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On the Verge

Yesterday was a very lovely day, though it was spent on household chores rather than enjoying the nice weather.  Today wasn’t as lovely, which was just as well, as I went in to the day-job to start my crazy week early.  The rest of the week should be warm, but I think rainy, which seems fitting, since the calendar is about to roll over into April by the weekend.

( Photo credit: Thomas James Caldwell via / CC BY-ND )

There are flowers blooming, and there is even a magnolia tree at the office that had flowers opening a couple of weeks ago when we got the first rush of warm spring weather (before the snow finally came).

So what will I be doing this week?  Working like a crazy person at the day-job, and, hopefully, getting in some writing time if my brain doesn’t turn to complete mush.  Last week was almost as crazy, but I still managed new pages in the mornings, before starting at the office, and a little during lunch breaks mid-week, so I’m hoping I can do the same this week.  I’m actually ready for a vacation, I think.  Too bad I didn’t schedule one until the end of July.

I think I’m ready for spring, since my winter was a total bust.  The only trouble with it being spring is that means summer will follow close behind, and you know how I feel about summer.

Once we get through this week and next at the day-job, the craziness will abate for a little while, which is nice.  And I’ve had some good news about the friends I was worrying about.  Both have made it through their surgeries, well, so now they just have to be patient about recovering.  A little stress off my plate.  The ill family members are still worrying me, though I know worrying is a waste of energy.

So how do you stop yourself, or at least distract yourself from fruitless worrying?  I could use a few pointers.  And maybe you would like a snippet of a tiger shifter and her wolf?


India wasn’t sure how she made it through the meal. She didn’t taste anything, couldn’t even concentrate on the food she put in her mouth. All her attention was on the man sitting too close to her, the fresh, wild scent of him driving her slowly mad, the feel of his warm fingers on her back reinforcing the throbbing in her belly, his hard thigh pressing against hers all through the meal. She should never have agreed to meet him for dinner. What the hell had she been thinking? She needed to get out of here. Rory’s big hand settled on her nape again. “You’re not eating, love.” She stifled a little shiver. When he called her that, it had always made her melt, and she needed not to do that. Not tonight. Not ever again. “I’m not hungry.” She finally set the fork on the side of her plate. “I was hoping to share dessert with you,” he teased, leaning closer so his warm breath brushed the top of her ear. Heat burst in her middle at that. They’d shared many desserts, a long, long time ago. Damn him. “I can’t eat anything else.” “Then maybe a walk.” He tipped his head to look at her, and she couldn’t look away. “I need to go home.” Instead of looking disappointed, Rory smiled, his bright eyes knowing. “Then I’ll walk you to your car.” That was too easy. She frowned up at him, trying to figure out what was going on in his head. He gave her nape a stroke, fingers and thumb coming together at her spine, that made her suck in a shaky breath. “Let’s go.” He reached into his pocket and took out some money, then pushed his chair back without releasing her. He held out his free hand. If she took it… She tipped her head back to meet his gaze, unsurprised to see the heat flare in his eyes. Gathering her courage, she put her hand in his. Rory pulled her to her feet, and into his arms. She knew this was a mistake. His hand slid down from her nape to the small of her back and settled, while his eyes darkened. “Come, love ,” he said softly after a moment, his hand slipping away from her spine, though he kept his other hand wrapped tight around hers. And she let him. Just for a minute. Or until they got outside. Or maybe, she thought when they stepped out into the warm evening, until they got to her car. His hard fingers were relaxed around hers, but she knew if she tried to withdraw, they’d tighten quickly, like a trap on a rabbit. She had no intention of withdrawing her hand from his. She wanted just this little while. This moment would have to hold her for a very long time again.


Hope you all have a great week!


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