Teaser Tuesday 6

This is another excerpt from Mitch's story (the novel I'm currently revising). Sorry it's late. I had a hard time getting started today.

She cranked the key again, listening to the click-click of the starter not engaging. “Piece of crap,” she muttered.
Suddenly, the windshield spider-webbed inches from her face. She jerked back, cracking her head against the rear window. Her heart pounded, and she fought back a scream as the end of a tire iron came through the windshield.

Her father’s face contorted. She couldn’t tell if it was a snarl or a smile, but she could tell he wasn’t about to let her sit safely in her truck until it started.

“Fuck,” she muttered. The iron hit the window again, and she clambered over the gear shift to the passenger door.

As he reared back to cave the rest of the windshield in, Mitch shoved the passenger door open and leapt out. 

She ran. She’d never admitted it to anyone, but her father was why she ran every day. Just in case she ever needed to get away.

She ran harder than she ever had before, hoping to make it down the driveway, out to the road where hopefully someone would stop. 

Instead, she made it three steps from her truck before something crashed into her back, knocking her down.


Teaser Tuesday 5

I'm taking a break from the rough draft I've been teasing you with, so today's teaser will be from the book I'm currently revising. For clarity, "Mitch" is a nickname for Michelle. This is from the beginning of the book.

“Why should I be interested in talking to you?” Pushing her hair out of her face, she though for a second about asking his name. But she didn’t. She didn’t need or desire to be friends with anyone else in this school. Or even this town.

“Because you don’t know me.” He dropped the history book at his feet and cursed as he shuffled things around in his locker.

Mitch bit back a smile. “If I did know you, would I be interested in talking to you?”

“I suppose it’s possible,” he muttered then crouched down to rifle through the papers in the bottom of the locker. 

For some reason, she found him amusing. “But is it likely?”

He grabbed an orange folder and threw it on the floor with the book. Then he stood and used his foot to shove the pile of papers back so he could close the locker. “Sure. Everyone likes me,” he said as he turned toward her.

“I’m sure it’s because you’re so modest. Right?”

“Yeah, it’s either that or I’m so damn good-looking people just want to be near me.” He grinned, and Mitch found herself grinning back.

“Or your organizational skills?”

He smirked at her. “That could be it, but I doubt it.”