Peter Laurent's Blog - Posts Tagged "draft"
Book 2 - Prologue
Hello sexy people,
I thought I'd share some of my latest writing for some light weekend reading! This is from a scene around three quarters of the way through Book 2, and I am considering using this as an action packed prologue at the very start of the book.
My one major regret with The Covert Academy was to call the first chapter a prologue when it really wasn't.
What follows below, however, is very much a prologue. Which means you won't miss anything if you skip it, but sets the tone of the book nicely.
Please keep in mind this is only (updated to 2nd) draft material! That means everything is subject to change between now and publication.
Please be kind :)
So without further ado:
The Covert Academy 2
Prologue
‘Oh, I don’t think Sarah Jensen will be leaving us any time soon,’ a silky voice, emanating from behind Ichiro, interrupted.
Sarah tensed, reached for her sword, but it wasn’t there. Liam! He’d lifted her sword. Deal with him later. Movement from behind the sphere. Someone walking toward her. A dark shape. That voice, that calm, neutral accent, unforgettable after all these years…
‘Now we don’t need any undo fuss,’ said the voice. ‘In fact, Sarah, I wanted to thank you personally. You’ve delivered the last of the resistance right into my lap.’
‘Not the last,’ Sarah said. ‘Show yourself!’
Rhys walked into the light of the pulsing purple sphere and stood a few short steps from Sarah, hands clasped behind his back. The light-bloom from the sphere cast long shadows over his face, lending him a demonic aura.
‘Fletcher,’ Sarah growled. Her eyes darted around the room for a weapon. It was too dark even for her iPC. Something was interfering, or else there really was nothing to see… for all she knew the universe ended where he stood. ‘Rhys Fletcher. You knew I’d come for you one day,’ Sarah said, balling her hand into a tight fist. ‘I would, or the Academy would.’
‘How poetic,’ Rhys mocked. ‘Don’t be absurd. You’re not important, none of you are. There is no prophecy to be fulfilled. No secret bloodlines. It’s all just a matter of control. Control and efficiency... many hands make light work,’ Rhys chuckled at his bad joke then buttoned up into a grim smirk once more. ‘It’s for your own good, you can count on that. Now hand over the bio-ID.’
‘Count on this.’ Sarah charged him, aiming to get in close, fast. Rhys let her come. She ducked his oncoming elbow then dodged his outthrust leg. She twisted, using her shoulder stump as a shield to try and open a gap and plant her one closed fist on that smug face of his. Sarah rained down blow after blow in a flurry of rapid one-hand attacks. Rhys Fletcher blocked her every move with seemingly careless precision. He was a machine.
No one is this good. Sarah gasped for air, utterly spent, and Rhys pushed her backward into the purple sphere. It flicked off just long enough to admit her inside the bubble.
‘Impressive, for a cripple,’ Rhys said. ‘Well if you won’t surrender the bio-ID then you can’t do any harm in there,’ he added patiently, and turned to go, fading into the blackness of the room. ‘I have all the time in the world. You will break soon enough. Let’s see how you handle the other one,’ he said, then he was gone.
Sarah looked at Ichiro. ‘What did he mean, the other one?’
‘You,’ Ichiro mumbled through broken teeth. He pointed toward the transfer panel where Sarah had come aboard. ‘The other you.’
Sarah gasped as her twin walked into the room. But it couldn’t be; Fletcher had seen to that long ago. Sarah could never forget, she’d seen it with her own eyes, had it etched onto her retinas forever.
The woman wore a jumpsuit so new it could have come straight off the Academy factory line. Her skin was perfectly unblemished, unnaturally so, as if she’d applied too much makeup. But her eyes were bleeding - two red tears streaked down her cheeks.
My cheeks.
The woman scanned the room, at a loss for direction until some unseen order had been processed. Her gaze drifted onto Sarah and locked in place. Sarah stared back into her cold, dead eyes.
My eyes.
The woman smiled, but her eyes remained vacant. When she spoke it was in Sarah’s voice, but with Rhys’ accent. The same bland accent which had haunted Sarah’s dreams.
‘Hello,’ she said, cracking the knuckles on her hands.
My hands. Two hands.
‘Shall we begin?’
***
I thought I'd share some of my latest writing for some light weekend reading! This is from a scene around three quarters of the way through Book 2, and I am considering using this as an action packed prologue at the very start of the book.
My one major regret with The Covert Academy was to call the first chapter a prologue when it really wasn't.
What follows below, however, is very much a prologue. Which means you won't miss anything if you skip it, but sets the tone of the book nicely.
Please keep in mind this is only (updated to 2nd) draft material! That means everything is subject to change between now and publication.
Please be kind :)
So without further ado:
The Covert Academy 2
Prologue
‘Oh, I don’t think Sarah Jensen will be leaving us any time soon,’ a silky voice, emanating from behind Ichiro, interrupted.
Sarah tensed, reached for her sword, but it wasn’t there. Liam! He’d lifted her sword. Deal with him later. Movement from behind the sphere. Someone walking toward her. A dark shape. That voice, that calm, neutral accent, unforgettable after all these years…
‘Now we don’t need any undo fuss,’ said the voice. ‘In fact, Sarah, I wanted to thank you personally. You’ve delivered the last of the resistance right into my lap.’
‘Not the last,’ Sarah said. ‘Show yourself!’
Rhys walked into the light of the pulsing purple sphere and stood a few short steps from Sarah, hands clasped behind his back. The light-bloom from the sphere cast long shadows over his face, lending him a demonic aura.
‘Fletcher,’ Sarah growled. Her eyes darted around the room for a weapon. It was too dark even for her iPC. Something was interfering, or else there really was nothing to see… for all she knew the universe ended where he stood. ‘Rhys Fletcher. You knew I’d come for you one day,’ Sarah said, balling her hand into a tight fist. ‘I would, or the Academy would.’
‘How poetic,’ Rhys mocked. ‘Don’t be absurd. You’re not important, none of you are. There is no prophecy to be fulfilled. No secret bloodlines. It’s all just a matter of control. Control and efficiency... many hands make light work,’ Rhys chuckled at his bad joke then buttoned up into a grim smirk once more. ‘It’s for your own good, you can count on that. Now hand over the bio-ID.’
‘Count on this.’ Sarah charged him, aiming to get in close, fast. Rhys let her come. She ducked his oncoming elbow then dodged his outthrust leg. She twisted, using her shoulder stump as a shield to try and open a gap and plant her one closed fist on that smug face of his. Sarah rained down blow after blow in a flurry of rapid one-hand attacks. Rhys Fletcher blocked her every move with seemingly careless precision. He was a machine.
No one is this good. Sarah gasped for air, utterly spent, and Rhys pushed her backward into the purple sphere. It flicked off just long enough to admit her inside the bubble.
‘Impressive, for a cripple,’ Rhys said. ‘Well if you won’t surrender the bio-ID then you can’t do any harm in there,’ he added patiently, and turned to go, fading into the blackness of the room. ‘I have all the time in the world. You will break soon enough. Let’s see how you handle the other one,’ he said, then he was gone.
Sarah looked at Ichiro. ‘What did he mean, the other one?’
‘You,’ Ichiro mumbled through broken teeth. He pointed toward the transfer panel where Sarah had come aboard. ‘The other you.’
Sarah gasped as her twin walked into the room. But it couldn’t be; Fletcher had seen to that long ago. Sarah could never forget, she’d seen it with her own eyes, had it etched onto her retinas forever.
The woman wore a jumpsuit so new it could have come straight off the Academy factory line. Her skin was perfectly unblemished, unnaturally so, as if she’d applied too much makeup. But her eyes were bleeding - two red tears streaked down her cheeks.
My cheeks.
The woman scanned the room, at a loss for direction until some unseen order had been processed. Her gaze drifted onto Sarah and locked in place. Sarah stared back into her cold, dead eyes.
My eyes.
The woman smiled, but her eyes remained vacant. When she spoke it was in Sarah’s voice, but with Rhys’ accent. The same bland accent which had haunted Sarah’s dreams.
‘Hello,’ she said, cracking the knuckles on her hands.
My hands. Two hands.
‘Shall we begin?’
***
