Since last we chatted, I’ve logged five chapters and then some on the rewrite of Wet Work. Now that’s more like it. Magic Meter looks like this:
The end is in sight. Another four chapters to go, and I’m eager to finish them, so let’s just get right to our snippet:
The cop cuffed her and led her back upstairs to a windowless interrogation room. The policewoman opened the door and stepped aside. The attorney, seated at one end of the small rectangular table, rose as Emily entered. He nodded at the cop, who shut the door, leaving them alone.
Emily got one look at the man and froze.
"Please sit," Dontur said.
She recognized him in an instant–tall, dark-haired, and gaunt, with wan, drawn features and a supremely confident air about him. He wore a black suit instead of a white tuxedo, but otherwise looked exactly the same as the last time she’d seen him, a Halloween night ten years past. "Dontur." As she spoke his name, her throat closed. "Hello, Eleanor." He stood with his arms at his sides, neither smiling nor offering to shake hands. "Long time."
A chill seized her. Emily glanced over her shoulder at the closed door, considering the wisdom of walking out. Or, more properly, of running out, of getting away as quickly as possible. But she had nowhere to go.
"Please sit," Dontur said.
No updates for Write Club.
Onward.
