Thursday, August 25, 2011

Just a Sample...

An excerpt from the novel in progress (not the beginning, not the end, just some random portion in the middle to tease and annoy you and make you want to read more...):


Jenna made sandwiches for the beach. It began well, better than she’d expected considering the last thing she wanted to do on October 27th was go to the beach, but the weather was surprisingly warm, and Jack was downright jovial instead of exhibiting his traditional perverse behavior. Although she was used to working around his idiosyncrasies, it annoyed her that she had to make the sandwiches his way. White bread only, no condiments, crusts cut off, American cheese and honey ham, sliced diagonally in quarters, in zip bags as opposed to the less-expensive fold-over plastic bags. He wouldn’t even watch if she were eating hers cut the “wrong” way, so she just made her sandwiches exactly the same as his, but added catsup. That was a crap shoot. Sometimes her affinity for catsup disgusted him, and sometimes he didn’t even mention it. But she had to have something to make the sandwich go down easier, and the only other alternative in her little apartment fridge was a jar of mayonnaise that her friend Casey had left there a month ago, and mayonnaise disgusted Jenna more than catsup disgusted Jack, so that was out of the question. Even through her sandwich annoyance, Jenna was in an upbeat mood. Whatever Jack had planned for the beach today would be an adventure, since he rarely wanted to leave his house or her apartment when they were together.

He pulled up precisely at 9:45, precisely when he said he would be there. Punctuality was very important to Jack. Though he’d never been diagnosed with Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, he most certainly embodied all of the symptoms. Thinking of him that way helped Jenna to work around all of his idiosyncrasies because if she didn’t think of him as OCD, she’d simply think of him as an ass.

Sometimes she did that anyhow.

Jack honked, growing impatient. Jenna knew that was because she was walking out the door at 9:48 instead of standing in front of the apartment at 9:45. She also knew that there was no way he would refrain from commenting on it, and no way that she’d refrain from acting like it was no big deal when she opened the door of his little blue ’91 Corolla.

“You’re late,” Jack stated.

“Yeah, because we’re on an exact schedule for this mission.” She rolled her eyes, tossed the bag of sandwiches in the backseat, and lowered herself into the car. “Thanks for getting the door,” Jenna barked sarcastically.

“Your sense of independence would’ve been bruised had I gotten out to do so.” Jack backed out of the parking space and slowly pulled forward. “Do you have your keys?”

“Of course I have my keys. Why would you even ask that?”

“Because last time we left your apartment in my car instead of yours, you forgot your keys and it was a major pain. I’m just covering all our bases. Are you certain you have your keys?”

“I have my keys,” she assured him through gritted teeth.


“In my purse,” Jenna seethed.


“IN THE BACK WITH THE SANDW…” she began. Jack stopped the car, reversed, backed into the parking space, and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel while Jenna got out. After a few minutes, she returned, cheeks flushed, purse and keys in hand.


I <3 Writing. That is all.


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