Snippet Sunday and Weekend Writing Warriors

Welcome to Snippet Sunday and Weekend Writing Warriors, your chance to sample the work of a talented group of authors. When you finish here you can find more snippets at:

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So far in my excerpts from Return Engagement my hero and heroine met on a beach ten years after his father broke them up. They find that all of their old feelings are still there even though she's engaged to another man. They've gone to a carnival together, and now they're walking back down the beach to their cars. He just gave her his jacket to wear and said he liked the idea of her wearing his clothes, like in high school.  They sat down on the sand to watch the moon, and both of them spoke at once. Elizabeth told him to speak first, and he told her she didn't really love her fiancé or she wouldn't have been flirting with and kissing him. Elizabeth just told him she can't stand it if he walks away again, and he tells her that it's taken 10 years, but they're back where they belong: together. Last week he asked to go home with her, and she said no. 

Everyone has speculated about whether Elizabeth will remain with her fiancé or stay with Richard. That's a valid question especially since involvement with Richard may carry a high price. I did a little creative punctuation.

The room was bigger than she’d expected; actually, it was a suite, not a single room at all. At one time it had probably looked very lovely, but now it just looked old and battered. Water-stained wallpaper peeled from one corner while the carpet underfoot was littered with some type of black, loamy substance, maybe dirt, maybe mildew. She didn’t see anyone, so she called, “Richard, where are you?”

No one answered, but she saw an interior door hanging from one hinge near the back of the room and decided to check it out. She took three steps into the quiet darkness before she finally realized something was wrong. Things didn’t feel right in this room; every nerve in her body screamed danger, and she seemed to have ice water instead of blood in her veins. She was getting out of here!

With a gasp she turned to run, but she had waited too late. A small man stood between her and the front door; he held an ugly, black gun that pointed straight at her.