Life After Excerpts
Excerpt 1:
Topher
Holy fucking shit. This girl is nuts.
I can’t help the smirk spreading across my lips. I bring my glass up to my mouth, taking another sip from it.
“Look, man, I won fair and square, and you want to be a sore loser? You knew what you were getting into when you agreed to play. I’m sorry you underestimated my skills.”
The giant of a man stalks forward toward the girl. She doesn’t move an inch. Badass.
She looks fierce behind her glossy black hair. The bottom of it is dyed teal, and she has chocolatey brown eyes. She is short, no taller than 5’2”. She has an hourglass figure, and I’m pretty sure she’s Hispanic. Although much smaller than her opponent, she stands tall. There is no fear in her eyes. I can’t look away.
What’s even more entrancing is the fact that this isn’t just a two-person argument—there are two more goons standing behind the one in the altercation. They have their arms crossed in front of their chests, waiting for the right moment to jump in.
“Give me my money back and maybe I’ll let you walk out of here,” the huge man threatens. He has bulging biceps and looks Hawaiian.
The ferocious girl glances up at him. “Maybe you’ll let me walk out of here?” She laughs, slamming the money back onto the pool table. “You’re going to pay me what you owe me, and maybe I’ll forget this ever happened.”
I don’t know this girl from Adam, but she’s downright insane if she thinks she can take him.
Excerpt 2:
Destiny
The wind whips my hair around my face with a vengeance. Being out here like this, one with nature, is one of the biggest reasons I wanted to ride a motorcycle. There is something about morning dew touching your nose as you ride, the wind kissing your cheeks. Taking my Harley out is not only therapeutic, but also exhilarating.
I didn’t have a set destination in mind when I took off this morning at dawn, but it feels nice to ride without a care in the world. After a few short hours, I return to my apartment sun-kissed and hungry. Rummaging through my fridge, it’s apparent there isn’t much more than butter and water. Grabbing my keys, I’m out of my apartment faster than one could say cheese. Church has decent lunch specials, and I’ll be able to pick up the check from our last show there.
The bar is quiet and nearly empty when I arrive, just the way I like it. Hopping off my bike, I’m led inside by the aroma of chicken noodle soup. The bartender nods my way, already heading toward the back room to get my check.
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