jennickels | Entries tagged with 6 sentences

~*~Each Sunday, post six sentences from a writing project — published, in progress, for your cat — whatever.~*~

His father waited for him in the docking bay as they approached. Gil watched from the window while various assistants tried to get his attention with their reports. His father ignored them as if he found nothing more important than his returning son. At least Gil wanted to believe that, but the absolute blank stare on his face gave Gil pause. The trepidation grew as he disembarked and his father still showed no sign of emotion. He wasn’t sure why he expected anything more.

His eyes slide closed, and he has to force himself to stay awake. They'd offered him some full time hours at the restaurant for the week. Sixteen hour days plus the commute there, between jobs, and back home were going to kill him. It left him six and a half hours to shower, sleep and eat. And spend time with Octavia. In his life, there literally weren't enough hours in the day.

--From "Unbreak My Heart," a modern au The 100 fic

“What’s it like having a sister?”

“Like having the most obnoxious, spoiled kid you know live in the same quarters as you.”

Clarke thinks of this girl, Gracie, she knew in third grade. She was annoying and always chasing after Wells. “Sounds dreadful.”

“Only problem is, you love the kid so much, you not only put up with the behavior, but you find it endearing.”

--Dreadful indeed. From a The 100 fic I’m writing.

Take any six sentences for one of your current works in progress and post them.

(almost forgot)

"Are you going to tell me you're pregnant?" He's teasing, but the thought sends a shot of panic through his system. He bites his cheek. "Please tell me you're not pregnant."

"It's triplets. Bubba says we can get married at the biker hall, but I gotta shank a bitch to get in first."

-From a modern au The 100 fic where Bellamy and Octavia are trying to sort out their lives after their mom dies.

Take any six sentences for one of your current works in progress and post them.

Sometimes he just doesn’t know what to think of her. Two days ago, he watched her plunge a knife into someone’s neck. She didn’t do it all cold and emotionless. No, not Clarke Griffin. She hummed, showing the compassion of a lover as she killed a boy she didn’t even know to save him from a drawn-out painful death. In that moment, he’d seen someone completely different from the pretentious know-it-all getting in the way of his fun.

-From a The 100 fic I was working on last night–Bellamy thinking about Clarke as she mourns Wells’ death.

~*~Each Sunday, post six sentences from a writing project -- published, submitted, in progress, for your cat -- whatever.~*~

The anger finally bubbled over. He yanked the phone out of her hands, forcing her to look at him. "What, Carter? Did you expect me to wait around pining for you until you got bored or whatever it was that screwed up your marriage." He barely got the words out before he felt the sting of her hand connecting with his face. It hurt like a sonofabitch.

Current Mood: drunk

I'm not currently writing anything at the moment so here are sex sentences from a character bio for my newest book:

My name is Meriah D’vasia and this is not the life I wanted to live. I never wanted to be a mother to my little brother. Or the princess of a crazy king. Or fall in love with the one guy I can’t trust. And I certainly didn’t want to get involved in a war. But my mother used to say, “you can’t always have what you want.”

Don't have the meme line...something about posting 6 sentences from one of your finished stories or WIPs. I tend to post 6 lines from anything I'm working on.

(from untitled Sam/Jack story)
The beer had been warm, the peanuts stale and somehow Jack found himself standing in front of Sam Carter's house. He frowned up at the small, unassuming building tucked behind a row of hedges. How had he gotten here?

He went over the nights events in his head as a light rain began to spatter his face but it all seemed a bit of a blur. Or maybe that was the alcohol fuzzing his brain. Yeah, the alcohol.

(from untitled Cassie story)
"Jack says you're the smartest person alive."

She could feel Sam suppressing a laugh. "He did not."

Cassie nodded into the older woman's shoulder. "He said you're a genius that makes all the other egg-heads at the SGC look like nimrods."

"You shouldn't listen to things the colonel says."

(from untitled Sam/Jack story)
"Oh, my god, Sam," he whispered as he threw his arms around her. "We thought..." He didn't need to finish the sentence. As soon as she realized what Landry had been saying about their MIA status she knew what everyone had been thinking. They had been dead. At least in the minds of a lot of people.

(from untitled Jack/Daniel story)
He tossed the pencil on top of the mess with a sigh and leaned back in his chair. His hands came up to rub at his eyes, glasses pushed up his face. It must be late, he thought.

"What are you still doing here?"

Daniel spun to find Jack leaning against the door frame, his hands jammed into the pockets of his jeans. He wondered how long Jack had been standing there.

Current Mood: lonely

~*~Each Sunday, post six sentences from a writing project -- published, submitted, in progress, for your cat -- whatever.~*~

Finished:
(from Happiness Is a Lie)
"You have nothing to apologize for," Jack finally answered with a sigh. "You haven't done anything wrong."

Carter looked away. "We both know that's not true."

Jack swallowed hard. He was so used to playing their little game of denial that he didn't know what to say to her bold confession.

(from Boredom Buster of Galactic Proportions)
"Boring." Daniel glanced over at Vala who stood next to the DHD, her hands on her hips. "A snooze fest. A snore."

"You're being dramatic," Cam told her.

"Of course I am."

In Progress:
(from untitled Sam/Jack fic)
He was about to make a hasty retreat when Carter pulled the door fully open revealing her sleeping attire of flannel pants and tight fitting tank top. Jack told himself not to stare but he wasn't really listening to himself any more. Carter, for her part, didn't seem to notice his slack-jawed look. Or she chose to ignore it. Instead she motioned past her. "Would you like to come in, sir?"

(from untitled Cassie fic)
"So, you going to keep telling me nothing is wrong?"

Cassie looked up, confusion on her small face.

"I've never seen you pass up ice cream before.

Cassie sighed. "I guess... I'm just not hungry."

"Never thought I'd hear that either," she said with a chuckle.

(from untitled SG-1 fic)
Some kind of time dilation bomb. Sam shook her head at the mystery of it. She had spent the last week trying to undo the damage. She finally managed to free the ship from the dilation bubble but she was no closer to understanding how the device worked. The Alliance was long gone by the time they were free. As were the hyperdrive, shields and the Asgard weapons.

Current Mood: annoyed

~*~Each Sunday, post six sentences from a writing project -- published, submitted, in progress, for your cat -- whatever.~*~

Finished:
(from Making the Best of It)
She gave him a small smile. It was something, he guessed.

The door creaked on opening, one hinge snapping off. Jack let it drop with a thunk to the dirt floor. Carter watched with apprehension until Jack settled it against the wall and took his first look around the cabin. "Roomy."

In Progress:
(from No Apologies)
"Are you feeling any... strange sensations?" the older man asked, watching Jack closely.

"No, I feel fine," Jack repeated for the third time. Jacob narrowed his eyes. Jack cast a glance at each of the others seeing anticipation and wariness. "Why? What kind of sensations?"

Wow, just realized I haven't done a six sentences on Sunday since early July. I haven't done much writing so I just didn't feel like posting it with just one story. So this one will have everything I've published/worked on since in the last month.

~*~Each Sunday, post six sentences from a writing project -- published, submitted, in progress, for your cat -- whatever.~*~

Finished:
(from Deepest Desires)

Jack swallows hard. His shallow breathing is loud in his ears. In the mirror the reflected Carter slides off his jacket and begins to work at his shirt. The bizarreness of the situation makes his head spin but he can't seem to tear his eyes from them.

Jack very clearly sees Carter mouth, "I love you," and his heart stops. He can't move—can't breathe—as he watches his reflection sweep the woman into his arms and nuzzle her neck.

(from To Carry On)

"What purpose will it serve if you also do not survive this attack?"

"Jack, SG-3 is pinned down on the other ridge. We have to go help them."

"We must continue to fight." Teal'c rises. Daniel follows.

(from Seeing Past the Red)

Carter takes a deep breath. "Sir, what you did in the past... is in the past. That's not who you are; it's what you did."

"Is there really a difference?"

"I think so. In the time I've known you you've never done anything to hurt anyone if you could help it."

(from Don't Drink the Wine)

"That's what she said."

Sam busted out laughing again, Vala and Mitchell joining her after a few seconds. Even Teal'c chuckled. Daniel was sure of it. "How long have you been waiting to use that line?" Sam asked Mitchell.

(from There's a Reason)

"Oh boy, time to go."

"Remember this is why you continued General Hammond's ban on prank wars—there's always payback."

"Indeed."

"Yeah, but I'll be in Washington in the next few hours."

"I don't doubt Sam could pull something off before you leave. This is Sam Carter we're talking about."

"Awhile."

(from In the Dark)

"Carter? That was a joke. It was a line from some dumb TV show I watched last night."

"…"

"Carter? Come on, I'm sorry.

(from Because)

"I'm just saying, think of how you would feel if something happened and you never told him."

"Daniel-"

"Think about it."

"I already have... too many times."

"Then tell him. He needs to know and you need to say it."

(from Ashes of Tulsa--not published yet)

The wind suddenly shifts, a cool breeze blowing in from the north. Daniel shivers but then he feels the warming rays of the sun on his back. He cups a hand over his eyes and peers up at his first glimpse of blue sky in weeks. The air around them clears as the wind pushes the ash in the other direction. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, his face turned up to the sun.

Jack looks around with a huge grin plastered on his dirt streaked face.

(from Making the Best of It--not published yet)

She pulled a face then rolled her eyes. "There's only one bed."

Jack felt his own face flush. "You noticed that, too." He turned to stare at the crumbling chimney on the rear of the house. "Well, since I am a colonel..."

In Progress:
(from untitled Jack/Sam, Daniel/Vala fic)

Jack turned his glare at Teal'c saving Daniel from having to wipe the growing smirk from his face. Teal'c was quite observant.

"What he said."

After a moment Jack seemed to deflate. He sighed, turning his bottle around and around in his hands. "I really didn't think it would be this hard."

(from untitled Jack/Sam story)

Daniel sighs. "About Sam. And Pete. The wedding."

"What about it." Another gulp and the bottle is tossed into the pile next to his him, other empties rolling with a clinking sound under the chair and across the deck.

(from untitled apoca!fic)

"She is well, O'Neill."

"Well, she was last we saw her." Teal'c frowns at Daniel who quickly adds, "I mean we dropped her off just after we rescued her. They had some technical thing for her to look at."

"Who?"

"The Tok'ra," says a familiar voice from the doorway.

(from untitled teamy fic)

Jack clapped his hands and pointed at Sam. "I like her, she has good ideas." He pushed past Daniel into the hall and headed for his bedroom. "And she doesn't nag," he called from behind the door.

Daniel rubbed at his eyes. "You're not helping."

~*~Each Sunday, post six sentences from a writing project -- published, submitted, in progress, for your cat -- whatever.~*~

Finished:
(from Home She Came)

Russ sat up front, crisp and pressed in his best suit. A black suit. He hated it. There was only ever one reason to put it on. Right now he'd like to take it out to the woods and watch it burn. But instead he sat stoically, his mother at his side weeping softly.

(from Distraction From the Black)

"Coffee?" he asks, dumbly, and she nods—a look of relief on her face. After finally getting a couple sips he sets his mug down and watches his 2IC. "So, Carter, what brings ya round this early in the morning?"

She glances at her watch. "It's 10:30, sir."

"It's Sunday, Carter."

(from Camp Out)

She sees him shake his head—his silhouette just a shadow inside the tent. "Nothing. I just don't wanna scare you."

Sarah bristles. "I'm not scared."

"Uh huh."

He tosses the flashlight aside and squirms into his sleeping bag.

In Progress:
(untitled Russ/Clare drabble)

"It took me years to not jump at every backfiring car or bottle rocket going off."

"I know."

After a moment he lowered himself to the blanket next to her and sat quietly. She noticed he wasn't watching the show. "Are you still on the clock?"

"Once a cop, always a cop."

(untitled SG-1 prompt fic)

"Huh. That's got to be a pretty common way to build a house, though. Right? The Stargate on Earth was buried long before they discovered the Americas."

Daniel nodded. "It's interesting, though."

Current Mood: grumpy

~*~Each Sunday, post six sentences from a writing project -- published, submitted, in progress, for your cat -- whatever.~*~

Finished:
(from Distraction from the Dark--not published yet)

There are a lot of things that Jack O'Neill dreads: facing a platoon of heavily armed Jaffa after running out of ammunition, listening to pompous, over-dressed snakeheads blather on about how great they are; listening to pompous, over-dressed politicians blather on about how great they think they are. Long, boring meetings; mountains of paperwork; crappy movies; attempted alien incursions; dealing with brainiacs; warm beer... they all top his list.

But this day in late June, more than any other, keeps him in the dark. Metaphorically and physically. Jack rolls onto his stomach and covers his head with the pillow. He can't really breath that way but, at the moment, doesn't particularly care.

(from Downtime--not published yet)

The early morning sun begins to filter through the closed blinds giving the room a muted, surreal look. Cam blinks the sleep from his eyes, momentarily confused. Something isn't right. Around him the room is still and quiet. Too quiet. With a groan he pushes up to sitting, dangling his legs over the edge, and rubs at his face.

(from Home She Came--~~not published yet~~)

The Army has never been that great with paperwork. So it didn't particularly surprise Russ that the final word came so late. It took three week for them to get word to the next of kin. And the next of kin didn't think to inform her "family" for another two weeks.

St. Alban's Church was packed to the rafters—standing room only. They brought in extra seats and set them up with care in front of the very first pew and down the aisles, making sure to leave enough space to satisfy the Fire Chief.

(from Healthy Fear of the Dark)

"Carter, watch your hands."

"Sorry, sir; I can't see."

"Well, neither can I but you don't see me putting my hands-"

"I said I was sorry."

"I know, Carter. Hold on a second."

(from In the Light of Night)

The cave was cold and damp. Like just about every other cave Daniel found himself in over his lifetime. Which was a surprisingly high amount. Next to him Vala mumbled under her breath and pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her jacket around them. Her hair was plastered to her face, rain dripping from the tip of her nose onto her mud caked pants. She wiped absently at a strand of loose hair until Daniel reached over to push it behind her ear, startling her.

In Progress:
(from Camp Out)

Metal and fiberglass poles snap into place with a quiet clinking then slip through their sleeves whispering into the dusk. Sarah giggles from her spot on the lawn chair as she reaches high over her head.

"Hold it steady," Tucker grumbles. He's outside trying to get the poles to slip into their slots. It's not as easy as it looks. Or so he tells Sarah.

(from Another Day, Another Dollar (or not))

Another deal gone horribly awry, Mal thinks as he hunkers down behind an outcropping of rocks. Below him in the canyon the local law searches every house and crevice they can find. Too bad their lookin' on the wrong side of town. Up in the hills the folk are simpler, not too in love with the city dwellers who tend to look down their noses at anyone without shoes. Mal glances at his companion--a twenty-something kid in tattered coat and dirty feet. He smiles broadly, several teeth missing, and gestures with his head. Mal follows him away from the ridge back into the trees.

Current Mood: tired

~*~Each Sunday, post six sentences from a writing project -- published, submitted, in progress, for your cat -- whatever.~*~

In Progress:
("off the clock" story for

stargateland --missed the deadline)

"I was thinking burgers."

He opens one eye to watch as she twists the hem of her shirt and looks at him questioningly. "I could eat."

She smiles again—something Cam could get used to looking at—and jumps up. Reluctantly he gets up, moving stiffly after his run and the work on the car, and follows her inside the house. The kitchen is clean but disorganized.

(Daniel/Vala story)

"It means sex. S. E. X."

Mitchell cringed, his face flushing slightly. Sam snorted but said nothing.

(apocafic--probably going to rework this into a different story, though)

"There's a long silence after then the message repeats."

"A recording?"

"Sounds like it."

Jack wandered back to his corner, Davis on his heels. "What should we do?"

"Without communications..."

Current Mood: exhausted

~*~Each Sunday, post six sentences from a writing project -- published, submitted, in progress, for your cat -- whatever.~*~

Finished:
(from Just the Beginning):

He found it unnerved him more than a little to see her so unbalanced.

He picked up her satiny dress, letting the soft material slide through his fingers. He remembered the way she had shimmied out of it the night before... much to his delight. She gave him a half-hearted smile and shrug when she saw him staring at it.

Daniel sighed. "What's wrong?"

(from Jack the Spoil-sport)

Oh god, he's losing it, he thinks. He forces his mind back to the problem at hand. With every ounce of strength (and will power) he has he manages to get one of her arms clamped behind her back. They wrestle around until Jack finally pins her face down, his body straddling her legs and her wrist nearly pressed into her neck at a painful angle. The cry she emits isn't any kind of pain he's heard before. If anything she sounds like she's enjoying it.

(from In the Beginning)

She stood up, looking all around until she found the source. A little boy with messy brown hair and dirty clothes dropped down from a tree near by. She eyed him for a moment but he didn't look threatening. He looked her age so he couldn't be all that bad.

"I'm lost," she told him softly, feeling her cheeks grow red and more tears welling up in her eyes.

"No you're not."

Current Mood: groggy

~*~Each Sunday, post six sentences from a writing project -- published, submitted, in progress, for your cat -- whatever.~*~

Finished:
(from Of Mutant Squirrels and Humiliation)

They bolted from the undergrowth a few minutes later into blistering daylight. Momentarily blinded they both tripped and clattered to the ground with identical grunts. Cam used the moment to catch his breath and try to get his bearings. He wasn't even sure they were on the right side of the forest any more. Slowly he opened his eyes and looked around. They were in a clearing, trees surrounding them in a rough circle.

(from Daydreaming)

Sam's vibrating now, an intense sensation that she can't ignore or deny. He's doing this to her—with his gritty face and disheveled hair. And that smile, one corner of his mouth quirked up in question. He's right in front of her now and Sam couldn't move if she wanted to. His hand raises slowly, still allowing her to refuse his action. She tracks it as it moves to her face.

(from Talk of the Town)

She pulled her head out and looked up at him, squinting at the sun that glinted over his shoulder. "What about us?" She had that look in her eye. The one that said she thought she knew what they were not discussing.

Jack pulled his gaze away from her and stared at the barren horizon. This planet was desolate.

(from Living the Nightmare)

"How? What? Where?" Cassie knows her voice sounds absurdly small and she's really not sure what she wants to know and what is automatic questioning by a brain too far lost coherent thought.

Sam wipes at her own face and takes a deep breath. "She was off-world."

(from Walk of Shame)

"There's no god here, sister," said a surly voice. Sam glanced at the women sitting on an identical metal bench on the other side of the room. She was dressed in shorts and tank top that barely qualified as clothing. Sam had undergarments that covered more.

Sam closed her eyes, her head shaking in shame. How the hell did she end up in jail?

(from Save the Last Dance)

A flash of red caught his eye and he followed the dress up to the smiling, laughing face of Vala. She was currently spinning around the floor with a leering Marine. Major Miller. He was new—on SG-16 or something. Daniel was starting to lose track of the constant rotation of personnel lately. What had once been a pretty tight-knit family had loosened up lately with IOA interference.

(from Playing the Game: Rules are Meant to be Broken)

"There's always a few that don't adapt well to a regime change."

She snorted. "I'd hardly call it a regime change, sir."

"Going from a civilian command to military is a lot to take. Especially with a science expedition like this."

"It hasn't been that bad."

(from a Eureka badfic for a

scifiland challenge)

"Who are you?"

"I'm AVril Summer Raiyne and I'm the new boss."

"Hey, you can't just come in here and say you're the boss."

"Yes I can." Then this other lady comes in and acts like she's in charge even though she should know I am.

"Who died and made you god?" she asks.

In Progress:
(from prequel to Walk of Shame)

"So you speak from experience?"

Daniel glared at her. "I could help you come up with some excuse."

Sam faced him at the elevators. "Daniel, I'm not going to flake out on her now. I already agreed to go out."

Current Mood: irritated
Current Music: NASCAR

~*~Each Sunday, post six sentences from a writing project -- published, submitted, in progress, for your cat -- whatever.~*~

Finished:
(from original fic Sunset)

It's a nightly ritual she observes without fail, climbing to the roof of her house through an attic window. Rory doesn't understand. He's accused of her of being crazy in the past. Sarah wonders if he will finally give up on her and leave. She doesn't think it really makes a difference now.

The sun creeps down and the air shifts, pushing her greasy hair into her face. She didn't have time to shower after work tonight.

In Progress:
(from untitled SG-1--Jonas fic)

Kelowna was filled with squat square brick buildings. Only recently did they start building larger structures filled with windows and steel. Earth was just filled with amazing things to see. Jonas watched them pass in a blur as Daniel finally maneuvered through the clogged city streets and into a residential area. The taller commercial buildings of Colorado Springs gave way to manicured lawns and small rustic looking ranch houses or little bungalows with bay windows. They weren't all that different than the kind of homes Jonas knew on Kelowna.

(from original fic for NaNo 2009)

Page rubbed the bridge of his nose as the ship shuddered under him. "Can we jump to lightspeed?"

"Not in the planet's atmosphere. It could cause a climactic feedback in the engines and- "

Page waved him off. "If we could get out of the atmosphere could we engage the jumpers?"

Current Mood: bored

~*~Each Sunday, post six sentences from a writing project -- published, submitted, in progress, for your cat -- whatever.~*~

Finished:
(from Snippets of Millers Kill)

He rubs at his eyes, tears pressing out at the corners. He can't help but feel responsible for her death. But the more he thinks about it the angrier he gets. If she would have just listened to him instead of tearing off in a huff. It wasn't like he could have left Clare alone to deal with...

His thoughts break off.

(from So Wrong)

Daniel had given him a smug, knowing look as Janet dragged him to the infirmary for an ultrasound.

And now here he was lying in the infirmary with a sore abdomen, raging migraine and roiling stomach surrounded by brightly colored balloons and banners... all mocking him. He'd pop every single one of them if he could get out of bed.

"How are you feeling, Colonel?" Dr. Spitz—some guy from the Academy Jack had never heard of—wandered in, clipboard in hand.

"Just peachy."

(from No Time--finished but not published)

She shuttered visibly then turned to face him again; he let his hand fall back to the bed. "Sir?" she asked with obvious confusion.

"You think you could drop the 'sir'? Consider it a dying man's last wish."

That got her. She nearly choked at the words, taking great effort to swallow.

( more under the cut )

Current Mood: listless

~*~Each Sunday, post six sentences from a writing project -- published, submitted, in progress, for your cat -- whatever.~*~

Today I'm doing the first 6 sentences on page 2 of each story (just for the fun of it).

Finished:
(from So Wrong--finished but not published yet)

"I don't think Daniel wants to go." But the look on Daniel's face said otherwise. "Oh fine, whatever. Can we just get this done."

"At least you only have one in there," Daniel muttered.

"What was that?"

(from We're Going to Need a Bigger Nursery)

Jack was almost as shocked by the doc's revelation as by Carter's earlier announcement. "Oh? You two are..." He waved back and forth between them.

Daniel swallowed hard. "It was just that one time. After P3R-222."

(from Blame it on the Heat)

"Sir, what are you doing?"

"What?" Jack asked, confused. She gave him a questioning look, her eyes raking over his body. He glanced down at his bare chest. His socks and boots had joined his other things in a sweaty pile in the dirt. He dug his toes into the soft grass.

(from the Personal Journal of Daniel Jackson)

I don't like the way he looks at me or the predatory gleam in his eye when Sam is around. She doesn't see it. Kawalsky does. He just laughs, though. At least he's not openly hostile towards me.

I'm not sure what my time here will bring.

In Progress:
(from the almost finished Snippets of Millers Kill)

"Must have been a beautiful spot." She closes her eyes and tries to imagine the orchard in it's hayday, trees full and green, the smell of fruit wafting in the air.

"I used to sneak over here in high school. We'd all spread out in the orchard and play Blind Man's Bluff. Well," he pauses and grins crookedly, "a version of it anyway."

"Lots of alcohol?"

(unfinished story#5 of alt!reality series)

"Just look at him. He's a... geek. They are seriously lacking in social skills and-"

"Major-"

"Present company excluded," he added with a grin. Sam rolled her eyes which just seemed to encourage him further.

(unfinished Russ/Clare fic)

"She's gone into labor," Harlene blurted out, almost sounding relieved at finally giving her message.

"What! She's not due for another eight weeks." He mashed on the gas, using his elbow to press the window button down. Still holding the mic in his other hand he grabbed for the light and somehow managed to get it on top of the truck and turn it on without dropping his phone, the mic or swerving off the road. All those high speed driving courses paying off, he thought.

(unfinished NaNo novel)

Striker whirled on the man, his eyes flashing a brilliant white in anger. "Do as I say," he commanded with all the authority his resonating voice demanded.

Crisham quickly backed out of the room, barely contained terror on his face. "Yes, sir," he mumbled as he left, hurrying away to relay the orders.

Striker once again schooled his face, a rehearsed blank look replacing his momentary rage. He slowly turned back to the door, his hands once again held leisurely at his back.

Current Mood: lazy

Stealing this from

mizzy2k because it's a cool idea and I'm bored and getting nothing done today. So this is the gist:

~*~Each Sunday, post six sentences from a writing project -- published, submitted, in progress, for your cat -- whatever.~*~

I'm going to do the first 6 sentences in each of the stories I'm currently working on.

unfinished SG-1 novel:

The fire burned with a roaring intensity that could be felt even on the edge of the cliff some ten miles away. Striker watched from his invisble fortress, shielded from view by some alien technology pilfered on one of their first missions. He stood in a relaxed state, his hands held lightly behind his back as he watched his lab and the forest below burn.

A maniacal laughter fought to escape his lips but he pushed it down, keeping his features neutral no matter how much he enjoyed hte show internally. The wind shifted slightly, enough that the heat of the blaze warmed his skin. The crackle of burning landscape wafted in with the breeze punctuated by the report of gunfire and Death Gliders screeching after their targets.

unfinished story #5 of my alt!reality series:

"You what?" asked O'Neill and Kawalsky at the same time.

Sam sighed. "I want to bring Daniel onto the team."

"The sci-fi guy?"

"He's not just a writer. He has multiple degrees in archeology and anthro-"

unfinished Millers Kill Mystery (because Clare Fergusson/Russ Van Alstyne Mystery is way too freaking long to write all the time):

Russ pushed back in his seat, stretching his back. Every muscle felt tense, ready to snap. He hated missing person's cases. There was too much tension, too much apprehension and expectation. Like an emotional roller coaster for the families. Half the time the person turned up completely oblivious to the stress they caused.

Current Mood: bored
Current Music: Tru TV's World's Dumbest...

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- bellamy blake [16]
- cameron mitchell [1]
- clarke griffin [14]
- colette voltaire [1]
- daniel jackson [2]
- gilgamesh wulfenbach [9]
- hikaru hitachiin [1]
- jack o'neill [10]
- john murphy [2]
- junior (rvb) [1]
- katara [4]
- klaus wulfenbach [3]
- lavernius tucker [1]
- michael j caboose [2]
- sam carter [11]
- sg-1 team [1]
- tarvek sturmvoraus [7]
- teal'c [1]
- vala mal doran [2]
- violetta mondarev [1]
- wesley wyndam-pryce [1]
- zuko [4]
christmas [5]
cuddling [1]
death [3]
drabble [5]
family [10]
fanfic [339]
fic
- atla [5]
- buffy/angel [7]
- firefly/serenity [3]
- fruits basket [2]
- girl genius [25]
- millers kill mysteries [7]
- ohshc [2]
- original [40]
- red vs blue [16]
- sg-1 [81]
- sga [4]
- the 100 [101]
funny [2]
genre
- alternate reality [5]
- angst [9]
- baby!fic [2]
- bad!fic [2]
- drama [4]
- fluff [9]
- friendship/family [12]
- future!fic [3]
- holiday [4]
- humor [4]
- kid!fic [2]
- romance [22]
- ust [7]
halloween [6]
icons [26]
idea
- prompt [2]
kids [110]
life [115]
meme [48]
nanowrimo [1]
pairing
- bellamy/clarke [27]
- buffy/spike [1]
- carolina/wash [2]
- carolina/york [2]
- daniel/vala [4]
- jack/sam [20]
- sam/pete [1]
- zuko/katara [2]
picspam [9]
prompt fic [2]
prompt table [1]
rvb
- freelancers [5]
- reds & blues [1]
series
- zutara month 2022 [2]
snowflake challenge [10]
story
- attention to detail [6]
- force of nature [1]
- heaven can't wait [63]
- homecoming [4]
- uncalled for actions [16]
trope
- aliens made them do it [1]
- first kiss [3]
- stranded [1]
writing [171]

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six sentences on sunday

Six Sentences on Sunday

Six sentences on Sunday

Six sentences on Sunday

Six sentences on Sunday

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six sentences on Sunday

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