Got your attention, didn't I?
Well, the editor who sent me a six page revision letter after having my manuscript dropped on her desk sure got mine. After flying through her letter I tossed it into the trash and stormed out of the house to drown my sorrows in a cup of chai tea at my local Starbucks.
What did she know? After all, my original editor LOVED the premise of my story and had approved the delightful prologue and first three chapters of my "baseball, secret baby, shotgun wedding" story. This particular editor suggested I get rid of the prologue and start my book with Chapter 3.
Chapter 3? What? Get rid of that lovely prose and witty dialogue between my hero and heroine? Start my book in HER POV?
Well, it took me one year to get over it and I finally decided to pitch the story as a long contemporary series book to another publisher. So when the editor I pitched to asked me to send the full manuscript, I knew what I had to do...yeah, get rid of the prologue and start the book with Chapter 3. If you need to get rid of 20,000 words, that's a good place to start!
So I took my machete to the manuscript and here's a snippet of the opening scene. I've got to say, it does seem to get to the heart of the story.
Oh, and that wonderful prologue? You just might find it later this month, buried somewhere in the PFHT Treasure Hunt!
On a frigid, wet Christmas Eve, Nikki Logan’s carefully constructed, secret life came apart at the seams. It wasn’t pretty.
She maneuvered through the semi-closed door and pushed Dominic Moretti back through the festive entry before anyone could see him, slamming shut the door behind her. Christmas Eve in Logan Springs, Georgia meant food, and lots of it. Family and friends had just started to fill their plates, so she was guaranteed at least ten minutes before they realized she was missing.
Her heart beat faster than a Major league fastball in July. “What the hell do you think you’re doing here?” she hissed.
“Has anyone ever told you that you have anger issues?” Dominic’s sultry voice and bedroom brown eyes added an extra layer of goose bumps to her quickly-freezing arms. He leaned in and gave her a sweet peck on the cheek. “Merry Christmas, cara.”
She broke into a cold sweat while scenarios of how she was going to get out of this mess raced through her mind. It was a shame the only plausible one was pushing Dominic off a familiar bridge and into the Chattahoochee River. Sadly, it was a good two-mile hike through the sleet in ridiculously high heels, which she’d agreed to wear tonight against her better judgment.
Maybe she could coax him into her truck.