I’ve been a slug about reporting on the progress of my Work In Progress. I’m not stalled, but I haven’t made a giant leap in the last two months either. Life gets in the way. I am happy to report FDW is now fully capable with two hands. His only therapy is at home and he’s as good as new. Other stuff has gotten me sidetracked, but I won’t bore you.
Two months ago, when I last updated, I’d just started Chapter Twenty-One. Today, I’ll start Twenty-Three. Now, that sounds horrendous, but I’ve done a fair number of re-writes and edits in addition. Still…I’m going to have some marathon writing to do to get to “the end” by the close of August, which is my self-imposed deadline.
To refresh your memory, the setting for this new WIP is based on a real-life mining town turned ghost town turned tourist town. I've named the town Joshua. The working title is Magpie MacKenzie, a Joshua, Arizona Novel. It’s the first of a trilogy about the MacKenzie family. There is suspense, mystery, old murders, romance...plenty to keep you turning the pages.
Today, I’ll share a partial scene with you from Chapter One.
“I guess that means we’ll see you later, Magpie.” Zack followed his friends, but glanced over his shoulder with an unreadable expression before he disappeared out the door and into the chilly wind.
Slightly lightheaded, Magpie braced herself on the counter. “Honestly, Phaedra, I could—”
“Now, Mags, you haven’t been this tongue tied over a guy in years.” She scooped her purse from behind the counter where she’d set it when she came in. “I need to get going, and you need to enjoy the quivers that guy is obviously giving you. He’s probably only thirty or close to it, but what the hell, he’s hot. Every man should fill his jeans like that, not to mention his shoulders.” She stopped by the door. “You two were looking at each other like—”
“Like we know each other?”
“Know each other? I agree he bore a resemblance to Mark, but that’s all.”
“Is it? Sacrebleu, Phaedra. When I stared into that face, I saw Mark…a soul…from twenty-eight years ago.” The soul of someone she’d loved.
Who might have been a murderer…or murdered by my father.