So, there’s a chapter in Rampant in which Cory is at school on a beautiful spring day, and she’s miserable…
She has allergies, she’s at odds with Bracken, and she’s on her period.
Yeah, that.
On the one hand, thank fuck, because I was becoming an emo crap sack, and I mean that in the most frustrated possible way. “Aw, isn’t the dog cute? Excuse me while I SOB because she is too stupid to live and she’s not long for this world!” (People say they want to know what it’s like inside my head. No they don’t. They really don’t.) And my usual MO is to start JUST as the plane is leaving the ground on the way to some place I need to be as bright and charming as possible. (See the “emo crap sack” comment, because I think you’ll note the contradiction there.) I literally OWE people (and they are NOT letting me off the hook for this) because I jumpstarted like four women at one conference. There’s no making up for that, and I’m just as glad I don’t have to this time round. LIke I said, thank fuck.
On the other hand? I would plough over my own offspring for a chocolate bar. I got convulsions of mouth watering want just writing that.
The only good news is, its an excuse to stay in from aqua tomorrow and write, and this is good news because I’m so close to being done with this book I can taste it. And the really good news is that, while I get to relive that scene from Rampant right now, I never have to relive the whole pregnancy thing from Quickening ever again.
This makes me so happy right now I could–quite literally– cry.
Or rip your face off… I’m saying. You know. Beware and shit. Adorable Amy is down for the count, it’s time to rip some heads, eat some chocolate and sleep like a mob boss– with a knife under my pillow and no hesitations about using it.
Oh! I bought postcards and some magnets for Immortal when I’m in RT.
That cover is just… Mmm…
Happiest swag buy EVER!
Back in the pre-surgical croning days, my children, (bless their precious little imp spawn selves!) tagged me with the name "Veloci-choco-raptor" after the Velociraptors from Jurassic Park….If they'd gotten into my chocolate stash for the monthly moon madness, they knew that there was Hell to pay. In the bad ol' "Rhae's still drinking like a fish" days, there was Kahlua…LOTS of Kahlua…in my coffee, mixed with milk, ice cream, IV….Yeah. The name fits. (and even without the anatomical accoutrements d'internal, I am still solidly addicted. No excuses.) Hugs, honey. Thou art Goddess…and the state of having "your own personal summer" or "power surges" isn't exactly pleasant, but it scares the Hell outta the guys – which if they didn't worship you before, they certainly will after!