I’m feeling contrary today, so I’m going to mix things up today. Instead of continuing with snippets from my sci fi rom, Alien Contact for Kid Sisters, I’m going to take a paragraph from the beginning of each of the six books in the Alien Contact for Idiots series and see what we end up with.
A crash from the living room shocked Ell Harmon out of a nightmare. She jerked to a sitting position and peered wildly around her dark bedroom. The window rattled and the bed swayed as though a flock of cats were parading across a waterbed. But Ell had no cats. Ditto waterbed. (Alien Contact for Idiots)
Chief? Quinn Lebatarde’s lips tightened at the insult, but almost immediately, he grinned. The tourist’s clothes shouted money to burn, as did his Rolex watch and expensive digital SLR camera. And so Quinn pocketed the money but held onto the cheap, plaster replica of an ancient Kwadran woodcarving the man and his wife were buying. (Alien Contact for Kid Sisters)
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. (Newborn)
And so Dusty wove her way timidly around machinery that smelled of oil and ozone. Nothing was neat and tidy down here; in a prototype, speed and ingenuity trumped meticulous design. Everything was makeshift, a giant kludge sprawling through three-thousand cubic yards. That meant a lot of places for saboteurs to hide a bomb, but only two where technicians wouldn’t discover it in the course of a workday. (Rescuing Prince Charming)
He hadn’t spoken during the forty minute climb through a dense yet sickly evergreen forest with so many dead needles it was sometimes like slogging through loose sand. She’d been meaning to state her terms for at least thirty-nine of those minutes, ever since they’d started up this mountain. But exertion and his fierce silence had robbed her of words. (Alien Contact for Runaway Moms)
A gust of wind, arctic gods laughing at her, turned her coat into a sail; she held onto both cat and coat with difficulty. “I gave my half of the rent money to Deidre every month,” she told the cat. “How was I to know she was keeping it for a one-way flight back to Perth?” (Alien Contact for a Christmas Nutcracker)
There you have it. I dare you to make an intelligent comment about this mishmash!