A Snippet

So guys, I've started writing again. I figure my options are relatively slim when my husband goes to bed and I need to stay quiet. My options are either being a couch potato (which I already did), do the laundry (which I don't want to do), or write.

I'm actually really excited. I feel almost like a hipster, sneaking around at all hours, allowing my imagination to roam freely while most of the world sleeps.

I haven't named the book yet. It's something that normally takes me a long time. 99% of the time I don't get past 20 pages before I quit and a new character worms its way into my brain.

But hell. This new life is a risk. Might as well risk another story too.

It's the perfect night for it. There's a nice rain coming down outside, the house is quiet, and it's after 1:00am.

Here's just a little snippet of what I've got going on. If you like it, and I keep writing it, maybe I'll start a page where I post it all.

              As the club approached opening hours, more of the girls started to trickle in and the energy level ramped up. We really weren’t a bad bunch. Almost everyone I knew here was down on their luck, whether poor, had an unexpected child, abused by their partners, etc. It was a unique atmosphere. Yes, we were a group of misfit girls that waited tables and danced on poles to keep our lives afloat, but there were strict no-touching rules enforced by big beefy men that lingered in the darkest corners of the room. Most of us were strong, independent women who just liked to dance. And hell if we weren’t awesome at it.

               My best friend, Rachel, came in five minutes before opening. I was just adjusting my black corset-style western costume as she dropped her stuff at the makeup table next to mine. I glanced up, flipping my hair over my shoulder and smiling at the lovely blond girl standing before me in tiny denim shorts and a plaid button-down shirt that was tied tightly around her boobs, revealing a flat toned tummy and a ton of double D cleavage.
               “Want to remind me who came up with the idea of western night?” I asked her, trying to figure out how I was going to keep my own cleavage inside my clothes while I moved around the bar.
               Rachel let out a loud snort and raised an eyebrow. Her makeup appeared to be complete already, flawlessly as usual, and she flopped a little cowgirl hat on her head. “You. Thanks for that by the way.”
               “It was just an idea. It’s not my fault that Jens liked it.”
               She snickered under her breath, making last minute adjustments in the mirror.
               “I got kicked out again tonight.” I didn’t know what made me admit it so willingly, but Rachel and I had never hidden anything from each other, I wasn’t about to start now. Deep down, I think I was hoping that she would be able to help me, but in all actuality, I didn’t know much about her current living situations. We almost always met out somewhere when we did hang out.
               “Shit Neva! What did you do this time?”
               “Hey!” I exclaimed, flipping her the bird. I scrunched up my hair, finger combing it as we made our way upstairs. “I didn’t do anything until he actually came by and kicked me out. Sure, I offered him a blow job, but it was a last ditch effort. I was a couple months behind again.”
               Rachel sighed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it. I know things are hard with Miley and trying to make your own life work too.”
               I tugged on my hair, hoping the sharp sting in my scalp would help to keep me sane. The dim lights of the bar and club caused tingles to shoot up my arms and I smiled.
               “It’s fine. It’s life, right? You ready for this?” I asked, eagerly looking at my friend. She grinned. I would be the first to admit it; the atmosphere of Petrichor never failed to get me excited. In here, we were at the top. In here, we were powerful women. And here again tonight, we were the predators.
               “Let’s do it.”