Quotes/Scenes

I love that quote!

From my fantasy novel Ransom:

"The Storm Jewels," she repeated. "A daunting task. Many before you have tried- and failed. What makes you think you’ll succeed?"
"Well," he placed a hand over his pocket. "I have a riddle."
"As did the others."
"I have a map."
"Marked with a big red X, I presume."
"I have a priest."
Skylar snorted derisively. "A lot of good that'll do you."
"I have the best Hired Sword in the three countries to ensure that I make it there and back alive."
Skylar tilted her head in acknowledgement. "There is that. Perhaps. If your price is right."

I love both those snippets.

Here's a bit of a longer scene for a book I want to write someday, where the characters and author of a book somehow interact and have to unite to keep the bad guy in the book from becoming real and taking over the world (or something of that sort).

The author relaxed in the mirrored hall, pen in hand. A footstep alerted her to another’s presence and she glanced up, then started to her feet. “Who are you?”
The uniformed man crossed his arms, securing his rifle strap on his shoulder. “Captain Trent.”
“Trent?” the author’s brow wrinkled and the man snorted.
“Or X, Y, or blank…whatever you prefer to call me. You haven’t named me, but my name is Trent.”
“Ok.” The author nodded slowly. “And you are…”
“Captain of your villain’s troops, of course.” In a swift motion, Trent brought the barrel of his rifle down to the level of the author’s chest.
She pushed it away. “You do know you can’t kill me.”
“I’m not worried about killing you,” Trent retorted. “It’s your hero.”
“Titus?”
“Whatever.” The man shrugged. “What I want to know is how he dash across the whole garden without all my men, and myself, shooting at him. And he didn’t so much as get nicked! He’d have been dead within his first dozen steps!”
“Well –”
Trent swung to the side and pulled the trigger of his rifle. The author put her hands up to her ears as a crack reverberated through the room and a mirror at the far end shattered from the center.
“What did you…”
Another shot, and another. Two more mirrors shattered.
“Stop it!” the author jerked on Trent’s barrel. “Do you know how long it took me to imagine this place?”
“Do you think I care?” Trent jerked the barrel of his gun back. “I have trained for years at this rifle. And so have my men. I can hit a duck at 100 yards, and I can’t hit a human runner at 10? What is wrong with you? We are professionals, not some second-hand security officers!”
The author pressed her lips together and glared at Trent.
“Remember.” He turned on his heel and walked a few steps, then spun back around. “And just so you know. I support a wife, three children, and a disabled mother-in-law. So if you want to kill me, you’ll have to find someone to provide for them!”
Swinging back toward the door, Trent pulled the trigger one more time and strode out of the room to the echoing of falling glass.

Here's a bit from a story I'm working on right now. It's my great grandparents' love story.

The girls began to walk down the boardwalk toward the roller coaster, chatting happily. All at once, Jane drew up short and said, “Why girls, we’ve forgotten Kay!” She began to turn around when Ruth suddenly grabbed her arm.
“Not that way, Jane,” she said quietly. “People would stare at us if we just abruptly turned around and started walking the other way.”
Jane stared at Ruth. “Well, we can’t just abandon Kay.”
“Oh, I know,” said Ruth. “Wait just a moment.” Ruth began looking through her purse and the pockets of her skirt. Her search grew more frantic by the moment. Finally she looked up at Jane and said, “We’ve got to go back. I forgot something.”
As the girls turned and began to walk the other direction, Millie screwed up her face in a confused expression and asked, “What was that all about?”
“Well, turning around because I forgot something seems more normal than turning around for no reason. Now at least the people around us won't think we're weird.”
Jane continued to stare at Ruth. “True,” she said. “Now your friends just think you’re weird.”

Here's one from my work in progress. Love the sarcastic interchanges between these two.

“Stop staring at me,” she snapped without even looking at me. I suppose she knew it would be the only thing I would be doing.

For a second I felt sorry for her, that she had been disfigured so, and said with all sincerity, “I’m sorry, Miss Flauschild.”

In incredulity she actually turned to face me, once again shocking me with the pure grotesqueness of her twisted face. “Are you smiling?” Her whole tone was full of amazement and disbelief.

I couldn’t understand her question and deemed it to be rhetorical.

It took her only two seconds for her to return back to her old cynicism. “Firstly,” she said, “don’t apologise, for goodness’ sake; and secondly — no one calls me Miss Flauschild.”

Now I understood her shock. She must have thought me to have been mocking her, but in truth it was only common courtesy for me. “So,” I said, hesitating, “I call you Cyan?”

“No, you call me Axel and I’ll call you — oh, what about moronic imbecile?” She was rolling her eyes again. I supposed I would have to get used to that hideous movement.

“Oh, really?” I exclaimed. “Thanks! I’ve always hoped that someone would give me a name just like that. Because I’ve heard that people are mean to those they especially fancy.”

That effectively quieted her. She glared hotly at me — a terrifying expression — and pursed her white lips together in fury. Our friendship was off to a great start.

"Our friendship was off to a great start." That made it ten times better.

Do you know how people say, “Don’t read other peoples journals”? Well, Serena didn’t know that. Ok, maybe she did, but at that point she wasn’t going to let a rule stop her, she had already broken one.

If I told you, I'd have to kill you.