While A is away, the blog still gets to play. Please welcome Marie Ann Bailey, from 1WriteWay.
Brittany woke to the sharp odor of damp soil and something else, something familiar, something sweet. She tried to stretch out her legs. Her feet touched a solid barrier before her legs were fully straight. She was lying on her right side, in a fetal position. She tried to lift up but, again, she met with a barrier. She opened her eyes wide but it was dark all around her. Her throat tightened and she felt a rising hot bubble of panic coming up from her stomach. She was in a box of some kind. Soil beneath her, wood on the sides and above her. She stretched out her hands and felt around the small, close space. The smell of the soil and the “something else” was adding to her panic. She clenched her jaw to try and keep the acrid fluid down in her stomach. She wanted to cry out, but was stilled by the thought that he might be there. He might be outside the box, waiting for her to cry out, waiting for her to give him another reason to beat her.
D: Oh, lovely. A goes off with barely a goodbye and now I’m stuck with … well, all these “friends” of hers, mucking around her blog, smelling it up with things familiar and sweet. I need a drink, a pint of mead … where did she put the mead?!
D: What? Who are you? What are you? A number, the number “1”? Good lord, A has some strange friends. I never …
1: Ahem. Mind if I speak?
D: Oh, sorry, I’m just a little rattled without A around.
1: Uh huh, your mouth runneth over.
D: Oh, a cheeky little lass, are you?
1: Hmmm, cheeky, yes; little, no; lass, not anymore.
D: Do you always speak in semi-colons?
1: … ; ?
D (silently weeping): …
1: Oh, D, please don’t cry. I can’t stand to see grown … Druids … cry. A will be back before you know it. And I’m really harmless. I write about bad things but I’m not a bad person.
D (sniff): Can I borrow a handkerchief?
1: Ah, yes, but just keep it.
D: Thank you (sniff). I feel better now. So, what’s this little ditty you have up here?
1: It’s the beginning of my first novel in a series that I’m tentatively calling The Widow’s Club.
D (yawn): How fascinating.
1: It has three widows in it. Young, lovely widows.
D: Oh! Lovely young wenches … well, you should have said so at the outset. Do tell me more!
1: You may be old, but you’re not dead, I guess …
1: Never mind. These three widows are cousins who were all born on the same day in the same year: Mary, Melissa, and Maggie. They were very close growing up, but they each married and started going their separate ways. Then each of their husbands die, in very different circumstances, but in close temporal proximity. This first novel begins with all three of the cousins living together, trying to survive on the meager finances left to them. Mary is the extrovert and most headstrong of the three, and it’s her idea that they form a private investigation firm. Their first case will involve Brittany. What do you think?
D: zzz…What? Oh, sorry, I was just resting my eyes. Continue, please.
1: I’m done.
D: That’s it? That’s all you woke … I mean, that’s all you want to tell me?
1: Well, like I said, that’s one novel. I wrote a second one for the April Camp NaNoWriMo, and I plan to write the third for July …
D: Correction. You are writing the third.
1: I stand corrected. I am in the process of writing the third.
D: Any place for a Druid in your series, perhaps as a love interest. I rather like the sound of Mary …
1: Ah, no, there’s no time traveling. All the action is contemporary.
D: I can do contemporary. I’m here, aren’t I?
1: Good point. Maybe I should consult with A about that …
D: Consult with A?! Whatever for? The silly woman doesn’t own me!
1: D, please calm down.
D: I mean, really, I’ve just about had it with …
1: D, please. This is my first time as a guest. Don’t blow it for me.
D: I think you’re blowing it just fine on your own …
D: Please stop using punctuation to express yourself. It’s so childish.
1: Sorry …. (not really)
D: I heard that. Really, 1, I don’t mean to be hard on you. Please accept my apologies and don’t tell A that I fell asleep while you …
1: AHA! You admit it!
1: Hmmm … I guess you could do contemporary. But Mary already has a love interest.
D: The harlot. Her husband is barely in the grave and she’s already taking up with another man!
1: No, no! She’s been widowed for a while and this new love interest is an old friend. Don’t get your pantaloons in a wad.
D: I don’t wear pantaloons!
1: Same to you. Well, I think I’m done here …
D: (in more ways than one)
1: I heard that! D, let’s part as friends. Really, isn’t it better to have some guests while A is away rather than just rattling your bones by your lonesome?
D: Well, when you put it that way …
1: And you are kind of cute for a Druid.
D: You’re too old for me. Just look at all that gray hair!
1: one … two … three … four …
D: What are you doing?
1: Counting to ten in the hope that I won’t still want to murder you when I’m done.
D: Oh, dear. Well, what I meant was, you have lovely silver hair and it’s been a true joy to have you here.
1: That’s better.
D: Please, come again soon.
1: I’m not holding my breath.
D: Don’t let the door hit you on the way out!
OK, so D and I didn’t exactly hit it off. In fairness to him, I just think he misses A, more than he would ever want to admit. And I can see how he might grow on A. There is something appealing about the old sod. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, so watch out, A! I suspect D will be beside himself when you return 😉
Marie Ann Bailey
I am a writer, living with three cats, more yarn than I can knit up in a lifetime, and a dear husband who doubles as my best friend. I started this blog a few years ago when I was toying with the idea of becoming a freelance editor. I wanted 1WriteWay.com to be a serious resource of all things related to writing and editing. But then life happened, I got distracted, and went offline for awhile. Now I’m back but with a different purpose for my blog. I just want to write. I’m old enough to be looking forward to retirement (as opposed to what my next career move should be), and the more writing I can do now, the better shape I’ll be in to make writing my primary focus when I’m no longer at the office 40 hours a week. I enjoy my current job and my coworkers and that actually has made it more difficult to be disciplined with my writing. I do derive intrinsic satisfaction from what I do at the daily grind, but the urge to write hasn’t left. In fact, the more I think about retirement, the more I want to write. . .
Read more about the wonderful Marie and her blog, 1WriteWay.