Sharing and a Teaser...
I got my First Pass Pages this week for THE PLEDGE, and in the midst of petting and adoring them (See? How gorgeous are they?!) I almost forgot that you might want to take a peek too!
Look at that font...
Basically, FPPs are my last chance to go through and make any last minute tweaks and corrections. Or as I like to call it, another chance to read THE PLEDGE! It's made me excited about this book all over again...I totally can't wait to share it with you guys. In fact, I've decided to share a little teaser with you today.
I'm not gonna bother setting it up, other than to say, breaking the law in Charlie's world does NOT get you a slap on the hand!
He took a step closer, and my ribs crushed my heart, threatening to stop it from beating. I wanted it to be fear, and that’s what I told myself it was, I felt threatened by Max. But I knew better, I knew it was something more. And then he surprised me by softly asking, “Why did you leave so early that night?”
I was afraid to speak, but he just stood there, waiting. I tilted my head back, so I could meet his stare. I wavered, trying to decide how to answer him, and then I simply said, “I wasn’t feeling well.”
He gazed down at me, and I had the strangest feeling he knew I was lying. But he only sighed, a reluctant smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Will you walk with me?” he asked at last.
It would have been easier to answer if I could breathe, and if my pulse would stop fluttering so wildly. I shook my head, unable to stop staring. “No.” I finally trusted my voice. “I need to get inside. I have work to do.”
“What are you so afraid of?” He said it so tenderly, so gently, that I almost didn’t realize he hadn’t spoken in Englaise. Yet it wasn’t Parshon, either, which was the only other language I could have responded to.
I’d heard those sounds—that dialect—only one other time, that night at the club, when his friends had spoken about Brooklynn.
And the law was clear.
I blinked once, keeping his dark gaze in view for an instant too long, and then I dropped my head. This time my heart crashed within my chest for entirely the right reasons: fear, terror, dread.
“I don’t understand what you’re saying.”
I prayed that he believed me. He reached across, inching my chin up so he could look at me.
There was a scowl on his face, or was it something else? I wished that I could decipher his expressions as easily as I’d translated his words.
Look at that font...
Basically, FPPs are my last chance to go through and make any last minute tweaks and corrections. Or as I like to call it, another chance to read THE PLEDGE! It's made me excited about this book all over again...I totally can't wait to share it with you guys. In fact, I've decided to share a little teaser with you today.
I'm not gonna bother setting it up, other than to say, breaking the law in Charlie's world does NOT get you a slap on the hand!
He took a step closer, and my ribs crushed my heart, threatening to stop it from beating. I wanted it to be fear, and that’s what I told myself it was, I felt threatened by Max. But I knew better, I knew it was something more. And then he surprised me by softly asking, “Why did you leave so early that night?”
I was afraid to speak, but he just stood there, waiting. I tilted my head back, so I could meet his stare. I wavered, trying to decide how to answer him, and then I simply said, “I wasn’t feeling well.”
He gazed down at me, and I had the strangest feeling he knew I was lying. But he only sighed, a reluctant smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Will you walk with me?” he asked at last.
It would have been easier to answer if I could breathe, and if my pulse would stop fluttering so wildly. I shook my head, unable to stop staring. “No.” I finally trusted my voice. “I need to get inside. I have work to do.”
“What are you so afraid of?” He said it so tenderly, so gently, that I almost didn’t realize he hadn’t spoken in Englaise. Yet it wasn’t Parshon, either, which was the only other language I could have responded to.
I’d heard those sounds—that dialect—only one other time, that night at the club, when his friends had spoken about Brooklynn.
And the law was clear.
I blinked once, keeping his dark gaze in view for an instant too long, and then I dropped my head. This time my heart crashed within my chest for entirely the right reasons: fear, terror, dread.
“I don’t understand what you’re saying.”
I prayed that he believed me. He reached across, inching my chin up so he could look at me.
There was a scowl on his face, or was it something else? I wished that I could decipher his expressions as easily as I’d translated his words.
Comments