Excerpt Monday – August
Published at 12:39 am, on Aug 10, 2009, under Excerpt Monday. Tagged with , .

Excerpt Monday was started by Mel (Urban Fantasy/R) and Bria (Rom Com/PG).

I wasn’t going to do it this month because I have a lot going on and I honestly couldn’t think of anything to use, but I decided to for Mel and Bria. This was a piece I started last year (a story that I’m not good enough to write yet), so I decided to use it. I actually got the idea last year, while walking the devil spawn (aka the old puppy) when I saw the moon.

With her face buried in her hands, Kendra sat, hunched over on the couch. Her breath came in ragged, short gasps.

She prayed numbness would take over as the pain in her heart became more and more unbearable with each tear that streamed down her tear-soaked cheeks. It didn’t matter how hard she tried; she couldn’t make them stop.

Raw sobs tore from her throat, burning more and more. She started coughing so hard she couldn’t catch her breath. Instead of giving her a reason to try to calm down, it enraged her and she surged to her feet.

When the gold watch she had forgotten was in her hand fell to the ground and shattered, it was the last straw. She dropped to her knees and pounded the floor with her open palms. “Damn you,” she shouted between sobs. “You can’t do this to me. It isn’t fair! It isn’t right!”

Pain and a wet feeling under her hand gave her pause. Lifting it from the ground, she winced. Bloody handprints covered the ground where her hands had just been.

Why was she bleeding? she wondered dimly. Disgusted, she turned her hand over and discovered a cut, in the shape of a C, on the heel of her hand. It circled the burn she’d gotten earlier in the day.

Together, the wounds were unusual and, somehow, familiar.

She didn’t know how, but Kendra knew she recognized the design. She’d seen it somewhere. It meant something. It had to.

There were no coincidences in life. Isn’t that what she’d heard, even earlier that day?

Energized with a sudden spark of hope, she scrambled to her feet. She slipped on her own blood and fell back to the floor; glass crinkled under her knees and dug in to her skin. Ignoring the pain, she managed to get to her feet again and ran to her bedroom for her lock box.

Whatever was going on, whatever that design on her hand was, she knew it was important.


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