to tune in tomorrow.  And I might as well tell you now–like a lot of things that happen in my stories, Breske wasn’t a planned character.  She just made herself known and I spent the better portion of my writing time this morning trying to figure out her name! 

A to Z Challenge: D is for DANGER

For the A-to-Z April Blogging Challenge, I am writing a story, aiming for at least 1000 words a day (Sundays off!).  This is part 2 in the beginnings of a story about Codie Snow.  I hope you enjoy, and please be sure to tune in tomorrow for the next part!  Remember, this is completely unrevised and (mostly) unedited and will likely change quite a bit before publication…but I thought you might enjoy a glimpse into my writing process.

You might want to read these posts first:

A is for ACCEPTING the Challenge
B is for BLURB
C is for CODIE

NOTE: After finishing up my writing yesterday, I already know how I want to revise the beginnings of the story. I did what I have a tendency to do (and I think a lot of authors do)—I feel the need to pack all the backstory in the beginning instead of letting the action happen and filling in details later. So, when I revise, I’ll need to take a lot of that stuff out…and let it trickle out after the action that will be happening next. Action first; backstory later. A then B, right?

A to Z Challenge: C is for CODIE

For the A-to-Z April Blogging Challenge, I am writing a story, aiming for at least 1000 words a day (Sundays off!).  This is part 1 in the beginnings of a story about one Codie Snow.  I hope you enjoy, and please be sure to tune in tomorrow for the next part!  Remember, this is completely unrevised and (mostly) unedited and will likely change quite a bit before publication…but I thought you might enjoy a glimpse into my writing process.

Codie Snow chomped on the ragged thumbnail that had been bothering her the better part of an hour. She was on a ride-along with five-year veteran cop Pete Olson, the former star quarterback from her hometown high school.

A guy she’d dated in high school.

That hadn’t stopped him from pursuing her once in a while since—when he was without female companionship—but Codie’s on-again, off-again boyfriend put the stop to a good many advances from Pete. Right now, she and Slade Stewart, said boyfriend, were once more off-again, and she was considering Pete.

She could see him approaching the glass door from inside Dalton’s one and only McDonald’s, with a paperboard tray in hand, two cups of nuclear hot coffee coming right up. He also had a brown paper bag. He hadn’t mentioned food.

Codie would have spent the last five minutes on her phone, either checking out her Instagram or Facebook or even just taking a selfie in the squad car, but Pete had told her no phones. They weren’t allowed on ride-alongs.

“Why?” Codie had asked, even while she’d been handing it over to the desk lady.

“Because, Codie,” he said in a firm voice, but his dimples belied the seriousness of it all, “if something serious happens, something you shouldn’t be privy to, I can’t have you spreading it all over the internet before we’ve had a chance to do our jobs.”

“But you have dashcams, don’t you?”

He’d raised his eyebrows in mock irritation. “Yeah, our dashcams. Look, do you wanna go on the ride-along or not?”

She’d reluctantly handed over her phone, but Pete had been right. She’d been wanting to do this for a while. Now that she was a quarter of a century old, it was time to get serious about her life. No more messing around. No more waiting for something cool to happen to her. She needed to take her fate into her own hands and make it happen.

Codie had never thought she had a thing for men in uniforms—after all, her biggest crushes were rock stars: guitarists, frontmen, drummers, bassists. It really didn’t matter. If they played hard rock, they were tucked away in the fantasy part of her brain. She’d actually talked Slade into going to a Godsmack concert once—and he’d almost enjoyed himself.

No, that wasn’t true. He’d enjoyed the blowjob in his Maserati before heading to the Marriott that night.

But lately Slade was being his usual prick self, and Codie was enjoying looking at the overly macho guy in the blue uniform. Sure, Slade looked amazing, whether he was in one of his expensive courtroom suits or in his workout clothes, but she was mad at him right now. That’s where Pete came in.

And she suspected his body looked very much like Slade’s underneath the blue. She hadn’t seen Pete with his clothes off since she’d been a junior in high school and they’d dated. She’d been in the color guard—a step below cheerleaders and the dance squad on the jock dating totem pole, but still quite acceptable. She was a year younger than Pete, also quite acceptable and even smiled upon. It was a weird school, probably because there was only one high school in all of Dalton (not counting the online school for kids who needed an alternative), and they were locked in on all sides by agriculture, a small Colorado town on the prairie, one hour away from both Pueblo and Colorado Springs. Kids either went into the family business or stuck around because it was all they knew—but even more kids bailed the second they graduated high school. Well, that wasn’t completely true. Thanks to the community college housed there and the correctional facility in a town farther east, a good many kids stayed and kept the town thriving.

Codie had struggled with the thought of leaving more than once, though, and she had only three reasons for staying. The first was her family. She’d initially stayed behind to help her grandma until the woman’s death, and she’d remained because of her mom and dad. She’d been living with them and stayed with them while attending classes at the community college. She’d thought she was in love with Slade and moved in with him, only to move out again the first time he’d pissed her off. Now she lived with her best friend Matthew and dated Slade when they were on good terms.

And they were the second and third reasons why she stayed in that damned podunk town—Slade (sometimes) and Matthew (always). If Matthew decided to move to Colorado Springs tomorrow (something they considered off and on), she’d go with him in a second.

“Can you grab that?” Pete asked, handing her the tray with the two coffees.

“Oh, yeah, sure,” she said, leaning over to take it out of his hand.

He grinned that disarming smile of his, emphasizing his drop-dead gorgeous dimples. She didn’t know if it was okay for cops to sport stubble, but Pete looked good when he did. He had light brown hair with green eyes to match—and those eyes had a twinkle in them that seemed to say, “I know all the bad things you’ve done. Question is if I approve of them or not.” Seeing him in that uniform that hid all the ripples and valleys his rock hard muscles created in his flesh made her wonder if he’d be worth another go.

She’d lost her virginity to him all those years ago and didn’t remember him being a particularly memorable lover.

But she thought she might want to find out.

She wondered if he’d mind using his handcuffs on her.

“One of them’s for you,” he said, closing the door.

“Thanks.”

“Caffeine’s okay, right?”

Codie stifled a giggle. “Um, yeah. It should be illegal to serve coffee without it.”

“Couldn’t agree with you more.” He pulled open the bag. “You still like cherry pie?”

Oh…with its evilly decadent sweet crust and wicked flavoring. All that shit was bad for her. Then again, Pete probably was too. “Yeah. Why not?”

“Why not? A girl after my own heart.” He handed her a hot rectangular box and asked, “Mind putting two packets of sugar and a couple of those creamers in my coffee?”

“Sure.” She doctored his java while he turned on the car and began backing out. His radio that seemed to have a constant white noise pouring out of it and voices that seemed to want to be anywhere but where they were started blabbering again. Codie wondered how he could identify which calls were for him and which he could ignore, but she had to admit that, deep down, she was impressed.

She’d gone on the ride-along to see if maybe being in law enforcement would be something she’d be interested in, because the medical field certainly was not, but so far, tonight had been dullsville. Pete had pulled over two speeders and had broken up an “altercation” between two high school kids. After that, he’d gone to a convenience store to take a report about a shoplifter—and the store’s camera hadn’t been working. The remainder of the time they’d spent on patrol, driving around town struggling to make small talk. She had no idea as she stirred Pete’s coffee cup before handing it over to him that all that was about to change, though—in a huge way.

More tomorrow!  You might also be interested in reading these posts that explain what these shenanigans are all about:

A is for Accepting the Challenge

B is for Blurb