So we’re 7 days into National Novel Writer’s Month and I have 15,884 words as on 3:26pm today! I’ve decided to revisit some characters that I feel very comfortable with and am adding some new twists and new characters around the existing cast.
The novel, “Twelve” is the prequel to “Ouroboros” set 3 years before the events of the latter. You learn more of the back-story of Alex Sunderland, Seth Brock, and Nathan Levy – plus you’re introduced to a host of other enigmatic characters including an assassin who is being stalked after killing someone he shouldn’t have, a recently fired talk radio host who has intense dreams about being a non-verbal quadriplegic whose respite worker abuses and humiliates him, and a mysterious woman who seems to appear and disappear at will.
Here’s an excerpt:
He felt the wind rip past his face. He wondered how many skin follicles the wind had taken with it and how many cells from other beings were floating along side them. His spine tightened. The skin made him think of those little mites that live on your eyelashes. What were they called? They have a specific name he wasn’t really . . . Google! <<———————————>> oh, they’re called eyelash mites. How much time had passed? He had to think, he looked down at his iPhone to see what the time was. It was 12:09 … wait, he couldn’t be sure at what time he’d zoned out so knowing the time wasn’t at all helpful. He exited back to the main screen and saw the app for weighing his marijuana. He smirked. He probably shouldn’t have that on his main screen. There was a lock on his iPhone though. 0312. So he guessed it didn’t really matter what was on his main screen. The phone vibrated and his whole body tensed.
Answer? Don’t Answer. Answer? Don’t answer!
“Edward?” A calm baritone voice filtered out from the speaker and squirmed its way into his ear and to his eardrums. The information was converted into electricity and fired off to the brain.
“Listen, I . . . I have it. I just I don’t have it with me, okay?” He yelped worriedly.
“That’s disappointing, Edward,” the voice turned decidedly sinister and Edward’s throat tightened.
“You have to just wait, I mean, I’ll even fucking take you there. Just give me a little time.”
“You’ve had long enough.”
The same voice was suddenly much louder, and much nearer, and much clearer.
This was the last thing Edward ever wanted. He’d been so careful. How did they know where he was? The man Edward knew only as Carter stepped forward from the darkness of the alley and into the harsh yellow light flooding down from the street lights above.
“Listen, it’s really a funny story-“
Someone in the darkness knocked over a metal garbage can that rung with dull clunks whose sound waves echoed back at him.
Oh my god! He sent two.
Demetrios, the other man’s other man, shot Carter a confused look. “Why are you letting him talk?”
“You don’t think I should hear him out?”
“No,” Demetrios scoffed. “We’re here to kill him so lets kill him.”
“Jesus,” Edward jumped. “Holy fuck, just, just listen . . . okay! Just fuckin’ listen. I have information that might help you guys.”
“I doubt it,” Carter smirked.
“Hey, fucking shoot him!” Demetrios stared at Carter like he’d just taken a shit on his foot.