Tag: g/t writing

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September 13th excerpt:

“One giant walking in the woods makes a racket, but two is almost enough to chase even the clouds away,” Bowman groused, though there was a smirk in his eyes.

“We’ve already been over my ‘stalking’ skills, haven’t we?” Dean asked sternly, the glint in his eyes belying the serious tone he’d taken. He cracked the first grin he’d had that day, glad to see their old friend, hale and hearty despite the trials of the last few weeks. Sam and Dean had very few people they’d consider friends, and Bowman was one of the exceptions who knew and associated equally with both brothers. “Good to see ya, small fry.”

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September 12th excerpt:

Jacob trudged towards one of the worn, rusty gates in the metallic wall, glad the fence existed. It kept the sprites just a little safer from humans, tucked away so far that they hardly noticed the world outside the forest.

He wanted to do what he could to keep that peaceful simplicity intact.

“It isn’t much farther,” he muttered, leading the way through the gate for Sam and Dean. The words were as much for himself as for the brothers; the pressure in the air from Dean’s looks was all but tangible. He half expected to find holes burned right into his jacket when the trip was all over. He hadn’t gotten off to a good start with the guy.

Sneak Peek

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Since the story name was guessed while the excerpts were still posting, here’s a special sneak peek of Far From Home!

The car came to a halt, and the engine cut out. High heels clicked their way around the car, and once more the door opened. This time, there were two voices instead of just the one.

“What were you thinking? The ritual has to be tonight. We can’t risk it just because you got nervous, Cee.”

The next person to talk had the voice of the secretary that had helped Dean. “I was thinking that this is a hunter, and we can’t risk having him on the loose.” Unlike earlier on in the day when she’d fawned over Dean, her voice was confident and assured. “Or did you forget the last hunter that happened to come across our coven, Dee?”

Dean’s body shifted, and then was lifted up by the two women. The cadence of walking was much different, and Jacob found himself lying on top of Dean like they were watching TV in the motel room, swinging from side to side.

“Besides,” Cee’s voice went on, “three blood sacrifices are needed for the blood moon, right? This is kismet, not bad luck. Unlike the children, no one’s going to miss one little hunter, all on his own.”

Then Dean was dropped to the ground and propped up, and the faint rustling sound of a rope being tied was all that could be heard as the man was secured.

Jacob kept a hand over his mouth while the two women worked. Part of him knew there was no way they’d hear his rapid breathing or pounding heart, and yet every second he worried he’d see a hand diving into the pocket after him with well-manicured nails ready to snatch him up. Thankfully, the hand never came, and he was left in the pocket as the final knot was pulled tight.

He heard a weak whimper from close to Dean, and his heart fluttered. It sounded like another woman, this one much younger than the others. Missing kids, the distracted thought flashed across Jacob’s mind to join the flurry of his other thoughts. Footsteps faded away with talk of more preparations for the sacrifice, but Jacob’s attention turned inward.

Blood moon. Sacrifice. Kismet? They had arrived in the nick of time. 

The only problem was Dean was captured, and most of his weapons waited back at the motel.

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September 11th excerpt:

For a short moment, Jacob didn’t realize the small voice was directed at him. The brothers had their own rapport, but he was still an outsider among them. He glanced away from the view out the window to find a tiny expectant look aimed his way, and his eyebrows went up.

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September 10th excerpt:

Soon after stepping into the car and closing the door with a slam, Jacob realized that he didn’t have quite as much room as he usually did in his own car. He wasn’t crushed by any means, but his knees were cramped. He glanced around at the seat as they all got settled.

It was a bench seat. Jacob wasn’t moving unless Dean moved with him. I’ll just leave that as it is, then, he told himself.

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September 9th excerpt:

“You’re giving everyone your pissy face,” Sam said under his breath, just loud enough for Dean to make out the words. He was still glowing from the awe he’d received from Jacob, able to feel the teenager’s eyes on him every step of the way while he climbed. Sam was impressed with himself for impressing the tallest person around. He didn’t want Dean scaring off Jacob.

Dean ignored Sam and stalked past Jacob. “We’re taking the Impala!” he said in annoyance. “I know the way.”

“… Alright,” Jacob replied. Dean’s actions caught him off guard a second time, blowing past him in his haste. He was glad Dean was so determined to get right to helping the sprites, and chose to think nothing of the attitude he was getting. Bowman had mentioned that Dean was an intense human, Jacob just hadn’t realized how intense.

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Well, I mean–

Barely an hour had passed before Sherlock’s mobile rang, making Sherlock freeze in place and John’s head snap up to lock eyes with him. The detective whipped out the phone and checked the caller ID.

“It’s Mycroft,” he confirmed.

John’s brow arched. “That was fast–”

“Dean! ” Sherlock called, cutting off John’s comment as he took long strides toward the kitchen.

Lestrade was more than a little frustrated, having drilled every single guard who’d had shifts since the day before, and all of them swore up and down that nothing had happened. None had let anyone into the crime scene for any reason since last Lestrade had been there. Storming back up the stairs, Lestrade swore that if Sherlock didn’t have a good reason for this…

Well, he didn’t know what he was gonna do, but he was sure it would come to him.

All feelings of exasperation were out the window as soon as Lestrade stormed in to find Sherlock flat on the floor near an air vent in the wall, giving him an almost feral look. He quirked an eyebrow at the detective until his gaze wandered to the small figure in front of him.

The small, shouting figure.

We totally haven’t not written this exact thing out already…

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September 8th excerpt:

Dean dropped a hand to the table, fingers idly pressing into the nicked wood surface. “I think it’s time to head there and check things out,” he decided.

Sam cast a glance over his shoulder at Jacob as he darted towards the hand Dean had left resting on the table for him. After so long spent with Dean, it was easy to recognize an “all aboard!” gesture. Hitching up his satchel, Sam bounded onto the back of Dean’s hand and began to scale up the muscular arm, taking advantage of handholds in the fabric that neither human could see.

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September 7th excerpt:

The coffee maker went off with a cheery ding that stood out against the somber mood that had fallen over the three at the table. Or, rather, two at the table, and one on it.

Dean didn’t bother getting out of his chair to get the coffee. He merely leaned back, precariously balanced for a few long seconds while he stretched his arm to snag the coffee pot. Sam found himself holding his breath until the chair legs thudded to the ground. He might not get hurt if Dean tumbled over, but it would be like living through an earthquake hit with his older brother as the epicenter.

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September 6th excerpt:

“Don’t forget the sugar this time!” Sam called as Dean set up the coffee maker and got it started. He got another annoyed glance, but only moments later, the container of sugars and creamers was set down next to him.

“For you to ruin your coffee with again,” Dean muttered as he finally took a seat close to Sam, still on edge.

“It’s not like we’re sharing,” Sam said, letting Dean’s annoyed manner slide right off him. He doubted Jacob (or anyone else, really) was ready to deal with Dean in this mood, leaving Sam the only one who could handle the older hunter.