CM Simpson: Writer & Gamer

 Well, despite still being a bit greasy, I'm feeling much better than I did, yesterday. I'm still not game to eat anything, but the worst is over, and the words have been much easier to write, today. Starting Words: 6,356 Ending Words: 8,512 Total Words: 2,156 Extract:  ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Mr. Aram sends his apologies, but his offices are closed to you,” one murmured, his breath licking Oliver’s ear. “A favor for past favors,” the other one added in a voice just as low, his breath just as warm. They angled him to the left. “He strongly suggests the third name on your list, if Doc N’s advice is what he provides under the standard plan,” the first one added. “And he says his debt is reduced two markers,” the second one told him, in a tone that said there was no room for negotiation. They steered him subtly into the shadowed door of another café, one pluc...

 And we are on track for the third day in a row, although it was a close-run thing because I've either eaten something I shouldn't have, or I've picked up a bug. Four hours of evicting my stomach contents and dancing the Toilet Two-Step, and things are starting to settle, again - I might even contemplate sleeping, soon...maybe... All that aside, however, here are the day's stats: Starting Count: 4,250 Ending Count: 6,356 Total Words for the Day: 2,106 Extract: --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- There was only one guard left in the passenger compartment. He was standing by the door, but glanced over as Lewis lifted his head. When Lewis didn’t move, he went back to watching the door. The only other guard was the one on overwatch of the floor of the rear compartment…five feet away. I need you to distract them, the woman instructed. She what? Unless you want to spend mo...

 Day: 2 Words: 2,236 Total: 4,250 Extract: --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Oliver? Lewis sent, but silence greeted him and he knew he was on his own. Well, this sucks. Worry clawed at his gut, and he hoped the were hadn’t been found. “Hands on your head!” The command made him jump and he glanced up. The guard by the door was looking over the barrel of his blaster and had it aimed right at Lewis’s chest. Lewis’s eyes widened. “M…me?” he stuttered. The barrel jerked. “You.” The guard at the desk kept working, but a third one reached the end of the aisle. His weapon was also raised. Lewis lifted his hands. “Ookay…” He even managed to sound meek and scared. It wasn’t hard. The blood had drained from his face and his skin was cold. Ollie, I seriously hope you’ve got something up your sleeve, he sent, only to have the implant flash red. Transmission failed, he read. ...