Despite a day filled with interruptions, I managed to add a little over 2,500 words to my Evil Intent novel, which is pretty cool. I plan to add another good chuck tomorrow.
Here's a sneak peek from the novel. Bear in mind that this is a first draft and could very well change before going to print.
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Harold Palmer was tired.
The handful of Advil he’d taken had helped with the pounding in his head, but hadn’t completely knocked it out, which was to be expected. He’d taken a blow to the head less than a day earlier and was still reeling from that, then coupling it with very little sleep and he was surprised he was still able to stay upright, much less function.
Apparently, Carter noticed this as well. “Why don’t you go home and get some rest,” he told Harold. “I’ll call you as soon as I find out anything.”
“I’ll be okay,” Harold said, although neither of them really believed it. “Just didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”
“Yeah, right,” Carter said.
Before he could offer a retort, Harold’s cell phone rang, his ring tone a generic funky tune that Beverly said always reminded her of a cheesy 70’s movie. He slipped the phone from its perch and saw that the call was from Ray. Normally, when he was at a crime scene, he would ignore a call from his brother and let it go to voicemail, but he didn’t feel like listening to a lecture from Carter so he answered it. “Not a great time, Ray,” he said softly. “Can I call you back?”
“Actually, I think this might be important, Harold” Franklin Ray Palmer’s voice said through the speaker.
That got his attention. Ray never called him Harold, especially if it was a private conversation. “Is something wrong?” Harold asked.
“Yeah,” Franklin said. “I’m flying solo here today. Myers and Dooley aren’t here and I really could use them.”
Harold snapped his fingers, which grabbed Carter’s attention.
Carter mouthed What’s going on?
“What’s going on, Ray?” Harold asked, making sure Carter could hear. He did and motioned for everyone in the cramped apartment to stop what they were doing and quiet down.
“Who’s there with you?”
“I’ve got an Agent Rogers from the ATF here in my office. He said he needed to get in touch with you.”
“Rogers? Brian Rogers?”
Suddenly, everyone in the room was listening to the conversation.
“Brian Rogers?” he asked, putting emphasis on the first name as he fished a sharpie from his pocket, pulled the cap off with his teeth, then spit it onto the countertop. There was no paper close at hand so he wrote directly on the pressed wood countertop.
“Yeah. That’s him,” Ray said.
Harold scribbled a note on the counter, Lehmann! At my brother’s office! Call Myers! Then he wrote a phone number down, thankful for his good memory.
Carter nodded and pulled out his own phone and dialed the number, walking across the room to talk without being overheard through Harold’s conversation.
“Is he listening in?” Harold asked.
“No,” Ray said calmly. “He’s in my office.”
“Okay. Stay calm.” He took a breath, tried to take his own advice. Panicking would not help Ray get out of this. “Listen. There’s no time to explain, but that’s not Brian Rogers."
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Writing an action sequence tomorrow. I put the pieces in place today and finished up with gunfire being exchanged. Action is fun to write, but also tricky. You have to come up with interesting ways to explain the action and not repeat those same phrases again and again.
Oh, I would be remiss if I didn't mention that Harold Palmer's first thriller, EVIL WAYS is still available in paperback and multiple ebook formats. Just click the
NOVELS tab above for all the information.
Thanks for stopping by. I hope to have more excerpts soon.
Bobby
