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Switching gears this week. These are six sentences from my latest book, Against the Wind. Michael and Blair are trying to get to a shelter on a barrier island as a category 3 hurricane hits the coast. They've just spoken to a deputy sheriff who's directed them to a shelter. Since Blair new the man, she had to introduce Michael, but she did so as Kevin, a name Michael chose, since an all points bulletin has been issued for his arrest.
“That’s a horrible name for you.” She kept a firm grip on the wheel, her eyes on the road. “Michael is who you are. Michael and whatever the mysterious middle A stands for.”
He thought of all the intimacies they’d shared and of those things they hadn’t, like his middle name. Which made him wonder again what had possessed his very American mother to give him such an un–American name. One that, in its simplicity, made him Latin American to the core.
This is from a romance novella I've written, but haven't edited fully. The tentative title is Dancing in the Dark. These six, not the first six, are in the heroine's POV.
She was Janey Blackmon, Plain Jane, as she'd been known in high school, and he was Matt Kincaid. Super Cool Matt Kincaid. Known only as Matt, when all the other Matts had to use their last names to differentiate themselves. An enigma even then, but one that drew people to him. As she'd been drawn.
She watched him walk down the hall, a tall shadow against the stormy sky beyond the living room window.
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