The rules... Go to Page 7, 70, or 170 of a current Work in Progress or recently published work and choose either the first complete paragraph or 7 lines of dialogue to share.
Here is the excerpt from page 170 of my soon to be published book, Fly or Fall.
Steam infused with sandalwood swirled around me. I rested my head against the wet wall and expanded my lungs. Today’s exercise session had been a disappointment. My movements were wooden, my limbs heavy; I got through the class somehow, but was unable to achieve the usual split between the mental and the physical. In the past it had been here, in the steam room, where I’d found the greatest release. As my languid body grew hotter and sweatier, I would luxuriate in the bawdiest of fantasies. Not today. It was so very hot. I’d no energy to move, yet the relaxation I sought eluded me, and as for fantasising? Reality had intervened. I’d woken up.
Many times the steam exhaled, filling the cell-like room with a dense, aromatic fog, and many times the fog thinned and condensed, falling from above in cool heavy drops. This self-indulgence could no longer be justified. I roused myself and began to stand; suddenly overcome by a draining weakness, I clutched for the door, conscious only of the imperative to get out of this cloying heat. My hand was on the handle, but I had no strength, yet the door swung open. There was someone in the way, blocking my escape. My head jangled and the perimeters of my vision closed in, a dark frame round a dwindling image. A chill wave of nausea swept over me. Then I was asleep and dreaming.
‘Mrs. Hardcastle? Mrs. Hardcastle? Are you all right?’
‘David?’
‘It’s Sharon, Mrs. Hardcastle. ‘
I could see smooth, tanned legs and the white edge of shorts. I realised I was outside the steam room, sitting sideways on a lounger, my head on my knees. I sat up giddily.
‘You fainted,’ she said. ‘Lucky I was there or you’d have hit your head on the tiles.’
‘Thank you.’ I glanced up. ‘...Sharon. How long...?’
‘Just a few moments. How are you feeling now, Mrs Hardcastle?’
‘Bit groggy. ‘
‘Should we call an ambulance? Or your husband?’‘No!' Not Trevor. 'It’s my own fault. I stayed in there too long. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine in a moment. I drooped my head down onto my knees again.
I have tagged seven other friends and fellow authors. Some are willing, some have yet to get back to me. I'm sorry if this proves a burden. Melanie Roberston-King, Kimberly Menozzi , Jo Lambert , Margaret James , Kit Domino , Linda Mitchelmore , Jeannine Gray .
Here is the excerpt from page 170 of my soon to be published book, Fly or Fall.
Steam infused with sandalwood swirled around me. I rested my head against the wet wall and expanded my lungs. Today’s exercise session had been a disappointment. My movements were wooden, my limbs heavy; I got through the class somehow, but was unable to achieve the usual split between the mental and the physical. In the past it had been here, in the steam room, where I’d found the greatest release. As my languid body grew hotter and sweatier, I would luxuriate in the bawdiest of fantasies. Not today. It was so very hot. I’d no energy to move, yet the relaxation I sought eluded me, and as for fantasising? Reality had intervened. I’d woken up.
Many times the steam exhaled, filling the cell-like room with a dense, aromatic fog, and many times the fog thinned and condensed, falling from above in cool heavy drops. This self-indulgence could no longer be justified. I roused myself and began to stand; suddenly overcome by a draining weakness, I clutched for the door, conscious only of the imperative to get out of this cloying heat. My hand was on the handle, but I had no strength, yet the door swung open. There was someone in the way, blocking my escape. My head jangled and the perimeters of my vision closed in, a dark frame round a dwindling image. A chill wave of nausea swept over me. Then I was asleep and dreaming.
‘Mrs. Hardcastle? Mrs. Hardcastle? Are you all right?’
‘David?’
‘It’s Sharon, Mrs. Hardcastle. ‘
I could see smooth, tanned legs and the white edge of shorts. I realised I was outside the steam room, sitting sideways on a lounger, my head on my knees. I sat up giddily.
‘You fainted,’ she said. ‘Lucky I was there or you’d have hit your head on the tiles.’
‘Thank you.’ I glanced up. ‘...Sharon. How long...?’
‘Just a few moments. How are you feeling now, Mrs Hardcastle?’
‘Bit groggy. ‘
‘Should we call an ambulance? Or your husband?’‘No!' Not Trevor. 'It’s my own fault. I stayed in there too long. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine in a moment. I drooped my head down onto my knees again.
I have tagged seven other friends and fellow authors. Some are willing, some have yet to get back to me. I'm sorry if this proves a burden. Melanie Roberston-King, Kimberly Menozzi , Jo Lambert , Margaret James , Kit Domino , Linda Mitchelmore , Jeannine Gray .
1 comment:
A most compelling excerpt, Gilli! I've posted mine now, as well. I hope you'll enjoy it!
http://www.kmenozzi.com/1/post/2013/07/7-x-7-wip-excerpt-thanks-to-gilli-allan.html
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