Archive for August, 2019


Today was a little break from all of the work crazy for me (though one of my teammates went in to the office today, and I was there yesterday). I went with a friend to the gemstone show we enjoy every year.  That was good and bad. Good, because it is a brief respite from work and chores. Bad, at least this year, because one of our favorite vendors wasn’t there, which was disappointing. It meant we had to work a bit harder to find some of what we wanted. But we also discovered a new vendor with very pretty (and not very expensive!) things at her booth. I had a hard time deciding between two rings, one with my birthstone and another with tanzanite. The birthstone won today, but the tanzanite is in my future, because it turns out this designer is only a short drive away from home, so I can go see her when I am ready for the other ring.

Tough choice, yes?

Our day off as a much-needed break, and now I’m trying to gear up for the next two days at the day-job, when things will likely be mostly out of our control and insane. So I have a little writing to do, and maybe a little reading before I call it a day and try to sleep a full night before two really long days. Before I do that, I have a little story snippet to share with you, this week from my first shifter story.

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He didn’t want to spook her, not so soon, but he pulled her as near as he dared when they stepped onto the dance floor, setting his free hand on her hip to guide her steps, and she put her own free hand on his shoulder.

She smelled good. Something vaguely citrusy, and, beneath that, Tessa. He inhaled deeply, rubbing his thumb across the back of her hand.

She shivered.

The song, and therefore the dance, wasn’t nearly long enough, but Harley knew not to push his luck when she stepped back at the end of it. Warm color tinted her cheeks, and she didn’t meet his gaze. “I really do need to get some sleep, Harley.”

“I did promise, didn’t I?” He consoled himself with the notion that this was only his first move in what would be a very long game.

He didn’t even protest when she remained mostly quiet for the drive back to the house in the dusky summer evening. They walked into the house in silence. She shot him a curious glance when he continued at her side up the stairs. “Thank you for feeding me, Harley,” she said when they reached the first landing.

“No problem.” He touched her elbow, and she resumed walking along the hallway to the guest room she always used.

She swallowed as she turned to face him.

He gave in to the urge to brush a strand of hair away from her temple, and watched her eyes widen, surprise darkening them.

Harley bent nearer. Her hand shot up, so his mouth ran into it. He lifted one eyebrow.

“What are you doing?” Her voice quavered just a little.

He smiled against her palm, enjoying the warmth of her skin. “Kissing you good-night. It’s customary at the end of a date.”

Her eyes widened still more. “We’re not dating.”

He kissed her palm. “I believe we just returned from a dinner date. Dancing and drinks.” He inhaled her scent, and his desire kicked up a few more notches.

Her throat worked as she swallowed, color tinting her cheeks. “I think this is a bad idea.”

He stifled another smile at the way her voice shook and instead flicked his tongue out to taste her skin.

Her breath caught.

“I think it’s a fantastic idea.” He nibbled his way across her palm to her thumb. “You taste good. I can’t wait to taste your mouth.”

Her breathing resumed, much faster now. “Harley.”

He caught her hand and eased it to the wall beside her head as he closed the distance between them so only an inch separated their lips. “Yes, Tessa?”

Emotion swirled in her wide green eyes. He scented her burgeoning arousal in the air, and his body tightened in response.

He waited several heartbeats, watching her gaze slide to his mouth, and noted the way her tongue flicked out at the corner of her lips. Then he ducked in to kiss her.

She tasted better than he’d imagined. Warm and sweet. Her lips parted easily under his, but he deliberately kept the kiss light. She was already spooked, wary. If he dove in head-first, she’d run away fast.

Not that he doubted he could catch her. Easily.

When he finally lifted his head, her eyes were shut, and her lips parted and wet. Tempting him to bend back and take them again. Just briefly. Then he released her. It took a few seconds before her lashes fluttered up, and her hand slowly dropped to her side.

Harley banked the urge to press closer. The scant space between them already had his senses reeling. He waited until her eyes cleared slightly. “Sleep well, little Tessa,” he said softly, taking a step back. The cooler air flowing between them did nothing to dampen his arousal.

Or hers, judging by the flush on her face and the wild pulse beating in the hollow of her throat. She swallowed hard and reached behind her for the doorknob. “Good night.” It came out a hoarse whisper.

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Now I’m going to go work on another story, maybe find some supper, take the rest of my lone day off for the weekend. I just have to get through the next two days of insanity, and then a (hopefully!) easier day Wednesday before I have a long weekend to write. Are any of you facing a really crazy work-week, too? Are you doing something fun today to help you get through it? Or just barreling onward?

 

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( To Do – Depositphotos )

I think I may have mentioned how busy we are at the day-job this month–our busiest week of the year is coming up in the next ten days or so, plus we have team members on vacation (I started that last month myself when I went to the conference, and I absolutely feel everyone should use their vacation time!), and our team is short-handed on my side by one person, so we’ve been doing a lot of juggling. And I’m about to toss an unplanned day off into the mix for a family funeral. I don’t feel bad about going to the funeral, though I do feel bad that I’m taking off in a week like the one we’re facing at work. But I had already planned on some weekend hours next week, so I’ll make up for it.

The past week has been non-stop busy at work, too, so my brain was pretty fried by the time I came home Friday evening with Chinese take-out to go with my mango daiquiris. I intended to write yesterday. Then life happened. So even though my brain is still fried today, I’m getting ready to go write anyway. Any words I manage to get on pages might be complete crap, but I’m going to do it anyway, because it’s doubtful that I will get many durint the week ahead, between extra time at the day-job and family things.

On a lighter note, the weather here is slightly cooler, almost like Mother Nature is teasing the end of summer (finally!), and I have a billion tomatoes in my garden. Okay, maybe not a billion, but more than I can eat to keep up with them. Time to start freezing tomatoes for soups and sauces over the winter, plus I’ve started taking some into the office to share. Honestly, the fresh vegetables and fruits are my favorite part of summer. Okay, my only favorite part of summer, because I hate the heat and humidity.

Maybe a winter story snippet to cool things down in case it’s hot today where you are, this time from my fourth shifter story.

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Laney flushed, dropping her shirt. It was silly to be self-conscious when he’d already seen her naked more times than she could count. Stupid. Taking quick breath, she unfastened her jeans and gave them a shove past her hips, along with her panties. Not looking at Anton, she stepped out of the pile of her clothing, and Shifted.

She padded down the snowy steps and into the yard, relaxing.

Until she felt a nudge at her hip. She whirled and found a big tiger. Anton. His tiger was beautiful, green-eyed and strong. He nudged her side again, and she realized he wanted her to go that way. She brushed him lightly with her muzzle before turning to go where he wanted her.

She walked for a few moments, then broke into a run. She hadn’t run in such a long time. But it was safe here. Had she been in human form, she would have laughed with the sheer joy that filled her. Instead, she put her head back and howled.

* * *

Anton trotted after Laney, chuffing when she howled. He let her lead the way, pausing sometimes to examine their surroundings, running until she needed to catch her breath, rolling in the snow.

Gods, she was beautiful, whether in human or wolf form. And he sensed this was the first time she’d fully relaxed in a very long time.

A blob of cold, wet snow hit him in the face, and he narrowed his eyes, focusing his full attention on her again.

Laney Shifted, pushing to her bare feet as she scooped up a handful of snow, deftly shaping it before she lobbed it at him, laughing.

For a second, he froze, snow sticking in his fur, and then he Shifted, too, launching himself at her.

Laney laughed and dodged to her left, but he still caught her waist, tumbling her down into the snow again. She shrieked, and he laughed, putting his face into the side of her neck.

“It’s cold, Anton.”

“Should’ve thought of that before you hit me with a snowball,” he muttered, licking her earlobe.

She gasped, then he inhaled sharply when she plopped two handfuls of snow onto his bare back. Laney laughed again, and he lifted his head.

Fuck, she was gorgeous.

His mate.

Her smile faded a little, and she swallowed hard.

Anton shifted so he was fully over her, so her warm belly cradled his erection. A quick burst of her arousal scented the air between them, and, still holding her gaze, he lowered his head to brush his mouth over hers.

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Now I’m going to dredge up some new words from someplace. Who else’s week is going to be insanely busy? What are you planning for a few moments of quiet and sanity? I could use the ideas.

 

 

I would actually say those two bins are about even, and they both look like the work bin in the cartoon above. My problem this week is a serious lack of motivation. It isn’t because I don’t want to get things done. More like there are too many things that have to get done, and there are a whole lot that are equally important, and I can’t choose where to start.

Part of the problem might be that last month was a really good month. It was busy, but good busy. This month has started off on the crazy-busy side at the day-job–it’s vacation season: while I was away, one of my co-workers also started her vacation, then right after I got back, another started her vacation, so there have been two of us for a couple of days doing the work of five (did I mention we’re actually short one person on our team right now, too?). There I don’t have a choice but to keep my head down and keep things moving. It’s the rest of the to-dos in the Life bin that I am having difficulty working on. My brain is pretty well fried right now after the day-job, which makes it harder to find the desire to do more.

One of my two vacationing co-workers will be back this week, and the other late next week. That will be good. In the meantime, I could really use some ideas on how to get it together. What do you do when there is too much to do, and not enough brain-power or motivation to do it all?

Before I go try to get a little something done before I crawl into bed, I have a little story snippet for you, from Hunting Medusa.

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“Get off, Harvester,” she whispered.

“Stop calling me that.” He hated hearing it from her lips for some reason. Yes, it was what his name meant. It was what he was destined to do. But the contempt in her tone… He didn’t like it at all.

As though the Medusa had room to be contemptuous of him.

“It’s your name.” Her voice was stronger now, as if she’d somehow sensed his unexpected inner struggle. “Why shouldn’t I use it?”

“You won’t be alive long enough to worry about it.” He ignored her behind against his groin for the moment and took a slow breath, trying to remember his plan.

Get in, find her, kill her, get the amulet, and get out.

Well, his plan was not going very well at all.

He didn’t want to be the first Harvester in so many generations to finally find the Medusa and then fail at his job.

“Really?” She didn’t sound as worried as she should. “I’d have thought a big, strong man like you would have already done the job.”

So would he.

But something in him resisted destroying her.

“Where is the amulet?”

“The what?”

Kallan frowned in the dark. “Don’t play stupid. It’s hardly befitting one of your stature.”

“I don’t know what amulet you’re looking for.”

She didn’t sound as if she was lying. But how would he know? He didn’t know her, and ten minutes on her front porch yesterday afternoon hardly qualified him to make such judgments. He hesitated. If he killed her now, he’d have to spend time tearing up her house to find the goblet, and who knew where she could have hidden it? Or if she’d secured it somewhere else?

“Seriously, Harvester.” Her tone was even more confident now. “No amulet here.”

“You lie. I know the current Medusa always has possession of the amulet.” He tightened his grip on her wrist, but didn’t wrench it higher.

She sighed. “I’m not lying. I think I’d know if someone had sent me an amulet when Cousin Annis died. Instead all I got was PMS from hell and—” She stopped suddenly.

“And?” His heart beat faster, and he realized blood still pulsed steadily from his wounds.

“And a new tattoo,” she whispered.

“A tattoo?” He kept his grip on her wrist. “Where?”

She hesitated.

He pulled her arm upward again and heard her quick gasp.

“My back.”

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Now, if you all would share your ideas to get motivated when I’m exhausted, that would be fantastic. I would really appreciate a little help so I can knock some things off of this very long to-do list.