It finally turned into winter here in southern California. And by "winter", I mean rain and temperatures below 70F. For us, it's a nice change. At least when I go run my errands today, I can wear a hoodie. (I love hoodies. Just FYI.) Also on my Sunday to-do list is writing with my beloved Chris Owen. We're nearing the end of the second novel in the Never Too Early series and we have a release date, which also means a deadline. Ready? Mark your calendars..........
The book is due to the publisher by the end of this month, and in between the holidays and family and present-wrapping, we have to find time to finish it. We wrote yesterday, we'll write today, and hopefully meet our deadline.
Just to keep you interested, here's a little snippet from it. Have a good week, everyone!
Jake snorted out a laugh and immediately regretted it. "Ow. Okay, welcome to our house. The maid hasn’t been in a while. Something about a roof." Honestly, he thought it said something about the level of drugs in his system if he was worried about the state of the housekeeping with his head and ribs aching the way they were. He went in and headed directly to the couch, following Tor and knowing Chance was right there if he got wobbly.
He figured he had three minutes before people started arriving at the door. Elias would be first, he could feel it in his bones.
Well, the bones that were capable of feeling anything other than intense pain.
"Easy, easy!" Tucker put a hand on his arm. "Hang on a second." He reached down and arranged the couch cushions so Jake wouldn't have to do it after he was already sitting. "Go slow. I mean it."
Jake had to sigh, then promised himself that was the last one. "Let me -- " He grabbed Tucker’s arms and lowered himself down with a grunt he couldn’t quite stifle. "Oh, man." He was a little breathless, and had to resist the urge to rub his ribs where they ached.
This sucked, and for a brief moment he wondered if he really should have left the hospital. He wasn’t in so much pain he was ill from it, but he was far from relaxed. "Thanks," he managed to say, though.
"You need to turn so you're lying down," Chance said, sounding a little apologetic. "It will be less painful, I promise. Tor, can you get his drugs? They're in a pharmacy bag in my duffel. And he needs something to eat with them."
"Yeah, sure." Tor hurried off, yelling over his shoulder. "Eggs, Taggart. And actual toast. Real bread."
Jake rolled his eyes. He couldn’t really care less what the food was. "Are these pills addictive? ‘Cause I don’t really care at this point." Trying to lie down was way harder than it had ever been before in his life.
"Yes." Chance leaned over and helped Jake get his legs in the right position, and suddenly Jake could breathe again without stabbing pain. "But I promise not to let you turn into a Vicodin junkie."