It’s almost a week into Nanowrimo. I’ve been smashing out words whenever I get the chance. And so far I have just over 9000. I thought I’d post an excerpt of one of the scenes I’ve written so far. This is literally straight out of my head and onto the (digital) page. It’s unedited, but should give a decent insight into what this new novel is about. (Short answer: superheroes, armoured super-suits, supercars, superpowers.)

I hope you enjoy. Please keep in mind it’s unedited, and I do plan to give it a proper rewrite and edit before finalising, but any comments are appreciated!

Kris stared up at her bedroom ceiling. At least tomorrow was the weekend. So it didn’t matter if she couldn’t sleep. Dad was really starting to get on her nerves. How was watching a couple of vigilantes fight going to hurt? It wasn’t like she was going to step between them or anything, just watch.

“He just needs to chill out,” she huffed at her ceiling. She understood his job was stressful, but still.

She rolled over and tried to get comfortable. In the darkness, unable to sleep, her mind was mulling over things. Not just her father.

Irritatingly, she’d started to think about Calvin. She hadn’t met him before, so he probably didn’t go to her school. Or he’d just moved, or something.

Kris huffed again. She wasn’t sure why what he’d said bothered her. Maybe it was, because, she’d been just that little bit impressed that he’d stood up to Butch. But only a little. In reality, it was stupid. I mean, Kris was pretty sure she’d stand up to someone if they picked on her. She knew how to look after herself, and her Dad had taught her a few things. But putting yourself in danger for a couple of whiny little kids who couldn’t be bothered to learn to skate properly. “Silly boy,” she muttered.

Her phone let out a little burp. Kris rolled over and picked it up. A message from Butch. They were hanging out at the skate park. Well, it was Friday night, she couldn’t sleep. And one good thing about Dad being on night shift, was that’d she’d be home before he was.

She slipped out of bed, slipped on shoes and her jeans and a shirt. Then crept downstairs and picked up her skateboard. As she slipped out the front door, she peeked over the fence, to the family’s shed in the back yard.

Mum had been spending almost all of her time in there, since she’d lost her job. Dad jokingly called it her ‘office’. Tinkering. Making things like the EMP she’d pulled on Tommy. And, presumably, finding herself a new job. Not that there seemed to be much of that happening.

The light was on inside. Which meant Mum was still out there, nutting out some problem. She wouldn’t be back in the house until she crashed; she’d be too tired to even check on her daughter.

Kris grinned, jumped on her skateboard and skated off down the street. She rounded the corner, and scooted off to the side as the glare of headlights, followed by a beefy rumble, came up from behind her.

Whoa. Someone around here had a decent car. And where had it even come from? They lived in a cul-de-sac. Must’ve been one of the neighbours…

The car rumbled past at low speed, and Kris saw it was a Mustang. A bright pink Mustang. She squinted and frowned faintly. And, then she realised who the Mustang belonged to. Only one superhero had a bright pink Mustang. Pink Punch.

What was Pink Punch doing here? And why was she stopping?

The pink Mustang stopped, and the window rolled down.

Okay, so the costume and the poor Mustang’s paint job were horrible. But, Kris had to admit, Pink Punch’s powers were pretty cool. An armoured suit that not only protected her, but could replicate almost any weapon in her hand. Pink particularly favoured large beefy gauntlets – perfect for punching bad guys.

And she was going to get to talk to her! Where was her phone?

“Kristina Lacey Mahrone! What the hell are you doing out here in the middle of the night?!” The faint mechanical buzz that always overlaid Pink’s voice, disguising it, was still there. But the tone and wording were dead familiar.

Kris dropped her board and felt herself flush, oddly enough in the current circumstance, at the use of her middle name. The board clattered on the asphalt. “I… wha…” How did…? Kris’ heart began to race, her jaw hanging open. “Oh my god… Mum?”

If you are doing Nanowrimo, check out my page on there, and friend me if you’d like. 🙂