My dad never visits me. I always have to go to his house. So, yes surprised is like an understatement. *Takes a breath* Now, I'm supposed to make cookies this weekend with my friends, come home on Saturday evening, and grocery shop, clean, and wrap gifts. AHHHH! Who signed me up for this???
Needless to say, I've been carrying around a clip board of all the things that must be done before tomorrow. Yeah, when I clean, I'm the weirdo with the checklist. It's the only way I get everything done. Oh, and did I mention that I have a Critique to do? And thanks to my wonderful writing friend Sheri who sent me a book, I will try reading during my vacation with children. Yes cause holidays=holiday breaks with not only your kids but the neighbors and sleepovers and popcorn wars. which means more cleaning. I'm also outlining a new wip, not to brag or anything but it's a pretty good one. Here's a sample of it:
While I study the raindrops trickle down and spider off into another direction, a dark carriage replaces the grayish green background behind the liquid dotting the glass. My tired, achy body pulls away from my desk and moves toward the front door.
Inhaling deeply, my callused fingers grip the metal handle, turning to open my home to the visitor. Blanched knuckles drop, while a black hat tips and water pours off the brim, landing on my rug. “Evening, Jackie. May I come in?”
I move slightly and let the handsome knight enter. “I haven’t been home for more than an hour.” I eye him as his smile turns to a frown. “Try not to get everything all wet and slopped with mud.”
He shrugs off his coat and hat while I shut the door. Cocking his head toward the fireplace he laughs, “No fire?”
“What’s the point, Lance? As soon as I return home, the king sends one of his finest to order me right back into battle.” It comes off a little bitter, but it’s the truth. I barely have time to wash away the blood off my clothes and they show up, carriage and all, to drag me off to another assignment.
Lance looks back and smiles. “Guess you shouldn’t have planted those beans.”
My grueling mistake is a joke to everyone in Beantown, everyone but me. Damn that peddler and his beans. They wrote a tale about it, but they made the hero a guy not a girl. I guess normal girls would scream and run from a Giant, instead of kill it.
Lance hangs his coat and hat on the hook near the door. A small sack jingles from his belt while a sword mirrors the opposing side. His leather boots stomp across the wooden floor toward me. His broad shoulders and dazzling hazel eyes have me mesmerized for a moment. I clear my throat, “So, did you come to collect the head?”
With a sigh, he takes a seat at my kitchen table made for two and tosses a bag full of coins down. I eye the gold spilling from the top and then glance back at Lance. He runs a hand through his long brown locks and breaks the awkward silence forming between us. “There’s your cut.”
As many times as Lance has been coming to my door, dropping off sacks of money he’s never sat down at my table. He’s never tossed down a bag and had the current look he’s giving me---lips are set in a frown, eyes puckering. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” He smiles.
“Something is troubling you. You look like a dog died.”
He shakes his head. “No dogs died today. You just…you had me worried, Jack. It’s been a month and it usually takes you two weeks to slay a Giant. I thought…never mind.”
He thought I was dead. A week ago, I thought I was too. This Giant was by far the hardest one I’d ever had to put down. At one point, the beast caught me, shook me, then tried to squeeze the life out of me. But that’s where the monster failed, for I stuck my sword right through his Adam apple. Blood sprayed, and it gurgled on its own life source seeping out of him like a long flowing red river. Eventually the Giant fell to its knees and I ripped my sword out and then finished the job by chopping off his head.
For the blog, Sorry I haven't posted often. Will be posting more in the start of January :) Happy Holidays everyone.