Once again the week has rolled around and it is Wednesday. That means inspiring writing prompts and new words, right? Right! So, #1lineWed was a little more imganitive for this week. The prompt is **GRASP: A good. At straws. The nettles.” (Don’t ask me what that last one means. I have no clue but that’s the prompt so…whatever.) #ThursdayThreads prompt is much better: “I’ll think about it.” The following is a fun little snippet I tossed together. Again, the scene occurs near the beginning of the book and provides a glimpse into Meg and Kin’s budding…relationship. I hope you enjoy.
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The midday rest break was over. Meg had one more thing to do before they resumed their hike. While she didn’t mind shepherding the girls when they had to go, she preferred privacy. She’d found a place before lunch where bushy trees would screen her from sight and it was far enough away that no one would hear her either. The precious packet of tissues snuggled in her pocket.
She checked where everyone was. The kids still sat on the ground grabbing one more moment of rest. Two of the soldiers were nowhere to be seen. The commander and Petrov stood at the head of the trail studying a map. The rest of the men policed the area to clear all evidence of their passage.
“Now or never,” she muttered since no one was paying her any attention. She darted up the gentle slope heading for the spot she’d picked out. She dodged around a large tree and stopped dead as a man materialized in front of her.
Meg attempted to step around the tall man with the fascinating eyes. He leaned slightly to block her. Consternation coating her voice, she demanded, “Move out of my way.”
“Not a chance, lass.”
“I’m not a lass. I’m an adult.” He muttered something under his breath that sounded like, “Then act like one,” but she wasn’t sure.
“Why are you being so stubborn?”
“’Tis my job at the moment.”
“Well, you could stop doing it. Or let someone else do it.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“You’ll think about it? Don’t bother. If you have to think about it, I already know the answer.”
“And that would be?”
“No.”
Kin did not smile. The woman’s cheeks were already flushed with temper and as tempted as he was to provoke her even more, he’d regret subjecting the others to her ire. Besides, this was a private game between the two of them.
“Let me make something perfectly clear, provided your pea-sized male brain can grasp the concept.”
When she paused to breathe, Kin arched one brow in both challenge and amusement. Her eyes narrowed to angry slits and he was reminded again of the kitten he’d once rescued from a bucket of water.
“You are not the boss of me.”
He still didn’t laugh, though he wanted to. Desperately. Instead, he lowered the arched brow and raised the other. “Is that the best you’ve got?”
Sputtering, so angry now she couldn’t speak, she hit his chest with closed fists and growled in frustration. She actually growled. What was up with that? How did this guy push all of her buttons?
“Was that supposed to hurt?”
She growled again and couldn’t resist hitting him again, but with only one fist. “Yes.”
“Ah,” he said, nodding. “Then…ow.”
“Go away.”
“No one wanders off alone.”
“I’m not wandering. I’m going—.” She bit off the rest of her sentence as she felt her cheeks heat.
“Ah,” Kin said again, sounding all wise and knowledgeable. “Be sure to bury the evidence.”
Growling so more, she stomped toward her spot. When he started to follow her, she stopped and stabbed a finger at him. “I am perfectly capable of peeing by myself. Stay here.”
Ignoring the slow grin spreading across his face, she kept walking until she reached the trees and bushes she’d picked out and ducked behind them. She did not waste any time taking care of business. Once she was done, she obliterated all sign of her presence and headed down the hill.
As she brushed past him, he asked, “Feel better now?”
She didn’t even glance back as she snarled, “No.”
Kin rubbed his chin as he watched her retreat from him, far too fascinated by the chit for his own good. Or hers. This was going to be a long trip.
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There you have it. I’ll admit, I don’t often mention the “call of nature” in a book. I mean, we all have to go, right? And when Iffy leads me merrily down that path, it usually leads to a bit of light-hearted banter. Let’s face it, with a Wolf for a mate, a gal needs to be “bush trained,” right? (And yes, there is a similar scene in BLOOD MOON between Hannah and Mac.) Anyway, wruters feel free to grab a prompt and write with it. Readers, who else carries a pack of tissues in case of emergency? 🙋🏼♀️
Today, the Universe seems to be spot on when it comes to writing. Every writer has their own process. Some of us draft “dirty”–simply getting the bare bones of the story down before going back to flesh it out by adding descriptions, dimenstions to the characters, and dialogue. Ah yes. The 3Ds. These are the seasonings a writer addes to the stew their imagination has cooked up. We write it. Edit it. Format it. Publish it (or our pulibhers do). The tiime comes when we hold the finished product in our hands (or on our ereaders) and stare, with a tiny bit of wonder. Even after 50 books, I still get that twinge of OMG! I DID THIS! The Universe sums it up like this:
Silver James 