RSS Winter Writing Fes 2016 Update #5: The Who’s Who of my WIP world.

RSS Winter Writing Festival 2016

Hello penultimate update!

For the past five weeks I’ve been participating in the Ruby Slippered Sisterhood‘s Winter Writing Festival. What is the festival about other than writing?

It’s a motivator over the dreary weather to get BIC HOK and reach the writing-related goals you set yourself for the 50-day duration of the Fest. And why is it so brilliant?

Because there’s NO arbitrary goal for all the participants to reach, other than the 50 pts. reward system that lets you access a shiny winner’s banner — still if you were to join today and write for the next 10ish days left, you could award yourself 5pts./day and win that badge (and of course getting to your writing, that’s a prize in itself).

My goal for the month and a half journey is to write 250/daily. So far, so good. I gotta keep up for another week and a half, not that I plan to stop writing afterwards. One thing I’m going to be taking away from the RSS Fest is the remainder of how much I love writing for me!

I’ve been worrying so much about writing for others, I’ve forgotten that I enjoy telling stories and would be telling stories even if I am not aiming for an audience some day.

So I’m going to do something different on here: I’ll share a snippet from one of my projects during this Festival. I can’t share most because I’ve been freelancing and that’s all to remain Top Sekrit forever. *zips lips*

I can share an excerpt from the 1st chapter of the Harlequin Med Romance that got rejected during a fast-track opportunity. I still love the H/h, so it’s likely I’ll analyze and re-tweak the story before subbing Round Two (probably to another line though — Medicals aren’t really my thing).

Before I share that with you I’d like to introduce the stars, Dr. Erik Boone and his grandmother’s nursing aide, Libby Glass. He’s looking to compete with his half-siblings to inherit his grandmother’s estate and assets to liquidate some and provide initial funds towards expanding the medical house call program in their county. Libby has his grandmother’s confidence and she’s been elected as one of the judges — so she shouldn’t be pursing her attraction to the broody Doc, bias won’t work in her favor especially as grandmother and grandson aren’t on the best of terms.

It CLEARLY needs work, but for now, as promised, the snippet of Chapter One:

Any question he had cut off short at the sight of his grandmother, pale and senseless, propped against the desk.

“What happened?”

Libby choked out an explanation, going over the details of her day up to the point of her discovering Norma.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with her,” she said, sniffling like she had when she called him over the phone. One phone call redirecting his schedule and making this house call come a few hours earlier.

“That looks like it hurts.”

His gaze rested on Norma’s hand over Libby’s arm, noting the area was growing red, agitated, indicating the older woman’s strength even when she looked ready to be knocked down by the light breeze rattling the French windows of the first-floor room.

“She won’t let go of me.” Libby showed him, settling the phone between her shoulder and ear. That must be the operator keeping her on the line, pumping her of information and passing off news to the paramedics in route. He’d put two-and-two together.

“May I?” Erik moved at her nod. He rested his hand atop his grandmother’s fingertips brushing Libby’s arms.

The pretty nursing assistant watched him. Erik didn’t need to look up to confirm her green-brown mottled eyes followed his movements, probably warily. It was a look he was used to around the type of patients and family members in his line of work.

He checked anyways, and more out of facing those eyes.

“I want to check her pulse,” his lips twitched before adding, “And to get you freed from your prison.”

As Erik expected Libby relaxed, slightly. It was enough for now though; enough for him to alleviate her staring and throw off some of the heat coming from touching her. No amount of medical training could explain the strange workings of human attraction.

What brought two people together in a love match? Why choose one person as opposed to another?

Why love anyways?

Science tried answering those questions, but too much speculation weighed every theory.

And psychiatry wasn’t his expertise or his friend.

That remainder tossed him into the present. Freeing Libby took some gentle working on both their parts, Erik prying off his grandmother’s fingers and Libby moving out of Norma’s reach with the phone.

“Sorry,” she murmured once he signalled the phone cord’s bisecting his ability to get to Norma. When Libby crawled around him her perfume teased his nose, kissed his mouth and rolled around his tongue long after she’d given him breathable room.

“How is it?”

“It’s thready.” Erik removed his fingers and shook his head, flipping off the asymmetrical black fringe spearing his gaze. “I can’t diagnose anything on the spot, of course. But did you notice any changes in her as of late?”

“Changes?” Libby’s eyes lit up with her understanding. “Health-wise, you mean?”

“Yes.” Erik’s brow rose at Libby’s coloring. “As opposed to?”

“Yesterday Mrs. Boone fired the house-cleaning company after one of the employees broke a glass,” she lowered her voice, tactfully more than tastefully her darting eyes suggested. Clever girl; where it took him almost two decades, a month and she’s understood it doesn’t pay to be on Norma Boone’s bad side.

“I see. I guess that does qualify for a change, and I should have been more specific. By changes, I meant in her medication and specifically any unusual behavior that could suggest side-effects or a bad reaction?”

“No. None of that.” She had the mouthpiece covered with a hand as she replied. Her eyes screwed up, forehead puckering. “She was supposed to take her pill at eleven, and I realized I missed it by an hour.”

The rest he knew from her recap earlier.


There! A short (maybe vague) who’s who and what’s what on my sorta-WIP.

Thanks for reading to this point!

Until then,


RSS Winter Writing Fest update closing marker

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