This is the Midweek Tease blog hop, run by Angelica Dawson. Writers post teasers about their newest release, or their work-in-progress, or their backlist.
Last week I chose a selection titled My Hospital Gown Fluttered to the Ground from Newborn, a science fiction romance. Here is the very opening of the book.
I was born.
One moment I didn’t exist and never had existed and then, blink, I stood in a clearing, fully dressed, well-armed, and impatient to tackle my Destiny.
Like a magnet seeking north, I strode toward Destiny, downhill and to my left—baby’s first step—and tripped. Rising slowly, I stretched my arms out for balance against the world’s unexpected hazards.
“Careful,” I whispered—baby’s first word, spoken in a creamy soprano that soothed my ears. I looked around, which I should’ve done before taking a step. How could I kill if I couldn’t even walk?
I stood on a slab of granite underlying a small clearing surrounded by a forbidding wall of underbrush. A jailbreak, then, would be the first test of my worthiness for glory. The granite was craggy, a miniature mountain, so I crept up its peak. Pleased with my strength and agility, I stood there like a totem pole, one-point-seven meters above my birthplace.
Green-grey light revealed a hushed immensity. Except for the clearing over the slab, evergreen branches formed an impenetrable ceiling. Starved of sunlight, the ground beyond the clearing supported few shrubs, but fallen logs and boulders would make leaping over my jail walls perilous.
To my left, however, was a patch of flatness. Could I leap the bushes and land there? It would be tricky; maybe impossible. The sniper rifle over my shoulder could throw me off balance. Even if it didn’t, was this body capable of such acrobatics?
Destiny insisted I try. Back up four paces, crouch. So far so good. After that it got dangerous, but I didn’t hesitate. I broke into a sprint, thrust upward, and curled into a ball.
And it worked! I soared over the jail walls. Angry at my escape, a branch spanked my bottom.
I stole my opening line from a famous book by a famous author. Any of you know what/who it is?
Click here to view teasers from other great writers trying their hardest to tease you.
She was born to kill. Not love.
Jo Beaverpaw is born fully grown, well-armed, and impatient to tackle her Destiny … killing her alien nation’s most wanted fugitive. Her life is pre-programmed and straightforward – until she meets the sexy bodyguard of her intended target.
What if Schwarzenegger’s robot assassin in the original Terminator had been a bad-assed (yet petite) female? To find out, read Newborn.