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Genre: Literary Fiction
About PresqueNoireLocation: Missouri Home Region: Age:21 Favorite novels: The Time Traveler's Wife, The World According to Garp, Lipshtick Favorite writers: John Irving and Mary Higgins Clark Favorite music: I'll have to do some hands-on research to tell you. Non-noveling interests: Cooking, traveling to francophone countries, and foreign languages. |
Joined: novembre 15, 2008 This Year: Official Participant NaNoWriMo History: NaNoWriMo posts: 60 NaNoWriMo buddies: 12
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Brief Author Bio: I'm new to this, I work in law enforcement. I love my job. I'm A Law and Order addict. I miss my time in Africa. :) I hope to use it as inspiration. |
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Synopsis: Out of Her Place
Struggles of a female cop in St. Louis, Missouri in the year 2030 after the Iraq War has ended, the American Economy has collapsed, and a new era of Prohibition has begun. Congress has basically taken over every aspect of daily life from the people, including the new USFAP. STD's and AIDS have boomed significantly, which sparked then need for some kind of restriction on sexual activity, which lead to USFAP--United States Fornication and Adultery Policy. The production of alcohol and tobacco products has been forcibly ended, because healthcare is government controlled, and so these habits are too expensive.
The MC is a female GPO (Gov't Police Officer) created to enforce the new laws concerning private behavior, adherance to clothing and appearance regulations, and the other petty laws that are now in effect. Corruption is widespread, however, because no one, not even the GPO's, really want to comply with the laws. The MC has her own issues, with her marriage, her job, and her past.
Excerpt: Out of Her Place
10FEB2021
0240
She couldn’t do anything but just look at him.
His chuckle stuck in his throat a little, and he leaned forward, into the steering wheel. His fingers grazed the black leather of the steering wheel, and the car lurched as it went into gear, starting to laze forward. Jake’s grey eyes just looked ahead, concentrating on nothing in the distance, that funny smirk playing across his lips. He leaned back, shook his head, shook off the conversation they had been having. The tension dispersed as they rolled out of the clearing, the gravel crunching loudly into the silence, the blackness that watched them. The dashboard numbers, that neon green, glared at her. 02:41. She wasn’t tired, though. Halfway through shift and still reeling by the topic left behind in that dark clearing, that empty clearing so full with new meaning, now… No, she was nowhere near tired.
12AUG2028
1148
Gisele looked up into his eyes, searching. The droning she heard irritated the edges of her consciousness. She looked to him for wisdom, for inspiration, for consolation. Even a wink. Nothing. He was not stoic, but he refused to look at her. He had to be scared, which was not comforting. He was supposed to know what to do, how to make this work. He was the older, wiser one out of their partnership… And he was terrified. She narrowed her eyes, concentrated. It was like reverse meditating, like magic—enough focus, and things would happen. His hands were wet dishrags in hers, about to slip out of her grasp and fall by his sides. He seemed to have no energy in him, and yet, she should have been the scared one. She was the one ensconcing herself in a tomb, here, in this chapel on this day in time, while a baby silently grew within her, while the pastor droned in the background, and his hands almost slipped through hers.
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