Lots of 'S's in that title.
Today, I wanted to give ya'll a snippet from my new book, coming out in late winter 2013 from Astraea Press. This is an unedited snippet, so don't judge too harshly :)
Want more sweet samples? Click here and read snippets from other clean/sweet/awesome fiction :)
SAINT SLOAN
Chapter 1:
The cold November air burned Sloan’s lungs as she ran down the secluded dirt driveway. Looking over her shoulder at the brightly lit farm house swarming with people, she wished she had grabbed her coat from the living room before escaping. Her legs protested with each additional step she forced them to take, and, in retrospect, she felt like an idiot. In four days, she would be eighteen, an adult; why should she care what others thought of her? Or, more specifically, what Darcy Perry thought of her?
After nearly a quarter of a mile, the driveway slopped down at a steep angle and met Brown Hollow Road. Sloan stopped at the bottom, doubled over, and put her hands on her knees to catch her breath. The harder her lungs extended, the sillier she felt for running away like that. Sure, Darcy was mean, exceptionally so when she drank, but she shouldn’t have let her words hurt her like they did. And that’s all they were, words. Words and cold beer thrown in her face. Sloan felt her damp hair and wondered how she would explain it to her mother.
When her breathing came easier, she stood up and looked back toward the house. From her vantage point behind the short hill, she could see all of the lights burning in the second story windows and hear the music blasting throughout the isolated farmland. The glow from the floodlights surrounding the house made it appear to float in the sky. No doubt about it, Boyd knew how to throw a party. Sloan couldn’t help feeling a little satisfied thinking of how Mr. Lawrence, Boyd’s father, would react when he found out his Biology students were getting drunk at his house without his knowledge.
She leaned on the standard-issue black mailbox and frowned. It wouldn’t be fun to walk all the way back to get her coat and beg Mackenzie to take her home. Everyone would stare at her, mock her, and call her ‘Saint Sloan’, Darcy’s “pet” name for her. The thought of Darcy’s smug face rising inevitably from Boyd’s muscular neck made Sloan’s stomach knot harder, and she slumped farther down against the mailbox, causing the metal to creak. Times like that made Sloan wonder why she ever went anywhere. She didn’t drink or do drugs, and she wasn’t into sex anymore. She was the “reformed bad girl”; and everyone loved to taunt her about it, especially her former best friend, Darcy.
Blinding lights coming toward her right side caught her attention. Turning toward it, she put her hand over her eyes to block the brightness of the passing car. Instead of speeding by, the car slowed down and stopped across the yellow line from her. Goosebumps, not from the cold, formed under her long sleeves. Meeting a strange person in a strange car at night in the middle of an old country road didn’t appeal to her. Bloody flashes from every horror movie she’d ever watched invaded her mind. Suddenly, being made fun of and harassed at the party didn’t seem so bad. She wished she had been able to control her temper better and never have run out of that house. Automatically, she grabbed the little golden cross that had fallen under her dark teal shirt collar and prayed for whoever it was in the car to not be a homicidal manic.
The driver’s side window rolled down, and Sloan squinted through the dark to see inside. “You OK?” an unfamiliar male voice said. Whoever it was didn’t sound much older than her.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she stammered, rocking on the balls of her feet and preparing to run if the situation escalated beyond friendly chatter. “Just out for a walk.”
“In the dark?”
“Seemed like a good idea at the time,” she said truthfully.
Sloan heard a hint of a laugh coming from the car. At least, it didn’t sound menacing. “Like I said, are you OK?”
“Fine,” she said with an undercurrent of defiance. She wished he’d just go on his merry way.
“In my experience, people don’t go for walks in the dark when everything is fine.”
“I’m… I will be fine. Thanks for stopping. You must be in a hurry.” She tucked her hands under her elbows and walked back up the little hill. Seeing the lights and hearing the annoying music coming from the farmhouse filled her with dread. Between the house and conversing with a stranger alone in the dark, she figured the house would be safer, but not by much.
“I don’t have to be at work until eleven,” he yelled. “I can take you home if you want.”
Sloan spun around, half expecting him to be standing behind her with a rag full of chloroform. “Thanks. That’s sweet, but it’s OK. I can go get my friend to take me home.” Lord, please don’t let her be drunk.
She started to turn back around when he yelled again. “You don’t know who I am, do you?”
Of course she didn’t. It wasn’t like she could see in the dark. “Should I?”
“Guess not. I’ve not been back in town very long. You’re Sloan Bridges. You used to date, and I use that term loosely, my brother back in the day.”
That didn’t help much. “Could you be more specific?”