Finally finished the world's most stubborn manuscript tonight. Sent it along to my editor who will be very happy to see it in the morning. :) I had meant to have it in a month ago (at least), but the story shifted on me. Twice. And I was helpless to shake it free until this week. So *big sigh of relief*--it's done. Put to bed. Finis.
Speaking of beds, I didn't let my fingers cool down before I started another story I'd been stewing about for a while now, whipped out 2K tonight (could probably write more but my eyes are burning). And it starts off with our hero getting woken up from a sound sleep by those words many adults know and dread:
“I threw up.”
The quavering voice brought Corbin jack-knifing up out of a sound sleep, struggling to get his bearings.
“Oh, for Christ sake.” This in a disgruntled mock whisper from Kenneth on the other side of the bed.
Well, that helped hone in on the participants a bit. And something was going to have to be done about Ken—soon—but first things first. He pulled Bailey into a hug, resting his cheek against her extremely hot temple. Oh man.
“Where’s your mom?”
“Don’t know. I threw up on my bed.” The tears were starting, and God knows that wouldn’t help matters any.
“Do you want to sleep with the throw up or should I change your sheets?”
A watery giggle. “Change them.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes! Uncle Corrry…”
“Okay, okay.” He stood, glad that he’d had the foresight to put his pajama pants on after he’d fielded the booty call that turned into a sleepover Ken probably wished he hadn’t insisted on. Picking Bailey up, man she was scorching all over, he walked her into the hall bathroom, trying to remember what his mom had done for them when they were sick...
Violet Oakley (June 10, 1874 – February 25, 1961)
12 hours ago