The Party Killers [novel]

Emerson · 2008-03-04T03:05:29Z

Authors Note: Does this have enough hook? What impressions do you get of the characters so far? Anything else would be amazing! Chapter One Agatha looked dead. Her body was sprawled across the couch, with an arm over the edge, head cocked to the side and legs propped against the armrest. Really, though, she was staring at the ceiling. There was a stain that looked like blood. “I want to leave!” she growled. Agatha kicked her legs, a bit of her wondering if she could hit the stain with one of her shoes. It flew into the air then hit the ground. She took the other one off her foot and threw it at Kel, who was sitting at a table with a mirror propped up against the wall. The high heal struck him in the back and fell to the floor. Kel pretended not to notice. “I’m not ready,” he whispered. He continued to stick his fingers in his hair, then press it flat against his head. He was skinny and wore a stained suit, but what he hated most was the small piece of hair on his head that stuck into the air like a weathervane. Kel would have clipped it off had they any scissors. The disturbing red tint of the stain had convinced Agatha it was blood. She wondered who had been killed in her attic without her approval. “The party started seventeen minutes ago.” Agatha was irritated and made it apparent in her voice; it rang like a knife being scraped against plate. “You won’t die if we don’t leave immediately.” “I might as well die from how bored I am.” She was balancing a cigarette on her forehead. When it rolled off and onto the couch she decided to smoke it instead. “I look hideous,” Kel muttered. Despite that, he stepped away from the mirror and stood over Agatha. The smoke from her cigarette rose right into his face and made him sick. The smoke puffed out in strange bursts as she laughed. “You look beautiful.” Agatha struggled to speak; the words didn’t want to come out of her mouth. “Really, there is this glow about you that screams beautiful.” There was a big, blue feather sticking out of her hat. It waved at Kel as she continued to giggle. “Can we just leave? You’re such a spoil.” He moved Agatha’s legs and sat down on the couch. “I feel sick,” was all he said. The cigarette that dangled from her lip was dangerously close to being finished. She sat up and stuffed the cigarette into a shot glass on the floor. “Are you going to say that you don’t want to go to the party?” Agatha stared at him with an empty look. “Because I don’t care.” She dug in her purse for another cigarette and, ignored him. “I don’t want to do it again, Agatha.” She laughed. “You are so pathetic.” “I’m having nightmares.” “I know a doctor who could fix that. His name’s Mr. Al Cohall.” She sheltered the cigarette in her cupped hand and lit it. Cigarettes were the only thing she treated with real love. Kel sighed and stood. “You could be nicer about it,” he whispered, as he gathered her shoes, “considering how much I do for you.” He put them in her lap, then sat back down. “ While she slipped her shoes on, Agatha made Kel hold her cigarette. “You could be nicer, too.” She snatched the cigarette back and smoked it down until the embers nearly burned her fingers, then pushed it into the cup with the other cigarette. “I haven’t asked you once to pay me rent, have I? I’m giving you a place to stay. If you want, I could kick you back out into the ally where I found you.” “Then what would you do?” Kel picked up the glass she had been using as an ash tray. The smell that came out of it was the worst part; it was a mix of rot and cigarette smoke. The ashes had fallen apart all over the bottom of the cup, and he could see a burned, disgusting butt from months ago. Agatha got up and leaned on the doorpost with a drawn out, sarcastic look. “I could find someone else. If you were dumb enough to join me, then there are others.” He ignored the insult. “Are you ever going to clean this?” Kel showed her the inside of the cup. “I think something is growing inside of it.” Carefully, as though the thing living in it might jump at her, Agatha peered into the glass. She shrugged. “If you’re so worried about it, clean it yourself.” On the way out of the house, Kel set the glass in the kitchen. The reasoning was that if the glass was closer to the sink, it might have a better chance of being cleaned. He knew it would probably stay there for a few months, accruing more cigarettes and filth around the rim. Kel wanted Agatha to clean up after herself for once.

Hey Suze, as I said before, that cover really made me want to read this. And I don't know if you've changed this or what but this was a delicious literary experience. The dialog was free, funny, and flowing. My favorite three F words. When I was reading this I kinda got that Moulin Rouge meets black and white movies feel. It just has this old and sultry air around it that makes me want to just dim the lights make a cup of tea, curl up in a chair and indulge myself into a great book.
My favorite part:

The disturbing red tint of the stain had convinced Agatha it was blood. She wondered who had been killed in her attic without her approval. “The party started seventeen minutes ago.” Agatha was irritated and made it apparent in her voice; it rang like a knife being scraped against plate.

It was funny and it gave me a sense of what type of character Agatha is.

I wish you all the luck in writing this. Though I'm sure you've written fifty other chapters to this marvelous story.

Ta for now,
~Angel

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