Hello Wipsters! Officially I’m supposed to be taking a break until the kids are back at school, but my fingers are restless and twitching. At the moment I’m back with good old VAMPIRES and have promised to do a little project for someone, but I’m not exactly sure where I’m going with this at the moment… so all that you see here is more than likely to change, which is why I don’t mind showing you my draft cover and first three hundred words or so 🙂
The shrill siren of his alarm clock would not go away. No matter how many times he had slammed his hand down upon the shut off button, the sound refused to stop. It was slowly driving him insane. When he finally raised his head out of the comforting confines of his duvet, to stare groggily at the offending timepiece, it was to find that he hadn’t even set the damn thing. It was the telephone that was ringing off the hook.
Looking at his watch, the neon dials glowing brightly in the black void that his bedroom had become, he swore. It was six pm. No one that knew him would ring before eight, and if this was an insurance salesman, God help the man on the other end of the line. Clearing his throat and swallowing down the taste of vodka that had managed to cling to his tongue, even though he had given up drinking at least twelve hours ago, he picked up the receiver.
“Evening M. We have an assignment for you.”
The voice on the other end of the line appeared completely undaunted by his less than cheery greeting.
“Can’t do it. I’m under the influence and off field duty for the foreseeable future. The fuckwits at HQ should have told you. I’m grieving.” His voice was a growl of menace and anyone with half a brain cell would have hung up the phone by now and left him to his own devices.
“You have to do it. There’s no one else left.” The man on the other end of the phone sighed, obviously not relishing the battle he knew was about to commence.
“I’m not doing it. My family’s been killed, I’m fucking suicidal and the chances are that I’ll get whoever it is that you want me to rescue killed along with myself. Whoever it is, they’ll stand a better chance at living without me in the equation.” His voice was clipped and he pulled the receiver away from his eardrum in order to slam it back down on the bedside table.
“I doubt it. They’re about to bury her ten-foot underground and then encase her in concrete.”
Even though the phone was at least a foot away from his ear by that point, he still heard Henton’s voice, and as much as he wished he’d turned the phone off before he’d heard that little gem, it was with a shaking hand that he brought the receiver back up to his ear. Taking a deep breath, he sighed and said, “Who?”
“The Ruben brothers.”
And there you have it. I may well bin the lot. Still playing around with ideas and if you have any ideas or comments, I’d love to hear ’em 🙂
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