July 7, 2008 | Book One, Book Stuff, DA Series, Draven Atreides, Life in General, Miss Snitch Mondays, writing workshops
I had started Miss Snitch Mondays in order to introduce the public to the Draven Atreides series. I began posting the unedited version of Book One in May in honor of its release in April 2009. However, after recently attending a writing class, I realize I still have a lot to learn about writing and being a good writer. I’ll be enrolling in a writing program in September that will take 1-1/2-2yrs to complete. I want the series to be a success and I believe that taking this program will help me to achieve that goal. In light of this recent decision, I’ve pushed back the release date of Book One to April 2010. I still plan to post excerpts (which will end around this time next year) and you will still be able to sign up on the Pre-Order Notification List.
If you’d like to catch up, the Prologue started on May 4th and Chapter One started on June 2nd. This month, you’ll be reading Chapter Two. Enjoy.
CHAPTER TWO
Close to eight o’clock, I drive home after dropping Poe off. I tap my fingers on the wheel to the beat of a Smokey and the Miracles song. Gotta love the oldies. I grew up on Motown and rarely listen to the R&B and alternative stations Ricky and Poe seem to love; but I keep them programmed on my radio for them anyway. Pulling into the parking garage twenty minutes later, I head up to my fourth floor apartment. Closing the door, I hang the keys on a hook near the doorframe and inhale deeply. The faint scent of ocean and lavender wafts under my nose.
“Home sweet home,” I murmur with a contented sigh.
The Victorian Square apartments on Portland Street had been the last place on my list. There was nothing Victorian about the place, but I had taken an instant liking to the airy spaciousness and hardwood floors. I’d never known how claustrophobic I’d been until I’d seen this apartment. It only has four doors, five if you count the front door. The door-less bedroom leads straight past a door-less closet and right into the living room-slash-family room.
The main color scheme is purple, my favorite color, and the different shades are common throughout. From the Volkswagen Beetle in the parking garage, the dishes in the kitchen, the jewel-toned satin comforter and fishnet canopy in my bedroom, right down to my most prized possession: a dark purple, crushed velour padded chaise lounge with a matching foot stool and tassled pillow. Poe loves it just as much as I do and says that it makes her feel like a queen when she lays on it. It’s my favorite spot to chill out, too.
The complex seems to have its own little community as well. The ground floor houses a yoga studio, a small gym, a reasonably priced restaurant and a deli. It’s also spitting distance from the public library and a movie theater. The clincher, of course, is the best coffee house slash deli in the city: CoolBeans Café, which is on my way to school. I’m a frequent visitor and the girls that work there know me by name. Sweeping aside the beaded curtain leading to my bedroom, I kick off my sneakers, toss my backpack on a corner chair and throw my purchases on the bed. I’m glad I had been able to talk Poe out of “vogueing up”. I normally don’t mind dressing up, but it’s not like we’re going to the Academy Awards. It’s the Grand Re-Opening of a spa, for heaven’s sake. I know from experience if famous people show up, they’re going to look like they just rolled out of bed.
Moving into the kitchen, I take down my teapot, fill it with water, set it on the stove, and turn the knob. Moments later, the teapot whistles. I pull down a large heavy mug, pour the water, and repeatedly dunk a bag of Chamomile tea. Cradling the mug in both hands, I shuffle to my desk, boot up my laptop, pull up my journal and begin to type.11 November
Reflection
It’s been a while since I’ve written in a diary. June 14th 5:31pm 2003, to be exact. My life of late has definitely been diary-worthy, but I no longer trust writing my thoughts down in a book. Books get lost. Or left behind when you have to leave in a hurry. Not that I really left in a hurry, mind you. There was a little planning, but enuff for me to know the meaning of the word “sacrifice.” I left a lot of things behind two years ago. A purple, fur-lined suede coat. Central Park. The FCFH and their dirty little secret. Chevalier’s the name and human trafficking was there game. Need some factory workers? Call up Derek Chevalier; he’ll get you people that’ll work their fingers to the bone for a meal and a chance to bring another family member to the States. Oh yes, and my name. I left behind my name for the second–and very last–time.Today. This day. The 11th of November, is the anniversary of my new life. The day I left the nightmare of Olivia Chevalier’s life in New York City and took a seat in the offices of The Agency in Arizona. As Miss Snitch. A new life that’s nothing like the Witness Protection Program, because, well, it’s not. A new life that includes a very important job with a certain company that will deny my existence til their blue in the face. No matter how bad those bamboo shoots under the nails hurt.
I haven’t told Party Girl or GQ about my New Life Anniversary. I hadn’t really planned on it and probably never will. Well, I shouldn’t say never. I’ve only known them a year and circumstances could change. I mean, it’s not like it’s my birthday or anything. I just kinda have to be careful what I say around them because, well, there’s this one little thing–okay two–two little things that they–maybe three–yeah, three little things…sigh. Okay, let’s just say I have some privacy issues that I’m not at liberty to discuss. And Chief probably wouldn’t care because I’m just a client to him. Hang on. I have an incoming call. It’s Chief.
I stop typing to answer my cell phone.
“I was beginning to worry,” says the voice in a low baritone.
“Not enough to send out the cavalry, I hope,” I reply with a grin.
“No. I would have waited at least another half hour. You are late. Is everything all right?”
“Yeah. Got caught up in the whole Internet thing,” I explain.
“You are usually very punctual.”
“I know. I got home later than usual,” I say.
“Oh? How was school?”
I shrug. “Oh, y’know, same old, same old. But it’s a good same old, same old. I really like this school.”
“You are not bored?”
“Not yet. I imagine I will be soon enough. Some of these classes are still new to me,” I say, taking a sip of my cooling tea.
“Did you hang out with Poe after school today?”
“Yeah. We went shopping, had dinner.”
A deep chuckle filters through the wires, making me smile.
“I know how much you love to shop,” comes the teasing reply. “What is the special occasion?”
“Spa day. At The Royale Treatment Day Spa. Poe was able to get an invite,” I say.
“That’s significant,” he says after a moments pause.
“Yes. Yes it is.”
“Hmm. Well, I hope you have fun.”
“I think I will. This time. It’ll be different.”
“I agree. So, do you know you have been with me for a year as of today?”
I smile and grip the phone tighter. “Really? I didn’t think you cared.”
~ Get to know Draven beyond the book by checking out her blog.
~ Sign up for the мебеликомпютри втора употребаDA Book One Pre-Order Notification List below
