Serial Dancer

Recently, I challenged myself to write a story built around cars and car chases, and I’m really happy with the way Pulp Driver turned out. The next challenge is dancing – the ballet kind. Of course, I couldn’t leave it at that, so there is a serious jag of vengeance/vigilantism/murder involved. Here’s the opening, while the ebook and paperback are available on Amazon.

 

DANISH DESIGN

PART 1

“Moth, be a butterfly,” the dance instructor said, “spread your wings.”

Milla Moth stretched, fingers poised, her arm moving as she lifted her chin, dipped her wrist, extended her slender fingers as the instructor pinched Milla’s elbow, pressed her hip, slapped at her bottom, studied her knee.

“Almost,” the instructor said. “Practice.” And then she was gone, walking her stiff walk to the stereo, pressing the skip button, backwards. The music started again, and the young apprentices of the Royal Danish Ballet School sighed as they slipped their bodies into the start position to stretch, poise and dip once again, and again, until it was dark outside, and they could just see the reflection of the lamps in the street sparkling the window in the corridor, outside studio four.

It was still raining when Milla lowered her arms for the last time, plucking at her leotard, the material damp and grainy between her fingertips as she lifted it from her abdomen. She glanced at her roommate, Scarlett, then crossed the short distance of the dance floor to embrace her. They pressed their foreheads together, breathed on sweat-streaked cheeks, and Milla said, “Done for today, baby.”

“Yes,” Scarlett said. She broke off and tapped Milla on the hip. “You’re cooking.”

“Again?”

“It’s Wednesday, again.”

“Fine.” Milla padded over to her cloth bags and her exercise tube. She sat down, leaned her back against the mirror, and unlaced her ballet shoes. She took a moment to study the black nail on her left foot, wondering when it might fall off, if she should pull it. The other girls said not to. Milla left it alone. She slipped her down-filled booties over her feet, stood up, and gathered her outfits, carrying them by the clothes hangers as she lifted her bags and followed the wake of weary dancers out of the studio and into the corridor. She recognised Scarlett’s cry as the door swung shut behind her.

[…]

Available from Amazon

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Withdrawal Symptoms!

I confess, this song was my ringtone for about 4 years! The song is called Seqinitta Qinngorpaatit and the band is Nanook. At one point I taught the new drummer when I was teaching at the A level college in Nuuk, Greenland’s capital.

I don’t know if this is throwback Thursday, but it is a great song.

Find out more about Nanook here.

The Blood is Floeing

Here’s a teaser, the opening paragraph from Blood Floe.

Even in the unfathomable dark of the polar winter there is always light. The moon reflecting on the surface of the sea ice, the green and white curtains of the Northern Lights twisting across the black night sky, the stars, pinpricks of light scrutinising the tiny villages and settlements dotted along the west coast of Greenland, the houses casting warm yellow squares onto the snow through thick-paned windows, the tiny red lights of the radio mast glowing above the graveyard on the mountain’s knee above the settlement of Inussuk, and a cigarette burning a bright orange, a smouldering flame just a few centimetres from the lips of the man wearing a headlamp, that he shined with slow drifts of his head to the left and right, as he searched for that damned dog that shunned the harness and refused to be trained.

Available for pre-order at just 0.99 from Amazon

USAUKCanada, and Australia