New Story?

 It's been a long time since I've started a new story. In the past few weeks, I've started 2. There is no plot yet. I had the start but I have no idea where they're going. Both are paranormal/suspense. Neither is romance. I've done this same thing with my previously released, Kidnapped. It all started with a sentence. 

Well wasn’t this a fine predicament she’d gotten herself into now, and won’t dear old daddy be thrilled when he finds out his only child was being held captive by a bunch of thugs.  

Unfortunately, my publisher at the time didn't like the beginning and made me change it to...

Her head throbbed with the mother of all headaches. And who wouldn’t have a headache after listening to the incessant nattering of the two most boring people in the world.

The original version was a comedy, but again my publisher thought it would sell better as a serious story. sighhhhh.

My stories tend to start with a line or nightmare and blossom from there. I have a vague idea from one,  I'll share the start of both and you can tell me what you think. Kepp in mind this is a rough draft and not edited.

1st Story: Lightning lit the dark room with a blinding flash. Seconds later, the thunder cracked. Though it startled her, Olive knew not to make a sound. He would find her.

“You don’t have to make this any harder than it needs to be.”

He sounded close. The lightning flashed again only this time the thunder snapped loud enough to shake the house. This time she screamed.

He burst through the door, gun in his hand. “Just let it happen.”

She grabbed a lamp and cracked it on his head. He fell on the floor, and she took the opportunity to run.

“Why did you do that, Olive. This could’ve gone so smoothly, but now you had to play dirty.”

Her bare feet slapped on the hard wooden stairs and she ran down. She ran for the door, only to find it locked. Where were the police? It seems like hours since she'd called.

“You can’t leave without this.” Standing at the top of the stairs, Darryl waved the remote key fob in the air. “As long as I have this, you’re going nowhere.”

As he started down the stairs, she ran through the living room, into the kitchen and tried the back door. It too was locked. Her heart beat so fast she thought she might pass out. Maybe that was for the best. She’d just blank out and let him kill her. She heard him coming and adrenaline kicked in. She ran for the basement stairs, closing and locking the door behind her. She stood against the door, panting. She screamed when he banged on the door.

 

“Just leave me alone. I’ll give you a divorce.”

He banged on the door again and again she screamed.

“I don’t just want a divorce, dear Olive, I want your money.”

This time when he banged on the door, she felt it give and it sent her tumbling down the stairs.

“Just stay there. It’ll all be over in a second.”

Her ankle broken, she cried out when she stood up. Biting back the pain, she hobbled to the laundry room. She dragged a chair over and shoved it under the door knob. Seeing the window, Olive suddenly realized she needed It to climb up to the window. She could hear him coming. Hoping on one foot, she grabbed the chair and hopped back to the window. She knew this was going to hurt, but she had no other choice. She used the knee of her broken foot to help herself up onto the chair. She slid the window open and hoisted herself up. She was almost out when she heard the sirens wailing in the distance.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

She screamed both in fear and in pain when he grabbed her broken ankle. Using her good foot, she kicked him in the face. Pulling herself out, she crawled on the grass, tears soaking her face and blurring her eyes. She stood up on her good foot and began to hop away.

“It’s pointless.”

She felt something hot rip into her chest and as she fell to the ground, she heard the police car pull up the driveway. Her head felt fuzzy and her chest burned.

“Drop the weapon!”

“It’s okay, officers.”

“Drop the weapon!”

She heard another shot and saw her husband fall down beside her. Blood seeped from a hole on his forehead.

As her vision began to blur and the ringing in her ears grew quiet, she knew she was dead.

2nd story: She walked into the room, clicked the bedside table on and began to undress. She tossed her scrubs and underwear into the laundry hamper then grabbed a long t-shirt from her dresser and put it on.

It had been a hellish evening in the ER. Too many people needing help and not enough dr's to help. And who gets the brunt of the anger from sick? Nurses! Her head was still ringing from all the noise.

She pulled the cover back then sat down on the bed and removed her socks. Setting her alarm, she clicked the light off and jumped when something touched her feet. She pulled her feet up to her chest and turned on the light.

What the hell?

Sucking in a deep breath, she eased her feet down and onto the floor. She screamed and bolted for the door when something grabbed her foot. She stood in the doorway, staring at her bed. 

"Who's there?" She waited. Nothing. "Don’t be stupid, Emily. I can't fit under the bed, how would someone fit under there?" Still, she stared at the bed. If not a person, then what?

Kneeling, she looked under the bed and let out a sigh of relief.  There was nothing. Flicking the light off, she walked to her bed. It occurred to her then that there might have been a mouse, or rat and had scampered away when she turned on the light. Great, just what she needed. She quickly climbed into bed, glanced around the room, and saw nothing.

Shaking her head, she turned off the light and pulled up the covers. She’d deal with the rodent tomorrow. She was too tired to search her house right now. Rolling over she closed her eyes and drifted off.

*******************************************************

The incessant buzzing woke her up. She rolled over, shut the alarm off, and contemplated catching another hour of sleep. Then she remembered the mouse and sat up. 

She’d search for the damn thing after breakfast. She stood, slid her feet into her fuzzy ducky slippers, and headed downstairs. As she took the last step the picture on the wall crushed down onto the wooden steps. 

“Seriously?” She picked up the picture of her parents and saw the glass had cracked. One more thing to do today.

Her slippers hissed as she walked along the wooded floor on her way to the kitchen.  She needed coffee.

Yawning, she took a coffee pod from the cupboard over the stove, lifted the lid, and popped it in. She closed the lid and grabbed a cup from the shelf beside her. Setting it on the platform, she pressed start, then turned to grab a bowl and cereal. As she put both on the island, the box slipped from her grasp. Foolishly, she tried to catch it and dropped the bowl on the floor.

“Fuck!”

All around her were breakfast flakes and glass.

Letting out an exasperating sigh, she walked around the mess to the broom closet. She screamed and jumped back when a ragged figure lunged at her. It opened its mouth and screamed with a deafening sound. She slammed the door. Her entire body shook.

“What the fuck!mWhat the fuck! What the fuck!”

Frozen to the spot, she stared at the door. When her cell phone rang, she jumped and again let out a scream. Taking a few deep breaths, she turned to the island and saw it was her sister, Jane. “Hehello,” she stammered.

“Did I get you out of bed?”

“What? Oh,no, no.”

“Are you okay?”

Giving her head a shake, she responded. “Yeah, I just dropped my cereal and bowl onto the floor.”

 Her eyes drifted back to the door.

“I thought I’d phone and make sure you’re still coming on Saturday.”

“Saturday?”

“Seriously, Anne? You forgot?”

Saturday. Saturday. Right. “No, I didn’t forget. I’ll be there at 6.” It was her mother’s birthday supper. She had forgotten.

“Perfect! See you then.”

Anne set the phone down, still staring at the door.  Well, she couldn’t stare at the door all day. She needed to clean up the mess. Closing her eyes, she drew in a deep breath and exhaled as she walked to the door. Her hand shaky, she whispered to herself, “There’s nothing there.” Grabbing the doorknob, she yanked it open and when the mop fell toward her she screamed again.

“Oh fuck!” A mop. A stupid mop.

So what do you think?