From my WIP The Hanging Tree. In this snippet the MC, Angelica, is experiencing a dream of a past life. This ties into a journal her daughter was given. In it is the writings of a woman who lived in a local Manor built in the late 1600's.

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I wasn’t particularly tired. I grabbed the journal to read a few more entries. Drifting off to sleep, I heard a voice.

“Who are you?” A redheaded woman asked. I assumed she was speaking to me.
“My name’s Angelica.”

I found myself in what seemed like a kitchen or dining room with a large hearth at its center. The woman was grinding herbs with a mortal and pestle.

“You’re not going to tell are you?” she asked.
“Tell? Tell who and what?” I looked around and saw in the reflection of a glass cabinet that my long hair was twisted up in a bun. It’s usual tawny color was brown, and I wore a woolen dress that reached the floor. The fabric irritated my skin. I held a long cloak in my left hand. The young woman wore almost an identical garment, but the fabric looked finer.

“I have to get these herbs ready, the lass down the road is going to have her baby any day. Are you the woman Abby told me about from the neighboring village?”
“I…uh…yes. Abby sent me. Jenny is going to have her baby?” I placed the coat down on a chair and walked toward the fire to warm up. My hands and feet were cold and I noticed melting snow on the floor near the front door. The winds howled outside, but the house was warm and smelled of dried herbs and blueberries.

“No. Jenny moved to South Carolina. I’m so glad you made it, especially in this storm. There’s already a few inches of snow on the ground. Poor Abby came down with a fever, she said you were the best healer in your village.”

My eyes widened as I looked over to the young woman. “I…I try, people tell me I do help them.”
“And you’re so young to be a mid-wife.”

I stood there staring at the fire. I had no outward response, but fear settled in my bones. My mind rushed in a million directions.

Was this a vision, or a dream?

I haven't done a teaser this week due to the fact that I have no clue what WIP I want to focus on. There are approximately four to chose from. The weather has been fantastic for writing--all gray and gloomy--yet I cannot get motivated. Probably when the sun comes out I will be flooded with inspiration. Go figure.

In a perfect world, an ass-whooping would be at the expense of your enemy. Nicholas’s lips sponsored tonight’s foray into “Fists Gone Wild”. The beating was courtesy of his pal, Dex.
“I’m warning you, Nick. Knock it off,” Dex uttered.
“Or what? You know what they say about you?”
“I’ll knock your pearly whites down your throat.”
“You and what…”
Dex slammed his fist and connected with Nicholas’s face. Had Nicholas not gotten into the bottle of ambrosia, his reflexes would have been better. If he’d stayed away from the booze, he wouldn’t have made such a stupid crack to his friend.
Nicholas was also too drunk to realize he should’ve stayed down. He had been a glutton for punishment since he was a little boy. A scrapper, his mother called him. Others just called him a masochist.
“You motherfu…”
Another connection between Dex’s fist and Nicholas’s face was made.
“You’re just pissed about Noelle. I had nothing to do with that,” Dex explained.
“Enough!”
Nicholas recognized that voice. It was Skyler.
“Nick. Get the fuck out of here before I kick your ass.”
He tried to grab the bottle of ambrosia, but Skyler was faster and sober. Nicholas mumbled a few obscenities, headed for his new car, and took off to the bar.
As soon as he walked into the club that night, Nicholas realized he should have taken a table in the secluded VIP section. Instead, he sat at the bar. He wasn’t feeling very social. His body ached to either beat the shit out of someone, or have the shit beaten out of him, again. Through his ambrosia haze, he wondered about these feelings. They were happening more frequently, along with a sudden rash, which would sometimes cover his whole body. A new and odd reaction he suffered from. It first happened when the Almighty forbade him to see Noelle. His skin turned lobster red, like humans after a day in the sun.
The Almighty was the queen bitch in charge. She oversaw all of the angels in the particular hierarchy known as the Brotherhood of Light. Her other job description included watching over the humans and fucking with Nicholas. And the best way to get at Nicholas was to take away his rights as Noelle Spencer’s guardian. In addition to making his skin turn red, that decision made his blood boil.