Writing Tip: 190#

1200x630bb

You can’t afford to ignore the promotional power of social media. A visual platform such as Pinterest or Instagram lets you share details such as cover design or visual quotes from your book with links to online stores where interested readers can buy copies.

Advertisements

Famously

Interrogation Room

The woman spat blood to the floor, the tears now falling much heavier down her face. Her shoulders heaved once again as sobs shook her head and the creak of rope strained against her.

The blond man shook out his hand, hissing as he did.

“She’s got a tough face,” he noted to his black haired companion. The red head was now drooling pink spit falling to her blouse as she continued to sob.

“I don’t know what you want from me! I’m not Hiza.”

“Of course not,” the Black-Haired Man said, his voice dull and grey. He sighed and folded his arms across his chest, “hit her again,” he said in the same tone.

The Blond Man sighed as well but stepped towards the Red Head again.

She screamed, what little movement her legs had she used to try and push herself away from the two men. It didn’t work, and his fist fell with a dull thud. The Red Head sniffled.

“I’m not Hiza!”

“Sure.”

“Do I even look like them!?”

The Blond Man joined his companion with his arms folded.

“Well famously no one knows what Hiza looks like.”

The Black-Haired Man let out a long sigh.

“Well why do you think I am them!?”

The two men looked at each other, at the sight of his partner’s arms the Black-Haired man shook his arms out.

“We have good information that you are Hiza.”

“No, I’m not I’m Caroline Hansen.”

The woman’s sobs became louder, crying into her chest. The two men stood frozen for a minute,  making the woman rock in the chair, her sobs becoming screams.

“…As in Fredrick Hansen’s daughter?”

She sniffed, “you know my father? He’ll kill you when he finds out what you did to me? He’ll break every bone in your body! He’ll burn you alive.”

The men looked at each other for a long time.

“If he finds out,” the Blond Man repeated.

The Black Haired man nodded and drew his gun.

 

You couldn’t have waited?

Wedding Cake

Samantha beamed at her groom though she wasn’t really paying him any attention. She was smiling for how perfect the day was going. Her train was being held by her beautiful niece and her dress were dazzling white. Her hair was curled, her makeup was flawless. Everything was prefect. Even the groom was, a twenty-five hunk with an oil baron father, days from dying. She smiled for the crowd who was simpering as the groom read his vows. She dabbed the corners of her eyes. She wasn’t listening to what he was saying but didn’t matter really. He just needed to say his and then she’d say hers and then they’d be flying to the Bahamas.

The church doors opened and at first Samantha paid no attention to the screams from the aisle, they had been very over dramatic all day. Only when the gunshots started did she scream herself, pushing the groom away as she dived. Everything happened in slow motion and Samantha was able to turn just in time to see her groom riddled with bullets, ruining his three-piece suit with his blood. She sobbed as the vicar fell gracelessly across him. She had been so close. The bullet storm still streamed overhead, but she could see the cloak room from where she was. If she could just crawl unnoticed to it…maybe she could see what the law said about marrying a dead man. She slipped when she took her first step, biting her red lipstick in pain. She turned over, her whiten dress was now stained by blood.

“Shit,” she hissed. The shooting had quietened though the screaming had not. Samantha held her blood stained dress and looked across at the groom. He wasn’t moving, deathly still. She sniffed and sobbed again. So close. Heavy footsteps approached her, and she groaned and rolled her eyes as the shooter came into view.

He was masked and held the gun to her head, still all she did was exasperatedly mutter, “You couldn’t have waited until he said I do.”

 

Writing Tip: 185#

[Robbie Blair on his Writing Space] My walls have humorous posters about commonly misspelled words, how to use semicolons, and when to use i.e. or e.g. in a sentence. I do this because I want to make myself comfortable, but also because I want to remind myself that writing is what this space is for.

-Robbie Blair