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Too Much

As I write this, Mother’s Day is winding down. Mine was quiet, and my guys got me some very thoughtful gifts (Chocolate from my favorite local candy shop, a nifty indoor basil kit, and Thor & Loki! It’s like my three guys know me or something.).  But I’ve been working, too, all weekend, though I feel like I haven’t gotten nearly enough accomplished. I bet a lot of moms feel that way quite often–all the household and family things that need to be done, and then if they’re lucky, maybe some time to do things for themselves.

One of the things I’ve been trying to cram into my schedule is tweaking my goals list for the year, yes, again.

With all of the real-life things that keep falling into my path, I’ve been mentally shifting priorities to accommodate, and I really need to put the adjustments on paper. And at this point in the year, It’s almost time to do the mid-year evaluation, to see if what remains on the list is still feasible or not, and adjust for that. I work best with a list that stares me in the face all the time, so I can keep my focus there and actually achieve what I want to get done.

Right now, it’s raining and has been on and off since yesterday afternoon. Overnight Friday night, too, and after the past few days, what I’d really like to do is crawl in bed with a good book and ignore anything else that looks like work for the day while I listen to the rain on the roof. But if I do that, I’ll feel very guilty, and that kind of ruins the enjoyment of the indulgence, doesn’t it?  So I may not give in to that impulse, but I am going to call it a day earlier than usual tonight. The next week at the day-job will be busy again, and then I have my family gathering next weekend, so I feel like I need to rest up tonight and get ready for the next seven days.

This week, I feel like maybe a little snippet from the second shifter story might be appropriate.


India closed the file full of wedding pictures on her laptop and set the computer aside. Tessa and Harley had sent the rough shots as soon as they arrived from the photographer. Dozens of them, including one of her looking wistfully at her brother and new sister-in-law. She pushed to her feet and paced to the window.

Sighing, she reached up with one hand to unclip her hair from the sleek twist she usually wore for work. That alleviated a tiny bit of the pressure in her head, but the rest was internal. She tossed the clip onto her desk and used both hands to rub at the base of her skull.

It had been a long week. Her uncle Adar had stormed into her office early Monday morning, growling about her treatment of his shiny new wife at the wedding reception, then a report she’d sent to Boris’s secretary had gone missing before lunchtime, and things had gone downhill from there.

Her only consolation right now was that she had one day left till the weekend. Of course, next week, she’d be stuck in Shifter Alliance Conference meetings in New York City all week. She stared down at the traffic and pedestrians on the street below, resting her forehead against the window. If she were going to New York to shop, that would be one thing, but with the conference schedule, she wouldn’t have time to wander the city on the hunt for any fabulous shopping opportunities or bargains.

She shut her eyes and took a deep breath. Work. She needed a vacation. Somewhere on a beach, with room service.

She straightened and returned to her desk. She needed to get through next week before she could think about time off. And right now, there was a scheduling report on her computer–she should have been looking at that instead of Harley and Tessa’s wedding pictures, since the report was due this afternoon.

She leaned forward in her chair and turned the computer back around, tapping the keys to bring up the report again. Rubbing her temple to ease the ache in her head, it took her a few minutes to refocus her attention on the screen. Work.

An hour later, she’d nearly finished compiling the report, when India felt eyes on her, making the fine hairs at the back of her neck prickle. She looked up, frowning. No one. She tapped her fingers on the desktop, shifting her gaze to the window.

And then she saw him, standing at the window across the street.

Her heart leaped into high gear, and she tried to slow it down, tried to convince herself it was just her imagination, just a little wishful thinking left over from the weekend. Her imagination.

Even though she knew it wasn’t.

He was here.

Heat flashed through her, molten, and left her shivering. If she tried to leave the office, her legs would never hold her.

She couldn’t see his face clearly from here, but she didn’t need to. She knew it almost as well as her own, even after all this time.

She shut her eyes and turned back to her desk.

Her phone rang, and she nearly jumped out of her chair. Laughing at herself, she picked it up. “Hello?”

“Hello, a rúnsearc.” The lilting Irish accent teased her ear, familiar, sexy. Rory.

She went still, except for her racing heart. “What do you want?” The question came out hoarse, but she couldn’t help it. Her imagination went wild. Memories, good and bad, flooded through her.

He chuckled, and arousal stirred in her belly, spreading outward. She knew what he wanted. “Have dinner with me,” he said after a second.

“No.” She was a little surprised she’d managed to sound like she meant that.

“You’d really make me wait until the meeting next week to have a meal together?”

India shut her eyes. He would be there. Dear Gods.

“India, a rúnsearc?”

“Why are you here?” She should have just repeated her refusal and hung up.

“Why do you think?”

To torture her, obviously. Every part of her wanted to go to him, even now. “Because you’re a glutton for punishment,” she muttered.

He laughed again. “For you? Of course.”

She’d meant herself, and she flushed, trying to ignore the slow, thick trickle of heat in her veins, the building throb in her belly.

“But the pleasure is so much better,” he whispered.


I love India and Rory, though I am going to need to do some rewriting of their story before it’s fully ready for public consumption. But because I was jotting notes about them last night, I thought it might be fun to share a little snippet of their story.

Happy Mother’s Day, to anyone doing Mom’s work! And if you would, tell me how you sneak in a little down-time when things are crazy. I could use a couple of tips.

( Photo on )


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