During the last few days I indulged in a bit of what I call “free plotting.” What the heck is that, you will ask? Well, it’s very simple: you just move along with the flow and let the scene carry you where-ever it wants to. There’s no prior plan; the scene enfolds “naturally”, like a blossom (now, isn’t that cheesy *g*). And I love it! Yeah! (So there is indeed still hope for the WIP!) (At this point feel free to cheer and throw confetti.)
Today I worked at a wet-and-naked-hero scene. This was a homework from my crit group, and I have to thank Jen (who’s queen when it comes to thinking of new homework) (and not just then! :O) ) for this very inspiring exercise which turned into a fully fledged scene. (Yup, there’s another “Yeah!” coming. Throw more confetti, if you like.) Well, and since Dorie asked for more Wolfenbach … Enjoy!
The set-up: Cissy married Fenris, but didn’t get a wedding night (uhm, yes, my heroines tend to be rather unlucky in that respect …). After a few months she is thoroughly sick of the situation and decides to take action. Here we see her putting Step 1 of her plan into action: Getting Hold of Your Husband. After Fenris has just come home from a ride, Cissy marches upstairs to his room. She knocks, nobody answers, and she decides to go exploring ….
Cissy tiptoed fully into the room and closed the door behind her to shut out any witnesses of her indiscretion. Though what witnesses there might be in an almost deserted castle was anybody’s guess.
The door screeched in protest.
Drat! She closed her eyes.
“Johann, is that you?” came the muffled voice of her husband from the other room amidst more splashing of water.
She grimaced. No, not exactly. She opened her eyes again, rubbed her nose. Courage, Celia. Courage.
She crept forward, toward the intriguing doorway.
Another step … and another … around the bed … My, wasn’t it large!
Shivering a little, Cissy thought of the intriguing possibilities a large bed provided.
Hastily, she took another step forward and came to an abrupt halt in the doorway. Her mouth fell open. Her right hand reached up and covered her frantically thumping heart. Her lips formed a soundless O.
For in front of her, her husband stood with his back turned towards her and all he was wearing were his tight moleskin riding trousers. Muscles bunched and flowed in his shoulders and back as he sponged himself down. His skin glistened wetly, while sweat and dust still clogged his hair. Only at the nape, the strands lay damply against the skin.
Utterly fascinated, Cissy watched how a drop of water fell onto a shoulder blade. For a moment it hovered there like a tiny diamond, then Fenris moved, his muscles rippled, and the waterdrop slid down towards the grove of his backbone, gained momentum, swept along tiny drops clinging to his skin, slithered down and down and — disappeared under the waistband of his trousers.
Cissy drew in a much needed breath of air. Oh my!
Starting wildy, she couldn’t prevent a tiny squeak to escape her.
Fenris’s head snapped around. Green eyes widened.
Nervously, she lifted her hand and wriggled her fingers in what she hoped looked like a friendly wave. “Uhm. It’s me,” she croaked.
(Excerpt from working title THE CASTLE OF WOLFENBACH by Sandra Schwab. Copyright 2005. All rights reserved.)