Seventy-Two Hours of Mad Scribbling: Day Two

by syaffolee

Again, I have a bit over 5k written for today as of this post (about 3 PM).  Overall, I have about 16.5k of the story done.  That’s about half of the story, theoretically.  This is good, because it means that I’m still on track.

I haven’t reached this point in the story yet, but as I have been writing, I have been considering the villain and his motivations.  When I had been outlining the story last week, I had in mind a particular character as the villain, but now, I’m not so sure if he’s the right villain.  I’m beginning to think that it may be better to make him a red herring.  The true villain will have a much stronger motivation for doing whatever he’s doing.  And it would make more sense, too, in the end.

Currently, I’m thinking about getting pizza for dinner.

But meanwhile, here’s an excerpt.  Some of the microbiologists are meeting at an establishment called Le Jardin to celebrate the department head’s success at getting funding.  This is also where Luc (one of the microbiologists) discovers that the departmental transcriptionist and mechanist who he has been mooning over for the past six months is moonlighting as a cancan dancer.

* * *

A Ratty Scandal (excerpt)

Colette did not let his recognition deter her.  Instead she danced even closer and leaned over so that her mouth was close to his ear.  She was aware that he was at a vantage point to look down her dress.  “My name is Kiki, sir.”

To his credit, he did not move his hands.  “If your name is Kiki, I’m a lump of rock.”

“Perhaps a part of you is.”

His eyes widened at her outrageous remark.  Mademoiselle Lehavre from the Patine Institue would never say such a thing.  “Why are you here, Colette?” he growled.  And then suddenly, he reached out.

Colette was so attuned to him that she sensed his movement before he actually lifted up his hands.  Nimbly, she danced just out of reach.  She straightened up to regard him.  “Perhaps, sir, you would like a demonstration of a cancan dancer’s ability?  I’ll show you how I can take the hat you’re wearing off your head.  Without my hands.”

Luc glared at her, green eyes brilliant.  “I’d like to see you try.”

“Very well.”  Colette took a step back and with an ear-splitting holler, she gave a high kick, high enough that Luc could see clear under her dress to the emerald green knickers that she wore underneath.  Her heel whooshed by his ear and his hat flew off his head to tumble into his lap.  When she was back to standing position, he was looking at her and then the hat.

“Impressive,” he murmured as the other men at the table shouted in admiration of Colette’s kicking skills.

“A warning,” she corrected him.  “During a performance, you’re not allowed to touch.  But afterward…” she let her voice trail off.

Luc looked up from his hat to give her one of his predatory grins.  “Afterward, you will wait for me, Colette.”

“No one commands me to do anything,” she replied.  And then she flounced off to join the rest of the dancers who were going back onto the stage for their final encore dance.