Ooh, ooh… gotta share. Cleaning House is a Speculative Fiction finalist for this year’s Bisexual Book Awards! I’m stoked! Here’s a LINK to the announcement. The awards are in June so wish me luck!
Welcome to #WIP Wednesday.
If I’m slow to share your comments, don’t fret. I’m currently residing in the land of medical… stuff. I’ll be back in a week or three so comment way. I’ll reply as soon as I’m able.
I’m picking up where I left off last week.
In case you’re playing catch up…
Here’s my #WIPpet math for 4/24/2019 I’m snagging the four for four paragraphs from… I’ll think of a title someday soon, I promise.
Note: The first line comes from last week’s WIPpet, and these are Nub’s thoughts since we’re in his POV.
I’m as tall as I’m ever going to be, and we both know it.
“You’ve proven yourself to me big or small, but I worry if you’ll ever find a girl of your own.” Conall pats my stomach. “We need to put some meat on you.”
“I’ll find me a short apple dumplin’ shop to snuggle with when I’m ready.” I push my hat back as soon as he turns around. “But I’m happy being a bachelor until then.”
“So am I.”
Then why are we dining at Widow Alcott’s? I bite my cheek to refrain from saying that aloud. Becoming a man. Conall always says that when he thinks I’m incapable of doing something because of my size, but I’ll show him. I’m no lout; I’m the best hand ever and being yoked to anyone is the last thing on my mind.
If secrets have value then Nub’s a rich man, but that’s just my opinion.