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December 20, 2014

It’s The Note Ghost!!!

January 23, 2015

 

cute

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You see that note card with my picture on the back? Well, I ordered some more author swag to give away, and I decided to do note cards too. On the front is the picture of one of my heroes and on the back is me with my webpage address. I don’t want to show the front because I want it to be a surprise for my blog contest winners this year. Anyways, I put all the neat stuff on the dining room table to show Honey like I usually do…only? I had the card facing out with the hero side visible. This is the conversation:

“How do you like my stuff?”

“Everything looks great. Even me.” He points to the card with the ripped guy on it and grins.

Me? Not grinning so much as I was over-nodding. “Oh, of course.”

Now he wasn’t grinning. “How would you like to do something for me?”

I should mention here I’m usually up for anything when Honey’s eyes sparkle, so I asked, “Here?”

“No.” He took my hand and pulled me along with him. “In your office.”

And there I am thinking, Right on, it’s been awhile since we’ve *cough, cough* polished the desk, when he walks me to the desk chair and indicates for me to sit in it.

*cups hand over mouth and summons the magic snow globe*

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“You want me to sit here? Why?”

He leaned down bracing both hands on either side of me on the chair, and asked, “How else are you going to type and email the invoice I need sent to a client ASAP.”

@#@!$#$!!!!

There was more to that whinny conversation, but I like to keep the non-talking-about-sex-part of my posts clean. :D Besides, I have to get to the point of telling you about the notes. It would seem Honey doesn’t like visual competition around the house. Did I mention that I buy him a calendar every year for his office? A day planner that features sexy girls for him to look at whenever he wants? I do. Funny story about that here, but I digress. I left the note card on the table with the other swag overnight and the next morning when I walked by I noticed the card was turned around. Not that I don’t like looking at my own face, but you know, being treated to ripped male abs puts a little “pep” in my morning step, you know what I’m saying? So I turned the card back around. I was actually going to pick up all the swag stuff and pack it into my swag drawer, but now I had something to prove. I waited until Honey got home that day and I asked if he turned my note card around. He denied it. Worst part about that? I actually believed the sneaky bastard.

*Shakes head*

Unfortunately, I forgot to collect up my stuff that night, so it wasn’t until I walked by the table the next morning and saw the card turned back around that I knew the truth. He was turning my guy so I couldn’t see him. For the next three days we had the ghost war going on. I’d turn the perfect physique so I could see it when I walked by the table, and he’d turn it so I couldn’t. Neither one of us said anything about doing this. He never caught me and I never caught him until…

I turned my guy around this morning and Honey had done something really, really, bad. He used a black marker and drew my guy’s nipples to look like Groucho Marks eyes complete with the thick eyebrows!!! Bad enough, right? But then he went the extra mile – he gets brownie points for this one- he used one of the hero’s ab ripples (the one right over his belly-button) to fashion a mustache and his belly-button he made into a tiny mouth that looked like one of those caroler angels with lips in a perfect ‘0’.

 

*Holds up right hand*

I swear, right now I’m trying so hard not to get that black marker out of the kitchen drawer and go mess up his dirty girl calendar. Please talk me out of it.

*insert massive stewing here until the epiphany hits*

Oh, wait! I know what I can do. Messing up his current dirty girl would be so pedestrian, wouldn’t it? He’d be totally expecting me to do something like that. You’re right. I need to play this smarter. I’ll graffiti his October model. That’s my birthday month. What a great gift to myself in 2015 – seeing Honey’s face when he unveils his newest babe only to find out she’s missing a few teeth, sporting a couple of Frankenstein scars, and has hairy arm pits that look like she’s packing a head of broccoli under them.

*cries laughing*

Then?

*Sobers up*

Aw, the poor guy. He SO looks forward to the first day of every month to see what beauty awaits him when he flips the page…maybe I shouldn’t touch his calendar.

*Looks right at you and screams*

Joking! I am so doing it!!!

Riley – who couldn’t have come up with this brilliant plan without talking her way through it, so thanks for listening!

 


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Who wants…? Plus (scene 3) of Larz and Sherm!!!

January 15, 2015

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More loot to be added to the giveaway? Me! Me! So here’s the deal. The image of the above teaser for my next release PROVOKED,  will arrive on the giveaway winner’s 25.00 Amazon e-gift card that will be emailed to them separately from the items below! See? These items:

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So to sum this up. So far, there’s the 25.00 e-gift card, two print and signed books, one mystery box with something in it -hence the mystery, one large “The Boys” magnet, one small Rene magnet, one heavy duty Aries clip/magnet and one of David’s famous Post-It-Notes pads! All you have to do is leave a comment or email me a suggestion for me to put toward the next scene, and your name will be added to the hat each time. Big thanks to all you guys who have been playing. Hardest word to incorporate this time came from Liz. She sent in neurologist. Lol! That was a goodie. It’s fun, no? Oh, and the drawing is at the end of the month! By then we should have all our scenes to this little anti-typical romance story done. Yay!

Now onto the story of Larz and his Goldirella! ;)

 

dreamstime_xl_28621572 Larz

 

 

If you need to catch up click here, here and then here.

Here is where we left off in the last scene with the security guard talking:

“I don’t care who the hell he is. You and him are coming to my office.”

Larz didn’t say anything while he let the guy help him up. He would have gone with the security guard quiet as a lamb sleeping in a haystack if the goddess hadn’t chosen that moment to shatter the peace by announcing to the growing crowd…

“I’m pregnant.”

The security guard let go of Larz’s arm and stumbled forward, demanding, “Excuse me?”

“I most certainly will not, you delusional twit!” The goddess roared, shooting such an astounding glare at the grocery policeman that every romantic bone in Larz’s body trembled in delectable delight. Especially when she added, “My squat little prince. My bewitching little bedbug. My hunky, halitosis-suffering hero only sought to please his highly hormonal and oftentimes moody child bearer. Surely you know why I needed the perfect avocado in my condition?”

The security man looked to the store manager, then at Larz, before he turned to the towering goddess of righteousness. “Um, no. Haven’t a clue.”

Larz nearly had to bite on his knuckle to hold off the sizzling lust steaming through him. His love’s front teeth hung rather askew over her bottom lip before she systematically worked to un-chewed it, and sniffed, “Folate.”

Nothing but silence followed until the insolent guard scratched his head with a pen. “Folic acid?”

It is to laugh. Larz waited and sure enough.

The goddess of grandeur swept the crowd with her beady rat-like eyes before returning to stare at the guard. “My mistake. I forgot who I was talking to. A verbally challenged individual. It’s pronounced foe late.” Larz closed his eyes and basked in the spittle that sprayed out of her mouth, bathing him in its sweet and sour odor. “Folate is in the vitamin B family and you know what they say? An avocado a day keeps the neurologist away.”

“Hm.” The security guard scanned the crowd, and then turned back. “That still doesn’t explain why you’re holding the fruit outside of the store and it wasn’t paid for.”

Larz held his breath, hanging on a bubble of swelling anticipation to see how cleverly his perfect love got out of this latest snare. In a flash his bubble popped, and with it went all his expectations, as his Goldirella drawled, “Oh, about that? You better ask him.”

So, this was what the underside of a bus looked like? Larz blinked, and when there was only one plausible excuse that came to mind, he blurted it out. “I must confess….”

(end)

Haha! So what’s Larz’s excuse? What is he going to confess? Any ideas? Any words or phrases you’d like to see included in the next scene? Let me know. As you can see I put in bold all your emailed or posted suggestions. I think I’ve used all of them. :)

Thanks for stopping by!

Riley


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The Unloved Wanderer (scene two: Larz. )

January 3, 2015

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Trust me. The picture will make sense in a minute, so stick with me. :D

Heh. Before we get to Mr. Handsome with a capital ‘H’, let me share a little convo I had with Honey last night that had me LMAO! This is kind of a follow-up to the post on the jagged scar Honey’s working on after banging his skull when he was trying to fix the water leak. *shakes head* Here’s the setup. I’m in the kitchen – doing what else? Cooking when Honey comes in. Did I mention his mood always gets lighter *looks right at you* if you know what I mean, when the food room fills with delicious aromas.

He comes around the counter and bangs his hip on the corner, swearing, “#@&! that’s going to leave a bruise.”

Me, without turning away from the stove. “Can I help you with something?”

He grabs me from behind and growls in my ear, “How about you put the sauce on the back burner and we take a siesta before dinner?”

Me thinking, ‘Oh sure. I smell like the garlic I chopped to put into the tomato sauce. Absolutely, this is a great time for the smexxy.’ Out loud I joke, “No thanks. I told you this morning, unlike most ‘chicks’ who dig scars – I’m still trying to get used to it.”

“That?” He curls down and nips my ear. “Don’t worry about that. With what I have in mind you won’t be in a position to see it.”

My eyes narrow as I stir the spaghetti. “Oh really?”

“Yeah, but I can’t promise the same for the bruise I just made, so you’ll just have to suck it up along with…”

I’d go on, but it was bad. Really, really, bad. Worse? I burned my sauce because I forgot to put it on the back burner. Oh, and you know that trick about putting a slice of white bread on top of burnt rice to take the charred flavor out of it? *snap* It doesn’t work for tomato sauce. Trust me. The moral of this little Honey story? Keep him out of the kitchen when cooking is going on, or be prepared by having a local pizza place on speed dial. This reminded me of the pot roast story. >.< That was doozy too.

If you need to catch up on what we’re doing click here or here.

Anyways, here’s Larz’s scene. I can’t wait to hear your ideas on where to go from here. Heh! As a reminder I put in bold the words I incorporated that some of you sent to me. As you can see there were a lot of them – which was challenging. :) For the next scene I’m going to choose five to use. You can post your suggestions/words in comments – or as usual, if you prefer to email them to me you can do that too. Alrighty. Without further adieu, here’s Mr. Handsome.

 

The Unloved Wanderer

Larz’s scene

Larz

Today was no different than any other…or so Larz thought. Here he was, doing what he always did when he got to the store. He kept his head down and hunted for the products he required while looking for his Goldirella. Ever since he was a adolecent he’d been searching for her. His woman. A cross between Golidlocks and Cinderella. His ideal mate not only needed to have the right size shoe, she couldn’t be asymmetrical, or too small. She had to be his idea of perfection. Truthfully, he’d just about given up all hope of every finding her, when he snagged the avocado he wanted, and looked down.

A size fourteen wide. Open toed and not a scuff on them. The shoes that is, because the toes were, well…wizened and turned up even.

His heart rate gained speed.

The gnarled digits were stacked against one another at random left and right angles. Her corns had corns, and her bunions had bunions. Beautiful. What a challenge it would be to cobble her hobblers. He wasn’t going to get his hopes up though. He’d need to see the whole package before he swooned.

Licking the drool from his lips, he slowly lifted his gaze from her toes to her ankles. His pulse pounding in his ears when he spied the wilted stocking circling her leg like a flaccid condom around a lamppost. No discernable ankle bones, how intriguing.

His gaze traveled higher, while he devoured the sight of her unshaven legs and deeply dimpled knees. The kneecap puckers complimented the mottled and dented surface of the skin on her thighs not hidden by her gabardine skirt.

Rawr!

Larz was staking claim even before he got to her hips that curved out in luscious teardrop-shaped handles a man could take hold of and drive until his heart’s content.

Double rawr!

Then to his utter delight, triple rawr, once he searched higher. Her breasts ran into her stomach, or her stomach ran into her breasts, either way it was a turn-on. He couldn’t stop himself. He tilted his head all the way back to see the color of her hair, and that’s when he sucked in a breath. She was giant. Hulking. A massive testament to the existence of an Amazonian race. A brute, a beast, the most spectacular female warrior he’d ever seen. When she regarded him his knees knocked together and he nearly dropped to them to pay homage to her loveliness.

Her eyes were black and beady. Narrowed to slits with just the right amount of squint to claw into him. She was a goddess. The Rodent Queen of Disdain. A pillar of fiendish fickleness. He had absolutely no idea what he’d done to earn her contempt, but far from being upset by it, he relished her scorn. It gave him a chance to hear her congested sniff, before she turned that hawk-like nose toward the ceiling and looked down upon him with a regal rat-like glare. His every thought focused in on her front teeth. Would they also be louse inspired? Bucked and sharp? Paired close together?

He shivered at the thought. God, to be gnawed on by such a pretty pet of powerful proportions! The visual nearly undid him. Images of her using those teeth on him while he ran his hands through her grease-laden hair, filled him with an excruciating lust, so profound and primal he almost ripped off his coat, sweater, overalls, shirt, undershirt and man-bra to ravish her amongst the Kumquats. That vat of fruit may have been farther away from them than the avocados were, but the colorful orange skin of the ’quats would be more of a contrast against her green-tinged complexion. Maybe the wicket full of bananas would be a better bed with which to defile his Amazon queen.

When he turned to gauge the distance to the prospective love nest she pushed past him. The wind of her departure hit him at the same time as the echoing thuds of her heavy footfalls departing – shook the fruits. Where was she going? He couldn’t let her leave. He’d just found his Goldirella!

“Miss? Miss, wait. Please.”

He rushed after her undeterred that the faster he followed her, the speeder she became. Up one aisle, and down the next. She sailed through each lane like an Ironside cutting through placid ocean waves. Quick enough to stay abreast of him to be sure.

“Miss? Can I have a word with you?”

There was no break in her stride. It was as if she were a speed walker hopped up on a case of RedBull.

He took in deep gulping breaths to keep up with her. This was the downside to being grossly underweight. He had no need to exercise, but for her he would. One look at those sagging handlebar hips jiggling as she stomped, and he decided he’d eat raw oysters by the handful and pump iron for hours at end. When the bottom half of her turned to the right and the rest of her was stuck angled off to the left in a crooked slouch he knew one thing. He’d do whatever he had to do to pleasure her. A body like that with feet that offered a challenge? Hell yeah. The man in him was ready to win, but the cobbler within wanted to sin.

“Waxing poetic? It must be love,” he whispered. In a louder voice he called to her, “Please don’t go. I know you wanted an avocado. I have one here. You can have it. Let me help you finish shopping. I shall be your humble servant and de-shelve all your desired items for you.”

She hurried through the potato chip aisle and navigated the beer section with ease, before she rushed out of the automated doors toward the parking lot. He couldn’t let her go. He’d follow her home if necessary.

When he got to the glass doors he stumbled through them, trying to keep up the pace. There was shouting behind him, but he didn’t care. He remained strictly focused on landing his one true love. He almost made it too, until he reached the curb and lost his footing altogether, crying out, “Oh, no! The avocado!”

Thankfully she must have heard him. She swung around just in time to pluck the spinning fruit right out of mid-air. The last thing he saw before he face-planted on the concrete was her man-hand dwarfing the green as if the food item was no bigger than a Ping-Pong ball.

Damn. Such powerful proportions…

After the initial thwack of cheek meeting asphalt, Larz closed his eyes and was ready to sink into another fantasy starring his Amazonian Princess of Perfection when muffled voices reached him. He fought to remain conscious, knowing he had to get up to follow his dream lover. Maybe if he focused in on the voices. Yes the voices.

Security! Not so fast there, lady. Hand over the fruit.”

“Did you get them, Bob?”

Them? Larz heard a second voice and was confused.

“Yeah, Attila here seems to be tongue tied, but I imagine the little guy is going to have plenty to say once he comes to. He’s the talker. He couldn’t shut up the whole way through their stealing spree.”

Spree? Larz forced his eyes opened and then groaned when the noontime sun blinded him.

“Gee, I’ve only been the store manager for two days. What do we usually do in a case like this? Should I call the police?”

“No. I’ll bring them to the back office and hear what they have to say. They better not try and pull the old, ‘we didn’t do anything’ routine. I can’t tell you how sick I am of that.” He pushed Larz with the toe of his uninspiring shoe. “But I’m a reasonable guy. If their story is entertaining enough, banning them from the store for life will work for me. Are you good with that?”

Larz heard the woman he’d already determined to be the new store manager let out a relieved breath, before she said, “Oh yeah. I’d hate to see two people—”

Perps.” The security guy interrupted.

“Get in big trouble over a measly avocado.”

“Measly? The way Attila is hugging the fucking thing you’d think it was a diamond.”

Every ache, pain, and discomfort instantly disappeared when those words registered. The goddess was hugging his fruit? Larz shifted and with great effort looked up. Their eyes locked and an emotion he’d never felt before began to bloom inside him. Was it—?

“Officer, please stop grandstanding with your incorrect assumptions and help my dear husband up. Immediately.”

Lust. Raw and raging lust. It had to be. A woman who could think that quickly on her gargantuan feet was someone Larz wanted to be manhandled by.

“I don’t care who the hell he is. You and him are coming to my office.”

Larz didn’t say anything while he let the guy help him up. He would have gone with the security guard quiet as a lamb sleeping in a haystack if the goddess hadn’t chosen that moment to shatter the peace by announcing to the growing crowd…

(End of scene one)

So, what happens next? I need five words and a direction to go in for her announcement. Any ideas? Honey had a good one. I’ll share it first of the week. I cried laughing. That man. *shakes head*

Here’s the giveaway reminder items with more added. We have this:

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And this:

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And now these. A Rene magnet and a David Post It Note pad. Remember his notes? Haha!

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Thanks for stopping by. If you have any words you’d like to see written in – any crazy ideas to make Sherm and Larz’s love story spectacularly unique please share them! Remember, every time you comment or make suggestions your name gets added to the hat for the giveaway when this epic love story is finished.

Riley


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The Unloved Wanderer

January 1, 2015

dreamstime_xl_28621572

Meet Shermatta!

Okay, here’s the first part of the scene. I’ll be posting the second (Larz’s part) over the weekend. For those of you who missed the setup click here to read about it. I’ve posted info at the bottom about what’s going to be added to our giveaway items, so be sure to check that out. Now? Onto the story. I’ll put into bold all the words you guys sent in. Between this first half of the scene and the next I managed to write in all the word suggestions and had fun with the story ideas you guys left in comments. Thanks so much for those. With that in mind, after I post Larz’s scene over the weekend I’ll need more help with this little story so keep the wheels turning as you read. ;)

The Unloved Wanderer

Scene one: Shermatta

There was nothing auspicious about the occasion. It was a necessary evil for Shermatta — Sherm to her one friend in the world—a mere trip to the grocery store for sustenance. The only important item on her list was her lone stealthy snack, an avocado. She’d given up everything else that could harm her bestie, Esmeralda, but she couldn’t squelch her cravings for the leathery-green fruit no matter how she tried. Therefore the single decadent delight had to be perfect, and there was only one way to tell. The prospective consumer needed to examine the dry little button on the stem end for color. Green meant go-ahead buy and enjoy. Brown meant bag it and tag it for garbage.

She’d been at the stand in her local market for ten full minutes, wading through the copious pile of unripe fruit to find the one. Surely there had to be a jewel among the rocks. Not that the uniformed shoppers who breezed by and grabbed those she’d already cast off as no good, cared. They may as well have tossed their hard-earned dollars in the bin, but that was none of her concern. She just wished they’d adopt a similar attitude and quit making her their business.

She knew the interlopers, otherwise identified as the smelly, perfume-wearing women who stalked through the produce aisle with their second-skin-workout gear on and sporting perfectly affected make-up, covertly examined her. She wasn’t fooled by them while they took their sweet time palming the tomatoes for their salads. If they’d spent half as much time picking their avocados as they did studying her, they’d have found the one in the pile, she was sure. She was also sure the same gym-dwellers, in fear of gaining an ounce, used the spritzer dressing product that “misted” one’s lettuce leaves instead of the more fattening pour bottle kind.

She snorted.

To her way of thinking, misting salad fixings was akin to making warm caramel custard without any sugar. It would look appetizing enough when it was put in front of you, but the taste? Dreadful. Salad was meant to be dressed not sprinkled. Unless those sprinkles were bacon bits.

Sherm loved bacon bits.

She curled down and hunkered over the last section to pick through, determined to ignore the enthralled-with-her patrons, that stared. Plucking an avocado to examine, she found it too hard. The next one was too soft. The next had the dreaded brown button. The next was split.

She grunted and shifted closer. There had to be one here, but when the next four turned out to be duds she growled and continued more aggressively to find the jewel. Pitted green fruit toppled and tumbled as she searched.

“Holy crap! Is that a guy?”

She heard the rude little bugger and pegged him for a tween. Gutsy, but blissfully ignorant.

“How about eggplant for dinner honey?”

Clearly the mother was trying to distract her little treasure. Distract and overlook, that’s what was wrong with today’s youth. A mother would rather explore her child’s feelings than give them something to feel, like the flat of a palm against a kid’s buttock. God forbid a parent should use corporal punishment to correct bad behavior. Oh no, better to—

Sherm lost her train of thought the second a milky-white arm shot in front of her. The skin was nude except for one long coiled black hair that spiraled out of the center of a flat brown mole. The spot held her transfixed. It was an impressive growth to be sure, but then when the limb disappeared from her view, the combined aromas of camphor and mothballs lingered.

She closed her eyes to savor the memories these scents conjured. Springtime. That’s what she recalled. Nail fungus always visited her at that time of year and there was no better cure for it than camphor.

She breathed in once more and another memory hit her.

Wintertime. Ah, the closed in and locked up feeling of suffocating in dry artificial heat for a full season washed over her. Thoughts of tossing those scented orbs with flagrant abandon in her closet to keep the moths at bay, flourished. There was nothing like the aroma. A veritable stew of old people scented air that reminded her of her Gammy. Her poor departed Gammy who had been the one to introduce Sherm to the simple beauty of the avocado in the first place.

But  her quest to find the perfect fruit would have to wait for now, because she needed more of the heady elixir of home. Of Gammy. Of…

She scrutinized the tiny man with the ghost-white skin and inwardly sighed. She knew what she needed more of—him!

Larz

Meet Larz!

As I’ve said I’ll post Larz’s half of scene one on Saturday. Then it’s onto the next one. Heheheh…

The giveaway

We already have two signed books and the mystery box from last week…

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This is what I’m adding to the above stuff:

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It’s a large Aries magnetic clip and a flat 4X6 fridge magnet of “The boys”. When I post Larz’s scene I’ll be adding an item with David on it.

Thanks for stopping by!

Riley


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Happy New Year!!!

December 31, 2014

domestic dispute

Before I post Sherm and Larz’s story scene, I want to share a little bit of New Year cheer with you. Honey and I got a notice from the water department yesterday morning that our meter was moving too fast so we should check for leaks. Yay! I could detail to you the whole long and very depressing story in narration, but dialogue is so much more fun. So let me share bits of conversations with you so you get an overall feel for the dilemmas that faced us. First with the leak and then with…well, you’ll see.

This is Honey after he reads the doorknob hanger notice from the city. “That’s it? No, you’re losing X amount of gallons per hour or anything? Without knowing the volume it would be damn near impossible to determine the source of the leak.”

I must have looked like I cared about what he was saying because he explained.

“If the needle is moving a little that could be a leaking toilet gasket or an outdoor spigot needs a washer or something. Now, if it’s moving fast it’s a break in the line outside or in the slab.” He turned the yellow card over again. “The guy didn’t say anything about amounts?”

“Nope.”

“A**holes! Let me call them, but before I do I’m going to test something. I’ll be shutting off the water for a few minutes.”

He heads outside and comes back in five minutes later. He’s scowling. “The break is between the meter and the house. Since it’s on our property it’s our responsibility so I’ll be out front digging.”

“You know where the leak is?”

“I think so.”

Five minutes later I’m in working in my office and Honey calls, “Hey, can you come and look at this for me?”

I throw down my pen because this always happens when he does stuff around our house. I always get called in. But then I come around the corner and see him leaning into the laundry room from the garage, and I stop dead.

“Do you think it needs stiches? #$#@!!! light! I banged into it when I stood. I have to fix it by the way, but it needed to be fixed before I really broke it so no loss there.”

Yeah, there was no loss anywhere, but from the blood pouring out of his forehead. Seriously, if I had hit myself that hard I’d be crying and rocking in a corner. He had a lump the size of a golf ball and the split was an inch and half long.

“Can you snap it up? I got to get this done, if I’m going to get back to the jobsite. Stiches? Or can I tape it together with some duct tape?”

Did I mention that duct tape is his go-to medical supply when he slices himself? He tapes up fingers, biceps and even his ribs. Ribs. He did that once only the second I found out about it I took him to the hospital to get X-rayed. Yeah, he cracked two of them when he fell off a ladder so he needed them wrapped with something other than duct tape. *shakes head* The doctors thought it was ingenious, by the way, but back to the gushing blood and open wound on his forehead. I didn’t let him tape it – I taped it. Not with duct tape, but with proper butterfly wing strips after I disinfected area. Which was all good until he discovered that the leak he’d found (a very, very, small one) wasn’t the leak that was causing the problem. It was time to call in the leak experts – only they couldn’t come until today so we called a semi-expert. Our sprinkler guy who took one look at the meter and said, “OMFG!!!! You’re losing about a gallon a minute.”

How could this be though? Our lawn, driveway, and house wasn’t floating away. Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you it was raining the proverbial felines and canines yesterday too, so yippee ki ya you know what! In the end we went old school and turned off the water last night at the source to wait for the experts. Come morning, Honey was chomping at the bit to find the problem and within five minutes after a good night’s sleep he found it. All fixed. So there we were sitting having our coffee later than usual this morning when I said to him, “I can’t believe you don’t care about getting cut in the face.” I was sitting there imagining what it would have been like if that had been my forehead, you know?

He shrugs. “It’s not so bad. It will give me character.”

Yeah, like he needed more of that. “It’s going to leave a scar.”

“So what. Chicks dig scars.”

I almost choked on my coffee, but then he proceeds to tell me about this one time when he got hit in the eye with a toboggan. It sliced his cheek open and gave him a wicked black eye. According to him, all the girls at school were fawning all over him. Especially after he told them he’d been in a fight the night before and that’s how he got the shiner.

*Insert me steaming here* Why? Because I was one of those girls he fed that load of hogwash to. Not at school because we didn’t go to school together, but after school when we were together. Hm. *Drums fingers on table and thinks back* Why didn’t he ever mention all those fawning girls to me…me who was his girlfriend at the time?

Meh, that was so many years ago that I decided to leave it be. Yeah, right after I told him the one reason I fell in love with him in the first place was because of that fight when I thought he was a bad ass, kicking ass like that. Now that I knew he made it up and it was a stupid toboggan that gave him a black eye? Well, that changed everything didn’t it?

*Looks right at you* It certainly changed his attitude. Heh. He’s been sweating bullets ever since. Me? Not so much. I think I’ll wait until New Year’s to tell him I was only joking…Poor guy. But can you imagine the nerve? Lol!

Okay, have fun tonight. Tomorrow I’m going to post the story scene and the added item for the giveaway.

I hope all you guys have a happy and safe New Year’s!!!! See ya in 2015!!!! :D

Riley


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