I turned in DQ Book 3 V 2.0 Sunday night, and I’ve been trying to get back in the writing groove - I really want to write this new short I started March 1, a past-life thing I’d like to send to Ellora’s Cave. But I think I need a cool-down. :)
Last night I impulsively attended a chat hosted by Barry Eisler and added his first book to my Amazon cart…then found out Jennifer St. Giles was also in attendance, so I have two of hers on the way, and tossed in an Anna Campbell book for good measure. When I clicked to check out, Amazon informed me of their 4-for-3 special so of course I had to choose four more books. Right? That’s the way these things work. Teresa D’Amario, also in attendance, pushed Sydney Croft’s Riding the Storm like it was crack, and I scooped it up like the little crackwhore I can be when it comes to spending money. Two other Jacqui D’Alessandro books later and I finally said “enough!” Put in my order, went to find something to read, and picked up (about a year after buying it) Magic Bites by Ilona Andrews. Loving Magic Bites. Totally forgot that today I’m buying Cara Carnes’ Cadari Lover as soon as Ellora’s Cave puts it up to buy.
How am I supposed to feed my new organic milk addiction and my between-projects book addiction in the same month?!
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Available March 21 at http://www.ellorascave.com !
copyright 2008 Emily Ryan-Davis
The wagon bumped and bounced as the driver hopped down. A sudden instinct to hide drove Margaret to crouch in the corner near the driver’s bench.
“This shipment’s overdue,” one of the men called to the driver. Big hands peeled back the canvas flap. He stuck his head and shoulders into the dim recess of the wagon and froze. Margaret blanched.
“You’re a far cry from livestock feed,” he observed.
The brim of his hat hid his eyes and the upper half of his face. The lower half was strong and square. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the full curve of his bottom lip, which quirked in bemused amusement. Heat curled in her abdomen. His shirt, a simple dusty blue, was unbuttoned at the top. Dark blond hair curled in the opening. A few coils tickled the hollow of his throat.
“And you don’t look like the sort to eat up all my feed…which leads me to believe this never was a wagon full of my supplies.” He hitched his elbow atop the wagon’s tailgate and leaned forward. “What’s your name?”
She swallowed and prayed for recognition to show itself on his face. “Margaret.”
His features remained disappointingly blank. “Margaret what?”
Her shoulders slumped. “Margaret Redde. I’m here to see Ethan Carver.”
“Ah.” He shifted and the wagon creaked as he propped his foot on the hitch. The grin that brightened his face melted her inside. “I sure do hope you like what you see, darlin’.”
“I’m sure I will,” she said faintly. “Perhaps you’ll let me out, so I might find him?”
He shook his head. “No need to go anywhere. I’m standin’ right here.”
“You must be mistaken. Ethan knows me, and you don’t.” She frowned and drew up against the wagon’s side, plastering her body tight to the protection of wood. “Please bring him immediately.”
“I’m the only Carver living on this ranch,” he said, his tone turning from playful to bitter. “If you’re looking for Ethan Carver, you’re looking for me. Can I help you with something?”
“I…but you…I’m going to be your wife, and you don’t…” she trailed off, speechless. His features froze, hardened. He didn’t know her. Margaret covered her face, deeply embarrassed. What have I done? “Please send the driver back,” she muttered between her fingers.
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Did you ever play the game Telephone when you were a kid? It’s sometimes called Rumor or Gossip. You sit in a circle, the bigger the better.
The ring leader will tell a “secret” to one person. That person turns to the person on their left and whispers it. Each person hears the “secret” on one side and tells it on the other until it goes all the way around the circle. The last person says out loud what they were told, then the ring leader says what everyone started with. Most of the time it isn’t the same thing, and can be quite funny.
Using the power of the Internet, let’s give it a try.
I’m going to write a paragraph. Your job is to make a change. It can be as little as one word or as big as twenty words. You can change names, plot and setting, but don’t change it so much that we can’t tell how it relates to what (Alice) started with. Post your paragraph on your blog with a link to Alice’s post. She will link back to you. Then, pick three people to whom you will “whisper” your modified version. Let them know they are up next. Link to them and to the person who passed it to you (me).
Here is my paragraph for the three people I’m going to tag:
Jock and Will went up Boot Hill to find some privacy. Jock fell down and hit his crown and asked Will to kiss the owie. Will was drunk but happy to oblige Jock’s earnest desire without further bruising, but his kisses weren’t enough. If he hadn’t already lost his heart to Jock, he would never have gone to the military with him to begin with.
I’m whispering to MJ, , Teresa, and Zinnia. You can still play this game even if I didn’t tag you. Anyone can play if you follow the rules.
Come back in a month and see what happened to our little rumor.
~*~*~*~*~
The rules for this meme:
- Change something in the paragraph you received; a minimum of 1 word, a maximum of 20 words.
- Link to the post at http://aliceaudrey.wordpress.com/2008/03/03/alice-calling/ and leave a comment so we can keep track of what happens to the paragraph. Alice will link back to you.
- Link to the person who tagged you, preferably to where ever they posted their version of the paragraph.
- Tag three people you think might enjoy this game. Let them know they’ve been tagged. Link to them.
- Include these rules in your post.
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