Here it is. The opening scene of my #NaNoWriMo project. It’s only a first draft (and mine are usually horrendous), subject to change, the cutting room floor, or the dust bin never to see the light of day…

 

~ 1 ~

Jessica leaned forward in the driver’s seat as she eased her Chevy Aveo around the corner on the crest of the hill. Not only was it a blind summit, but a blind summit on a curve. Once moving straight again, she glanced down to the passenger seat and the picture of the house – her house – she’d printed before leaving home. A cursory glance at the GPS showed she was within a block of her new-to-her home.

From the time she first saw the real estate listing for Hillcrest House on the Internet, she knew she had to have it. The entire transaction took place online via websites, emails, scans and e-transfers.

She knew the house would be on her right so she slowed to a crawl and watched out the passenger window.

“You have reached your destination,” the female voice with a British accent said.

Engrossed in looking for her new home, the noise startled her causing her to jump.

When Jessica set up the GPS unit, she chose a woman’s voice over a man’s. She’d never taken orders from a man before and wasn’t about to start now. Besides, this voice was the least abrasive of the available selections.

Flipping on her right signal light, she pulled her car over to the curb and shut off the engine. Climbing out from behind the wheel, Jessica stretched. It had taken her about five hours to get here and her body knew it. She raked her fingers through her short, auburn hair then turned and leaned on folded arms on the roof of the car.

The granite, Victorian mansion stood to one side of the lot. A wrought iron fence mounted on a stone wall surrounded the property. Patches of bare metal showed through the aqua green roof. Weathered plywood replaced glass in some of the upper windows. Others had gaping holes in the panes.

Paint peeled from the pillars and balusters of the sweeping verandah. Sections of the railing were missing. This once elegant home had fallen into a serious state of disrepair.

The blip of a siren startled her. She whipped around in time to see a police cruiser come to a stop behind her car. The officer emerged donning his Stetson as he approached. He was well over six feet tall and fit. Why did she have to notice his physique? She swore off men when her marriage fell apart. Now she was ogling a cop? She needed to get a grip.

“You can’t park here. Didn’t you see the no parking signs?” He pointed to one near her car.

“No. sorry, I didn’t.”

“Pull around the corner and park on the far side of the street.”

Jessica climbed back in her car. She didn’t intend on taking orders from a man but this one wore a uniform and carried a gun. She drove around the corner and pulled into the driveway. A chain stretched between two stone pillars prevented her from going any further.

Parked on the property, there would be no reason for the cop to hang around. But when she exited her vehicle, the cruiser was across the foot of her driveway.

“What’s your interest in this place?” he asked, standing with his hands on his hips.

“I own it,” she announced with pride. If he was trying to intimidate her, it wouldn’t work. She’d been through far worse. This guy, arrogant as he was, didn’t frighten her at all.

“Really. Got any proof?” he asked, folding his muscular arms across his chest.

“As a matter of fact, I do,” she shot back and leaned in the window. Jessica grabbed the strap on her enormous, suede handbag and pulled it towards her and out the window. Placing it on the hood of her car, she rummaged through it until she found the envelope from the lawyer. “Here,” she bragged thrusting the envelope in his face.

He removed the papers and looked them over. “Everything seems to be in order,” the officer said handing the paperwork back.

The wind picked up making it difficult for Jessica to return the contents to the pouch. As she turned to place them in her purse, a face and hands appeared in the window over the side porch. “There’s someone in there,” she gasped pointing to the location.

 

So there you have it. Potential? Maybe. Time will tell. For now it’s keep NaNoWriMo-ing. Plenty of time for improvement in the coming months.