I actually don’t know what a “cold open” is, but it seemed like a fitting title for this blog. As some of you may know, I have been kicking around a few ideas for some novels, but haven’t done any writing yet. I’ve been doing some light research, but something happened recently and I have been inspired to write at least this opening scene.
Hope you like it. Please let me know what you think.
“Shit,” Sarah spat as she turned to get her bearings. The first wave had surprised her, but she dived under that onrushing wall of water with ease. She poked her head above the surface just in time to see a larger wave looming, ready to deliver its destructive cargo upon her lithe frame.
The ocean mocked her attempt to escape the second round of play as the wave crashed, driving Sarah into the sand before scooping her up as a child would a bug. Desperate for air, she squeezed her eyes closed as the wave propelled her back toward the earth, tumbling her head over heels twice before she was able to scramble to the surface.
She tore in a gasping breath and a mouthful of seawater as she kicked hard for the shore only thirty yards away. As if the ocean itself were out to get her, an alien riptide held her in place, sapping her strength as she swam as hard as she could.
Another wave broke behind her, its roaring exhalation of laughter reminding her that she was nothing but a plaything to the vast and powerful ocean. She exhaled her thanks into the misty air as whitewash surged around her, the wave dissipating. That one, at least, had failed to assault her, even pushed her toward the shore for a few fleeting moments before the current returned to impede her.
She squinted in confusion, giving up on her furious overhand strokes for a moment. She had been coming to this secluded stretch of sand since learning to swim sixteen years ago, and this was the first time the current was even noticeable to her. Still gulping down breaths, she shook her head as she thought of a new approach. She was able to touch the ocean floor with her toes—one of the reasons she liked this particular beach was that it didn’t get too deep too fast—so she decided to try a half-hopping, half-swimming plan.
She advanced a few yards before the current picked up its pace, again stalling her. She struggled to regain her momentum as the familiar wet wheeze of a building wave boomed all around her. The current pulled harder as water rushed from around her to welcome and join the next mountainous upsurge.
In her twenty-six years of life, she had never been in mortal danger, almost never in real danger at all. She had always been able to keep herself out of harm’s way with a combination of dexterity, unfailing intuition, and no qualms about lying through a flirtatious smile, but it seemed none of those would help her now. Out of options, she swallowed her terror with a burning breath, forcing her fatigued body under the surface in a futile attempt to swim through the twenty-foot breaker.
