Okay, so I was on Flogging the Quill and Ray said he'd turn the page, but gave me a few great tips, and so did those who commented. I revised Surviving (below) and got another great comment.
One gal, hope101, said:
Definitely better in terms of clarity, but the reactions still are off for me.
Consider: she's running for her life, presumably prepared to jump off a cliff rather than face whatever's behind her. She'll be going fast, but she'll still have enough time to note *something* about the man. And she'll want to--at least enough to know whether he's an innocent bystander who should be running in his own right, or another permutation of the Big Bad.
If it's the former she'll be startled when he snakes out an arm to grab her. (I can't envision him wrapping her in his arms, given the pace.) If it's the latter, she'd probably swerve to avoid him.
Either way, if she has any spine, she should be giving him a royal ass-whooping right about now. :)
"Getting into Character" by Brandilyn Collins is a book that might help you slow it down a little. Good luck!
So I've added more detail, hopefully without losing the pace. Any thoughts on this new version.
I took off in a dead sprint. My heart racing to the point of pain. My Doc Martin combat boots seemed to weigh a ton, slowing me down. The thick air, full of moister, made breathing difficult.
I had to get away .
A man a few inches taller than me stood at the edge of the clearing, and I screamed, “Run!”
He looked behind him, then back at me.
“Run!” I yelled again, but either he was deaf or stupid. Crazy woman yelling run at me when she looks like she’s in a race for her life, I’m sure gonna run.
He just stood there, staring at me. He yelled something back, but I couldn’t make out what he was saying. Damn, maybe he only spoke Portuguese.
When I neared, he reached out, possibly to stop me. I darted to the side, instantly wishing I hadn’t. He grabbed my arm and we went over a cliff, hitting branches and rocks that jutted out from the side of the mountain.
Our screams tangled with the rushing water below.
The fall didn’t last long. I had just enough time to take a deep breath when we sliced through the twisted river’s surface.
He held on, pulling me up with him. My ankles ached and my lungs caught fire. He swam hard with the current, tugging me along. I pushed against him to free myself, but he grabbed for me.
“Let go,” I tried to say, but sucked in a lung-full of water.
He pulled at my hair and I relented, letting him and the river carry us further downstream. Away from the real danger.
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