WIPpet Wednesday

Happy Wednesday! Wow, I can’t believe I haven’t posted since before Christmas.

It’s been a rough start to the new year, but hopefully things are on track now. I’ve had a couple big editing jobs, so writing time has been hit or miss. Mostly miss. But I’m still making progress. I haven’t decided what my writing goals are this year. I know I won’t be able to finish more than a couple projects, so it’s likely to be Minuet and hopefully a novella.

Speaking of Minuet, here’s another snippet. Mack’s decision to invite company over might have been originally to get his mind off his troubles, but it’s looking like it might work out okay. Edited to remove some spoiler-y stuff. Warning for language.

WIPmath: 1/9/2019 = 1 + 9 = 10 short paragraphs

An hour and a half later, Jomari rolled off Mack, panting, his light bronze skin glistening with sweat. Mack stretched then placed his hands behind his head. He closed his eyes, wanting to imprint every detail into his brain. God, Jomari was a stud.

“Hey.”

The soft word made Mack open one eye to squint at Jomari. He could’ve done without any talking. Why ruin the moment? All he wanted was to bask in it, not have a conversation. Especially not the one he suspected was on the horizon.

“Hm?” He intentionally made it sound sleepier than he felt in hopes of deferring some mushy nonsense about where their relationship was going.

“What are we doing here?”

Oh, God. And there it was. “I dunno,” Mack mumbled. He sighed and rolled to face Jomari. “Dozing off after a spectacular fuck? At least, I was trying to.”

To Mack’s surprise, Jomari laughed. “No, I meant whether we’re planning to go again or if I should leave.”

Now Mack’s eyes popped wide open. He propped himself on his elbow. “Gotta admit, that’s not what I was expecting.”

“I realized that as soon as I said it. Sometimes my mouth gets ahead of my brain.” Jomari snickered. “Sorry. Anyway, about my question…”

“You can stay.” Mack hid his relief behind a chuckle at Jomari’s raised eyebrow. It would’ve been too hard to explain his need for company; he didn’t think they were that close friends yet.

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 Wrayburn for giving us this space. Happy reading and writing!

Happy Wednesday! It’s been a rocky few days, but only a couple more before school is out for a week. Hoping everyone can hang in there for just a little while longer.

My older child is performing with a choir of high schoolers from around the county for the next 5 days. They’re singing with our local professional orchestra at their annual holiday pops concert. I’m looking forward to hearing them!

Meanwhile, I’ve gotten almost no work done on this manuscript, again. I really do need to finish it, and my goal was the end of the month. Hahaha! Um.

Anyway, here’s a bit that follows on from last week’s. Mack was talking himself out of having a drink (bad idea). Here, he’s talking himself into inviting some company for the night (better idea).

WIPmath: 12/19/2018 = (1 x 9) – (1 + 2) = 6 paragraphs

A warm body. That’s what he needed. It would’ve been plenty easy to head over to Grand Slam. Mack was reasonably confident his occasional hook-up, the Bio-Queen, was performing that night. She went by Candie Gram, and she was hot, funny as hell, and nowhere near as old as her stage name and makeup implied. They didn’t have sex while she was in drag.

He didn’t relish the long train ride, though, and he needed to stay away from anywhere he might be tempted to drink. Besides, he didn’t think Candie was who he had in mind. Everything with her was over a bit too fast, which was fine if that’s what he was chasing.

Tonight, he wanted someone to absorb his restless energy. Someone who wouldn’t be here and gone in less time than it would’ve taken Mack to just use his own hand. Someone like…

His gaze landed on the silver cross still sitting on his bedside table. He had to return it anyway; maybe he could make it worth both their while. If he was lucky, Jomari might spend the night again. Mack quickly shook that idea off. Just because he didn’t need to work the next morning didn’t mean Jomari had the day off. It was the middle of the week, and most people had jobs with more reasonable hours than Mack’s. Maybe Jomari wouldn’t want to come over at all.

Only one way to find out. Mack picked up the cross, which was setting on top of the paper Jomari had left with his number.

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 Wrayburn for giving us this space. Happy reading and writing!

Happy Wednesday! I haven’t done a lot of writing in Minuet, but it’s okay. I’ve been reorganizing the chapter files. It’s time consuming, but it isn’t a big deal due to the way I write (that is, not in a straight line). I’ve missed Mack, Amelia, and the gang.

We’re heading into the last week before Christmas with a full plate. My kids both have concerts next week at school, and my older one is singing with our local professional orchestra along with many other teens from around the county. Should be fun!

I was super excited to see Minuet listed on the release schedule for next year. It’s due out in September, and my publisher wants it by the end of April. Plenty of time, but I still need to get cracking on it. I already know exactly how it ends.

In today’s snippet, Jamie is still away (for reasons that I won’t spoil, but anyone who has read Drumbeat will know). Mack hasn’t quite learned to balance his attachments or figure out where all the healthy lines are.

Content note: Mack’s a recovering alcoholic. He’s contemplating drinking again (nothing too heavy in this part) and recalling a moment with his (also alcoholic) mother.

WIPmath: 12/12/2018 = (1 x 2) + 1 + 2 = 5 paragraphs

Mack had the night off, and he was in a mood. The mood. The itch hit him forcefully in a way it hadn’t in a long time. Mack hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol in over five years. Not that he hadn’t wanted to or come close in all that time. But he’d had Jamie then. Countless nights that first year, when Jamie and Amelia were there every time he gave in. And when he was finally sober, Jamie was there for him again.

Jamie wasn’t there now, and the combination of the gaping hole he’d left and Mack’s internal buzzing brought back a whole lot of buried desires. He wanted something to take the edge off. He hadn’t seen Amelia in days, he still missed Jamie, and he was keyed up.

At first, he tried funneling the feeling into writing a new song. The lyrics wouldn’t come, and he couldn’t settle down enough to focus. He bounced off the couch and wandered into the kitchen, where he poured himself a glass of water. Standing by the sink, he paused. If he wanted, he could have something stronger. He could cave, and no one would know. 

A memory surfaced of his mother, standing in exactly the same position he was now. She was at the sink, not with a glass of water but with a carrot and a knife, making dinner. Singing. Probably already halfway to drunk. The knife slipped, and—

Mack’s hand shook, sloshing water over the edge of the glass. The cold splash woke him up. He remembered what Jamie had said before he left, about not wanting to become his mother. Mack understood. He gulped the water, the cool liquid sliding down his burning throat. It wasn’t enough, but he would have to live with that.

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 Wrayburn for giving us this space. Happy reading and writing!