Bound and Determined Sneak Peek #3!
On August 15th, I shared that I was 71,000 words through with Bound and Determined and gave a peek into the more spiritual side of the story thus far.
Well, it's been quite some time since that last sneak peek, and I know y'all have been looking forward to another one, and this time, I have something ever more fun to share!
Have you ever wondered what transpired when Keaton and Rina first met? I know I have, so when I began Bound and Determined, I started with a prologue, and it in was two different scenes. One of those was Keaton's first moments upon the Rina.
Of course, not everything makes the cut, and since my prologue for Prisoner at Heart wasn't entirely satisfactory, I knew that I had to take extra special care with BAD's prologue.
So I cut out that scene.
I'm not actually upset about that, because it truly is so much better without it, but it was a hilarious--and momentous--scene that I knew I had to share.
So, without further ado, read the deleted prologue scene of Bound and Determined! (Note: the following is in Keaton's POV.)
Great Yarmouth, England
March 1675
“C’mon, Reagan. We ‘aven’t got all day,” another filthy fellow squawked from his perch, arms flapping like a seagull. He leaned over the boat’s railing, appearing to be nothing more than a small, meaningless speck from this distance. A small, meaningless speck floating upon the large, bottomless ocean. Exactly where I would be in a matter of minutes if I let my uncle and the tall man before me drag me upon this large, intimidating boat.
If it were up to me—and it never was, unfortunately—I would be at home. Mum would be out in the garden, bent over her flowers. Father would be in his shop, repairing a customer’s shoe. Christabel would be running through the meadow with her friends.
But no. I was miles away from Cambridge, in the care of my one remaining relative—who just so happened to be a thieving, murderous pirate who spoke very little English—and about to be inducted into a crew of said pirates.
If it were up to me, I’d be dead too.
The boat rocked in the waves, threatening to pull loose from her anchor and drift to shore. If only it would. It could smash into the rocks and become nothing more than splinters of wood washed away by the tide.
But then I would be without shelter and transportation. Which would leave me with nothing but several shirts, a pair of breeches, and an uncle who smelled worse than a skunk. Perhaps I should be more aware of what I wished for.
Want to read more? Read the rest of this deleted scene on my blog, Gabbing with Grace!
Well, it's been quite some time since that last sneak peek, and I know y'all have been looking forward to another one, and this time, I have something ever more fun to share!
Have you ever wondered what transpired when Keaton and Rina first met? I know I have, so when I began Bound and Determined, I started with a prologue, and it in was two different scenes. One of those was Keaton's first moments upon the Rina.
Of course, not everything makes the cut, and since my prologue for Prisoner at Heart wasn't entirely satisfactory, I knew that I had to take extra special care with BAD's prologue.
So I cut out that scene.
I'm not actually upset about that, because it truly is so much better without it, but it was a hilarious--and momentous--scene that I knew I had to share.
So, without further ado, read the deleted prologue scene of Bound and Determined! (Note: the following is in Keaton's POV.)
Great Yarmouth, England
March 1675
“C’mon, Reagan. We ‘aven’t got all day,” another filthy fellow squawked from his perch, arms flapping like a seagull. He leaned over the boat’s railing, appearing to be nothing more than a small, meaningless speck from this distance. A small, meaningless speck floating upon the large, bottomless ocean. Exactly where I would be in a matter of minutes if I let my uncle and the tall man before me drag me upon this large, intimidating boat.
If it were up to me—and it never was, unfortunately—I would be at home. Mum would be out in the garden, bent over her flowers. Father would be in his shop, repairing a customer’s shoe. Christabel would be running through the meadow with her friends.
But no. I was miles away from Cambridge, in the care of my one remaining relative—who just so happened to be a thieving, murderous pirate who spoke very little English—and about to be inducted into a crew of said pirates.
If it were up to me, I’d be dead too.
The boat rocked in the waves, threatening to pull loose from her anchor and drift to shore. If only it would. It could smash into the rocks and become nothing more than splinters of wood washed away by the tide.
But then I would be without shelter and transportation. Which would leave me with nothing but several shirts, a pair of breeches, and an uncle who smelled worse than a skunk. Perhaps I should be more aware of what I wished for.
Want to read more? Read the rest of this deleted scene on my blog, Gabbing with Grace!
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