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About the author
somegraphx
Novel: Fall from Grace
Genre: Horror & Thriller
20,207 words so far  

About somegraphx

Location: Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Home Region:
USA :: Pennsylvania :: Philadelphia

Age:42

Website: http://www.somethinggraphic.wordpress.com

Favorite writers: King, Koontz, Anne Lamott

Non-noveling interests: kids, karate, enjoying baby #3, singing in praise band

Joined: October 3, 2006

This Year: Official Participant

NaNoWriMo History:
'06 '07 '08

NaNoWriMo posts: 2

NaNoWriMo buddies: 11

 

Excerpt: Fall from Grace

Lionel took a deep swig of his coffee before spitting it on the ground. Stale and cold. There was a time he would have only had designer coffee that was perfectly brewed and served at a precise temperature. But those days were gone. Usually he took it as he found it, but this was several days old and had seen the inside of a microwave more than once.

It didn't matter anyway. Sleep wouldn't be coming even without the caffeine. He adjusted his hat and slid lower into the car so he wouldn't be noticed.

She would be home soon. He'd been following her for almost a week, confirming her identity and habits--ensuring he wouldn't make a mistake. This would be the last time he was able to work in this area. He usually limited his stays to no more than one and four catches, but this area had been unusually active. He opened up his laptop and pulled up a map of the area. He'd been tracking activity along the East Coast for almost three years now. He'd spent several weeks going out West and even a six month stint abroad and had come to the conclusion that it was concentrated in the Northeast portion of the United States. He hadn't determined why yet--weather? Chemicals? A virus with a small window of infection? Or maybe it was only contagious for a very short time. Maybe not everyone got infected. Or if they did, maybe most people recovered. Every hunch had been checked and double-checked and he was as in the dark today as he'd been when it all started, four years ago.

Of course, back then, he hadn't realized the scope of the problem. He'd never been able to imagine that he would, less than half a decade later, be hiding in an old, nondescript Ford Taurus, waiting for the latest target to arrive home. Four years ago, he'd been a medical equipment sales rep living in the suburbs of Philadelphia with his wife of twenty years, Lorelei. Four years ago, he'd been a self-made man with a summer house on the Jersey shore and a condo in the mountains. Four years ago, his goal was to be retired by now and touring Europe and the middle east with his wife. Four years ago was a lifetime away.

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