Luck - it is an interesting word, particularly when you are referring to fiction. As writers we are taught that conflict is the name of the game. Every scene should have some point of tension, even if it is a very small one. So how are our characters supposed to have any luck when their evil authors are making life as difficult as possible?
Oh do the be the creator of such complications. Isn't writing fun?
So - here is an excerpt of one of the lucky/unlucky moments in Forbidden Territory due for release July 2012. (I've done some editing to shorten the scene a little.)
What the hell was going on? How could Tom not tell us he had a posh, snooty girlfriend? And the way he’s been leading Lexy on…. I was gonna kill him.
Jumping off the bench with ferocity, I stomped down the stairs and took a left straight into Tom’s bedroom.
“Hello Thomas,” I mimicked Victoria’s accent.
The lucky guy managed to collect his falling towel just in time and wrap it securely around his waist.
“Mica, hello. Listen do you mind if I just get dress…” his sentence faded.
The venomous look I was going for was obviously working. Good!
“Tell me something Thomas, what does it mean in England when someone’s your girlfriend?” I saw his face crumple with confusion. I continued talking before he had a chance to answer. “Because in New Zealand it means that that girl is exclusively yours, you go out on dates together, you kiss, you cuddle and YOU DON’T FLIRT WITH OTHER PEOPLE!”
“Well, it… it means the same in England, yes.”
I let out a sound of disgust before pushing him solidly in the chest. He fell onto his bed with a look of shocked fear. Was I really that intimidating? Double good.
“I can’t believe you’re a pee-head. I had such high hopes for you.”
“Mica, what are you talking about?”
“Lexy’s my best friend and I don’t want to see her get hurt. This is gonna kill her.” I lifted up my palm to reveal Victoria’s name in smudged blue ink.
Tom leant forward to read it, but couldn’t quite make out the letters.
“Your girlfriend called.”
The blood drained from Tom’s already pale face and his shoulders slump.
“Let me guess… Victoria, right?”
“Yeah!” My anger was still present, but the look on his face was making it settle.
“She’s not my girlfriend.”
“Well she seems to think otherwise.”
“S-She was my girlfriend.” Tom held up a hand to stop my angry approach. “But we broke up before I came here."
I let my gaze linger on Tom’s face. He was being honest.
“You know Oxford, I’d be willing to take back that pee-head insult, and all the foul things I called you on the way downstairs, if you promise to do something for me.”
He gave me a tentative nod.
“Tell Lexy. Tell her everything, because if you don’t and she finds out through some secret means, you’ll never get her back. She’s a straight up kinda girl and hates being lied to. I love my best friend and I don’t want to see her get hurt. You need to ring and tell Miss Snooty Pants it’s over.”
Tom physically shuddered. Man, that girl must be scary.
“I know. I’ll… I’ll try.”
“Don’t try. DO it! I have to be honest with ya. I’m gonna tell Lex about Victoria. We tell each other everything, so either way, she’s gonna find out, but when she does and she confronts you on it… you need to have a pretty sweet sales pitch ready or you can say goodbye to the best thing that's ever gonna happen to you.”
Tom looked crushed.
“Don’t cock this up, Oxford. Make the call then tell Lexy the truth.”
“When will you talk to her?” His urgent voice made me pause in the doorway.
“I don’t know. I’m not really looking forward to the conversation.”
“I know what you mean.” He took a large gulp. "I'd really appreciate a little time. If you could just hold off telling her."
"She'll know something's up."
"I know. She has eyes like a hawk." His grin only lasted a second. "I just need to figure out exactly what I'm going to say."
I reluctantly nodded. “Good luck, Tommy boy.”