CLOSE ON – a pock-marked face rippling as if something is alive underneath it. Unnatural black veins pop out on forehead and temples as ALAN BIGBY, 50’s, bucks and writhes against the iron shackles chaining him to a chair.
Behind him through the big bay windows you can just glimpse the HOLLYWOOD sign.
ALAN
I’m going to rip out your innards, Butcher, and eat them raw.
He spits. Viscous green phlegm lands on the toe of a black DOC MARTEN.
PAN UP to see CADEN BUTCHER, 18, unkempt but cool with it, trying to hide a scrawny frame in layers of clothing, and a black wool cap to hide a mess of brown wavy hair, a large Saint George MEDALLION hangs around his neck.
CADEN
Not today, sweetheart.
He unscrews the sliver cap on a bottle of holy water and sprinkles it on Bigby in retaliation.
BLACK SMOKE curls up from BLACK SPOTS on his skin.
Off to the side, Bigby’s WIFE cringes as her husband twists in obvious pain.
TREY (O.S.)
Dude, is he going to hurt himself?
Caden turns to SEE hipster guy with perfectly messy locks holding the camera trained on Alan Bigby. This is TREY SUMMERS, 20’s.
CADEN
For the last time, dude, shut up. I’m the only one supposed to be talking.
And now we SEE that the house is full of people, crantinis and mini wienies being served by uniformed waiters. It’s the party only a name on a guest list can get you into.
*~*~*
That was a quick snippet from my script DEMON WHISPERER, based on my book DEMONS OF THE RICH AND FAMOUS, that I’m going to be developing into a web series this year.
I have three other scripts, two features and a TV pilot, that have been optioned and will hopefully, after rewrites and lots of meetings with various people for funding, will get into development in the next year or two (it takes years for this stuff to happen). Out of those 3 projects, one of them is also based on a book I’ve written that isn’t published yet, and the other two I’m planning on adapting into books. I love that I have that option and the skills to know how to do it.
The ability and skills to adapt books into scripts, and scripts into books. It’s not easy that’s for sure as they each use a different set of skills to write. But they are skills a person can learn.
The main differences between scripts and novels:
length – the average script is 100 pages, about 11,000 words, the average novel is 50,000 words
format – a script is very structured in that way, with sluglines, character tags, dialogue, action lines, etc. while novels are separated into chapters
action/dialogue – everything in a script is visual or audible, there is no room for introspective or description, where as a novel is rich with descriptive detail and deep POV
setting/budget – the simpler the setting the better, if you can tell a story in one room with one character, you’re a genius, with a novel grander is better, if you can tell a story in a huge world populated with 100 characters, you’re a genius
structure – this is the biggest one, and sometimes the hardest to learn, scripts operate on a rigid 3 or 5 ACT structure, like a skeleton to hang all the story bones onto it, novels don’t have a strict structure to be adhered to, you have a story with a beginning, middle and end
In March, I’m teaching a SCRIPTWRITING FOR BEGINNERS course online through the Alberta University of the Arts and will teach all of these five things and more. The course is perfect for a complete beginner to writing scripts, and perfect for authors who want to adapt their own work.
It’s an in depth 8-week course, and at the end I will be offering a critique on your finished work.
I hope you will check it out, and maybe I’ll see you there.
(I’m also offering a second course WORLDBUILDING FOR WRITERS)
It’s a dreary, gray day here in Central Arkansas. It’s not like I had big plans for today anyway. Maybe the rain is a good thing because I won’t be distracted by the sunshine outside. It’s cool and the rain is pretty heavy. Yesterday, I thought I’d have to run a hose to the pool to top it off, but now, I may have to dump some water because it’s reaching the rim. So…the rain is dreary, but the pool is full. Glass half full, you know.
I had a guest scheduled for today, and she may yet show up, but in the meantime, here’s a puzzle for you to play. Let me know how you liked it and tell me what the weather’s doing where you are for a chance to win a painted bookmark! ~DD
Hey there. I was sitting here, wondering what to talk about today, and I have this new little girl sitting on my desk. My sister, Elle James, was in Norway not long ago and purchased this for me. She knows I like weird things—and LOVE trolls—so, here she is. I wrote a troll book a while back…
Before I set her on a shelf, she needs a suitable name. How about you offer some suggestions? For a chance to win a download of your choice from my backlist, give this sweet troll a name! And if you have a “story” about how she came to be here, share it!
You know me and my taste in movies. I love quirky, funny, action movies. (It’s why I’m rooting for Everything Everywhere All at Once for the Best Picture Oscar—and why I bought my own copy of the movie!) Nic Cage’s Renfield is on my “must watch” list, but so is Cocaine Bear, which releases THIS MONTH on the 24th! I love the title—it’s like Snakes on a Plane (another fave of mine). It tells you exactly what you’re in for.
Have fun watching the trailer. It hurts to see Ray Liotta, but what a movie to end his career with. Epic! Enjoy! And be sure to check out the numerous contests still open on this blog, some of which are ending soon!
It’s crazy to think we’re already in February. Here in Australia, we have one more month of summer and to be honest, it hasn’t been much of one. We’ve had a lot of mild, overcast days which I’m hoping is a sign of another mild winter to come.
Like our gracious host, I also enjoy reading about National days (regardless of where I live) and have featured a few on my Instagram during January. My fave so far—12th Jan, Kiss a Ginger Day. My sister is a redhead, and my nephew (not a redhead) got a big kick out of it. They were on holidays at the time, and he was quick to report that he kissed his mum for me.
Today is National Weather person’s day which I like because the FMC in my current work in progress is a weathergirl. Cassidy is a bubbly, happy-go-lucky twenty-two-year-old who has been doing the nightly weather segments for the past year.
We meet Cass in the middle of the action and rather than tell you about it, I’d love to share this little teaser:
As Cassidy Symons entered the lavish foyer of the Whitney Resort and Spa, her daily mantra rang in her head. You’ve got this. You’re a strong and confident woman.
On any other day, she was. But she was about to face her toughest challenge to date, the thought causing her insides to somersault.
She’d practically grown up in this sophisticated and open foyer, with its sweeping polished marble staircase, crisp white columns and mahogany reservations desk. The clusters of white, plush sofas and armchairs where she’d sat waiting for her father to finish work for the day. The plush teal carpet, a perfect contrast against the super shiny white marble tiles. This space had been her home away from home.
She spied her father across the hallway, invested in a conversation with Gordon and Paul Whitney. Over the years, all three men had loomed as large figures to her pre-teen self and now, while she wasn’t exactly tall, she no longer needed to crane her neck for eye contact.
Her father had summoned her here and she knew why. She had her arguments at the ready. There was no way she’d accept the proposal that was about to be put to her.
The three men turned their attention to her and her footsteps slowed as hesitation swelled, engulfing her with one swift bite. She… she couldn’t do it. She’d let them talk her into the absurd arrangement and her happy-go-lucky, spirited persona would be no more. She’d be pulled into a world of duty and propriety. Panic took its hold.
With a desperate breath, her gaze stalled on a guy about her age and height standing in front of the staircase, camera in his hand as he perused the screen.
‘There you are, honey!’ The words tore from her mouth as cute, hazel eyes met hers. Well aware the three men were watching; she pressed her lips against the cute guy’s mouth and kissed him with passion worthy of a role on Home and Away.
#
Zane Browne fell into the kiss with ease. If a woman wanted to kiss him like that, who was he to argue? With closed eyes, his other senses gained control. Her lips were lively, friendly. She tasted like strawberries and smelled like pears, the fruity combination nourishing his insides. Giggles corrupted the moment and he knew they belonged to the three young girls he’d just finished photographing as part of a family portrait package.
When those soft and vigorous lips left his, his eyes opened to the most beautiful, baby blues he was sure he’d ever seen. They were his weakness but right now, hers were wild bordering on frantic. There was definite panic within their gorgeous hue. Was she trying to avoid someone?
‘Please help me,’ came the whispered plea.
‘Okay.’ He let his gaze widen, taking in her tight mouth and brunette coloured hair that stopped just above her shoulders and was full of soft curls. And had her shoulders just dropped with relief at his acceptance? He took in the red sundress with white polka dots as a thought crossed his mind. The woman looked familiar but that lip smacking moment had him unable to put a name to her face.
‘Follow my…’
‘Sweetheart.’
He and Miss Sweet Lips turned in unison and he locked eyes with an older guy in a seriously expensive looking suit.
‘Hello, Dad.’
He’d never kissed a woman in front of her father before, so this was getting interesting. When her fingers touched his bicep, curiosity and the temptation of an adventure had him by the balls.
That excerpt was from The Freelancer, Book 3 of 5 Shades of Brothers Browne series. This fake relationship, contemporary romance will be due for release later this year, but in the meantime, books 1 and 2 in the series are available through Amazon and KU – Buy both for $2.35
And if you have a thing for Tradies, be sure to check out Mister Tradie, an Instalove vs. slow burn, steamy novella for 99 cents on Amazon and KU
About Deb Robinson
Deb’s just a humble little writer who loves what she does. She lives with her lovely husband in their little haven in Melbourne, Australia. She loves all things romance and believes it takes many forms. Her current catalogue consists of hot, contemporary romance under two series: 5 Shades of Brothers Browne and A Sexy Tradie Novella.
She very recently joined TikTok and you can follow her @debrobinsonbooks Follow Deb Robinson on her official Facebook page Follow on Twitter @DRobinsonbooks Follow on Instagram @debrobinsonbooks
I’m posting late today. Honestly, I nearly forgot to post at all. My daughter and I headed out with the 9-year-old this morning to spend time at the flea market and then eat a meal out. I bought junk I didn’t need—according to her.
I bought a tin with lemons painted all over it that will make lovely cut tin earrings; a vintage yellow enamel soap dish; a white and charcoal-grey flowerpot that will be perfect for holding more paintbrushes; a stack of music books with yellowed paper that will be perfect cut up for collage fodder; and three small, framed prayers that will be disassembled so I can use the matching frames for my art.
Before we left for our flea market jaunt, my dd shot her monthly “senior pictures” of the 18-year-old. I can’t get over how gorgeous my baby looks or how well my older baby works her iPhone camera. Check this out!
The background’s red for the Valentine’s Day theme, but baby girl didn’t need to dress up to look fabulous.
I used another photo for the jigsaw. Wait until you see it!
For a chance to win a $5 Amazon gift card, tell me what you’re up to this weekend!
In March of 2009, I was lucky enough to have a friend from college staying in Auckland for a couple of years. When she told me she was coming back to the States, I headed south of the Equator to visit before I lost the free place to stay and the local guide (and to see her, of course). Foolishly, I thought twelve days was plenty of time to see both islands of New Zealand with time to spare. I barely saw the north end of the smaller north island, and I didn’t see probably half of what that magical place had to offer. My friend told me there was beauty around every corner. Wow, was she right!
The Coromandel Peninsula has to be one of the most incredible places on earth. Beautiful beaches, dense fern forests, and commanding vistas. I’ve never see so many stars under a moonless, night sky laying on a beach with the soundtrack of waves gently hitting the sand. In the morning, exotic shells lay scattered all over the sand while the sun rose over the Pacific Ocean. I knew I had to write about this special trip.
In Memories of Coromandel, MacKenzie Wright had spent mere weeks in New Zealand on a work trip three years prior, but he’d met a guy and fell hard. Erik Parata had left his mark on MacKenzie, and he hadn’t found anyone to even come close to Erik since he’d left and broke both of their hearts.
MacKenzie’s well-meaning bestie and workmate, Alicia, manipulated a three-month work trip for MacKenzie back to Auckland, and almost immediately, MacKenzie stumbles into Erik one morning at the beach near Hahei. Their relationship steams ahead, and finally, MacKenzie has to make a choice: hurt Erik again and leave or give up the security of the life he’d built from nothing in Seattle.
You can order the seventh book of Rain City Tales, Memories of Coromandel on Amazon or Kobo. Checkout Brent’s website for the other Rain City Tales and for more details on upcoming books.
Excerpt from Memories of Coromandel:
The first morning glimmers of sunlight filtered in through the cabin’s curtained window. MacKenzie blinked and rubbed the granules of sleep out of his eyes. Taking his bearings, he pushed himself out of the single bed and tugged on his board shorts. Beach time.
Rifling around in his bag, he found a tank top and pulled it over his head. He slipped on his sandals, snagged his keys, and shuffled out of the small cabin. After a quick stop at the cinderblock building housing the toilets and showers, he headed to the thin, sandy trail between the grass-covered dunes toward the sound of waves washing against the shore.
A flush of pink over the horizon merging with the dark blue of the clear sky met his gaze when he reached the beach. A few stars still twinkled, but the predawn glow dimmed their light. He kicked off his sandals, feeling his feet sink slightly into the cool sand. He trod carefully around the brightly colored shells dotting the shore and strode into the surf. Small waves of warm ocean water rolled over his ankles, and he breathed in the morning sea air.
Movement caught his peripheral vision, and he turned away from the impending sunrise over the Pacific Ocean to track the motion. A man stood in the surf, balanced on one leg in a yoga pose, hands together in front of his bare chest. His tight, tiny bikini shorts clung to his substantial yet firm ass. Powerful legs held him upright as he stared out toward the approaching dawn. A sleeve of tattoos ran up one deeply tanned arm from elbow to shoulder, but MacKenzie couldn’t tell what the tattoos were at this distance. The design looked Māori.
Light poured over the man, and MacKenzie tore his gaze away to watch the sun bursting over the horizon and ascending into the sky. A gentle breeze blew off the ocean, giving him a rush of goose bumps over his chest and arms. The warm water pulsed with a wave and washed over his knees.
Once the sun had completely lifted above the horizon, a splash from the direction of the impressive figure in the surf drew his attention. The man had abandoned his yoga pose and dived into the water, emerging several yards farther out in the ocean. He bobbed for a moment then swam back toward the shore, mesmerizing MacKenzie with the powerful strokes of his muscled arms.
Reaching the shallow waters, he dove under and resurfaced closer to MacKenzie. The morning sunlight shimmered through the droplets of water cascading off him. MacKenzie raked his gaze over the man, stopping at the impressive pecs, and froze. A tattoo of a crescent moon stood alone on the rounded muscle, matching the necklace hanging around his own neck.
MacKenzie brought his hand up and clutched at the jade resting on his chest. He’d only ever seen one person with that particular tattoo before. The swimmer stopped moving, facing MacKenzie, with his head tilted to the side. Recognition slammed into MacKenzie when he met the eyes of the dripping man, and his heart leaped.
He moved again, wading through the shallows toward MacKenzie, his mouth slightly open and face set in an expression MacKenzie could only describe as awe. With a tremble, MacKenzie willed his legs to move, and he stepped through the submerged sand to meet him halfway.
After a moment, they stood face to face, and MacKenzie had no doubt he’d found the person he’d wished not to find. The man he’d fled Auckland upon his arrival to avoid. The man he’d never quite gotten over, even after three years. The man he’d hurt.
“It’s you, isn’t it?” The unmistakable voice of Erik Parata spoke across the short distance between them and crashed over him as strong as any wave.
“Erik.”
*~*~*
Brent Archer began writing in 2011 at the nudging of his cousins. His first story sold, and he was hooked! Keep up with Brent Archer and his current releases at his website, and follow him on Instagram and on Twitter @brentarcherwrit.
