Andy yelped and turned around to the voice behind her back. Her eyes met with a neatly tied cravat, the richest gold colour she had ever seen. She took a step backward, her eyes levelling to the face.
What she saw took her breath away. The deepest, yet most translucent grey eyes stared back at her. Mesmerized, she was rendered motionless. It held her attention, and somehow Andy felt as if she was drowning in a flush of unknown elixir, sucking her deeper and deeper.
"The darkness becomes you."
His words broke the spell. Andy quickly shook her head and tried to clear the haze in her head. Half dazed, she took a few paces behind, and after taking a deep breath, looked up at the man standing in front of her.
My god, she thought. It's Apollo.
That's an excerpt from the book I'm working on. I have no idea on how things will go with this one. As always, I only do novels when lightning strucks (not literally) and I get all worked-up, jumpy and go into an all-craze, sweating, typing away, waiting. Wanting to see where my rush might take me. How the book develops. Not having any guidelines, or even rough ideas for a book makes writing all the more challenging, but fun. You dread it, but you want to want to want to know what happens next. What? How? Where? Why? All these questions hangs above your head like a big liability - you don't want to care but you do, and you have to care. Whenever I pretend that the book didn't matter, that I couldn't care less on how thing progresses, I'd feel hollow and incomplete. I even get nightmares. Serious.
I guess for me, working in wild abandon is the ultimate freedom. Anticipating the unknown is a liberation that I crave for. It's cocaine for my soul.