Here’s my snippet from a short story I just started. It’s really, really raw:
“Those look fantastic,” Holly Blumenthal said, eyeing a plate of her sister’s chocolate chip bon bons.
“It was simple,” Ivy said. “I used a cake mix, baked the cake, made balls out of them, and dipped them in chocolate.”
Holly tasted one. “I’m in heaven.”
Holly looked at her sister, who looked like their mom, with long, wavy black hair, a petite frame, and luminous brown eyes. She took after their dad, tall and thin, with short brown hair that never curled, and blue-gray eyes. They shared an apartment, but were as different as could be. One thing they agreed upon—they both loved baseball, and the hometown team, the Cincinnati Red Wolves. They also loved their cousin, PI Elton Blumenthal, and the December holidays. They’d invited Elton and his girlfriend, Franci Jacobson. Elton had promised to bring some Red Wolves ball players to the party, but Holly knew they’d notice Ivy first.