Yeah, I’m going to need a better working title than that. One candidate is Mood Ring Eyes, but while I like the feel of the phrase – three four-letter words with distinctly different vowel sounds – it’s better suited to a romance (or for that matter a cheesy pop song) than a noir mystery. Anyway, here’s the opener as it now stands:
I was running and I was naked and my hands were cuffed behind my back. Ziptied, actually, the plastic strips cinched tight as hell, circulation long since gone. I pictured my hands oversized and puffy, like the Hamburger Helper mascot.
Forty words down, 76,960 to go! (Actually, I’m more than 5,000 words in, and I like where the story’s heading.) Stay tuned.