Snippet Sunday – Hard-Boiled/Noir WIP – May 1, 2016
Snippet Sunday is a Facebook group for writers I’ve been hanging out with.
From the group guidelines; “Welcome to Snippet Sunday, where writers come together to share a few sentences of their current project–whether it’s a recently released novel, a WIP (work in progress), or an older manuscript that’s being revived. Intended to hook readers, gather feedback and build an author’s fan base, Snippet Sunday is the FB group that does all three.”
When we last left our heroes, Marisa had just confided some past abuse- and her novel solution to the situation- to Jake. Marisa had elicited a promise from an inebriated Jed to never hit her again. The action picks up right where the most recent snippet left off, with Jake asking her if Jed had been holding up his end of the bargain of late.
Her response? She says, “More or less.”
We pick it up with Jake asking another question;
“Which has it been lately?”
She took far too long to answer that question too. I gave her the out by asking an easier one.
“How long have you two been exes?”
She sloughed off my arms from around her waist, then waved the back of her ring-less left hand in front of my face.
“Yeah,” I said. “I noticed that back on the beach. Doesn’t really mean anything.”
The freckles on her cheeks reddened as she got sore. Heat spread into her sharp blue eyes.
“It means it’s been long enough.”
“We’re talking years? Months? Hours?”
She placed one hand on my shoulder, pulling me toward her. The clean ocean scent of her hair chased the stale barroom air for a couple of seconds.
“You know, Jake.” she rasped, right into my ear, “you’re beginning to sound like a guy who doesn’t want to take me home tonight.”
I glanced at Jed’s end of the bar. His buddies had all occupied stools and, like their leader, sat in silence, not looking at Marisa and me. Everyone who’d been anywhere near that part of the bar had moved away.
“Your boy sure is the life of the party,” I said, lifting my head back up. She left her hand on my shoulder.
“Why? What’s he doing now?”
“Not a damned thing.”
“That’s how he is,” she said with a shrug. “He looks like the big, loud type, doesn’t he? Well, he’s not.”
“Until it’s clobbering time.”
“Even then he’s pretty quiet.”
We shut up for a little while. Marisa began moving her hips in time to the slow blues number coming out of the juke box. I allowed mine to follow her lead.
“He could have something on his mind tonight,” she said.
“You mean other than you and me?” I put my arms around her as we danced.
“Bigger than you and me, Jake. Much bigger.”
I felt eyes on me from all around the bar, probably every eye in the place, except for those belonging to Jed and his pals.
“Bigger?” I asked. “What might that be?”
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