Camp NaNo Wrap-Up + Snippets

Hey guys! How was your April?

Regardless of what everyone keeps saying about quarantine dragging on and on, life is flying by as usual in my house! April was a blur—and the fact that NaNo happened didn't help that fact any. ;) If you participated in NaNo, how did you do??

My goal for the month was 30,000 words. (That's an average of 1,000 words a day, for those of you who are too exhausted to do the math.) I clocked out at 30,006 words for the month, though my progress meter looked like a two-year-old was trying to draw a straight line. But, progress is progress, right??

Right.

So, in addition to FINISHING Little Boy Blue (my baby is 53,653 words long! *cries*), which only took me to about 26,000 words for NaNo, I started the sequel, which shall remain unnamed and anonymous for now. (unnamed and anonymous . . . is that redundant?) Though before I get any further in said sequel, I definitely need to edit Little Boy Blue. (wouldn't it be awful to write the sequel, then go back and change the first book, then have to completely rewrite the sequel?!)

Anyway, all that said, I do have some juicy snippets for you, because some of you have been acting excited for my story. (I mean, yeah, all of you have, but Katja *squints*)

But, before I give you allllll da snippets, I actually created a mock cover and lil' baby synopsis!

Screams have a way of coming back to haunt you.

Micah Banner is being tormented for the crimes he only witnessed, and there's no way of escape. Forced to choose between his family and those who committed no wrong, his decision throws him into a whole new world. Thrust into circumstances far from familiar, he discovers what it is to actually live a life of love.

When tragedy strikes far too close to home, Micah must gather the courage to do what needs to be done—no matter the consequences.

*Crying for my Micah baby*

Okay, now you get some lil' snippets. *grins*

When they were so close that Micah could see the whites in her eyes, he swallowed hard. She did not look happy. Can they smell fear?

Shane held up a hand to stop him. “You distract the cow,” he commanded in a low whisper, “and I’ll tag the calf.”

Micah swallowed hard. “What if she chases me?”

“Then run.” Shane sounded exasperated, as if he didn’t think the answer needed said. “You don’t just let her run over you.”

“But—”

Shane sliced off his words with a motion of his hand. “Just shut up and do it. The whole point is for her to chase you instead of me, because you can actually run. It’ll be all I can do to get this calf on the ground long enough to tag it.”

Micah looked skeptically at Shane’s broad shoulders. “I doubt that.” The guy could bench press a Buick if he wanted to.

“All right, just keep an eye on her. If she starts to move or look towards me, wave your arms a little or shout or something. Just keep her distracted.”

“And why am I the one that has to be in the line of fire?”

“Couldn’t sleep either, huh?”

The voice that popped out at him from the darkness caused Micah to whirl and drop the glass. It shattered on the floor, making a crash loud enough to wake the dead. He winced. 

“Aw, man, seriously? I only have, like, two of those left now!”

Micah sighed, not in the mood to come up with some sort of smart-alecky quip with which to reply at the moment. “Sorry. I’ll clean it up, if you could just please turn the light on.”

He heard a shuffle, then the light flicked on to illuminate everything Micah hadn’t noticed before—now, in his exhausted mind, everything stood out: the dirty linoleum, lime green cabinet trim darkened with years’ worth of food grease, walls speckled with dust bunnies. “You never clean, do you?”

Shane looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “I sweep the floors when they need it.”

“Yeah, but, like, this place needs cleaned.”

“You’ve been here how long and just now noticed?”
Micah shook his head, running his hands through his unruly hair. “No, like, it’s bad. How come you never deep clean?”

Shane shrugged. “Never have time, can’t afford a cleaning lady, and Claire has made it clear that she’s not going to be my maid.”
Micah sighed and rubbed his eyes, exhausted yet clearly not going to be able to sleep anymore tonight. “All right, where do you keep your cleaning supplies?”

“You mean stuff like mops and disinfectant?” He pointed to a closet in the corner of the room. “In there. I think. You might have to move some stuff.”
As soon as Micah opened the closet door, he jumped out of the way to avoid the avalanche of random objects that came tumbling out. “You weren’t kidding when you said I’d have to move stuff.”

“Yeah, sorry. I can’t stand clutter, so that closet’s kinda my store-all when I don’t know where something goes.”

“A tidy bachelor. That’s quite something.”

Shane rolled his eyes. “There’s a lot of guys like me around.”

“Okay, now there’s a scary thought.”

“So, are you gonna tell me why you wrecked my house? ’Cause, I mean, I know it’s not the prettiest or fanciest house in the neighborhood, but at least until last night, it was still in one piece.”

Micah swallowed and pursed his lips before answering, choosing his words with great care. “I guess you could say that something snapped.”

Shane scoffed. “Several things snapped. Be more specific, pipsqueak.”

“Well . . . um . . . I was just thinking about everything that happened, and . . . I couldn’t handle it anymore.” Wow, he hated saying those words.

Shane nodded. “Now we’re getting somewhere. Go on.” Anger still burned in his eyes, but at least he wasn’t shouting anymore.

Shane was downright terrifying when he shouted.

Micah opened his mouth, but waited several moments until he finally answered. “I honestly don’t know what to say.”

“You broke, man.” Shane tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. “Just say it. You had a meltdown.”

“Well, I don’t know about that—”

“Yes, yes you do,” Shane interrupted. “C’mon, pretty boy. Admit it. You completely lost it.”

“Fine.” Micah's tone grew cold, and he slouched sullenly in the chair. “But I don’t see what difference it makes.”

“Wow, you really are dumb, aren’t you?” Shane tapped his forehead. “I thought you had a brain in there, Einstein!”

“Your mama never taught you how to cook, did she?” 

Micah raised an eyebrow. “You haven’t even tasted it yet.” Even if it does taste like charcoal and suck all the moisture out of your mouth.

“Okay, I’ll taste it, but that still won’t change what I said.” Shane sat back down, almost straddling the chair in his relaxed position, and cut into his steak. He examined the piece with squinted eyes, mouth screwed to the side in mock concentration. “Let’s see . . . telltale black scorch marks on the outside, thin and crispy, hard to stab a fork into, dulling the knife . . . what were you trying to do, prepare a sacrifice?”

Micah rolled his eyes. “Hey, you can’t fault a man for trying.”

“A man? Where?” Shane made a show of searching under the table. “I don’t see one.”

“Oh, yeah. You’re hilarious.”

“I like to think so.” Shane grinned, then popped his piece of steak into his mouth. “If I close my eyes and concentrate, it tastes like boot leather. Nice job.”

Yes, I promise, it's not 100% banter. But pretty close. And these were the scenes that I could find that didn't give away major spoilers. ;)

So, what do you think? Again, how did Camp NaNo go for you?? I'd love to hear about it! I'm horrible with interaction on my blog, I know, but I promise that I'll try my best to reply to your comments—so check back every once in awhile. ;)

What are you waiting for? Go write that novel that's been in the back of your mind for months! (that's what I did . . . )