Catch Me If You Can - Blogfest

Today is the Catch Me If You Can blogfest, and yay, how exciting! Click on the image above to find out more info! But I will say that this is what is required (other than signing up for the blogfest in the first place!):

"On Monday March 7, post the first 550 words (or less) of your WIP on your blog. If you can, leave a link to your email address* in case someone has an especially long critique." - Kristina Fugate

So, I will post my excerpt below, but first off, here is my email address in case anybody wants to send pages and pages of critiques. Hehe.

I had similar concerns to others about copyright and stuff, so I opted to go with a WIP that has only really just begun. I wrote what I do have on it years ago, but haven't touched it much since. But I'm interested in revisiting it, once I figure out all the important stuff - like, what the hell is the story actually about? Hehe. But anyway, here are the first 523 words (according to Scrivener) of this work.

Zerek

Thunder cracked in the skies overhead as the doorbell rang. I groaned softly and extricated myself from the blankets on the couch, swiping up my glass of wine as I passed into the hallway. At the front door I peered into the looking glass and frowned, seeing nothing. I waited, and another knock sounded. I started.

The door was still vibrating from this latest thumping when a shockingly familiar figure moved into my line of vision. My blood instantly ran cold, my breath caught in my throat and my entire world seemed to constrict. I started again, more violently, when my wine glass shattered on the tiles.

A third knock came, and numbly I reached out and disengaged the door locks one by one. Finally I slid the chain out and twisted the doorknob. Moving back to make way for the door, my gaze fell upon Zerek Brogan, dramatically changed in appearance since I'd seen him last—ten years ago, that had been—but looking strangely the same, too. He stared at me more intensely than he had ever done back then, and I saw desperation in his eyes. Something else, too—an apology?

"Amy," he said, his voice husky.

I swallowed against my panic, thoughts tumbling through my head. Nightmare thoughts I had managed to suppress for the last decade.

The time had come at last, it seemed. Somehow I had always known it would.

The past was reaching for me, and once it had its grip it would never let go.

Maybe I could delay it a while.

"What do you want?"

"I need..." He trailed off and winced, clutching at his side. That was the first I noticed he was injured. "Can I come in? I just need some shelter. For a little while."

My whole world was upside down. Not just that; it was shaking violently, its foundations threatening to collapse beneath me. I felt light-headed, even a little nauseous.

Zerek seemed to take my silence as acquiescence, and I watched in stunned silence as he moved past me into my hallway, walking with a gingerness that spoke volumes. He really must be injured. At the entrance to the lounge, he turned to me again. "You might wanna shut the door. It's cold out." His voice was so painfully familiar, and it had a similar impact as it had in the old days—but it was worse now; it cut me deep. "Lock it, too," he added. And without another word, he turned and disappeared.

In a daze I closed the front door and locked it without thought—he hadn't had to tell me to do that; ten years hadn't made me any less cautious. Then I turned and leaned against the door, trying to decide what to do.

I had to join him, of course—I had to find out what the hell he was doing here, and what his appearance meant for me. But I wasn't excited about it.

My life had been dormant for almost ten years. Not anymore.

I drew a deep breath and, steeling myself for whatever might come, headed down the hall.