So I've been working on my original novel lately, & I've been so pumped to get back to it that I added an introductory chapter to the beginning, which I thought I'd share with you all. I'd like to state that I haven't finished the novel (it's probably about 2/3 complete) & I haven't even started looking for a publisher, but I plan on doing just that very soon.
Oh, & for my TWP readers, I still plan on actively working on that still, but for now I have no future plans to write any more fanfiction since I want to work on my original stuff. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the sample chapter from my novel:
She was nineteen when she discovered that she was pregnant with her son, Dalton.
She was twenty when she lost him.
It didn’t rain the day of his funeral—a word that she despised; there wasn’t so much as a damned cloud in the sky to mourn his loss with her. The rain would have been a welcoming sight indeed, offering the illusion that the sky had opened up and poured out its grief for the tiny boy that had so recently been buried in the earth—her baby boy that had never had a chance at life.
But it hadn’t happened that way. Instead of standing in the rain, Fallon O’Malley found herself gazing out at the clear, sapphire sky over the southern West Coast, studying the way the white crests of the waves kissed that sky, the way the tourists and surfers littered the golden shore and dotted the water.
Oblivious. It was all completely oblivious to her pain, to the fact that a tiny baby boy, who’d been dead before he’d ever even breathed his first breath, her Dalton, was dead. The sob worked its way up in her throat, but she forced it back out of fear that if she began to cry she might not ever stop.
Oh, & for my TWP readers, I still plan on actively working on that still, but for now I have no future plans to write any more fanfiction since I want to work on my original stuff. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the sample chapter from my novel:
Chapter One: Goodbyes
She was nineteen when she discovered that she was pregnant with her son, Dalton.
She was twenty when she lost him.
It didn’t rain the day of his funeral—a word that she despised; there wasn’t so much as a damned cloud in the sky to mourn his loss with her. The rain would have been a welcoming sight indeed, offering the illusion that the sky had opened up and poured out its grief for the tiny boy that had so recently been buried in the earth—her baby boy that had never had a chance at life.
But it hadn’t happened that way. Instead of standing in the rain, Fallon O’Malley found herself gazing out at the clear, sapphire sky over the southern West Coast, studying the way the white crests of the waves kissed that sky, the way the tourists and surfers littered the golden shore and dotted the water.
Oblivious. It was all completely oblivious to her pain, to the fact that a tiny baby boy, who’d been dead before he’d ever even breathed his first breath, her Dalton, was dead. The sob worked its way up in her throat, but she forced it back out of fear that if she began to cry she might not ever stop.
