Saturday Status 2/22/14

Hel­lo! Stay­ing warm out there? It’s been so windy around here, but like they say, if the wind ever stopped, the whole pop­u­la­tion would fall over.

Work in Progress News ~ I wrote a new chap­ter one, because my MCs have zero chem­istry. Now there’s chem­istry but the premise is bor­ing. Ugh! I’ve got them both open now, try­ing to decide what to do. This writ­ing stuff is hard, y’all! Maybe I’ll work on some­thing else until some­thing comes to mind. My back burn­er has like 15 flames going by the way.

Favorite Song of the Week ~ This is from my favorite B52 album. She Brakes for Rain­bows:

Tweet of the Week ~

Indus­try News ~ I got noth­ing. Any news out there?

What I’m read­ing ~ The Dev­il of Kil­martin is not my usu­al read, which is one rea­son I picked it out of my TBR pile:

As the chief of the Lach­lan clan, Symon MacLach­lan vows to pro­tect the fiery-haired lass whose gen­tle touch relieves the demons claw­ing at his soul. Despite her fierce denials, he is cer­tain Ele­na is the leg­endary Lam­ont heal­er — and cer­tain that he must have her for his own.

Lov­ing the author’s voice! And there are kilts, so…

Today’s Tear­jerk­er ~ Because I can’t watch enough of these

Book Snip­pet ~ From Wyoming Solace:

What can I do for you, Mr. Camp­bell?” She spun around to face him, clutch­ing the bed sheet to her chest. With­out pause, he cov­ered the dis­tance between them with two steps. He stud­ied her upturned face for only a heart­beat before he pulled her by the shoul­ders against his body, crush­ing the sheet between them. Her damp shirt had chilled her chest, which only empha­sized his warmth.

Stunned, she blinked a few times to cen­ter her­self. Yes, a man’s body pressed against her, the for­eign scent of tobac­co and cof­fee fur­ther evi­dence that this was indeed hap­pen­ing.

She gripped his shirt­sleeves to keep from melt­ing into the grav­el. When the sit­u­a­tion did sink in, her entire body tensed, indeed her inter­nal organs con­strict­ed, and her mind began the famil­iar retreat from real­i­ty. If she sep­a­rat­ed her­self, it wouldn’t hurt.

His hand, hot against the small of her back, crushed her against his ribs, while the oth­er moved around from her back up to her rib cage and to the out­er swelling of her breast.

His thumb test­ed the firm­ness, and her mind zigzagged, caught between fear and…something else. Some­thing inex­plic­a­ble tried to draw her out. Some­thing in this assault enticed her to par­tic­i­pate. She fought the temp­ta­tion. She wouldn’t relax; she couldn’t embrace this. It would turn ugly at any moment. Although, for some rea­son she couldn’t fath­om, her hands weren’t restrained in any way. Still, she wouldn’t even think about push­ing him away. It was safer that way. She wouldn’t want to anger him. And there was some­thing about the pres­sure of his fin­gers against her, the way he caressed with­out mov­ing, that intrigued more than fright­ened her.

Cody dipped his head, only to brush his lips against her ear. “My name is Cody…”

Okay, since this book is set in Wyoming, imag­ine those sheets on the line blow­ing and whip­ping around until they’re shred­ded, and these two yelling to be heard over the roar and squint­ing against the dust that’s fly­ing… Oh…sorry…that’s not very roman­tic. I’ll just leave it as is.

Whadd'ya think?