Happy Wednesday! First the big news: I just re-released my short story, Pink in the Mirror, which was formerly published with Torquere. If you like the 1950s, drag racing, and women who love women, you might enjoy it. Here’s my blog post about it with the fabulous (and very pink!) cover as well as all the purchase links.
Since today is International Women’s Day, I’m going to give one copy of Pink in the Mirror to a random commenter (comments left here and on other social media are all included). If you don’t want to be entered for that, just say so in your comment. If you do, then make sure I have a way to contact you if you win.
On to the WIPpet. I’m currently posting from my anthology-in-progress. These are all stories set in the same world as Cat, Micah, & co. They are not primarily romance, and not all of them are LGBTQIA-themed. I’m sticking with LR again this week. She’s emerged from her nap, but she’s not ready to talk about what’s on her mind yet. First, dinner with her family.
WIPmath: 3/8 = 3 + 8 = 11 paragraphs, mostly dialog.
LR crept out of her room. The headache wasn’t gone, but it was better than it had been. She descended the stairs and entered the kitchen. Cat had a paper in hand, and Dad was looking it over and humming, nodding his approval. Maybe a song Cat had written. Mom was heating something on the stove. All three looked up when LR cleared her throat.
“LR!” Mom exclaimed, leaving the pot on the stove and coming over. “I thought you were going away with friends.”
“I, uh, wasn’t feeling up to it.”
Mom put a hand on her forehead. “You’re awfully pale, but you don’t feel warm.”
LR sniffled for effect. “Maybe just a cold or something. I have a headache,” she added, hoping it would make her story more plausible.
Nodding, Mom said, “Better to get rest, then. It’s not a lot of fun to travel while sick, and you risk sharing germs.”
“You want something to eat? I’m heating up the leftover sausage soup from last night.”
LR’s stomach lurched at the thought of putting anything, especially spicy soup, in it. “No, thanks.”
She wanted to go back to bed. No one would have objected. But Cat was eying her, and not in a way that made her think he merely felt bad for her. His expression clearly said, we’ll talk later. She should have known she wouldn’t be able to keep anything from him.
Sliding into a seat at the table, she said, “I changed my mind. Soup sounds good.”
Like what you read? Be sure to check out the other entries and add your own. Just post a bit of your WIP, connect it to the date, and link up with us. Many thanks to Emily Witt for giving us this space. Happy reading and writing!