Roll
out the Red Carpet
Evernight celebrates four years of publishing!
Join
authors, bloggers and reviewers as we take a RED CARPET tour featuring
Evernight's smart and sexy books. Slip on your virtual stilettos and walk the
red carpet of award winning titles, spectacular reviews, and paparazzi style
interviews.
Be
sure to visit every stop on the tour where you can enter for a chance to win
great prizes, including a new eReader, gift certificates, swag, books and much
more!
Now
I turn the spotlight on my smart and sexy book...
* * * * * * * * * * *
This is from my new
W.I.P., and completely unedited - please excuse any errors:
Her wrists burned
from the restraints, her face felt two times too big, and her breathing was
labored. Chandra knew she’d been worked over real well, now if only she could
remember some of the details.
She remembered dinner
out. There had been dancing at a club, some drinks, and then nothing.
Absolutely, nothing. A big ass blank spot in her memory.
No, wait. A voice
asking questions, over and over again. Pain, she definitely recalled some pain.
Nothing like the training she’d gone through to withstand interrogations of
course, but it had made it onto her radar.
With care she worked
at prying her eyelids open. When that didn’t work she went with a little more
force. Didn’t really help, but she did gain a tiny slit of a view. Not that the
view was worth writing home about. Concrete walls, and floor. Solid looking
door with a chair sitting next to it, and her. There appeared to be some form
of light, likely a single bulb given how weak it appeared to be.
Then again, it could
be her shitty eyesight, and all those little dancing spots. Trying to tip her
head back for a look at what had her hands caught proved too much. She was
weak, and sore, her mouth was parched, and her head swam. Which meant she’d
been there for a damn long time. Not good, not good at all.
The door creaked
open, just like in all those good old fashioned horror movies, giving a nice
squeal at the end. Set quite the mood for whatever was going on.
“Wake her up,” a
voice said. Male, eastern European accent, cultured with a smooth edge of
brutality. Her host likely.
A wave of icy cold
water hit her body causing her to jolt, and gasp. It also told her that she
didn’t have a hell of a lot of clothing on, a bra and panties would be her
guess. Damn that seriously sucked, especially when she couldn’t remember
anything of importance.
Someone grabbed a
fistful of her hair, and yanked her head back. Oh, hey, she was dangling from
the ceiling from some sort of hook that reminded her of those used for hanging
beef. Not a great comparison, but her brain was a little sluggish. Her hands
were cuffed with some sort of leather banding, that then was looped over the
hook, and kept her up on her feet. Nifty little setup really.
“Ms. Dubois,” the
cultured voice said. “Shall we begin again?”
Answer
my question in the comment section for a chance to win (be sure to include your
email address):
*
Your choice of an Amazon Kindle Fire HD or Kobo Arc 7
* $100 Amazon GC
* $50 Evernight GC
* My blog prize: 1 Free Copy of any Back
List Book
(Forever Kind of Love, Dangerous Times,
Dangerous Secrets, or Dangerous Lines)
Question: What happens next in the above scene?
