He frowned. “How would you…? Wait. You were watching me get dressed?” His tone of voice conveyed his outrage at her invasion of his privacy.
“Oh, come on. How much do you think I could see hiding under the bed so you wouldn’t find me? Not much, I can tell you that. Mostly what I saw was your feet. Your shoes and socks. Your pants cuffs.”
“And from that you deduced I was an accountant?”
What book in the women’s fiction genre should I absolutely read? “I’m always on the lookout for new authors and new writing voices
Joy left home at 18 with a boy her minister father didn’t approve of. Joy and Mike marry in Vegas and arrive in LA. Shortly thereafter Joy discovers she’s pregnant and before she gives birth Mike is killed in a motorcycle accident. Broke, pregnant and widowed, Joy calls home. Her father, Art, says, “You’ve made your bed. Now lie in it.” He hangs up on her.
Seriously? Pizza and beer? Forget his feet. There was a lot to work with here. “Thomas L. Purdue. You’re about to make me swoon.” She picked up the beer and drank. Then took another bite of pizza, closed her eyes and savored.
Was that a hint sympathy she saw in his eyes? Work it, said that desperate little voice inside Hallie’s head. And be nice even if it kills you.
Look, I fed you. I didn’t call the cops on you. And there’s a good chance that will come back to bite me on the ass. I presume you were wearing shoes when you arrived. So get them. Put them on and skedaddle.” He waved in the direction of the door.
Hallie crossed her arms. “No.”
He leaned forward and crossed his arms on the table, his eyes boring into her. “Let me get this straight. You’ve been living under my bed. For two days.”
She lifted a shoulder and let it drop. “Well, I wasn’t under the bed the whole time. Only when you were here.”
I hardly ever get mail from readers, but this came through via my web site and put a smile on my face. It’s an entertaining piece to say the least, and I smiled broadly after I first read it. The reader had a number of issues with my story execution, …
It’s one thing for a publisher to undervalue an author, but it seems to me, it’s quite another for the author to undervalue his/herself and his/her work.
Ask anyone who’s tried to write a book. It is not an easy thing. Well, not an easy thing if you want to write a good book.
Picky Reader Reads Again I used to do Picky Reader blogs about the books I read for pleasure. I’d say whether I liked the book or didn’t. But as an author I decided I probably shouldn’t be critical of other authors’ works. Even though I tried not be too critical.…
