Sunday, April 23, 2017

Sunday Snippet: Underfoot

Well, my youngest attended our local prom last night and she looked so beautiful. I'm always amazed I had a hand in creating my kids. They're good people. J

Gotham returns Monday! I'm pretty excited for the final half of this season. Also looking forward to having my CW shows back with new episodes. And the summer TV fare isn't looking too bad either.

My work schedule is jammed and I love it! I like to stay busy, even when it cuts into my writing time. I could live with about four more hours each day, but I'm getting a lot better at managing personal with professional.

Tonight's post is from Underfoot, a novella that got a writing community prompt beginning. One character is a reclusive writer struggling with their latest novel; the other is a beautiful / handsome stranger that shows up when their car breaks down. What a kick-ass scenario!

Here's the mini-blurb:

Nona Rack, a footloose artist and Jane of all trades, breaks down beside reclusive author West Wentworth's house at two am during a blinding snowstorm. The cranky writer lets her stay, even though she's underfoot, and before he knows it, he's discovered a new muse.

And a snippety peek…

West Wentworth snarled at the interruption. A quick glance at his watch showed the time to be two a.m. Who the hell would disturb him at such a late hour? Didn't matter. The last chapter sucked balls. He couldn't get a handle on his newest heroine and his frustration showed in the prose.
Another series of knocks sounded and he got up, stalking through the house to answer the door. Whoever waited outside, better have a damn good reason for being there.
Throwing the deadbolt, he yanked the heavy oak slab inward. Icy air swirled around him and he blinked. Jesus, when did the weather turn so crappy?
A huge coat stood in front of him. A parka with faux fur trim, hiding a face with an upturned nose. The nose caught his attention followed by the cupid-bow lips. Words swirled in his head and he committed them to memory.
Slender fingers pushed the hood back, revealing a little more of his visitor. Dark hair, clear green eyes. He blinked again, hoping like hell the vision in front of him didn't turn out to be a hallucination.
She launched into an explanation. "Sorry to bother you, especially at an ungodly hour, but I slid off the road and my car is stuck." She tilted her head up a little to meet his gaze. "I'm pretty sure I won't get anyone to come out until this blizzard lets up." The wind picked that moment to bluster, spraying both with icy pellets.
West quirked an eyebrow. "What do you want me to do?" No way would he be pushing a car anywhere in this weather.
She studied him a moment. "Allow me to impose and let me stay until morning?" She rushed on. "At least until I can get a look at the damage." Her lips twitched. "I swear I'm not hiding an ax under this huge coat." She patted the front down then wiggled back and forth.
She shoved her hood all the off. He resisted the urge to picture what she looked like without the hulking jacket.
And, hell, she looked harmless enough. He stepped back, inviting her in with a sweep of his arm and a frown. The timing couldn't be worse with his deadline looming and no finished manuscript.
He waited until she brushed past him before speaking. "Fine, you can stay. But don't expect me to entertain you." He closed the door and turned to find her removing her coat and toeing off her boots.
She flashed a grateful smile. "No problem. A place to plant my ass is all I need." Moving by him, she placed her footwear by the door and swung her parka on the coatrack. "Nona Rack, by the way. Thanks again." Her hand shot out in front of him.
West took her palm in his. "West Wentworth." He definitely noticed her ass when she nodded and turned to move further into his home.
He shook his head. Too long without a woman, buddy. He stepped up, grasping her elbow and directed her into the den—a leather-infused nightmare left over from his dad, but it had a murphy bed she could sleep on. He tugged the latch to lower the frame to the floor.
She took everything in without comment, helping to fluff up the pillows.
He grabbed an extra blanket from the back of the sofa. "Bathroom is down the hall to the left, third door on the right." Soaking up the pleasing picture she made, sitting on the edge of the mattress, he reined in his imagination. "There should be linens in the closet if you want a shower in the morning." He started toward the door.
She rose, following him. "Thank you. Seriously. I won't get in the way and I'll try to be out of here as soon as possible." She paused at the threshold. "Um… good night."
His lips curved upward. "'Night." He stared at the door longer than necessary after she closed it.
Oddly rejuvenated, he strolled to his office and sat down, his fingers hovering over the keyboard only a moment before words starting pouring out.
Maybe a late night visitor wouldn't prove to be a bad thing.

Honestly? I'm having a load of fun writing this. There's a chance it's not going to go in exactly the direction I originally planned and I love it when that happens.



That's it for this week. Happy reading!


Skylin

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