Yikes! I missed Hump Day Hook on Wednesday. I wish I could say I had a good reason, but I just plain forgot. I usually schedule these things in advance so I don’t have to remember them and as a foreseeable result, I also forget to do the scheduling part. One of these days, I really need to get my act together.
Anyhoo, it’s Weekend Writer Warrior Day! I remembered! For those of you who don’t know, the Weekend Writing Warriors blog hop is a weekly event in which writers are invited to share eight sentences from one of their works for other writers, readers and random bloggers to read, critique and comment on. Visit their site by clicking on the button below for a list of other participating writers and share the love!
Like all snippet-producing posts this month, today’s WeWriWa is from The Last Hour of Gann, picking up where last Sunday’s Sneak Peek left off and continuing with tomorrow’s Sunday Sneak Peek. Feel free to catch up if you’re just joining me, and don’t forget to leave a comment if you want to enter my Gann Giveaway! One lucky winner will be drawn just as soon as I’m ready for the book to go live. You can keep an eye on my progress with the Work-In-Progress widget in the sidebar. Just remember that, like all my books, The Last Hour of Gann contains graphic violence and strong sexual content, so if you want to enter the drawing, you have to tell me so each and every time you leave a comment. Thanks for reading!
And Amber would nod, because sometimes if you agreed enough early on, the real shouting never got started, but privately she had her doubts. Privately she thought, even then at the age of eight and especially as she got older and Bo Peep Bierce grew more and more embittered, that it didn’t prove a whole lot to say that men thought all women were whores when the only men you saw in a day were the ones…well, buying a whore. If you want to hang with a better class of man, Amber would think as she nodded along with her mother’s rants, quit whoring.
Not that you could quit these days. But it had still been her choice to start.
And these probably weren’t the most respectful thoughts to be having at your mother’s funeral. Amber gave Nicci’s shaking shoulders a few more pats and tried to think of good things, happy memories, but there weren’t many. Her mind got to wandering back toward the eviction and the Manifestors. It had better be today, she decided, listening to Nicci cry.
After the funeral. But today.