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!
Here's a scene from book two of The Willows series, Thorn.
"What a beautiful place," I marveled, peering around the most stunning garden I'd ever seen. Splashes of lavender and cream climbed a brick archway leading into yard encased by box hedges at least ten feet tall. A stream so clear it looked like glass laced around the edges, acting as a welcoming moat.
I skipped over the wooden bridge, pirouetting beneath a shower of delicate peach-colored petals falling from a nearby tree. My laughter dissolved till only a smile remained. I turned, reaching for Gabe, but came up empty.
"What are you doing?" I asked, looking between the entryway and him.
His brows settled low, his turquoise eyes stormy with conflict as he stared past me to the garden. His thoughts seemed a million miles away.
"Hmm?" His expression morphed into feigned disinterest.
"Aren't you coming?" I gestured toward the gate.
He hesitated a moment, his focus dazed as if he were lost in a memory. "Sure."
Gabe cast a furtive glance over his shoulder. He slid the bolt aside and pulled the gate back, motioning for me to lead the way. I passed through the archway, my fingers trailing across the aged brick, and entered an open courtyard. Yet another fountain adorned the entryway, only this was more than just a fountain. Water cascaded in a clear sheet, masking four marble beings behind a wall of liquid glass. The intricate carving left faces as beautiful and lifelike as the immortals they represented. A bubbling pool formed at the gray stone basin around their bare feet, the outer rim damp and darker than the rest. Rich moss grew from the chips and cracks, weaving pathways like tiny verdant fields. Somehow it felt almost alive, full of history and stories.