Welcome to the romance Writers Weekly blog hop, where every week a great group of romance writers answer questions and accept challenges. Diverse in what we write, we are unified in the quest to bring you, the romance reader, a very happy ever after.
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Today my good friend Marc Stevens offers up a writing challenge – Flash Fiction Challenge: Planes, trains, and automobiles (or even boats) give us a quick scene set on/in a moving vehicle.
Fun stuff, and I’ve been playing around with a couple of new characters for a future novel, so here’s a quick peek at them.
Stranger on a train.
Brakes squealing, the dingy subway car lurched to a halt. Doors slid open and grumbling commuters shuffled out.
A seat opened up across from the doors and Katherine slid into it. She let out an exhausted sigh, but let the soft smile linger on her lips. She’d had that dream again, waking her in the middle of the night. This time he’d taken her farther, almost to the point of . . .
Around her, voices stilled.
A lone figure stood in the train car’s doorway. The kind of man that attracted attention in any crowd. A man of mystery, dressed formally but with a dark blue cape on his shoulders, like something out of the past, or the future.
Light from behind cast the form in shadow, but familiarity sent tingles creeping up Katherine’s spine.
It couldn’t be.
As the man crossed into the train, the interior lighting illuminated his features.
Raven haired, a scruffy five-O’clock-shadow darkening his granite jaw, the man scanned the car. Dark, sullen eyes, the kind that burned into your soul, were suddenly directed at her. Eyebrows arched. “Katherine?”
The doors swished close behind him, the train lurched back into motion, as their eyes locked. Trapped in his gaze, her heart thundered in her ears as moments turned into centuries.Then his gaze wavered, dropping to the floor as his cheeks reddened.
Katherine steeled herself. “Damien?”
Her core clenched. Gooseflesh crept up her arms. She’d never met him. Yet, she knew him.
His name, his visage, and his touch were oh so familiar to her. Every night for the past two weeks he’d haunted her dreams, stripping her bare, kissing her crazy, and taking her farther and farther every night toward an inevitable climax. Each night closer, but never there.
He stepped nearer, took the seat next to hers, then gently took her hand. “I thought, maybe, it was time we met.”
***
What do you think? Want to know more about these two? I have a new series percolating that I think they’d fit into perfectly. We will see.
Now check in with the high-flying Marc Stevens, as the Romance Writers Weekly blog tour continues at: https://marcstevenserotica.wordpress.com/
And check out Suburban Spies, part of the Cherished Secrets novella collection:
A Writer's Haven 