I promised a little more from my current WIP Once Were Angels. This novel is becoming a little bit special. Yeah, I'm actually enjoying working through the revisions on the first half ( ha! there's two words not usually found together 'enjoying, and revisions'). I'm using Camp NaNoWriMo (starting April ) to finish it up, then after a few more tidying sweeps-- Alpha readers! Anyway here's is a little more from OWA's draft files.
“This place is rather grand isn’t it? Prettyish. All a nice, big show.” She murmured, looking out the window toward the crystal-bright sun and the city basking in its light. Omega's ivory spires towered, aglow with radiant majesty almost as if they were seeking to outshine the sun itself.
“But what is it really like?” The question was a sideways avenue, to what she really wanted to know-- why would Odez ever want to leave this? But she left that question unspoken. The silence stretched a time until his almost muted answer cut the space between them. “It’s quite grand and its inhabitants quite blind to anything but its grandness."
|The System of Worlds, as prescribed by the Archon-See,|
rulers of Omega
“They care to the extent that the System works and that Omega is safe.”
“I’m sure you are.”
“You know I am.” She mused slowly, a half smile tripping across her lips.
“I should let them explain things to you then.”
“I don’t trust them.”
“You don’t trust me either.” Odez countered softly, his eyes suddenly a little bit darker, a little bit dangerous.
“No.” She whispered, “You got me there, Dez. But you seem the lesser of two evils right now.”
“You should sleep first.”
And right on cue her body responded to his words, like it was some sort of hypnotic suggestion. The resonance of his voice perhaps. Her eyelids felt sluggish and the pressure of her hands upon the window got heavier as she leaned into it. “Maybe you are right?”
As she turned away from the spectacle of Omega City she noticed the slump of Odez's shoulders, the darkening around his eyes. It was almost as if she was feeling his exhaustion rather than hers. She wasn’t the empathetic type, never had been, but then this connection (or whatever it was) was deeper than her own will, beyond her control. As they walked back into the bedroom, their shoulders brushed together and that accidental closeness seemed like the most natural thing in the world.
Those strings, she thought. I wonder if there’s any way to snip them before this gets complicated.