Wow, I made it to day two. Paid homage to my deity on this day, pay homage daily, but this day I gathered with others of same mind and worshiped together. Group worship at its finest.
Reading TWISTED FATE out loud-again, it seems the best way to catch the majority of grammatical errors. Searching Writer’s Market for appropriate agents to send a query, synopsis, and hopefully the completed manuscript to (Queries, synopsizes, and manuscripts, OH MY!)
Am posting the first few pages of my book. Please let me know if you would continue, or if it needs help. HONESTY is the key here. Don’t patsy me, it won’t help my work-Thanks.
-Highway Patrolman Don Garrett was on his normal route. He didn’t usually mind the long drives between towns but this night seemed to last forever.
The dark green canopy illuminated by his headlights seemed foreboding as he cruised down the highway. Normally teaming with nightlife determined to commit suicide off his bumper, or the tread of his tires, this night the silent forest was devoid of movement. Unsettled by the stillness, he wished he’d stayed home.
Slowing down through a blind curve, he swerved to avoid some debris on the road. Slowing further, he hit his flashers when the debris turned into a collision blocking the highway. Angling the cruiser for the best use of his headlights, he flipped on the high beams and called the dispatcher. “Sandy, send out an EMT to an accident about two miles north of Hannah’s Mill on Highway 19.
“10-4, Do you need an ambulance?”
“Yea, it looks pretty bad and I don’t see any movement—over and out.”
Grabbing his flashlight he stepped out to survey the wreckage. It looked like someone in an old Dodge Charger ran a stop sign and rammed into the side of a Mustang. A chill ran up his spine as he approached the Charger, his senses tingling as he searched for signs of life.
He approached the passenger’s side, shining the light through the open window, and frowned. He aimed the light down the side road behind the vehicle, swinging the beam back and forth while walking around to other side. The light reflected off millions of tiny shards of glass littering the highway created an eerie lightshow in the darkness as he slowly panned his flashlight across the asphalt looking for a body, blood splatter, or anything unusual.
His gut clenched when he saw the curved skid marks, made as the second car pivoted around the axis of the rear tire; the front fender and the door where the Charger impacted were crushed. The only thing left of the windows was the jagged edges of glass clinging around the border of the frames.
Unable to reach the driver’s door, he aimed the beam through the windshield. The driver’s seat was smeared with blood, but he couldn’t see the driver.
Unreasonable fear clinched his gut, and though he wanted to hurry, he edged cautiously in front of the once pristine automobile. He felt a sudden wave of nausea when he saw the letters S-H-E-L-B-Y on the hood over the front grill. His chest tightened and he couldn’t breathe. Pausing to calm his nerves, he proceeded. Rounding the passenger’s door he almost tripped on a dog lying in the road.
His stomach lurched when he saw the woman lying in a pool of blood on the pavement.
“LYN!” He shouted, kneeling down next to his cousin. He felt her neck for a pulse. It was weak, but it was there!
“Sandy, I need an ambulance out here NOW! Do you hear me, I need help now!” He shouted into the radio at his belt.
Lyn swallowed a mouthful of blood and coughed, spraying what she couldn’t swallow onto Don’s clothes. Her eyes fluttered. “Luna,” she moaned.
“She’s here,” he answered, wiping her bloody face with his hand. “Stay with me Lyn!” he demanded, pulling off his jacket and placing it on top of her. “Don’t you leave me, you hear. You stay with me!
“SANDY, WHERE’S THAT AMBULANCE!” He shouted into the hand set, but her reply was drowned out by the sirens of the approaching emergency vehicles.