Someone asked me recently where the title for the third book came from. Since "from my brain" wasn't answer enough, here's a snippet to explain:
Viola settled back against Duke’s side and tucked her head against his chest. The steady beat of his heart under her ear grounded her like nothing else on earth. “Those who oppose my father call me the Mistress of Mercy.” She dug her elbow into his ribs when an image of her dressed in a leather catsuit and wielding a whip filtered through the link.
“Pay attention, gutter brain.”
“Yes, mistress,” Duke purred, lips pressed against her temple.
“Those who follow Dad call me the Mistress of Malice.”
“Nice to see alliteration transcends battle lines.”
Her lips twitched. “Yeah.” She blew out a sigh, let her eyes fall shut. “Thing is, I think they’re both right. I don’t feel like an angel of mercy or the destroyer of worlds. I feel a little like both.”
Duke’s arm tightened around her shoulders. “You’ll find, sugar, that the truth behind most myths lies somewhere in the middle.”
Viola’s nose crinkled. “Could you not channel Tom when we’re snuggling?”
Showing posts with label snippets. Show all posts
Showing posts with label snippets. Show all posts
Sunday, July 8, 2012
Saturday, January 14, 2012
Date night with Duke and Viola
From Mistress of Malice and Mercy
Sighing in disgust, Duke glanced out the window. He caught a glimpse of sand-colored fur and a short, bushy tail. “It’s a dog.”
“Dogs do not set off my radar. Not even Mrs. Pagillo’s nasty Jack Russell.” She stroked her big toe along his hairy calf. “Come on, it won’t hurt to take a look. Besides, you know ignoring your duty like this is just going to give you heartburn later.”
“It’s moving away from the parking lot. My FN is locked in the car.”
“I have a Glock 26 Gen4 and one of my birthday daggers.”
Duke’s eyes fell to the miniscule silver clutch on the edge of the table. “There is no way you have a Baby Glock in there. I have my doubts you even managed to fit a stick of gum in that thing.”
“Oh, it’s not in my purse.” A slow, satisfied smile spread across her face at the way his nostrils flared and his pupils dilated. His hand rose to signal the waitress. “If you’re a very good boy, I’ll show you later.”
“Good? I thought it was bad boys you had a thing for, sugar.”
Viola smiled apologetically at the waitress while Duke signed the credit slip for their appetizers and drinks. Once she was out of earshot, Vi hooked her fingers into the crook of Duke’s elbow. “I admit I have a Tracker fetish. All the more reason for you to move it, buster. Let’s see if your shoulder really is healed enough to stop using the sling.”
“Sweetness,” he sighed warningly, “you called Doc Luna and the therapist. They both told you that it was fine.”
“I’ll be watching you.” She tapped the side of her head. If she felt even the slightest twinge of pain from him, she was going to wrestle his arm back in to the sling.
Sighing in disgust, Duke glanced out the window. He caught a glimpse of sand-colored fur and a short, bushy tail. “It’s a dog.”
“Dogs do not set off my radar. Not even Mrs. Pagillo’s nasty Jack Russell.” She stroked her big toe along his hairy calf. “Come on, it won’t hurt to take a look. Besides, you know ignoring your duty like this is just going to give you heartburn later.”
“It’s moving away from the parking lot. My FN is locked in the car.”
“I have a Glock 26 Gen4 and one of my birthday daggers.”
Duke’s eyes fell to the miniscule silver clutch on the edge of the table. “There is no way you have a Baby Glock in there. I have my doubts you even managed to fit a stick of gum in that thing.”
“Oh, it’s not in my purse.” A slow, satisfied smile spread across her face at the way his nostrils flared and his pupils dilated. His hand rose to signal the waitress. “If you’re a very good boy, I’ll show you later.”
“Good? I thought it was bad boys you had a thing for, sugar.”
Viola smiled apologetically at the waitress while Duke signed the credit slip for their appetizers and drinks. Once she was out of earshot, Vi hooked her fingers into the crook of Duke’s elbow. “I admit I have a Tracker fetish. All the more reason for you to move it, buster. Let’s see if your shoulder really is healed enough to stop using the sling.”
“Sweetness,” he sighed warningly, “you called Doc Luna and the therapist. They both told you that it was fine.”
“I’ll be watching you.” She tapped the side of her head. If she felt even the slightest twinge of pain from him, she was going to wrestle his arm back in to the sling.
Monday, September 5, 2011
Sometimes it is Rocket Science snippet
I know, I know. Mistress of Malice and Mercy is what everyone is waiting for, but I've been working like a fiend on Sometimes it is Rocket Science, and I do hope that y'all love this project as much as I do.
Here's a snippet from a mid-book chapter:
“Is Ken sleeping?”
Georgiana whirled around with a hand pressed to the fluttering pulse in her neck. She hadn’t heard Robert’s approach. “Jesus,” she panted, “I’m going to put a bell on you.”
“I’ll leave the collar to the four-legged residents, if it’s all the same to you.” Robert stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans and leaned against the doorjamb across from Georgiana.
“I was thinking more along the line of elf shoes.” Her lips twitched. Her eyes fell to his bare feet. “You know, the pointed, floppy ones with the big bells on the curled ends?”
“Perhaps you should get some sleep, Georgiana.”
“Can’t. Things to do.” Georgiana scrubbed at her gritty eyes and rolled her tense shoulders. “Monday and Tuesday I’m booked up with meetings. I need to discuss Hayes with the board. I haven’t looked over Ken’s physics project like I promised. Dan’s coming home soon, and I want to make sure everything’s perfect for him.”
“You need to take a break before you burn out.” Robert crossed the width of the hallway with one step. He cradled her jaw with a warm hand and brushed his thumb across the dark shadows under her eyes. “You won’t do Ken or Dan any good if you make yourself sick. Besides, a fresh mind will allow you to see things with a new perspective.”
Her eyelids drifted closed. She instinctively leaned towards his warmth. The spicy tang of his possibly-pheromone laden aftershave wrapped around her like a thick, downy comforter.
“Take a break with me, doll.” Robert’s voice dropped in pitch and lost the smooth veneer of refinement. The gravelly tone with its slight twang was the voice she remembered from their childhood. “Relax a little. Unwind. I’ll open a bottle of wine. We’ll watch a movie or one of those science shows you set NORA up to record. Whatever you want.”
“Mmm.” The tension built up at the back of Georgiana’s neck and across her shoulders melted like butter in a hot frying pan. Her palms itched with the need to pull him closer and bury herself in his arms. It was easy to understand why he never lacked for female companions.
“What do you say?”
“I say…” Georgiana reluctantly slipped out of Robert’s light embrace and inhaled sharply to clear her muddled head. “I say I need a small glass of Baileys and a slice of chocolate cheesecake.” When Robert’s face fell, she sighed and linked her fingers with his. “There’s enough for two.”
“Thanks, doll.”
In the kitchen, she filled two glasses with ice while Robert retrieved the Irish cream from the wet bar in the formal living room. Rather than divvy up the cheesecake and dirty plates, she left the quarter cheesecake on its plate and handed Robert a fork. The cool, sweet Irish cream was perfect with the firm, decadent chocolate cheesecake.
“Not usually how you spend a Saturday night, huh?” Georgiana dragged a forkful of cheesecake through a puddle of chocolate sauce. She hooked a foot under the rungs of her barstool and scooted closer to Robert. She spun the tablet computer near his elbow around and pressed the button to turn it on.
“It’s no charity gala or champagne-soaked soiree, but it has its perks.” Robert winked, popped a piece of crust in his mouth. His toes slowly brushed across the sole of her left foot. “Especially when it comes to the company.”
- - -
Hope y'all have a great (short!) workweek!
Here's a snippet from a mid-book chapter:
“Is Ken sleeping?”
Georgiana whirled around with a hand pressed to the fluttering pulse in her neck. She hadn’t heard Robert’s approach. “Jesus,” she panted, “I’m going to put a bell on you.”
“I’ll leave the collar to the four-legged residents, if it’s all the same to you.” Robert stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans and leaned against the doorjamb across from Georgiana.
“I was thinking more along the line of elf shoes.” Her lips twitched. Her eyes fell to his bare feet. “You know, the pointed, floppy ones with the big bells on the curled ends?”
“Perhaps you should get some sleep, Georgiana.”
“Can’t. Things to do.” Georgiana scrubbed at her gritty eyes and rolled her tense shoulders. “Monday and Tuesday I’m booked up with meetings. I need to discuss Hayes with the board. I haven’t looked over Ken’s physics project like I promised. Dan’s coming home soon, and I want to make sure everything’s perfect for him.”
“You need to take a break before you burn out.” Robert crossed the width of the hallway with one step. He cradled her jaw with a warm hand and brushed his thumb across the dark shadows under her eyes. “You won’t do Ken or Dan any good if you make yourself sick. Besides, a fresh mind will allow you to see things with a new perspective.”
Her eyelids drifted closed. She instinctively leaned towards his warmth. The spicy tang of his possibly-pheromone laden aftershave wrapped around her like a thick, downy comforter.
“Take a break with me, doll.” Robert’s voice dropped in pitch and lost the smooth veneer of refinement. The gravelly tone with its slight twang was the voice she remembered from their childhood. “Relax a little. Unwind. I’ll open a bottle of wine. We’ll watch a movie or one of those science shows you set NORA up to record. Whatever you want.”
“Mmm.” The tension built up at the back of Georgiana’s neck and across her shoulders melted like butter in a hot frying pan. Her palms itched with the need to pull him closer and bury herself in his arms. It was easy to understand why he never lacked for female companions.
“What do you say?”
“I say…” Georgiana reluctantly slipped out of Robert’s light embrace and inhaled sharply to clear her muddled head. “I say I need a small glass of Baileys and a slice of chocolate cheesecake.” When Robert’s face fell, she sighed and linked her fingers with his. “There’s enough for two.”
“Thanks, doll.”
In the kitchen, she filled two glasses with ice while Robert retrieved the Irish cream from the wet bar in the formal living room. Rather than divvy up the cheesecake and dirty plates, she left the quarter cheesecake on its plate and handed Robert a fork. The cool, sweet Irish cream was perfect with the firm, decadent chocolate cheesecake.
“Not usually how you spend a Saturday night, huh?” Georgiana dragged a forkful of cheesecake through a puddle of chocolate sauce. She hooked a foot under the rungs of her barstool and scooted closer to Robert. She spun the tablet computer near his elbow around and pressed the button to turn it on.
“It’s no charity gala or champagne-soaked soiree, but it has its perks.” Robert winked, popped a piece of crust in his mouth. His toes slowly brushed across the sole of her left foot. “Especially when it comes to the company.”
- - -
Hope y'all have a great (short!) workweek!
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Mistress of Malice and Mercy previews
It's Sunday. It may mean the end of the weekend and time to get ready for work again, but fortunately it's meant a day of writing. To celebrate, I'm offering up two previews of Mistress of Malice and Mercy.
Now, I've already mentioned that we'll see Duke's mother. And you thought Viola had the only dyfunctional family in the series...
There was an unfamiliar car parked in his driveway. Duke motioned for Wiff to crawl into his front pocket. The wards around the house hadn’t gone off, so the uninvited guest wasn’t a demon or a person with malicious intent. The small, nondescript sedan was empty. He took note of the sticker on the back bumper. The car was a rental.
After parking the truck, Duke dropped the tailgate and managed to get Finn onto the ground without tearing his stitches or injuring the dog. Duke’s hand inched around so that it rested on his FN Five-Seven USG. Rather than race towards the house, Finn remained pressed against Duke’s legs. When they neared the porch, Finn’s lips curled back to reveal sharp, white teeth. He growled warningly at the figure in red reclining on one of the wrought iron chairs.
The tension slipped off Duke’s shoulders. His hand fell away from the gun. The intruder was going to ruin the rest of his day, but she wasn’t going to hurt anyone. He sent a quick alert to Viola letting her know that he was going to have to skip their lunch. When Finn tensed, he patted the dog’s head. “It’s okay, boy.”
Finn growled again. He lifted his large head and snapped his teeth at the blonde, middle-aged woman. Duke huffed, swatted Finn’s ears. “That’s enough. You really are Vi’s mutt, aren’t you?”
Finn sat on Duke’s foot to prevent him from moving any further.
“I didn’t know you had a dog, Toby,” the woman on the porch said. She gracefully rose and walked to the edge of the first porch step. She curled her hands around the painted beam and leaned against it.
In the attic was a picture of the woman in a similar pose. The artist, a local talent who’d done the painting as a birthday present, had captured the blonde’s soft facial structure and ivory skin. Dressed in a flowing, butter-yellow sundress, she looked like the goddess of the dawn caught in a moment of quiet reflection. Paul Duke consigned the painting to a dusty corner of the attic the same day his wife of thirteen years presented him with divorce papers.
“What are you doing here, Mom?”
- - -
And this one takes place a little later. I just love Duke and Viola.
- - -
The pressure and anxiety that had settled on Viola’s shoulders dissolved like fog in the sun when she saw Duke waiting on the steps of his grandmother’s front porch. As soon as the car rolled to a stop, she flung open the door and raced up the driveway. Duke stood up, opened his arms in invitation, and braced for impact.
“No, no, that’s okay, Vi. I’ll get the door. It’s not like I’m going to have my hands full or anything.” Sebastian avoided the sight of his friend and baby sister making out like teenagers under the bleachers after a football game. He didn’t want to ruin his appetite for Aggie Duke’s gumbo. After kicking shut the door Viola had left open in her haste to greet Duke, he grabbed the two boxes of chocolate meringue pie from the backseat.
He deliberately bumped Duke’s shoulder as he passed the kissing couple on the way up the stairs. Neither broke for air. “If you’re not inside in two minutes, I’m going to get the garden hose,” he said. Viola stopped holding the back of Duke’s head long enough to flip Sebastian off; Duke did the same with the hand that had been gripping his wife’s hip. Sebastian rolled his eyes and stalked into the house.
At the slamming of the screen door, Duke unglued his lips from Viola’s. “Wait…,” he panted, glancing around for Sebastian. He’d been on the porch watching for them for a reason. Not that getting to enthusiastically greet his wife wasn’t good enough motivation all on its own.
“What? Why?” Viola scraped her short nails across his skull, tugged on his left earlobe when he didn’t immediately turn back to her. She unwound her legs from around his waist and dropped lightly to the ground.
“Never mind, I can’t remember.” Duke dipped his head to kiss the sharp jut of Viola’s collarbone. The unexpected tickle of soft, short hair thwarted his plans to kiss every inch of skin exposed by her v-neck shirt. He ran the tip of a finger from the point of her chin to her navel. It was a good thing he wasn’t allergic to cats, demonic or otherwise.
“Sugar…”
Her arms tightened around his neck. The gravelly way he murmured endearments weakened her knees and set her blood on fire in the most delicious ways. “Yeah, Tobias?”
“You’re covered in Chaisan hair.”
Viola glanced down at her shirt. She hadn’t noticed the white and brown fur stuck to the front of her gray shirt. No wonder Tom had been reluctant to hug her when she’d left Burkeholt.
“One of the little monsters took one of my bracelets. I had to get it back.” She held her wrist up and flicked at the small charms dangling from the sturdy silver chain. The ghost-themed bracelet had been a graduation present from her Network mentor. “After wrestling with Finn for over a year, it was like taking candy from a baby.”
Duke tucked a wisp of dark hair behind her ear. Catching something off in the symmetry his mother had pointed out earlier, he took a small step back to get perspective. It only took a second to pinpoint the source of the imbalance. She had two holes in each ear but only three earrings. “You’re missing one of your hoops.”
Her hand flew to her ear. She’d worn cheaper earrings because of the Chaisans, but having been so easily duped still rankled. She slumped forward and thumped her head against Duke’s shoulder. “I hate cats.”
Now, I've already mentioned that we'll see Duke's mother. And you thought Viola had the only dyfunctional family in the series...
There was an unfamiliar car parked in his driveway. Duke motioned for Wiff to crawl into his front pocket. The wards around the house hadn’t gone off, so the uninvited guest wasn’t a demon or a person with malicious intent. The small, nondescript sedan was empty. He took note of the sticker on the back bumper. The car was a rental.
After parking the truck, Duke dropped the tailgate and managed to get Finn onto the ground without tearing his stitches or injuring the dog. Duke’s hand inched around so that it rested on his FN Five-Seven USG. Rather than race towards the house, Finn remained pressed against Duke’s legs. When they neared the porch, Finn’s lips curled back to reveal sharp, white teeth. He growled warningly at the figure in red reclining on one of the wrought iron chairs.
The tension slipped off Duke’s shoulders. His hand fell away from the gun. The intruder was going to ruin the rest of his day, but she wasn’t going to hurt anyone. He sent a quick alert to Viola letting her know that he was going to have to skip their lunch. When Finn tensed, he patted the dog’s head. “It’s okay, boy.”
Finn growled again. He lifted his large head and snapped his teeth at the blonde, middle-aged woman. Duke huffed, swatted Finn’s ears. “That’s enough. You really are Vi’s mutt, aren’t you?”
Finn sat on Duke’s foot to prevent him from moving any further.
“I didn’t know you had a dog, Toby,” the woman on the porch said. She gracefully rose and walked to the edge of the first porch step. She curled her hands around the painted beam and leaned against it.
In the attic was a picture of the woman in a similar pose. The artist, a local talent who’d done the painting as a birthday present, had captured the blonde’s soft facial structure and ivory skin. Dressed in a flowing, butter-yellow sundress, she looked like the goddess of the dawn caught in a moment of quiet reflection. Paul Duke consigned the painting to a dusty corner of the attic the same day his wife of thirteen years presented him with divorce papers.
“What are you doing here, Mom?”
- - -
And this one takes place a little later. I just love Duke and Viola.
- - -
The pressure and anxiety that had settled on Viola’s shoulders dissolved like fog in the sun when she saw Duke waiting on the steps of his grandmother’s front porch. As soon as the car rolled to a stop, she flung open the door and raced up the driveway. Duke stood up, opened his arms in invitation, and braced for impact.
“No, no, that’s okay, Vi. I’ll get the door. It’s not like I’m going to have my hands full or anything.” Sebastian avoided the sight of his friend and baby sister making out like teenagers under the bleachers after a football game. He didn’t want to ruin his appetite for Aggie Duke’s gumbo. After kicking shut the door Viola had left open in her haste to greet Duke, he grabbed the two boxes of chocolate meringue pie from the backseat.
He deliberately bumped Duke’s shoulder as he passed the kissing couple on the way up the stairs. Neither broke for air. “If you’re not inside in two minutes, I’m going to get the garden hose,” he said. Viola stopped holding the back of Duke’s head long enough to flip Sebastian off; Duke did the same with the hand that had been gripping his wife’s hip. Sebastian rolled his eyes and stalked into the house.
At the slamming of the screen door, Duke unglued his lips from Viola’s. “Wait…,” he panted, glancing around for Sebastian. He’d been on the porch watching for them for a reason. Not that getting to enthusiastically greet his wife wasn’t good enough motivation all on its own.
“What? Why?” Viola scraped her short nails across his skull, tugged on his left earlobe when he didn’t immediately turn back to her. She unwound her legs from around his waist and dropped lightly to the ground.
“Never mind, I can’t remember.” Duke dipped his head to kiss the sharp jut of Viola’s collarbone. The unexpected tickle of soft, short hair thwarted his plans to kiss every inch of skin exposed by her v-neck shirt. He ran the tip of a finger from the point of her chin to her navel. It was a good thing he wasn’t allergic to cats, demonic or otherwise.
“Sugar…”
Her arms tightened around his neck. The gravelly way he murmured endearments weakened her knees and set her blood on fire in the most delicious ways. “Yeah, Tobias?”
“You’re covered in Chaisan hair.”
Viola glanced down at her shirt. She hadn’t noticed the white and brown fur stuck to the front of her gray shirt. No wonder Tom had been reluctant to hug her when she’d left Burkeholt.
“One of the little monsters took one of my bracelets. I had to get it back.” She held her wrist up and flicked at the small charms dangling from the sturdy silver chain. The ghost-themed bracelet had been a graduation present from her Network mentor. “After wrestling with Finn for over a year, it was like taking candy from a baby.”
Duke tucked a wisp of dark hair behind her ear. Catching something off in the symmetry his mother had pointed out earlier, he took a small step back to get perspective. It only took a second to pinpoint the source of the imbalance. She had two holes in each ear but only three earrings. “You’re missing one of your hoops.”
Her hand flew to her ear. She’d worn cheaper earrings because of the Chaisans, but having been so easily duped still rankled. She slumped forward and thumped her head against Duke’s shoulder. “I hate cats.”
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Sometimes it is Rocket Science snippet 2
I hope everyone had a wonderful weekend. It was hot here, of course, but we made it through just fine. I dragged JT to garage sales looking for the perfect piece of furniture to go in my newly redecorated living room. After three hours, we went to WalMart and I picked up a pretty, cherry cabinet. Now if only I could keep the Terrors off it!
I have been busy, busy working on Mistress of Malice and Mercy (half-finished, yay!) and Sometimes it is Rocket Science (also half-finished, another yay!). Here is another snippet of SiiRS:
Georgiana paused in the doorway to Yvonne’s office to let her assistant know she was giving Robert a tour of the building. The elevator ride to the lobby was uncomfortable. Despite his earlier laughter, she was afraid he was still hung up on her comment about trust. The orange indicator light switched from 12 to 11. She slammed her hand on the emergency stop button.
“Dan has joint custody of Ken,” she blurted, throat tight and eyes fixed on the closed doors. “Not his stock or trust, that’s all on me, but over Ken’s wellbeing. It’s how Dad set it up. Dad trusted your father with one of the most important things in his world. I’m following Dad’s example.”
Robert was silent, but she knew he was listening. She exhaled shakily and, glad she’d worn heels that made their height difference negligible, met his inscrutable stare. “Daniel was there when Mom died and again for Dad’s death. Trusting him is like breathing because he’s always been there. I’m sorry, Bobby, but I just don’t know you that well any more.”
“I know you would have wasted away your freshman year if I hadn’t dragged you out of the library for meals.” Robert held up a hand to stave off the impending rebuttal. “You would have been late to every one of your classes if I hadn’t given you that tour or drawn you a map.”
Her lips curved upwards at the mention of the last time she and Robert had spent quality time together. Her first year at MIT had been his last. He’d taken time out of his busy schedule wowing professors and seducing undergrads to show Georgiana around. As children, they’d bonded over the isolationism of being the children of wealthy, famous parents and the tribulations that went along with genius. In college, they’d commiserated about expectations and overprotective fathers. After Robert’s MIT graduation, he’d gone to Oxford for an additional year of study. Their friendship rapidly faded to polite nothings at social functions and impersonal holiday cards.
I also know you wouldn’t have passed that Elements of Software Construction class without my help,” he continued.
Georgiana shook off the melancholy to glare at him. “Oh? And who was it that helped you with that Statistical Physics class when they were, oh I don’t know, in high school?”
Robert’s rumbling laughter bounced off the elevator’s metal walls. “You are aware that when you say ‘high school’ it does not mean the same as it would for anyone else, aren’t you?”
I have been busy, busy working on Mistress of Malice and Mercy (half-finished, yay!) and Sometimes it is Rocket Science (also half-finished, another yay!). Here is another snippet of SiiRS:
Georgiana paused in the doorway to Yvonne’s office to let her assistant know she was giving Robert a tour of the building. The elevator ride to the lobby was uncomfortable. Despite his earlier laughter, she was afraid he was still hung up on her comment about trust. The orange indicator light switched from 12 to 11. She slammed her hand on the emergency stop button.
“Dan has joint custody of Ken,” she blurted, throat tight and eyes fixed on the closed doors. “Not his stock or trust, that’s all on me, but over Ken’s wellbeing. It’s how Dad set it up. Dad trusted your father with one of the most important things in his world. I’m following Dad’s example.”
Robert was silent, but she knew he was listening. She exhaled shakily and, glad she’d worn heels that made their height difference negligible, met his inscrutable stare. “Daniel was there when Mom died and again for Dad’s death. Trusting him is like breathing because he’s always been there. I’m sorry, Bobby, but I just don’t know you that well any more.”
“I know you would have wasted away your freshman year if I hadn’t dragged you out of the library for meals.” Robert held up a hand to stave off the impending rebuttal. “You would have been late to every one of your classes if I hadn’t given you that tour or drawn you a map.”
Her lips curved upwards at the mention of the last time she and Robert had spent quality time together. Her first year at MIT had been his last. He’d taken time out of his busy schedule wowing professors and seducing undergrads to show Georgiana around. As children, they’d bonded over the isolationism of being the children of wealthy, famous parents and the tribulations that went along with genius. In college, they’d commiserated about expectations and overprotective fathers. After Robert’s MIT graduation, he’d gone to Oxford for an additional year of study. Their friendship rapidly faded to polite nothings at social functions and impersonal holiday cards.
I also know you wouldn’t have passed that Elements of Software Construction class without my help,” he continued.
Georgiana shook off the melancholy to glare at him. “Oh? And who was it that helped you with that Statistical Physics class when they were, oh I don’t know, in high school?”
Robert’s rumbling laughter bounced off the elevator’s metal walls. “You are aware that when you say ‘high school’ it does not mean the same as it would for anyone else, aren’t you?”
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Snippet
Snippet from an unfinished story. Not much to it, just felt like sharing.
Conversations
“Mom. I need you to listen to me, Mom. You have to be careful with Kevin. He’s not like you and me. He takes every word and locks it in his heart. He holds on to them and never lets go of the pain. They don’t roll off his back.”
“I don’t – “
“But you do, Mom. You do. You’re a master at it. Your tongue is so smooth. It’s like a poisoned-tipped samurai’s sword. You don’t feel it slice through until you’re bleeding out and the poison’s killing you.”
“Kelsey!”
“I’m not saying you do it on purpose. You love us, I know you do, but your tongue is acid, Mom. It’s poison. You’ve always complained about my sarcasm but where do you think I learned it from? I’m just saying you have to be careful. Kevin’s in a rough place right now, and he’s always felt things more strongly than the rest of us.”
“Your brother’s got a good heart.”
A wistful smile curved Kelsey’s lips. “That’s his role, you know. He’s the heart, the life, of our family. Thinks with his heart and not his brains. Gets knocked down but always gets right back up. Sees the good in people and trusts when no one else would. Keeps us all a little brighter.”
Kelsey rolled her head back on the pillow and closed her eyes. “Dad’s the anchor. No matter how much time’s gone by, no matter how much crap that’s piled up, Dad’s the same. It’s comforting. He’s our rock.”
“And I suppose I’m the wicked witch in this little scenario?”
“No, Mom.” Kelsey chuckled and opened one eye so that she could meet her mother’s steely gaze. “That’s my role. You’re… you’re our brain. Our tie to the real world. Practical and patient and the perfect mix of love and wisdom. You remind us that we can’t all stay in our little bubbles of selfishness and self-pity forever.”
“I’m not sure that’s a compliment, Kelsey.”
Kelsey struggled to sit up. She reached out and sandwiched both of Opal’s hands with hers. “Don’t you know you’re the first one Kevin and I call when anything goes wrong. For all Dad’s quiet stoicism, you’re the one we turn to for help. We know you’ll steer us straight. We know you love us.”
Opal silently studied her inebriated daughter. There was truth to the things she’d said. A painful truth, but an honest one. When had her daughter, the preemie baby she’d watched stumble and fumble and finally stand on her own, become so very wise? “I know what you’re role is.”
“Black sheep. Not really a newsflash, Mom.”
Opal shook her head. “You’re the seeker. You see into each one of us and pull out the truths we want to deny. You aren’t fooled by any of our masks. You keep us honest.”
“Thereby being the very definition of irony.” Kelsey rolled her eyes. “Are you sure you didn’t finish off that bottle of rum?”
“No, dear. You did that all on your own.” Opal patted Kelsey’s cheek. “You aren’t going to remember any of this in the morning, are you?”
“If the Fates are kind, tomorrow morning I will wake up in my apartment in Houston and none of the past two weeks will have occurred.” Kelsey collapsed back on the bed.
Conversations
“Mom. I need you to listen to me, Mom. You have to be careful with Kevin. He’s not like you and me. He takes every word and locks it in his heart. He holds on to them and never lets go of the pain. They don’t roll off his back.”
“I don’t – “
“But you do, Mom. You do. You’re a master at it. Your tongue is so smooth. It’s like a poisoned-tipped samurai’s sword. You don’t feel it slice through until you’re bleeding out and the poison’s killing you.”
“Kelsey!”
“I’m not saying you do it on purpose. You love us, I know you do, but your tongue is acid, Mom. It’s poison. You’ve always complained about my sarcasm but where do you think I learned it from? I’m just saying you have to be careful. Kevin’s in a rough place right now, and he’s always felt things more strongly than the rest of us.”
“Your brother’s got a good heart.”
A wistful smile curved Kelsey’s lips. “That’s his role, you know. He’s the heart, the life, of our family. Thinks with his heart and not his brains. Gets knocked down but always gets right back up. Sees the good in people and trusts when no one else would. Keeps us all a little brighter.”
Kelsey rolled her head back on the pillow and closed her eyes. “Dad’s the anchor. No matter how much time’s gone by, no matter how much crap that’s piled up, Dad’s the same. It’s comforting. He’s our rock.”
“And I suppose I’m the wicked witch in this little scenario?”
“No, Mom.” Kelsey chuckled and opened one eye so that she could meet her mother’s steely gaze. “That’s my role. You’re… you’re our brain. Our tie to the real world. Practical and patient and the perfect mix of love and wisdom. You remind us that we can’t all stay in our little bubbles of selfishness and self-pity forever.”
“I’m not sure that’s a compliment, Kelsey.”
Kelsey struggled to sit up. She reached out and sandwiched both of Opal’s hands with hers. “Don’t you know you’re the first one Kevin and I call when anything goes wrong. For all Dad’s quiet stoicism, you’re the one we turn to for help. We know you’ll steer us straight. We know you love us.”
Opal silently studied her inebriated daughter. There was truth to the things she’d said. A painful truth, but an honest one. When had her daughter, the preemie baby she’d watched stumble and fumble and finally stand on her own, become so very wise? “I know what you’re role is.”
“Black sheep. Not really a newsflash, Mom.”
Opal shook her head. “You’re the seeker. You see into each one of us and pull out the truths we want to deny. You aren’t fooled by any of our masks. You keep us honest.”
“Thereby being the very definition of irony.” Kelsey rolled her eyes. “Are you sure you didn’t finish off that bottle of rum?”
“No, dear. You did that all on your own.” Opal patted Kelsey’s cheek. “You aren’t going to remember any of this in the morning, are you?”
“If the Fates are kind, tomorrow morning I will wake up in my apartment in Houston and none of the past two weeks will have occurred.” Kelsey collapsed back on the bed.
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