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WIPpet Wednesday- Fun with Fighting on the Fifteenth (and a quick ROW80 Update)

Welcome again to WIPpet Wednesday, where we share a portion of a work in progress that relates in some way to the day’s date.

Today is 5/15/13. What shall we do?

I’ve decided not to share any gory dead bodies with you this week, even though it’s part of what I’ve been working on. You can return to your regularly scheduled breakfasts/lunches/whatever (still sorry about that…). Here’s 15 paragraphs (because dialogue) from a scene that takes place at the top of Cabot Tower. I wish I could share the end of this scene, but rules are rules, b’ys. Shivva and Daniel are in the middle of a training session, trying to open her up to the non-physical senses she (as a vampire) should be able to use. “The teenagers” are a pair of kids in the car in the parking lot, and have thus far been almost ignored by the blood-suckers on top of the tower. Shivva has already lost one fight (and been thrown off of the tower in the process). Good times.

Cabot Tower (photo via Wikipedia)

“Let’s try it. Sneak up on me.”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, that works. Close your eyes. I may or may not be back.”

He drops off of the edge of the tower like it was three feet to the ground instead of fifty. His shoes hit the ground with a loud thwack, but his movements that follow are silent. I close my eyes and breathe in the salt-fresh air of this place that’s become my home. Waves mumble over the rocks far below me. My body is silent, not even a heartbeat to distract my ears.

A minute later a sharp rapping noise splits the air, and Daniel yells, “Hey! Leave room for the holy spirit, kids!” I snort, imagining the teenagers in the car jumping apart. That, or giving him the finger. So that places him a short walk down a slight slope, downwind. I won’t smell him as he approaches. I won’t hear him, either; Daniel moves like a cat when he wants to.

I focus inward, feeling for him from a part of myself that’s beyond human senses. It’s not his physical presence I need to be aware of, but that part of him that wants to harm me. Specific markers like that are always easiest, especially when dealing with strangers. Malicious intent approaches, clear and deadly. Behind me, moving to the side. When he strikes out, I’m ready. I roll away, up on my feet just before I hit the low wall. He doesn’t pursue.

“Good. Too easy, but good.”

That’s the only kind of praise Daniel gives, so I’m satisfied with it. He’s right, anyway. It was too easy. “You know, it would be much more challenging with a trainer who didn’t actually want to maim and destroy me.”

He smirks. If there were days when he went easy on me, I certainly don’t remember them. “Stop being a wuss, Shiv. That which doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, and all of that.”

“Well, I’m dead. Does that make me invincible, or the weakest thing ever?”

“Moot point. Try again. I’m going to make it harder.”

“That’s what she said.” I position myself in the center of the roof and close my eyes, and he disappears. Really. I lose all sense of him as soon as he’s gone. It’s disconcerting, but I square my shoulders and wait. He’ll be back. Even if he changes his plan of attack, I’ll feel him coming. Punching, kicking, pulling my hair, tossing me off of the roof again…

Cold lips press onto mine, and strong arms pull my shocked body close. Hands tangle in my hair. Cold hands. My mind explodes in confusion. How? I should pull away, but my body betrays me, acting on its own just as it did when I blocked his attack earlier. My mouth opens under his, and the most incredible feeling washes over me as I rise up onto my toes to push myself farther into him. The world around me stops moving. And then he’s gone, pulling back, leaving me to stumble forward into the space where he stood a moment ago.

He’s got that cocky smile on his face. “Your methods are flawed, dear student. You assume too much.”

“That’s not fair!” It’s all I can do to not stomp my foot in a childish fit of confusion and anger. “Nobody who actually wants to hurt me is going to sneak up to kiss me!”

“No?” I barely dodge the kick that would have sent me over the edge again. “Well, there’s your lesson for tonight.”

Want to join in WIPpet Wednesday? Here’s the link. Have a gander at the other lovely works posted, share the comment love, and add your own. Yes, it is that easy. After all…

Thank you to K.L. Schwengel, our fan-frigging-tastic host, for making that!

* * *

ROW80 Update:

Eh. 1,380 words on Sunday, none on Monday (though I did manage to make a stuffed cat out of an argyle sock, yay me), 200 on Tuesday. My brain isn’t able to focus right now. I don’t know whether it’s from the change in my meds or just a normal fluctuation in my mental workings.  Either way, booooooooo.

Already accomplished 4 blog posts (including this one), plus one scheduled. Yay.

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WIPpet Wednesday: Bite Night

Welcome to WIPpet Wednesday, where we share a snippet of a work in progress that in some way relates to the day’s date, hosted by the scrumdiddlyumptious K.L. Schwengel.

In keeping with last week, when I showed you a first draft (of a first scene) on the first, I’m going to give you something else from the same story for the 8th. Not an 8th draft, but the last 8 paragraphs of a scene I had a lot of fun writing.

To set the scene: Shivva has gone to the club, yadda yadda, it’s feeding time! She’s chosen a first-timer, taken him to a dark alcove, and tried to make him comfortable; the human’s emotions at the time of feeding will affect her, and she’s nervous enough about the assignment without him adding to it.

Content warning: much groping of bodies and nomming of necks.

Enjoy.

He pulls me closer with one arm while his other hand continues to explore, now pulling in frustration at my jeans, now slipping under my shirt. His skilled groping is a little distracting, but it sends delightful tingling sensations to places I don’t have much use for these days, and I let it continue as I press harder against him, kissing his neck down to his collarbone, nibbling a little, teasing myself. I could have had him by now, but it’s so much more fun to make it last.

His rapid breathing indicates that he’s enjoying himself already, but I trail my hand down over his chest, over the hard muscles of his stomach, lower, just to make sure. Hey, there. I laugh softy into his ear. “You like that?”

He whimpers in response, and I spin around, straddling his legs, grinding my hips into him. He groans. I can only imagine what anyone listening outside would think, but it’s no worse than what’s happening in whatever sound-proofed room Trixie has disappeared into. My lips are on his neck again, drawn to its heat and to that thing that goes beyond physical senses and calls to something deeper inside of me.

My body shudders. His hands are so warm; the chill of my skin doesn’t seem to bother him. Perhaps it excites him, as it does so many others. He pulls me closer still and moves his body beneath me, and I wonder whether perhaps feeding couldn’t wait just a little longer.

Then he moves his head to catch my lips with his own. The shock of it freezes him, but only for a moment. It’s our saliva that poisons them, that sends them out of their bodies with the overwhelming pleasure that keeps them coming back. He’s just had the tiniest taste of it, and he wants more. His tongue pushes into my mouth, any skill he’s acquired with his fragile human girlfriends forgotten in his desperation to be closer to me.

My left canine scrapes the delicate skin of his mouth. He gasps at the pain, but doesn’t pull back. The taste of blood nearly drives me mad. It is life. It is existence. It is everything.

I pull away before I can bite his tongue off. He twists his fingers into my hair to hold onto me, but his strength is nothing compared with mine. He’ll get what he wants, though. I lower my mouth to his neck again and sink my fangs into his skin, savoring the resistance of that thin barrier. He cries out. Yes, it hurts them, every time. And then my mouth is sealed over the twin wounds, drawing the blood from him, and the sounds he makes turn to soft gasps of wonder and disbelief as my poison overcomes everything else that’s in him. His pulse is strong and his blood hot, and it flows easily down my throat. The melancholy that plagued me earlier in the evening and the uncertainty I felt in Miranda’s office are gone. I am real, I am present, I am powerful, and there is nothing outside of this moment that matters.

It’s going to be hard to stop.

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