The Worlds of Terri Pray

The highs and lows of chasing a writing dream. From fantasy to erotica and beyond as seen through the eyes of Terri Pray.

Name:
Location: Minnesota, United States

I'm a wife, mother, author, chat site owner and rpger. That's only scratching the surface though, I doubt any person can be described in a few short sentances. I write for Final Sword Productions, Loose-ID, Magic Carpet Books, Chippewa Publishing and Under the Moon, an imprint of Final Sword.

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Starfire - WIP

Hoping to get this finished - first draft anyway- by the end of the week.
I entered a first paragraph competition, but I'm hosed on that as my first paragraph is only one line!

Oh well, just for fun, here's the first couple of paragraphs.

“You arrogant son of a bitch!”

Fenris stepped out of the way of the oncoming plate with an exaggerated ease, and set his cup of coffee to one side before he turned to face the oncoming storm packaged in the body of a slender, blonde woman.

“Shit!” The two other crew members in the mess room ducked under the plasti-coated table. The plate didn’t shatter, nor did the next two that missed their mark.

“Stand still so I can hit you!” A cup hit the wall behind him, avoided as easily as the plate had been.

“No,” he spared a glance for the two beneath the table and flashed a smile at the crew members. For now they were safe, as long as the woman didn’t try to actively include them in the fight. With the way Serene acted their safety might come to an end any minute now. “Was there something wrong with having this discussion in private?”

“I tried. You’ve been avoiding me for the last three days!” Serene reached for the edge of a table, yanking on it for a moment before she flushed. “How the hell am I supposed to be able to talk to you if you’re never fucking there? Or worse! That stupid do not disturb lock on the door. That was fooling no one. Who were you with? Who was she? Half the fucking crew if I know you!”

“Yes, they’re still bolted down.” He rubbed at a spot on his white shirt, watching her through half lowered lids. If his attitude pissed her off, then so be it, she deserved it with what she was pulling now. “Standard operating procedure, remember?” All right, so maybe that hadn’t been the wisest thing to say. “And I wasn’t avoiding you, this time. It might have escaped your attention, but we were threading through the belt. We have two, count it, two pilots capable of that maneuver, and even I need sleep on occasions.”

“I tried talking to you last week! Who was she? Tell me who you were screwing this time?”

“Now, that time I was avoiding you.” He glanced at the coffee and his mouth watered. Her timing sucked. “As for whom I’m screwing? No one.”

“You think I’m going to buy that?”

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