A Snowball’s Chance

So, I’m working on watching what I eat, trying to lose weight. I don’t always do well with this whole eating healthy thing. Mostly because I have a natural affinity for pretty much all things containing sugar.

Friday there was cake at work. A lot of cake. I didn’t have cake. Sunday there was soooooo much Easter candy. I didn’t have candy. Monday there was a huge celebration cake at work and it looked like it had real frosting. My favorite. I went back to my desk without any of it.

But tonight…tonight I caved for a traditional Easter Snowball. It was green. I don’t feel (very) guilty.

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I’ve entered!

Well, I just submitted 200 words from the middle of a scene that is a few books away for the Sully Awards at https://mikeallegra.com/2017/03/21/sully-award-competition-now-open/#comment-19711.

I’ve never entered a writing contest before. I know my submission is a little different from a lot of the others, mostly dialogue, which is my favorite thing to write, especially if I only have 200 words!

The smell of acrid metal burned in the air around him. Hot powder from gun fire mixed with the coppery smell of blood flooded his nose. His blood. His blood. It’s your blood, his brain screamed, snapping him back to reality. He blinked in quick succession at the growing dark spot on his grey, long-sleeved, shirt. The stain was spreading just above the elbow. “She shot me.”

“That she did,” his partner, Phoenix, answered. A wry smile spread across his face.

“Why did she shoot me?” He wiggled five fingers and bent his arm as much as he could before the pain fired through him.

“I don’t think she likes you’re FBI.”

“There’s a lot of people I don’t like. I haven’t shot any of them,” Quin returned. Gingerly, he pulled his arm from his shirt sleeve for a better look at the wound. A little kid disappointment set in when he saw the bloody graze mark. For his first gunshot wound it wasn’t going to be anything to show off over beers. “Did Mikey catch up to her?”

“Yeah, they caught her just down the street. She wasn’t as fast on six inch stilettos as she thought she was.”

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And the Sully goes to…

There’s a little writing contest going on right now on www.MikeAllegra.com. Besides a handful of other useful prizes like caffeine and books, the winner will get their very own Sully. I’m competing for the certificate. The biggest challenge will be getting something worthwhile down to 200 words. I tend to like words in high numbers. 😉

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