WIPpet Wednesday: Steel-Toed Boots

Happy Wednesday! Sneaking in a little late because I’m spending this week volunteering with a music, arts, and drama camp. The kids are cute, but it’s intense putting together even a short play in just one week of half-days.

Anyway, I haven’t had much chance to write this week. A little, but it’s slow going with all the other things happening. All three of my WIPs are continuations of series, which is unusual for me. Minuet is the last main part of Notes from Boston (which I may continue in a different format later); the as-yet-unnamed YA novella is connected to Year of the Guilty Soul; and Tree of Life is a companion novel to An Act of Devotion. Despite not writing much this week, I feel surprisingly good about all of them.

I’m posting a bit more of Minuet. I love writing in Amelia’s POV. This bit is from the first chapter in her perspective.

WIPmath: 15 sentences for the 15th.

Amelia’s boots weren’t made for walking; they were steel-toed and made for kicking someone’s ass through his teeth. She’d once trained rigorously until she was finally strong enough to take on the man who’d spent the better part of her childhood using her as boxing practice. She wasn’t sorry that she’d broken his nose when he grabbed her hair and tried to haul her around like he was used to doing. He’d threatened to call the police, but she had no fear of that happening. He wouldn’t like it if the cops discovered all the shit he’d stolen, and she had ample proof.

Her sperm donor left her alone for good after that. She didn’t know and didn’t care where he was now. She’d heard through the grapevine a few months back that he was out of jail after the accident he caused out on the Cape. Misdemeanor motor vehicle homicide, they said. Took out a pregnant woman. Amelia wasn’t worried he’d come find her, not with his license suspended for fifteen years.

Which was why, when Mack called her at the end of the summer, she’d agreed to go see Sage. She had power over him, and he damn well knew it. Even Jamie didn’t know Amelia was sitting on the truth. No one was ever again going to control her or someone she cared about.

Like what you read? Be sure to check out the other entries and add your own. Just post a bit of your WIP, connect it to the date, and link up with us. Many thanks to Emily Wrayburn for giving us this space. Happy reading and writing!