DELETED SCENES FROM JAMIE 3
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As you know, as I’ve explained many times before, Jamie 3 gave me so many headaches. I have 11 different versions of the first third of the book on my computer. Some are completely different from the others, while some are slight variations. But in all, this is by far the most rewritten book I’ve ever done.
What happened was, I always knew where the story would end, but there were so many different ways I could have my characters reach that ending and I wasn’t sure which way I liked best. In some versions, Jamie teams up with Mr. E. to try and get her memories back. In some versions she teams up with the government. In other versions she’s on her own, and still, in some she finds the other Visticorp subjects and teams up with them.
I’d start out writing the story one way and I’d get about 100 to 150 pages in and then decide I didn’t like it, or it wasn’t working, or that a different way would be better. So I’d scrap the pages I’d written so far and start over. I’ve got more deleted scenes for this book than any book I’ve ever written. In fact, if I were to compile them all into their own book, it would be longer than the book itself. (Now do you see why it took me 4 years to finish this one? lol)
Anyway, I figured it would be fun to sort of show you some of the different deleted scenes, but it was hard to find some that wouldn’t confuse the heck out of you or give away spoilers. I finally decided on a cute scene where Jamie and Ryan meet up. Then I realized I had like eight different versions of this scene. I’m going to post three of them just for fun so that you can see some of the different ways this novel could have gone. You’ll see some similarities through them all and some vast differences. And if you try to figure out all the plot things in each scene you may just give yourself a headache, so don’t try. lol.
As for which version of this scene is closest to the one that actually ended up in the final draft…you’ll just have to read the book to find out!
Version A: From a draft of the manuscript where Jamie teams up with Mr. E. (AKA Blake Edwards) at first to try and find answers.
My list of superpowers doesn’t end with the ability to manipulate electricity. Along with the superspeed I used to break Blake out of prison, all of my physical senses are amped up—sight, sound, smell, taste, strength, and agility. Basically, I’m somewhere in between Captain America and Superman.
Most of the time its awesome being me, but sometimes my powers can overwhelm me. I’m used to the world coming at me in epic proportions, and I’ve got some control over my powers when I focus, but I can’t ever completely shut them off. Sometimes I get headaches or bouts of nausea when the world around me is too stimulating.
With all of its sights, sounds, and smells, New York City is the most over-stimulating place I’ve ever been, but it’s so worth it. On my list of likes, shopping and clothes are both near the top. I love fashion and appreciate beauty.
Blake was right about me when he said I was a sucker for the clean-cut pretty type. I definitely have a weakness for good-looking, groomed, well-dressed men. Maybe that’s why I’ve never been able to develop any romantic feelings for Tony. He’s cute enough that he could pull off the geek-chic look if he tried, but his idea of “well-dressed” is jeans and Ed Hardy t-shirts.
Blake, I was happy to learn, had a fashion sense worthy of his handsome features. He happily let me drag him into some of the nicest men’s clothing stores in the city and never complained when I piled outfit after outfit into his arms. Maybe he was just enjoying his first day of freedom in over two years, or maybe he liked shopping as much as I did.
We were in our third store and Blake was in a dressing room with enough clothes to keep him busy for half an hour. I was on the hunt for a good blazer to go with these killer jeans we’d found him when the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I’m not sure if it was some kind of girl-with-a-secret sixth sense, or just Tony’s paranoia rubbing off on me, but I knew I was being watched.
Could Visticorp have found us already? But how?
Pulse pounding, and my electricity on standby, I glanced across the store at the dressing rooms and took a breath. Blake was fine.
I scanned the room while listening for anything out of the ordinary with my superhearing. The only thing I found was a boy, maybe about sixteen or so, watching me as he pretended to peruse a display of pants. I startled him when I caught him looking at me, but he quickly flashed me a guilty smile. The kid was just checking me out.
I laughed at myself. I was going to lose my mind.
The boy picked up the first pair of pants he could get his hands on and held them up against his body. “What do you think?” he called out to me. “Sexy?”
I raised an eyebrow at him and took a moment to look him up and down. He wasn’t a bad looking kid. Average, I’d say. He had brown hair, brown eyes, a light dusting of freckles on his arms. I bet he did just fine with girls his age. The confident smile and the Australian accent worked for him. The pants he was holding however…
“I’ve never been a fan of skinny jeans, personally.”
“Now that is a real shame,” a smooth voice behind me said with a chuckle, “because you would look amazing in a pair of tight jeans and some tall boots.”
I whirled around, startled by the nearness of the voice, and almost bumped into the broad chest of a guy around my own age. All I could do was blink up at him.
Move over Matt Damon. I’d just found my new poster child for gorgeous! The guy was around six feet tall, with golden blond hair and big, beautiful eyes that I instantly found myself lost in. It wasn’t just that they were the color of a clear blue sky; it was the way they drank in the sight of me as if they’d never seen anything more beautiful.
My mystery flirt was looking at me as if I was the goddess Aphrodite and had majestically enslaved his heart for all eternity. The longing in his expression was truly startling.
“Hi,” he breathed. He sounded as if he’d had the air knocked out of his lungs.
I took a step back, unnerved by this guy’s reaction to me. He may have been hot, but he was clearly insane too. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that,” I warned him. “I could have killed you.”
The guy snapped out of his trance and surprised me with a cocky smirk. “I’m pretty sure you could never hurt me.”
It was playful banter, not an insult, and it made me smile despite all my efforts to keep the scowl on my face. “Don’t think so?”
“Nope. You’re too attracted to me. You’d rather kiss me than kill me.”
Was this guy for real? His ego was the size of Manhattan, and yet I was drawn to him. Before I realized what I was doing, I leaned in close to him and looked up at him through my lashes. We weren’t touching, but our faces were only inches apart. “And what if I could do both at the same time?” I whispered.
Mr. Ego gulped, and then licked his lips as he stared down at my mouth. “Pretty sure it would be worth it,” he mumbled.
I almost kissed him. The guy was a total stranger and I was seconds away from jumping him right there in the store. What was wrong with me? Never in all my life—or in the year I could remember of it at least—had anyone had such an affect on me.
Version B: From a draft where Ryan had teamed up with the other Visticorp subjects in order to track down Jamie.
“Don’t do it!”
I whirled around at the sound of the unfamiliar voice. Blake spun too, confirming that I hadn’t imagined it, but there was no one there.
“Who said that?” I demanded. I didn’t think anyone would answer, but I still felt compelled to ask. “Who’s there?”
“A friend,” the voice said. “Don’t destroy that equipment if it can really help us find others like us.”
Blake and I glanced at each other. The voice had come from somewhere near the back door of the house, but there wasn’t anyone standing there. That’s when I realized that the voice had said others like us.”
There was someone else like me here! Someone who could make himself invisible! He sounded like Hugh Jackman—or rather Hugh Jackman if the Wolverine were going through puberty. He didn’t seem like a threat. I was dying to know who he was, where he came from, and how he found me, but the only way he could know I was here was if he worked with Visticorp.
My body responded to the threat automatically. My energy has always responded to my emotions. When I feel threatened or angry, it kicks into high gear. It rises to the surface of my skin essentially giving me a whole lot in common with a live electrical fence. Anyone who touches me when I’m amped up like that is in for a nasty surprise. The weirdest thing about it though, is that my hair goes crazy and my eyes start to glow. Neon green tornado hair and glowing yellow eyes…it’s really freaky looking.
Going into super mode gave me a burst of energy despite my concussion.
“Show yourself!” I demanded.
I could hear the smirk in the boy’s reply. “Turn off the psycho supergirl stuff and I will.”
Yeah, right. That was so not happening.
I concentrated on the spot where I’d heard the voice. I couldn’t see anyone, but there was definitely someone there. I pushed past the ache in my head and concentrated on my other senses besides sight. I could hear his heartbeat and whoever he was, he was wearing enough cologne to drown a cat.
Trusting my instincts, I moved without warning. I tackled the open air and felt a thick body crash to the ground with me. He still hadn’t shown himself, so I gave him a friendly nice-to-meet-you jolt of electricity.
“Jamie, no! Stop! He’s a friend!” a new voice shouted.
Startled, I looked toward the sound…and nearly swooned, but not from my head injury.
Move over Matt Damon, I’d just found my new poster child for gorgeous! The guy who’d shouted at me was about my own age, around six feet tall, with big broad shoulders. He had golden blond hair and big, beautiful eyes that I instantly found myself lost in. It wasn’t just that they were the color of a clear blue sky; it was the way they drank in the sight of me as if they’d never seen anything more beautiful.
I let go of the invisible boy, who had already materialized beneath me, and sat back to catch my breath. My gaze immediately went back to the drool-worthy stranger. When we made eye contact, the look on his face changed from concern to one that turned my stomach inside out. He was looking at me as if I was the goddess Aphrodite and I had just magically enslaved his heart for all eternity. The longing in his expression was truly startling.
“Hi,” he breathed. He sounded as if he’d had the air knocked out of his lungs.
He took a step toward me and I quickly scrambled back. Hot or not, I was unnerved by this guy’s reaction to me.
For a brief second Mr. Beautiful’s smile faltered, but he recovered quickly and grinned down at the kid I’d fried who was still lying on the ground. I say kid, because that’s what he was. Sort of. He looked that way standing next to Mr. Beautiful anyway. He couldn’t be more than sixteen. He was a little stocky with brown hair, brown eyes, and a light dusting of freckles.
The boy groaned as McDreamy helped him to his feet. The hottie chuckled. “Stings, doesn’t it?” he asked the kid. “I told you she wouldn’t hesitate.”
I gasped when I realized these people knew me. Or, at least Blondie spoke like he was familiar with me. I’d already decided they couldn’t be with Visticorp because they would have just shot me with tranquilizers by now like they had Tony. But how could anyone else know me?
My defenses came back up. “Who are you people?”
They both flinched in surprise. “Amnesia?” the boy guessed while the hot one gasped.
“Of course! Why didn’t I think of that?”
The news seemed to make as much sense to him as it had to Blake. That meant this guy must have known more than just my identity. He knew me on a personal level. I hated that I had no idea who he was. I glared at him and asked again, “Who. Are. You?”
It was Blake who answered. “They’re friends, Jamie.”
I cut Blake a sharp glance. His voice sounded defeated and his face was grim. “You don’t sound too excited to see them,” I pointed out.
He sighed again and gestured his head toward the hot stranger. “Say hello to Ryan Miller.”
I had to think a minute before I placed the name. The guy met my eyes again with that disconcerting intensity he’d first looked at me with and I finally got it. The emotion I saw in his eyes now made sense. This hottie was in love with me.
I gasped. “You mean this Ryan Miller?” I asked, holding up the engagement ring on my right hand.
Ryan flashed me a smile so bright it was nearly blinding. “The one and only.”
As I sat there gaping at him like an idiot, he closed the distance between us and grabbed onto my hand as if to help me up. A surprising surge of pleasure rocked through me when our hands touched. I nearly gasped from the warm tingly sensation. It was shocking! I mean, not, like, actual sparks. I hadn’t literally shocked him, I didn’t think, but I was stunned by my reaction to him. Yeah, he was the hottest guy I’d ever seen, and yeah, I knew he had a major thing for me which both terrified and thrilled me, but even still. I was not the kind of girl to go completely gaga over a guy.
I know I didn’t make any kind of face as I climbed to my feet, but Ryan smiled at me like he knew exactly how fast he’d made my heart was flutter. I tried to pull my hand out of Ryan’s and step back but Ryan wouldn’t let me go. He brought my hand up between us and gently pulled off the engagement ring I was wearing. “You’ve got this on the wrong finger, Sunshine,” he said and slipped it on the ring finger on my left hand.
Version C: From a draft Where Jamie is completely on her own and Ryan has teamed up with Carter in order to find her.
I fled to New York City. The reporter who claimed he’d been kidnapped by Visticorp and rescued Chelsea’s Angel worked for CNN in New York City. The men who’d attacked me at Gran’s had called me Angel. If I was Chelsea’s Angel, and I’d really saved this reporter’s life, then hopefully that meant I could trust him. It was a huge risk, and probably a mistake, but I needed help and was out of options.
I felt on the verge of collapse by the time I got to New York. My head had stopped bleeding, but I was seeing double, my mind was sluggish, and I’d thrown up several times since escaping Coyote Falls.
I crashed onto a bench outside CNN’s New York office and dialed the number I found on the Internet for CNN.
“CNN New York. How may I direct your call?”
“I’m looking for one of your reporters. Dave Carter.”
“One moment please.”
There was a click and a ring and then, “Carter.”
He was in the office. There is a God. “Is this the man that was rescued by Chelsea’s Angel during the Visticorp explosion?”
When he answered, his voice was hard, suspicious. “Who is this?”
“Was that you?” I demanded. I didn’t have time to divulge my life story.
“In that case, you owe me a favor.”
I heard a gasp. “Who is this?” Carter asked again.
“I’m hoping you can tell me.” Big black spots started clouding my vision. I had to lie down. “Outside in the plaza,” I mumbled as my eyes fluttered shut against my will. “Bench next to the hotdog stand. I’ll be the unconscious one.”
Hushed voices pulled me from a dreamless sleep. “Ryan, your dinner’s getting cold, man.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“She’ll be okay.”
“It’s been nine hours. We should take her to a hospital.”
“You know we can’t. Whoever did this to her will be looking for her there.”
“No hospitals,” I croaked.
“Jamie?” Someone squeezed my hand and brushed the hair off my forehead. “You awake, Sunshine?” Whoever it was, there was a hitch in his voice as he whispered, “Come on babe, open your eyes for me.”
Maybe I wasn’t awake. Maybe I was dreaming.
I forced my eyelids up and had to blink several times to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating.
Move over Thor, I’d just found my new poster child for gorgeous! The guy was about my own age, with big broad shoulders, golden blond hair, and big, beautiful blue eyes that I instantly found myself lost in. It wasn’t just that they were the color of a clear sky; it was the way they drank in the sight of me as if they’d never seen anything more beautiful.
When we made eye contact, the look on his face changed from concern to one that turned my stomach inside out. The stranger was staring at me as if I was the goddess Aphrodite and I had just magically enslaved his heart for all eternity. The longing in his expression was truly startling.
“Hi,” he breathed. He sounded as if he’d had the air knocked out of his lungs.
I had no idea how to respond to him—his intensity was unnerving—so I didn’t say anything. I sat up very slowly, taking inventory of my body one limb at a time. I felt stiff, my throat was dry, and I had a massive headache, but I felt stronger than I had before. The nausea was gone too, which was a plus.
Another guy sat in a wheelchair near the foot of the bed. He was kind of cute I supposed, though nowhere near as good-looking as the guy sitting next to me. He had a decent enough face but he was a little too meaty for my taste. His neck was thick and his biceps were huge. I guess since he couldn’t use his legs he felt the need to work out his arms twice as much.
“Hey,” he said, staring at me like he couldn’t quite believe I was really there. “How are you feeling?”
I glanced back and forth between the two strangers then finally took in my surroundings and gasped. The room I was in was Zen paradise. It made me feel like I was back at the really expensive day spa Teddy took me to once when he decided we needed to get couples massages. The furniture was streamline, the bed low to the ground and covered in a tasteful sage bedspread. There were potted plants everywhere, and a modern-looking fountain in one corner that looked like a rock stream and actually had a few goldfish swimming in the pool at the bottom. One entire wall was made of all windows that let in a ton of natural light. The rich, warm green and beige tones of the room made it feel earthy, homey. It was more than beautiful. It was breathtaking.
I looked from the perfect room to the gorgeous guy sitting on the bed beside me, staring at me as if I were the sun and the moon, and finally put the pieces together. “I’m dreaming.”
There was no other way to explain it.
Mr. Beautiful laughed. “I promise you you’re not,” he said then leaned in like he planned to kiss me.
I scrambled out of the bed before he could touch me. “Whoa, okay, asleep or not, there’s this thing called personal space, buddy, and you’re totally abusing it. Touch me again and you’ll learn what a TV dinner feels like.”
Shock flashed across the guy’s face, followed by a look of hurt. “Jamie?” he asked.
This wasn’t fun anymore. I felt my panic start to rise again. “Why are you calling me that? Who are you? Where am I, and where the hell is Dave Carter? I called Dave Carter.”