WIP Wednesday

Wow, Wednesdays seem to roll around super-duper fast these days. Which is worrying considering that's a whole week in the blink of my eye. However, success this week: counting what I've written tonight, I will have written a whopping TWENTY pages in the last seven days. Eeee! Very squiggly happy with that achievement.

So, I have oodles to choose from for your snippet, and I've chosen this. Enjoy!

Releasing an angry breath that she hadn’t even realised she was holding, Charlie swayed her arms out to the sides, shaking them a little. Enough of this foolishness. She’d told Jax and Laurel that she’d meet them at the bar that was little more than a ten minute walk from her house. Her aim had been to shake them off completely, but then Jax had got that gleam in his eye, the one that screamed Coward! Charlie was unable to back down from him, a fact that she continued to marvel at.

And appreciate.

No way did she want to be the eight hundredth notch on his bed post. It was much better to be cool and calm and in control – especially when she was his boss. That kiss that he’d stolen had nothing to do with going tonight. That supposed point-proving kiss that she’d barely resisted giving back was an aberration, a dig at her self-control. Or that was what she suspected anyway.

She didn’t believe that husky note of desire when he’d said her name or entreated her to kiss him back. Jax was a consummate player. She’d seen his smiles, his looks, the way he’d move his body so a woman would have to be a fool not to notice that he’d be a stallion in her bed.

Silence punctuated the air until the next song burst from the speakers. Phil Collins warned her not to let him steal her heart away. Charlie closed her eyes, then glanced upwards. “If anyone’s watching, I hope you got a kick out of that,” she said aloud.

WIP Wednesday

Not a very happy bunny at the moment due to yet two more rejections from that publisher I told y'all about a while back. Still, got some good, healthy comments about both MSs that someday in the future I'll go back to.

But enough! WIP Wednesday is making a triumphant return due to the fact that I actually wrote today. Three whole pages, which when you're used to writing exactly zilch, is momentous! Anyway, on with it. Here's this week's optimistic snippet:

Charlie. Now there was his next puzzle to solve. A riddle inside an enigma, trapped inside a sharp metal box that bit whoever tried to lift the lid. And yet…

Today he’d seen something. A weakness. A side to Charlie’s personality that wasn’t what he expected. Hell, that he didn’t even like. Since the day he’d sauntered into her shop, falsely believing that she’d fall into line like every other female, she’d surprised him. Shocked him. Irritated and aggravated him. But all the while, a part of him – a hidden part – had respected her for it. And now…

It wasn’t that he now didn’t respect her. But the loss of authority – of what he had deemed her very personality – had made him take a second, even closer look. Charlie Donahue was not what she appeared to be. She bore all the tools of a defensive, snappish woman: case in point, the hideous clothes she wore. Nobody would even dream that she was trying to attract male attention in them. But maybe that was the point?

A Monday Quickie

Just a quick post today!

I baked cookies yesterday, but they came out as little cakes because I'd run out of caster sugar and only had golden caster on me. Surprisingly it makes a difference. Still, very, very nice. And because I'm alone in the house at the moment, that means they're all getting gobbled by moi. Fatty fat fat here. Table of one. But you know what? Don't care.

Also, really obsessed by this historical romance series by Mary Balogh at the moment - the Slightly series. I just read the first three in the last two days and am about to move onto the next with a pair of glazed eyes and a little twinge of a headache. So, so good. I really recommend them. The first wasn't as good as the next two, but her writing style has such a fluency and wit to it that you can't help but be glued to each page.

And, finally, I have a new favourite advert! If only this would happen in real life....

Status: Crazy obsessed with Mary Balogh, but have sunk willingly
Reading: Slightly Tempted by Mary Balogh

An Update on Absolutely Nothing

So sorry I haven't been posting lately, but the sad truth of it is that there isn't much to tell (post)! Life has been grinding along as it normally does. Here is my day: Get up, eat, go to work, eat, maybe get some writing in, go to bed. There may be a few more "eat"s in there too, but I don't want to look like a pig ;0P

I have the house to myself for two weeks, starting today, and I couldn't be more thrilled about it than if you stuck me in a cannon and sent me rocketing to the stars. (Hmm, too much reading going on today if that's the metaphor I come up with!) I know that that could be construed as being amazingly anti-social - without the violence - but what can I say? I'm a writer, I live inside my own head anyway. The only thing that changes when people aren't around is that I talk my thoughts instead of think them. One day that is really going to embarrass me...

In preparation for this two week freedom-fest, I bought - wait for it - twenty two new books to read and a few films to watch. Yes, self-indulgent and silly. But ask me if I regret it. Nope. In fact, as soon as I'm done here, I'm snuggling down with Sherrilyn Kenyon's newest. Squee! I love new books and it's a treat I haven't allowed myself in a long while.

What else? My laptop has broken again. Ha. I know. It's getting a tiddly bit ridiculous now, but at least it still works. All that has happened is that the corner bit next to the hinge has cracked, but I know a guy who can fix it. Or to be more specific, I know a girl who knows a guy. But whatever gets it done, right? Thank goodness for this age where another laptop is in the same house.

My subs are nearing the danger zone, meaning the deadlines. Romantic suspense is at just over 13 weeks, and paranormal romance is coming up to 11 weeks. The deadline is 16 for both. Eeek. I'm not very hopeful for RS, but as for PR, I gotta say, I have really high hopes. The highest. Dancing on the moon high. So fingers crossed.

Not much else to tell except for the fact that I also treated myself to a tiny tub of Ben and Jerry's apple pie ice cream. And it's for a legitimate reason: if I get a rejection in the next three weeks, I'll need it. And if I get an acquisition email, I'll need it. ;0P

Adios, muchachos!

Status: Calm, centered, and very chilled - or I will be when I can't refresh my email every ten seconds!
Reading: In a minute, Born of Silence by Sherrilyn Kenyon

WIP Wednesday

Buh-limey, it's Wednesday all over again. And I've done hardly any writing this week having felt a little under the weather. But there should be just enough to put in a teaser. Enjoy...

A gruff chuckle. “Not that it’s not great to hear from you, love, but is there a reason you’re calling? Something about that player you hired? Is he on his knees yet?”

A rueful expression crossed Charlie’s face as she sat up. “Not in so many words. I don’t understand him.”

“What’s not to get?”

“He’s hot, then he’s cold, he protects me, then he insults me. He sees through my smokescreens.” Charlie uttered a low, feminine growl. “And what’s more he’s always on solid ground while I’m the one desperately trying to balance.”

There was a long pause. Charlie imagined Samuel stroking his chin as he sat in his chair. She felt better confiding things to her grandfather; he always knew what to do.

“I don’t know what to tell you, kitten.”

Her jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”

When he spoke, Samuel’s voice was shot through with humour. “I think this man knows what he’s doing if he can unbalance my little girl. And if you can’t beat them with a stick, you’ll have to lie down and play dead.”

(P.S. Blogger's playing up with paragraphing again so sorry for the weird style!)

Poorly Doggy!

I am really rather sad at the moment. There are those of you who will think me mad or stupid, or both, but I'm used to being told that! My spaniel is poorly. She's limping, and very clingy - which is not at all like Ms. Antisocial - and won't go out for walks. Again, not at all like her. The vet says she has an arthritic elbow, and it's quite bad at the moment. So we have to try and stuff half a painkiller down her throat every day until she seems better. I hate it. I hate to see her so unwell.

If you don't have a pet who is like one of the family, it'll be hard to understand. My spaniel waits for me to get up every morning outside my door. She'll whine and scratch until I get up. She'll whimper with happiness when I get up. She is more than a pet to me. And I hate, hate, hate to see her so unlike herself.

Sorry to vent about something so unrelated to writing, but sometimes you need to splurge or explode. I choose to splurge! Hopefully, she'll be a little better tomorrow and my worry will lessen.

Oh, and the photo is actually her!

Status: A little worried, a little sad, a little disheartened.

Reading: The Corset Diaries by Katie Macalister

WIP Wednesday

Yay, it's Wednesday! So while it's pouring with rain outside, let's snuggle up inside with the teaser for this week. Without further ado, here it is:

A thought occurred. He slid a considering look to Laurel, lips pursed. “How about tomorrow night?” he asked in a measured voice. “I’ll be up-to-date by then, and will probably need a drink. Besides, it’s always useful to know where the good bars are.”

“Tomorrow night is perfect,” Laurel assured him, her words tripping over each other. “Tomorrow night is excellent.”

“What’s happening tomorrow night?” Charlie asked from behind Laurel, her eyebrows tilted up so that they disappeared beneath her bangs.

Jax congratulated himself on his timing, inwardly patting himself on the back. His grin had a bit of crocodile in it – all teeth – when he turned to Charlie. “We’re going out for a drink,” he told
her, eyes wiped clean of agenda. “Want to join?”

He heard Laurel’s tiny instinctive negative before she snapped her mouth shut. Charlie stared at him, eyes considering. She slid them to Laurel and then back to him.

“No, thanks,” she replied at last. She wandered through the doorway, pushing against Laurel’s arm until she moved it. Her body brushed against Jax’s, just the merest touch, as she passed by.

His stomach twisted.

Ignoring that peculiar response, he swivelled to face her. His eyes grew hot, challenging. A lazy smile made his mouth arc. “Why not?” he asked. “Worried you might let your hair down?”

She glared at him. “No,” she hissed.