Sunday, December 11, 2011

Well, hi!

The Mr. asked me if I'd updated my blog about NaNo and projects (he's responsible like that) and I realized that I'd updated about Kerry, but not myself!
I'm sorry!

So what's happening around here?
Yeah, it's been kinda like that. Cactus and all!

I finished NaNo with just over 50K which was awesome. 

I really didn't think I'd get it done. But my writing buddies Amelia June and Dave helped me immensely, jazz hands and all, and I pulled it out just in the nick of time.
After that I went back to work on what I lovingly call "Hockey Boys" or my around 10K story that's eating at my brain about a new teacher at a hockey academy, Henry, and his nemesis, Garrett. I am nearly finished, thank the heavens!

 Here's a snippet:
“Don’t lay your bad choices on me. You and your players need some reminders in responsibilities and accountability for self. If you’d given a shit about their education like you should, this wouldn’t be a problem. Be honest with yourself, damn it. This is on YOU, not me!” I shoved him back, but he held me tightly against the board, the tray digging into my lower back. “Get. Off. Callaghan.”
Suddenly, his eyes weren’t cold and angry anymore. He was holding me against the board with most of his body and we were nearly nose to nose. I smelled the mint from his toothpaste with every labored breath.
“You irritate me so fucking much, Pelletier.” His words said one thing, but his body was telling me something very different. Without even realizing, I pushed forward slightly and my nose brushed his.
“It’s mutual.” And I meant it.
As his lips touched mine, the only thought in my overworked mind was that I couldn’t let it stop. His rough kiss was suddenly the most important thing. His lips became a crucial necessity. His taste was sweet and it made me crave more. When my tongue traced along his lower lip, the moan that slowly emanated from his chest caused my arousal to surge.
Of their own volition, my hands traveled from his chest down to his stomach, tracing the indentations and lines of his stomach through his shirt. When my fingertips reached his hips, he froze. I could actually feel his muscles tense under my hands.
My back hit the board again as he shoved off of me, straightened himself and ran a hand through his messy blond hair.
“Fuck! You’re so...” then he stopped mid-sentence quickly turning away from me then back again.
Sighing hard, he continued, “This did not happen.”

So, what do you think? Something I should finish? I'm waffling a bit, but I do want to finish it.
Would you be okay with being cross-checked, if you went into this penalty box? *raises both hands*

Not much else is going on at the moment in Bella-land. How are you doing? Got anything good on the dockets?

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