Writing Excerpt: New Blood, Old Soul

“I don’t know why you always have to hold these meetings at night, Vincent,” Charles scoffed before he sat down before the large oaken desk. Charles Middleton was the editor-in-chief of Dark Sky Publishing, a publishing company that published Gothic horror.

Vincent Delacroix sat back in his ebony leather office chair and folded his hands on the desk. He stared at Charles, feeling angry at the man’s suggestion. To him, Charles was a weak man, unable to perform the smallest task that Vincent needed him to.

Vincent was the CEO and founder of Dark Sky Publishing. He built the company up from the ground, attending to it much like he would a lover. The company was Vincent’s baby, and he preferred to hire only the brightest individuals in the publishing field. It was one reason that his company was as successful as it was. He knew the economy and the needs of those authors he represented—and the editors.

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Undercover Desire – Chapter 3

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Related:

The Desire Series

CHAPTER THREE

Kelly looked at the scrap of paper that she had written the address on again as she sat in her vehicle. The cold air conditioner blew on her face, causing her hair to stream around the headrest.

1542 Rosemont. This was the place, but the building looked abandoned. Dirt—several inches thick in some places—clung to the bricks. Glass in the windows of the dilapidated building were smashed, shards laying below the panes. The unbroken windows were so caked with years of dust that they were completely opaque.

The houses—run down, falling apart buildings with rickety, cracked roofs—around the building weren’t in any better condition. This part of town housed the impoverished, the detritus of society; it was a blotch that the mayor wanted to hide, to pretend that it didn’t exist.

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Undercover Desire – Chapter 2

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Related:

The Desire Series

CHAPTER TWO

Kelly arrived at the newsroom before everyone but Paul, a usual occurrence. Her job was her life, and she wanted to get the most out of it. The thoughts of the anchor position danced within her mind, tantalizing her the proposition of Swinson being a household name.

“Swinson!” Paul bellowed as she passed his office.

Her stomach dropped. He would want an update to her story, as he viewed it as a waste of time. The senator’s death was enough to make it tantalizing to the public, but Paul wasn’t sure that there was anything substantial to it.

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