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Bikinis & Bloodshed Chapter 1 is now available!

June 24, 2017

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Feedback Friday gets a little bit *possessive*...

July 28, 2017

‘Possession’ is such a strong word, I thought. This is more like borrowing her body. After all, at the end of the day, I get zipped through oblivion back to this hellhole. There’s nothing wrong with hitching a ride out of here for just a few hours....

Happy Friday! I thought I'd share another excerpt from one of my WIP's this week to see what y'all think. Help me choose which projects to keep working on--if you enjoy the scene below, let me know and I'll consider writing the full novel!

Just a little bit of background on this one. The working title for this novel is Whiskey Valentine. It's a paranormal mystery I started working on last year featuring the ghost of an exotic dancer (yes, a stripper!) who was murdered outside the club where she worked. The ghost of Hayley Jameson (whose stage name is, as you may have guessed, Whiskey Valentine) can only leave the club when she hitchhikes inside the bodies of people who pass through there. She's merely a shadow, a passive observer inside her host as he or she goes about his or her daily life. In this scene, however, as she shadows a journalist investigating her murder, a harrowing experience in a helicopter teaches Hayley that she has more control over her hosts than she originally thought.

Enjoy!

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Feedback Friday: Whiskey Valentine

*This scene includes some strong language.

The man clutched at his chest, a strangled cry escaping his throat. As I looked on through Regina's eyes, he slumped over in his seat. The helicopter lurched and pitched forward, picking up speed in its downward spiral. The cars on I-75 grew larger as the ground rushed toward us.


Regina shrieked. Her headset fell around her shoulders. “Mike!” she cried, lunging for the unconscious pilot. “Mike, wake up! Oh God, please wake up!”

Do something! I screamed from inside her head, but Regina couldn’t hear me. She continued to shake the man's shoulders with our shared hands. You’re going to die! I projected the thought as loudly as I could, trying once more to get through to her. And I’m going to die again, I realized. I didn’t know how to snap myself out of her body, which meant I’d feel every agonizing second of her death. What would happen to my soul if she died while I was still inside her body? I didn’t want to find out.

“Gina, what’s going on up there?” Jack’s voice crackled through the headset around her neck.

Regina snatched the headphones and jammed it back over her ears. “Something’s wrong with Mike,” she said, her voice frantic and trembling. “He just slumped over. Heart attack, I think. Jack, we’re going to crash."

“Holy shit.” I felt Jack’s shocked cry rumble through Regina's ears. “Shit! Shit! Shit!” His voice cut out for several moments and then boomed back through the speakers. “Can you reach Mike’s transmitter?” he asked. “You’ll have to radio the ground control. They can talk you through landing the chopper.”

I expected Regina’s lips to move, but nothing happened. She didn’t respond. Our shared vision blurred to shades of gray, and our surroundings began to fade. She’s fainting, I realized. Crap. If Regina lost consciousness too, there was no way she and Mike would survive. The helicopter was going to plummet onto Atlanta’s busiest interstate during rush hour. Hundreds of people were going to die.

And I was powerless to stop it.

“Regina, are you still there?” Jack called frantically through her headset. “Talk to me!”

I could barely feel the helicopter lurching downward as Regina’s vision faded to black. She was out cold, and I was paralyzed inside her body. I’m here! I thought, struggling to move as Jack called Regina’s name again. I’m…

“Here!” The word that burst forth from Regina’s lips, but she hadn’t spoken. I had. What the... My eyes—Regina’s eyes—fluttered open, and this time it was through my will, not hers.

I was in control.

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Want to know what happens next? Let me know if this book is worth pursuing, and I'll add it to my Works in Progress pile ;)

-Anne Marie

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© Anne Marie Stoddard 2017