NaNoWriMo

Racing Heart – Last Excerpt

Racing Heart

This is the last excerpt from my 2008 National Novel Writing Month project, Racing Heart. I have comments turned off, not because I don’t want your feedback, but because I can’t afford to think too much about what I’m doing at this point – I hope you understand. 🙂

This is it, the last week of the challenge. I’m in pretty good shape and barring any unforeseen tragedy (knock on wood), I should be crossing, validating and posting winning badges in the next several days.

It’s weird, but I don’t feel as drained as I have in year’s past. In fact, my creative energy is just as high as it was beginning the challenge. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but there’s been a subtle shift in me – I feel more like a writer and I’m feeling a bit more confidence.

Thank you so much for sticking it out with me this month. Watch the word count widget in my sidebar, it should be reaching that 50,000 mark very soon.

(last part of) Chapter One
You can read the prologue and the first and second part of chapter one.

_____________________________

“Alex, let me explain,” Julie began. She stopped as she noticed that Bridget was still sitting on the bed. In fact, she was settling in deeper and looked like she had no intention of leaving any time soon. Julie ignored her. “I just took my eyes off the track for a second …”

“That’s all it takes, Julie,” Alex said softly.

Tears began pooling in Julie’s eyes and she moved closer to the bed. “I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am, Alex. You know me, you know I would never do something like this on purpose. I always watch you like a hawk …”

“Until Kent shows up,” Bridget cut in.

Julie blinked. She could feel her cheeks flush with embarrassment. “What are you talking about?”

Bridget sighed and leaned back against Alex’s shoulder, her long, lithe body was half off, half on the narrow hospital bed. “You really want to go there, Julie?”

“I … I don’t know what she’s talking about, Alex.”

Alex’s eyes volleyed between the women. After studying Julie’s face for long moments, he turned to Bridget. “I’d like to know what you mean, Bridget,” he held up a hand as she began to speak, interrupting her, “but this is my baby sister we’re talking about here and I won’t put up with your bitchy attitude or silly gossip. If you have something to say to me, then say it, otherwise, this conversation isn’t about you.”

Bridget blinked in surprise at his sour tone but then shrugged. “It hurts to think you believe I’m capable of something so petty at a time like this, Alex. But I’m telling you the truth. Every time Kent walks by, Julie gets flustered and can barely speak.”

Julie threw up a hand in disgust. “How would you know that? This is the first time we’ve even met, I don’t know you …”

“I’ve watched you, Julie,” Bridget said quietly. “From my father’s box.”

“Your father’s box?” Julie looked at Alex for help.

“Her father is Gary Ritter, Jules. You know, Ritter Racing.”

“Of course,” Julie said dryly and snagged a tissue from a nearby box. She couldn’t bare this. She knew she had to explain what happened, but she also knew that after he found out, he would never forgive her or want to see her again. She had learned to endure her parents’ rejection after so many years, she wasn’t sure she could handle it if Alex rejected her, too.

“The day of the race,” Bridget began quietly, “you were one of Alex’s spotters. And you were doing a great job, I might add. So good in fact, that you were in the lead,” she said while threading her fingers through Alex’s. “You would have won that race and broke Ort’s ten win streak if you hadn’t crashed.”

“I know that, baby,” Alex said, his expression pained.

“Anyway,” Bridget said and cleared her throat before continuing. “Things were going great for you, not so great for Kent. He had crashed on lap 123. Do you remember that, Alex?”

Alex’s brow furrowed in concentration, but he shook his head. “Sort of. I heard that he had crashed, but I was too focused on the race to worry to think about it too much. Were they not able to fix his car?”

“No,” Bridget continued. “Bobby had bumped him and he went into the wall. His car was trashed.”

Alex nodded.

“So, Kent was out. He was walking back to his trailer when he passed Julie.” Both Alex and Bridget looked at Julie.

Julie swallowed hard and picked up the conversation before Bridget could continue. “He … he talked to me, Alex. He’s never done that before. I became distracted. I lost focus … I …I …” she bit her lip and tried to quell a cry. “I took my eyes off of you for a second,” she blurt out. “It’s all my fault that you’re paralyzed! I’m so sorry. Please forgive me! I don’t know how I can ever make this up to you. My God, you must hate me!” She buried her face in her hands and began crying so hard she couldn’t catch her breath. She began to hiccup in an attempt to get herself under control.

“Wait,” Bridget sat bolt upright and looked at Alex. “You’re paralyzed?”

Alex silently nodded and Bridget gasped. “Oh my God! When did … when I was here last night, I never heard, nothing was said … oh my God Alex. Is it permanent? How bad is it?”

Alex heaved a heavy sigh and turned his head away from the women. “Bad. As in I’ll likely never walk again, bad.”

Julie looked up and blinked away the tears. She hurried to Alex’s other side and kneeled down so that she could look him squarely in the eyes. “I don’t know what to say, Alex. I love you. I would never hurt you, ever. I worship you. You’ve been the only reason I’ve stuck around all these years. You’re the only family I’ve got.”

“Don’t be stupid, Julie. You have mom and dad.”

Julie vehemently shook her head. “No Alex. You know mom and dad only tolerate me. They don’t really love me.”

Alex’s eyes finally shifted away from the window and focused on her. “I can’t believe you’re still thinking of yourself and I’m stuck in this bed and …” he paused and took a steadying breath. “I will never walk again!” he yelled. Julie cringed and shrunk away. Alex had never raised his voice to her, ever. “I … can’t process this right now. I don’t know what happened. I don’t who’s to blame. I … you need to leave, Julie. I can’t … talk to you right now.”

Bridget sniffled quietly on the other side of the bed. Julie’s gaze remained fixed on her brother. “Alex. Please, tell me what I can do to make this up to you. How can I make this right? This is killing me. I don’t know what to say. If I could have taken this blow for you, I would have.”

“Get out,” Bridget said softly and blew her nose.

“This doesn’t concern you, Bridget,” Julie snarled, redirecting all of her fear, worry and apprehension onto the blonde woman.

“It damn well does concern me!” Bridget shouted. “We were going to get married, you stupid girl!”

Alex gave Bridget a sharp look. “Were?”

“Get out!” Bridget screamed. “Get out and don’t you dare show your face back here again, do you hear me?”

“Bridget,” Alex began.

“Alex?” Julie questioned, looking at him with pleading eyes. “Alex please, don’t shut me out. Let me help you.”

“Get out, Julie,” Alex said, his voice deadly calm and barely above a whisper.

Julie yelped back a cry and quickly gathered her things. “I’ll call you later …”

“No. I don’t want to talk to you, Julie. Give me some time,” said Alex.

“If you try to see him,” Bridget snarled, her nose red, her mascara smeared, “I will call security on you. If you try and call him, I’ll report a harassment suit against you. Do you understand, Julie? We do not want to see you, ever again!”

Julie looked helplessly at Alex and waited for him to say something.

He remained stoic and unresponsive. His head was turned once more and he was staring out of the window.

With a cry of anguish, Julie stumbled out of the hospital room.

NaNoWriMo

Quick NaNoWriMo Update

I think I have discovered the secret to making me write:

1. Leave house

When I leave the house, I feel like writing is more like a job. I’m only away from my regular work for three hours but in that three hours, I can, and often do, produce 3,000 words before I completely go blank.

2. Write at the MSU library.

It’s stone quiet there and I can relax and get totally into my story without getting jerked out by distractions. LOVE IT!

I’m telling you folks, 2009 is going to be THE year I start submitting my work places. I’m really fired up to continue this frantic writing pace. I have plans to revise my 2007 NaNoWriMo project in December and try to make something of it and then in January, I’m going to write a series of short stories to submit to two literary magazines that I’ve had my eye on for a while.

Usually, by this time in November, I’m so brain dead from all the writing that I can’t wait to cross the 50,000 finish line. And then when I do, I’m so burned out I don’t want to THINK about writing for a few weeks.

This year has been different. I have just as much creative energy as I did at the beginning of the month and I can’t really pinpoint why. All I know is, something has shifted inside of me and I just feel ready to take my writing to the next step.

It’s an incredible feeling.

A question to other NaNoWriMo’s out there – how are you coming along with your projects? Are you going to make it 50,000 before midnight Sunday?

Giveaway/Contests, Life, NaNoWriMo, Writing Stuff

Music, Writing, Giveaways

It’s a gorgeous day in the Ozarks and I’ve been pretty productive (so I’m happy). I got up early, took a shower and took MK to his Honors’ Band … thingie this morning. He’s scheduled to practice all day and then at 3:00 he’ll put on a concert for friends and family.

We’ll be heading back up there shortly to watch him.

After I dropped him off, I headed to the MSU library to get some writing done. And I cranked out another 3,000 words. (I was the first person to arrive at the library today and it was like a cemetery! I think I saw three people the entire time I was there – until noon. The MSU library is turning out to be my favorite place to write). The words just fell off my fingertips today and I LOVE it when that happens!! I purposefully stopped mid-thought so when I get back to it, I can pick it up where I left off and go from there (a little writing tip, in case you were wondering).

I’m currently on Chapter 11, 118 pages, and 39,018 words into it. In fact, I just printed out my book, here’s a pic:

Fall 2008 Work in Progress
(I love printing out the pages, it makes me feel like a writer!)

I’m pretty excited about this story. Things are heating up romantically between my protagonists and my antagonists are lurking in the shadows just dying to plunge the knife in their proverbial backs.

I might write tomorrow, I might not. I really want to get the Christmas decorations up this weekend so I might take tomorrow off and resume major wordage on Monday – we’ll see how it goes. All I know at this point is that that method seems to work really well for me. I write every day until I can feel the burn out and then take a few days off, subconsciously stewing over my story so when I sit back down and start writing again, it falls out of my head so quickly I can barely type fast enough to keep up.

Speaking of chapters …

If you have a few moments, please stop by Write Anything and read our current Chapter Seven project entitled: “Lost on Earth”.

It’s a science fiction story that me, and six other writers worked on and chapter two just posted today. I wrote chapter six and that will post on Wednesday. It was an especially tough challenge for me because I’m pretty clueless when it comes to science fiction – I don’t read it very much so writing it was a real challenge for me. But I had a blast doing it and I feel pretty good about my submission. Check back on Wednesday and you can tell me if you agree.

And coming up …

Beginning November 30th, you can start submitting your Coffee Chat links. If you need the prompts and/or the instructions, you can read this page. There’s a $25 Amazon gift certificate at stake to the first place winner AND a $10 Starbucks gift card to the second place winner. HELLO?! Christmas gift money and something to tide you over WHILE you’re Christmas shopping. *grin*

AND

December 1st I will be giving an ornament away to some lucky person. I’m participating in Kailani’s Christmas ornament giveaway and I thought, hey, why not buy two ornaments and give the other one away to a WFK reader?! I bought the ornament at Bass Pro Shops because we’re really into the whole outdoors thing here in the Ozarks and I thought it might be fun for someone to have a little touch of the Ozarks on their tree. I’ll take a picture of it and post it soon. So, December 1st, a unique Ozarks Christmas ornament giveaway – mark your calendars!

Okay, it’s about time for us to leave for MK’s concert. I’ll try and post some pictures later today.

I hope your Saturday is going well!

NaNoWriMo, Writing Stuff

Hard at Work, or Hardly Working?

You decide.

Working

This is me, working on this …

Working 2

OOPS! My bad. I meant to post this picture…

Working 3

Silly me.

Seriously though, I’m behind in my NaNoWriMo project and there are only nine days left in the challenge – I’m not panicking! (I will post a potato head graphic later with my current word count). So I will be spending most of the day playing catch up so try not to miss me too much.

😀

Better yet, click over to Write Anything and read the first chapter of our Chapter Seven project. It’s a science fiction story called, “Lost on Earth” and it’s pretty good, if I say so myself.

(Incidentally, if you would like to get involved in the winter 2009 Chapter Seven edition, just contact me and I’ll set you up. Don’t be shy! I don’t bite!! I still need three more writers. All you have to do is write a chapter when it’s your turn and you have like a week to write it. It’s REALLY fun taking part in a collaborative project so holler if you want in!)

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Added: NaNoWriMo Progress

Wow, day 21. It doesn’t seem like it should be day 21 already.

I’m pleased to report that I wrote 3,200 words today. Woot! You know what’s weird? I seem to write better when I’ve taken a few days off. Even though I’m not consciously thinking about my story, I must be subconsciously thinking about it because today, I holed up at the university library (BLESSEDLY quiet) and churned out 3,200 words in three hours.

I’m pretty damn proud of myself.

My story? Feels like a dog chasing it’s tail. I don’t feel like there’s enough action and it feels boring, but that’s okay, because when I go back and revise it (because hello! I’m taking advantage of the free paper book offer through Amazon.com), I can write in some exciting scenes – I think.

I plan on holing up at the library again tomorrow (it’s a cemetery on Saturdays) while my youngest son practices with his honors band and then I’ll quit when it’s time to watch his performance. That’s several hours so hopefully, I’ll really crank out the wordage.

NaNoWriMo

Reality Check – Third Excerpt

nanowrimoex-061

Here’s another installment from my 2006 NaNoWriMo project.

I have comments turned off, not because I don’t want your feedback, but because I can’t afford to think about revising at this point – I hope you understand. 🙂

Please remember, this is straight from my rough draft – I’ve done virtually no editing. 🙂

Thanks for reading and KEEP WRITING!

________________________________

She sighed. “They were in a car accident.” She closed her eyes and relived the memory as she spoke. “It was late, around 1:00 in the morning, I believe. We were coming from dad’s retirement party. It had been great,” she turned and smiled at Dalton. “The associates at Liberty really went all out. They had rented a huge auditorium at the Plaza Hotel, champagne flowed, I remember there was a lot of laughter. Everyone had pitched in and bought him a really nice silver watch AND,” she held up two fingers, “two tickets for a Caribbean cruise.” She smiled at the memory. “They were so surprised! And very excited. My father was sort of a workaholic – he would never take vacations even though mom begged him to. This cruise would have been perfect for them.” Her face fell. “They never had a chance to go.” A white hot stab of grief sliced through her heart and tears began to pool in her eyes. “I … I had been following them. We were going back to their house to wind down and just … celebrate, as a family.” She sniffed, a lone tear followed the gentle swell of her cheek.

Dalton reached for a tissue and handed it to her. She took it and blew her nose.

“I saw it happen,” her voice was so low Dalton had to lean forward in order to hear her. “A drunk driver crossed the medium and hit them. The police told me he had to be going 80 or 90 miles per hour. My folks … never … had a … chance.”

She swallowed and continued softly, her voice breaking at irregular intervals. “I watched them die.” She lifted moist, glassy eyes to him. “I slammed on my brakes and almost rear-ended them. I swerved and ran off the road. I got out of my car so fast I tripped and twisted my ankle. But I didn’t notice. All I could do was pray that my parents were okay. That they somehow survived.” She crossed back over to the bar stools and sat down. She grabbed another tissue and blew her nose again.

There was a long pause. Brenna could hear the soft rustling of leaves outside, a distant police siren, the steady tick, tick, ticking of the wall clock. “I reached the car.” She breathed in deeply. She shredded the tissue as she spoke. She could see it all so clearly. It had happened right next to a streetlight. Her parents’ car was bathed in soft blue light. She approached the vehicle from the rear. It was in perfect condition. She had almost convinced herself it had all been a bad dream until she walked around to the passenger side door and saw the shattered windshield. She hadn’t wanted to look inside the car, but she had to. If she could somehow save her parents, she had to try.

“I yanked on the passenger door. I could see my mother. Her head was resting on the headrest. Her face …” she swallowed, “her face, neck and chest were covered in blood.” She sobbed, grabbed another tissue and buried her face in it.

Dalton clasped his hands between his legs, lowered his head and sighed. “I’m so sorry, Brenna.” He didn’t offer more. There was nothing he could say that would make her feel better.

She didn’t hear him. All she could see was her mother, lying prone on the seat, her beautiful lavender silk blouse soaked in blood. She wasn’t breathing.

“I knew she was dead,” she continued, her voice toneless, dead. “I ran to the driver’s side. I could see my father slumped over the steering wheel. His head was resting on his right hand, his left hand was on the dashboard, as if he were still bracing for impact. He wasn’t bleeding, at least on the outside,” she added, almost as an afterthought. “His eyelids fluttered. I think I screamed, ‘DAD!’ though I can’t be sure. All I remember was trying to frantically get his door open. It was crumbled inward. I pulled so hard I dislocated my right shoulder. But I didn’t know that until later.” She stated matter of factly.

“I opened the car door behind him and crawled into the back seat. I scrambled to reach him, desperate to save him.

“He was breathing, but only barely. I could hear a soft wheeze with each labored breath. I gently touched his shoulder as I leaned in between them.

‘Dad,’ I said. ‘Help is on the way. Hang on, please hang on.’ I couldn’t see his face very clearly, he had it turned toward the window, but I could hear something, a raspy whispering, as if he were trying to talk to me. I stopped breathing and listened.

‘Is she dead?’ I wasn’t sure what to tell him. My parents have always had a sixth sense when it came to each other. They were so in love you see,” she sputtered an exasperated, desperate chuckle. “I knew he would know if I lied. But I tried, I honestly tried.

‘I think she’s okay, unconscious, but okay.’ He didn’t believe me. ‘She’s dead, isn’t she.’ What could I say? So I said nothing. ‘You’re going to be okay, dad. Just please, hang on. Some other cars have stopped. I’m sure someone has called 911.’ I can’t be sure of this part,” she paused and tilted her head toward the ceiling as if studying the tiles would somehow confirm her doubts, “but I think he chuckled. ‘You could never lie to me, Bren. I know she’s gone. I can’t feel her presence anymore.’ He said. I began to cry. I couldn’t handle this, I couldn’t handle watching him die. I could hear sirens in the background, help was coming. ‘Dad, do you hear that? They’re coming, hang on. Please, dear God, don’t leave me.

I love you, Brenna’ he had said. And I knew. I knew as soon as he heard mom was dead he was going to give up. His soul mate, his lover, his best friend was gone. There was simply nothing left for him to live for. I stroked his hair. I kept talking to him. I kept fooling myself into thinking he was still breathing and trying to cling to life.

He was dead before the ambulance reached us.”

NaNoWriMo

Racing Heart – Third Excerpt

Racing Heart

I’ll be posting excerpts from my 2008 National Novel Writing Month project, Racing Heart, every Tuesday in November. I have comments turned off, not because I don’t want your feedback, but because I can’t afford to think too much about what I’m doing at this point – I hope you understand. 🙂

I didn’t get as much writing in as I would have liked. It’s amazing how much time is needed just to churn out 2,000 words – time I am having difficulty squeezing out of my schedule at the moment. (Notice I didn’t say I didn’t have time, I am simply choosing to spend that time elsewhere, like sleeping off caffeine headaches, for example. Grr).

But I can’t say I’m really surprised. I tend to slack off in week two and especially in week three. Today is my husband and son’s birthdays – after today, I should be back on the writing wagon. Of course, there’s still Christmas shopping to do and considering the boys want things from websites that take a while to ship …. I probably should get started right away.

Enough with the excuses. I’m now officially behind, not by much, but behind. I plan on heading to the library today, pounding out 2,000 words, take my son out of school for lunch (he rejected me – waah!), then back home to clean house for our party tonight. I can do this – I WILL do this.

Thanks for reading.

_____________________________

Chapter One (continued)
You can read the prologue and the first part of chapter one.

“Your spine was crushed, Alex,” the doctor began before stopping to clear his throat. “I tried to repair as much of the spinal column as I could, but your nerves were simply …” He paused and looked at both Mike and Helen, “well, they were in pretty bad shape. I’m afraid I wasn’t able to save it”

“So,” began her father, his voice sounding faint and far away, “you’re saying this is permanent? He’ll never walk again?”

“Well,” the doctor began, “nothing is really permanent. With lots of hard work and physical therapy, it’s possible that Alex will walk with the aid of crutches …”

“Crutches!” Mike yelled and the entire room started in surprise at the outburst. “You mean, he’ll never race again?”

Julie sputtered a bitter chuckle of surprise at her father’s one-track mind. Did the man NEVER think of anything else?

Her father shot her a look so full of venom and hostility that Julie actually blinked in surprise.

He’s never going to forgive me, she thought.

“Race?” The doctor asked, his expression confused.

“My brother is Alex Meadows, doctor. Three-time Winston Cup winner.”

The doctor flipped back to the front of Alex’s chart and then nodded. “Right. I’m sorry, I didn’t recognize the name as being THE Alex Meadows.” He turned toward Julie’s father. “I’m terribly sorry, Mr. Meadows. This must be doubly devastating for you.”

Mike Meadows studied the doctor for long moments before shifting his eyes to Helen. They stared at each other for several more moments and as if they had communicated telepathically, Mike suddenly turned to the doctor and Helen, releasing Alex’s hand, began gathering up his things.

“Right then, we’re taking him.”

“Uh … what a minute, what?” the doctor sputtered in confusion.

“We’re taking him home.”

“But he’s not ready. He needs more tests and …”

“And we’ll hire a private nurse and he can have all of those tests done at our house.”

“But Mr. Meadows, I don’t think you understand Alex’s condition, it’s serious. Very serious.”

“You think I don’t understand what’s going on here? You think I don’t get the fact that my son, my pride and joy, will never get behind the wheel of a race car again? You think I don’t understand that it’s my daughter’s fault that Alex is lying here right this very minute?”

Helen gasped and Julie swayed from the verbal impact of his resentment towards her.

“I’m sorry dad. I’m really, really sorry. I didn’t see Bobby coming up on the outside. I assumed Alex had plenty of room to pass. I had no idea Bobby would suddenly turn aggressive like that. I didn’t mean …”

Mike held up his hand and Julie stopped talking. “I know what you were doing, Julie, and it wasn’t your job!” he yelled so loudly his cheeks filled with angry color.

“Well, it certainly doesn’t sound boring in here,” a blonde woman said as she breezed in, a large bouquet of colorful flowers clasped between her hands. She placed the vase of flowers on the table next to the bed and leaned in to give Alex a soft, intimate kiss on the lips. “What sort of trouble are you stirring up now, sweetheart?” she purred against Alex’s mouth.

“Hey beautiful, I was wondering if you were going to show up,” said Alex.

“And miss this soap opera? I think not,” the woman said while turning to the trio standing awkwardly off to the side.

“Hello Bridget,” Helen said and moved forward to politely give her a light kiss on the cheek.

“Mrs. Meadows, it’s nice to see you again. Mr. Meadows,” Bridget said while nodding to the older gentleman. “And you must be Julie,” she said while extending her hand.

Julie studied the woman for long seconds before offering her hand. She really didn’t care if she was being rude or not. This woman was being rude by walking into the middle of a family … affair.

She cringed inwardly. She hated to call it a family feud, but it was now apparent that her father was going to hold her responsible for Alex’s accident.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said. She hadn’t really meant for the tone of her voice to be quite so brusque, but she was irritated, worried and just a little scared that her rocky relationship with her father, the relationship she had been working for her entire life to strengthen, was indeed over before it really began.

A nurse walked into the room and then stopped abruptly. “There are way too many people in this room.” She nodded toward Helen. “Someone needs to leave. There should only be two other people in this room besides the patient and the doctor.

“Julie was just leaving,” Mike Meadows growled out.

“Dad,” Alex said. “I need to talk to Julie. Can you give us a few minutes, please?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Alex,” said Mike.

“Yeah, I might go nuts and slip you some poison in your IV or something,” Julie said bitterly.

“Oh for Christ’s sake!” Mike yelled.

Helen moved toward her husband and taking him by the arm, began leading him to the door. “Alright honey,” she crooned, “let’s go get some coffee. It’s been a long night and we still need to figure out how we’re going to get Alex out of here.”

The couple passed by Julie as they were exiting the room.

“Thanks mom,” Julie said quietly.

Helen gave her a quick, sad smile. Mike pointedly ignored her.

“Right,” said the doctor and hooked Alex’s chart at the foot of his bed. “I’ll be back later to check on you. If you need anything …”

Alex merely nodded and the room remained quiet until both the doctor and nurse left.

NaNoWriMo

Reality Check – Second Excerpt

nanowrimoex-061

Here’s another installment from my 2006 NaNoWriMo project.

I have comments turned off, not because I don’t want your feedback, but because I can’t afford to think about revising at this point – I hope you understand. 🙂

Please remember, this is straight from my rough draft – I’ve done virtually no editing. 🙂

Thanks for reading and KEEP WRITING!

________________________________

She slammed out of the car, entered the shop and stalked to the smiling, waiting girl behind the counter.

“I’d like a six-inch turkey and swiss on whole wheat bread please. A small amount of mayo, honey mustard, cucumbers, tomato and lettuce.”

The girl’s smile dropped at her clipped tone of voice “Of course.” She took out the bread, slapped on some turkey and swiss cheese and slid the sandwich down to the boy next to her.

Dalton walked up to the girl and smiled, silently apologizing to her for Brenna’s bad manners. The girl visibly relaxed and returned his smile.

Brenna rolled her eyes and watched the boy put the condiments on her sandwich. She wasn’t sure why she was so annoyed with Dalton. He was only doing his job. And she wasn’t sure why she felt reluctant to talk about Marcus. All she knew was that she wasn’t quite ready to do so.

She had reached the cashier and waited.

“Would you like chips and a drink?” another pimply-faced boy asked her.

“No.”

“Uh … okay, that’ll be $3.69 then.”

“He’s paying.” She nodded her head toward Dalton.

Dalton walked up to them. “What’s the holdup?”

“I’m waiting for you to pay.”

“I’m …?” Dalton scowled and pulled out his wallet. “Fine, whatever.”

Brenna snatched up her sandwich, snagged a cup for her water and walked to a corner booth. She slid in as Dalton approached. She held out her cup.

“Water please, lots of ice.”

“What am I, your servant?” he snapped.

“You are if you want your questions answered,” she shot back calmly.

“You don’t have a choice, Ms. Foster,” his eyes began to darken with irritation.

She continued to hold out her cup. He continued to stare at her.

Seconds ticked by as they continued to look at one another.

He snorted in disgust. “Fine.” He snatched the cup from her fingers and headed to the soda fountain.

She smiled and unwrapped her sandwich. She was beginning to like him.

Dalton returned and dropped her cup of water in front of her. “Did anyone ever tell you you’re irritating?”

“Did anyone ever tell you you’re nosy?”

“That’s my job, missy.”

“Why are you so interested in my boyfriend? What has he got to do with anything at all? And don’t call me missy.” She sunk her teeth into her sandwich.

Dalton sighed and sat back in the booth. He crossed his arms and studied her before saying, “You really have no idea, do you.”

“Wha arliugliut,” she paused to chew before continuing, “what are you talking about?” She nabbed a napkin and dabbed the corners of her mouth.

“Marcus Waters is …” he paused. He really didn’t want to hurt this woman but he had to know if her relationship with Marcus was really over, for Jackie’s sake.

“Yeah? Marcus Waters is … an outlaw? A criminal? A crooked lawyer? A Republican? A law-abiding citizen? Is a …”

“My brother-in-law.”

“Your … what?” A lump of turkey lodged in her throat. She began coughing.

“My brother-in-law.” He arched a brow as her coughing continued. “Take a drink of water.”

She began flapping her hands in front of her face.

“What, are you choking or something?” He scoffed.

Brenna wrapped her hands around her throat and her face began turning various shades of purple.

“Oh God, you ARE choking.” He scrambled out of his seat, grabbed a handful of her sweater and pulled her toward him. The heel of her boot caught on the back of the seat as she was exiting the booth and she fell into Dalton. He caught her and spun her around. Balling a hand into a fist, he placed it just under her diaphragm. Using the palm of his other hand, he wrapped it over his fist.

“Okay Brenna, let’s do this.” He jerked back against her abdomen in quick, staccato movements.

Brenna jumped like a rag doll against him with each thrust.

Finally, the bit of meat flew from her mouth and landed on their table.

She gasped for air. She turned around and hugged him to her. She couldn’t speak, so she squeezed her thanks instead.

He resisted the urge to hug her back. He could get used to this sort of gratitude. He released a nervous chuckle, both at his thoughts and at her public display, “My pleasure, little lady.” He helped her back into her seat. “Here, drink some water.”

She took a few small sips before resting her forehead in the palm of her hand. The other patrons in the shop began to settle back down once they realized the excitement was over.

“Geez, could I BE any more stupid?” Her chin was resting on her chest, her voice came out muffled and husky.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she paused to take in long, deep breaths. “I am now. You don’t truly appreciate the simple act of breathing until you can’t anymore.”

“I can imagine.”

“Sorry about that.”

He crossed his arms and grinned at her. “You’ll do anything to get out of being questioned, won’t you.”

“Oh, hardy-har-har,” she grumbled. “Eat your sandwich, it’s getting cold.”

He chuckled and picked up his roast beef. “Seriously, are you okay?”

“I’m good for another day at least.” She picked up her sandwich and eyed it doubtfully. “So, back to Marcus … he can’t be your brother-in-law; he’s not married.”