Posted By on August 1, 2010

It’s quiet here. The beloved and daughter are out. Kitty has settled in for some fatbelly shuteye. I’m writing in the family room under a thundery sky.

Thunder suits the mood in my story right now. A nice dramatic, thundery snowstorm, banging away over a man and woman who find themselves in a situation they never expected with attraction more imperative than they’ve ever known. They’re feeling their way, uncertain what’s right, driven by feelings they don’t trust.

I’m having fun.

Here, we’re under a heat advisory. I swam early this morning because it’s too hot to breathe outside. If you like saunas, our yard is the place to be. Hmmm. Saying that tempts me to risk a lightning strike and snap a pic of the handsome weed bed in my front yard. But maybe not. I’m not easily embarrassed, but I seem to have a limit. Boasting about my weed bed hits my shame tolerance!

So–instead, you get my cloud-dulled front hall.

Today, all the RWA attendees are making their way home. I’ve been so envious reading the posts. (Okay, so I seriously wanted to see Harry Potter, but I also wanted to see my RWA friends.) Next year’s conference is in New York.

Maybe I’ll get back to work so I can finish this proposal before then. Hope you’re having a peaceful Sunday with all your favorite things. I’m making do with a few–writing, thunder, and lightning. And my hero, Mr. Air Conditioning. A hero who fights the elements!

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