I’m enjoying doing Nanowrimo, even though I’m already behind. I got all caught up in the election and stopped working on it for a couple of days. Now I’m more than 3,000 words behind. I’m enjoying myself, though, so I’m going to try to keep trudging through. One of my issues is that I want to keep going back and correcting stuff whether it’s wording or spelling or grammar. It’s the editor in me; it bothers me when I catch something that looks or sounds wrong. Every time I sit down to write the first thing I do is reread the whole thing from the beginning before I start writing again. Right now it’s fine as it’s only 10 pages, but it might be bad for me to do when it’s longer.
Just for fun, here’s a small part of the first chapter.
As I made my way through the sweaty, stinky mass, I marveled at what hold these humans had on Caitlyn. What is it that drew her to them? Having to watch them and live off of their evil deeds since I became a demon I saw nothing that made them worthy of her devotion. Other than taking all the negative energy I could coax out of them, they were of no use to me. They were disgusting beings, including when I was one. They lived only to serve themselves, selfish to a fault. It bothered me none, as long as they kept their greed I could live off of it. I still tried to stay away from them as often as possible.
I stood behind her for a moment, wondering what it was she was thinking. I was hoping with a few more jobs I would gain the power to read minds; if only I had finished the last one. I growled low in my throat remembering being pulled away just as the greed was entering me. It was small but would have helped, even if only with my current powers. She sat completely unmoving, watching as the humans passed her by or ate at the food court in front of her. Damn her, I was hungry.
I gracefully moved to sit on the bench beside her. I felt her stiffen. Part of me wanted to outright scold her like she was my child. If she had taken more energy she would have felt me when I appeared and wouldn’t have been taken by surprise. We knew that she could possibly become a liability for us if she was unwilling, fighting our very nature. I wasn’t about to be put in a position to decide between her and my next feast.
“If you stop denying yourself and feed off of their despair you will be stronger,” I told her. This wasn’t new territory; she knew.
“If I feed off of their despair, I will become one of you,” she said softly, fidgeting slightly in her seat.
I laughed loud and hard, offending her. “I hate to tell you sweetie,” I began, turning to look at her, “you already are one of us “
I sighed and relaxed, sliding down slightly and stretching my arms along the back of the bench. I stayed with her and watched the humans go about their lives in the busy mall. Our bench was clear of them. We didn’t know what it was, but have theories that they can feel the evil we feed off of and most of them generally want to stay away from the big, bad demons. I never got close enough to a human to find out what repulsed them about us, what made their heartbeats quicken feeling their fight-or-flight responses kick into gear. Did we smell different? Did we look different?
I peered at my reflection in a store window to my right and I smiled. I looked human enough. My silky black hair was pulled in a tight librarian bun except for a few strands carefully placed to frame my face. I always put my hair up in a bun when I was doing a job. Otherwise my hair would be down, falling along my back, its long black strands complimenting my dark olive skin. I wore a black leather corset and tight leather pants – all the better to look sexy in as they hugged my curves and showed off my full body tattoo. The tattoos started at my collar and followed down to my feet. They were expertly burned into my skin by another demon and were my pride and joy. My height was nothing to brag about so I always wore heals, no exception was good enough. Besides, being taller made me feel more powerful. My black boots weren’t small and thin and sexy. No. I liked thick, tall boots. I loved my boots to look like they could kill if I struck at you.
My reflection looked at me wickedly. The smile on my full lips reached my coffee-colored eyes, their almond shape widening in the reflection of the window. I felt a human flinch as they moved toward me. I turned my head to look at them. It was a mother and small son, walking towards us. The son flinched at us again as they got closer, about to pass by us. My smile widened. When they got just close enough I leaned in towards them quickly and hissed. They ran off, followed sharply by my giggles that I refused to repress, even for Caitlyn’s sake.