The First Blush
Of love, that is. I've been struggling with a WIP for weeks, well, months, now. And while I'm in the middle of edits on Truth and Consequences, BAM! -- a new story pops up and just totally takes over my brain, effectively pushing the recalcitrant WIP to the side.
Go figure.
I've fought to get the bare bones down on the WIP, and the new story? The movie's in my head. The hero and heroine decided to show up, fully formed, like Athena springing forth from Zeus's skull.
Sat down last night to fiddle with the handwritten scenes I'd sketched out earlier in the week (yes, while I was supposed to be immersing myself in the evilness of the villain in Truth and Consequences but that's another story).
Wrote almost 2000 words in one sitting. Could have gone farther if the DH hadn't required attention (I did tell him not to get used to that -- when the Muse shows up, one must take advantage of her Cheeto-less state).
I have to admit I love the rush of loving a WIP, when I can't wait to get to the keyboard, when the ideas zing around in my head, the words ready to spew forth.
And because I'm dying to share the love, I'll leave you with a snippet for Angie and Fish's story. Remember this is a rough draft!
***
“Well, actually . . .” Bull rubbed a hand over his chin. “I hear you have some leave coming to you.”
Adam nodded. “Yeah, I’m due to start a couple weeks in two days and a wake-up.” A grin crept over his face. “What did you have in mind? I was thinking of doing some parachuting, maybe even head out to Cali for some surfing-”
“Actually, I’ve been talking with Harding.”
Bull’s quiet revelation sent foreboding shivering down Adam’s spine. Fear normally didn’t reside in his vocabulary, but he was actually scared of where Bull might be going with that line of thought. He shook his head. “You’re not-”
“Angie’s birthday is this weekend.”
Like he didn’t know that. Like he hadn’t planned his leave, looked for the craziest, wildest activities he could find, just to help keep the date and all its memories off his mind. Kuwait, when she’d turned nineteen and laughed with glee over the sandcastle cake he’d fashioned for her. Her twenty-fifth birthday, when he and Harding had flown all the way to Germany to surprise her, and those big brown eyes had lit with pleasure once she’d seen him. And her twenty-eighth, when they’d slipped from San Diego into Mexico, and he’d ended up kissing her against a rough stone wall in a dark alley.
Like he’d ever forget any of that.
“She’s officially finished with all the teacher training stuff, has her full certification, too. Harding was thinking it would nice to surprise her, get all of us together again.”
“No.” He shook his head. “No way, Bull. Forget it.”
“Man, what is your problem? You should be over this bullshit by now.”
“There’s no problem. No bullshit to be over. I have other plans, and I’m not changing them to go down to BumFuckingEgypt, Georgia to see a woman who-” He swallowed the words and their tinge of pained anger. Maybe he wouldn’t forget the memories, but she’d sure as hell forgotten him. “She wouldn’t want to see me, Bull. You? Hell, yeah. But not me.”
“You don’t know that.”
Two years without a word? Not a card or a phone call, not even a freakin’ email. How many times during the first six months she’d been gone had he seen envelopes addressed to Bull in her neat handwriting show up at the big house they’d all shared? How many phone calls had Bull taken from her, when he’d had to listen to Bull chuckle over what she’d said, and he’d had to grit his teeth to keep from asking how she was?
“I do.” He shoved to his feet and strode to the window. Across the parking lot, he could see the groups of recruits drilling on the green under the mild spring sun. He blew out a long breath, wishing Bull hadn’t shown up. In the last eighteen months or so, he’d found being alone was easier when he wasn’t reminded constantly that he was.
“Fish, listen.” Bull joined him at the window. Adam didn’t look at him. “I know you put in for another tour in Iraq. We both know what it’s like over there, that there’s the chance you won’t come back. Do you really want to leave with this crap still between you and Angie?”
Damn Bull’s huge hide. He never played fair.
“Maybe you weren’t listening. There is no crap between me and Angie.” He clenched his teeth so hard his jaw ached. “There is nothing between me and Angie Francesco.”
***
So what do you think?
Y'all have a great weekend!
Go figure.
I've fought to get the bare bones down on the WIP, and the new story? The movie's in my head. The hero and heroine decided to show up, fully formed, like Athena springing forth from Zeus's skull.
Sat down last night to fiddle with the handwritten scenes I'd sketched out earlier in the week (yes, while I was supposed to be immersing myself in the evilness of the villain in Truth and Consequences but that's another story).
Wrote almost 2000 words in one sitting. Could have gone farther if the DH hadn't required attention (I did tell him not to get used to that -- when the Muse shows up, one must take advantage of her Cheeto-less state).
I have to admit I love the rush of loving a WIP, when I can't wait to get to the keyboard, when the ideas zing around in my head, the words ready to spew forth.
And because I'm dying to share the love, I'll leave you with a snippet for Angie and Fish's story. Remember this is a rough draft!
***
“Well, actually . . .” Bull rubbed a hand over his chin. “I hear you have some leave coming to you.”
Adam nodded. “Yeah, I’m due to start a couple weeks in two days and a wake-up.” A grin crept over his face. “What did you have in mind? I was thinking of doing some parachuting, maybe even head out to Cali for some surfing-”
“Actually, I’ve been talking with Harding.”
Bull’s quiet revelation sent foreboding shivering down Adam’s spine. Fear normally didn’t reside in his vocabulary, but he was actually scared of where Bull might be going with that line of thought. He shook his head. “You’re not-”
“Angie’s birthday is this weekend.”
Like he didn’t know that. Like he hadn’t planned his leave, looked for the craziest, wildest activities he could find, just to help keep the date and all its memories off his mind. Kuwait, when she’d turned nineteen and laughed with glee over the sandcastle cake he’d fashioned for her. Her twenty-fifth birthday, when he and Harding had flown all the way to Germany to surprise her, and those big brown eyes had lit with pleasure once she’d seen him. And her twenty-eighth, when they’d slipped from San Diego into Mexico, and he’d ended up kissing her against a rough stone wall in a dark alley.
Like he’d ever forget any of that.
“She’s officially finished with all the teacher training stuff, has her full certification, too. Harding was thinking it would nice to surprise her, get all of us together again.”
“No.” He shook his head. “No way, Bull. Forget it.”
“Man, what is your problem? You should be over this bullshit by now.”
“There’s no problem. No bullshit to be over. I have other plans, and I’m not changing them to go down to BumFuckingEgypt, Georgia to see a woman who-” He swallowed the words and their tinge of pained anger. Maybe he wouldn’t forget the memories, but she’d sure as hell forgotten him. “She wouldn’t want to see me, Bull. You? Hell, yeah. But not me.”
“You don’t know that.”
Two years without a word? Not a card or a phone call, not even a freakin’ email. How many times during the first six months she’d been gone had he seen envelopes addressed to Bull in her neat handwriting show up at the big house they’d all shared? How many phone calls had Bull taken from her, when he’d had to listen to Bull chuckle over what she’d said, and he’d had to grit his teeth to keep from asking how she was?
“I do.” He shoved to his feet and strode to the window. Across the parking lot, he could see the groups of recruits drilling on the green under the mild spring sun. He blew out a long breath, wishing Bull hadn’t shown up. In the last eighteen months or so, he’d found being alone was easier when he wasn’t reminded constantly that he was.
“Fish, listen.” Bull joined him at the window. Adam didn’t look at him. “I know you put in for another tour in Iraq. We both know what it’s like over there, that there’s the chance you won’t come back. Do you really want to leave with this crap still between you and Angie?”
Damn Bull’s huge hide. He never played fair.
“Maybe you weren’t listening. There is no crap between me and Angie.” He clenched his teeth so hard his jaw ached. “There is nothing between me and Angie Francesco.”
***
So what do you think?
Y'all have a great weekend!
Labels: Linda's Posts
posted by Linda Winfree at 7:31 AM
8Comments:
Methinks, he doth protest too much.
Smitten, smitten, smitten!
Love it.
Oh, I love reunion stories!! This one's got lots of great potential for torture, I can FEEL it!!
Congrats on the love. I haven't felt that for a looooong time, but that's probably because the last two years I've spent revising old stories, not starting something new.
He is, Carol, and just too proud/stubborn to admit it.
Joan, I am so torturing him . . . in chapter one. I'm sure by chapter seven or so, I'll be hating the book, LOL.
OH but the torture is FUN. Love to see where you're going with this and what happened between them. It's fun to imagine who she is and how they got to where they are...
Thanks, Maggie. I like the torture, too! I may be posting snippets here as I work through the book. :-)
So when are you going to change your meter on the sidebar? It still looks like you're stuck in MOU hell.
LOL, Carol. Soon, I promise.
Sounds like another great start, Lin. :) Can't wait to see where this goes.
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