Wednesday, 12 October 2016

Wednesday Snippet - The problem was Dawn...

When I started work on BLOOD WITCH in 2014, I didn't really anticipate Dawn becoming a key character. Now I'm working on book three in the series, and not only is she definitely a key character, she's threatening to get her own spin-off. 

I mean...assuming she survives...




 
The problem was Dawn. At first she'd claimed she was staying for Lola's safety, to make sure the concussion wasn't severe. And once it was clear Lola would be fine, she claimed she was staying in case Yvette struck at them. When no attack came and Dawn still hadn't left, Lola realised she wasn't going to. Maybe she was too traumatised to go home, after she was attacked by a vampire there. Maybe she just didn't know what to with herself now she'd handed her notice into the police. Either way, Lola had found herself with a lodger.

Except she didn't so much lodge in the cottage as haunt it. During the day she drifted around, settling nowhere, doing noing. Sunglasses on, a giant mug of coffee constantly clasped in her hands. At night she sat on the sofa and watched TV with a thoughtless focus. News channels mostly, but occasionally Lola came down in the morning to find her staring at static, sipping coffee and picking listlessly at cold popcorn.

Dawn was broken. Her presence made Lola desperate and claustrophobic, but her situation was heart-wrenching and Lola felt powerless to say anything about it, to make her leave so Lola could start on her demented rescue plan. Dawn had nobody. Nobody to help her through her trauma, nobody who could even explain it to her. Her future was dark and unclear, and Lola couldn't help, except by pretending Dawn was still there for her benefit.

But it had been two weeks, three days, and eight hours since the hounds took Tristesse and with Dawn clinging to her like a caffeinated limpet, Lola felt like she was breaking too. She needed to try. Even if she failed, even if it was impossible, she had to try. Had to try everything, starting with the one thing she was sure Tristesse had wanted her to try. Bleed Isaiah. Open the gate.

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