Six Sentence Sunday

Welcome to “Six Sentence Sunday”. Thank you for visiting and especially for any comments you might feel inclined to offer.

Today’s six comes from a little novelette I’m writing as a companion to my debut novel, The P.U.R.E. This is the current opening of the story I’ve tentatively titled, Purely Relative. The six is mostly backstory, I must confess. I know, I know, starting with pure backstory is bad, but it’s just a draft for now and I thought it was kind of funny. May end up on the cutting room floor, so read it now or never.

Most people think meeting your boyfriend’s family is a hallmark event of commitment. I’d have rather been committed than go to the Cripps’ home for a home-cooked Thanksgiving meal. Oh, I loved a gluttonous Thanksgiving feast as much as anyone. That wasn’t the problem. Walking into his home and wondering how much Jon’s sister, Jenny shared about the night she sort of met me was what kept me on a steady diet of fingernails and the lining of my mouth. Catching me and her little brother buck naked, going at it in her guest bedroom probably wasn’t the best way to announce he’d traded his long time family friend and fiancée for some short blonde chick with a fat ass.

Now that sounds like a great way to make a first impression! Haha…poor Gayle.

Be sure to check out the host site, Six Sentence Sunday, for links to more tantalizing snippets from some very talented writers.

Welcome to “Six Sentence Sunday”. Thank you for visiting and especially for any comments you might feel inclined to offer.

This six comes from my story in Conquest Through Determination, a steampunk-themed anthology from Pill Hill Press. My story is called “Clockwork Nessie” and features a strong-minded young woman named Lizzy. She has just discovered her recently departed father left behind a secret science lab on Dog Island in Loch Ness. She and her servant, Robert, rowed out to the island to investigate and have just arrived at the hunting lodge, which appears to be deserted.

A large sign affixed to its door said, “Closed until September 1. Trespassers may be shot.”

“See, Miss. We’d best clear out lest someone make good on yon threat.”

“Oh posh. That’s to keep the riff-raff away, which is why it says ‘may be shot’.”