Sunday, 19 October 2008

First scene

I can't believe it's been more than a year since I last took a "dip" here.
I've been concentrating on other projects, but HB has never long been out of my thoughts.
It'll be a while before I get back to it full time.
In the meantime, here's a posting of the first few paragraphs:

HB (working title)

Chapter One

A girlfriend once told Darius Scarlett he had a woman’s sense of smell. She’d said it accusingly, as if sensitive olfactory nerves were exclusive to females. True, he could smell gas leaks before the sensors did, and sulphur before a match was struck. He could even tell if a woman was willing from ten bar stools away. A gift, maybe. Blessing or curse, today it was the latter.

The other detectives were already there--the air in the briefing room, hot from late afternoon sunlight, was ripe with their smells: McMann’s cigars, though unlit, had a strong horse-shit odor; Warren's last meal, something with garlic as usual; Medson’s feet, cheap shoes and nylon socks; Doane’s faint perfume, pleasantly fresh; Breckenridge, brand new dad, baby powder dust an aura surrounding him.

Darius slid into the chair next to his partner.

“You’re late,” Kim Doane whispered, slight disapproval in her voice..

He had his reasons, but now was not the time to explain.

“Detective Scarlett, nice of you to join us.” Inspector Armand cast a brief glower his way. “All right, people.” His voice, like his shirt, was crisp. “This is Sergeant Grant from FCS, Financial Crime.”

Grant had a face of stone. “One of our detectives was murdered today.”


That's all for today.

I'll dip again, sooner than a year, I hope.