She knew the rules. She knew she’d broken a couple of them. She knew she was in trouble. She’d just guaranteed herself even less freedom than she’d had before. God, she was stupid.
I’ve always believed the writing, the publishing of books, the selling of books, might simply be a tool in God’s arsenal.
The word beautiful was probably used 200 times to describe how the hero sees the heroine. Dear author: Get a thesaurus.
“It means, maybe if he got a haircut, wore something besides faded jeans and tee shirts…” trained his dog, found Skid’s leash, didn’t make my heart rate go crazy…
Hot guy has breached the neutral zone, shouted her internal alarm system.
Jack was there. But he wasn’t the vivid Jack of her waking memory. The Jack with the black hair and laughing eyes. Not the larger-than-life Jack who’d swept her off her feet when she’d been a naïve eighteen-year-old, the one she’d married, the one who’d been her whole world.
What if my character was on the run and she decided to cut through that culvert? And stepped on the gator’s tail? Would going forward be worse than whatever was behind her?
“We never agreed. You dictated and eventually I swallowed my own objections. I’ve been choking on them ever since. Joy is here now and she stays.” Marcy tugged Joy’s hand and Joy followed her to the kitchen feeling her father’s stare of disapproval like bullet holes in her back.
I found tile that almost but not quite matched. But most of it would be covered by the bathtub and who was going to notice that it didn’t match?
I’m also thinking Bill is, by this point, wishing he’d suggested going out to breakfast.