It was inspired by a long-time, and very dear, friend. I grew up at the race track watching my mother and step-father race. Step-dad was not only an unbelievably good driver, but a professional race instructor as well.
Anyway, when Kevin [friend] was in his late teens (and I was about 12), step-dad took him on as an all around protege. Kevin far surpassed all expectations - he's an amazing driver still, some nearly
He posted this video to Facebook last night, and it made me smile. It also made me remember that I really did love my first WiP (prompted entirely by my having grown up at the track). So I pulled the WiP out and read - for over an hour. After the vid, I'll post a short snip.
The crosswalk vibrated as the car flew underneath us. My fingers tightened around the railing, knuckles white, as I inhaled the sharp high-octane fumes. I closed my eyes, listening for the sound I knew would come in three, two…that shallow whistle of the turbo kicking on his acceleration in the back straight.
Finally, I exhaled.
My pulse quickened against my throat, and I opened my eyes to watch him take the hairpin, so snugly he must barely have moved the wheel. The grip my fingers held around the aluminum loosened, my hand automatically moving down against the cold metal just as he would be shifting to take that perfect line through the chicane.
I wanted so badly to be sitting beside him in that beautiful car, feeling every shift and hearing every roar as he redlined the tach.
Nobody had a chance against him on his home turf. Jess could win this one blindfolded.