Thursday, January 16, 2014

An Added Scene!

Hello, everyone!

Hope you all are have a fabulous 2014 so far. As I've said, the more drafts I do, the more the characters evolve.  For your reading pleasure (hopefully), I am giving you part of an added scene in "Descent" (Book 1):
The first real kiss of Dorothy and Carl when they are out on their first solo date together.

In the first draft, I did gloss over that (for reasons I'll explain in a vlog I'm going to do), but with the new drafts, the scene began coming to life (as did a couple others that show the development of their relationship before all the shit begins hitting the fan).

So, hope you enjoy the new scene (the book is still is going through editing, so bear with me).

:)






Throughout the picture, Dorothy noticed Carl stealing glances at her as he gave her hand gentle squeezes. When the film was halfway through, he placed his arm around her shoulders, bringing her close to him. Her heart fluttered as she laid her head in the crook of his neck and felt his chin rest on the side of her head. They remained that way throughout the duration of the picture.
After the film ended, they walked out into the night and used the half hour they had left to completely indulge in their walk back to Dorothy’s, prolonging their time together as much as possible. Their hands were laced together, the same magnetic pulse between them as was there a month prior. The two were about to cross under a lamppost, a mere block away from where Dorothy lived when Carl paused.
“Carl, what is it?” she asked.
He turned to her, his eyes blazing with intense heat. “Dorothy…I…”
She could feel her heart pounding as he stepped in to her, never taking his gaze away. His hands circled her waist and drew her close to him with his mouth only inches from hers. A cool night breeze circled around them beneath the warmth of the lamppost’s light. Her breath hitched in her throat as he tilted his head slightly and brought his face closer until his lips lowered onto hers.
Dorothy tensed, letting out a surprised moan as Carl’s lips began slowly massaging hers. Her head began spinning with realization of what was happening. Carl pulled her in closer to him, wrapping his arms around her as though he were afraid she would slip away. Elation replaced the initial shock and she returned his kiss while holding him tightly. The warmth of the lamp’s light mingled with the crisp autumn night permeated their beings. Dorothy thought she could feel Carl’s heart rapidly beating in time with hers. Neither wanted the kiss to end, but they parted, lost in one another’s gaze.
Carl’s chest was heaving with the deep breaths he took. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Dorothy looked into his intense hazel-green eyes. What took you so long? she wanted to say. But all she could do was stand breathless in the aftermath.
The two embraced again, both wishing that the breeze would take them somewhere far away.
“I have to get you home,” Carl said.
“I know,” she managed.
They reluctantly parted from one another and walked home in a serene silence.
When they approached the walkway up to the Blake house, Carl paused, causing Dorothy to do the same. She looked into his eyes; there was that same intensity present that had been there earlier underneath the lamppost. He turned to her, taking both her hands in his. “Carl…” she said, glancing nervously toward her house. She looked back at him as he drew in a breath and gave her lips a quick but gentle kiss. He then looked toward the front door of her house (as someone afraid that his girl’s father would, at any second, come barging out onto the porch with a loaded shotgun). In fact, Matthew and Liz had both been at the window as Carl dropped Dorothy off, and had seen the goodnight kiss along with the way their daughter and her boyfriend gazed at one another.
Matthew swallowed, looking as though he had swallowed a shard of glass. Liz placed a assuring hand on her husband’s shoulder. There was nothing either could do to prevent Dorothy from growing up. She had come a long way from being the frightened and timid little girl she was from the time she was seven. And she seemed to be falling in love. Their daughter was almost a woman. No longer a little girl. No longer Matthew Blake’s little girl. And that scared him.
Carl walked hand in hand with Dorothy up to the front door. “I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said.
She nodded. “Goodnight, Carl.”
He started to say something else, but instead nodded and simply said, “Goodnight, baby.”
Her heart swelled at the term of endearment. She turned and placed her hand on the doorknob as she heard Carl’s footsteps retreat down the porch steps. She turned around and in the dim light next to the front door, she saw Carl standing in the walkway looking back at her. She smiled and gave him a small wave before opening the door to enter her house. She peered out the front window and saw Carl take a final glance at the house before disappearing down the block to his own.
It had been a night that neither would ever forget.

Dorothy walked into the kitchen where her parents sat. Her father sat paging over that day’s Wall Street Journal and her mother prepped the food for breakfast the next morning.
“I’m home,” Dorothy said.
Matthew and Liz looked over at their daughter and only child.
“Hello, sweetheart,” her mother said. “How did the evening go?”
“It was so wonderful!” she wanted to swoon. But she maintained her composure and said, “It was very nice.”
Liz smiled. “Good. I was going to go visit with Mrs. Turner tomorrow.”
Dorothy returned her mother’s smile and looked at her father. He turned his lips up slightly, a rather wistful expression.
“Well, I’m going up to bed,” Dorothy replied. “Linda and Gail want me to call them tomorrow morning.”
And they did. Before Dorothy got home that day to prepare for her date, her two friends insisted on being given any and all details of the night with Carl.
She went to her mother and father, hugging both of them.
“Goodnight, honey,” Liz said.
“Goodnight, sweetheart,” Matthew said.
Dorothy closed the door to her room and flopped onto her bed, beaming from ear to ear. She replayed the evening in her mind, and anticipated Carl’s phone call to her the following afternoon. She also looked forward to telling Linda and Gail all that happened. Her lips tingled at the memory of the kiss…
She gazed at the dreamcatcher above her bed, an artifact of her Ojibwe and Sioux heritage.
It’s the beginning…she thought, next weekend is the Autumn Dance! Then Carl’s eighteenth birthday on the 25th, and then George Kolinski’s Halloween party, then the Winter Formal…
Her thoughts wandered as she stared up at the feathers that hung from the beaded web. The word ‘marriage’ began forming. She wasn’t sure if it came from her listening to Linda chatter on about her own pending wedding to Jimmy, but she found herself contemplating the possibility of being married to Carl after high school.
Dorothy Blake-Turner…Mrs. Carl Turner…
She recalled the way he had looked at her before taking her into his arms underneath the lamppost, the way he looked at her as he told her goodnight…was it love she saw?
Dorothy quickly arrested the thoughts. We’ve not even been together for a month. No one falls in love that quickly. Not even in literature…and if they do it always ends in disaster…Romeo and Juliet is a classic example of what not to do.
But what of your great-grandparents?
Dorothy sat up and looked around her bedroom. Where did that come from?
The voice was pronounced, comforting, and one she could not identify. Whatever it was spoke the truth. The stories of Jonathan and Kimimela Blake told of how the two had reportedly fallen in love upon their first meeting, were engaged after two months of courtship, and then went on to be happily married for over sixty years.
Her heart palpitated as the memory of the kiss she and Carl shared filled her mind and the sensation she felt pulsed through her veins. She recalled his hands on her waist and then pressing against the small of her back. She thought of how her hand felt as it held his. How his hands felt when he touched her…
Her thoughts grew more intimate and she began to wonder about experiencing the physical pleasure Linda spoke of having with Jimmy. A few couples from school used the parties, dances, and other events where they were away from their parents to their advantage. Even Gail had been talking about how she and Reginald planned to use one of the forthcoming events to finally go all the way. The thought of being with Carl in such a romantic, intimate way caused her to have feelings that seemed like tasting forbidden fruit. Feelings that made her lower body squirm as she lay back on her bed. Despite the events of the evening, the idea just did not seem possible.
I wonder how long it took for him to kiss Bernice…or that girl, Veronica, from the speakeasy…or Juliette Sims…the voice was like a soft whisper, distant and ominous.
Her fantasy of Carl stilted and she sat up again, chills prickling her skin and a feeling she was being watched. She sat frozen as darkness washed over her. The feeling was familiar, one that mirrored the oppressiveness she felt when she had that horrible nightmare years ago…the one she could not remember…
The feeling did pass and Dorothy was able to stand and slowly get ready for bed. She tried taking away the memory of the horror from ten years ago by continuing with her re-reading of Wuthering Heights, a book she had made a tradition of reading every autumn since she was thirteen. She had only gotten to the third chapter when her eyelids began to grow heavy. She marked her place and set the book on her nightstand next to her small radio, a sage candle, a lamp, and the wolf figurine given to her by her father’s cousin, Tahatan, on the day she was born.
With another glance at the wolf figure, she pulled the small chain on the lamp, shutting her room in darkness. The waning gibbous moon was bright in the sky that night and cast its beam into the room through her light blue and cream bedroom curtains. Above her, the web of the dreamcatcher seemed to glisten as a spider’s web would on a dewy spring morning. She stared up at it with the love story of her great-grandparents playing through her mind. As much as they had loved each other, the relationship of Jonathan and Kimimela had not been without challenges.
Before drifting into sleep, her last thoughts were questions of what the future held. Questions on where life would take her and Carl.

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