Wednesday Words: Don’t Let the Door Hit You

wurkn-on-mai-plan-for-word-domination-caleb-pupHump Day has once again rolled around and the #1lineWed prompt opens a lot of *DOOR*s. shifty-eyes-ani2faster

So, I finished the first, VERY rough draft of CLAIMING THE COWGIRL’S BABY, RDR#6 yesterday afternoon. Today, I’m scrambling to edit it and get it sent back to Mr. HQEd in NYC. Since I’m opening and closing doors, I thought I’d grab a snippet from it. This is in Chapter 1, and it has NOT been edited. At all. So…

Removing his cowboy hat, he reached for the bandanna in his hip pocket, only to discover there wasn’t one. Instead, his fingers encountered the crumpled envelope—a certified letter requesting his presence at this place and time. And he had no freaking idea why. Cyrus Barron had hired him straight out of Oklahoma State University to run the Crown B Ranch, putting him in charge rather than one of Mr. Barron’s five sons. Was that why he’d been summoned?

He’d dressed up—for him. Starched jeans with a knife-edged crease, buttoned-up shirt, polished boots. No bandanna to wipe the sweat from his forehead, no spurs jangling as he walked. Kade used an index finger to ease the pressure of his collar against his throat. Hat in hand, he entered the building.

Kade stayed pressed into a back corner as the elevator stopped on lower floors. People got on and off. A few women smiled. Several men did double takes before their expressions turned speculative. This wasn’t first time his presence engendered that reaction. He wondered what people saw in him that created this response. Was it his Chickasaw heritage? His mother had been a full-blood. He knew nothing about his father.

By the time the elevator doors opened on the 36th floor, Kade was the sole occupant. He stepped into an impressive reception area defined by dark wood and leather. Both receptionists—one male, one female—glanced up. The young man frowned, the slightly older woman smiled.

Hat still in his hands, he approached the desk. “Ah…good morning? I think I have an appoint—”

Smile still in place, the woman interrupted him. “Good morning, Mr. Waite. Heidi, Mr. Barron’s assistant, will be here momentarily.”

He eyed the plush leather couches and the tall-backed chairs in the waiting area wondering if he should sit down. The tall mahogany doors that led to the inner sanctum of Barron & Associates, the law firm headed up by Chance Barron, opened, making a decision unnecessary. A petite, dark-haired woman bustled toward him.

“Good morning, Kaden.” She extended her hand and he automatically shook it.
What’s in store for our intrepid cowboy? And what do y’all have in store for me? What doors have you opened or closed in your stories? Anything you want to share?

Oh, I DID “win” NaNoWriMo. RDR#6 came in at 50,016, though I hope to lose betwee 1-2K in editing. Plus, I did work on NIGHT FIRE, so that counted to. I’ll certify at some point today so I get my certificate and other goodies. 😉

About Silver James

I like walks on the wild side and coffee. Lots of coffee. Warning: My Muse runs with scissors. Author of several award-winning series--Moonstruck, Nightriders MC, The Penumbra Papers, and Red Dirt Royalty (Harlequin Desire) & other books! Purveyor of magic, mystery, mayhem and romance. Lots and lots of romance.
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2 Responses to Wednesday Words: Don’t Let the Door Hit You

  1. Squee! Cannot wait.

    I started Rescue Moon yesterday. Squee for that, too!

    I got nuthin’ this morning. Need more coffee. Need an infusion of brain. Need more sleep. One or all of the above.

    • Silver James says:

      Yay! I’m glad. I need more sleep too. And caffeine. And a brain. And FB and WordPress aren’t playing nice. And the blog I was going to put up today was based on a link that won’t work so I’m just going to sit and pout today. Maybe tomorrow’s sinema will post. 🙄

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