Escaping into a new story

I've been seriously driving myself nuts with FAERIE. Emails back and forth to my cover artist, editing for stupid stuff and finding big stuff, and having to rewrite my TROLL teaser, well, something had to give.

So, of course, I started a new story. Well, actually it's an old story that I'm writing from scratch. Right now, I have no idea how I would shelve this book. There's romance, but it isn't a romance. There's a shifter, but it isn't a paranormal. It has a few nasty murders, so it might be under thriller or suspense. But I'm going with the evil scientist horror-type story. And if I'm lucky, I'll toss in a few kitchen sinks and a time travel into this mess--just kidding!

Anyhoo, this is what I wrote to escape faeries, goblins, and other assorted fantasy creatures. No title yet. Shoot, I don't even know if this is Chapter One or a Prologue.

Later, Peeps!

I woke up naked.

That in itself wasn’t anything unusual, but the heavy duty metal box I was in was different.

Wind whistled through the small barred windows, driving winter’s cold even deeper into my bones as I huddled in the back corner of what I could only call a cage.

Two feet high, two feet wide and three feet long, the box definitely belonged in the cage category. I never thought I’d be thankful for being on the shrimp side of the measuring stick, but I was today.  It was a snug fit. I hated to think how they would have to grease me up to get me out if I was any bigger. I supposed I’d be squealing like a pig.

How did I manage to get myself into this mess?

My head pounded like I’d been on a drinking binge . . . for days. Thinking about anything made me want to barf. My teeth were chattering so much that I bit my tongue and the metallic taste didn’t do much for my nausea.

Hell, I couldn’t even remember my name.

Freaking out right now would be bad, real bad. I had to hold it together.

First, escape. Then revenge. I would get whoever did this to me. I wrapped my arms around my knees and rocked back and forth trying to keep warm. I had to escape. But how?

The box was pretty solid-looking with nice beading on the welds.

How in the hell would I know about welding?

Studying the box confirmed there was no way out except for the door. I could fit my hand through the bars, but that wouldn’t get me anywhere. And the door was padlocked on the outside. I could hear the lock thump every time the bastard driving this truck hit a pothole. 

And there were a lot of potholes.

Dust was kicked up and swirled behind the truck, coating everything. The glance I shot out the window confirmed I was in the bed of a rusty pickup truck. But that was all I could tell before trees flashed by and I almost puked on myself. The stench in this cage was bad enough that I didn’t have to add my own special contribution to the mix.