WEWIWA #8SUNDAY

​Welcome to Weekend Writing Warriors, the weekly hop for everyone who loves to write! Sign up below with your name, blog and email and share an 8 to 10 sentence snippet of your writing on Sunday. Your post needs to be live between 12:00 noon on Saturday 04/02/16 and 9:00 AM on Sunday 04/03/16. Visit other participants on the list and read, critique, and comment on their 8sunday posts.
Spread the word, share the love, warriors. Twitter hashtag #8sunday. 

---

My contribution this week is from my work in progress, The Tree of Life, Book 2 of my Illuminati series. Kirin, the protagonist is an MD, PhD, research geneticist, who is breaking into a research lab owned by their greatest enemy who fund a demented terrorist faction. They are attempting to steal "back" a botanical ingredient needed to complete a genetic mutation that will save the human race from...well, let's not get ahead of ourselves.  Oh, and did I mention it's her first meeting with her love interest, as in she falls as in actually falls head over heals for the love of her life? 

"Stop pushing me, Luc," Kirin whispered.​         

Slipping past Andrew’s grasping hand and darting under Luc’s arm, Kirin ran around the corner, elbowed the guard in the throat, snatched the pass card clipped to his pocket before he landed face-down on the floor at her feet, and slid it through the reader. She reached for the door handle and gasped.

Dangling a full foot above the marble-tiled hallway, she gritted her teeth and kicked backward. A grunt sounded and she grinned. Her satisfaction was short-lived. She was carried over the threshold and unceremoniously dropped. Landing with the dexterity of a cat, she curled a strand of red hair behind her ear, ignored her brother’s soft sound of irritation behind her, and glanced around the lab. Seeing an environmentally controlled storage unit, she signaled for her brothers to check out the doors on the other side of the lab while she hurried toward the samples storage room. 

Wheels spun, a chair whirled into the aisle and a startled white-lab-coat-clad man half-rose to his feet only to have Kirin trip over them and then over him until her momentum and his momentum carried them both down the last three feet of aisle where the swirling chair toppled, wheels still spinning, and deposited the scrambling and tangled arms and legs, his confused and hers angry onto the sterile, polished floor.

---

And that’s it.  I hope you enjoyed it.  Visit my Weekend Writing Warrior friends here.