Challenge! It's contest time again!

RJ Garside

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Jul 14, 2014
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Hello!

It's time for another contest. :)

Post a snippet showing some sassy dialogue banter. This can include up to 10 lines (not 10 sentences) from your current work-in-progress for a chance to win a $20 coupon on an upcoming SavvyAuthors workshop.

Contest will remain open until Sunday October 27 at 11:59 p.m. EST. Members will vote on their favorite entry.

Please email us if you have any questions.

Thanks!

RJ
 
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From my current WIP IN the Forest of Eternal Darkness

I ignored his well-intended gesture. “We may not play for the same team, but I still don’t condone unsanctioned murder. No matter what you think of me and my kind.”

His lips lifted in a half-ass smirk which did naughty things to my nether regions. Naughty things I wanted to ignore. “I think you reside in one of the most feared courts in the faery realm and have become very comfortable with death.”

His words were like a dagger to my heart. Sharp, pointed, and meant to inflict pain.

I reached for my blade. “I might have to reconsider my unsanctioned murder rule.”

“No need to get angry, princess. I come in peace.” He raised his hands, palms out.

The twinkle in those sun-colored eyes melted a bit of the ice that encased my heart.

“And you might leave here in pieces.”
 
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From my current WIP: HOUSE OF FANGS

I covered my face with my hands. “You know what?” I proposed. “Maybe I’ll just live in my room for the rest of my life like a hermit. Actually, I think that sounds wonderful.”

“Did you make a friend at school, today?” Mom asked. When I said nothing, she doubled-down and asked in a stunned tone, “Are you seeing a boy?”

“What?” I stuttered. “No! I’m not seeing a boy!”

“That’s okay, if you are,” she assured me, placing her palm on my knee. “Oh, honey, I’m so happy for you. Your first love!”

I made a gagging noise and leapt to my feet. “Ew. Ew. Ew.” I cringed, twisting away from them. “I am not seeing a boy and there definitely is no love.”

Ollie lowered his hands enough to peek at me. “I have to admit, there was a spark in the air.”
 
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John Runningwolf in human form, barefoot and shirtless, snarled at her nearly as much as he had in his badger form. Claw slashes, deep bruises, and blood smears covered his entire body.

Liliana gave a wan smile. “You did defeat the bear-kin.”

“I hate you.”

Liliana shrugged. That was understandable. “I said you could win in badger form, not that it would be easy.”

“You said you would help.” John Runningwolf leaned against a tree and sank to the ground as if his legs wouldn't hold him up anymore.

Liliana pointed at the webbing and net that held the bear-kin helpless.

“Is this some kind of revenge for holding a gun on you at the pride-king challenge?”

Liliana sat down next to him. If nothing else, he was too tired to be bothered with attacking her now. “All my friends tried to kill me at least once before we became friends."

(Excerpt from Obsidian Prince, now on pre-order on Amazon. Out Nov 12.)
 
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From my WIP THRILL ME by Blake Oliver

“Yes, I am now living in central California. No, Taylor Swift and I did not have a love child. Yes, I am starting a dude ranch in a couple of weeks.”

I leaned in, a visual caught on more than one phone. “Rigo, don’t do this. You don’t owe them anything.”

The assholes were sucking up our euphoria from the jump like the succubi they were.

Rigo kept going. “No, I did not accept a payoff to throw the bullfight. And no, I am not investing in a brand of cognac, or fronting a brand of boots, or running for United States Senate.” He cracked a smile so small that only I caught it.

The phones pointed at me. “¿Noah! "¿Eres homosexual? ¿Are you gay?”

As if I could be anything else. Still pissed as hell, I cocked a hip. “We’ve already established that.”

“Is that your natural hair color?”

I rolled my eyes. But in for a penny, in for a pound. If we to be all over the internet, might as well make it go viral. "I’ll never tell. And I did not have a love child with Tay Tay, either.”
 
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From my WIP The Time Rip Chronicle (book 6 in The Tarot Legacies)

“What kind of whiskey is that?” Vesta asked.

“Old Crow,” he said before throwing back the shot.

Vesta wrinkled her nose.

“Alcohol all tastes the same after a while.” He motioned to Isaac for another. “Good memories of drinking this on some raucous nights with Ulysses.”

“Ulysses?” Vesta arched her eyebrow. “Like from the Odyssey, Ulysses?”

“Fictional character from that bore Homer? No, I’m referring to the former president of the United States. That man won his war while pickled like a cucumber.”

“The Civil War?”

“I believe that’s what you called it. But is any war ever civil? None that I’ve ever witnessed,” he said.
 
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From my WIP Montana Groom

She turned to walk away and heard the creak of leather as Dean dismounted his horse.

"If it's all the same to you, I'll wait here a spell for him." Noreen caught Kathleen's eyes and saw the woman's hesitation in leaving.

"I'll see you soon, Kathleen," Noreen said. After a few seconds, Kathleen pulled away from the house and headed down the road toward town. Noreen watched her before turning to walk into the house.

"Aren't you going to invite me in?" Dean's voice asked.

"You can stand there until hell freezes over for all I care but if you think for one second I'll let you inside my house while no one is around you're insane."

"You know me better than that, Noreen," Dean responded and to Noreen's ear sounded genuinely insulted.

"I know you want this land more than anything. I know you're a schemer and I know that you might not force yourself on me but you'd make a hell of a show of trying, timed just right for my finance to find me and bail leaving me with you as my only option."
 
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Hello!

It's time for another contest. :)

Post a snippet showing some sassy dialogue banter. This can include up to 10 lines (not 10 sentences) from your current work-in-progress for a chance to win a $20 coupon on an upcoming SavvyAuthors workshop.

Contest will remain open until Sunday October 27 at 11:59 p.m. EST. Members will vote on their favorite entry.

Please email us if you have any questions.

Thanks!

RJ
 
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Reactions: 1 user
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“If you step on a copperhead, I’m not sucking out the poison,” Lucille said petulantly, as she stared at him from beneath a fringe of bleached white bangs. She scraped a metal nail file back and forth over her jagged thumbnail and added, “You’re on your own.”

Ernest grumbled under his breath. He pulled an orange mesh bag out from behind the bucket seat of the rusty old pickup. It was trash picking day. Nothing would ruin his mood.

“You should be so lucky, missy,” he groused. “I’m sticking around forever just to piss you off.”
 
  • Funny
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Frm my WIP, UNION GIRLS, a Civil War historical:

“President Lincoln is making changes,” Sophia said.

“With laws and proclamations?” Lukas shoved a walnut-sized wad of chewing tobacco into his cheek. “Slavery done ended in Mass’chusetts in 1783, yet coloreds still ain’t equal here. Mr. Thoreau got it right when he said, Things do not change unless we change, or somethin’ like that. White men gotta change in their hearts b’fore there’s equality for you’n’me.” Lukas looked at Sophia.

“Men need to change in their hearts about women too,” I said.

“Huh?” Lukas said, before delivering a glob of tobacco juice onto the sandy road bed.

“Women deserve equality, a chance to do anything men do," I said, sidestepping Lukas's deposit.

Lukas giggled. “I’d be right pleased to let women chop my firewood and muck my stalls.”

“They already do,” Sophia said. “Down South, where slavery isn’t over.”
 
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From Silver and Smoke, my steampunk novel.

"Emberlynn, you are so delectable," Karolek said, leaning in to kiss her full soft lips. The moment he connected for a divine kiss the whole scene turned ugly. She slapped him so hard that he saw stars, and the universe imploded upon him.

"How dare you say my name in such a dream!" A woman's shrill voice pulled him awake.

"What did I do now?” he said. Karolek sat up straight in bed and looked into the face of the woman from his dream. Gone was all the pleasant tenderness they had shared.

“It was so easy to figure out what you were dreaming about." She bristled at him. "We were never lovers. Do you even remember who I am?"

"I'm having trouble remembering my name, so please forgive that I can't recall yours." Karolek sat up and put his head between his hands.

"You said it in your sleep," she said.

"Ah, Emberlynn—how could I ever forget?"

"You allow that you were having an untoward dream about me."

"Madame, if every man were slapped because of an improper dream he had about a comely woman of his acquaintance, then all men would venture forth into the world each day with feminine handprints permanently imprinted upon their faces."
 
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Get Connected Games GIF by Connect Transit


Hello!

It's time for another contest. :)

Post a snippet showing some sassy dialogue banter. This can include up to 10 lines (not 10 sentences) from your current work-in-progress for a chance to win a $20 coupon on an upcoming SavvyAuthors workshop.

Contest will remain open until Sunday October 27 at 11:59 p.m. EST. Members will vote on their favorite entry.

Please email us if you have any questions.

Thanks!

RJ
 
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Reactions: 1 user
Upvote 0
He shifted the monkey to his shoulder. “Pleased to meet you. This is Chin-chin the Capuchin. And I’m the one, the only, Terry Bulkhead.”
Nikki’s eyes went a little crossed. “You’re the only Terrible Kid?”
“Beg pardon?”
“You said you were the only Terrible Kid.”
He shook his head. “No, I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did.”
“No, I said my name was Terry. Terry Bulkhead.”
“Oh.” She nodded. “What’s a bulkhead?”
I knew the answer to that one. “I think it’s like a fathead, but bulkier.”
 
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(From my WIP):

Miguel inquired about my hobbies as the art gallery filled, and I mentioned the swimming group.

“Can I join?” he asked. “I need friends here outside of toddler moms, who are the most vicious people I’ve ever met. Take a snack from your diaper bag that isn’t organic and gluten-free and watch them attack. Rottweilers.”

I laughed. “To join, you need to have a tragedy.” This was the group initiation.

“As if anyone has a tragedy in this zip code!” he said. “Poor me. I have to spend another week in seaside heaven eating clams and swanning around in white linen…’”

True. The Tragic Wives name was only partly ironic.

Miguel pointed to a sculpture nearby. “What do you think it is?”

“Ahh, an homage to the old Race Point Lighthouse?”

“A lighthouse?’ He elbowed me with a wicked grin. “If so, it’s very well-endowed.”
 
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From my current work in progress, Archmage Heretic:

“What?” Fatigue made the word come out irritable and short.

Beatrice shifted again and now Anryn heard the little clink of her lucky coins clicking together. “Nothing.”

“Tell me now and not tomorrow when you huff your way through packing.”

“I did not huff,” Beatrice said. The clink-clink of the coins grew louder. “Tommasi farts. Maelor creaks like a bad saddle. I am not the loudest person in that room, Anryn. If I were, perhaps you would listen to me.”

“Don’t tell me you’re mad about the damn mage. Any slaver I catch in Ammar can rot in Hell one-handed. You weren’t raised here — you don’t understand our laws.”

“Don’t talk down to me,” Beatrice snapped. “I can repeat all your laws backward and forward — I studied them to marry you, remember? Would you like me to recite the ones your father wrote about burning witches?”
 
  • Surprised
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“Is this a setup?” he rasps in a whisper.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You don’t? You don’t know anything. Who put you on to me?”

I’m confused. I don’t know what’s going on. “I know you from the squash club. I was a bit tardy about arranging for someone to accompany me to this wedding, and I happened to run into you when I was buying food. You know that yourself.”

“Are you saying that no one told you to invite me? I mean after all, we are almost strangers except for the fact that we meet at the squash club.”

“I have no idea what you’re going on about. It is as I described it. I have no alternative motive, no subliminal scheme that I am aware of.”

“Where a scheming bitch like Juliette Young is involved, I find that hard to believe.”

“I am here as a friend of the groom. We have been friends since we were kids. I met Juliette for the first time at their engagement party.”
 
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From my upcoming release, “Dark Magick”

She was as anxious as a wet cat, unprepared for being in close confines with him. She stole quick glances at his big hands on the steering wheel and at his profile as they rolled along. Her gaze traveled lower to his powerful, muscled thighs clad in blue jeans, which she had also chosen to wear for the trip. She needed a distraction.
“Can we please have music?”
“Sure. Classic rock, ok?”
“Of course.”
He touched the bright screen and the Jeep vibrated with the bass of the music. It was the middle of a guitar solo, and she identified the song right away as one from the rock group Van Halen. Her breath caught as Jason flashed her a smile. “Ah. One of our favorites. I introduced you to classic rock when you were younger, and I always wondered if it stuck. You haven’t changed that much, Panda.”
Her tone was deliberately snippy. “I’ve changed in ways you can’t even imagine.”
“And, how do you know what I imagine?”
She stared at his profile for a few moments. “I don’t need to know your thoughts, Jason, and you don’t need to know mine. We’re not friends.”
“But you concede we’re not enemies anymore?”
She huffed loudly. “We’re just partners in this plan you cooked up.” Change of subject, quickly.

~From the desk of Tamela, 2024
 
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From my work in progress, A TIME FOR DECEPTION (Book 2 in my mystery series) featuring private detective Emma Whitley and Catholic priest Father Sean Reardon:

“What do you do in your off time?” Emma asked.

Father Reardon scratched the back of his neck. “Well, there’s not much ‘off time’ really. But, I go to the gym. Hang out with my family. Or with friends. That’s about all I have time for.”

“That’s great that you’re still able to be close with your family and have friendships.”

Father Reardon narrowed his eyes at her as they walked. “I kind of feel like you think I’m a cross between a Jedi and a monk.”

“I mean, you do have robes . . .”

He chuckled. “Well, you know, you’re not wrong.”

“I’m sure you have a perfectly normal life apart from forgiving people’s sins and turning wine into blood."
 
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