Who’s Ready for Sam and Enzo?

This fall, my Resilience Duet will release. My plan is to release both books within three weeks of one another, so your wait won’t be long. I have to say, I love these characters. I love their interactions with one another and I can’t wait to share them all with you.

Today, I’m working on Resolution (book two) of the duet. There is a clear path with to the end in sight. I am beyond excited to see how this ends. If your wondering, “She doesn’t know how this will end?” let me explain.

For those of you who don’t know me, I’m a hybrid when it comes to plotting/pantsing. (A plotter meticulously plans out each scene as well as the entire story.  A pantser is someone who ‘flies by the seat of their pants’ to complete a story. ) I create a loose outline of what I want to happen in the book, but how I get there, comes to me as I write it.

I thought I’d drop a few lines from book one, to get you better acquainted with Sam and Enzo.

Enzo smiles at some unknown thought and I find myself blurting out, “What are you thinking about over there?”

He shakes his head to clear his thought but gives me a sideways glance with a lopsided smile. “I was just thinking about one of the last times I was out this way. My brother Zane bet me I couldn’t beat him to the top of the trail. So of course, we had to race. Even as adults, we’re still competitive. Zane thought I might be getting soft in my old age.” He chuckles aloud as he shakes his head once more. “I still managed to smoke him.” His voice now mischievous.

I look down at the sandals I’m wearing. “Uh, I might not be wearing the right shoes to race to the top.” I give him a questioning look and he immediately brings my mind to ease.

“Oh, I’m not planning on hiking to the top, or a race, Short-Stuff.” There is a wicked gleam in his eye as he continues, “Just maybe getting out and looking around a little.”

Short-Stuff? “I’m five-foot-seven. Since when is that considered short?” I’m never referred to as being vertically challenged. “Not all of us are six-foot-four gargantuan beasts,” I tease in return. “Besides, if I had my running shoes, you just might be on.”

He clears his throat, suddenly looking slightly humbled. “Um, actually I’m six-foot-six, not that it matters. But relax. I’m not here to race you, sweetheart. I just want to relax and enjoy the view.”

He grins once again, and his smile has me losing my thoughts completely. Wait! Six-foot-six?!?!? He’s almost a foot taller than I am. No wonder I feel like a bit of a dwarf around him. But still, I’m by no means considered tiny or short for that matter. I shake my head, trying to regain my thoughts.

“I thought we could kill some time there for a while before dinner at one of my favorite places. You couldn’t believe how much you miss the Pacific Northwest when you’re gone.

© Amanda Shelley 2018daylight-dirt-road-ecology-172510


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