Show us a scene from your current project. It can be creepy, adventurous, romantic, etc. Just a snippet to let readers see what they're in for!
* Must be from a current work-in-progress (WIP). Nothing already published.
* You may choose from any section of the manuscript, but be mindful not to include spoilers.
* Keep it clean and YA audience friendly, please. No erotica.
* Stay under 300 words or about one page. It can be as little as a few lines if you prefer. We just want to give readers a chance to see everyone's selection.
* Link back to Chirenjenzie to enjoy others' work as well!
This is the opening scene in one of my many WIPs. The title is still up in the air. Hope you enjoy :)
The hot summer sun beat against my fair skin, blistering along the part in my hair. Three imposing pyramids stood in front of me as dry desert air whipped my hair around my face.
“Memphis?” A voice said. I ignored it and concentrated on the sandy colored stone of the oversized triangles.
“Memphis!” The voice called again.
The briny scent of salt water filled my lungs. I sucked what air I could manage through the humidity and sighed. Again. Opening my eyes, I left Egypt and spied coastal South Carolina. A deep scowl etched in my expression as I slid my sunglasses on.
“Memphis, please.” Mom rolled up to a stoplight. “I thought we agreed that you were going to have a good attitude about this?”
“No, Mom.” I crossed my arms and propped my feet against the dashboard. “You agreed that I was going to have a good attitude. I never said anything like that. I don’t see why I have to be here. Why can’t I come with you and Dad? I barely know these people anymore.”
Mom sighed and rolled her warm brown eyes. “We’ve been over this, Em. The university won’t allow you to go, and you know everyone here just fine. Gram’s been so excited since she heard you were coming.”
“It’s not Gram. It’s everyone else,” I hinted, not wanting to think about the boy that made my visits a constant torture. “They drive me crazy!”
“Honey, I know Ian’s been tiresome in the past,” Mom soothed. “But it’s been almost five years since you last saw him. I’m sure he isn’t the same obnoxious twelve year-old he used to be.”
“I’m sure he is.” I scoffed. “Some boys never grow up.”
“If that’s true, I give you permission to slug him.” Mom winked.
“Yeah, right. You grounded me for a week the last time that happened.”
What are you working on this week?