Wednesday, August 8, 2012

It seems to be Wednesday, doesn't it?

It started out Wednesday and look at that--it still is!

As it happens, I'm still behind on everything I do. Sorry about that. My little bird, Baker, got tangled up in nylon thread. It was a real mess. It was from, of all things, the tag on his cage covering. His kind of bird--he's a Green Cheek Conure, love to take things apart, especially if there's string involved. Cotton's not so bad since it deteriorates after awhile. It's also much weaker when it frays. Nylon is a different story altogether.

Both of his feet were wrapped in it. It took quite some time to unravel it, and there were a couple of threads we couldn't get off without hurting him. They're beginning to come off, but he's doing some of that, himself.

Back to the book world, I've redone the parts of Rainy Day Lover that I didn't like--but I got stuck on it for a little while. It might sound odd to some folks, but it was hard for me to pick up again because it reminded me so much of my guy.

Anyhow, I'm moving along. I wanted to mention, A Roaming Heart, which is a free read I'm doing on Torquere Press' Happy Hour's Journal. It's only four chapters in now, and I hope I can make it interesting as well as somewhat unpredictable. I'll post the first chapter here--you can let me know if you want the rest, along with a new chapter. Otherwise, I'll keep it for the Journal.

So, here's Chapter 1 of A Roaming Heart:

Lucian Constantinescu smiled down at the old woman tucked beside him, patting the frail hand resting on his forearm. For several minutes, the two stood in silence, an island of calm as parties ebbed and flowed in the rooms behind them.

Time spent with his kirvi--his godmother--was precious to him, not least because he'd had so little of anything that passed for familial love in his lifetime. His people were by necessity nomadic. When he was still very young, his tribe had been unfortunate enough to cross into a disputed area. That mistake of chance had cost the lives of his parents along with the most of his extended family. 

He, as well as the few other survivors, had been held in a camp, ultimately to be scattered among other camps, and fed into various government systems. After he reached his majority, it became Lucian's goal to find the one person he was sure had survived, the closest thing to a grandmother that he could remember. They had been reunited for little more than a year, but it seemed as if he'd always known her. That familiarity was a balm to his soul, especially now.

The sound of a door opening somewhere down the long veranda broke the stillness of velvet darkness. More than one party was reaching its zenith in this exclusive hotel, as evidenced by the raucous music and cheering. The closing of the door cut the noise immediately, but the moment was lost.

"Something is bothering you, my Luca," the old woman observed quietly, her voice clear in spite of the revelers' noise. "Please tell me what is wrong."

Gathering her a little closer, he steered her toward a nearby bench. "It is nothing, truly," he assured her, though his voice was heavy. In her shoes, he wouldn't have believed him either. "It has to do with Mason," he finally confessed.

"Mason?" she queried. "Do you mean the young man who works with you?"

"Yes," he answered simply, keeping his eyes fixed on the night. 

"He is here somewhere," he added, sweeping an arm widely to indicate the luxurious hotel and the parties in progress.


"I expect I'll have to withdrawal from our partnership." He kept his voice low, and miraculously, steady. "Our job is too dangerous to do with my…handicap."

When she didn't respond, he turned, looking into her eyes, allowing her to see the turmoil within. "Ah, my poor Luca," she murmured. "Such pain. Such a heavy burden to carry alone. Are you certain you cannot share it with him?"

He wished he could reveal himself to his partner, but he couldn't. Mason Ford was a ladies' man, and a finer specimen of All-American heterosexuality would be hard to find. 

If the attraction was only about his looks, things would be easier. There were an abundance of attractive, muscular men with caramel colored hair and dark blue eyes, additionally including, no doubt, a firm jaw and full, sensual mouth.

Unfortunately, Mason was also a good man, his insatiable libido notwithstanding. He lived by his convictions, was more than good at his job, was open-minded, and in short, the most endearing man that Lucian had ever loved and hated…or hated to love, as the case may be.

No, his partner couldn't help him here. Luca was on his own.

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