We're getting closer to Freeing Medusa. I think I've got my formatter set now, so today is about getting the file ready to send to her soon, and getting with my cover designer so we have the paperback cover ready, too. Once I've got those things in place, I can figure out a release date. As much as I'd like it to be before the end of the year, I don't know how realistic that is--everyone is going to be insanely busy from now through the start of the new year with all the holiday things and family stuff, so how much reading is really going to happen for many romance readers between now and then? I'm thinking right now about January when people slow down and catch their breath, but that isn't set in stone.
In the meantime, I thought that, along with this week's story snippet, I'd share a visual of the model who's on the cover, a different image, but same guy for 'inspiration'. Haha.
================
Katharine didn’t look up when Hunter walked inside and shut the front door. She heard the soft sound of his finger tapping over the keypad, accompanied by faint beeps. Resetting the alarm on her prison. She stared at her laptop screen, though she was no longer reading the scanned page there.
“Are you hungry?”
She took a slow breath and released it, then finally lifted her gaze to his face. “Not really.” He seemed relieved. He probably hadn’t expected her to speak to him. Or maybe he hadn’t expected she’d still be here. If she could’ve figured out a way to go without setting off his damned alarm, she wouldn’t be. But every window and door in the entire house was wired into the system. She’d checked. Twice. If she set it off, who knew how many people would notice, and who knew how many Harvesters were in town now to notice, too. She could have tried drawing energy from the earth to knock out his power, but that worked better when she was in physical contact with the ground, so she’d ruled it out.
He took several steps into the living room, sliding one hand into his pocket, his gaze focused on her face. She took another measured breath, keeping her expression neutral.
Disappointment shadowed his eyes, but he held her gaze. “You should have some lunch with me.”
“No, thank you. I’m reading some of the things my cousin sent me. Since I can’t go anywhere.”
His jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue, turning to leave the room.
Listening to his footfalls in the hallway, she didn’t feel as if she’d won that little skirmish. Just prolonged the battle. She shut her eyes and blew out a quick breath before refocusing her attention on her laptop and the decades-old journals Mena and Andi had emailed.
A few minutes later, Hunter returned with a plate of sandwiches and dropped onto the armchair closest to the sofa, putting the plate on the coffee table between them. “What are you reading?” He took a sandwich from the top of the stack and bit into it.
Katharine ignored the rumbling of her stomach. It was past lunchtime, and she hadn’t eaten anything since she made herself toast after Hunter left for work. “Old journals.” She lifted one shoulder and kept her eyes on her screen.
“From previous Medusas?” He moved from the chair to the couch, his weight depressing the cushion beside her.
She frowned at him. “Yes.”
He leaned closer, and she sighed, shifting so their shoulders didn’t touch and angling the laptop so he could see the screen without getting nearer. Hunter lifted one eyebrow as he gave her a solemn, sidelong glance, then turned his gaze back to the computer. “How old is this?”
“About a hundred and fifty years.”
“Have you found anything useful?”
She contained another sigh. It was a pretty lousy day so far–no way out of the house and nothing interesting in the scanned pages. “No.”
He took another bite of his sandwich and scanned the screen slowly.
“If you want to read it, you can hold it, too,” she said, annoyance sharpening her tone.
He shot her another sidelong glance. “I don’t want to fight with you, Katharine.”
She debated with herself for a few moments about whether or not she really wanted to go there right now. Probably not, but what the hell. “Then you shouldn’t lock me in your house.”
Hunter put the last of his sandwich in his mouth and took the laptop from her knee. When he’d finished chewing, he turned his head to look at her. “You know why your cousins’ husbands think this is best.”
“And you know I’m an adult. I could call the police, I suppose, and have you arrested for kidnapping.”
He smiled. “Yeah, why don’t you do that?”
Because all the cops in town were his friends. She was a moron. She glared at him. “I can’t imagine why I found you so attractive.”
His smile widened, and he picked up another sandwich.
She growled and shoved off the sofa. “Just leave the computer on the table when you go back to work,” she said as she left the room.
Only where was she going?
She clenched her jaw as she strode toward the kitchen. She could at least get a drink.
When she’d drunk half a glass of water, she heard his footsteps in the hallway, heading her direction. “For the love of all the Gods, can’t you leave me alone?” she growled without turning around. She rested the glass on the edge of the sink and squeezed her eyes shut.
“Apparently not,” he muttered from several feet away. “Look, Kat, I’m sorry. Not sorry you’re safe, but sorry you’re unhappy.”
“Not that sorry, or we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“Can we call a truce? I don’t want to argue with you, and neither of us is going to change our position on this.”
“I’m not sure that’s really a truce, just me backing down.” She opened her eyes to look at the window over the sink. She was beginning to be annoyed at herself now, for not letting it go. She knew her family wanted her safe. She knew Hunter would keep her safe.
But she hated not having a choice in the matter as much as she hated that he could be in danger, too.
Hunter was silent for a moment, and then she heard his long exhalation. “Kat–”
“Don’t. I get it.” She put the glass on the counter and turned around, ignoring the way her pulse leaped at the sight of him standing there in his faded jeans and the black t-shirt that stretched across his wide chest and shoulders. “I don’t like having decisions made for me. It isn’t your fault you got stuck in the middle of this.”
A muscle in his jaw jumped, but he didn’t say anything.
“I’ll do my best not to provoke any arguments. I can’t promise I won’t be cranky, though. How’s that for a truce?”
“It’s a start.” He didn’t appear mollified, though, fists clenched at his sides and mouth flat. “Will you go eat something now? I heard your stomach growling.”
She flushed, embarrassed and annoyed all over again. “Fine.” She grabbed her water and headed for the living room, sucking in a quick breath when he caught her wrist on the way by.
“I left you two sandwiches. And the journal still looks interesting, even if there isn’t anything useful in it.” He dropped her arm and turned away.
She stood there for a few seconds while he went to the fridge before she continued out of the room, back to where he’d left her laptop on the coffee table beside the sandwich plate. Warmth still drifted up her arm from her wrist where his fingers had circled it.
Chemical, she told herself, sitting and reaching for a sandwich without even checking to see what was in it. Might even be leftover hormones.
She ignored his departure a few minutes later, accompanied as it was by more beeping from the alarm panel by the door, in favor of eating her lunch and continuing to skim through the journal, ignoring the dull ache at the back of her head.
She didn’t really think the journal would have anything useful in it. If it had, one of her cousins would have seen it when they were scanning the old pages into their computers.
================
I promise, as soon as I set the release date, I'll share the beautiful cover for this book. I've been sitting on it way longer than I expected or wanted, and I can't wait for you to see it.
For a change, I'm not cooking today. I made a huge pot of vegetarian mulligatawny yesterday (already put a few quarts in the freezer for winter lunches), so we have plenty of leftovers. Not cooking means I have more time for writing tasks, so I'm going to get back to those. My reward when I finish will be a fat, warm slice of double chocolate bread straight from the bread machine. (I'm not counting that as cooking since I just dumped ingredients and turned the machine on, haha.)
I would love to hear if you manage to get in much reading time from November through New Year's, though. Before I settle on a release date for this book and work out a date for the next book on my list. Are you too busy with work and shopping and baking and other holiday tasks to sit with a book, or do you sneak in some reading time anyway? Let me know! And until next week, happy reading!
Comments