Scattered Thoughts, Random Musings

Amber stared back at the midnight dark eyes that bore into her as she reached for the phone. She should have been used to the detective’s piercing gaze by now but tonight it was different. More predatory. She tore her eyes away and flipped open the cellphone. “Hello, Austin?” A grunt followed by heavy breathing vibrated through the phone. “Austin?” A chill ran through Amber’s veins when a low husky voice spoke through the phone. “No, honey, Austin's a little... preoccupied right now.” The woman on the other end spoke with slight amusement and all thought fled Amber’s mind. She gripped the phone and willed her voice to sound calm yet firm. “Where’s Austin?” The woman laughed. "Don’t worry, honey. He's alive... for now.” Amber's arm went slack and she stared at the phone as if she didn’t recognize its purpose. Marc immediately grabbed the phone from her hand and pushed a button. The woman’s cool, throaty voice filled the room. “...depends on you.” Marc shoved the pho...

Marc sat in the only chair in the small motel room. Amber, now fully clad in jeans and a simple top, sat on the bed with her leg tucked underneath her. Try as he might, he couldn't shake the sight of her smooth dark skin against the furry white towel. She had stood there, all silk and softness, and it had been like a jolt to his senses. He almost forgot his purpose there. But her exasperated sigh quickly drew him out of his daze. “Look, I'm sorry I left the station like that but like I said, I had no choice.” “Yeah you do. But you choose not to trust me.”  She shook her head, resigned. “You don't understand.” Marc sat back and studied her. She appeared anxious. And defeated. Taking another look another around the room, he couldn’t suppress the frustration that rose in him. “Is this the life you want for yourself? Being holed up in a seedy motel, constantly on the run?” The rustic bedside lamp illuminated the faded wallpaper and brown carpeting that decorated the smal...

Idiot . Marc directed the insult to himself and the woman who had him wrapped around her little finger. She had worked the helpless, desperate act well and he had fallen for it. Hook, line, and whimper. It had been easy finding her. She hadn’'t even bothered checking in under another name. Either she really so naive or she wanted him to find her. And if he could find her, then whoever was after her could too. All he had to do was flash his badge. But anyone with some extra cash and enough interest could pay for that info. He had no reason not to believe she was really in danger. His instincts told him she hadn't been lying about that. But considering how she'd played him for a fool, maybe he couldn't – shouldn't – trust his instincts where she was concerned. He stalked past a row of dim-lit motel rooms until he arrived at the lucky number. Room 409. He hesitated just outside of the door. If he pounded on the door, she could panic and try to crawl out of ...

Amber’s heart thudded against her chest as she walked out of the busy precinct into the cool California night. She couldn’t shake the image of the detective’s harsh, angry face so she tried to focus on getting as far as she can from the police station. She vaguely noted the rapid descent of the California sun and realized there had been no sense of time for her in that tiny interview room. It was getting increasing late and she began to have second thoughts about going back to her house. After what happened today, her stomach knotted at the thought of going back to her dark house, even for a second. But she had no change of clothes and more than anything, she wanted to get out of California as soon as possible. Luckily, she managed to find a cab just a short distance from the police station and gave the driver directions to her home. She promised him a nice tip if he waited for her. She even gave him half the fare upfront in case he thought she would cheat him out of his fare. H...

As soon as the doors closed behind Marc, Amber waited a few seconds then got up from her seat. Though she appreciated what the detective tried to do for her, she couldn't go with him. She had to get to Austen. She went to the door and held her breathe. She slowly turned the knob. It cracked open enough for her to peek through. The halls appeared disserted but she couldn't see beyond the row of file cabinets to confirm. She opened the door wider and stepped out of the room. Two uniform police officers walked toward her and she froze. One of the officers looked curiously at her and willed herself to relax. They couldn’t know why she was there so she plastered a smile on her face, trying not to look suspicious. She nodded to them when they came nearer and, to her great relief, they nodded back and continued pass her. She vaguely remembered the way to the elevators but couldn’t imagine herself simply strolling out of there, unnoticed. And she didn’t. This time a ...

“What are you going to do with Bennett’s sister?” Marc looked through the video monitor at Amber Bennett. She sat staring off into space, looking completely loss and alone in the interview room. She had been sitting like that since he’d left the room. So far her story checked out. Neighbors had witnessed a man fitting her attacker’s description in the area and a quick dump on her phone confirmed that she’d received a call last night during the time she’d purported to have spoken to Austen Bennett. Apparently the call came from someone in Nevada. It was lead but Marc didn’t get too excited about it. Since she wasn’t technically a suspect, he couldn’t hold her. And she wasn’t a witness so he couldn’t take her to a safe-house. It was obvious she was scared shitless, ready to do whatever her fugitive brother told her. But he couldn’t allow her to go on the run. He needed her. She was about to play a key part in his investigation. As Marc thought about it, he knew there ...

Writing Workouts By Carolyn MacCullough These are a few writing exercises that always seem to produce great results with my classes.   1. Good stories often begin with a great first line. Here are some examples: “All children, except one, grow up.” J.M. Barrie, 
 Peter Pan “It’s a funny thing about mothers and fathers. Even when their own child is the most disgusting little blister you could ever imagine, they still think that he or she is wonderful.” Roald Dahl, Matilda "By our second day at Camp Crescendo, the girls in my Brownie troop had decided to kick the asses of each and every girl in Brownie Troop 909." Z.Z. Packer, Brownies Spend ten minutes brainstorming the best, most intriguing opening lines that you can. Then pick your favorite and run with it.   2. Follow these lines and see where they take you: “If I could tell you just one thing about that night . . .” “The only thing that really scares me anymore is . . .” “Th...