It's one of those cold, grey November days, the kind of day where I'd like to curl up in front of a proper fireplace with a good book, nice music and a box of expensive Belgian chocolates. Instead, I'm writing, there's no fireplace in this house and I'm buggered if I'm spending a fortune on the aforementioned chocolate.
Monday, November 28, 2011
Monday's Hottie
It's one of those cold, grey November days, the kind of day where I'd like to curl up in front of a proper fireplace with a good book, nice music and a box of expensive Belgian chocolates. Instead, I'm writing, there's no fireplace in this house and I'm buggered if I'm spending a fortune on the aforementioned chocolate.
Saturday, November 26, 2011
Post-Thanksgiving Snark
“How about some music?” He turned the television off.
“Music would be much better. I don’t get much of a chance to just sit and listen to music. Plus, I have no idea what you like. I’m curious because I couldn’t find your CDs when I had a nose around last night.”
“That’s because I have most things on my I-pod.” He rose and opened a cabinet beneath the bookshelves. “You weren’t nosey enough.” He set the I-pod speakers on a shelf and switched it on. “It’s just a mix of things.”
A blast of funk shook the room. Iain swore and dived for the volume switch. “Ooops. Sorry about that.”
“Return of the Mack? Are you taking the piss?”
He sank down beside me. “I told you, it’s a mix. I happen to like this.”
“I bet you put on your parachute trousers and dance around the room when no one’s looking.”
“I might.”
“Christ. I think I may have to leave.”
Iain edged closer and wrapped his arm through mine. “You wouldn’t dare.”
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Some Victorian Snark
Uncle Jacob peered through the sitting room window. “So that’s the artist then?”
I glanced past him at the figure perched on a stool at the far end of the paddock. Wyndham held a sketchbook and stared at the house. “Yes, that’s him.”
“Is he any good?”
“Uncle, you hired him.”
He chuckled. “Heh, so I did.”
The Captain, shook his head. “You’re getting absent-minded in your old age, Jacob.”
“You’re a fine one to talk.” Jacob returned to his seat. “You poured salt into your tea this morning.”
Saturday, November 12, 2011
November Snark
Good week for me. There'll be more on that soon. Let's just say I'm a happy writer bunny and leave it at that for now. :D
The silence was broken by the thunk of a wheelbarrow in the yard.
“What was that?” Iain kissed the corner of my mouth.
“Valeria. She’s come to see to her horse.”
“The Russian girl? I want to see.” He retrieved his jeans and fastened his shirt.
“Don’t let her see you, for fuck’s sake. She may want coffee or something.” I found my jeans and straightened my jumper.
Iain lifted the blind and peered beneath it. “I bet that blonde isn’t natural. She should’ve done her roots for Christmas.”
Saturday, November 5, 2011
Saturday already?
I put my arm around Ian and he settled against me, resting his head on my shoulder. I loved the warmth of him, the scent of him, the softness of his hair beneath my cheek. “I’m sure I’ll love the pheasant. It’s fine with me as long as I haven’t got to pluck it.”
“I skinned it and I picked out the shot, so you don’t have to worry about breaking your teeth.”
“Thank Christ for that. I like a chef takes the trouble to deal with the small things, like peoples’ teeth.”
“I aim to please.”